New book!

So how was your Christmas? I hope you had a lovely time, and that Father Christmas brought you everything you wanted. I have it on good authority that lots of people have been given new Kindles for Christmas so I've timed my most exciting news for this post-Christmas period!

I now have a brand new book available on Amazon as a Kindle e-book, under my own name (Sheila Norton). It's called 'Sophie Being Single', it's the first of a series of three books about three sisters - one single, one married and one divorced. And it won't add too much stress to your post-Christmas bank balances, at only £2.29 for a download.

At thirty-four, Sophie Jennings is still single, and that’s the way she likes it. She has her own flat, a good social life and a gorgeous boyfriend, Charlie, who feels exactly the same as she does – settling down, marriage and children aren’t on the agenda for either of them. She also has her own business, ironically doing wedding hair and make-up. While her married and attached friends think she’s weird and her family think she’s selfish, all her bridal clients for some reason seem to want to use her as an agony aunt! Hearing about so many horrible husbands and bastard boyfriends convinces her she’s definitely best off as she is – satisfyingly single. Or is she ...?


'Sophie Being Single' is a feel-good read for the New Year with lots of laughs and some emotional anguish along the way - I really hope my readers will enjoy this new book and will be looking forward to the other two sisters' stories when they've finished reading it.

If you do read the book please let me know if you enjoy it!

And Happy New Year to everyone! Let's hope it's a successful one for us all.

Writers and Libraries feature

Just to let you know, the feature I wrote almost a year ago about Writers and Libraries (A Special Relationship) has just been published in the February edition of 'Writers' Forum' - out now! (I had to look twice at the magazine but yes, it's the February edition!).

I hope it helps to publicise the case for keeping the library service afloat - as well as making other writers realise just how much we do need them, and sometimes take it for granted.

And thanks to Dawn for pointing out to me that the feature was published ... I'd put the magazine aside to read after Christmas!

Christmas memories

Like most of us, I suppose, at this time of year I often think about all the Christmases we've enjoyed with our other halves and our families over the years. Of course, the older we get the more Christmases there are to remember! Some Christmases are particularly special for various reasons - others more difficult - and some Christmas memories just give us a good story to make people laugh! Here are a few of my favourites from our own family archives:

* I met my husband on the 23 December at a teenage dance in the 1960s. I didn't know then, of course, how long it was going to last! But he did see me all the way home that first night (a journey of two bus-rides), even though it would mean a long walk back from my side of town to his afterwards. And he did take me to the Ilford Palais the next night - Christmas Eve - which, as I was still a schoolgirl, seemed like a really glamorous date! So I guess he got off to a good start!

* Our first daughter was 5 months old at her first Christmas, and we thought it would be nice, now we were a family, to have our Christmas dinner on our own with our baby before going to my parents in the afternoon. Our little one sat in her 'baby bouncer' crying all the way through our meal. But we put a paper hat on her and took a photo of her for the album - which seemed to cheer her up!

* Both our second and third daughters were born at Christmas time, so from then on it became both a busy time and a very special one for our family. Johnny Mathis' song 'When a Child Is Born' was released in 1976 when No.2. baby was due to be born, and we bought 3 copies: one for ourselves, and one for each set of parents, as it felt like 'our song'!

* Two years later, our youngest (third) daughter was actually due on Christmas day. We went to my parents for the day, and I was instructed to sit still, not move, and not to dare give birth until at least the dinner was over! In fact we made it home in the evening, and to bed, before things started happening - and she arrived on Boxing Day morning.

* I remember a Christmas Eve when the eldest daughter was playing Mary in her Sunday School nativity at the church carol service. Second daughter was only three, but she wanted a part too so she was allowed to be a donkey. We dressed her in brown trousers, brown jumper and a brown hat with cardboard ears attached - and pinned a tail on her trousers made from plaited brown wool. During the service she became bored and started twiddling with her tail, much to everyone's amusement, especially us - we were in pride of place in the front row, watching her!

* Then there was the Christmas when our oven died, halfway through cooking the turkey. Fortunately my next-door neighbour, a very good friend, had cooked hers on Christmas Eve so when I yelled over the fence for help, she was able to transfer our half-cooked bird to her oven!

* When the girls started school I started teaching music to groups of children after school - including our own daughters. At Christmas time, I'd teach them to play lots of carols on their recorders, and eventually I had some more advanced players who could play the tenor and treble recorders. I got the children playing two and three part harmonies and on the last lesson before Christmas, I always invited their parents to come and listen while we entertained them. Once or twice we were invited to play at carol services, and one year we also went out carol-singing, with some of the kids accompanying us on their recorders. We collected for the local hospice. I think about those evenings fondly now, when groups of kids knock on my door, mumble a couple of lines of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' and expect a handout - for themselves!

* And then, on a very different note, there was the Christmas Eve when I was working at the hospital, when the after-work drinks party went on a bit, and I was enjoying myself, and ... somehow forgot I hadn't bought any vegetables for the Christmas dinner. The shops were closed by the time I got home. Oddly, I still can't remember what we ate with our turkey that year! I guess I must have had some frozen peas in the freezer!

* There was one year my brother, sister-in-law and their children came over from Australia for Christmas - and it snowed. The kids had never seen snow. We all went out for a walk in the woods and it was perfect - I think my neice still talks about it now she has her own children!

* And now we've come full circle. We're grandparents, and starting all over again with the lovely excitement of Christmas with a house full of little ones. Little Noah might not yet have a complete understanding of what it's all about but I'm sure he's going to enjoy it all this year. And as for our three new baby girls - now 5 and a half months, 4 months and nearly 2 months - all we can hope is that they feed, sleep and smile contentedly for us and that we get through the festivities without too much screaming (from children or adults!). Hopefully this year's will be another Christmas to remember.

I'm sure my daughters will remind me of others - good and bad - that I've left out. Maybe we'll talk about that over Christmas dinner! I'd like to finish off by wishing all my readers a very happy Christmas making your own special memories. And let's hope 2012 is a good year for us all.

Full of woe?

I'm gutted! Devastated! Humiliated! OK, I'll calm down in a minute, but I don't think you can blame me for being upset. For the whole of my life, I've believed something about myself (obviously told to me by my parents) which I've just discovered isn't true!

I'd better explain. The other day we were talking with our eldest daughter about which days of the week the grandchildren were born on. We had a Monday's child first; and the new babies have been Sunday, Saturday and Friday in that order. You know the old rhyme, don't you? Monday's child is fair of face, etc. So we got to discussing how true the various labels were, in terms of our own family. We thought it was most unfair, and untrue, for poor Middle Daughter to be labelled 'full of woe' (being a Wednesday child), but the others (Sunday and Tuesday) have nice, complimentary descriptions attached to them. I was happy to show off about being a Friday's child - loving and giving. Nice one. I've always thought that was obviously a fair and accurate description of my loving and giving self! (!)

When it came to my husband, we giggled pityingly about the fact that he didn't even know which day of the week he was born on. Well, granted we were both born a long time ago! - but my Mum had made a point of letting me know (so I thought) about being a Friday's child. So this morning I got on the internet and looked up the calendar for our year of birth - and giggled a bit more to see that he was actually a Monday's child - fair of face. Ha! Well, I suppose he'll like that!

And then I checked my own birthdate. I don't know why - after all, I knew it was a Friday, didn't I. And I nearly choked on my cup of tea. There it was, in black and white (well, in figures on the screen) - a WEDNESDAY. What??? Has someone been fiddling with the calendar? I was so shocked, I had to exit the page, go back into it and look again. But there's no getting away from it: my lovely mum either got muddled up with the day, or just told me it was a Friday to keep me happy! Fair enough, if I'd gone through life believing I was Full of Woe, I might have turned out differently! (I hope my lovely middle daughter doesn't believe in all this stuff!).

Of course, I don't really believe in it myself, either - but it just goes to show how easy it is to believe something about yourself, just because you've been told it for so long. As a postscript, I had a quick look at the calendar for my older brother's year of birth. I was wondering whether Mum could have got the two of us confused - maybe he was the Friday child! But no - he was born on a Thursday. And for once, this is completely appropriate. He emigrated to Australia at the age of 22 and has lived there ever since. Thursday's Child has far to go!

OK, I'm off to bury my Woeful head in shame. Loving and giving? Well, I did try!

A tale of three babies - and a new e-book.

Well finally, after what feels like a whole year of waiting (and I guess it has been, actually!), we now have all three of our new grandbabies safely delivered. And ... it's a matching set! Yes, history seems to be repeating itself. Thirty-odd years ago we had our own three little girls, close enough in age to grow up together with all the joys, companionship and the odd argument that entails! And now, each of the girls has produced a daughter of their own during the last few months.

If you've managed to wade through my recent blog postings (and I know some of you have followed this on Facebook too), you'll know we had Caitlin Emily in July, Alice Molly in August, and now - last Friday, the 28th October, Kitty Ruth arrived. She's a lovely little sister for Noah George, who has been a specially good boy and as you can see from the pictures below, has welcomed her in the nicest way! Noah is going to grow up as the Big Boy of the family and we're sure all the little girls will look up to him and think he's the Bees Knees!

And here's a picture of the three girls with the three girls! How lovely that the cousins are so very close in age and we hope they'll grow up to be as close as their mummies still are.

Writing news has taken a bit of a back seat as you can imagine, but I do have one announcement: The first of my Olivia Ryan books ('Tales from a Hen Weekend') has now been published on Amazon for Kindle - at the very special price of only £1.14 (even more of a bargain than my Sheila Norton Kindle books!). Here's the new cover image:

And although I've decided to publish this under my own name 'writing as Olivia Ryan' (now everyone knows who I am!), you'll find the e-book on the Olivia Ryan page - there's no facility for being in two places at once on Amazon, unfortunately!

Just a couple of days before Kitty was born, I had a short story accepted by my editor at The People's Friend. It had been under consideration since April so I was pleased it's sold - especially as it's about a grandma whose whole family produces babies during the same year! Although it's not my life story at all, I must confess to having been inspired by events in our own family! So the story will always be a little bit special to me. I'll let you know when it's published.

A 'People's Friend' kind of day.

Hello - how are you all? Just thought I'd tell you about my day today, because it really sums up the life of a short story writer!

This morning I was sitting working on my writing when an e-mail came through from 'my' editor at PF, rejecting a recent story I'd sent her. So far, so all-too depressingly ordinary ... I've had several other rejections recently from other mags.

About half an hour later, another e-mail came through from PF. This time it was one of their routine ones to advise me that a previously-accepted story is going to be in this week's issue. Ah well, that cheered me up!

Went out for a couple of hours, came back - and there was yet another e-mail, from the editor again - but this time it was an acceptance! Yay! A story they'd had since March has made the grade. I'm really pleased about this one, too, as it's about someone whose whole family are producing grandchildren at the same time. Does that sound familiar? No, I haven't just written my own life story, but I can't deny my own situation was the inspiration!

Here are some recent pics of our two gorgeous granddaughters - while we're still waiting for the next baby to arrive - and one of Big Cousin Noah - taken on his second birthday last month - because I think it's such a happy picture of him.

Caitlin at 3 months - Alice at 2 months - Noah at 2 years

Just not meant to be?

Have you ever resigned yourself to something not happening, deciding that the best way of looking at it is that it 'just wasn't meant to be'? That's just happened to me, with a competition I was going to enter.

I think, actually, I was kidding myself a bit, even thinking of entering it. It's the The Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award 2012 - which is only open to published writers, so you can imagine how high the standard must be. OK, I'm published, and I write a lot of short stories too, but normally my stories are specifically geared to the womag market and not really the sort that I'd enter for what sounds like quite a 'literary' competition. But it just so happens I've got one story that might 'fit' ... I wrote it just because it was a story I wanted to write, not for any particular market, and I only ever submitted it to one magazine. I wasn't surprised it was rejected as 'unsuitable', and I didn't try it with any others as it just isn't a typical womag story (and at just under 3000 words, it's also too long for most of them).

So I downloaded the entry form and instructions, etc, and then (typically) put them to one side and spent more than a month dithering about it. But for some reason, today, I suddenly decided I was going to enter it. I told myself it was being a bit ridiculous, that with all the Very Clever Writers obviously entering (it's a big prize), I had absolutely no chance ... but equally, absolutely nothing to lose.

I read the list of formatting requirements, and started making a few necessary amendments to my text (no indenting, no page numbers, that kind of thing) ... and then read the rules. Oh yes, I should have done that first! One of them states that by entering the competition, you agree to make yourself available to attend any events you may be asked to, during the lead-up to the awards ceremony, which is part of the Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival. And the dates are ... when I'll be in Australia next spring, visiting my brother!

Now, I must admit I hesitated. After all, the only people who'll be required to attend those events will be those who are at least long-listed, if not short-listed. And that's never going to be me! But ... after all, what would be the point in entering, if I was so certain of having no chance whatsoever of coming anywhere, that I was prepared to turn a blind eye to that requirement? And it is one of the rules. Supposing they decided to invite the writer of the worst entry in the competition to go along - a bit like the worst performers on X-Factor are publicly humiliated! Not that the Sunday Times are likely to behave like that, of course!

So, needless to say, only a couple of hours after deciding to give it a go, I've had to abandon the whole idea. Being contrary by nature, I'm now feeling disappointed that I'm not entering after all! But of course, the trip to Australia will more than make up for it! And ... maybe next year, I'll dig that story out again and actually enter it.