Kiss the Sky

A rant about change

2012-02-02T11:02:00.002+01:00

This rant was left as a comment on the hub of CJ Stone, http://cjstone.hubpages.com/hub/Stephen-Hester author and journalist. Please go and read this hub – it's so accurate and awesome!

...I totally agree with you, the system is rotten to the core. We have to find a different way to exchange and not hope for (oil sponsored) governments to come up with a solution. There was life before money and we will find a solution as the whole world and intelligent human beings are pondering these issues.

How can we possibly believe in a system that has half the world trying to lose weight while the other half is starving?

Somehow I believe that the solution lies within the individual to take full responsibility for every (trans)action. When every individual realises that it makes all the difference whether they buy or not buy that car and cycle instead. Change will come through passive resistance to a system that is unjust. I've said this before but the 'economic crisis' has a silver lining: maybe the rich western world has to suffer to remember compassion and that wealth not shared with the rest of our human family isn't wealth at all and isn't making us happy.

The key to change would be to demand the right to allocate our income tax, which then automatically will reflect the needs of our Democratic society and take most of the money spent on defence to Education, Healthcare, Infrastructure, the Arts etc. If the whole population of Britain refuses to pay tax until this is granted, we could implement change pretty quickly and those who have their tax money taken automatically would have to go on a collective strike within their companies. To make this long rant short: individual responsibility in combination with power in numbers could change the world with the new tax year. And with the internet we have the tool!

The ultimate power in a capitalist world lies with the consumer anyway so the responsibility is ours already, whether we want it or not.

Product placements in novels?

2012-01-29T08:16:00.001+01:00

This is a comment I made on Mark William's blog . In his very interesting post, he discusses piracy and product placements in novels: he reckons writers will get sponsored in the future and will make a living through sponsor ship. There is also a sponsored article in his post:. Mark finally asked: "Did the sponsored link in the post in any way detract from the quality of the article or the point it was making?"

'Just counted the cultural references in my novel… I’d never, ever want to get paid for mentioning them – it’s a thank you to fellow artists for helping shape my world.

A movie is different, it’s a whole team of people costs loads to produce, maybe. Then again I don’t like Hollywood movies because it is all so predictable and clichéd. Olivia’s article had one discreet placement in it but any more and I would have stopped reading. It does make me wonder about the integrity of the writer…

Personally I think we need to move away from consumerism and art really is the opposite of consumerism – writing is art? – and writers in this time and age can live by their art through quality books not through cheesy placements.

Art is meant to be an expression of the soul to nurture the soul. Then again, there is scope for consumerist art as well: art that makes the reader rush out and buy their heroines hand bag or their heroes hand gun, maybe? Where is the limit, after all?

Oh, one shouldn’t generalise and I’m only speaking for myself, but I just wonder how it would have sounded if Hendrix had been advertising Coca Cola. The day pop music advertises products it’s truly dead. Is literature any different from music?'
What do you think?

How we infiltrated the upper echelons of the London Book Fair

2012-01-19T09:23:00.004+01:00

We had considered self publishing from the very start. Richie has always insisted that the subject matter of this novel was far too controversial for most agencies or publishers and that times had changed. I couldn't agree more. Many of our friends are DJ's or musicians and have been releasing their work since aeons. And yes, the subject matter of this book asked for a different approach, everybody said so.

It all started with the London Book Fair. Curious to find out more about it, we ordered tickets on line and they sent us an email, wondering, whether we were agents, publishers or authors. Apparently they needed the information for our badges.
"Bet you anything they won't want to talk to authors," Richie said immediately, "Why don't we go as agents?"

We called ourselves Summit, as in sum it up from the summit, lol. The badges arrived, promptly, and here we were, secret agents, spies in the house of literature.
Richie wore his Westwood suit and I my cleavage, heels, a pinstripe waistcoat and flared pants.
We looked the biz!
At the fair we sailed effortlessly past security, up the escalator and straight into the VIP area, literally on the top floor of the building. Somehow we had hoped to bump into eccentric literary types, only to find a grey office, a sea of tables dividing the massive space. It could have been an IT office anywhere in the world. Nothing arty, colourful, indicative of great minds determining what we read. No, this was a business environment. I approached the big publishing cats, letter in hand and one even took it.
Now imagine the excitement when I had an email the next day saying:
'Can I see more?'
I promptly sent in the next twenty pages. And waited. And waited a bit longer. After about two months (of checking emails daily, if not hourly. You know how it goes...) I enquired. The reply was:
'Can you send it again?'
I did.
Meanwhile life went on, and I started revising the manuscript and totally forgot about checking my emails every two seconds or so.
Revising took a good nine months.
Now that it was polished, and even more ready to go, I remembered a top agent had the first (unchanged) pages. Why hadn't he come back to me ? Are you ill, Dear Sir?
It was raining that day, but the urge to find out what had happened to the pages was greater than the angst to get wet. I hopped on my bike and squelched into the plush Soho office, in silver wellies, the rainwater dripping onto the white marble floor. I was told to drip dry on the back leather sofa, and about half an hour later I saw the the great man again. He said, embarrassed:
"Sorry, I'm inundated with manuscripts. You write really well, but I couldn't connect with your character."
I remember thinking at that moment: 'Count your blessings. This is not the way to treat the people your livelihood depends on.' Proud and not wanting to sound bitter or dissapointed, I said instead:
"Any idea which agency I should approach?"
He penned down a name in a beautiful handwriting, which almost made me forgive him his shoddiness, but not quite.
"I like your wellies," He said as he gave me the paper.
Wow, I thought, that's great.

I queried to the agency, not mentioning his name, as promised. And guess what? The agency wanted to see the whole manuscript!
Two months later, nothing. I sent an e mail and got the reply that, aided by Snoopy, sent us off on our way to Thailand...
I'm going to move this blog to Word Press soon, please watch this space!

The tyranny of the like button

2011-10-16T09:18:00.011+02:00

Lots of people have been talking about blog fatigue, lately, but what causes it?
This is a comment I made on Anne R. Allen's blog:

Here is an example of how authors and creatives are being put under pressure by numbers. Let's call it the tyranny of the like button:

When the like button came up, I felt nothing but irritation… So now you can superficially like someone's page without even having to have a look at it? Although it may indicate where consumers' tastes lie, what does it really mean for us creatives, writers, musicians, painters…?

It means, we have to spend precious time to make people 'like' our fan page, and drive traffic to Facebook instead of our own site or blog. After all, how can you possibly be any good if you haven't accumulated a few thousand likes by now?

Who are we trying to impress, especially as the like button doesn't mean people have actually seen, let alone read, our content?

I reckon Facebook is on its way to turning itself into the 'perfect marketing tool'. It wants to monetise itself through advertising: You can determine your demographic very precisely. Age group, location, you name it. Facebook knows it all. We've given them all the information already, for free.

Perhaps this is the whole drive behind the like button and nobody seems to realise that we are being used, so Facebook can start making money with selling advertising space to its users. The same users who are not allowed to advertise, or blow their own trumpets on their homepage (for free). People with 5000 followers trying to plug their stuff have been closed down. With that in mind we, creatives and consumers alike, should really not pay too much attention to all the pressures and numbers and remember, that it is all a big distraction from our real work and aspirations… and that can it cause paralysis through analysis of all the different roads you can take in Cyberia.

Meanwhile let's also not forget that Facebook, at any time, can change groups and content. For example, I had loads of videos of readers talking about my book on its Facebook group and when they 'archived' the groups these simply vanished from the site. So yes, let's keep blogging in a relaxed and fun way on sites where we OWN the content. I know this is a whole new can of worms, but I'm convinced that blog fatigues stems from too many options and possibilities...and increased time pressure, maybe?

Readers are an author's best friends

2011-05-07T11:50:00.012+02:00

Here is a picture of Andrew van Duivenbode who ordered

the book online and posted this photo on the WITS group's wall.

Isn't this picture total genius? Thanks Andrew!

Fcuk money - grow food!

2011-04-30T13:27:00.030+02:00

After an intense year of flogging books in Thailand and the bohemian areas of London I was pretty much pooped, barely able to say the word book anymore. What kept me going was my occasional visit to the internet café and on-line conversation with an author I greatly admire: CJ Stone, who ordered Kiss the Sky and posted an in depth review on his hubpage: http://hubpages.com/hub/Woman-in-the-Sky
C.J. Stone (Author of Fierce Dancing)
is a revelational author who should be read by anyone interested in honest, colourful accounts of Britain's underground scene. Fierce Dancing inspired a chapter in Kiss the Sky so I felt flattered when CJ told me to write the next novel or be damned. I'm looking forward to his next book as well. Meanwhile I recommend everyone to follow his hubpages http://hubpages.com/profile/CJStone. with their interesting, varied articles about modern life and beyond, always written with humour and insight. Please check it out!

So the past months were family time. We have started growing food for a money independent lifestyle here in the wild mountains of the Sierra Nevada, Spain. While digging (to be honest I leave that mostly to the lads), planting seeds, flowers and veggies, harvesting oranges and entertaining friends Mediterranean style in the garden, we nearly sold out of the first (bootleg) edition with online sales ticking over all by themselves, book at a time.
Here follow a few pictures of our Spanish life. (the house was built by Richie, I designed it... )

A Camden Character in Edinburgh

2010-08-21T12:54:00.006+02:00

A red faced ticket collector came racing down the aisle and stoppped in front of me:

"Is it true that you are selling a book here on the train?" Without waiting for my reply she continued, "That's against the law!"

I looked at her. The girls who had just bought a copy were sniggering. I smiled and pointed at the non smoking sign overhead,

"It doesn't say anywhere that you can't sell books."

Giggles all around.

"We had a complaint and if I catch you doing this again I will have you arrested by the police."

I was minding my own business, sitting on the green grass in the meadows of Edinburgh, scoffing blueberries when a bloke came and sat down next to me:

"Hey, are you from Camden?"

"What makes you think that?" I asked perplexed

"You just look like a Camden character." He said, pointing at my summer Trilby and Nellie Beetle top.

Nellie Beetle designs brightly coloured dresses and sells them on Portobello Market. Well, maybe he just tuned into me longing for smelly old London...

After three days of fresh air, vistas of rolling hills, ancient monuments and buses unloading respectable, grey haired members of our society, I was feeling kind of homesick....

I'm staying with Sharon, yes, it's her: the same Sharon who bought the first book in Thailand. She also gave me a new Moleskine notebook to kickstart the sequel (how cool is that?) and took me to a fantastic gig at which Mr.B rocked the house playing "Move any Mountain" on the Banjo.
I do enjoy that about writing: readers who love your book become friends!

Once inside the theaters the festival is truly amazing. Outside it feels more like a middle-aged tourist convention. Actors are flyering their shows on every corner, so I wasn't half as special plugging the book in the street... I mostly hung out at the C Venue in the Urban Garden selling the book to students and actors and giving them much needed 'bohemian discounts'...

Camden is cool

2010-08-06T21:46:00.005+02:00

I sold 413 books in 4 weeks and solved the back aches too: squidgy flipflops and a trolley made of recycled olive packaging as a bookshop on the move. .. Many stall holders in Camden are reading the book now and it's so easy to sell it there because most people are the age of the protagonists, in their early twenties basically. Doing regular open mics at the Inspiral Lounge helps too. I love that place and getting yummy organic food in exchange for a reading makes me feel like a real writer!
Funny, everywhere I go on Portobello Road, Brick Lane or Camden Market people come up to me and say; ""Hey, I'm reading your book!"

More news from the Eastern front

2010-07-01T09:44:00.015+02:00

In Spitalfields Market the security came up to me and told me that it's privately owned and therefore book promotion 'ain't allowed'. It had to happen sooner or later. I can't quite believe what I'm getting away with - outlaw guerilla street vending! So I went to Grimsby Street which has changed beyond recognition since the nineties. Once upon a time the buildings looked as if ready to collapse. They were inhabited by scruffy immigrants and the odd, even scruffier artist. Now the street is tidy, clean brickwork all around, security gates in place. Bricklane is still very Indian, but there are also fashion emporiums, trendy shops and arty students, shop windows doubling as mirrors in passing. Sales were good and I am planning to trek eastwards again. My back is killing me from carrying heavy books on hard concrete!

Pimping it on Portobello

2010-07-01T09:42:00.007+02:00

After having sold a thousand copies in person I needed a little
breather and anyway we're not on-line in Spain. Funny enough I didn't
miss being glued to a screen one bit. The dimension called life took
over for a full three months. So much happened and if this wasn't a
blog about the book promotion...
Now I'm in London, on my own, and so grateful for the Thai experience:
having practiced selling and the fantastic feedback that keeps coming
in really gives me the confidence needed to pimp the book on
Portobello.

Portobello Road is great, I love it . Everywhere you go
you bump into musicians, artists, writers, (fashion)designers and the
brilliant people that give this area such a buzz. It is totally
unpretentious and there is the odd half naked nutter (it's summer
after all!) to make it real. I walk up to people in cafes and
restaurants when they're smiling or staring into the distance. (I
never interrupt people who are in a conversation.) On different days
I've gatecrashed a literary agency, recording studios, posh shops and
in a brave moment even the empire of a famous fashion designer (no I
won't drop names). Came home and realised I had some cherry stuck on a
tooth. How embarrassing. Teaches me to look in a mirror, once in a
while, when into PR. Oh well.
The book is flying out of my hands and I've been offered a launch
party and spaces to hang the posters. It's mind boggling the
opportunities London offers.
Watch this space!

The island is a distant dream already

2010-07-01T09:41:00.009+02:00

I vaguely remember early mornings afloat in a womb-like sea, tiny fish
nibbling at our feet. The kids squeaking with delight at such wonders.
Sand so fine my feet were soft like a baby's after walking the beaches
peddling the book. The evening spent in a restaurant under the stars
after a hard days work  of being frazzled by a burning sun. What a
luxury that was...The best thing was meeting Sharon who lives on the
island and bought the first book. We've been friends ever since. I
always think : make one new friend a year (no I'm not talking about FB
here)  and by the end of your life you're rich indeed.
 
Like everywhere else in the world Koh Phangan has its problems too.
(I've covered some in earlier posts) and the economic crisis has
shortened the island's high season: starting after Christmas it
fizzles out mid Febuary and it's only really busy around full moon.
That is probably a good thing from an environmental point of view,
there simply wouldn't have been enough water had all the beds on the
island been occupied.
There are however large walls of free books in every resort and many
bookshops on the island which stock the latest bestsellers at the same
price as in Europe...and yet it was so easy to sell the book, even if
we had to sometimes look for customers:
"Is that really you?" they'd point at ´D.C.Gallin´

"What's your name?" was the second question.
Initials don't really work face to face, obviously. Sometimes people said :
"The cover reminds me of Sex in the City."
Then I'd point at the smiley face belly piercing on the cover:
"You mean Sex on Acid in the City!"
This is how I got Karen Durran's feedback on Facebook:
"i love this book really...by the time i got to page 30 I jumped on my
boyfriend. That happened a few times, ha! He said thank you - I dont
know if i can say that but i did. Thanks so much for a great read xxx"
      At some point we counted nine people reading Kiss the Sky on the short
stretch of beach that is Haad Tien. What a buzz that woz!
 
Raph created the Facebook group. Then Richie started
taking pictures of people once they bought the book. The ideas for the
promotion developed over time, all in preparation for London. It's
good we jumped in at the deep end! By the time we unpacked box number
17 (60 books to a box) we were chuffed: we had managed to sell the
first 1000 copies even while spending high season January in and out
of hospital in Bangkok - many thanks to the local bookshops on Koh
Phangan and on  diver's paradise Koh Tao.
We have shown that there is a mainstream global market for this book
and that it can be enjoyed by people of all walks of life and
generations!
So what was our learning roller coaster rolling coast to coast on Koh
Phangan? Just do it!

Selling your first novel on a tropical beach is not the worst job in the world

2010-02-13T03:57:00.002+01:00

Koh Phangan is only busy around full moon and all the beaches are spread out, but when there are enough people we're selling up a storm at about 12 books an hour. The heat is probably the most limiting factor, especially as I can't go swimming yet: I still have a metal pin in my left middle finger, which gives me a permanently rude hand and makes signing a bit awkward.

This is how we do it: We arrive on the beach. I have three copies in my baba bag. Richie carries the rest in a backpack. A baba bag is the small hand bag of an Indian Sadhu (holy man). Clad in only a loincloth he renounces all material ties and all he carries is a chillum (cone shaped, ceramic pipe for the burning of the weed) in this colourful bag. Sometimes he has a drum as well to remind people of their duty to give baksheesh...

Because of the accident I had to cover up to prevent scarring. Now that I can wear a bikini again, I'm a lot cooler and Richie and I have turned a nutty brown within days. It has to be said that a bikini helps when selling to the opposite gender...surprise, surprise. So here we are, on the beach the holy author (substance free, oh goody goody!) holding onto her baba bag, fearless with her strong husband by her side. I scan the beach carefully. It's important to get it right first time, that sets the tone. If the first people say yes, the others follow... It's very intuitive. I look for auras of relaxed intelligence, signs like good books on colourful sarongs and walk up to them:

"Excuse me, where are you from?"

Then I find out if they read in English (if that isn't obvious from the start):

"Would you like to read a really good book?" Not many people say no to that. Selling is all about getting yes after yes after yes! Then I tell them about the book and that I have written it. People love that and normally want to see it by then. I guess meeting an author on a tropical beach is a bit like going back stage at a rock concert. It doesn't happen every day. Next question is if they would like a collectable, 'autographed' first edition and by then most people are hooked...

Selling your first novel on a tropical beach is not the worst job in the world especially when you meet people like Caroline, Lina and Catrina from Sweden who all insisted on buying their own copy! Or Will from the UK who was so amazed by our guerilla marketing technique that he just stammered:

"What you're travelling the world selling your own book? You're living my dream!"

A big thank you to all you independent minds from all over the globe. For the first time ever we're supporting our family of six through ART alone. No more organic food deliveries, for now!

Mama Pooh’s and the knicker nickers

2010-01-24T15:04:00.014+01:00

So the bank manager had sold us the wrong insurance policy? Then the weirdest thing happened! I woke up in the middle of the night, remembering her name. The next day we managed to contact her and she was distraught to hear that she hadn’t sold us six months coverage at all. After countless phone calls the insurance company decided to cover us retrospectively.

That more or less cleaned out our bank account, but who cares when you have boxes and boxes of a bestselling, hot novel stacked up in your kitchen?

This is basically how we developed our guerrilla selling technique: Out of pure necessity!

So we went to Bangkok with Narayan and Adam, stayed in plush Bangkok Hospital, yes the one of the advertisement strategically placed at the exact spot of our accident (see picture), and rested, and then rested a bit more. Weird, but good. At home Raph ran the show, and it was great to know Misha was there as well. She took Evita, Sol and Daisy out for dinner and managed some home ed with only Daisy and Sol as pupils. We’ve all decided to be goodie goodies this year and not to inhale for a while...

When we got back everyone was so happy to see us! Misha and I even made an appointment to have a tete a tete the next evening, something we haven’t managed to do yet.

The following day we resumed our hard routine: Back to Mama Pooh’s, our local restaurant in Srithanu, where you can 'drop in their European style toilet every time, for free!' On our way we also dropped off a big bag of washing at Lai’s, our lovely laundry lady whose launderette turns into a pole dancing establishment at night. The washing machine is literally used to hop onto the pole. A picture of her in full regalia to follow, promised! As a mother of four it’s fantastic to be able to drop your monster bag of washing off, just like that. The only problem we encounter is that some of our best clothes have vanished off her washing line as for once Raph and I are the same built as all the Thai girlies: this really cool ‘voodoo doll’ label bikini vanished mysteriously, anything shiny or lacy disappears... There is definitely a knicker nicker about: Before we left for Bangkok I didn’t have a single pair left. It’s bad enough living with a teenage daughter; ownership of clothes is an illusion, a thing of the past. Lingerie tends to disappear out of your drawer before you get a chance to wink at your husband in it. I’ve kind of given up on that idea for now and handwash boring Mark’s and Spencer’s bikini briefs, freshly acquired on our Bangkok break, after which I hide them in unusual places, like behind the books or under the mattress...knicker nickers are everywhere!

How to somersault a sidecar

2010-01-24T09:17:00.022+01:00

How to somersault a sidecar

“Let’s go to the Shiva moon party! It’s supposed to be really good!” I said to Richie, who was freshly showered, stretched out in bed.

I looked out of the window. Shiva Moon is supposed to be a crescent moon. This was more a fat blob in the sky just before half moon. Deep down I had my first misgivings, just a twinge, but the old party animal roared much louder.

“C’mon we’ve worked all week, let’s have some fun before we’re old and grey.”

“Mmmmmh…” Richie sounded unconvinced, “we’re selling so well at the moment. Should we really lose a night’s sleep?”

“We don’t lose a night, just skip it. Remember we had our best morning the night after the party at Guy’s bar. We can’t always just watch other people having fun. I’ll make us coffee!”

I thundered down the wooden stairs. Coffee is a hard drug in our clean-living, hard-working beach life. Especially when consumed at the witching hour. Richie, who can always be talked into having fun, jumped into his new party outfit : lightweight shorts with fluoro edging and matching Hoffman t-shirt. I donned my vintage fractal leggings and off we went...

The party was in the jungle. At the gate we bumped into Michael who bought the book at the night market.

“We’re off to Mushroom Mountain. Back in a sec,” he smiled, “it’s only warming up in there!”

The music didn’t sound all that great. For a moment we dithered.

“We’re here now,” Richie shrugged. “On coffee.”

We paid for our wristbands and entered the dark jungle. No birdies tweeting at this hour, no humming insects, only the thump thump thump of the sound system, the musky smell of the tropical jungle, soft earth under our feet, the shape of a girl lying on the ground. I walked over to her and recognised Sabine, another reader. Sitting next to her was her friend Nadine.

“What happened?”

She yawned,

“We bought some ecstasy, but I’m sooo tired now.”

“It must have been valium,” I said and pulled her up. “You’ve gotta dance it off.”

We arrived at the party: The system sounded muffled, the dance floor was dark and populated by mostly male dancers, a heavy, valium induced vibe, not our scene at all. Then we bumped into Pat and Amanda.

It sucks in here,” she said, “let’s go to Haadrin.”

We left. Outside the cabs were waiting.

“Haadrin? Hundred Baht !” They shouted.

“It’s only a couple of miles down the road,” someone said, “I’m fed up with getting ripped off all the time!”

The cab fares on this island can compete with London, which is why most tourists get about on bikes. Loads of tourists sport a bandage or two and the lost skin is called a ‘Koh Phangan Tattoo’. A Koh Phangan motorcycle accident Facebook group would be popular. And then I had the worst idea of my life:

“We’ll take you in the sidecar, but you’ll have to walk up the steep bits.”

To be fair, these sidecars can be seen driving around with up to eight people. Misha didn’t want to rent a vehicle and therefore we were used to ferrying eight people around all the time. The Haadrin Hills are another dimension though.

“I trust you guys, you have kids!” Pat said and we all got in.

Sabine was loving it and singing loudly, over her Valium stupor.

“I love your necklace,” she pointed at the glow in the dark beads.

She had said it so many times so I took it off.

“Have it! It’s been to many parties all over the globe.”

“Off you get!” Richie said, “now you have to find a cab!”

We started walking. Up and up and up to the highest point. Cabs drove past, all in the wrong direction.

So we all got back in and this where we misjudged the whole thing. Richie was carefully rolling down the hill, when he had to brake and before we knew the whole three wheeler tipped forward and then somersaulted through the air. We found ourselves splattered on the floor all over the side of the road. Blood was running in between my boobs but I felt weirdly calm, detached as if watching a movie. Richie was very pale but seemed more or less unscathed, so were Pat and Nadine. Amanda was whimpering bent over in the concrete drainage gutter holding her head, while Sabine was howling loudly, her back tattooed all over. I was worried about Amanda who was barely conscious. A cab drove past, but didn’t stop. Another cab came by. From the corner of my eye I saw a big bill board advertising “Bangkok Hospital.” The ambulance, (which apparently waits around the curve) came and we were loaded in. I had a last glimpse of the sidecar turned upside down over the gutter.

“Why isn’t there a reliable and affordable bus service on this island?” I asked the doctor as she was stitching up my forehead, hours later.

“Then the cab drivers wouldn’t make any profit,” she said.

I forgot to mention that the cabdrivers are ruthless, often drunk or on amphetamines, up all night, chasing around the island looking for customers, desperate to pay off their micro loans.

Our initial, communal hospital bill came to about 45000 Baht, a grand total of 900 pounds. Sabine was to spend a couple of weeks on sista morphine in Koh Samui Hospital and our first hospital stay in Bangkok was going to cost 7000 dollars.

What did we learn that night: the law of acceleration versus weight distribution on adult tricycles and that we wouldn’t really want our kids holidaying and partying on Koh Phangan. And that it could have been much worse. It was my stupid idea and karma works: I was by far the most injured! A torn ligament , a hematoma and stitches around my eye, a massive Koh Phangan tattoo still healing on my arm. I could post a picture of my face after the accident but I think it would scare off all blog followers forever. Back at home Raph took one look at me and said, very grown-up and without ‘told you so’ in her voice,

“See, I knew I didn’t want to get into the sidecar!”

We called our insurance with Abbey. I had taken out full medical coverage for six months in the office of the bank manager at our Portobello Branch. The insurance people said they’d call back.

We took to our bed and didn’t hear from them again. Raph was making us cups of tea and bringing us food while Misha organised tasks for the kids. There was some minor drama because someone had taken a couple of slices of ham out of her fridge. We were lying in our beds wishing we could worry about stuff like that, not that we count slices and especially not ham. The second day, we hadn’t seen her since the accident,

Misha came into our room:

“We have to do something about the head lice!” She said, arms crossed, standing in the doorway of our bedroom.

Every time Adam plays with Thai kids he gets the head lice back and more than once Raph had been lovingly lice combing and oiling Misha’s and Daisy’s hair. Raph and Narayan have been amazing in every way. They took over from us, looking after and feeding all the smaller ones. You can really count on our beautiful teenagers when in trouble!

“What do you want us to do about it right now?” I shouted, finally losing my rag with Michelle.

When will I learn to keep my upper lip stiff?

Five days later we called the insurance again. I needed to get my middle finger ligament restructured and the doctor said it had to be done within a couple of weeks.

“Sorry, you’re not insured. Your policy ran out after 31 days.”

Beeb. The phone cut off.

Guerilla marketing techniques

2010-01-16T06:05:00.014+01:00

Here follows a complaint by e-mail from Ermine Poort, faithful blog follower from the very start:
"Please don't stop writing about your life and family, it's such a fun read!"
Thanks Ermine! I guess I was a tad lazy or maybe it’s just that non-fiction doesn’t come to me as naturally as embellishing the truth and fantasizing: “Don’t always exaggerate everything all the time!” I’ve been told all my life and so tried to turn a vice into a virtue (?) by writing fiction… Or maybe I just like playing God? Because that is what fiction is all about and let’s face it: Who doesn’t want to be the omnipotent creator of all things real and unreal?… Or maybe I’m just terribly embarrassed about the whole thing and therefore mentioned only in (very quick) passing that we had another bike crash, glossed over it in fact, because it was one of those lunatic ideas of mine that caused the crash and we’re still dealing with consequences of it two weeks down the line. We had to fly to Bangkok for minor operations and I’m writing from a, for NHS standards, luxurious hospital bed. On the upside (there always is one) we’ve developed a ‘sell-as-you-travel guerilla marketing technique’ on the way to the hospital, which means I’m selling books everywhere we go and to everyone we meet:
On the boat, bus, at the airport, on the plane, in the street, the hospital, to the plastic surgeon who stiched my forehead up, to people in the hospital waiting room, in the shopping mall and up-market bookstores!

The accident however was horrific. Bad stuff happens and in a writer’s life that generally means more material for a good story (another silver lining so to speak). In the next post you'll find out how it all came about...

I'm getting carried away

2010-01-02T10:41:00.009+01:00

Reading the last few entries I am realising that I was getting carried away: I could tell you now that we didn't move to Chaloklum because it turned out that the owner was ripping asbestos out of the roof and smashing it up all over the house. That was after after we painted the whole place white. Asbestos is in almost all the houses here, imported from Canada, apparently. I could talk about so many things, like how it is hard to avoid MSG when you eat out here. I could tell you that we had another bike accident, going up to Haadrin, no kids involved! We also moved house and the children want to do snorkeling for home education in our remaining time on the island as the home education with Misha isn't working out at all. She is a full time single mum and after her boring job the last thing she wants to deal with is five squabbling kids, four of which not even hers. She is having a well deserved holiday surfing the net and is studying vampires with a fierce passion together with 87 million other (teenage) girls....Thai stick and home ed aren't a great combination either. A bit to relax, to take the edge of maybe, but there is a fine line, easily stepped over and I'm talking from experience, dear reader. (Here I wanted to post a picture of Misha, but I'm not allowed.)There is plenty of material for another book and maybe one day I'll use it all in fiction. Raph definitely doesn't want her naughty teenage escapades all over the net...She asked me to take down the entry of her and Ras escaping to Haadrin the night of the open mic. And I did. Aren't I nice?
And anyway we're here to sell the first book.
Richie and I have mapped out the island and work our way down the West Coast. We do Haadrin and then go to Haad Juan and Haad Tien where we meet some of the best people.
The island has an ebb and flow of tourists. They come for the parties and leave after a couple of nights. Full moon is the busiest and season has only started now.
We do it in a relaxed way, sometimes we even take pictures of smiley customers. It's a kind of tribal selling technique.

We will live like kings and queens

2009-12-25T16:06:00.011+01:00

We had promised the kids that we we'd stay in a really nice hotel upon arrival;
"We will live like kings and queens," I said, "just wait and see!"
Unfortunately the Regency Hotel, object of our desire, was fully booked. So were all the other hotels in Hat Yai.
We searched and searched in the scorching heat but to no avail. The whole town was in a festive mood for Eid.
"You always do that, you always get their hopes up," Richie said, sounding annoyed, when we finally found a vacancies in a delapidated guesthouse that had never known any glory whatsoever, not even in the distant past.
The door of the room opened with a squeak and Raph almost had a fit!
"You always do that," she said in almost perfect imitation of her dad, "you always, always do that and now this!"
Picture flakey paintwork of undefinable colour, missing floor tiles, a ceiling fan on its very last wings, worn out, almost transparent towels and dripping taps, the lot. Anyone who has ever backpacked in South East Asia will recognise it immediately. Luckily the beds looked spotless, white isles in an ocean of decay.
"Just chill," I said, sweat running down my back, refusing to feel guilty, "at least we can have a shower and Misha and Daisy will be at the station any minute now."
The family showered. Raph had her usual session in the mottled mirror and everybody felt refreshed and happier once more.
We hadn't seen Misha for twelve years.
I must admit that I had watery eyes when I saw her standing on the platform surrounded by monolithic suitcases of in pink and black. Misha has only ever known half our brood, (her daughter Daisy is eight years old) and yet it seemed as if we picked up the thread of our friendship as if it had been twelve weeks instead of years.
At first Daisy, overwhelmed by the noise our boys were producing, hid behind her Mummy, but one look at Raph's gold hoops, kohl rimmed eyes, shiny long hair and she said:
"I think you should be a princess!"
Raph beamed and cast me a look which seemed to say: SEE?
p.s.
I will catch up asap. So much has happened since and our internet connection has been shaky!

The parlour of sin

2009-12-25T15:02:00.018+01:00

"We're moving to Chaloklom," I said to T as he was opening the green door to Jumunjy, a bar and chill out zone built to look like an urban jungle hut. Jumunjy is also Thong Sala's main danceteria. T runs Jumunjy with his brother Roo and that's where we partied at Halloween, mingling with people on the cave-like dance floor who were wearing dead sting rays around their necks or were dressed-up as (used) sanitary pads. Just a couple of memorable costumes I can think of...

"We used to live in Chaloklum. Whereabouts?"

"Opposite Cafe della Mocha. It's an old, wooden Thai house."

"White wooden doors?"

I nodded happily.

"That used to be the old brothel," T said, "mind you in those days nice every house on that street was one."

Better not tell the kids! To me the space was still beautiful, even if once upon a time it had been a parlour of Sin!

Meanwhile we prepared ourselves for the visa run. Every two months foreigners have to leave the country and get a stamp in their passport. Travel agencies organise these border trips and make them as comfortable as possible but we decided to go local and catch a night train to the border. On the boat to Surat Thani I met Bobby. She bought a book. At the train station I sold Kiss the Sky to a couple from Norway who looked like they needed some entertainment!

Richie had a seat next to Adam, the rest of us had to go solo. The doors were open and windows were rattling, a cold current of air sweeping through the compartment. We were snug enough in our hoodies but the ceiling lights were glaring down on us. All around the Thais were hiding under oversized towels. Live and learn, I thought as I passed the human tents in in pink, purple, blue or green.

Luckily my neighbour left at the first stop, so I curled up on both seats and slept for the entire four hour journey. Plonk me down anywhere you want, on cardboard at airports, even cold cement floors, squeezed into half a car seat, I'll sleep, the natural tramp.

Upon arrival in Hat Yai the travel agent took one look at our bleary eyed children and said, a calculating glint in his eyes:

"Two thousand Baht."

That was twice the amount recommended in the not so lonely planet guide and he wouldn't budge a Baht. In the end a tuk tuk driver agreed to do it for a thousand. Fine monsoon mists were spraying us in the partly open carriage. People were waving from their motorbikes at the kids.

"Why do we always have to go for the not so comfortable option?" Raph asked.

I explained our strategy.

"If we always go for the easy option I won't have anything to write about on the blog."

Richie had a look at the guide,

"And we can put the money we save now towards a really nice hotel!" He said.

We've been mega busy selling books

2009-12-25T14:58:00.012+01:00

Internet access has been erratic and slow and we've been mega busy selling books! An update: So far we have sold Woman in the Sky to people from: Canada, Australia, Italy, France, Spain, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, Wales, Ireland, England, Scotland, New Zealand, Germany, U.S.A., (inc. Hawaii!), Romania, Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, Finland, Norway, Turkey, Brazil, Slovakia, Poland, South Africa, Israel, Czech Republic, Argentina, Malaysia, Greece, Thailand, Ukraine, Russia, Hungary, Algeria, Iran, Serbia, Morrocco, Taiwan, Hungary and Iceland = 43 countries so far! (total of nationalities updated 23/1/10)
Talking about national boundaries: we also went to Malaysia to renew our visa. On our return we planned to move into that huge house in Chalokolum! But nothing happened as planned..

below you can see Kiss the Sky blending into Adam Caines from Australia's hammock. This is what he sent us over email:

Denise, I have had such a great experience reading your book.

From the moment I started reading I found it hard to put down, and when I did I found it hard to stop thinking about.

I told my sister about all about your book and gave it to her to read when I left Sydney a week ago.

She agrees that you have an amazing writing ability. Your creative way with words and description seems to project an image or a cinematic vision in your mind to no only

read the book but see it a a movie at the same time.

It takes alot to get me interested enough to read a book to the end, as most writers styles are very mainstream. So, it takes clever kind of writer to keep my attention for that long.

What i enjoyed the most about "Kiss the Sky" was that the story was real enough to believe it actually happened to someone and real enough to beleive that your right there with her.

Congratulations on your brilliant accomplishment and you should be very proud of it yourself.

I wish you all the very best for your future publications.

Kind regards,

Adam Caines

First facebook feedback by Amy Tatum

2009-11-23T03:00:00.004+01:00

Remove

Amy Tatum I've been transported back to a time in my life I remember fondly; I'm really enjoying the book & I'm happy to be able to say that...when I'm working the festis next summer I would happily sell some for you if you fancied (without taking a cut d'accord)...

Remove

Amy Tatum The wildest of all willies...hahahaha...genius line

Hell of a hill

2009-11-22T06:48:00.003+01:00

"I hope you come off your bike!" Raph shouted after us.
Fed up with being screamed at I had confiscated iPod. We left on a bad note.
"Road to Haad Tien no good," the friendly man at the rental shop said pointing at the sky, where clouds were gathering, "maybe raining."
We're used to hardcore Spanish mountain caminos and ignored the local's warning.
Mistake number two.

Richie, in hot pants-cum swimming shorts mounted this steed of a bike, a Kawasaki 250, and I hopped on the back, in jeans for once. Helmets on, it felt like we were on a racehorse, our faithful three wheeler donkey tethered outside the rental shop. Two and a half times the engine capacity really feels different and we were gunning up steep hills with drops on either side of a barely there path, criss-crossed by deep muddy gullies.

What were we thinking?

Tires clogged up with sticky mud and no traction whatsoever, we were about halfway up a particularly big hill when the bike slowed then stopped and we rolled backwards falling over on the lucky side of the track. I got up more or less undamaged, but Richie's leg was covered in mud and blood.

"Oh it's nothing," he said in manly fashion, brushed off the dirt and made an attempt to raise the bike.

"Where are our backpacks?" I asked pointing at the empty rack. They were nowhere to be seen.

Oops.

I trailed down the hill in the midday heat and retrieved the heavy bags, five curves down below, nearly at the beginning of the highway to hell.

Somehow we made it up to Haad Tien with me getting off at the steep bits, carrying the heavy bags. Alita is leaving for Canada and we were determined to see her and take part in the open mike sessions on thursday nights at the Sanctuary. Upon arrival Alita and I went to the shop and bought a first aid kit for Richie's wounds.
"Look," she said while bandaging him up, "here we are playing nurse!"
I think she quite enjoyed it!
"I want to go home," I said, a nagging feeling somewhere deep down, but Alita pointed out that it was getting dark...

In the evening I did my first public reading.
"What would you like to hear about?" I asked the audience, "Sex, drugs or dance music?" Well, it's easy to guess what the answer was...I thought it would be scary, but I actually enjoyed reading to an audience and Richie, who was holding the torch above the book, censored the bit I had chosen in just the right moment. The audience wanted an encore and so I read the bit about ecstasy and shrunken willies. The blokes laughed loudly, probably relieved they weren't the only ones who had had that experience...
Back to the kiddies! I got in a cab and Richie followed on the bike. I was so relieved when he arrived unscathed.

Below you can see the view from our hut, perched high above the waves.

Home education: practical skills, new interests and an open mind...

2009-11-17T07:09:00.003+01:00

Home education is going well: Right now Adam (5) is playing chess against the computer, Sol (10) strumming on his guitar. Raph (15) has just returned from Yoga. She is talking about doing a Thai massage course in the afternoons and wants to learn how to mix music.
In the kitchen Narayan (13) is discussing Muay Thai ceremonies with his dad; "I'm enjoying Muai Thai, even though it's really hard work," He flexes an arm muscle, (he does that a lot at the moment) "I want to do four hours a day instead of two."

The more academic work will be done with Misha. Misha and Daisy (8) are due in less than two weeks, hurray! We really need her. Sometimes I wish the kids would be in school so we can all get a break from each other, but right now that is not an option and all we can do is make sure they come out of this adventure with practical skills, new interests and most importantly an open mind.

On another important topic, Thai cuisine is tasty but full of MSG and sugar, even the salads. But the tropical fruit is delicious and there are many greens to be had, more than one finds on our supermarket shelves and with much more flavour...

Benjamin Tolmie November 16 at 6:11pm

Hi Denise!
Great to hear from you! I am still actually reading your awesome book!
And i am really enjoying it! :-D
It has been really strking a great chord with me in a number of ways and made me think of some of the fun and crazy times in my own life!
:-)
Thankyou!
I am back in Melbourne now and back at work (i am a graphic designer) and i had an absoultly awesome time in thailand! It was really a pleasure meeting you and getting to read your book!
:-)
I hope your travels continue to go great!!!
BIG SMILES FROM ME!
:-D
Ben

"Kiss the Sky cries out for a sequel"

2009-11-16T04:38:00.003+01:00

"Kiss the Sky" transported me back fifteen years to Space Club, Cologne. KTS is about the art, rave and music scene active in London about the same time. The way the book is written, it instantly drags you into the urban 90's party marathon feeling which was determined by the rate of social welfare, the quality of the drugs and DJs and last but not least by the individual freedom to express yourself. Congratulations, DC Gallin! Each single character in your book is thoughtfully created, so real(!!!) and individual. I swallowed the first 158 pages in one go and I remember my kids moaning about my low attention that evening but, hey: I was just home-tripping through my party and music producing time forced by Claudia, Paloma and Q falling deeper and deeper into it.
If this novel hasn't been picked up by a mainstream publisher within the next year you would say that publishers are ignoring what is probably the most subtle and colourful story about the 90's generation: The new hippie dance culture and party scene aiming for the same goals as their 60's originators: love, peace and freedom! Good luck with your Koh Phangan promotion trip, Denise! I am quite sure "Kiss the Sky" will be absorbed by as many nationalities here on the island as possible and potentially bring up wonderful memories.
This book is not just only "highly recommendable" but highly addictive and makes you really want to know how Claudia's story will continue. Even if this story is complete for one book, it typically cries out for a sequel! Michael Niessen (Germany)

Kiss the Sky gives you the feeling of not being alone in the universe if you hit your 20's in the 90's

2009-11-16T02:37:00.001+01:00

We're collecting feedback as we go...
Kiss the Sky has been reviewed by Herbie @ Jumunjy, Koh Phangan's party posse with a capital P!

"A you and me search for the meaning of life, repeatedly interrupted by the formerly mentioned. The characters are scarily honest, full of charms and human flaws. It gives you the feeling of not being alone in the universe if you hit your 20's in the 90's."

Jumunjy are also going to host a bookwarming party after the New Year, check it all out on: http://databass.asia/jumunjy/index.php.
Thank you for the warm welcome! We feel as much at home here as on Portobello, another meeting point of friendly freaks! It will be hard for us to leave this beautiful island...if not impossible!

Lorena Wright Thought the book rocked and kicked arse all in one...I've got a lot of good to say about it. I read it in 2 days, its a lovely read, full of humor and humility... LOVED IT!! Nice work D xxx

Our heartfelt apologies of life, repeatedly interupted by the former mentioned. Scarily honest, full of charm and human flaws. It gives you the feeling of not being alone in the universe if hit your 20's

Kiss the Sky captures the ethos of the nineties...freedom!

2009-11-13T01:58:00.001+01:00

The kids can't come with us when we go to Haad Rin. The roads there real roller coasters and our little 100cc bike+sidecar only makes it up the biggest hill if I get out just before we reach the top. It's dodgy business jumping out of a moving vehicle in flip flops. The first time we started rolling backwards and the other day we nearly got crushed by a ten tonne truck trundling back down the hill towards us. However, the views (see photo below) on these roads are so spectacular that a little release of adrenaline only adds to the exhilarating experience.

We met Jane Heine at the very beginning of our trip: Jane emerged from her little flat, the former money exchange in the heart of Haad Rin as we were crawling under the rental jeep in search of the key. It had mysteriously vanished out of Richie's pocket and he left on a rental bike to get the spare key in Thong Sala. Jane has lived in Haad Rin for over 23 years and while waiting for Richie's return I was sitting with her on her balcony, where she told me anecdotes about her life here:
"He was 17 and naked most of the time. I was 43, a bit older but as naked." She chuckled, "I was thrilled to the core, so to speak. My ego was erected and so was he. Fair trade. I was introduced to infidelity in the bioluminescence in the sea at Haad Rin and found it filled with promise while I was filled with lust in the tropics..."
We've been seeing Jane, who is writing her memoirs as we speak, (something to look forward to!) more or less every day since and it seemed a good idea to stash some books with her: a small difference in weight makes a big difference in managing those hills!

Anyway, with Raph and Narayan as babysitters - our teenagers are extremely trustworthy and responsible when in charge of bossing the little ones around - we left the house on Tuesday afternoon. We picked up a heavy box of books from Jane's and under the setting sun got on a longtail boat to the next bay.

We were on a mission: For some reason our bank cards had stopped working and our rent (12,000 Baht) was due the next day.

"The universe is telling us something here ," I said philosophically as we booked ourselves into a honeymoon suite aka bamboo hut with the sea breeze for AC at Barcelona Bungalows, Haad Yuan.
"Yeah, we have to sell thirty books." Richie said and pulled me towards him.
You could say we took advantage of the momentarily kiddie-free zone...
We met lots of people that night. Amongst them Josh Stanley and Rochelle (see pic) with his entourage of beautiful girls. He is the biggest producer of medicinal ganja in the states and he bought not one, but two copies of the book.
"It's a privilege to buy a book straight from the author," he said and invited us all for a round of happy shakes.

This seemed to be the general attitude of all our customers and we actually got our rent money together! A bit of pressure ain't bad...Lorena Wright had heard about the book already and Kaya Biber pointed out his office in one of the buildings on the cover. On our way out we met Alita Rickerds, reporter at Taipei Times who had just read Kiss the Sky and she gave us some feedback...check it out by clicking on the video link below.
The people we meet are amazing and our children are such a fantastic team too! We came home exhausted but happy. They had just eaten a big salad(!) and pasta and were all in their pj's, bathed and content and the house was tidy too!
Life is a beach, thank you all!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmTApafG7Oo

Raph didn't come home last night...

2009-11-07T02:27:00.002+01:00

Raph went off on the motorbike with her friend Ras aka Rassanova. They promised to be back at 11.30pm. It's 8.16 in the morning and they haven't come home. Serves us right for being 'cool' parents and taking her out last weekend. I do hope nothing happened: yesterday I met a local girl who had come off her bike. She was a total mess. You see a lot of people here hobbling about on crutches, bandaged up to the max.
What do we do? Ground her indefinitely? I hardly slept last night. Sometimes living with teenagers isn't much fun!

Even better news:
16.00 Raph came home in one piece but isn't allowed out anymore (without us.) Anyone who thinks we're just on holiday...with four kids out of which two teenagers you're never, ever on holiday. Not even in your sleep... I was dreaming really stressful dreams last night although deep down I knew she was alright. This has happened before in London and Spain, but Thailand is really not a safe place to experiment with boundaries. If necessary we buy a lead and chain her to the front porch. Watch us being really tough!

It's a small world...

2009-11-06T14:07:00.001+01:00

So far we've sold Kiss the Sky to people from the following countries:
Canada, Australia, Italy, France, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, Wales, Ireland, England, Scotland, New Zealand, Germany, U.S.A., Romania, Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, Finland, Norway, Turkey, Brazil, Slovakia, Hawaii (I know it's not a country, but still...) = 23 countries!
Right now we're laminating posters and setting a date for the Jumunjy launch.
Slowly, slowly the posters will appear everywhere on the island.
Raph is doing two hours of yoga every morning and the boys are going to Thai boxing classes! Great, now they have a legitimate bashing period every day. Who knows, maybe they will all turn into little angels at home???

Anette Svensson buys 5 copies of Kiss the Sky!

2009-11-04T15:27:00.002+01:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EGRZHgLxkw

This morning it rained and rained and rained. The whole family was busy in the house and the smaller children, as if hypnotised by the sound, actually sat still for hours and did their work. Sol drew plans of a self sustainable city partly built underground, while Adam (above) did his Maths.

In the evening the most amazing thing happened: Anette Svensson from Sweden came by. She had finished reading and wanted four more to take back with her to Sweden;

our first quintuple customer! (See video)

Halloween @ Jumunjy

2009-11-01T11:31:00.000+01:00

Went to the best Halloween party ever @ Jumunjy in Thong Sala. Danced the night away on bare feet as somebody nicked my 'flashflops' (diamente flip flops). Raph (with Richie in the picture) came as well and decided that her parents can be cool (sometimes). This was our third lost night in 8 days and we're beginning to feel it...

Scooter Barbies

2009-10-30T01:31:00.000+01:00

The pink helmet is a success and so was the Yoga session Raph and I went to in the morning. Raph and I have our moments. We fight like crazy and then we're best friends again. She reckons she tells me all the 'worst things' she's ever done, which I better not mention here...

So then we asked the kids:

Raphy (15) thought the island was a bit fishy. She said she hated the fishy bit but was getting addicted to pine apple! She also said that the Thai boys stared far too much so she started waving to them all. Some smiled, some gave her weird looks or averted their eyes. She has made a new friend already. He is called Ras and comes by every day to whisk her away on his motor bike. She enjoyed the yoga class and wants to take the opportunity, now that she's in Thailand, to go to the hairdressers, the beauty and massage parlour and to get a wicked tan! The lucky girl!

What does Narayan say on his 13th birthday? (Now we have two teenagers, god(ess) help us!!!!!)

"Great for a holiday and I love the mangos! I could easily live on on just Mangos! Pity they're not in season and so expensive."
Frolicking in the water I asked Adam (5): "Aren't we lucky to be on the island?" He replied: "No Mummy, we are not a millionaire!" Sol (10) loved the juices and wished our dogs were here, then it would be the best place in the world!

When in Koh Phangan drive around like the Phanganers...

2009-10-28T14:38:00.001+01:00

Today the sidecar arrived. Now we're locals!

"I'm not going in that with you!" Raph said and went back into the house.

It started pouring down with rain as we were turning the corners for the first time. It was scary! We nearly landed in the pit of a building site by the muddy road. I held my breath and closed my eyes, coward that I am. The boys were squeaking with delight. In town we purchased helmets in assorted metallic colours and now we're family (easter) Egghead. The locals don't really do helmets and the helmet-less police tend to stop the ting tong (local speak for crazy) farangs to extract 200 Baht fines. I found a metallic Barbie-pink helmet for our teenager, hopefully that will make her change her mind...

We also went to a carpenter and ordered a big bunch of book stands so we can distribute Kiss the Sky all over the island. We have started sticking up posters everywhere and Ham has come over to pick up a box of books. He is going to help selling them.

The glossy Amazon proof copy has arrived. I prefer the matt cover of the Thai edition but hey...

Last night it started raining properly and the roof sounded like a drum machine. It was cosy inside while frogs were going crazy all around us. Adam was 'reading' Meg and the Sea. Raph was having a go at Louise Hay to combat teenage tantrums and the boys were under the mosquito nets studying horrible Geography. Our whole family is addicted to books. We never had a telly and computer time is limited.( We only let them on the computer when we're not around, it's a kind of free in-house baby sitter.)

Tomorrow I'll ask the kids what they think of our adventure so far.

Selling books on the beach

2009-10-25T11:13:00.001+01:00

After we partied all night we sold 14 books in the morning and left another ten in Jill's shop at the Sanctuary! What a job:

All you need is a pair of flip flops, some flimsy clothes, a bike and the beach. It's fantastic. Big relief after the material hassle and responsibilties of running an orchard and building a house in in Spain. Koh Phangan is stunningly beautiful and the books are selling as easily as the crop but with much more interesting conversations leading up to the sale. We couldn't have chosen a better place. People are open minded, relaxed and very supportive of our project.

Many thanks to all of you!

A mountain of books on the pier

2009-10-23T02:33:00.012+02:00

Thailand functions like a smoothly oiled machine as you keep feeding it the Bahts. From the window of our air-conditioned mini bus we admired the painted buses and blue tiled roofs of the houses, the golden temples, the hedges cut into elephant shapes, the wildly airbrushed busses. We were on our way to Koh Phangan and the books were to follow later by courier.

How do you manage four children cooped up for ten hours in a mini van? You don't. Everyone needs to use the loo sometimes but hardly ever at the same time. We nearly missed the boat and it started raining as we dragged under-exercised children, a teenager who watched us with hardly disguised disdain and 16 pieces of luggage at break-neck speed onto the ferry. Bedraggled and out of breath we got on the boat where we met Linda who said it was low season until after Christmas and Koh Phangan only fills up for the full moon parties.

At the pier we were welcomed by Ham from Switzerland. We had been corresponding almost daily since I had contacted him through his website and he showed us a place to stay in town.

Koh Phangan: turquoise water, palm trees, dragon clouds and some roller coaster roads have views so stunning they almost pull you off the bike. Beach bungalows galore. When they are made of natural materials such as bamboo and wood and set back under the palm trees it's alright, but clusters of identical concrete huts do recreate suburbia right here on the shores of this tropical paradise. It was impossible to find a house big enough for a family of 6. After about five days we settled into a one bedroom, wooden house with a massive kitchen.

We'll have to do it Thai style and share a small space...

We settled into a routine as one does with kids and started the home ed: An hour of creative writing with a fountain pen to begin with. Some fun stories emerged but the kids were fidgety and we realised we had to take them to the beach beforehand. Thank goodness Misha and her daughter Daisy will arrive end November!

Misha and I met during our gap year on the bus to Koh Samui in '89. At the time you could only get to Haadrin by boat. There was no electrcity and the dim lights and small sound systems were run by generators. Full moon parties with sixty people. Emma and I lost contact after she sent me a letter saying she was going back to Thailand over Christmas 2004. She is the nomadic, adventerous type and when she didn't reply to the e-mails I sent her, I thought she had perished in the Tsunami. A months ago she found me on Facebook saying how bored she was with her well paid job in the Middle East. I sent her the manuscript and that was it:

"Just what I needed," she said, "I'm coming over to help you!"

Misha is a star! She also said she had some ideas on how to promote the book.

Misha is a teacher and is going to help us with the home ed. I'm afraid home-ed doesn't work all that well with parents posing as teachers! Especially with parents like us. Sometimes I do miss the cane. It would be so easy.

We also bought a bike, ordered a side car and reserved the money for the delivery and here we were, down to our last two hundred pounds! We somehow under-estimated our living costs and the three grand went in a blink! Just when we were beginning to wonder whether to stockpile the brown rice and take it really easy, Ms. Onuma sent us an e-mail to say the books had arrived on the island.

So they had.

A massive heap of boxes sat on the end of the pier and although they clearly had stuck our address on every single one, the handsome Thai man in a white shirt holding the bill stated he'd been waiting all day for us to pick them up. We stood our ground and in the end he got a car and two strong men and between us we shifted 84 boxes in no time. I gave him a copy for the safe delivery and he was really chuffed. I hope I made my first Thai friend!

We are philistines

2009-10-17T05:45:00.001+02:00

The next day we went to the printer. Ms Onuma showed us the proofs and we finalised the details. Ms Onuma was incredibly efficient and it had been a real pleasure negotiating with her over e mail. For the proofs to arrive we had to wait another four days. She said the books could be shipped to Ko Phangan but it would take a few weeks.

We placed the final order and took the kids on holiday in Bangkok: hopping onto river taxis, in and out of tuk-tuks, sky trains and cabs. We ate at road side stalls, in plush restaurants, everywhere always accompanied by Raph's wailing and moaning about the fishy tastes and smells. Adam, a third of her age, was at least three times more curious to experiment with the fiery Thai palette of tastes. (Just to show that age doesn't mean a thing). We visited the zoo, the aquarium, but somehow didn't make it into a single temple.

We are philistines, culturally deficient people. The boys are into nature and Raphy needed clothes. So the girls separated from the boys and Raph dragged me in and out of shopping malls, the kind I actively try to avoid at home. Luckily we also found some fun night markets, the clothes so cheap, you wonder whether they'll survive washing?

Raph really, really wanted fake nails, the kind celebrities sport clutching womb like designer totes, while fleeing from the papperrazi. That was the look Raph was emulating at the time and what can you do? I thought 'what the heck, let's do the cheap and cheesy and have some fun. Raph is a beautiful girl and you can only be a teenager once!'

The girls discussed fashion and she bought little hot pants, so hot they were barely there, diamanté flip flops, and tiny tops to match. The fake nails topped it off to perfection.
"I need different looks," Raph said when we found Bob Marley t shirts, Rastafarian hair braids and shades, all at the price of small chocolate bars in Europe.

Still, Bangkok times six isn't all that cheap. In the process of sightseeing and acquiring a fake celebrity wardrobe, we somehow managed to blow a third of our budget in five days. Five days! Our return tickets were due in six months. What if we ran out of money before we the books arrived?

Tickets to Thailand and Teenage Tantrums in Bangkok

2009-10-12T11:12:00.014+02:00

We have orange, almond, fig and olive trees on our land. We also grow vegetables and herbs. After the growing season was over, we harvested, sold our crops, and wondered where to go in the middle of winter to promote this book?*

'The quest to exist financially whilst remaining true to yourself and your dreams without succumbing to the corporate treadmill' and the 90's dance music revolution is an underlying theme of How does it feel? a coming of age novel set in London.

Where in the world would we find the target audience for HDIF? On holiday with lots of time to read and relax? Koh Phangan of course! There they have the famous monthly full moon parties, frequented by backpacking partygoers from all over the world, many the age of main protagonist Claudia, who is twenty five when the story unfolds.

Because of the quality of the work, publishers often get their books printed in Thailand anyway!

We found a printer over the web and started negotiating prices. And foolishly booked our airline tickets, wanting to rush to paradise, as if worried that the money would be spent on more mundane things otherwise. Had no one told us that paradise isn't going to go away so soon? That you can't rush a good thing?

The next three weeks were spent on frantically getting the book ready and on finding a house sitter...

Three weeks. Anyone who has ever published a book will tell you that it takes months from manuscript to book. It does. We learnt the hard way. Still, loads of people proofread it, we found a cover designer who had lots of kudos - wasn't he just designing Paul Mc Cartney's album cover? - and who was happy to do it for very little.

On top of it all, an old friend of mine - I hadn't seen her in ten years and we first met in Thailand - got in touch through myspace. Misha, a single mom, is an English teacher and when I sent her the manuscript she proposed to join us in Thailand. She said she loved the book and could help with the home education and ideas for promotion. It looked like the universe was conspiring to help us on our way. How lucky we thought we were, how little we knew!

We took off to Thailand with four kids, eight suitcases, some weighing heavy with home ed books, a guitar and weren't we glad that Jet airways allows you hand luggage on top of it all? There we were, Rich and I, travelling with 17 items to keep hold of, for convenience's sake assuming that a kid is an item.

The cab spewed us out into the rain, a couple of blocks away from the guest house of our choice. The River View Guesthouse is in the middle of old China town, and the minibus limousine

we chartered at the airport simply couldn't get round the last few corners. Please note that I said guesthouse, not hotel, as we were doing the real Bangkok, backpackers heaven, no air conditioned luxury pad for us. Walk the talk and all that! Rich and I were nostalgic for the olden days, before daily laundry and bum wiping became the norm, when we were unencumbered youth travelling with a couple of items at most. Debris swooshing past our ankles in the monsoon torrent, bedraggled and already regretting most of our luggage, we arrived at the guesthouse.

Half an hour later, this took place on the eighth floor in the restaurant of the River View Guesthouse:
A gentle, cooling breeze was fanning the terrace, the city down below was steaming in sweltering heat. Some of Bangkok's skyscrapers have been topped off with neo-classical domes or chinese pagodas and their lit up outlines sparkled in the night sky like something out of a James Bond movie, although the James Bond impression faded really quickly once you entered the guest house itself. On the river tourist boats played karaoke of tunes people pretend to hate.

"I don't like Thai food. Everything tastes of fish! I might as well be anorexic in this stupid country!" Raphy got up from the table. "I want something plain and simple!"

"What? Like you?" Clive said, grinning.

We had befriended Clive in a queue at the airport as I was force-feeding the kids bananas and he had come with us to the River View Guesthouse. Clive's presence was great and the kids had so far been on best behaviour. Unfortunately, it seemed that the 'stranger effect' had already worn off with Raphy shrieking at the top of her voice,

"And I thought we were for once staying somewhere nice!"

She stomped off in a huff.

"You know, you should film that kind of thing," Clive said. "People would love to find out how you do it with so many kids."

*Author's note: The Thai bootleg edition was published as Woman in the Sky, but after I had the most passionate and in depth reviews by male readers often starting with: 'I thought this was a woman's book at first.... ' Rich and I decided to change the title to Kiss the Sky for the official publication. To avoid confusion I will from now on call it by its new title Kiss the Sky

I love Bill Hicks

2009-10-12T10:47:00.076+02:00

Did I say market research? That made it sound a lot more contrived than I meant. I love what Bill Hicks said:
"You work in marketing? Go home and shoot yourself! Right now!"
I don't want think about my readers as if they were a market. For five years I woke up at four in the morning to write this book, and anyone who spends their precious time to join me on that journey, I'd rather see as a friend than some entity in statistics, ruled by numbers and clichés.

I only used the word market, because at some point Richie and I infiltrated the upper echelons of the London Book Fair by donning agents' badges. (More about that later). As an result we got a reply to a query:
"...blah... we like your writing, but we do not think that there is a market for your subject matter. Please send us any other writing you will be doing in the future... blah."

So the agency replied that there was no place in the market for a novel talking about the power of dance music, about love and sex and the freedom to party.

Since the nineties we have dance floor obsessed youth, all over the planet. Where are the voices that validate their dreams? What happened? Does the war on drugs also extend to youth culture?

Our idea of having fun is to find a way to survive financially by doing something we LOVE. This is how Richie and I operate with four kids and more often than not we have to improvise. Our bank balance is witness to that, but if we have to chose between owning our time or some digits in the bank, time has always won, so far...

Why wait and collect rejection slips from anonymus people reading for a living, for money basically, when we can take this novel straight to the readers who read for love and pleasure!

So forget the market, forget all the old school commercial concepts and let's get down to art.

We decided to take this novel straight to its readers to find out what they have to say about it...

Snoopy is right

2009-10-12T05:10:00.033+02:00

The idea of taking our four kids, Raphaela 15, Narayan 12, Sol 10 and Adam 5 out of school, to home educate them in Thailand, while promoting my first novel on the beaches of Koh Phangan, was sparked off by a Snoopy cartoon.

Winter was looming, even in Southern Spain where we live in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. We're based South of Granada, in Driving over Lemons country. Picture orange trees, almond blossom, fierce sunshine and snow capped mountains, but it still gets nippy without heating, and having huddled around the fireplace for most winters in the last ten years, we quite fancied a tropical one, for a change. The family talked about palm trees, sharks and sunsets, about diving and surfing.

Except for our teenager Raphaela who said she was happy with her mates, and wanted to stay exactly where she was, at home, thank you very much. At that point in time, her mates were every parents' nightmare come true and that Rapha spent the last school year bunking off, while experimenting with all those things every normal teenager is interested in, and that give every normal parent sleepless nights, strands of grey hair and worse.

Anyway, my husband Richie and I couldn't stop dreaming about this tropical beach, when one day Narayan showed us aforementioned cartoon:

"Dear Publisher," Snoopy is bent over his typewriter "My book is so good, I'm not even going to send it to you! Why don't you come and get it yourself?"
On the next page he continues addressing the publisher:...
"Dear Sirs, you did not come yesterday. Are you ill?"

Bingo! An idea was born: Why not print our own copies of the book and sell it to tourists on the beach? Why not avoid perishing on the slush piles (the industry's endearing term for unsolicited manuscripts) altogether, go on a far eastern odyssey and do a little 'market' research instead?

We also thought a big adventure would distract our wayward teenager, if only temporarily. We'd take the horse to different waters so to speak. She could also do with one last mega blast of family life before spreading her wings. Or so we sincerely hoped...

By going to Thailand we could also interrupt our school orientated routine and escape the matrix! As parents we've come to the conclusion that school sucks and that it ruins your life TWICE, even three times. Every now and then, I still have dreams of having to sit a maths exam. The relief upon waking up to reality, bathed in cold sweat, is still unbelievable!

I have to admit that our children's school careers have been patchy. We've been taking them in and out of school, home educating on and off. As a result our kids are bilingual, with a fondness for reading that borders on addiction, partly because instead of a TV we have thousands of books and partly because we don't have any nearby neighbours here. We used to collect second-hand books on Portobello Road in London to sell them to the expats on market days in Spain. That was obviously before Amazon took over and long before the reign of the Kindle.

Perhaps taking them out of boring old school has kept their thirst for knowledge and learning alive, and made them really adaptable and independent. You could say our sprogs are so independent and free-spirited that we sometimes want to tear our hair out, and let out a loooong wail of desperation!
Who is the authority here? Why did we choose to be parents of the carrot instead of stick? ...Whatever happened to the good old cane???