September wasn’t quite as I’d expected – a mellow month where summer wound down and I geared up to a season of writing-related activities. In fact, it turned out to be the worst month in a long time. It was the month I lost my father.
Those who know me will know, and those who don’t just need to read Touched by Light to realise, that my father was a huge role model in my life. Peryst de Arranu was my dad if he’d lived in Ankisua and had been a monster hunter.
In real life, Dad was a nomad at heart who left the land of his birth at 21 with my 19-year-old mum and a baby: me. We lived in Australia for ten years, where he did all sorts of things to make a living. One of my first memories is of him driving his lorry down our street and beeping the horn so I could wave. We lived in Chile for the second decade of my life. I got off his ‘moving train’ a couple of years later, in Madrid, and stayed. But Dad went on to the US, back to Spain, and then back to the US, where he ended his days. When he wasn’t moving countries, he was moving houses. And when he was doing neither, he was planning a move. Somewhere. Anywhere. Soon. I remember preparing to move to South Africa, to Argentina, to Switzerland, and to Brazil, amongst other places. He’d plop the atlas on the table and show us where we were going next. Very young, I realised that the atlas wasn’t a concern and that I only needed to worry when the boxes came out.
He was adventurous and brave and, like Peryst, lived according to his principles. He stood by them even when everyone said he was crazy. That happened a few times in his life but he stood strong and made the decisions he thought were right. He wasn’t a loud man but had a wicked sense of humour. He made his devastating comments quietly in the background. You just had to listen.
When I think back, I remember the big things and the small ones. The most valuable lesson he ever taught me was that it was an act of bravery to change my mind and follow a path different to that expected by those round me. It has allowed me the freedom to live my life as I think I should. And I’ll always be grateful for that.
And then I remember the times when he stepped in to save me from myself.
First, in my early twenties when I got my heart thoroughly broken and was in the kind of depression you can only be in that situation, he invited me to Ireland to find his father’s documents. We travelled from Dublin to Wicklow and along the southern coast searching for the documents that allowed him to claim his Irish citizenship of which he was so proud. I had my first Guiness that trip and grew to love the smoothest of whiskies, the wonderful Bushmills. And Dad got thoroughly tired of listening to my Pogues and High Kings tape, which I played on repeat in the car.
A few years later, when I was living alone in Madrid, I had a traumatic break-in and woke up with a burglar in my room. I was very lucky. I wasn’t hurt physically, but was mentally scarred. And I was very stupid. Instead of finding the help I needed, I began staying up all night to avoid sleeping in the dark. It was a bad time that could have got a lot worse as I spiralled, but Dad stepped in. He called me to say the family was coming back to Spain. He came early and invited me to share a flat. It was a pretty special six months. I slept again for the first time in ages and was able to heal while feeling safe because Dad was there. We both had demanding jobs but shared a coffee in the morning and found time to perfect our roller-blading skills together and enjoy spring in Madrid.
In later years, when he was in the US, I saw him less, but Christmases were always together and there was still roller-blading, bike rides, visits to the beach, skiing, and a lot of laughter till Parkinson’s came along and took away everything he loved doing.
I was lucky that I came to Austin at the beginning of September and shared a week with him and Mum. It was a spur of the moment trip which I’m so glad to have enjoyed. And then later, when I got the call that he was in the ICU, I was at the Milford Critique week in Wales and left early to come over. I got to say goodbye. His leaving was sad, but not tragic. The tragedy came before, with that terrible disease. I’m sure he’s happier now wherever he is, without the body that no longer supported his dreams of moving to live by the beach in southern Spain…
When I sat down to write this newsletter, I could think of nothing else to talk about. But then I opened my calendar and looked back through September. And while my Dad’s leaving has tinged the month, other things happened too: good things. For one, Rule of Reason came out in print and Dad got to see it. The paperback is amazing and the hardback is so beautiful! I’m very happy with both of them. And this morning, I got the news that the box from the printers is on its way, ready for me to take a stack to Fantasycon in Glasgow this coming October!
Another good thing was an unexpected and wonderful surprise – a huge one for an indie author like me!
Touched by Light was found at a random Waterstones in London… ON THE SHELF. I was in Wales at the time so couldn’t go and see it for myself, but my husband went and took a million pictures and a video. It was such a great moment and one that justified the way too complicated system of indie publishing I’ve undertaken!
For those who don’t get why it’s such a big deal, a brief explanation.
The most straightforward way of indie publishing is through Amazon. But if you’re like me and love bookshops and libraries, you can complicate things and go through a local printer that has a relationship with Gardners. Gardners is the main book distributer to bookshops in the UK and when entering into an agreement with them you open the doors for your books to make their way onto a shelf in a bookshop. It makes the whole process more complicated and stressful, but the joy I felt at seeing Touched by Light by the books of so many other authors I love, has no parallel.
And then came the Milford Critique Week at the Gladstones Library in Wales. I’d been to the retreat last May, but the Critique Week is another animal. Fifteen authors send in a 10,000 word submission which is analysed and critiqued by each of those attending. The custom is to bring stacks of chocolate to give to the person in the hot seat, to soften the blow. We all ate A LOT of chocolate.
I debated long and hard on my submission and finally went full circle: I sent something I’d written at the Milford retreat last May. It’s a short story with Golfen as the main character. For those who haven’t read Touched by Light, Golfen is a Rohinian, a little man who rides a goat called Rosie and who becomes great friends with Peryst de Arranu. I wanted Golfen to have his moment and played with comedic touches in the tragic world where the Hand of Reason is beginning to spread its terrible ideology in northern Mehru.
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the Critique Week and coming up to it I was in turns terrified and excited. And despite having worked with two very thorough editors, I wasn’t sure whether I’d enjoy the experience of having fifteen people taking turns in critiquing my work.
We sent in our work beforehand, so I’d been reading the amazing submissions of the others for a few weeks. They were all very different and all very good, which made me doubt myself even more. On arrival, it was a very interesting exercise to put face to submission, and I quickly realised that all were talented, supportive, and there for the same thing: to become better at what we do. And little did I know on that first day that these would be the people who would pick up the pieces of me so gently and kindly when I learnt my Dad was dying.
In the end, it was a fantastic few days. I loved reading and analysing the other submissions. Every single one was a great read and while I wasn’t quite sure how ‘to critique’ I soon learnt that there is no one way and that each person will focus on something different. That’s how it was with mine. I got incredibly varied feedback, both positive and negative. Some people loved Golfen’s story and some hated it, but even so, the feedback – when I get round to editing – will make it a much better story.
I loved the experience and will definitely be back for more!
And while at Milford, I found out that Touched by Light had been reviewed by Mark Bilsborough in the Wyldblood magazine of Science Fiction & Fantasy (number 18, of May 2026). I had no idea he’d done so and the review was just wonderful. It’s always moving for an author to find that somebody has liked your writing and taken the time to say so.
After reading the review, I read the rest of the magazine and then subscribed to it. On days when I’ve got a lot on my mind, I like a short story at bedtime: something that ends and doesn’t keep my thinking about what happens next. Each story in Wyldblood was great. I fully recommend it!
I spent the rest of September in Austin on the green chair that every hospital has. And when still hopeful, I finished editing Shadow of the Hand and then moved onto reviewing the formatting of A Meeting of Minds, the novella I will send to all of you – the companion to Rule of Reason and a love story of sorts: Anil and Klaust’s.
Also, from the waiting room in the hospital, with really dodgy wifi and constant announcements from the loudspeakers, I participated in Spotlight Indie’s BIG WEEKEND.
I came across Spotlight Indie by chance at Eastercon when I met one of its members and then attended an event they ran in Shrewsbury. Writing is a lonely business, a nerdy one, and one that’s difficult to share with those you love. It’s hard for them to understand that you don’t care less about them when most of your brain lives in a fantasy world with a bunch of made-up characters that do what they want. And even harder to get that writing is a compulsion that you cannot let go of and that many times, you’ll give up things to write, because you just HAVE to. Hanging out, even virtually, with those who understand that and who, as indies, are doing the same one-person marching show that I am, is so lovely.
The panel was fascinating – Building Cultures & Societies – Karl Thompson, Adam Basset, and I in conversation, moderated by Alex Bradshaw. We could have gone on and on talking about the aspects of worldbuilding that ticked for each of us: different, of course, like every time you get a bunch of writers in a room. One hour wasn’t enough to talk about maps, politics, how much description is too much, geography’s impact on our worlds, and when it’s fair to bend the rules by introducing magic!
Finally, some news on book 3. For those who are desperate to know what happened with Maia, Shadow of the Hand is coming. It’s currently with my editor for a final proofread which will doubtlessly bring up typos and small inconsistencies. But they’ll be small things to fix. And the cover is getting there. A small peek below. The interior image is done and I love it, but Fakel, my wonderful cover designer, is working on Maia’s silhouette, to give it more depth. Hopefully, I’ll have the final version soon.
Oh, and another thing. I heard from a reader who, like me, follows the text of every book he reads with the relevant map. My old copies of the Lord of the Rings still have folded photocopies of the map inside, which I kept open as I read and tracked the Fellowship’s progress.
For him, I’m including below the official and final map for the series. It has a few new towns added which will appear in later books. With it, all those who read like I do, can follow the travels of Peryst, in Touched by Light, Raf, in Rule of Reason, and before the end of the year, Maia, in Shadow of the Hand. Enjoy!
And, for those who only read my newsletter to hear about Echo, I can report that she’s well and healthy. My daughters have been looking after her while I’m away and they report that she’s thriving in the lower temperatures and cheerfully wanting to walk for miles every day while gracefully bowing her head at her growing fanclub in Madrid.
While here in Austin, I’m getting my Dane fix with the lovely Eliza, who, like Echo, reads my books. 😉
And there we are. May October come easier!
Stay safe and keep reading!