2015 Review

2015 - another full-on year!

It's been a busy year, both on and off the keyboard. A lot has been achieved, and as we roll into Christmas, with the house filled with the smell of cooking, and family about to arrive it's time to take some time out to recharge.

In the first few months, and before the ground had fully thawed, I finished Flank Street and handed it over to my editor. Then as the air warmed, and the first leaves unrolled, it was time to plant. I've always loved growing my own food. There's an odd satisfaction in pulling your food from the ground, or plucking it from a tree. A connection to nature that seems lost to much of the developed world. Taking that a step further, I built a coop, populated it with six hens and a rooster, and now we're starting to enjoy fresh eggs most mornings.

There was plenty to keep me occupied throughout the late spring and summer; much of it involved digging large holes in obstinate ground as we constructed a reed-bed bio klar. There was plenty else to keep me occupied too, not only tending the garden, but kitchen renovations, fitting out the larder, and countless other jobs that most days kept me going from dawn to dusk. During that time of intense outdoor work, Flank Street was published.. 

As the days grew short and cold in October, I opened another manuscript, another story set in Sydney, like Heather and Flank Street. It's nearing completion—I think—and I'm aiming at April 2016 for release. I also have a tentative date of next April for the release of the first foreign language versions of Flank Street. It's been an exciting time, and I've met some great people during that ongoing process. So if English is not your first language, and you'd like to be kept informed about releases in your mother tongue, sign up for my newsletter, and look out for special introductory offers next spring.

I hope you've had a great year as well. 

Thank you for stopping by, and have a wonderful Christmas and New Year.

Share this page on social mdeia

Author: A.J.

I have written as far back as I can recall. Until 2011, that writing was just for me, or as rambling letters to friends and travelogues to the family. I never thought about why, or if others did similarly, and the thought of publishing never entered my head. Since I left England in 1979, I have been collecting experiences, people, and places. From the blood-soaked streets of Kampala, the polluted dust bowls of the Sahara, or the pristine ice floes of the Antarctic, I have gathered and filed them away. Some have recently squeezed through the bars of insecurity and are now at large in the pages of my first three novels. Others await their future fates.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.