Saturday 28 July 2012

Poetry publication and a Goodreads giveaway.

Well, I meant to write last night, whilst watching the Olympics opening ceremony. Who could do anything other than watch though? It was an amazing spectacle.

Yesterday I received a letter from Forward Poetry to let me know that one of my poems is going to be featured in an anthology to be published later this year.  It's a collection of poems to celebrate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee, and my poem is called "Jubilee Memories". I do think of myself more of a prose than poetry writer, so it is always a great feeling to have my poetry appreciated too.

You may have noticed that there is now a box to the right of the screen there linking to a Goodreads giveaway.  I am giving away a free signed copy of Charcoal through the site, closing date August 25th.  All you have to do is be a Goodreads member and click on the link.

If  you aren't already on Goodreads and you like reading - or if you are an author - then I highly recommend it.

Of course, you can still buy an ebook or paperback version of Charcoal from Amazon by clicking here.
If you have already bought and enjoyed it, it would be great if you could leave a review, and also tell your friends about it.

Wednesday 25 July 2012

Interview with a Vamp...no, wait...with me!

If you are interested in finding out a bit more about the background behind "Charcoal", where my ideas come from, or even where I come from, then head on over to "Sarah Writes".

It is an excellent blog, and this week features an interview with me, and a chance to win a copy of the paperback version of my novel.


Apologies for the lack of Monday evening writing this week.  The group worked on writing synopses, which involved debate over the storyline of Snow White, and several versions of the tale. I'll share this poem with you instead...there's a sweary in there - sorry!

A Keeper

They said, "He's a Keeper"
Which meant, I think, to them,
With their well-meaning ways,
That I should try to be
More than my normal self -
Or at least less like 'me'.

Without the cloying edge,
The sticky lust for love.
Keep my thoughts well tucked up
And try not to fuck up (this time).

But I'm not "a Keeper"
Which means, I think, to them,
With over-bearing ways,
I must try more to be
Unlike my normal self -
And means, to me, I'm 'me'.

Wednesday 18 July 2012

FREE download - today only!

#FREE book! 

You can download Charcoal by J.E.Rowney from Amazon FREE today only! 

Love, lust and obsession...and what happens when it all goes wrong. 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Charcoal-ebook/dp/B008FKBUJW

htttp://www.amazon.com/charcoal-ebook/dp/B008FKBUJW

Please Share!

Tuesday 17 July 2012

Routine

Last night's subject at Holmfirth Writers Group was the ordinary, everyday things. We put so much time and attention into capturing the spectacular, and the unusual, it was interesting to focus upon the minutiae of routine.

This was what I came up with in the thirty minute slot. It gave me lots of ideas for the future too though!




Routine

He sets the alarm for half past six.  Every morning, that blaring siren shocks her from sleep. She rolls, presses the off button and he goes back to his dreams, while she lies, bleary eyed, unnecessarily awake. She watches the shadows dance on the ceiling, imagining patterns, shapes, thinking of anything apart from the here and now.

At seven o'clock, she slides from beneath the duvet, opens the curtain. A crack at first, as if testing the day, dipping her toe before taking the plunge. But it's delaying the inevitable. There's no escaping it.

Glancing back to the bed, she sees him. One hairy buttock exposed, a leg poking out, the cover angled across him. She tries to stop the grimace that her thoughts cause to form, but she fails, and turns away.

Shower. Too hot. Always too hot. He changes the dial, raises the temperature, and every day she has to set it back. Make things normal again. She looks for the shampoo. Lid off. Standing on the floor. Why? Is it too much trouble to leave it somewhere reachable, somewhere convenient? Conditioner. Still here. He doesn't use it, doesn't touch it. A small victory. It is here; it is hers.

She towel dries her hair and puts on her robe. The one from the set. The "His and Hers". They look ridiculous - or they would if they ever wore them together. But their routine overlaps, mismatches, never quite concurs.

Back into the bedroom, he's lying on his back now. Snores echoing, naked, fully naked now. She looks away. It's twenty past seven.

Unseen, she dresses. The pink frillies underneath, black shift above. She pulls on the stockings, slips on the shoes, nods at her reflection and smiles. She sees his reflection behind her, and the smile snaps shut.

It's half past seven. She dries her hair downstairs, adding a handful of mousse, scrunching out her curls. Stands at the mirror in the living room, and applies her make-up, leaning over the framed photograph of him and her, four years ago. Her in a cream dress, him in a suit, smiling. Then it felt like truth. This thing that they were. It felt real, it felt permanent. Then, there was hope.

Now what was left? The day-to-day, passing each other, sharing a house. Dinners left in the oven for later. Plans left on the shelf for later. Hope lost somewhere along the way.

She keeps catching a glance of the photograph as she's reaching out with the mascara wand, stroking her eyelashes. She looked so much younger then. Or happier. It's eight o'clock.

She reaches out for the frame, picks it up, studies the two of them in their newly-wed stupor. And she almost, almost smiles, until she looks up and sees him there, reflected in the doorway. She puts the picture back and carries on with the routine.

Free Download Wednesday!

On Wednesday 18th July, the ebook version of my novel will be available as a FREE download from Amazon.

Remember that you don't have to own a Kindle to download and read it. You can get an app for the PC, iPad, iPhone, etc, which is just as effective.

The link is the same as the usual Amazon link to the book:


UK readers:  http://amazon.co.uk/Charcoal-ebook/dp/B008FKBUJW
USA readers: http://amazon.com/Charcoal-ebook/dp/B008FKBUJW

Please share this information widely! If you have read the book already, share with your friends!

Tuesday 10 July 2012

On Writing (Groups)

So, by now you know about my novel and where to buy it.

I have been working on my next book, which is an exploration of how we can set people upon a pedestal, and forget sometimes that they are, like us, only human.

An extract from "Charcoal" was read out on the local radio station over the weekend, as part of a presentation by Holmfirth Writers Group. Thanks to the powers of modern technology, you can use the "Listen Again" feature to hear it for yourself at:   http://www.twovalleysradio.co.uk/listenagain/

I am very grateful to Sarah Collie, another very talented writer, who read the extract for me, as I was unable to attend in person.  Sarah maintains an excellent blog at: http://spud09.blogspot.co.uk/

I joined Holmfirth Writers Group earlier this year, when I was "getting serious" about writing. The first ten percent of "Charcoal" took about two years to write, the remainder I wrote over the past six months. Knowing that I was not the only person sitting at a keyboard for hours on end - creating, deleting, frustrating, repeating, writing, writing, writing - that made all the difference. Other people were writing too - and I found them!

We meet weekly, write, read and share. And then we go to the pub for conversation and chips. It seems to be a long standing tradition!

I thought I would start to share my Monday night writing with you. It's spur of the moment, written in twenty minutes stuff, generated from a particular trigger from the week's "leader". Facilitator may be a better word.

Tonight, inspired by our recent weather, our topic was water.  I wrote this poem.

To The Sea


When the darkest days
Wrap their arms around me
Clawing, tearing, ripping deep.
When sense makes no sense.
I lose who I am.
I lose my purpose.
And doubt drags heavily.
When I am drained,
A shell, my tears spent,
A desert left inside of me.
Nothing else.
No trace of moisture left to spare -
Arid and incomplete.
Then, there is respite.
A rejuvination,
A rebalancing salination,
Provided only by the sea.
Then, the crashing waves
Echo my name back in their thunder,
Throwing themselves, tumbling.
Then, the immense tidal swell
Reminds me I am small
But strong in my stumbling.
The surf, a thousand tiny diamonds
Sparkling atop the deep emerald waves.
Priceless. Essential.
In the air, in the sound,
In the taste of salt on the wind,
I find who I am.
I find my purpose.

Wednesday 4 July 2012

Paperback format available now!

I am pleased to announce that "Charcoal" is now available for purchase in paperback format.


You can buy it from  Amazon.co.uk

or, if you are in the US, from Amazon.com


Please remember to return and leave a review once you have finished reading!