The countdown is getting closer

Simona Taylor’s newest novel is out!

Two more days before The Tantalizing Mr. Templar goes live and I’m exciting and nervous. There are few things more harrowing than waiting for your book to drop. So much to do, so many little strings to tie up.

But I’m going for it. Somebody say, whoop, whoop!

Get it here on Amazon

And the winner is…

Choices, choices, choices.

I’ve been working hard on my new website and social media items for reviving my Simona Taylor profile, and I want to share a few of them with you. I visited the wonderful treasure trove that is Fiverr and commissioned a new logo, but first, I had several choices to make. These were all clever, but my final choice is down below.

Choice #1, pretty but a little pale.
Choice #2, pretty, but hard to read from afar.
And the winner is: Choice #3, which says exactly what I want to say.
Also available as a circle. We likes it, precious!

What do you think? Let me know in the comments.

Simona’s back!

It’s so good to be back on the romance scene!

Cartoon image of Simona Taylor with braids and a wide smile.
New profile, new me.

Amazing news! After a hiatus of ten years (really!) I am reawakening my Simona Taylor alter ego. I’m preparing to bring you several new romance novels, with all the fun and flirtation of the old Simona.

I also want to share some artwork I’m working on, including my new profile pic here.

Simona’s also gonna have her own website: SimonaTaylor.net. It’s still under construction, but I hope you visit soon! She’s also on Facebook and on Twitter and her updated Amazon Author page is here.

It’s going to be a great ride. I hope you come along!

A Backpack, a Chair and a Beard

A great book from a great person.

Good news! One of my favorite editing clients, Eamon Wood, has released his memoir, A Backpack, a Chair and a Beard. The cover blurb says more than I can:

A paraplegic since the age of four, Eamon found ways to give his wheelchair wings. He became the number one seed in the Kiwi men’s wheelchair tennis rankings, and represented his country on the men’s wheelchair basketball team, travelling the world. But that was in a safe, predictable team setting. He wanted more.

At twenty-eight, he set off on an epic journey, with little more than his backpack, his guitar, and an open mind. He hitchhiked around New Zealand’s southern island. The travelling bug took him to the UK and the USA, then along the fjords and lakes of Europe.

He slept rough, did odd jobs, busked in thoroughfares and made friends with oddballs. He wheeled his way through cities and small towns, searching… and found himself.

Join the Wayward Wheeler on his epic adventure, detailed with sincerity and humour in A Backpack, a Chair and a Beard.

I can in a completely non-partisan way that it’s a great read. Get it here on Kindle, or on RealNZBooks in New Zealand.

A Dose of Humility

You can’t edit with a swelled head.

So, recently, I was dealt a dose of humility, forced to choke on a slice of humble pie. I’ve been doing well in terms of clients during lockdown; maybe people have been moved to write. A couple of them have given me multi-book contracts for editing, and I have been loving every minute of it.

Many of my clients have been enthusiastic, very happy with my work, even offering me bonuses and upping our agreed prices.

Does that feel good?

Why, yes, yes it does.

But it’s also terrifyingly seductive, leading you to a place where you begin to think you are infallible. Many clients had suffered such terrible edits in the past that they were full of praise, and I began to eat it up. I began to think I was Head Editor In Charge.

And that’s how I fell down and scraped my knees.

I was in the midst of a very long novel, when I noticed that the timeline didn’t add up. Several events were out of line, and simply didn’t sync. True, most readers would have read merrily along, but for me, it nagged like a toothache.

I notified my client. I began to fix it. I spent two days with a calendar, changing dates, shifting whole scenes around to make the timeline fit. When I was done, I was mighty pleased with myself. Not many editors would have been that sharp-eyed, after all. I was pretty damn good at my job and he was damn lucky to have me!

Except . . .  the client was upset. And that is putting it mildly. “It’s my book,” he said. “I know what you did is technically correct, but I liked it the way it was before! It is MY BOOK!”

And I felt so hurt, ashamed, and embarrassed. I apologised, begged for forgiveness, and returned everything the way it was.

I remembered all the shitty edits I’ve received from my publishers in the past, the slash and burn of my carefully crafted words, leaving me bristling with anger or broken in tears. I heard the echoes of my own voice, my own pain: “It is MY BOOK! How dare they?”

I have become the very thing I had vowed to destroy.

So down a peg or two I’ve slid. I’ve done everything I can to make amends to my client, and hope he will forgive me. I’m glad for the timely lesson, and won’t be forgetting it soon. I’m a good writer, yes. A damn good editor, yes.

But I will never be great until I remember, every time I put hands to keyboard, that this isn’t about me. It’s not about how much I know or how adept I am with a semi-colon. It is and always will be about the client, the writer, and THEIR BOOK.

They must always come first. You know, before my ego.

What do you think? Leave me a comment.

Yes, we had electricity when I was a kid…

And a few other things I want the young ‘uns to know

Kids born around the turn of the century (like mine) are digital natives, born into an age of technology that the rest of us have watched develop and evolve.  They either assume that the lifestyle they take for granted and enjoy was always there, or that everyone over 30 was born in the Stone Age.

So, to satisfy their curiosity, and on behalf of those of us who didn’t have programming code embedded in their DNA, here are a few things Gen Whatever-Letter-We’re-On-Right-Now need to know.

“What was it like back in the olden days, when you were a little girl … you know, before electricity?”

Electricity was around before we were born.  But gas stoves still make the best grilled cheese sandwiches.

We only had one TV channel, and it didn’t run all night.  It signed on in the morning and signed off at night.  If you were bored, you would sit and watch the test pattern, which was a very interesting series of circles and lines.  If you were extra bored, you switched to a dead channel and watched the snow.

For a long time, all shows were in black and white.  I was six or seven before I discovered that Big Bird was yellow.

We didn’t have remote controls.  You had to get up and turn a dial if you wanted the TV louder or softer.  Better yet, you made your little sister get up and change it, and while she was doing that, you took her space on the couch.

You only got to see cartoons on Saturday mornings.  Woe betide you if you had extra lessons on a Saturday; you’d miss Spiderman and the Flintstones for a whole term.

Once in a while, for no reason whatsoever, your radio suddenly started yelling at you in Spanish.  Hence the expression “To cut in like a Spanish radio station.”

When we were out of the house and needed to talk to someone, we had things called “phone booths”, which were teeny little houses with huge phones in them, scattered randomly along the road.   You needed 25 cents to make a call, so you usually kept a handful of coins jangling in your purse for this purpose.  Most of the time, the phones didn’t work.

You actually had to remember people’s phone numbers, or write them down on paper.  If you made a mistake while dialling, you had to hang up and dial again.  There was no Back button.

When you needed to buy something, you had to leave your house and go to  store.  Often, it was your only trip out for the week.  

On weekends and during school vacations we rode across the Sahara, forged the Amazon, and hunted crocodiles … all in the empty lot down the street.  Our vittles were crackers and peanut butter.  Nobody cared what we got up to, as long as we got back before dark.

“You mean, when you were a kid they didn’t have Internet?”

When we had research to do we used these things called “encyclopaedia”, which were thick books that came in sets of 20 or 30, and took up a whole shelf in the library.  They were heavy enough to knock a grown man to the floor.  We actually had to write stuff down; there was no Wikipedia to cut and paste from.

Power went out.  A lot.  If it happened at night, you went outside in the yard and played games like “Gypsy in the Moonlight” and “Jane and Louisa will Soon Come Home.”  We laughed and told jokes.  We didn’t stand by the wireless router and scream at it until power came back.

We talked to our friends face to face.  And we knew their real names.

So, yeah, we were born before the Internet.  Instead of Playstation we had “Play-in-the-yard”.  It may not sound like much to you, but, oh, we had the time of our lives.

Any questions? Any memories to share? Leave them in the comments.

The Irresistible Mr. Cooper

Presenting my first novel in eight years and my first self-published novel. Yay me!

MR. FIX-IT IS VERY GOOD WITH HIS HANDS….
Jenessa Sterling, the sophisticated, successful Corporate Communications Manager of Bianchi’s frozen foods, has a mysterious admirer, who eventually reveals himself to be Mitchell Cooper, the new Head of Maintenance. Tall and hazel-eyed, he’s one of the hottest things to turn up on her horizon in ages, and he’s not afraid to let her know he’s interested.

Jenessa’s flattered, even equally attracted. But there’s one little problem: she’s Management. He’s a glorified handyman. What would her colleagues say? But as her attraction to this sensual, well-read, irresistible man grows, her prejudices begin to fade.

Mitchell is confident enough in his own masculinity that she’ll eventually come around. Far from unlearned and simplistic, he’s a complex, well-educated man who left academia to have more time to care for his 12-year-old niece, Ruby, shielding her from her mother, Mitchell’s crack-addicted sister, Coral. He’s a man who believes in heart, friendship and family.

When sudden layoffs tear the company apart, Jenessa and Mitchell find themselves on opposite sides of an ugly corporate rift, with Jenessa struggling to maintain the company’s reputation, and Mitchell putting his career on the line to bring peace back to the workplace and support the people he believes in.

Their relationship doesn’t sit well with the rest of Bianchi’s, either. His staff think he’s sleeping with the enemy. Her people have threatened to sink her chances of attaining the coveted Vice Presidency if she continues the relationship.

When Mitchell’s sister’s bid to recover Ruby turns dangerous, the couple must refocus their attentions on keeping her safe. In so doing, they forget the barriers between them and discover that love, passion and the bonds of family are enough.

Get it here on Amazon Kindle or Print on Demand

Read it? Comment here.