Work, Rest, & Play

Okay, the last time we spoke it was the eve of CapCon, the large festival in Trinity Park in Ipswich. So, how did it go? For a start, it was hot. A sweltering, sweaty, sunny day, brought the visitors out but left me a damp exhausted mess with swollen ankles. Arriving at the park there was the usual event chaos. Some numb nuts had decided to pull up and unload their large van at the entrance to the trader’s car park thus blocking it so no one else could get in. The queue stretched, the sun scorched down, exhaust pipes rattled and throbbed, patience wore thin, and tempers began to fray. Eventually, a big burly bloke in a large tatty van behind me went to have a little “chat” with the owner of the offending van. I’m not sure what was said, but the van was moved pronto, and we all streamed into the car park.

We were in a small trading hall that had the potential to turn into a sweat box, but luckily the organisers had the wisdom to open all the windows and the doors on all sides so a breeze could gust through. It would have been unbearable otherwise.

We set up. This was a new-to-us event, so we had no idea what was going to happen. Three authors were sharing two tables, so a tape measure was produced to equally measure individual zones and tablecloths were shaken out and carefully placed to the nearest millimetre. We set out our wares. As it was a fantasy and sci-fi event I’d taken only Black Ice, The Forest, Lifesong, Erinsmore and Mage Quest.

The event began and people trickled in. It was a good morning. People were happy to be there and happy that it was a dry and beautiful day. After the rubbish start to the summer, I think we’re all grateful for every day of proper summer that we get. We chatted and handed out cards and sold books. It was a good morning for all of us but after lunch trade slowed right down. I didn’t sell any books in the afternoon, but events were happening outside and when I went to buy something for lunch, I heard a Taylor Swift tribute act going on. Kids were dancing and people were singing. It was a lovely family event.

Sunday. After the relative success of Saturday, I simply wasn’t feeling it for the second day. I hadn’t slept well — laying awake listening for the sound of Franki coming home after working late (more on this later) — meant when my alarm went off at 6:30am on Sunday, I groaned and lay there contemplating not going. But, never let it be said that Julia is one to shirk responsibility. Muttering curses, I pulled myself out of bed and stumbled downstairs.

Arriving at the park, I found the gateway to the trader’s car park firmly shut — despite the fact it’s supposed to stay open until 9 and it was now only 8:40. Annoyed, I drove all the way around to the visitor’s car park and then stomped across to the trader’s hall to find out what I was supposed to do.

There’s another way through, I was told. Just squeeze between the exhibit halls and you can get through. I stomped back to the car and went where directed. Sure enough, I could just about get my little Yaris through, although if I’d been in a van I might have removed my wing mirrors. As I drove into the trader’s car park, I saw that the gates had now been re-opened. Ugh, typical.

Expecting the same level of trade as the previous day, we awaited the first visitors eagerly — well, the others were eager, I was merely there, still not feeling it — but hardly anyone came to the trader’s hall — and those that did were as grumpy as me and disinclined to even talk to us about books, let alone buy any.

The day wore on. I bought a burger to cheer myself up. It was a very good burger. Pulled pork with two slices of cheese and wonderfully caramelised onions. It wasn’t particularly thick, but it was juicy and flavoursome, and I did feel better after having it.

The afternoon dragged on. All the traders looked fed up and some were muttering about packing up early, then suddenly, mid-afternoon, with only a couple more hours left until it closed, people flooded into the hall and began to buy. I’m not sure what it was. Was it because they suddenly realised that time was ticking by so if they wanted something it had to be bought pronto, or maybe they had done everything outside and had pennies to spare, or maybe they’d been thinking about it and decided they did want that Chewbacca t-shirt, Stranger Things Funko, useless bit of fantasy tat or even a book by a local author after all. Whatever the reason, we were grateful for it.

By the end of Sunday, I had sold more than I had on Saturday with a final total of 28 books sold in all. This was good and covered the pitch fee, the diesel, the cost of books, incidentals and left a healthy profit — which was mostly spent on restocking my inventory for the next big event, the Legends Comic-Con this weekend — so it was a worthwhile endeavour after all. It’s a shame they won’t be running it anymore, apparently, it simply didn’t make enough money.

I might have told you that Franki had applied for several jobs over the summer and was taken on at our local Wetherspoons. For non-Brit readers, it’s a large chain of pubs that are famous for cheap and cheerful drinks and food. Anyway, Franki was taken on to work behind the bar with a promise of between twenty and thirty hours of work a week. The pay is not bad, Franki likes their colleagues, and the work is relatively easy, it’s the hours that can be a bit naughty. Sometimes, their shift doesn’t end until one in the morning, and then there’s all the clearing away and the glasses to wash and stack. This can take up to two hours, meaning the staff don’t leave until three in the morning. It’s only a five-minute walk home but, of course, I worry about Franki walking home alone at that time of night. So far, there has always been someone to walk home with, but I still worry and don’t go to sleep properly until I hear them come in the front door. And then my alarm goes off at 6am and I must be up and either going to work or to an all-day live event. No wonder I am existing in a state of permanent exhaustion.

Work has been work. Long and busy days but being so busy the days do whizz by. I enjoy my job which is a very good thing for my mental well-being, and at least my hours have gone back to normal. I did find the three weeks where I was doing 39 hours were quite exhausting. And yes, I know many people work more than that but most of them are not 57 with thyroid issues, running a home single-handedly, dealing with houseguests for the summer, doing live events, trying to write and maintain an author career at the same time. I was utterly pooped. I don’t have any overtime at all during August so although the extra money is nice, it will equally be nice to have a bit more time at home, especially as Franki will turn 21 this month.

Speaking of money, I had a brown envelope arrive in the post last week with an HMR&C stamp on it. Now, letters from H.M. Revenue & Customs do not usually bear good tidings so I opened it with trepidation. But, to my delight, this one was good news. I was owed a tax refund of £468. Wait. What? Really? Yippee. If you do nothing, the letter stated, the refund will be sent to you as a cheque in approximately 10-12 weeks. If you go online, it continued, then it will take 4-5 working days. Oh, guess I’ll do that then. So, on my next day off I sat down at the computer and picked my way through all the security questions. Some of it was blind guessing and frantically adding up the years on my fingers. Luckily, I must have given all the right answers because they let me in, and I applied for my refund — which I received four days ago directly into my bank account — so yippee indeed.

I’ve also applied for my passport. And no, don’t get excited, I’m not going abroad on holiday. I need to register with HHRC to be self-employed for tax and I need to do it soon. My new job isn’t a PAYE one, I work for the practice on a self-employed basis. Yes, it’s a little bit risky in that I don’t get any sick or holiday pay, and they could get rid of me with no notice at all, but I wanted the job so felt the benefits outweighed this. But it does mean I need to do tax returns from now on. When I tried to register with the tax people, I found to my disbelief that I don’t have enough forms of ID to prove I am a UK citizen who can pay taxes. The fact I was born here, have lived here all my life, paid tax and National Insurance since the age of 17, own property, have received tax benefits, etc etc, apparently means diddly squat. I looked at the list of IDs they would accept. Driving licence, okay, yes, I do have one of them. All the rest were things like right to work in the UK visas, immigration certificates and stuff like that.

They would accept a P60 which I did get from my last employment with the bed store, but like most things in life, it was only accessible to me online. And yes, before you all shout at me, I did download it — onto my old laptop which then developed computer dementia and lost everything. By this point, I was no longer working for the bed store so I emailed them asking ever so politely if I could have a copy of my last P60 emailed to me. Like a petulant jilted ex-lover refusing to return stuff left in their house, they denied my request, sending me a rather sniffy reply stating that as I no longer worked for them there was no legal obligation for them to do any such thing. Okay. Calm your panties, dear.

This left me rather stuck. To prove I am a UK citizen I needed an ID that wasn’t accessible to me. I checked the list again; they would accept a British passport. So, to be able to register as self-employed to be able to fill in a tax return showing that I do not need to pay any tax because I am not earning enough, I had to pay £13 for a proper passport photo and another £88 for the passport itself when I have no plans to be leaving the country anytime soon. I applied for the passport last week and sent them my old passport plus my old marriage certificate showing the reason for the change of name. I had an email yesterday saying they received the documents safely and that they were being processed. Oh good, so now I wait.

Anyway, what with the tax refund and all the overtime pay plus the little bit of rent money that Franki is paying me and the rent money from the lodger, things will be a little easier this month. I did spend some of it though on a decent tower fan for the room where Franki and Rys are sleeping. It reached 32 degrees centigrade in there on Wednesday night which is ridiculously hot and stopped them from sleeping. The fan arrived yesterday and worked just fine last night, so that’s good.

It is astonishing though, the amount of laundry having them home is generating plus the sheer amount of food we are buying. Usually, a box of laundry tabs lasts me months, now we’re getting through a box in a couple of weeks. The dishwasher normally goes on every 2 to 3 days when it’s just me and the lodger — he doesn’t eat at home, so his little cup and cereal bowl don’t take up much space — and I’m having soup for dinner every other day. It’s now going on at least once a day, sometimes twice. And as for the fridge … it’s like a Christmas fridge, you know, food piled up, things buried and crammed in any old how. Getting something out is like a game of Jenga. It doesn’t help that the new fridge I bought last summer is just that much narrower than my old one. It also doesn’t have an undershelf bottle rack or cheese box. I had no idea how much I would miss those. Bottles roll about on glass shelves, clanking dangerously every time we try to get something out. Cheese gets shoved to the back of the fridge where it gets lost, only to be found a week later after I’ve bought more because I didn’t think we had any. I got so fed up with the situation that I ordered a bottle rack and a storage box. They are supposed to be universal will-fit-any-fridge (we shall see) and they hook onto the shelf above. This will keep the bottles up and out of the way and all the cheese contained in one place. We are very much a cheese of any description family. It also creates more space in the fridge because things can go underneath as well. They’re arriving tomorrow.

Since we last spoke, when I was happy that the weather was glorious for my birthday, the days have continued sunny and warm. I love it. I made a vow when we had that shit May and were still having to put the heating on in June, that if we did get a summer, I would not complain it was too hot. I love being able to have all the doors and windows open and eating outside. This week we’ve had breakfast in the garden and dinner a couple of times, which was lovely.

Speaking of gardens, a day has been selected to go to a garden centre/nursery a forty-minute drive away to select the new plants for my garden. It’s a huge place, with a massive selection of plants, plus a nice restaurant, and homestyle department. We’ll spend most of the day there, then, in the evening, I’m being taken to my first drag show that’s happening in town.

In the last week, we’ve all had haircuts. Oh, and I had the results of my blood test. They indicate that my medication is doing what it should so if I’m still feeling tired all the time it’s my fault. Okaaaay. I wonder if it’s because I’m always on the go and usually run on only six hours of broken sleep a night. Nah, couldn’t possibly be that.

Yesterday, was another live event. This time the Galactic Kidsfest which I and two other local authors had been invited to attend. It was quite a drive away, almost an hour, but it was only £10 for the pitch fee. As it was for kids and YA, I could only take Black Ice, Erinsmore, and Mage Quest. How was it? About what I expected. A village hall in a pretty village in the middle of buttfeck nowhere with minimal promotion, signage or advertising. Footfall was low. I think there were more traders and professional cosplayers in attendance than actual punters. Queen Elsa and Princess Anna whom we met at the Christmas Fair at Stonham Barns were there, so it was nice catching up with their highnesses who are the most delightful girls. It was stuffy and hot in the hall with no WiFi signal at all. We packed up early and I was home by four having sold only five books. It is what it is. I just about covered my costs. It was supposed to be a soup day, but I was tired, fed up and hungry so I blew all my takings on a Chinese for us all. Oh well, as they say, easy come, easy go.

Today (Friday) is a day of catching up on chores and writing my blog as I will be busy at the Legends Comic-Con at Stonham Barns all weekend. This was a very successful event for us last year — despite, or maybe because of the torrential rain — so it will be interesting to see how we do this year. There will be more of us, and the weather forecast is for a lovely weekend. It’s a general Comic-Con so I can take the books I didn’t sell yesterday, as well as The Forest and Lifesong. Hoping for a healthy footfall and lots of lovely readers to buy our books.

And then I’ll be back to work and the whole cycle will start again. Have I written anything lately? Nope. There’s been no time and I’m never alone in the house anymore. I find it very hard to write when there’s noise and distraction and people popping in and out of the room. I cannot understand those authors who can write in coffee shops. I just couldn’t. Aside from all the noise and distraction, coffee is expensive, and most cafes would be annoyed if you took up an entire table for the day for the price of one coffee. Also, I’m notoriously expressive when I write. I talk out loud, act out the dialogue, flail my hands about seeking for the right word — that would be a latte all over my keyboard straight away, and possibly all over the table next to me — and what about when you need the loo? Do you leave everything on your table and trust it will still be there when you get back? Or try and take it with you into the bathroom? No, it’s safer, cheaper, and ultimately more productive to write safely at home.

As usual, I have a book sale running. Hide & Seek is the last book I published and the latest in my action romance Blackwood Family Saga. It’s a fun and fast-paced read which can be yours for only 99p in eBook or £6.99 for the paperback — or local currency equivalent — click on the universal link below which will take you to the book’s listing on your local Amazon site.

https://mybook.to/HideANDSeek

Anyhoo, that’s it for now guys. Have a wonderful weekend and if you’re anywhere near Stonham Barns on Sunday why not come along to the Comic-Con? It’s a fabulous day out for the whole family with lots of things to do and see, including eight local authors selling a variety of fantasy and sci-fi books for all tastes and ages.

May the sun be shining on your little corner of the world.

Best wishes.

Julia Blake