Just when I thought it was safe to go in the water…

I wasn’t expecting a bombshell yesterday, but that’s what I got.

Why is it that every time I think I am getting somewhere, something always happens to smack me upside the head?

This year I have been busy upgrading our books. New covers and blurbs and a thorough pass through Grammarly when it occurred to me that I needed to upgrade the print books on our bookshelf too. So I bought a paperback copy of my first book, Nine Lives. This is something I always used to do as proof positive that our books are as good as I can make them. Good to see them in print anyway.

It arrived yesterday morning, and it looks awful. I was so disappointed. The formatting is all wrong. The text is squashed on the page, and the margins are practically non-existent. Add to this, there are many blank pages.

Now, I know how to format a paperback book and haven’t changed the system I use, so these errors must be down to Amazon.

After nearly losing my mind and my temper, shortly followed by the overwhelming desire to run away and become a nun. All that work for nothing; did I really want to start all over again?

My first question was, if I cannot trust my old method any more, how am I supposed to get it right?

I wondered about Scrivener. They format your books, but I haven’t been able to learn enough about it. And Lord knows I have tried!

Funnily enough, and I’m not laughing, not inside, but just for a laugh, I read Amazon’s guidelines. They were the same as I remembered and how I always formatted our books. So what the dickens was going on?

So, I now have a new list. All I have to do now is find a truckload of patience to go with it…

Wish me Luck!

Jaye’s Disappointing Days… #Friday Thoughts

Friday Thoughts…

I think this year began badly for everyone, as we were still shell-shocked from all that had gone before.

I thought most of it had gone though, hadn’t it?

This was a brand new year. Time to get cracking and shake off the residue of misery and frustration.

It took nearly three months before something masquerading as enthusiasm turned up, but boy, was it welcome!


There is always a but, isn’t there?

Once I started to enjoy being a writer again, my health slowly drifted to worryville. Various checks later, my heart has been pronounced strong and healthy. Blood tests have checked the rest of my bits, and they’re all fine.

So why do I feel so ill, breathless and tired? I have trouble doing anything, and it’s getting worse.

One last check, a chest X-ray. Surely this must give me some answers?

I had a mini meltdown at my doctor’s appointment earlier this week. I hate bothering the doctor almost as much as I hate feeling ill and hate asking for help. She kept me waiting a long time, and from the look of the usually calm and helpful doctor, she must have had one hell of a day. She looked much older, tired and exhausted. Probably didn’t need me and all my questions that day.

Communication was strained as I tried to convey my worries. She struggled to decide what to do, finally listening to my chest and agreeing that I needed an X-ray. At that point, I think she needed me to stand up, say thanks very much and walk away.

But I had one more question…

What happened next was like a slap around the face. I mentioned my poor swollen foot. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and said, ‘I suppose you want me to look at it?’

I stared at her, my temper and emotions arguing about what to do next.

Out of nowhere, I stood up and said, ‘No, I don’t think I do….’

She tried to backtrack at that point, apologising (I wasn’t sure what for), and then blamed me for having so many questions. Apparently, I had exceeded my allotted ten minutes!

When I left the surgery, I wasn’t quite sure whether I wanted to scream or cry. I did neither. I felt numb, vowing never to darken her door again. It took two days of sitting around, unable to concentrate on anything, before I started to feel normal again. At that point, I could have lain down on the road and died.

The X-ray is next Tuesday morning…