The author's birthday wishes!

Today is my birthday.  To quote Samantha from 'Sex and the City': 'I'm forty-fucking-five!'.  What would l like for my birthday?  World peace?  Well, that's a no brainer, we all want that.  Maybe I'd like my twenty-six year old body back.  That's not realistic, but I did a work-out at the gym today.  I have a school reunion coming up this year, and like many people I guess, I want to look my best.  I have this fantasy that my old school chums ('chums', hah!  I'm definitely sounding old!) will each bring along copies of my books for signature.  I have a fantasy that the kid who used to shit me to tears won't show up.  Who knows, maybe in the thirty years since he left Year Ten he's developed a brain.  The class bully will be there.  This will be interesting.  Of all the women in my year I've spoken to about this upcoming reunion (I'm on the committee and this involves tracking down and making contact), not one of them wants to see her.  It's a buffet type dinner, so she will grab her plate and take a seat, and the other women from my class will all congregate en masse at the other end of the room.  The guys will just sit between us and her, hopefully providing a buffer.  Some of the women expressed trepidation.  I know I have some when it comes to the old school yard.  Hey, show me a fifteen year old girl, and I'll show you a bag of issues.  One of the former prefects was hesitant, and this was a girl who gave every impression she was confident, and she was also popular.  But it's been an interesting journey of self-discovery, this business of organising a reunion.  I often thought I would never go to one because I considered myself something of a screw-up at school.  People I've contacted have told me they always liked me.  Wow.

For my birthday, I want my two young sons to stop misbehaving.  They were told they were not to make Mummy cross today, and they agreed.  Well, they've broken their end of the bargain, and the flow-on effect is that Mummy's broken her end, too, because she is cross.

For my birthday, I want everyone to buy my books.  Another no brainer for a writer.  My novels are: an adult satire about a young woman who gets arrested for a crime she may or may not have committed, and her life becomes a media circus, and her dysfunctional family have to cope.  It is called 'Calumny while reading Irvine Welsh' because her friend lent her a copy of the novel 'Trainspotting', and all shewants to do is finish the novel and get her life back. 

My other book is 'Abernethy' which is young adult fiction about a fourteen year old boy who is befriended by a beagle who, by virtue of having worked as a witch's familiar, has the power to comunicate with certain people, one of them being young Billy.  Abernethy, the titular character, becomes Billy's mentor and friend.  It has been favourably reviewed by http://www.australianreader.com, so you guys can read it there, if you wish.  I've even played the nepotism card trying to get a review and publicity.  A second or third cousin to me, as it turns out, is an editor at a major Australian newspaper.  I sent him an email the other day about this, and pointed out I'm Facebook friends with his aunt.  Unlike young Peaches Geldof (Sir Bob's daughter) who claims her famous name has not helped her (liar!) with her fashion designing, I don't mind admitting I'm pulling family strings.

Read the first chapters of my books at the publisher's website.  The publisher is Zeus Publications, and they're at http://www.zeus-publications.com

There's a former Aussie pollie who's trying to have our national anthem changed to a song written by a Sixties pop singer called 'I Am, You Are, We Are Australian'.  I have never heard this song without having the urge to scrounge around for an object with some kind of an edge, no matter how blunt, and slice off my ears.  It's a horrid song, and if it becomes our anthem, I'm emigrating to New Zealand.