It's been a long time...

I'm very aware that I haven't posted anything for a long time. Not since I last revealed that if I sold 5000 copies of The Surrogate that I would propose to my long suffering girlfriend as I had promised. A lot, and I mean a lot has happened since then. Fifty Shades of Grey has sold more copies than the bible, British people have become obsessed with cycling, canoeing and rowing, and Manchester City have broken the record for the World's most expensive football trophy.

Even though I've not been writing much, or posting, it's nice to see that I'm still getting hits. Oddly, a lot of these hits have been coming from Sweden, so Sverige, Tack så mycket. However, I do feel like I should update everybody on what has been happening with the new book. 

Well, to be honest, not much has been happening. A third draft is in the can, but I've sort of hit a rut on a fourth and final draft. I know what changes I need to make, I know what I have to do, but for some reason, I just haven't found the time to do it. Well, that's a lie. I've had plenty of time, I've just hit that horrible period of writer's block. It's not the first time it's happened, and it probably won't be the last. I wrote the final draft of The Surrogate in six weeks. I don't think I've written anything in anger since. And one of the reasons is, there is no real urgency to do so. 

So much has happened in the last six months. I've been working almost non-stop, got engaged ( despite only selling 4000 books for the cynics out there) and last but my no means least, I'm going to be a dad for the first time. And maybe, that is what will shake me from this rut. 

 It's funny how something as little as the picture above can change your perspective on life. Writing doesn't seem as important now as it did. In six months time, all of the free time I have will not be spent of mulling over plot and dialogue, it'll be spent on changing nappies and getting some much needed sleep. All the time I have now is a blessing, I'm about to start living my life for somebody else. But that's not why I need to write again. 

I've been keeping a journal of the pregnancy so far, something I can give to my child when they grow up to let them know that since they were born I was thinking about them. In that journal, I've been trying to tell my unborn son or daughter, who I am now. That's not as easy as you would think. It's very easy to say who you were or who you want to be, but telling somebody who you are at that present time is difficult. One thing I do know though, is who I want to be, and that's somebody my child will be proud of. Yes, I have a good job as a lecturer, yes I'm in a loving relationship but I want to be more. I want to be more for my children. I want them to be able to look up to me as somebody who wasn't afraid to take a chance, to follow a dream and take control of their own life. I want to somebody they will aspire to be, and hopefully, I will. 

C J Evans

 

The Promise

February is the shortest month of the year and also one of the most depressing. January's salary disappears on bills from Christmas, your New Year's Resolutions have gone the same way as your money and along comes the annual celebration of showing your love through maxing out your credit card on an overpriced weekend away or not so romantic meal. Add to that, this year is a leap year and men everywhere go into hiding on the 29th just in case their girlfriends know about the old adage of women proposing on the extra day in the year.

Luckily for me, that isn't the case. My long suffering girlfriend has already told me that she would never in a million years propose to me because that is not the way it has to be done. My girlfriend is a very traditional woman (even though she earns more money than I do). Take for example the time we were discussing whether or not we wanted children - 'Would you want to have children without getting married or do you want to do it the RIGHT way?' No leading questions there!

So when I was just about to publish The Surrogate, and after a period where I wasn't working, I promised her that if I sold five thousand copies I'd ask her to marry me, she was delighted. I, on the other hand, had dodged a bullet. I'd given her the sign that I was ready for commitment, put faith in our relationship, and left the whole thing to chance. While she was willing the book to sell thousands of copies while flicking through bridal magazines, I was sitting back watching one or two books sell, comfortable in the knowledge that there was no way that I would be getting married this side of 2014, if ever. Then, it all went horribly wrong.

So far The Surrogate has sold just over 1000 copies in two months. Whether it's because people like it, fate, just dumb luck, or Joanne has 999 copies on her Kindle, it is selling and at this rate, I'll be ring shopping by September.

I know it sounds like I don't want to get married. I do. And I want to marry Joanne. She has been there for me since day one of this adventure and she is the one person that made me believe that I could do this. She may be messy, bossy and a bit of a control freak, but I wouldn't change her for the world. She sees the best in people, and I was lucky that somehow she saw the best in me. So if it happens, it happens. If another 4000 copies of The Surrogate fly out of the big database that stores all Amazon Kindle titles in the next few months, I will be standing at an altar somewhere, waiting. Tense, nervous (and knowing Joanne's ability to be late for everything) probably fearful.When she finally arrives, I'll be looking over my shoulder at her in awe and amazement, because without her, I wouldn't have sold a single copy.

C J Evans.

Back to the real world

It's been a long time since I posted. The madness of Christmas and New Year has long subsided and I thought I'd be able to get myself into a nice little routine of working and writing. Unfortunately, work took over as my students had exams and I was spending a lot of time preparing them (hopefully as much time as they were revising) and then it was my little sister's wedding at the weekend. I'm never been married, but if the amount of time, money and effort into being the Bride's brother is anything to go by, I think I'll need a year or two off to organise and pay for my own wedding!!! I never really realised how much an event like that took over your life as a guest let alone being the Bride or Groom. This past weekend I really started to identify with one of my own characters - Tristan from The Surrogate. That said, I am glad to report that my sister didn't seem to fall into any of the cliches from the opening chapters of the book.

It was the first major family event since I released The Surrogate, so I had a lot of interest in my book. From my Dad asking me about sales figures (I think he's counting on it being a million seller so he can retire) to more distant relations asking me where I came up with the idea or what the book is about. I also learned that one of my cousins that I don't see often is drafting her own YA novel - so keep a look out for Hayley Gelling's debut. For some people who had read the book, I got constant comparisons to Tristan, much to the chagrin of my girlfriend. I had an uncle who was trying to convince me to get married (I'll come back to this in a further post) and whenever I was playing with my niece Ella or my nephew Domenic (who at four years of age was busting out the robot (or as he called it the Bumblebee)) I was being told time and time again not to go and try and buy a child like Tristan did. It was tiring being compared to a product of my imagination, but at the same time, heartwarming that so many friends and family had read the book.

I did have a chance to do some writing prior to the wedding. I have to give a reading at the ceremony and it wasn't really until two or three days before that I got the idea for the following poem. I haven't written any poetry of note for over ten years, but as it was my sister's wedding, she asked me to prepare something on family. It was generally well received, with even the minster commenting in his sermon on how he wished he could write like that. But I'll let you judge that for yourself. I'm not sure whether it's an original idea or not, certainly I have heard parents being compared to being giants and children being called creatures before, but it was for my sister, whom I am very proud of and love dearly.

Family

I was born into a land of giants, beneath a blanket of smiling faces,

Each with wide open eyes and gobbledygook tongues;

Such vivid colours and subtle sweet scents,

In a blurred warm sky of unconditional love.

But in the night, when I was hungry or cold

I cried out and the giants were there for me.

The giants were as tall as tall could be,

They spoke in such booming voices that I could not hear

But when they whispered, they spoke of wisdom,

Telling me stories of what I could do and who I could be.

And in the darkness, when I saw monsters in the shadows

I screamed out and the giants were there for me.

Then I saw other creatures that were just like me.

They told me in voices that were the same as mine,

That there were other giants as far as the eye could see.

I didn’t believe them, there were only my giants I’d say.

But with each passing day, I saw more and more giants.

I asked questions and the giants were there for me.

There was one giant, who was kinder than the others,

But she grew bigger and tired and one day she wasn’t there.

Another giant lifted me onto his shoulders so that I could see

The giants gathering around, all cooing and babbling

Over a little creature; one so small I could barely see

I didn’t understand it, but the giants were there for me.

One day I woke and the giants weren’t so fearsome.

No longer were they as tall as tall could be.

Other creatures wove tales of danger and adventure

While the giants gave me warnings that I didn’t believe.

When my ego was bruised and my heart was broken,

I yelled at them, but the giants were still there for me.

Then there were no more giants to see.

Just other beings that sounded and dressed like me.

Beings who taught me how to live and how to love.

How to laugh and how to dance, how to work and how to toil.

But when I faltered or struggled to make sense of the world,

I called them and the giants were there for me.

One day, as I wandered aimless and free,

I met my other and we were complete,

With small creatures like she and I had once been.

Then we became the giants, as tall as tall could be,

With gobbledygook tongues and wide open eyes.

I looked at my creatures and the giants were there for me

Now I am long past being a giant,

And the creatures have creatures of their own.

As time draws close and sleep descends

I pass on the words of giants past,

Words they once whispered to me;

Just look at your reflection and I will be there for you. 

C J Evans