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I’m getting ready to self-publish my third book on September 30th and had the brilliant idea of teaching myself to use InDesign to format it. As a longtime user of other Adobe programmes, I thought, “How difficult can it be?”
The answer: Bloody difficult!
Text boxes are now text frames.
You don’t import pictures, you place them and don’t get me started on setting up multiple Master pages!
Every second YouTube tutorial contradicts the one before.
This may take a little while.
This is a picture of the inspiration for Murphy’s pub in ASHES ON THE TONGUE. Glad to say it’s still going strong today.
“Silence permeates the house, broken only by the crackling of the Sunday newspaper in the parlour and the small sounds of Ruby going about her chores. She black-leads the stove, rakes the ashes and sweeps the hearth before getting the fire started. While the kitchen heats up, she lays a cast iron frying pan on the electric cooker in the scullery, a knob of lard set to melt. Victor expects his fry-up and soda bread to be on the table before noon to set him up for his day’s drinking in Murphy’s pub at the bottom of the street. “
It’s getting near the publication date for my cosy mystery, Albert’s Garden – not written in stone yet (excuse the unintentional pun) but definitely well before Christmas.
I’m thinking of a minimal feel for the cover design, as it’s under a pen name and quite different to my previous books.
This is my first effort and I know it will change quite a few times before I reach the final version.
A bit dull down at Skylarks Nature Reserve this morning.
“Where do all the butterflies go when it’s like this?” I asked Jan.
So she found one for me –
a lovely brimstone hanging upside down, buried in the grasses.
Just got my hands on a hardback version of
Ashes on the Tongue, a beta option being rolled out by Amazon.
Delighted with the quality.
Unfortunately, I can’t keep it as it’s on the way to a reader in Northern Ireland after I’ve signed it.
A small selection of the many messages I’ve received about Ashes on the Tongue. Thank you to all the lovely ladies who took the time to contact me. 💕 Buy here as eBook, Paperback or Hardback .
Under the sweet-peas I stood
And drew deep breaths, they smelt so good.
Then, with strange enchanted eyes,
I saw them change to butterflies.
Higher than the skylark sings
I saw their fluttering crimson wings
Leave their garden-trellis bare
And fly into the upper air.
Standing in an elfin trance
Through the clouds I saw them glance….
Then I stretched my hands up high
And touched them in the distant sky.
At once the coloured wing came back
From wandering in the zodiac.
Under the sweet-peas I stood
And drew deep breaths. They smelt so good.
Found on Twitter this morning.
These are the graves of a Catholic woman and her Protestant husband, who were not allowed to be buried together in 1888 in the Netherlands.
In this (hopefully) more enlightened age, wouldn’t it be lovely if that wall was torn down?