Tuesday, 31 December 2013


That's it really - Thank you to all my loyal readers and also the intermittent ones. I hope you have had a few laughs at my expense and otherwise.  It's been fun.  I will try to keep blogging but (thankfully) Dascaragh and the gang (you'd understand if you'd read my book - honestly) are kind of taking over my spare brain space, and they are more than welcome - having them back, soaking up even dream time, is brilliant.  I knew my scary girl (even scarier than my daughter and sisters) couldn't leave me in "peace" for too long.

If you read  anything in 2014 and you like contemporary fantasy/science fiction try out Chris Ward's Tube Riders trilogy - he's been a real help to me, and after you've read his try out mine "Two All- All for One" and my short story "The Paper Samurai" - I won't bother linking it, you only have to look it up on Amazon if you're interested.

Have a great 2014 - all the best,
Big Dxxxxx

Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Seasonal Felicitations.

Ho ho ho - well, the presents are bought, the turkey is rotting slowly in the porch (coldest part of the house - no way that gigantic fecker was going to get into the fridge), and the halls are decked with spikey vegetation.  All that's left is to hope that that I only get a lump of coal in my stocking because if Santa deems me to have been "nice", I'll puke.

I love Christmas, always have.  Only two things annoy me about Christmas: Christians banging on about the "real meaning of Christmas" when they clearly ripped off a pagan winter festiva; and women on the radio (probably the TV too but I don't see that very often) banging on about "all the hard work involved", the horror and strain of cooking Christmas dinner, the preparation, the this, the that, blah blah blah.  YOU ARE MAKING IT HARD WORK ON YOURSELVES! Do you really think your family and friends will reel in horror if you don't stuff your brussel sprouts with anchovies eyeballs; if their isn't a dash of angel's tears - only available to purchase at the Marks and Spencers on the top of Mount Everest - in the gravy.  They couldn't give a stuff! I love doing Christmas dinner.  The first part is very very important though - opening MY bottle of champagne, after that - all's good.

Well, have a most excellent one, dear readers.

Saturday, 21 December 2013



My short story The Paper Samurai has gone live on kindle - here's the link:

Just thought I'd let you know, so that you know that just because I'm not blogging doesn't mean I'm twiddling my thumbs. Chances are, I'm actually knuckling down to actual story writing. 

So, am I all set for Christmas?  Your darn right I am - I've been ready for ages.  It's another symptom of my innate uncoolness that I CANNOT  leave things to the last minute. I envy people who can, but then I also want to punch their lights out for the smug assumption that the stars will align in their favour!  Yet again! No, I'll stick with some part of me assuming fate may vomit on my schedule.  Doubt if I could change anyway, not without actively making myself hold off, and I expect if I tried that, my eyeballs may explode with pent up anxiety - and that's just not a festive look.

Well, have a lovely Christmas and New Year.  I will, as my darling daughter, Ciorstaidh, is home from Uni (she made me say that) :) And if you have a spare hour and a spare 77p, why not download my latest offering.

TUNE: http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=leanamh+and+aigh+-+coisir+sgire+a+bhac&sm=12 - had hoped to be able to post a link to the choir (including ME) doing the Gaelic version of Child in a Manger but it isn't on YouTube yet - this is lovely though - dispite the lack of my own dulcet tones :)

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear - and A FREE PROMOTION!

Hello people of the world  - how the hell are you?.........oops......there I go, using my foul language again and offending the masses.  Yes, this week I got my first bad review for "Two All - All for One" and it was because I have a potty mouth/pen/laptop keyboard/mind.  The lady in question didn't really have anything to say about my story, just that my use of profanity (my word - not hers) was, she suggested, "gratuitous" - definitely her word and not mine (I know, the wee inverted fellows gave that away, sorry).  You see now though, I'd disagree,  I'd say it is the way certain characters in my story were brought up, and that their hard lives are reflected in their hard language, 'cause not all of them are sweary folk at all.  The reviewer even said she tried to quote some of my text (which would have been totally out of context) but it was so rude (or something) Amazon wouldn't let her - "that says it all" she says, with a note of truimph.  Quite right, Mrs - you stick it to......me; I'm a menace to society; I am all that's wrong with the world today; I suspect I even love political correctness ( I do - it's called manners) and that I don't think health and safety has gone mad (ermm, not mad exactly, a lot of it's very sensible and the "nanny state" is the result of us becoming as litigious a society as the US) - see, I knew it - I appal myself!!

Now, unlike most of my characters, I'm a right sweary wee bugger, and I have no excuse!  My dear Mother used to give me an ear bashing for even saying so much as heck and she NEVER swore (unless you count the very rare "bloody"), and my Dad (sadly no longer pacing this planet - he's partying on another zone, these days) would muster an: Ocht, to hell!  if, say, his cracker landed butter-side down on the dog, but that's about it, and, yeah, that actually happened - once at least - and it was a hairy Jack Russell, not even something smooth coated where, bearing the five second rule in mind, he might have got off with it. So, my own personal penchant for the vernacular is a bit of a mystery really.  But there you go.

Anyway, as a result I no longer have five lovely shiny gold stars - I have 4 and a half, but that's okay because thanks to some lovely people, I have six BRILLIANT reviews for which I am eternally grateful and made-up to hell about, and with this new one - my one star one - no delicate flower is ever going to accidentally download it again and have to reach for the smelling salts. 

If you'd like to know just how offensive my book is, it's on a FREE PROMOTION  this weekend!!! Fill your boots, me hearties :) (the blue bit above, that's a link to it by the way).

Yours, Big D

PS: I've got my cover for my short story - The Paper Samurai, and just need to get it proofread then I'll be sticking it on kindle, too and d'you know what - there's barely a swear word in it (well, there's a bloody and a couple of bastards, but that's it!) 

Friday, 29 November 2013

The Trials and Tribulations of and Idiot

Today, I got on the wrong bus home.  No biggy - you city/town dwellers might say - YES BIGGY!!! I live on a freaking island and I was on a bus destined for the other side entirely!  I could have been stuck in the back of beyond's back of beyond. Marooned and desperate with no mobile phone, I may have had to resort to drinking my own urine, cannibalism or even knocking on someone's door and speaking to a person I didn't know - THE HORROR.  Mind you, I've seen enough Bear Grylls to know the answer to the problem would have been to take all my clothes off, pixelate my bottom, then run down a hill really fast and jump into some freezing, icy water.  Okay, your right it wasn't a biggy, especially as I could have just sat tight and eventually after an hour or so, the bus would have ended up back where it started and I could have then found my actual bus home, possibly by standing in the correct bus stance this time.  SHUT UP! There are four to choose from, all clearly marked - anybody with an aversion to reading signs or paying the slightest bit of attention to their surroundings could have been confused. Hmmmm, the fact that I didn't know anyone on board should have been a give away but as it was the usual familiar selection: two old ladies blethering; a weary young woman going home from work and a smelly, wee, old, drunk bloke trying to make eye contact (yep, pulled again - she shoots she scores) lulled my barely conscious state into a false sense of security.  I was distracted. I had been wrestling with a plot issue all day, off and on, which I had just about resolved and was scribbling in a notebook when I looked up and realised I didn't have a clue where the hell I was.  Ah Lordy.

Still, I'm home now.  My resolved issue is NOT resolved so I nearly wound up miles from home for no good reason.  Tomorrow I will attack the issue of gods and men and the Cascaroch from the safety of a chair in the kitchen.

Yours, Big Dxxx

Sunday, 24 November 2013

Jane Austen's Dick Joke.

" Her father was a clergyman, without being neglected or poor, and a very respectable man, though his name was Richard - and he had never been handsome." Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen (1803).

That's a dick joke isn't it, or am I missing something?  That's got to be a dick joke.  First page, too.  The saucy mare.  It can't be - can it?

I quite like a bit of Jane Austen now and again - when I feel like a little light romance, usually after something Zombie apocalypsey or deranged serial killery.  I did try a modern romance recently, it was okay - but what mostly put me off it (apart from it being cheesy as hell) was instead of saying that the hero and heroine kissed, the writer would insist on using the phrase: "he took her mouth" or vice versa each and every time! Eowwwww!!! TOOK HER MOUTH?! The question that sprung to mind was - where too and why didn't he take the rest of her?  Nah, give me Jane Austen any day. 

Not all of them, mind you - you won't catch me at any re-enactment society things in a muslin dress and big hat going: "every word is a treasure - I'm sure you agree". There was one I started there a couple of months back called "Mansfield Park" - man! I thought I would go insane with boredom - so I cast the brutish tome into the fire....and then remembered it was on my kindle............ and then that we don't have a fire anymore.  So I picked my kindle off the floor and cast the brutish tome from my carousel and into the cloud, without  so much as by your leave, if you please, so exercised was I by the imprudence of her packing in more unnecessary drivel than even JK managed in "Harry Potter and the Deathly Borings" (which possibly did make it into the fire - probably what put the chimney up once to often for my liking - hence the no fire thing *sigh*  - I miss all those firemen).

Northanger Abbey is good though - she has a fantastic go at intellectual snobbery and there is also a really funny section where, instead of just saying that a particular suitor to our heroine was THE most boring cretin ever to crawl out of a swamp, she describes the subject matter with which he is trying to woo the young lady - namely the low down on the carriage he has just bought: it's splash guards, the wheels, the place for swords; then moves on to how fast his horse can go, how good his dogs are at...being dogs? And then on to how great he is at shooting and how he can show everyone a clean pair of heels at anything, and everybody thinks he's great. Hmmm - the passage of centuries has not changed some things - boring is still boring. 

Right, I'm off to take my own mouth and the rest of me off to go and get on with some sequel writing.  See you later xx

TUNE:  Has to be this :)

Sunday, 17 November 2013


Doesn't time fly when you finally remove your finger and get on with your sequel! I've tried various ways - as you know - to squeeze it out of hiding and then to make myself sit down and do the typey typey bit - but to no avail.  Yet again, it's thanks to a song that I've got going. It's been on my ipod forever, but when it popped around on a shuffle the other day, it was a bit of a eureka moment - like S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W was for Two All.  I'll tell you what it is at the end.  I just stick it on, and I'm in the zone, ready to go.  Hope it doesn't wear off - I've ordered the CD the song is on just to give it some backup.

News: I've joined the Back Gaelic Choir.  Okay, so now you are imagining something angelic with kilts. Well, last time I was in a Gaelic choir, many moons ago, my over-riding memory is of waking up on some stone steps outside one of the Victorian river front hotels in Inverness, at about 4:30 in the morning.  I could hear the ceilidh (that's a party with kilts) still going good guns inside, and I was disgusted - nay - mortified, by the condition I found myself in: I still had money in my purse and the bar was open! So I lurched back in - probably with my own kilt on sideways - it is, if I recall, de rigueur to have one's kilt side-ways, if not backwards, by that time in the morning, when attending the Mod.

 Note: The Mod is a week long party with kilts held somewhere in Scotland that thinks it's hard enough, with competitions in Gaelic singing and poetry and the pipes and other things of that ilk.  It's a  kiltfest.  Cheeky people have been known to call it the Whisky Olympics - I quite like that myself.

I don't know what happened the next day, by the way - I'm not sure there was one. 

That was a choir from long ago, who, by all accounts seem to have been amateurs compared to these guys - in every way!  And guess what, the Mod is in Inverness again next year! Oh man!

Tune: Psychosocial - Slipknot.

Saturday, 9 November 2013

Stuff, Snipers and Ghosts :)

Sorry I haven't been blogging - I've been a bit tied up and not in a bondage sort of way.  It wasn't that someone handcuffed me then had a heart attack, and I've only just chewed my way through the pink furry cuffs and dragged myself to the computer to blog.  No, it's more tied up in sort of a living kind of way and nothing even interesting... okay, one thing was a book launch........but not mine. And it was really quite annoying because although the author was interesting, the audience - or at least elements of the audience - were so irritating: laughing too loud at his jokes or nodding over vigorously at his observations. I know I can be a tad tetchy at times, but I really was wishing I had sniper on radio contact high up in the balcony at some points, and with a laser pen, I'd just point at whoever was bugging me: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" - bang- bump - gurgle - sorted - smiley face.

Yep, so I have been working on writing stuff - "The Paper Samurai" is with readers as we speak and "Rise of the Dark Heart/Awakening of "whatever it ends up called - my "Two All - All for One" follow up - is plotted, sorted and doing my nut in because there is so much of it and I desperately don't want it to be confusing but since it involves the creation of worlds - it's going to be, unless I write it ....right.

Okay - boring stuff over - what's been happening - well not much not even a ghost this year.  Did I tell you about my Tolsta ghost - probs have, well in case not here goes:

There I was out for an early morning run  - I don't do them anymore because my daughter, Ciorstaidh, said they might be the reason I keep having problems with my right leg (my bad leg)"morning shock" - she's at university so I tend to believe whatever she tells me although, given my recent experience with spinach - due to her recommendation - where I ended up thinking I had bowel cancer - I'm not so sure anymore.

Any hoo - where was I, early run, ghost day - oh yeah - well.... beautiful morning: freezing cold, sky so full of stars it couldn't even have been called black and shooting stars, so many shooting stars - if wishing on those buggers had any truth behind it I'd be writing this from writers re-hab in America somewhere by now. I came running down the hill (ocht - you know the one I mean - behind my house as you come towards the school) and as I came towards said school, a very tall, very thin man, who I could see through and who looked very raggedy, strode across in front of me. He was quite oblivious to my presence and went on his way, between two house to the moor beyond - he was in a hurry, definitely had something he needed to do or to get to.  Well, I'm a wee guy (4'10") and not exactly of an athletic build so my forward momentum had taken me to the bottom of the hill before my morning brain had even got through the sentence "WHA THE FU!" and there was no way these wee leggies were hauling themselves back up to see - given that I had already gathered that it was a ghost and he wouldn't exactly be hanging about for autographs.  Doubt me?  I walked that way to work a couple of hours later - just to see and there was an electric fence strung right across where he went - if it was a person he'd have had to jump, or at least break stride - he didn't - and if he was a carrier bag, as my husband suggested, then he wouldn't have had a face, legs and arms.  That was my second ghost.  Looking forward to number three. :)

TUNE: THE BROKEN RAVENS  - SCARLET WAVES - a Stornoway band who are VERY GOOD -  and only available right now on Soundcloud and I don't think I can figure out how to link that :)

Have a great weekend, love, Big Dxxxx

Friday, 25 October 2013

The Beaded Curtain

Today I bought a beaded curtain.  I don't often buy stuff to decorate the house - I'm much more inclined to buy stuff to decorate me. I put it down to the time of the month - yep - it's nearly Halloween and people might visit. 

Anyway, the beaded curtain.  We have a door shaped gap between our kitchen (the old part of the house) and the utility room (part of the extension, which includes a shower room and our bedroom) and I have always felt it needed something. Something like a door but not a door because a door would have cut our bedroom off from the rest of the house, and we may not have heard the children's screams for help in the event of a disaster - for example: a zombie attack. Their cries for help echoing through the house could have been just enough to alert us to the danger, giving me and Cal adequate time to leg it out the back fastish, an actual door may have muffled the sounds......... it's what they would have wanted.  So until this very day, the door shaped gap has remained just that.

But the gap has now been revolutionised - albeit in a kind of retro way.  This event, however, has caused near hysteria here.

 If you have read my blog before then you probably know I live with three men. Frequent readers and friends will know that this is nowhere near as cool and bohemian as I am inferring, since the men in question are my husband and two teenage sons - of whom, one is a man, one's on the cusp and one's a manlet - they are all; however, most definitely male. The introduction of the afore mentioned "beaded curtain" - oh, and a wholly innocuous rug on the other side of it - was certainly enough to make that clear. One is trying to pretend it isn't there; one wanted to know what it felt like when he was nearly nude and the other is pretending it is made of acid!! And I thought the cats were going to be the problem (my cats couldn't 'get' how a cat flap worked and I had to remove it -ffs). I presumed Sydney biscuits, who regulars will know as the family idiot cat and tic collector, would be the problem - he, in fact, has been the most Zen, my wee female, Jack Kirby, is so scared she's been hiding behind the couch since I put it up.

IT'S A BEADED CURTAIN - IT'S NOT A DECORATIVE ARRANGEMENT OF COBRAS NOR A SNIFTER OF THE WORLDS MOST LETHAL POISONS FOR US ALL TO HAVE A TASTE AND TELL SESSION WITH - IT IS NOT EVEN A DRIED OUT MONKEY'S PAW. IT IS..... it is a beaded curtain -  all I ask is someone walks through it normally........oh, hello......... one of them just has (fully clothed).........well that was............ dull............harrumph.

 D'you think Argos do a Decorative Arrangement of Cobras - 'cause this novelty has gotten old fast.

TUNE: Coroner for the Police - Shot Benny

PS: My short story "The Paper Samurai" will be available on kindle soon :)

Friday, 18 October 2013

My Big Fat Chubs and Their Effects on the World

Picture the scene - if you will - and only as long as your tea has passed beyond the point of no return - your personal event horizon, as it were: I've just bought a new outfit - skirt and top. The skirt is everything I've ever wanted in a lower-body, non-trouser garment, as in - it's  size 10, black, long, top half down to the hips is black suedey stuff and the rest is a sort of pleated tulle-y sort of thing with a lining (okay, that sounds terrible - it's not - at least - if you're me, it's not) and the top I got is...too hard to describe but it's nice - it's black with wee black beads around a pretend V-neck with a straight inset so you don't flash your boobs at the world.  So, I'm standing looking in the mirror (it is a crappy cheap mirror I bought years ago when we were broke and has a warp in the middle but still an' all):

Me: Looking good there, Big D.
Body: Thanks Me - I think so too - we're pulling this off nicely.  Think we may even showchase this bad boy off at work on Monday.
Me: With the pink fleece socks we have on right now, or should we go with a laced-up boot?
Body: Me thinks a laced-up boot or even...boots.
Me: Nice one - good choice.
Inner Thinking Me  - in a nasal, snivelling/stab-you-in-the-back voice: (Yes, but you're standing up)
Me and Body: Your point being? (dickhead)
Inner Thinking Me: (Well, I'm just wondering...)
Me and Body: Yeeessssss (ah, get on with it)
Inner Thinking Me: (Well, what does it look like when you're sitting down.)
Me and Body: I'm sure it looks just...............OH DEAR GOD NO!!! - OHHHH FOR FLIP SAKES!!!!!!!!!WHERE DID THAT LOT COME FROM!!!!  HOLY MOTHER OF MACKEREL!!!
Inner Thinking Me: (Maybe not then.)
Me and Body: ??????????????????????????

Yes, as we know (cause I'm always banging on about it) I like to run, I'm fit as a flea - so where the hell do all those chubby bits come from?  They weren't there when I was standing!!!  I sit down and - WHAM - tyres that could keep even the Faroees off slaughtering whales for years. - god, I feel practically endangered - but stand up again and...wee wifey....sit down....whale wifey....fuck sakes!

Luckily, as per, I purchased my new outfit in a charity shop. Charity shops are my purchasing outlet of choice (for non-food items).  To get this straight - I'm not broke - I don't shop there because I have to, I shop in charity shops because (in no particular order) : a) it's recycling b) it's cheap and I can make mistakes c) there's a chance I might find something I like (see earlier description of skirt) and d) somewhere along the line someone might be better off for me having done so.

The garments I purchased might have cost ten times what was originally paid for them but the skilled person who actually made them (either here or abroad) probably got paid a fraction of  that original price. However, maybe, just maybe, me and other charity shop buyers can make even the tiniest bit of amends for our horrible Western consumerist ways by buying them back again from charities who want to help........
............there is something so wrong in all that, isn't there. It's the fact that hard working people with families to feed, like us, have to get help from charities whose money comes from the very people who have caused those people to require help in the first place -  flip sakes........

......................................... OH LORDY! THIS IS HARD!!.......................................................
AND maybe by supporting these charities, I am, inadvertently, relieving governments(including ours) of  some of the responsibility of looking after their own people, and as such, am perpetuating the corruption in the countries within which these products are made.........


.................................................................. I'm such a dick!!!!..............................................................

(deep breath) As my Dad would have said - Ocht to hell!  And as I can't see the world's governing bodies clubbing together to wipe the economic slates clean and start again - all democrat and free-speachy, no cheating by selling addictive drugs that grow really well in one climate but not another etc; all big old pals together, I suppose me and my lardy, over-privileged, Western spare tyres will just have to carry on as we are.  -
Bastards - see - it's the world's fault my new skirt makes me look fat!

Tune: Ballad of Hollis Brown a Bob Dylan song done by Rise Against (my darling boys).

Saturday, 12 October 2013

Running, Reincarnating and Ruminating

Today was beautiful.  Were it not for the less than balmy temperature, one may have been fooled into thinking it was summer.  I still loused out of doing anything in the garden - and I used to be so keen around the old backdoor flora - working has had a seriously bad effect on me. 

Not that I was working today, apart from locking up at 5pm.  Nope, today I had a most delightful run (15.65km) out through the village; over the Bridge to Nowhere and up to the waterfall - where I couldn't resist paddling about in the water. Then back via the Traigh Mhor - a long stretch of beach - one of three we boast in the village...well, not "in", on the edges of it - in would be too weird even for us.

Sadly, I came across a dead dolphin or porpoise, not sure which, that had got tangled up in a the rope of a marker, poor wee soul.  I understand it has been there a while because someone locally came across it last week and called the SSPCA who were less than chuffed as it was long since swimming in celestial seas or been reincarnated as something nice - I'm presuming something nice as I'm not sure you can get evil dolphins who might warrant a life as, I don't know, a sheep (well, it doesn't look much fun being a sheep to me!).  Followed up my gruesome discovery (actually I was centimetres from running THROUGH it - that would have put trainer cheese into perspective) with a run down into the waves.  My body was going: No! fuck off - I'm knackered - I just want to get home and die!  But my head had other ideas, and paddling about up to the knees in icy Atlantic breakers was number one on its list right then.

Ah well, even my body had to admit head had got it right this time as I stood there with the sand shifting under my feet and the sun all around, watching the seabirds force early reincarnation on fish.  It was just the business, certainly enough to get me all the way back up the hill past arguably (if you're feeling hard enough) the most scenic graveyard in the world.  I do feel the view is a bit wasted on the occupants but I shouted hello to them anyway - thankfully none of them replied - there's only so fast my poor wee leggies can go!

Final stretch is back along the main road to the house. I slapped "Welcome to the Black Parade" (My Chemical Romance) on my ipod and raced the lads to the last note - it was a tie (they were cheating and playing faster than usual, I swear).

By the time I made it home the boys (I include my husband in that) were quite distraught! What with all the paddling etc, I had been gone ages and it was nearly lunchtime and they were hungry!!  Only joking!  Not sure they'd noticed I was out  :)

Tune: http://coronerforthepolice.co.uk/"Same Old" (thanks Andrea :))

Wednesday, 9 October 2013

"Put Another X on the Calendar. Summer's on it's Deathbed"

Twas a dark and stormy night....then a dark and stormy morning and then there were flashes of sunshine that looked embarrassed to have intruded and beat a hasty retreat to leave a dark and stormy day.

Winter is knocking at the door.  No more feeling guilty about not weeding; no more looking at the grass getting longer and longer; no more ticks on Sydney Biscuits (huh!) - no more excuses.  Actually, since last I blogged I have been quite productive: I've written a short story.  It needs a damn good tidying up and proofreading but hopefully, Two All - All For One might have some company on my kindle bookshelf before the end of the year.  I've also plotted Rise of the Dark Heart - that title isn't staying - it doesn't work.  So far I have some new characters, including Egt Dreth Caill - who isn't really new, Isidra and The Desolation; I've also got two opposing creation myths, oh and someone who is talked into believing that being described as a total wanker is a good thing.  Also some of the old gang are back - but just not all of them. 

As for sales - well, the free give aways have been good but I need more reviews to get actual sales going.  I know that some writers send copies to people who review books but that sounds terrifying. Especially as someone I know who did that got absolutely slated because the person they sent it to just didn't do the genre.  So I'm just going to sit back and hope some of the kind souls who have downloaded it, see their way to reviewing it.

The title of this blog is from a Panic! At the Disco Song called "The Calendar" from their CD Vices and Virtues

Saturday, 28 September 2013

Running, Writing - and why I'm a Lazy Bastard - except in the shower.

It's odd how I didn't realise before that I have to be more disciplined with my writing, given that I know that in order to become a runner I had to go out whether I wanted to or not, until I reached the stage when I wanted to run (which is now)  but it was two or three years of absolutely making myself. 

I suppose the difference is why wouldn't I want to write: one doesn't pull muscles, get really sweaty and unattractive to even the most myopic of observers (so saying, doing my sex scene in "Two All blah blah" gave me a bit of a beamer - to translate, a red face) and the need to don supportive under-garments nor even to warm up is generally unneccessary. It must just be in my nature to skive off anything - even the things I like - as some absurd act of rebellion; preferring instead to just go around with my headphones on in a mad wee fantasy world. My conclusion, from this piece of personal scrutiny: I'm a ludicrous, immature, lazy bastard. Harsh?  No - entirely fair - I take my personal critisim, and I would file it, but instead I will scrunch it into a ball and lob it at one of the kids :)

I ran my best run today - it's not earth shattering - but it was 10:45 miles (that's 16.82km) in 1 hour and 50 mins.  Tomorrow I will write the next chapter of Rise of the Dark Heart - the plot of which took an inspired twist from where I had planned to go in the shower yesterday (my best thinking place - maybe because I'm only half awake).

Tune: Opposite - Biffy Clyro.

Have a good weekend.

PS:  Two All - All for One is free again tomorrow and next Saturday - either that or it's free today and free again next Sunday - can't quite remember which and am too lazy to check :)

Wednesday, 25 September 2013

Trying to be Disciplined

Well, going out was fun - coming in, however, proved rather bad for my health. There I was bending down to unzip my boots, as any good citizen would before retiring to their boudoir, when I smashed my face off the wash hand basin so hard I didn't have a hangover the next day - I had concussion, no I really did!  Oh, and my mobile phone turned up in the garden (?)..............hmm, maybe the moral is I should have stayed out.....maybe not.  Anyhoo - that's that nonsense out of my system for a few more months.

I'm trying a new thing re my writing: making myself sit down at the laptop for an hour minimum - no excuses about work load, or I'll do it long hand in bed (which is fine for notes but not the proper thing because when I go to transcribe I never follow what I've written anyway). Nope, I'm going to try being  disciplined to see if that stops me skiving off. 

It worked last night (first night of the new regime) I got my prologue down for Rise of the Dark Heart (take 1,000,000)  and lo, I was pleased with it.  So tonight, soon as I've finished this wee note, I'm moving on to introduce a very important new character: Egt Dreth Caill. And in a further effort to be more ordered, to inject some method to my madness, if you will, I am going to make Fridays - doing my other stories day.  I have a few unrelated short stories I'd quite like to bang out but haven't, and when I say bang out - I wish - dare say I'll take an age writing and re-writing them too :S

Right - I'm off to do this - "Lead on MacDuff and damned be he who first cries 'Hold! Enough'" - or something like that :) 

Friday, 20 September 2013

Going Out

I'm going out - me and some of my dear friends from the village are going on "the mad one" as my daughter would have it.  Black eyeliner has been applied - then re-applied because it just wasn't black enough - hair putty has been worked through, then touched up with some red spray at the tips and enough hairspray to have kept the most flaccid 'do in place (it's the Western Isle people  - it's probs a bit breezy out there, and I don't drive - so I reckon this wee bit of environmental vandalism is off set by all my walking).

Last time I went out I won a black pudding and a bottle of gin and left my handbag in a pub. Hmmm, will try to behave this time (*snigger* maybe) - ah, come on! last time made for a bloody amusing blog  - if I say so myself.

We are going to the relaunch of the Stornoway nightclub "Era" - I reckon they've probably just turned the beer mats over - but we'll see :)

Night all - be bad,
Big D xxx
Oh Tune: Green Day - American Idiot

Ohhh and PS:  My book http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_0_12?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=dorothy+ross+maciver&sprefix=dorothy+ross%2Caps%2C188 "Two All - All For One" is free again this Saturday and Sunday :)  - that's free as in no money - what have you got to loose, you might like it - if you do  - PLEASE write me a review if no just keep your gob shut weirdo :)))))))))))

Thursday, 12 September 2013

Pride, Falls and Beasties

Last week I got a big bunch of flowers and tokens from my Post Office bosses for the way I had dealt with our recent connectivity issues, which was very nice of them - considering how many poor sods I was having drowned in emails for the sake of our few customers.  On the same day I was told I would be getting this from the PO, a wee man in the village rushed into our shop/Post Office and wrote his nomination for the  Tolsta Citizen (or should that be villager) of the Year on a piece of paper and proudly showed me that he had nominated me.  I was well chuffed as you can imagine but, as we all know, fate has a way of fucking with us that only fate can - fate hates a happy smile - fate's a sanctimonious, hard-faced bitch: the very next evening I discovered I had head lice. 

Now you can tell me till you are blue in the face that they prefer clean hair, but I had beasties, bugs, nits, I had f'ing LICE - and I was not a happy camper and so, with a vengeance only comparable to that of a loving god, I nuked the nasty wee life forms with stuff from the chemist, following it up with a good solid skull-scraping with an actual fine-toothed comb. Vengeance was mine - aha ha ha!

Two days later, on the Sunday a lovely sunny day - I decided to take a chair outside and do some writing  (yep, still at the endless-scribbling-in-many-notebooks stage - grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr -  or rather, back to that stage, as I thought I had got started then changed my mind). 

I had not sat for more than a few minutes when my head started itching.
                                            WHAT THE HELL!!!
Jumping from my chair, I looked around -  they were all over the back of it and I ran for the house (would have been yelling but it was Sunday so I internalised), and Calum (Mr Unbound) says they're all over the back of my t-shirt (my favourite Rise Against t-shirt!).  And so the expunging began - again: my hair, his hair, our bedding, the jacket I'd had on (as they were all over the collar of it), favourite RG t-shirt. Then other clothes were getting checked and that's when I made a discovery: they're were loads of them on a jacket that nobody had worn for ages in the cupboard where mine had been - THEY HADN'T COME FROM ME TO THE JACKET BUT THE OTHER WAY AROUND! HURRAH!!!!!.......... flaming heck......by now most of my house was squished into the wash machine set on a million environment melting degrees for the longest setting known to man.

I still don't know what they were; I googled them all afternoon, after fumigating the offending cupboard and throwing out some stuff - but they weren't lice.  I know this because, in the course of my googling, I discovered that lice are so picky about what they munch on that apparently a human public louse wouldn't even trade places with a human head louse - wonder who, figuratively, looks down on who?  Anyway they're gone - I am no longer being poked with sticks by my nearest and dearest and I have removed the hazard tape from around the coat cupboard.  Sydney Biscuits (the cat) is still being kind of smug though every time I pull him up for having a tick on him.

Tune: Billy Talent - Hanging by a Thread :)

PS:By the way, I got the Citizen of the Year thing - the cup stands pride of place on the shelf in the kitchen - alone in it's glory.......... since I swept the kids crappy trophies into the bin. Parent of the Year is next I expect:)))

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

My Daughter, Goddesses and a Friend

Apologies for not blogging, in case you've noticed and have felt like a void has opened up in your life because I haven't been bitching about something: life has been busy and I've been using any spare time to work on book 2.

One reason for the busy-ness was my daughter was home from uni for a long weekend - I know this because the house smelt nice and the post-it's on my computer desktop were fraped (as it were).  There I was scanning them to see what I needed to remember to do and one said: Note to self: stop being a loser.  Hmmm, clearly the work of herself as I have no intention of stopping being a loser.

Another reason is I am still utterly embroiled with that certain Telecommunications Giant - although I may actually be getting somewhere now.

Anyway, better go - book stuff . I'm looking into creation myths/stories and the characters involved, for inspiration and have found some great beings: the Cherokee (I think it was) Spider Woman and the Greek and Roman Queen of Ghosts but I particularly liked the Mayan Goddess always depicted, it says, decapitated, wearing a skirt of snakes and lacerated hands -  hmmm - I think I know what my Christmas outfit is going to be! :)

PS: My dear pal Andrea -  Boxes and Bellows - has asked me to mention why she is not blethering at you - she is currently using her special secret skills to keep the staff at the local hospital occupied - don't worry, she's just malingering and will be back sooner than you can click a shutter.

Friday, 23 August 2013

Terminology - a Rant, by D.Ross MacIver

Terminology is a marvellous thing - it is the Emperor's New Clothes of vocabulary.

 "What can you possibly mean by that, Big D, old bean?" saith you.
 Although what you are probably saying is:
 "Well, diii - d'you only just notice?"
 The answer to that would be: "OBVS NOT! - I've known it for years!!"

The truth, however, would be that I have never been bombarded by so much as I have over the past week since my poor wee Post Office fell foul to the doubtless antiquated network of cables etc that a certain telecommunications giant (heretofore to be known as TG) think will "do" because it's all we should expect given that we have to audacity to live on an island.   

I feel for the poor TG engineers. I was talking to one I found in a hole at the bottom of my garden.  There he was last Friday, 6:30pm, holding something that looked like an intergalactic spider that had been in a fight at the Clachan:  all bits hanging off it; and he didn't have a clue what was going on with my PO - he was busy trying to get some other poor bugger in the villages's phone up and running because it had been off for days.

So, yes terminology -  the first one used during this debacle,  and one I confess to enjoying using on anyone I think may not fully understand what it means is "re-boot".

Lovely People (absolutely NOT sarcasm - after this week - they've been keeping me sane) at out PO Technical Support: So Mrs Unbound have you tried re-booting the system.
Me: No, I can't, I'm wearing shoes today. D'you think the original booting I gave it could be the issue?
L.P at T.S: ?????????????
Me: OH!!! You mean - have I switched it off then back on again :)))

(I've made up one of my own; have even boiled it down to an acronym: MAPUS
Manually applied pressure to the surface unit - I didn't do that though - honestly).

But the terminology crown has to go to a phrase used by TG today - it seems that after 8 days my dear little Post Office isn't working because our "ticket's stuck".

Well, flip me!!! Why didn't you say so before, TG!!!! That makes everything clear.  No wonder I can't so much as post a freaking parcel!  Our ticket's stuck - ha! should have guessed really........

 PARDON!! Our what's what! What the hell does that mean!

Lovely Person at Tech Support (who are doubtless thoroughly sick of hearing my deep booming voice by now): (pause) - yeah, I was kind of wondering that myself.

This phrase has now been passed along various tiers and levels of PO people and hierarchy because PO Counters are taking my plight very seriously - all sorts of High Heidens are involved and have probably been googling like crazy to find out what and where we are.

So that's what I mean about the Emperor's new clothes; someone from TG supposed to be giving an update on our situation used this phrase, and the person at the other end didn't like to point out that to us regular Joe's it meant bugger all - in effect was meaningless and; therefore, as a piece of information rendered invisible.  But the thing is, it would have been used with such authority that whoever was assailed with it didn't like to suggest they couldn't see the information that "our ticket being stuck" was allegedly imparting.  I like to think that the illusion may have worked had it not been for me having no qualms about appearing like an idiot (anyone familiar with my dress sense will be nodding) - thusly, what we have, instead of an accepted acceptable reason for my PO being off, is a statement revealed to be plain, naked, gobbledygook. 

To be fair and just, however, perhaps it is the case that this is a phrase that any old employee of TG would recognise and understand, and it is only us uninitiated in their mystical ways that are left struck dumb.

It is a better reason than the one they were originally trying to float which was that we lived in a remote location and getting an engineer to us was difficult .... as one of my customers said yesterday: "We haven't been remote for 50 years!"  So, my lot at the PO end of help lines were picturing this, rather than the reality: this  (okay - I might have exaggerated a little).

The plus side of the past week was finding out what a useful bunch work for out local parliamentarians. They have been most helpful with regards setting cats amongst pigeons.  Next time I feel it's even raining too hard, I will be calling them.

Oh, and one last thing - one of the people dealing with my situation has the best job title ever: The High Level Complaints Gatekeeper - that is so cool - if you take the complaints bit out.  Don't know about you, but I'm picturing this!!!

TUNE: My Chemical Romance : I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

Thursday, 15 August 2013

Happy Birthday to Me

Yep - it's my birthday, according to the dates I have on facebook, I'm 81 - nice - I look flaming awesome for my age, if I say so myself :)  My Mother is 80 - she quite likes that her youngest daughter is a year younger than her :)


Today - aged 47 I walked to work singing the following song - well mouthing vigorously (out loud would have been a bit mental) I decided it was really time I stopped giving a single toss:)))))

Try to stay still listening to this :)

Fall Out Boy - Young Volcanoes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rwnmbJ_nGQs

"We areeeeeeee wild we are like young volcanoes!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Scotland V England - football.....

Don't even expect me to be dismissive - all I can say is I wish, right now, I was German or Peruvian or from anywhere else because the marrow in my bones hurts  - AND I'M NOT EVEN FREAKING WATCHING ..............

Sunday, 11 August 2013

Temperamental Brethren - a quicky

Two things I noticed this afternoon: the word "temperamental" (for anyone that's read my book - I think you can guess who that was referring to)  has far too many letters in it - it should be "tempremental"; the other one is "Brethren" - which comes up quite a lot because of a shifty bunch of lads who have turned up in the sequel I'm working on, their full title being "The Brethren of the True Word", as opposed to their opposite numbers - "The Disciples of the Lost Word".

Every time I type Brethren, I type it "Bretheren" which is supposed to be wrong but clearly isn't.  So, what I thought was - how about we all agree - by way of compromise -  (and I think I'm being pretty generous here) to make those two words spelt "tempramental" and "Bretheren", thereby just swapping a couple of letters about. What d'you think??

We Are A Grandmother - again.

Well not really...well... not at all, actually. I think the chances of me being related, even very distantly to one of my hens are pretty slim. Although, we do have the same piercing glare when I think about, but I've never pecked anyone; possibly because I don't have a beak.  So, no - thankfully none of my actual offspring have sprung a surprise on us.  Our dear hen, known as "Roadrunner" - so crazed a beast that you need gauntlets to get near her if she's nesting - has got six tiny chicks - we thought it was seven but she demanded a recount and it was six.  Probably, knowing my luck it'll be another six cockerels and I already have more than enough of them marching around the place, 'doodling. And I've noticed they can never let anyone else - either one of their brothers or any other cockerel in the village - have the last word - so dawn can be a fairly protracted affair.

Roadrunner isn't the handsomest of God's feathery creations, I'll grant you, but she's looking worse than usual here as she is sick of me taking pictures of her and is getting ready to strike like a beaky cobra.  But the chicks are the sweetest things ever :)

Thursday, 8 August 2013

Kicking the Queen in the 'nads,Tweeting, FBing and Blogging

Right, okay - cards on the table - this blog was set up as a vehicle by which to promote me, and by so doing, inspire blog readers to read my book when I eventually decided it (my book) was perfect.

 [I read that was what us "indi" writers [saddo, loser-self-publishers] were supposed to do these days. I've read allsorts of  stuff.]

But then I realised that was going to be never (the getting the book "perfect" thing) because I could have carried on tweaking, forever.

 [that comma - the one before "forever": I read in an old grammar book that one should ALWAYS place a comma before, "forever"  so if I don't now - I feel like I'm kicking the Queen in the bollocks, I really do, ("too" is another one). I've become quite neurotic over grammar's quirks, but I still can't get my head around commas [oh, and there's another: I can no longer write "round" unless I am referring to a spherical object.........ffs]  (and yeah, I do also know these squarey brackets are for scientific stuff - but..........I like them.) [ ].

I also started tweeting like a fiend for the same reason (mini blogs) - self-promotion. Got loads of lovely followers, which was nice, and "met" some lovely people like blog follower and author Terri Tyler. But I can't keep up with it - all it seems to be is reams and reams of people trying to promote their books, which is fine but how much use? So, in an effort to see, last weekend I promoted my book by quoting one of my fabulous reviews and made zero sales on the back of it. However, free promotion weekend, I got nearly 200 books shifted. Hmm, me thinks twitter is a no goer for that and all that's happened is I can no longer get feed from people I'd like to hear from.  Twitter is one big series of adverts for me.  Facebook now - that's my friends telling me to piss off and stop dicking on about my stupid book (no one has actually said that - but I'm waiting) - enjoy the honesty and also the knowledge that I know where the bastards live...........

May no longer bother tweeting, but I do love blogging - it's like a really satisfying sneeze.  So, although I was talked in to it in order to promote Two All - and although it is seriously dying on its feet - will keep on blogging.  Thank you for reading - will try not to be too hideous  :)

TUNE: We Are the Ocean - Machine (played at Belledrum very recently - would love to have seen them)

Saturday, 3 August 2013

Words, Vitimin Tablets, Water and a bit of Biffy

Wrote 4000 words today, pretty pleased - well when I say "wrote" what I mean is transposed from my long hand draft, but then as I never stick to the script it doesn't count. Lordy, I will be very lucky if this doesn't take a hell of a lot longer than nearly three years like Two All.

A really funny thing happened this week - actually three plus really funny things happened this week.

Number one was that I started taking these well-womany vitiman thingy tablets because the doctor suggested it might be a good idea - won't bore you with why. Started taking them Friday before last and on Sunday morning pinged out of bed cleaned the fridge, rearranged the cupboards and wrote like a fiend all afternoon - and it wasn't bin-fodder (just as well as the bin was full of all the out-of-date crap from the fridge and cupboards - oops).  Considering taking the well-man tablets now because I could really do with erecting a selection of shelves, rustling some cattle, fighting  and mayhap growing a beard so I could find out what my actual hair colour is because I've forgotten - my mother romantically suggests chestnut - I'm thinking brown - yuck, I'll stick with too-old-for-it black :)

Oh yeah the funny things, well, a couple I can't tell because I am a responsible Post Mistress and confidentiality regarding everyone's affairs is my by-word - well, unless that person is me - obvs *snort*  - you're reading my blog!!

But this was really no.1 funny thing - so I went to the loo, as you do - I'd done all the shop bills and sorted invoices and reckoned I had an hour to work on my follow up to Two All (The Rise of the Dark Heart) and before starting I thought I'd arrange a wee cup of tea (green, of course) and a pee (not green - hopefully), so there I was - hygiene central myself, turning on the tap for a post-pee decontamination (don't know about you, but I've never pee-ed on my hands - any whoo) when the tap fell apart in my hand - in bits:

                                            WHOOSH!! WATER EVERYWHERE!!!

Now, this is quite a confined space, and I was wearing a quite confining skirt  into the bargain, and in my haste to get on I hadn't quite returned it to where it should be, so  there I was with one finger stuck in the tap hole and the other wiggling my favourite Gothic Rockabilly skirt into position while being sprayed sideways by the tap. What am I going to do!  What am I going to do! And  my lovely My Chemical Romance poster up in the loo to cheer me up if things aren't good, was getting soaked!  In the end there was no other option - I removed my friged digit and ran for the phone, ran back, replaced reluctant fore finger ( "I canna do it, Captain" - "You freaking can - it's what you were made for, my son.!") and called Paul : the conversation went thusly:


Poor fellow thought it was some sort of extreme, overly literal rough wooing but like the man he is,  he girded his loins and came anyway, after saying: "Put towels over it!" - "I don't having any freaking towels - stamps I have - towels - in the zero column!" - "Oh bloody hell" ( he's from the north of England so that was pronounced how it looks). 

Well, the upshot was a flooded back shop, one soaked Goth Rockabilly Post Mistress (trying for Steampunk but it's not always easy to wear and still handle sacks of coal - I've gotten my time piece caught in one too many boot-closing related incidents, and without my hat and goggles I just look weird :)); one soaked shop Chairman called Paul and a extremely cool and laid back neighbour and former Post Master, dearest Neil "Beag" MacKenzie - whose spring, which we share, I had just emptied. Twas Neil himself who pointed out where the stop cocks were (link? tempting).

Sorry I can't tell you the other stuff, but it doesn't star me making an arse of myself - it stars other people so...............

Have a good week and know your stop cocks (pheowrr!! one for the ladies!!)

Tune: Talking about "one for the ladies" here's:  Biffy Clyro "The Captain"

Thursday, 1 August 2013

My Disability


Mostly because I never figured it out: swerve this, don't run into that, heavily bumping over things is bad, just because they were old doesn't make it okay - RULES!!!! 

My last driving instructor, Donnie Macleod - he of Donnie Macleod School of Motoring, Tolsta - was the best ever: at NO point did he throw himself out of the vehicle screaming; at no point did he start praying (audibly) AND when I pointed out I could not only not see the pavement in my rear view mirror but that only the sky was visible, did he scream: GET OUT OF MY VEHICLE FREAKISH DWARF WOMAN - which was a refreshing change.  We did have our differences, like when he thought I should "over-take" (as I think "term" is)  - a static bin lorry (the man's crazy!!) or when he thought that going over 40 miles an hour wasn't going to make our skeletons crumble to dust - lol!!! :) (dude needs to read the  science book c 1870 - it's all there).

 At 4'10", I am - indeed  - on the short side, the only disadvantage that I have encountered ( apart from finding driving a bit of an issue which I think has got a lot more to do with attention span and over active imagination than stature) is that I have a rather early on-set bunion from standing on my tip toes all my life to try and see what the hell everyone else was looking at.  Other difficulties are nothing a well placed chair, an ability to sew, a ladle (short people will get that) and a bit of imagination won't take care of - oh and being a bit bouncy.I I

 And not driving - phimf - means I walk everywhere or wait for stuff - so I'm fit, and I have time to contemplate - how bad is that. I can also be hugely smug about my environmental foot-fall.  I see all the beautiful flowers on the verge on the way to work and I give caterpillars time to get to the side, I don't just squish them because I don't see them, and nothing , nothing has ever died on my windscreen or front bumper:)

Hypocrisy disclaimer: it was raining tonight when I finished work and I wasn't suitably attired so I called my dear friend Joan - wife of Donnie "Bravest Son of the Road" Macleod to take me home - there's a time and place :)

Tune: The Used - Crawls like a Worm from a Bird.

Friday, 26 July 2013



How mental is that!  Let me copy and paste it for you, my dears:

Unique, funny, poignant and a great read, 26 July 2013

Amazon Verified Purchase(What is this?)

This review is from: Two All - All For One (Kindle Edition)
If you like something different and brilliantly written, you'll love Two All - All For One. I don't know if this is the author's first novel but I haven't come across her before. Anyway she's a welcome addition to my list of favourite authors.


Now I've figured out this copying and pasting thing you speak of - here's my others - (this is so fun - it's like school prize giving where you actually get something - speaking from someone from the vintage where it was not required of the staff to come up with a reason for every idiot to get a prize: "and for being able to walk up right, mostly - the prize goes to..... " - who'd be a teacher now you can't belt the little ..........clearly it wasn't a profession I ever considered.  My hat comes off to the patient sons of bitches).

5.0 out of 5 stars Great stuff, 6 July 2013

Sam Deane (Stornoway, UK) - See all my reviews

Amazon Verified Purchase(What is this?)

This review is from: Two All - All For One (Kindle Edition)
Near-future political drama with more than a dash of the supernatural, this is an excellent debut from a new Scottish author. Plenty of dark humour, a nod towards Brookmyre, perhaps even a hint or two of the much-missed Mr Banks, but definitely an original voice for all that.

Well worth checking out!

5.0 out of 5 stars Great read, 3 July 2013

Amazon Verified Purchase(What is this?)

This review is from: Two All - All For One (Kindle Edition)
It may be somewhat bonkers but I really enjoyed this book. Very engaging I think one would say. Top marks for Dorothy

OKAY - THAT'S JUST HOW GREAT MY BOOK IS!  Flaming heck............all I can think about is pride coming before a fall - that is so protestant of me, or Scottish, or female, or human or something............
My friend Chris Ward - he of the Tube Riders trilogy, as previously linked, told me you know when you're doing well when you get your first bad review because it will be from another indie author who's bitching.......man......dreading that first one, will have to try so hard not to fall into a pit of despair from which I would barely claw my way out. And even if I made it, I would be a shell, nay, a membrane, of my former bullish self.  Ah, feck, probs a good thing, character building and all that. NOT!!!

Have a good weekend y'all, as our cousins in the Deep South would have it.  I, personally, will spend the weekend making people I know hear me recite my newest 5* review, as I did with my others :)

Thank you Andrea, Sam and now Rosedew :)))

TUNE: Fall Out Boy - The Pheonix

Help other customers find the most