According to an article in USA Today , 21% of the nearly 3,000 people asked had read an ebook since December last year. This indicates a big change in the way people are buying and reading books, a change which looks set to continue snowballing.  And of course that's more good news for writers - not just American writers, either, because in case this fact has slipped you by somehow, people from all around the world can now buy ebooks from writers who live all around the world.  I still say paper books won't vanish altogether, but will become the preserve of big art and photography books - right up until the day when an ereader can also act as a projector, so its user(s) can see a big version of whatever's on the screen.  When you look at a painting, you want to be able to see it in sharp detail rather than squint at a fuzzy, pixilated miniature version. The demise of the familiar pulp paperback format is, however, inevitable.  I won't mourn its passing.  Last time

Don't look, it's a dream! What's this white stuff? How to get dry - puppy style! Emily with her late Uncle Mutley Ygraine, circa 2007. Tidying up old files on my computer, I came across these old photos of some of my pets.  Enjoy!   

Having read through Mark Coker's free ebook, The Secrets of Ebook Publishing Success , it seems I'm already doing pretty much everything he suggests - with one main exception.  The front covers of Tamsin and Rowan didn't give quite enough information.  A browser needs to be able to know, at a glance, what the product is and if it's likely to be their kind of thing. So, after a bit of thinking, I've now re-worked the front covers slightly by adding a subtitle which reads simply, "An artisan-sorcerer story."  This lets a browser know they're looking at a series, that the series doesn't have a number and so can be read in any order, and also gives a minimalist description of what the book is about.  Having re-done the covers, I then uploaded new versions to Smashwords and Kindle.  Rowan is currently only available on Kindle, but the paperback version should be out within days.  After May 17th, Rowan will have completed its three month's exc

Read an interview with me by Rachel Cooper here.   

A rugged path leads to the summit of Caldy Hill. This morning promised a glorious spring day, and so I went for a walk over Caldy Hill.  My two dogs kept me company, of course, as the likelihood of any human member of this household being able to head out for a walk without taking Emily and Ygraine along too is pretty slim.  Not unless you'd want to endure hours of grumpy yapping and sad-eyed sulking, that is.  The light wasn't too good for photography, really - Wales, on the opposite bank of the River Dee,  was totally obscured by haze - but the golden-yellow gorse is looking too lovely for me not to attempt a few shots.  It's a pity readers of this blog can't share the gorse's perfume...  Think of warm honey, with a dash of sharp lemon and you'll have a reasonable idea of the fragrance hanging on every slight breeze.   Most of the trees here are deciduous and it's still too early in the season for leaves, but every branch is covered in buds.  Daffodil

Penny, Felicity and Joyce enjoying the spring sunshine. Last night I discovered a flavour which I hate even more than aniseed, and that is cardamom.  Big pods of the stuff were in the curry which I had been really looking forward to, as I love a good curry.  Then I was attacked by what surely has to rank as being amongst the most vile flavours on earth.  People like this stuff?!!   Wikipedia describes it as having a "strong, unique taste".  I agree.  It's also revolting; spectacularly so, even. Each to our own, of course.  This body of mine has always had a strange relationship with some foods, which seems to run contrary to average reactions.  For example, peppermint tea, which is supposed to settle upset stomachs, actually makes me feel nauseous.  Salad, beloved by millions, gives me excruciating indigestion, as do certain dark green foods.  Echinacea, which is supposed to boost the immune system, gives me splitting headaches.  I could go on, but I'd only bore

The shape of sound demonstrated with salt. The plane is vibrated at a specific frequency. The waves travel across the plane and at someplaces they add together and at other places they cancel out. Where they cancel out, the salt sticks because there are no vibrations, and at other places it just gets vibrated away. "In the beginnning was the Word (vibration)..."