Friday, 31 October 2014

A little too much inspiration

Mr M read my book!

(I know, it's only taken like a *month and a half*)

He read it in one sitting last night, crashed out on the sofa with the dog, whilst I sat at the table typing away at my vanilla novel and occasionally craning around to try and see what chapter he was up to.

He said he liked it, that it was 'sweet'...and then he took me upstairs for a good girl spanking.

So far, so good, right?

Sunday, 19 October 2014

Am I scared of you?

Last night.

It's past midnight and I'm curled up on someone else's sofa. The coffee table in front of me is heaving with half empty glasses, even emptier wine bottles, cards and scraps of wrapping paper. My lips are stained with red wine and my eyes are heavy.

There is laughter in another room. Some of the guests are calling their goodbyes from the hallway. But it's emptied in here and now there is just me and one of the other guests.

We are laughing, talking about something inconsequential. He's sitting on a dining chair all the way across the room. Not a threat.

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

My name is Gracie Malling and I am a spanking novel addict

It started with a kindle.

It was a present. An unwanted present, to be honest. Last summer. For my 28th birthday.

I had always been resistant to kindles. Because, y'know, I love books. Real books. I love the feel and the smell of them. I love the look of them, all mismatched and crinkled lined up in crooked rows on my bookcase. I love enraging Mr M by turning over the corners of pages rather than using a bookmark...

So this kindle is presented to me and I smile and say 'thanks so much' because that's just the nice kind of person I am but I absolutely, positively have *no intention* of actually paying to download anything.

Monday, 22 September 2014

I wrote a book!

A whole book. With a beginning, a middle, an end and everything!

Just to put this momentous occasion into context: I have wanted to write a book since I was about eight years old. That was - not to put too fine a point on it - a really long time ago. The ensuing 20-odd years have consisted of starting about a million books but never finishing any of them.

I don't suffer with writer's block so much as 'writer's over-active imagination'. Inevitably, halfway through one book, I would get an amazing idea for another and just have to start it right away. And then this pattern pretty much repeated itself over and over and over for years...