sallymurphy.com.au

Sally Murphy, Australian author

What Warms Anita Bell’s Heart

by

As the cold snap continues here in Australia (or at least many parts of the country), I am loving this series of heart-warming posts from my friends. Today I’m really thrilled to welcome Anita Bell who has gone the extra mile with her post, writing in rhyme to tell of her ‘interesting’ travels of late. Welcome Anita.

My Heartwarming Week from Hell
By Oz Author, AA Bell 

The day that Sally called me, just to ask to play my part                        
In joining in her blog for friends, to say what warmed my heart,            
I was stuck in Sydney Qantas lounge, no thanks to ash from Chile         
While that grumpy Mount Pew-hey-you, spewed its guts up willy nilly.
I was stuck in crowds of thousands, singing songs of luck and woe,
While we bedded down on luggage, with our bodies head to toe,
With smelly socks and dirty frocks, and coughing from the flu,
And an airport filled with tourists; ninety nine for every loo.  
And then I made the dumb mistake of eating spicy food,
Which made my face swell twice its size; I really looked a dude!
I coughed and sneezed for three days hence, I sadly grew so pale,
And then I caught the flu myself; my whole week was a fail.
But airport staff were fabulous, they really did their job
And tourists from all languages were one big friendly mob
I made it down to Melbourne with a hundred brand new friends,
And a firm belief the loos have less for ladies than for mens.
Bad news didn’t end there, but I also must confess,
My thriller won a huge award; for excellence no less
(For both fantasy and sci-fi, and its name is Diamond Eyes,
about a girl who can see history; it’s for older girls and guys.)
Then three days on, there came the time it was to fly me home
So off to Melbourne airport in a taxi I did roam.
We ran the lights, we crashed the car and ran clear out of fuel
I walked the last mile in the rain, (past a cops-n-robber duel!)
I made it though, no time to spare. I bolted to the gate,
Where the hostess made a call to tell me fin’ly of my fate;
No plane for me at all that day.
The ash was back to play.
No refunds, no deferrals, and no way to make amends
I spun to find the nearest loo, and my next one hundred friends.
Browse Inside the multi-award winning Diamond Eyes here:
See the Book Trailers & Original Theme Song, which have gone viral here:

What Warms Julie Nickerson’s Heart?

by

 Time for another heart-warming post. If you’re a regular here, I hope you’ve been enjoying this series where various friends are dropping in to share just what it is that warms their hearts. Today, I’m delighted  to welcome Julie Nickerson, who has a mouth watering post – makes me want to head Julie’s way to find that restaurant – and that tart.

Welcome Julie!
What Warms Julie Nickerson’s Heart?

When Sally invited me to write a blog post about what warms my heart, my thoughts immediately turned to food. Let’s face it, ask me anything and my initial reaction will be a food-related response: What warms your heart? Hot apple crumble and a skinny latte. What time is it? Time for (insert any food item here). Does my bum look big in this? What … is that … is that pizza I can smell?
However, I decided to rise above my food fascination on this occasion and write about something deep and meaningful that warms my heart. A piece of writing featuring a comment by my son, a missing book, and Edward Lear soon ensued but it was as boring as, well, a brussel sprout. So I tossed that idea and sat back to wait for the next idea to come, which it didn’t.
A few nights later, I was out with my school-mum friends at my favourite restaurant eating hot apple crumble and a skinny latte when I was reminded of the blog post I was yet to write. When I asked my friends what they thought might warm my heart, they pointed to the food in front of me (they know me well), putting me right back where I started. But the conversation continued and soon turned to friendships and how I frequented this particular restaurant with both my school-mum friends and my writing friends, and that there was one thing on the menu that I had each and every time, regardless of who I was with. Then it hit me. I knew what warmed my heart, every time, without fail – cheese tart!
Now, this is not just any old cheese tart. This is the crème de la crème of cheese tarts. Adelaide Hills goat cheese, parmesan, melt-in-your-mouth pastry, caramelised onion and balsamic vinegar; to-die-for good. And it must be shared. With best friends. Always.
On this particular night I was sharing it with the school-mums, but I also often share it with my writing buddy; my critique partner. My dear, sweet friend who listens to my story ideas, no matter how waffly they may be; reads my manuscripts and very politely points out the awful bits and puts smiley faces on the good bits; and who is there to share the roller coaster writing journey with me, no matter whether we’ve got our hands in the air through the loop-de-loop or have been left dangling upside down from the carriage during a technical fault. Most importantly, she is the co-discoverer of the power of the cheese tart. We only have to mention ‘cheese tart’ and we know that’s the code word for one (or both) of us needing to meet up. One of the following five types of cheese tart consumption soon results:
Celebratory cheese tart: Used for celebrating all publishing-related successes – big, small and in-between. (“I just signed a book deal! And now I’m eating cheese tart! Huzzah!”)
Commiserative cheese tart: The quickest way to move on after those pesky rejections. (“Hey, this rejection letter isn’t so bad after all. It got me some cheese tart.”)
Brainstorming cheese tart: More fun than sitting at home talking to yourself as you throw ideas around. (“A giant chicken? Baa, haa, haa! Stop, I’m choking on my cheese tart!”)
Editorial cheese tart: This is a very serious cheese tart, consumed after feedback from an agent/publisher/editor. (“I’ve been working on this sentence for four days. Maybe if we eat cheese tart together, we can fix it.”)
Just-because cheese tart: It’s not always about the writing. Sometimes it’s about the friendship. (“Haven’t seen you for ages. Cheese tart?”)
As you have probably gathered, many cheese tarts were harmed in my journey to publication. And they remain in constant threat of destruction as long as I continue to write, and as long as my friends (school-mum, writing, or otherwise) are there to share it with me.
Yumm. Thanks Julie! Julie’s latest book is Pippa the Perfect Flower Girl:
 
You can learn more about Julie by visiting her online at www.julienickersonwriter.wordpress.com  

What Warms Kate Gordon’s Heart?

by

.

It’s still cold outside here in my part of the world, but when you feel good about life, even cold weather is bearable. So today I’m delighted to welcome the gorgeous Kate Gordon, author of Thyla who I invited to drop in and tell us what warms her heart

Welcome Kate!

What warms my heart?
The best thing about being a writer is finally feeling like I belong somewhere. I know it’s a horrible cliché, but my whole life I’ve never really felt like I fit anywhere. I wasn’t a cool kid. I wasn’t sporty. I wasn’t one of the high achievers. I wasn’t good at art. I was never in a band. I had great friends, but it always felt like I was somehow different from them; like there was something about me that meant I was always sort of on the outer edge.
I’m not saying I was special or unique; just that I hadn’t quite found my place in the world yet. Nobody was to blame but me. I put myself on the outer, I think, because I just didn’t quite know how to be around people. I never knew quite what to say or how to act. It wasn’t until I started writing that I found my voice. And it wasn’t until I started writing that I finally found a place to belong.
It’s an amazing feeling, seeing your book on the shelf amongst works by authors you love. Having the last name “Gordon” means I am often shelved next to John Green or Claudia Gray, or Cassandra Golds. Those are all writers who inspire and thrill me with their talent. In one book shop, I was even shelved next to a teen-cover version of Tess of the d’Urbervilles, which just so happens to be my favourite book of all time. Seeing that was a bit of a “Holy Meatballs” moment! But just as good as having my thoughts and ideas become an actual, physical object (that people actual buy and even like!!!) is the people I’ve met on the road to that moment.
Before I started down this road, I was a tad scared of agents, publishers and editors – the same way I’m a tad scared of doctors and lawyers and teachers. I imagined them as people much smarter and cooler than I was. I was probably right! But the ones I have worked with are also some of the nicest, funniest, kindest, most generous people I have ever met.
Ditto the writers I have met along the way. I’m sure there are some really nasty writers out there somewhere, but I haven’t encountered any yet. The ones I’ve met have welcomed me into their community with open arms; have bought my books and spruiked them to others; have listened and been supportive when I’ve encountered challenges; have offered advice; have had stupid Twitter conversations with me about zombie ants and super hero authors. I can’t even begin to say how much all of that has meant to me. Even the zombie ants. Maybe especially the zombie ants!
When I catch up with old friends – at weddings mostly, these days – it feels like we’ve never been apart, even if we haven’t seen each other for a year; even if we live now at opposite sides of the country. When I catch up with the people I’ve met on this writing journey – be it online or in the “real world” – it feels the same. My writing friends now feel like old friends, even if I’ve just met them, because they “get” me. I have never felt this understood or this supported.
It’s also amazing to me that I’m now able to communicate with writers I’ve admired all my life. Last week, I finished the absolutely sublime new book by Steven Herrick. Steven has been a hero of mine since I heard him talk when I was fourteen years old. It was after hearing him speak that I decided I wanted to be a writer. For me, every time one of his books comes out, it’s an event, and I’ve never been disappointed. But Black Painted Fingernails was something else. It was good enough to immediately catapult into my list of favourite books of all time. And, after I posted about it on Facebook, Steven Herrick replied! That was up there with the day Ann M Martin followed me on Twitter, and when Neil Gaiman replied to one of my tweets. I try and be cool, of course, when these things happen. Often, I fail dismally. I’m still waiting for the day when Steven Herrick, Nick Earls or Margo Lanagan “Facebooking”  or “Tweeting” me becomes normal. I kind of hope that day never comes. I kind of hope it never loses its magic. I hope it never stops warming my heart!
Thanks Kate! Loved reading this – and can really relate.
You can   learn more about Kate by visiting her website. And keep your eye out for moe of my friends visiting this blog to share what warms their hearts.

A Story – and a Thankyou

by

A couple of years ago I had a pretty disheartening experience. I had an hour to kill whilst I waited for my beloved to finish an appointment, so I walked along a busy Perth street, browsing in shops and enjoying myself. There were three bookshops in the street, so I thought I’d check and see if any were stocking my books. Pearl Verses the World had been out for several months, had great reviews, and had recently won the Indie Children’s Book Award. Snowy’s Christmas had been out only a few weeks, and Christmas was approaching. So, in spite of rarely having seen my books in bookshops, I was fairly optimistic of finding one or both displayed in at least one of the three stores.
I entered the first store – whilst I won’t name it, it was part of one of the big book chains in Australia. No sign of either book (or any of my others), no friendly staff looking like they wanted to serve me, so I left, feeling only slightly dispirited, and headed to store number two, across the road.
This store was, like the first, one of the big chains, and, like the first had neither of my books, nor any staff who seemed to want to meet my eye and chat with me. 
By this time I was feeling a bit low. But a block down the road was another bookstore. And this one, I was certain,  would stock my book because it was an independent bookshop and part of the buying group that sponsored the award Pearl Verses the World had won.  More than that, Pearl was in their new Summer reading guide. I was onto a sure thing.
Into the store I went, sure that my spirits would be revived. Huh. That confidence was soon diminished. No sign of Pearl, or of Snowy. Perhaps, I thought, they’d sold out of Pearl. 
I went to the counter. The owner was there, and although I hesitated to even ask, I did. “I’m just wondering if you have ever stocked my book, Pearl….”
I was cut off. A look of disdain was coupled with the terse reply “We can’t stock every book, you know.” It seemed this lady was accustomed to authors asking after thieir books and had her response prepared.
Shaking in my shoes, I nonetheless  held my ground and stayed polite. ‘I realise that. It’s just that it’s recently won the Indie Children’s Book  Award and –“
Again, I was cut off. “We only stock books we’ve heard of.”
Maybe the lady was having a bad day. Maybe I looked too cocky, or wasn’t dressed like an author, or something. I don’t know. But that response drew me close to tears. Determined not to show it though, I thanked her for her time, and told her that it was handy as an author to know which bookstores to send people to when they asked after my books. Then I left.
I got over that day, but ever since I have hated the thought of telling bookshops that I visit that I am an author. My ego is not high, and to be treated as though I need bringing down a peg or two is pretty damned upsetting.
But the reason I’m telling this story is to share the wonderful experience I had yesterday. I’ve  recently relocated to the South West of Western Australia. Although I have visited local bookstores as a customer, I have hesitated  to introduce myself for fear of rejection. But yesterday was a sunny morning, and I had an hour to spare while I waited for one of my sons. So, when I visited a bookstore to buy a book I wanted, I swallowed my pride and introduced myself to the girl serving me (Jacqui), and asked after my books. I already knew that Pearl Verses the World was in stock – and has been every time I’ve visited – so perhaps this made me a little braver. I asked about Toppling, my newest book.  Not only was Jacqui  very helpful, but the manager overheard our conversation and joined in. He was not only willing to stock the book, but knew of  Toppling’s recent shortlisting in the CBCA Awards, and was really congratulatory. He also offered to ring me when stock came in so that I could come in and sign it.
So, Jarrod and your staff at Angus & Robertson Bunbury, if you happen to be reading this (and even if you’re not) thank you from the bottom of my heart. You warmed my heart, and helped restore some of that confidence lost two years ago.  And to all the other wodnerful bookstores and bookstore staff who have neocuraged me, stcoked my books, or taken the time to chat over the years, thank you. 

What Warms Alison Ashley’s Heart

by


I must confess to not being a winter person. I quite like rain, but can’t stand being cold. And I miss swimming and early morning walks, and late evening walks, and being warm, and… Anyway, it’s been a really cold few weeks in my part of the world, and most of Australia seems to be enjoying (??) the same cold cold weather, so I thought it might be nice to up the temperature a little, by inviting some of my friends to drop by this blog and tell us what warms their hearts.

So, first cab off the rank in this new series of posts is Alison Ashley. Alison just launched her new novel, Phoenix (Congratulations Alison), and has taken time out from celebrating to drop in and share. Welcome Ali! Over to you.

What Warms My Heart
What warms my heart is community spirit. It’s a reflex action, or at least it should be, to help people in times of calamity, but when a community rallies around simply to help an emerging author publicise the launch for her new paranormal book, it truly brings home that feeling of belonging.
             
Phoenix is not only my first novel, but the first in The Fifth Shadow series, so naturally I was a little anxious about how I could attract people to my launch. I realise now how wasted that nervous energy was! Shop keepers and business owners offered to display my posters; the local press jumped at the opportunity to feature an article; neighbours and friends helped with letterbox drops; local radio had no hesitation in plugging it on-air and the library distributed details to all its branches in the municipality.
             
On launch day itself I was thrilled that people arrived early and I eagerly began signing books. By the time the official opening came around and I had chance to take in my surrounds, the venue was already full! That was a really heart warming and very humbling moment to know so many people, and not just those I knew, had come out on a chilly winter’s afternoon just to support me.
Even more heart warming was the glowing praise bestowed upon me by the very talented author, Dee White who officially launched Phoenix for me. I know we shouldn’t be so egotistical but it is a good feeling when others like your work!
Of course, seeing the young boy stop and get off his bike to help an elderly lady who had dropped her purse in the street, was equally heart warming, but overall it’s just nice to know that people genuinely care. 
To find out more about Phoenix or to buy your copy visit www.thefifthshadow.com
Books can also be ordered from bookshops.

To find out more about Alison, visit her at her blog http://alisonashley.wordpress.com

Lovely Alison. Thanks for dropping by and, again, congratulations on your new book-baby. 
I’ll be sharing more heart-warming posts in the coming weeks, so drop back and see what other friends have to say. And if YOU would like to share what warms your heart, let me know.

 

sallymurphy.com.au