…the scariest Author project I’ve ever undertaken…

Seumas Gallacher talks about his newest writing project and I’m sure we all experience him being unusually serious, but as passionately as he always is – and I’m convinced I’m not the only one wishing him all luck in the world for this project! ❤

 

Seumas Gallacher

…it’s not often this ol’ Jurassic Scots scribbler gets the ‘wobbles’during a project… my life to date has thrown up some seriously frightening interludes… more than my fair share, I guess… some of which were not of my own making, but others, well, were entirely a result of decisions I made independently… I don’t think any of us knowingly makes bad decisions… often decisions are seen later to be wrong, and other, better decisions are made to correct the previous ones, and so…  that there have been tons of ‘highs and lows’, ‘colour’, and ‘drama’,  is not in question… indeed it would be a very dull life for any of us if there were no ‘roller-coaster moments’… emotionally, financially, career-impacting… the usual life experience suspects… however, of late I have pondered, prevaricated, procrastinated, and then plunged headlong into an effort to record my own life story… or…

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…wondering what I’d be when I grew up, I never imagined this…

Seumas Gallacher tells us what he wanted to be when he grew up. Thanks for a great post, Seumas!

Seumas Gallacher

…the WURLD frequently moves in mysterious ways its revelations to unfold… when I was wee… really wee… back in the glorious Dockland, Govan slums of Glasgow, (yes, Mabel they WERE glorious… we knew NUTHIN else as kids, and by and large were content with our lot…), I went through a series of ‘what-do-I-wanna-be-when-I-grow-up?’ cycles… the earliest recollection of career ambition as a child was to be a drummer, mostly born out of being press-ganged at the age of six to play the role of the Little Drummer Boy in the  primary school Christmas play/presentation of the stable scene…

…sumb’dy had fashioned a pair of drumsticks from two bits of wood, and armed with those and a toy drum, on which it must be said, my lack of coordination resulted in only one drumstick being battered constantly against the top of the drum in step with the beat of the

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…Jack Calder, past… Jack Calder, present… Jack Calder, future…

Our ‘ol’ Scots Jurassic scribbler’ Seumas Gallacher, leads his Jack Calder to a new path. Go friend!!

Seumas Gallacher

…if there’s anything this ol’ Scots Jurassic scribbler has learned in ten years of producing his wee literary masterpieces is that NUTHIN stands still in the publishing industry for long, whether that be in the realm of the self-publishing tribes, or the mystic corridors of the ‘Large Houses’with stables of contracted authors… like many of us, I’ve dabbled, and more than dabbled at times, with self-publishing eBooks on Auntie Amazon Kindle… with paperback printed copies through the slalom of censorship in the Middle East, involving hand-to-hand combat with head buyers at the major retail book distributors in this part of the WURLD… engaged for a short while with a small publishing house… experimented with an agent arrangement for an equally brief spell… both of these latter experiences ending with amicable partings of the way… comes now the latest foray for Master Gallacherthe beckoning universe of…

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…being a self-publishing author… a ‘stigma’ I’ll gladly live with…

I love how author Seumas Gallacher describes his feelings on how to be a self-published author. In his eyes this isn’t necessary a “stigma”, it’s a blessing. Thank you Seumas. There is a reason why you’re loved around the world!

Seumas Gallacher

…it has been ten years, almost to the day, when this ol’ Scots Jurassic decided it was just ‘time to write that novel we all have in us’… what started as a personal ‘bucket list’ item evolved into an amazing scribbler’s journey, which sustains its magic for me to this day… I trudged the newbie author’s familiar road to literary destiny as so many, many others before me… letters to prospective agents and publishing houses… rejections by the sheaf-load… the first novel tentatively prodded onto Auntie Amazon Kindle… followed by the second, the third, and now #6 is Work-in-Progress… the realisation that the SOSYAL NETWURKS held the key to reaching out to a potential global readership… the building of a blog following… the learning curves (plural!) of proofreading, cover art, editing, pricing mechanisms… discovering various distribution channels… add in the continual scourge of piracy that criminally robs we…

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…Authors, are yeez serious about a series?… Tony McManus shares his views…

Seumas Gallacher hosts author Tony McManus who informs us writers about book series. Since I am working on a series myself, this of course, is of enormous interest for me. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Seumas Gallacher

…as a writer of a crime thriller series myself, my pal Tony McManus‘s WURDS are of more than passing interest to me…

BRINGING THE CURTAIN DOWN

Though it may be a well-written prize winner, a one-off book, a stand-alone novel, has little chance of commercial success in today’s reading market. The mass of readers wants recurring heroes, protagonists who return to deliver the goods of more adventures. It’s something a reader can look forward to and feel comfortable with. Series novels are the thing. And looking back, reading of the army of fans who followed Arthur Conan-Doyle and eagerly awaited his latest Sherlock Holmes treat, I feel it’s always been so. Now it’s big time.

Series novels are invariably thrillers in the crime, mystery and espionage genres. Some come about by accident. They begin with a single book, which is then followed by another, perhaps a sequel, and then…

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…age is not just a number… it’s sum’thing that’s earned…

Unbelievable, how my friend, Seumas Gallacher deals with age. Age… the monster that hides in a dark corner to one day unexpectedly jump on us. – Oh yes… it hits ALL of us. Not one person on Earth will be spared. And if that day comes for me, I can only hope I’ll take it with the same humor as this man!

Seumas Gallacher

…this ol’ Scots Jurassic scribbler considers himself immeasurably fortunate to have in a global SOSYAL NETWURK countless wonderful friends who p’raps are showing just a tad wear and tear…

…infancy, teens and a few decades thereafter have elapsed in my own existence on this planet… the early ambitions, hopes and travails of a lifetime and career are valued mem’ries… pensionable age arrived a wee while back… but here’s the strange thing… I rarely feel ‘old’… physically of course, the litheness and athleticism these bones and muscles once possessed as a young professional footballer, have faded a touch… ‘ambling’ has replaced ‘sprinting’ as the preferred mode of forward bodily movement… a once-medal-winning tenor voice struggles to reach any kind of upper musical vocal register (although, thankfully, the ability to hold a key remains intact, Mabel)… so, am I about ready to be carted off to the Old Writers Graveyard yet?……

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… ‘ad infernum aste slumberum victoriat’… yeez can’t beat a good hot water bottle…

A flashback into childhood to many of us! Who doesn’t remember the good old water-bottle? Even though I have to say, when I was a kid they were a bit further developed than the ones shown here in Master Seumas’ article. Ours already came wrapped into towel-like fabric or I remember our mother knitting a ‘coat’ for another one to make sure our feet didn’t melt away during the night.

Thanks for an amazing window into our past, Seumas!

Seumas Gallacher

…during conversation last night at dinner with some good friends here in the Middle East, where the current daytime temperature approaches 46 degrees Celsius — or 115 degrees Fahrenheit in old money — the topic sum’how arose of winter-time heating in Scotland… one lady in the party hails from that same good country as myself… we seemed to share similar experiences growing up, in council houses and slum apartments which boasted neither heaters nor air conditioning units… these were represented simply by ‘windows’, (and not of the  laptop variety)… my comedic God, Master Billy Connolly has often referred to his own infancy and youth in Glasgow’s Partick area, similar to my Docklands Govan upbringing, where coats substituted as extra blankets when the temperature in our bedroom dropped from ‘merely freezing’ to ‘arctic survival test’ levels… the Govan and Partick Scots, however, were not without deliverance… rubber hot-water bottles saved…

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