I'm still here, in my married quarter, feeling like a bit of a fraud. My meeting with the publisher is in the diary, and I'm frantically trying to think up plotlines for the next book to present in a synopsis at the working lunch. My agent reminded me the other day, in no uncertain terms (I don't think she's the kind of woman who does anything in uncertain terms, actually) that 'the synopsis won't write itself, you know'. I do know. Just as I also know that I'm still teaching ESOL classes, running writing workshops, co-ordinating a volunteer project, and undertaking research for the arts centre, as well as looking after three kids (admittedly, not looking after them terribly well, under the current circumstances).
No, I'm not complaining at all. But the transition period from army wife to novelist does seem to be a teensy bit busy. Never mind. I've had lowlights, highlights and gel nails done, so I'm starting to look the part of a novelist, even if I still haven't written the synopsis-that-won't-write-itself. What's more, it's the wives' xmas party tomorrow night, which will be my last ever function in the sergeants' mess, where it all began. I'm going to wear the same dress that I wore to my first ever function in the sergeants' mess - more years ago than I care to share with you (oh, alright, about seventeen years ago). Luckily, thanks to the whole book deal suppressing-my-appetite phenomenon, I can still fit into it (just about)! Cheerio xxx

Hey, I'm not an army wife any more! I am, however, today, a stay-at-home wife. Not one, but two ill kids (two out of three ain't bad, as Meat Loaf would surely comment, were he here with us, watching old episodes of Dr Who and taking regular doses of Calpol). Twin 2 has earache and Twin 1 has a really bad tummy ache, which has now been going on for 12 hours - I'm paranoid about appendicitis, so she's off to the doctor later on (I know, it's probably just constipation, but I'd never forgive myself if she got peritonitis whilst I was telling her to just drink some water and have a big poo). And I'm waiting for my agent to call. I hope she doesn't ask me to meet up with the publisher tomorrow or anything, not sure I can cope with being a glamorous novelist after almost no sleep, sharing a bed with two poorly nine-year-olds. The good news is I'm so uptight (about the book deal and the appendicitis) that I'm not hungry at all, so hurrah for an impromptu fasting day with almost no effort on my part - need to lose weight in anticipation of all those chocolate tree decorations... Righty ho, better go xxx

Two bits of news...as of today I'm no longer an army wife. Hubby starts his new career on Monday. I'm also starting my new career, as an author. I'm slightly flabbergasted by the whole thing, but my very lovely agent appears to have pulled off a blinder and got me a two-book deal. I'm still in a married quarter, though, and still have the army wives' xmas function to go to (couldn't miss the delights of one last night in the sergeants' mess, could I?), so I'm not signing off quite yet, but nearly...xxx

hi, how has your half term been? We've been to London, which has sucked the very life from my bones, in the way that only London can. Great fun, but exhausting. Saw some lovely friends, who were all remarkably tolerant of Twins & Son.
We also did the V&A, the British Museum, the Olympic Park, Hamley's and the theatre (Hubby said now we're middle class we should blooming well act it, so we had our night out 'up west' - what with that and the trip to Hamley's, which resulted in the purchase of two over price Build a Bear toys and a pair of LED thumb covers (!), we can no longer afford the new hoover we need..). l also met my agent who, after our tea and lemon tart, remarked, "Well, you didn't disappoint", which l guess is a good thing. She also showed me the leather jacket she has promised herself when she nails us a publishing deal (l didn't mention that any advance l get will be spent on a G tech air ram super hoover) Always good to be incentivised, no?
Right now l'm on the narrow boat, chugging back to our mooring. Poor Hubby is on the tiller, in the rain. l have offered to take a turn but he says there is no point two of us getting wet (phew). Might make him another cuppa though.
So that's been my half term.
Only two more weeks as an army wife!
Take care xx