Kundela on Kindle is $0.99 from after Midnight Valentines Day until Friday 21/2/2014

About six weeks ago I tried to organise a Kindle promotion price for my novel KUNDELA as an e-book through Amazon's Kindle Books. Being new to publishing with their format I made a couple of mistakes and when I posted on Facebook and other platforms that the book was available for ninety nine cents, it didn't work that way.

To make up for misleading everyone I have manually adjusted the price to $US 0.99 as of midnight Australian Eastern Time 14/2/2014 and will leave this pricing in place for seven days.

Please advise your friends and fellow readers so they can take advantage of the pricing. Hard copies are priced at $32.95 including postage and are available by e-mailing; kundela@bigpond.com

I am sorry for any inconvenience caused and hope this initiative helps.

Terry

When Satan Took the Wheel.

This is the first rough draft of a set of verses that popped into my head while I was waiting for my wife at the supermarket. I wrote the lines in a journal before I lost them altogether. I'm told that other writers musicians and poets keep something handy to record their ideas and  until now I always maintained I'd remember it, not so. By writing these things down you are able to conjure up the inspiration of that moment, and begin where you left off.

I would like to challenge anyone whose interested to play around with it and make it better.
If you are inclined paste your version in the comments section below. As for the copyright aspect of it, I will surrender that for as far as I'm concerned this is out in the ether now and anyone can have access to it.

Papa was a trucker
and he drove a Bulldog Mack
Mumma rode the sleeper
They would overnight to Sydney
and tomorrow they'd be back

They carted fruit and veg and fridges
The load would never change
And late at night it happened
On the great Dividing Range

Five hundred horses snorting
The load was high and wide
they felt the door swing open
Satan joined them for the ride

Lightning flashed around them
And made the mountains white
Wipers swept swept away the rain
But Satan steered the rig that night

Mumma screamed out tractor
A huge shape without a light
Papa swung the wheel to miss it
But Satan's grip was tight.

Too late they clipped the tractor
and sent it or'e the side
The mack followed like a magnet
When Satan took his ride

On on her deathbed wheezing
Mumma prayed to stop the squeal
Of demons dancing gaily
When Satan took the wheel.

Stinking Dogs and School Socials

As I write different things, memories flood back and I keep notes of them in a file that I call "Letters to my Children". Someday it may form the basis for a memoirs. I found these notes from a Master Class I did with Kirsty Murray. They are a first draft only.

 

The door flew open we could read the fury on our mother’s face.

‘Get that stinking dog out of here.’

‘David let him in...’

She cut me off before I could finish. ‘He’s your dog and he’s rolled in something.’

‘Out.’ I yelled and pointed to the door she was still holding open oblivious to the swarm of blowflies that circled past her. That anger would wait.

Fido ,who had never done anything in a hurry looked back at me. He shared the same look as my mother. At the door he peered out and looked up at Mum as if to say, ‘Are you serious?’ Fido took his time, but before she could move her foot behind him and give his backside a nudge he shook. A long violent shake. Wet cow dung atomised, and bits and pieces of green and black goo speared from his black and white hide. A mist of stink landing on Mum, the door, the stove and the fridge. Everything within a metre copped it.

He might have gone to golf with mum that day, something he wasn’t welcome to do, but he always made sure he was home to greet David and I when we’d finished school. Fido was my dog and now more than ever I knew it. Mum would make sure of that.

She stormed out cursing all kinds of obscenities toward David me and the dog. She muttered about dress fittings and school socials and how she’d promised Mrs Gibb I’d go with Gwenda. That was fine, she and her brother Allen were mates. She insisted I would have to ask her to dance. Me dance, I have no rhythm or sense of timing and at thirteen I thought boys still got germs from girls. Well they did, didn’t they? Having to dance with any of the girls filled me with terror, there was no way I could do that, dancing was something different again.

But after the Fido incident, I was not in a position to refuse and at the end of it all of us had a good night.

I don't have Writer's Block, I'm Procrastinating

Since attending a writing workshop in August I have had trouble finding time to keep writing. Les Gillespie's Gold lies abandoned in a cobweb covered file on my desktop, and my Toby Farrier manuscript is craving for attention. I have written a few small short stories and spent a lot of time on research, but if I'm being honest with myself, all of that is procrastination.

I know that I pointed to the workshop as the trigger, but this is unfair. It was great to spend four days with intelligent and funny people all with the same ambition. Sure I was intimidated by their writing prowess and found myself in awe of their academic ability, but the real reason for my lack of word count was distraction. I was drawn away by other things. Oh and I had a simple excuse, I had writers block. What tripe, story ideas dance across my mind continually, I even jot down notes or dialogue that I can use. No, I was letting stuff get in the way.

Social media for me is the greatest trap of all when I am writing, it is too easy to click onto Facebook of follow a tweet. I can find plenty of time to promote and create awareness for my novel. I have developed complex plans for a dozen new projects, but again if I'm honest, this is just putting things off. Building and maintaining my author platform (which is what I am doing now) is the greatest consumer of my time and saps at my creativity. Oh and I can blame my self publishing and printing a substantial quantity of  my novel KUNDELA. This knowledge requires that I acknowledge the investment we have in unsold books, and therefore out of respect for the family finances I have a responsibility to introduce them to as many bookstores as possible. This too takes time.

I am from a sales and marketing background so I find calling on retailers familiar to me. However this field is new and all of the cold call fears and trepidation surface as I prepare to make a new contact.  More lost time as I build the courage to make a cold call. One thing I do know, is that I am able to present my product well enough for a bookstore manager to make a purchase, or at least take a few books on consignment. Thankfully all of these calls have resulted in more acceptances than knock-backs.

Another time investment for a writer are in-store promotions and author talks. These are fun events and everyone I know loves signing copies of their book. Talking to like minded people and listening to a reader enthuse about your work is great. We all want to get that affirmation and as often as we can and in my case, time to write gives way to this vanity. Again it is too easy to put off working on my manuscripts by saying that the existing book is more important.

Recognising these things that I use to justify not writing is easy to put aside, after all these are important things that must be done. Bull-dust to that, I am only making them important and as big as I make them, they really don't matter much. I just need to get some discipline and structure into my writing week.

To define my Writer's Block is easy.

Procrastination fuelled by fear.

The more I learn about writing the more I struggle to get it right before the words hit the screen, and then I ask myself, how would my author heroes frame the same passage? I waste hours on this. At the root of this procrastination is that I continually question my skill.

• Is the story strong enough?
• Are the characters believable?
• Have I planned enough?
• Did I spend too much time on planning?

I even know how and why I am procrastinating. Social media called, and I weakened to it's lure.

However there are some benefits. Analysing my problem has highlighted the traps, and if I can take one thing from this process, it is that everything I have learnt has challenged me to write in a purposeful fashion. Therefore the solution to my writer's block will be to make sure I build some structure in my writing day. I can do this by developing and working on the following points until they become a habit:

• Spend no more than 10-20 minutes a day reviewing the story plan and character profiles.
• Write for at least 3 hours before lunch every day without distraction, or a break.
• Only check my e-mails after 3.00 pm.
• Dedicate one full day a week to sales and promotion.
• Limit Facebook and other social media until both manuscripts are completed.
• Set the manuscripts aside for at least 6 months before beginning to edit.

I have taken the summer to re-read everything I've written and I must say I've become a bit impressed with myself. I know that sounds cocky, but after reading my first drafts I know the thing I have most to work on is self belief. I need to understand the strength of my writing and know anything out of place will be fixed during the edits. This affirmation is best summarised by the following points:

• Let the characters develop unrestricted and have them take me on their journey.
• Believe in the storyline, mostly the plot is strong and the subplots colourful.
• Get the words down, any problems can be edited it later.

So why should I doubt myself? I don't need to.

Sorry got to go now, I can hear a character calling.

It's funny what research turns up

We all agree that our planet seems to be suffering from dramatic climate events, none more real than the expanding deserts of Africa and into Asia.
Doing research for my novel Les Gillespie's Gold, I spoke to one of my daughters about one of the plot points and she sent the following link to me. It will mean revising that particular plot but what it has done is explain how we can save the great grass lands that we have lost over the years of ecology science.
In the eighties farmers in my home district of Orroroo began using minimum tillage farming as a means to increasing crop yield. This TED talk by Allan Savoy shows the science now being employed around the world to stop desertification. A lot of the techniques used duplicate what those marginal farmers from Perth to Adelaide were trying.
Take a look at the link, maybe it will cause us to rethink our views, change the way we manage stock numbers and even save a few endangered flora and fauna species in the process.

Link: http://www.ted.com/talks/allan_savory_how_to_green_the_world_s_deserts_and_reverse_climate_change.html?utm_source=email&source=email&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=ios-share

KUNDELA is now avaiable as an e-book

I thought I’d let you know that my novel KUNDELA has now been released on Amazon’s e-book list and the good news is that for the next few days it is available for just $0.99.

You will need to act quickly though as on the 7^th of January 2014 it reverts to the recommended retail price of $9.99. If you’d like to spoil yourself  with an entertaining holiday read, download it to your tablet, e-reader or desktop now.
I continue to be amazed by people who take time out of their day to let me know what they think of the story and this encouragement motivates me to finish the next book in the series.

Here is just one of the reviews I received last week.

 

Dear Terry,

I just finished your book Kundela, I actually started it last night and kept reading all day until it was finished - I just loved it.  Although having just returned from staying in Orroroo for the Carrieton rodeo and after travelling on the back roads via Hammond to Quorn, the images of that country were very fresh in my mind making the story very believable.

I can't believe a big publisher has not seen the potential in your work.

Cheers

Cathryn Harris

Montana and the Pirates

This is a story written by Montana at the age of eight. It is amazing how competitive siblings can be and she sat at the computer and typed this story with out too much assistance, insisting it was her story. Over time I will encourage her to write it again and either add more to it or correct the punctuation and rhythm of the piece.
I am pleased that today's children are encouraged to express themselves in writing more so than when I was a child..

 

 

Once upon a time in a country where pirates who keep the other people very poor and frightened except for a brave girl named Montana. She’d once lived in a beautiful home with her youngest sister India, her big sister Kyamah, and her Mum and Dad.  Montana loved her family dearly and she cursed the day the pirates arrived and smashed the peace of their lovely village. As she watched the last sail burn on her father’s ship and it slip below the waves Montana swore she’d she would see that pirates face in Hell.

She felt the soft touch of her mother's hand stroke her long brown hair. ‘It’s going to be okay Darling, we have had troubles before and come through okay.’

‘But I hate them so much, I swear to you on life. I will get revenge.’

‘Come come Montana, that’s just silly. You’re only eight years old.’

‘But every day I grow a little bigger and get stronger and I promise you and this island that one day I will see to it that Blackbeard’s day will come.’

She knew just how lucky she was. Along with her family, Granny and Papa were there too, they would look after things when her parents were away. From today however things would change she would become one they relied on, and she knew it would take time.

‘Mum look down there, just outside the bay.' Montana pointed to the ship with the red sails, it’s black hull bristling with cannon and Jolly Roger. 'They call her Queen Anne’s Revenge, and I’m going to take her for Dad.’

Well on the other hand the pirates were much much worse in fact they stole everything mostly the money. There Captain was Black Beard . These pirates were the meanest things on earth back in those days. Captain Black Beard and his crew would sack every place in the village and the people had to give the pirates something, or money. Mostly money so the village got very poor and sick especially Montana's family apart from her, but  the pirates, they got very rich.

One day Montana was tired of Black beard and his crew's pillaging because Montana's family was very very sick, they didn’t have any food. Later the pirates came for more but instead of money or gold, they were ambushed Montana got her sword and put the point at Black Beard's heart.

Black beard whipped out his sword out and slashed it at Montana’s sword Montana was a very good sword fighter so the pirate couldn’t kill Montana easily. The sword fight ended and Black Beard walked back to his ship with his crew but Montana wasn’t finished she followed him back to the ship. Black Beard saw that Montana had followed onto the ship and realised she wanted more. He said. 'If you want more you have to face your fears.'

          'I know.'She said

They started having another fight Black Beard was about to stab but instead hit the sword and said. 'I’m to quick for ya” and didn’t die. Just then Montana swung back and stabbed Black Beard in the heart Montana had won.

Montana got all the things that was the villages and shared it all. For Black Beard well he had to be tied to a rope and swim around the boat three times. Montana's family got much better and lived happily ever after with no more pirates.

                                    The end!