I am coming to the end of another book, and it is triggering all sorts of thoughts about my life. I went through transition some years ago, from a hairy rugby-playing 'bloke' with a beard to a plump woman with bobbed hair and a taste for print dresses. I went up to York a week ago, for what used to be the Cyclists' Touring Club's annual rally, and I rediscovered myself.

Just finished a conference by phone, and it was chaos. There has been a stabbing, shooting and murder-by-car at our Parliament, and many of the people I was talking to were in lockdown, literally. Everyone I know (including one member of the House of Lords) in the area is safe.

The new feature on Kindle allows an author to publish print-on-demand books. It's a bit of a faff, but I now have Cider Without Roses on sale in paperback. Remember, if buying, please do it through the BCTS link to generate some income for the site.

One of my favourite characters is a deep, loving man of fierce protectiveness and uncommon good sense. His name is Arwel Powell, and one of the best descriptions of him is as an iceberg, showing very little of the depth of his personality on the surface. He is based on a real person, a family member, and I found out today that the original for my character has just been given five months to live.

Words do fail me occasionally.

Well, it had to happen. As a state employee my pay has been cut every year since this government took power, and I am now taking home less money than I was in 2011. At the same time, available housing here is quickly snapped up by the well-off for "buy to rent", and with no controls on said rents they charge what they like and bump it up each year simply because they can. Their costs aren't increasing, just their avarice. My landlord has just put up my rent again, and it now exceeds 40% of my income.

Happy bounce indeed! Mandolin packed, cycle panniers packed, tent reproofed: tomorrow morning I am off to Shrewsbury yet again for four nights and three days of music!

Yay me!

For anyone interested in how life and art can converge, I have put some photos up on my author Facebook page (SAA Calvert) of the wonderful Kathryn Tickell performing at the weekend. Tall and lean? Tick. Fiddle? Tick. Long hair now red swinging about as she plays? Oh, very much 'tick'!

The new ad on the left hand side.

Just getting dressed to head on down to Brighton to meet up with Bev Taff. It is, of course, raining...

The black dog, for those who are unaware, was Churchill's term for depression. Well, it's standing next to me at the moment. Work problems are somewhat awful right now, and getting worse, and together with the PTSD and GID I am not doing very well. Not cycling, not even going out the front door except for work and to get food.

Writing has taken a back seat, as you may have noticed. The dog has me by the throat and won't let go. Normal service may or may not be resumed at some point.

http://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/unexpected-reac...

I said some time ago that I had never seen 'The Princess Bride', so a lot of in-jokes escaped me. It was shown on UK television recently, so I caught up with it on the I-Player internet system. I enjoyed it... but it was largely filmed on familiar ground.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-30399565

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/australasia/teen-get...

So there I am, working through a twelve hour night shift which is actually thirteen hours due to the end of Summer Time, and I get bored enough to stick my name into that search engine and see if anyone else has said anything about my books. They have.

Specifically, about 'Viewpoints' and 'Cider Without Roses'. What they have said, via Wordpress, is "Don't bother giving her any money, just download this pdf we've made"