Sunday 31 October 2010

EVIL REVIEWS

So it was all going along nicely on Kindle and then someone posted the most horrible review of Naked! Obviously didn't get that the book is essentially chick-lit and a comedy. Seemed to think I was trying to write another Shopaholic (a reviewer made the connection to Sophie Kinsella, not me) and took joy in insisting I didn't know where the plot was going.

I know it's only one amongst the many positive reviews, but it still hurts. Still, people have a right to an opinion. Going to drown myself in cupcakes now!

Monday 11 October 2010

Final drafts, edits and hell

What do the above three have in common. Hmm. Not difficult, is it? They all involve time spent away from XFactor, EastEnders, donut-buying activities and any other insignificant way I can procrastinate.

Marrying Out of Money, my second novel, is due out on ebook/Kindle etc November 30th, and it is going to be a close-run thing as to whether it is ready in time.

There are so many important aspects of publicity that I am ignoring, because I am tied to my desk (before and after hours, thanks to my day job) writing, fine-tuning, and generally freaking out.

Luckily, the paperback version of the title is now scheduled for mid-2011 (phew), which does give me some time to drum up decent business, but still, we all know how important it is for authors to get out there and spread the word. Instead of spreading jam on a toastie, which is about what I am managing these days.

On a brighter note, Naked in Knightsbridge is selling well on Kindle - a nice surprise, especially since I expected loads of returns when people realised it wasn't porn. As chick-lit authors go, I am pretty sedate when it comes to bedroom antics (literally, and in an authorship sense!). I suppose too much gooey stuff bores me, so I prefer not to include it.

So that's it for now. Apologies if I am a little down-beat. Must be low blood sugar!

Best,

Nicky.

Friday 25 June 2010

Summer, novels and cellulite

It’s difficult enough to motivate myself when it’s cold and there’s no other option but to stay inside and work, but all this lovely sunshine is creating problems for my deadlines. I mean, I could work at an outdoor table, if there was an outlet for my laptop. I could bring a spare battery for my laptop, I suppose, but once I’ve loaded by bag with pastries, er . . . suncream, sunglasses and newspaper, it’s so heavy that I need one of those ditty little Ikea trolleys to drag it around. By the way, in case you are wondering, I am one of those people who buy a coffee and sit in a café, then sneakily consume cheaper, taster fare from elsewhere where the baristas aren’t looking. Come on, don’t judge me - I work in publishing, for god’s sake! Besides, last I looked, macaroons et al are in short supply at those generic cafés around London.
So, with the Marrying Out of Money deadline looming, I need someone to come and tie me to a desk, preferably in a dark closet with no tempting sunshine to distract me.
And before I get a mail from that guy with hair lip, limp and questionable morals, not you! But I am available for a date at that café by the Serpentine if you’re paying.

Tuesday 8 June 2010

A taste of the new

For all of those who have been asking about Marrying Out of Money via Prospera's Twitter and website, here is a snippet of what it's all about. Only a snippet, mind you, because thanks to my rubbish computer abilities, that's pretty much all I have.

Okay, it all starts with a rich coffee heiress questioning the dedication of her less than erudite, tree-hugging boyfriend, who is a member rockband 4BY4. The social climbing mother of said heiress decides that enough is enough, and hooks up with a poverty-stricken aristocrat to arrange a marriage between the heiress and a snotty, outrageously good-looking Harry Partington - 40th in line to the throne. Not surprisingly, for both parties, it's hate on sight. Still desperately in love with the rockstar, but with her beloved father ill and wanting nothing more that to see her married, the heiress sets about making herself so repulsive that the aristocrats decide a future on a derelict council estate is preferable to having her as a daughter-in-law. Of course, nothing goes according to plan.

Monday 7 June 2010

ME, MYSELF AND NICKY

So, as most of you may suspect, my true identity is hidden from the world-at-large. The reason, of course, is that should the world-at-large (read: those with little or no sense of humour) discover my serious daily persona actually hides a slightly deranged cake-eating chick-lit author, me and my reasonably large rear end will become too-well acquainted with a Jools'-style cardboard box in which to live. Well, okay, I probably won't get booted into a box, but certain people I come into contact with on a daily basis may be less than impressed with my schizo tendencies.

Having said all that, it is kind of nice living a double life, particularly as I get to admit to my hero worship of sugar without it affecting any stuffy board meetings. God, I hate those meetings. The ones where they lay out half-a-dozen tasty little morsels but every single woman in the room refuses one least she looks like a porker just released from a trough. Now, you'd think I would just tuck in, wouldn't you (given I have no self-control when it comes to pastries), but no, when I am not Nicky, I am serious, sensible, and even manage to keep the decibels on my stomach rumbles to a level only a dog could hear.

Luckily, I am becoming adapt at being Nicky for a good portion of the day now. Before work, lunch, after work. It's amazing how many cafes will let you linger over one cappuccino for hours. Well one coffee and four cupcakes, but you get the point.

So, that's it for Nicky now. Time to head back to tedium and statistics. I'll write again soon. But first, must really spend some time on Marrying Out of Money! Happy eating,

N.

Monday 17 May 2010

Right, I know what you are going to say. What on earth have you been up to Nicky?

It’s been weeks and weeks since we’ve heard from you. Have you been arrested for indecent pastry consumption? Are you over in Greece rioting for the sheer sake of it? Has the volcanic ash cloud left you stranded in some far flung place where the breakfast buffet makes it impossible to leave the table and do any work?

Well, like all good procrastinators, I have a more probable list of reasons for my slack behaviour (okay, the breakfast buffet would actually be reasonably realistic), but as it turns out, I don’t need them, because the unthinkable has happened.
I have lost a good portion of the manuscript for Marrying Out of Money.

Yes, you heard right. Nicky Schmidt, person with limited attention span for the niceties of office work, has somehow allowed three months’ work to vanish into the ether of evil computing hell.

What? Didn’t I back it up? Yes, of course I did. I am not so donut-stuffed that I forgot to take out my trusty USB and do the right thing. Problem is, I didn’t reckon on both my laptop and USB mounting a challenge against sanity and wiping the file I had stupidly saved as a wps. What’s that? you ask. Who knows? I reply. And why was it a wps file? Again, can’t really say.

Don’t worry, those questions have been asked by the publisher’s IT guys more than once, and you know, I can’t really give a reason that doesn’t result in the techno geeks rolling their eyes in frustration. Silently, I know they think if I spent more time learning about back-ups and less eating pastries we wouldn’t be in this mess, but people, without the pastries, I couldn’t churn out my work. I need sugar to make the magic happen. Well, until about 5 pm, after which time I need sugar and wine.

So, there you have it. The best excuse ever. Shame that it is, in fact, true. So I am off to rewrite numerous chapters of my new book.

And consume about 40,000 calories. Who says comfort eating has no positive effects?
Stay sane until next time, even if I don’t.

X Nicky.

Monday 25 January 2010

Hail readers of the Naked in Knightsbridge blog. So sorry I have been absent post-wise for the last month or so. Okay, I should have been busy writing, but the truth is I am actually quite lazy and adapt at procrastination, so over Christmas I committed to working but ended up doing nothing but socialising and eating. Now, despite the fact that I am still enjoying my daily cake fix a month later, I have now begun to work on my next book ‘Marrying out of Money’. Due to be released later this year, it is about a girl who is a little less pathetic than Jools in Naked, although I have ensured plenty of dubious character traits in other characters to keep my readers happy.

Anyway, sitting around all day eating cakes and writing is not exactly beneficial to my waistline. Whilst out shopping in my local supermarket some young guy approached me, advertising a nearby gym. He might as well have been advertising an eternity in hell with Satan and normally I try to avoid all eye contact with perky gym membership peddlers but I fell over one of my M&S foodhall bags and he was upon me.

“Do you exercise?”
“No,” I said, carefully replacing the six pack of cookies and jam and cream scones that had rolled from my stash.
“Well, maybe you should, after all, you’re a little on the tubby side, aren’t you?”
Jeez, did he expect me to agree with him? ‘Yes, I am huge, lead me to your gym.’
Instead I told him to hightail it to Satan’s parlour and leave me in peace.
“You know, pretty soon you’ll have to buy an extra seat on the plane. You don’t want that, do you?”

I was going to hit him with my M&S bags but they might have burst and that would be a waste of perfectly good food.

So, you see, we all have those days where Jool’s exploits seem so lifelike. Enough proscratination. Time to get back to working on my book.

Take care

Nicky xxx

Sunday 31 October 2010

EVIL REVIEWS

So it was all going along nicely on Kindle and then someone posted the most horrible review of Naked! Obviously didn't get that the book is essentially chick-lit and a comedy. Seemed to think I was trying to write another Shopaholic (a reviewer made the connection to Sophie Kinsella, not me) and took joy in insisting I didn't know where the plot was going.

I know it's only one amongst the many positive reviews, but it still hurts. Still, people have a right to an opinion. Going to drown myself in cupcakes now!

Monday 11 October 2010

Final drafts, edits and hell

What do the above three have in common. Hmm. Not difficult, is it? They all involve time spent away from XFactor, EastEnders, donut-buying activities and any other insignificant way I can procrastinate.

Marrying Out of Money, my second novel, is due out on ebook/Kindle etc November 30th, and it is going to be a close-run thing as to whether it is ready in time.

There are so many important aspects of publicity that I am ignoring, because I am tied to my desk (before and after hours, thanks to my day job) writing, fine-tuning, and generally freaking out.

Luckily, the paperback version of the title is now scheduled for mid-2011 (phew), which does give me some time to drum up decent business, but still, we all know how important it is for authors to get out there and spread the word. Instead of spreading jam on a toastie, which is about what I am managing these days.

On a brighter note, Naked in Knightsbridge is selling well on Kindle - a nice surprise, especially since I expected loads of returns when people realised it wasn't porn. As chick-lit authors go, I am pretty sedate when it comes to bedroom antics (literally, and in an authorship sense!). I suppose too much gooey stuff bores me, so I prefer not to include it.

So that's it for now. Apologies if I am a little down-beat. Must be low blood sugar!

Best,

Nicky.

Friday 25 June 2010

Summer, novels and cellulite

It’s difficult enough to motivate myself when it’s cold and there’s no other option but to stay inside and work, but all this lovely sunshine is creating problems for my deadlines. I mean, I could work at an outdoor table, if there was an outlet for my laptop. I could bring a spare battery for my laptop, I suppose, but once I’ve loaded by bag with pastries, er . . . suncream, sunglasses and newspaper, it’s so heavy that I need one of those ditty little Ikea trolleys to drag it around. By the way, in case you are wondering, I am one of those people who buy a coffee and sit in a café, then sneakily consume cheaper, taster fare from elsewhere where the baristas aren’t looking. Come on, don’t judge me - I work in publishing, for god’s sake! Besides, last I looked, macaroons et al are in short supply at those generic cafés around London.
So, with the Marrying Out of Money deadline looming, I need someone to come and tie me to a desk, preferably in a dark closet with no tempting sunshine to distract me.
And before I get a mail from that guy with hair lip, limp and questionable morals, not you! But I am available for a date at that café by the Serpentine if you’re paying.

Tuesday 8 June 2010

A taste of the new

For all of those who have been asking about Marrying Out of Money via Prospera's Twitter and website, here is a snippet of what it's all about. Only a snippet, mind you, because thanks to my rubbish computer abilities, that's pretty much all I have.

Okay, it all starts with a rich coffee heiress questioning the dedication of her less than erudite, tree-hugging boyfriend, who is a member rockband 4BY4. The social climbing mother of said heiress decides that enough is enough, and hooks up with a poverty-stricken aristocrat to arrange a marriage between the heiress and a snotty, outrageously good-looking Harry Partington - 40th in line to the throne. Not surprisingly, for both parties, it's hate on sight. Still desperately in love with the rockstar, but with her beloved father ill and wanting nothing more that to see her married, the heiress sets about making herself so repulsive that the aristocrats decide a future on a derelict council estate is preferable to having her as a daughter-in-law. Of course, nothing goes according to plan.

Monday 7 June 2010

ME, MYSELF AND NICKY

So, as most of you may suspect, my true identity is hidden from the world-at-large. The reason, of course, is that should the world-at-large (read: those with little or no sense of humour) discover my serious daily persona actually hides a slightly deranged cake-eating chick-lit author, me and my reasonably large rear end will become too-well acquainted with a Jools'-style cardboard box in which to live. Well, okay, I probably won't get booted into a box, but certain people I come into contact with on a daily basis may be less than impressed with my schizo tendencies.

Having said all that, it is kind of nice living a double life, particularly as I get to admit to my hero worship of sugar without it affecting any stuffy board meetings. God, I hate those meetings. The ones where they lay out half-a-dozen tasty little morsels but every single woman in the room refuses one least she looks like a porker just released from a trough. Now, you'd think I would just tuck in, wouldn't you (given I have no self-control when it comes to pastries), but no, when I am not Nicky, I am serious, sensible, and even manage to keep the decibels on my stomach rumbles to a level only a dog could hear.

Luckily, I am becoming adapt at being Nicky for a good portion of the day now. Before work, lunch, after work. It's amazing how many cafes will let you linger over one cappuccino for hours. Well one coffee and four cupcakes, but you get the point.

So, that's it for Nicky now. Time to head back to tedium and statistics. I'll write again soon. But first, must really spend some time on Marrying Out of Money! Happy eating,

N.

Monday 17 May 2010

Right, I know what you are going to say. What on earth have you been up to Nicky?

It’s been weeks and weeks since we’ve heard from you. Have you been arrested for indecent pastry consumption? Are you over in Greece rioting for the sheer sake of it? Has the volcanic ash cloud left you stranded in some far flung place where the breakfast buffet makes it impossible to leave the table and do any work?

Well, like all good procrastinators, I have a more probable list of reasons for my slack behaviour (okay, the breakfast buffet would actually be reasonably realistic), but as it turns out, I don’t need them, because the unthinkable has happened.
I have lost a good portion of the manuscript for Marrying Out of Money.

Yes, you heard right. Nicky Schmidt, person with limited attention span for the niceties of office work, has somehow allowed three months’ work to vanish into the ether of evil computing hell.

What? Didn’t I back it up? Yes, of course I did. I am not so donut-stuffed that I forgot to take out my trusty USB and do the right thing. Problem is, I didn’t reckon on both my laptop and USB mounting a challenge against sanity and wiping the file I had stupidly saved as a wps. What’s that? you ask. Who knows? I reply. And why was it a wps file? Again, can’t really say.

Don’t worry, those questions have been asked by the publisher’s IT guys more than once, and you know, I can’t really give a reason that doesn’t result in the techno geeks rolling their eyes in frustration. Silently, I know they think if I spent more time learning about back-ups and less eating pastries we wouldn’t be in this mess, but people, without the pastries, I couldn’t churn out my work. I need sugar to make the magic happen. Well, until about 5 pm, after which time I need sugar and wine.

So, there you have it. The best excuse ever. Shame that it is, in fact, true. So I am off to rewrite numerous chapters of my new book.

And consume about 40,000 calories. Who says comfort eating has no positive effects?
Stay sane until next time, even if I don’t.

X Nicky.

Monday 25 January 2010

Hail readers of the Naked in Knightsbridge blog. So sorry I have been absent post-wise for the last month or so. Okay, I should have been busy writing, but the truth is I am actually quite lazy and adapt at procrastination, so over Christmas I committed to working but ended up doing nothing but socialising and eating. Now, despite the fact that I am still enjoying my daily cake fix a month later, I have now begun to work on my next book ‘Marrying out of Money’. Due to be released later this year, it is about a girl who is a little less pathetic than Jools in Naked, although I have ensured plenty of dubious character traits in other characters to keep my readers happy.

Anyway, sitting around all day eating cakes and writing is not exactly beneficial to my waistline. Whilst out shopping in my local supermarket some young guy approached me, advertising a nearby gym. He might as well have been advertising an eternity in hell with Satan and normally I try to avoid all eye contact with perky gym membership peddlers but I fell over one of my M&S foodhall bags and he was upon me.

“Do you exercise?”
“No,” I said, carefully replacing the six pack of cookies and jam and cream scones that had rolled from my stash.
“Well, maybe you should, after all, you’re a little on the tubby side, aren’t you?”
Jeez, did he expect me to agree with him? ‘Yes, I am huge, lead me to your gym.’
Instead I told him to hightail it to Satan’s parlour and leave me in peace.
“You know, pretty soon you’ll have to buy an extra seat on the plane. You don’t want that, do you?”

I was going to hit him with my M&S bags but they might have burst and that would be a waste of perfectly good food.

So, you see, we all have those days where Jool’s exploits seem so lifelike. Enough proscratination. Time to get back to working on my book.

Take care

Nicky xxx