Tag Archives: The Awesomeness Of Me

Signing Stuff.

I’m not sure which strikes more terror into the heart of a writer – editor’s letters or book signings.

So far, my only experience has been with the former. I shall now be donning my Stompy Boots of Doom, and heading out into the real world where humans live, and finding out what the other is like. It’s all in the name of science.

Cavendish Exclusive Books is hosting moi at a book signing. Obviously, you want to be there because there is nothing more hilarious than a writer out of its element, staring wide-eyed with fear at shoppers. This is how you will get your kicks on Saturday the 29th of August. After which you will go have lunch and wonder if it would have been kinder to shoot me.

I’m kidding. ๐Ÿ˜‰ A little.

In all seriousness, you’re invited, and if you’d like to come join me there please RSVP cavendishdeputy at exclusivebooks dot co dot za.


2014: A Retrospective

I have a tendency to be quite a negative person – always focusing on the crappy stuff instead of the good, so by the time the end of the year rolls around I’m like waaaah what was the point of that, why do i exist, lalalalala etc.


So instead, I will look at the cool things that happened this year.


1: We moved into our own house, not a rental.

2: I got to rehome six battery hens and now I eat actual free range eggs every day. YAY HAPPY CHOOKS

3: I started learning archery, French, and aikido, all of which I am terrible at, but have immense fun doing anyway.

4: The Boy and I saw Tori Amos live. (let me repeat that. TORI. AMOS. LIVE. NNNGHH. YES.)

5: I spent time with friends and family who are important to me.

6: Folded Wherry brought out the paperback version of House of Sand and Secrets.

7: I had cool and unexpected phonecalls with publishing people.

8: Some short stories of mine were published in awesome mags: Waking, and The Girls Who Go Below.

9: I became a squeaky mom to three adorable guinea pigs.

10: *Finally* finished some books that were languishing on my hard drive, and started some new projects.



A good year, yes. ๐Ÿ˜€



A quick update.


I have struggled with depression and low self-esteem all my life. Like many writers (I’ve noticed a trend :P), I can remember word for word any negative review of my work, and dismiss the positive ones because…well, I can’t even explain why. It’s not logical. I *know* it’s not logical, but somehow that makes no difference.

In my head, it’s because I know the negative ones are right. My stories do suck, my characters are horrible and awful, I should learn how to world-build, I should stick to my day job. Those voices are just affirming what Innerย  Cat already knows. The people who like my work are…lying, for some reason of their own.

Does any of this sound like the thinkings of a logical mind? Not really, right? And yet they are my daily thoughts.

So now a confession. I have a taken a step (or several) towards correcting my problems with depression and self-hatred. Some of these are medical, some are physical, some are small and simple but manage to give me some sense of accomplishment over my life. Like keeping a daily pen-and-paper to-do journal, and breaking everything down into small steps. (It’s not clean the house – it’s make the bed, sweep the floor, fold the laundry, room by room. It’s marking off showering and taking vitamins, and walking the dogs and going to buy milk. Things that I have trouble recognising as accomplishments because I gather to most people they are not. When you are depressed, I promise you, showering *is* a huge fucking accomplishment.)

Physically, I’ve been weight-lifting. This started because I wanted to get better at archery, but has turned into something I really love. I’ve always been pretty weak (upper body especially) so every small gain, every tiny plate I add to that barbell is a giant FUCK YEAH I AM AWESOME and it makes me feel superhuman.

There has been a bizarre downside to feeling better about myself and doing things that make me happy, and that’s been a complete failure to write. Part of me wants to blame it on medication, but I think the truth is that I’m terrified it’s the meds and so I’m too scared to try and have it confirmed. Because then writing is over. I will *not* trade words for the joy of feeling permanently suicidal.

So I’ve been editing an old work, and telling myself that editing, and adding 100 words a day to this thing is writing. I might not be making a new story, but I’m still being creative. Small steps, goals I can reach, goals that don;t make me feel like a failure.

And finally, an apology. I’m sorry I’ve been shitty to a number of people online and in real life recently (and not so recently), I’ve been trying to find a good place in my head, and I think I am a lot closer to it right now, and there’s a weird clarity to it that highlights my awfulness while also saying, okay, it’s over, you can move forward now. I’m going to do better, and be more careful with other people’s feelings.



3(1) day Challenge

I’m going to go through the whole of October without an alcoholic drink.

And the only reason I’m posting this is so that I will be shamed into not-failing.



It’s like a war cry:

The gardener yawp.

Okay seriously, today I have planted the bush bean seeds, the maize seeds, the sunflower seeds, and prepped the asparagus beds. Woosh.

Null and Void canters along, doing a nice little clip, and bringing me to just shy of 5 k. Go little book go!

The sprogs and I baked Christmas decorations (yeah, I know…) and tomorrow we varnish them and put ribbons on. So that’s exciting. I think we need to do a baked theme for the tree this year – I have the urge to make fimo cupcake decorations to go with the cinnamon biscuit ones… You know Saint Nicholas would totes approve, yeah?

(Saint Nick, busy approving)