I love learning new things, especially writing skills. Today I need to explore how to put a press release together before the publication of my third novel, Walking Alone.
I open the fridge to pop the milk away and realise a limp bunch of carrots is looking at me reproachfully. I detest wasting food, so I rummage about for other tired-looking veggies and get a pan of soup on the stove.
Alexa is asked to play some classical music, my preferred soundtrack to writing, and I head off to my desk upstairs. The next hour flies by. I become completely engrossed in this new art and lose myself crafting paragraphs, honing the essential information, curbing my natural tendency as a novelist to be too wordy.
Onions, an aroma of cooking, with undertones of something resembling charcoal, alerts me to the pan. I can’t believe I have forgotten the soup after the effort of chopping up the ingredients.
A salvage is attempted. I discard the worst of it and blend the rest with clean, hot water. Will the remaining black bits masquerade as black pepper? I pour the soup into a container, then look helplessly at the bottom of the pan.
Walking Alone, the continuing story of David and Helen Richardson and their family is due for release in April 2020.