'The Unsheathed Key' available at more retailers!

Great news! My fantasy novel, 'The Unsheathed Key', Book I of 'The pages of the Blade' is now available from the following major retailers:

Kobo

Diesel Ebook Store

Sony Reader Store

With more to follow soon...

Given, wrong categories, but I'm having it fixed. Here's more on the book:

“They’d made the legend out to be nothing but a silly story... the entire Realm’s beliefs were built upon what Súiribhán wanted them to believe...”

Twelve years after the Fall, the Freed Realm is still recovering from the devastation sown by the rebellion. However, in the very house of one of Súiribhán’s most trusted workers, hope is hatching once again for the supporters of the Lost King.

The orphan Ileana starts to uncover the many lies embedded into her life, and she just might hold the key to the undoing of the new ruler. Will she choose to use it?

Suddenly, the girl finds herself at the centre of an impending war and she has to decide where to place her allegiance: with Súiribhán, the Lost King... or herself.

Guided by the wise maid Gwen until she makes her decision, Ileana will have to run. From her family, the terrifying flying beasts called hrakar, and the blood-eyed Captain who has haunted her dreams for years...

For an excerpt, go to my Author page and click on Titles.
Yay! So excited!

Letter to my Old High School, Reading Good, The Battle of the Blinds

What an exciting week... My first novel has finally been published as an ebook (see Author site for details and an excerpt) and the feedback has been great! Woke up to two comments this morning that instantly plastered a smile on my face (which will annoy my colleagues for the rest of the day):

'Hard to put down' and 'Great fantasy writing for sure'.

Suffice to say that I am a happy camper. That aside, here are my three thinks for today:

Letter to my Old High School: Lately, I have been getting a good number of requests and messages from old friends with whom I went to high school with. That, coupled with the release of my book, has got me thinking back on my journey so far. So, this morning, I allowed my thoughts to timidly wander back to that Dark Place That Is High School. If I could send a short message to my many teachers and friends; this is what I would say:
Dear Maths Teacher #1 (to clarify, I had about five maths teachers; they passed me around as they each gave up on me in turn): If you were wondering what happened to me halfway through your lesson that day; I climbed out the window while you were writing on the board.
Dear Economics Teacher: I would like to assure you that I was, in fact, working on the school newspaper every time I asked to be excused. Thanks for allowing that; it is serving me well today.
Dear Business Economics Teacher: Sorry for always handing in my assignments very late. It wasn't you; I really just don't do well with structure. And thanks for your Christmas messages every year - they are truly appreciated!
Dear Maths Teacher #5: You, wisest of them all, realised that I was most definitely not on my way to becoming a technician for NASA; so you left me alone. You never bullied or threatened me, but somehow I always managed to get the minimum passing mark... Thank you.
Dear Hostel Father: Thanks for playing along, singing along and allowing yourself to be locked up with us in an attempt to prove that we were the 'better' hostel. Being an hour late for school has never been so sweet.
Dear Afrikaans Teacher: I bunked your class for an entire year. I liked how you tried to take credit for the 'A' I got. PS Not everyone was made to 'keep to the left of the stairs'.
Dear Vice Principal: Do you remember the time you tried to threaten information out of us at assembly? I would just like to point out that pulling a toy lion from your pocket and making it 'meow' into the microphone did not have the desired effect.
Dear English Teacher: Thanks for turning a blind eye every time I handed in a 3000 word essay, instead of the prescribed 1000. Thanks for your history lectures and your impersonation of Iago. And for making me read 'The Hobbit'.
And finally, Dear OMK Girls: To the lucky few who managed to get through that window; the illegal chocolate dealers; the fellow pranksters; the flowerbed-sleepers; the successful past-curfew-sneaker-inners; the snorers; and the one who gave me the fright of my life by crawling out from behind that couch.... Thank you.

Reading Good - Granted, I am a few years behind on this, but I recently discovered this great website that allows you to rate books, make wishlists of ones you want to read, and even recommend some to your friends.

So, in an attempt to increase my online presence and build my network, I joined goodreads.com today. Loads of fun! Go check it out, or invite me as a friend if you are already a member!

Also, does anyone know how I can create an author profile? I find the whole thing a bit confusing.

Another great site where you can share your thoughts on your latest reads, is Booktalk.org. The forums are especially great for venting...

The Battle of the Blinds - A while ago, I blogged about moving house with a cat. Now, to update you on The Furry One's adaptation to life in the city: everything is fine, except...

He cannot figure out the window blinds.

My word, is this frustrating! He has tangled himself, strangled himself and puked in protest; but his nemesis remains unmoved. This means that, every time he wants to go outside, I have to get up and open the blinds. He is one trumpet away from arriving in the garden like a king.

Now, this would all be fine if I could pull up the blinds and leave the window open permanently, but alas - it is winter. And the window is right next to my side of the bed.

What's even worse, is the way in which His Majesty summons me to raise the portcullis. A simple tap on a sleeping nose would do, but noooooo... 

It is much more effective to climb the burglar bars like a ladder, musically strumming the metal as you go, and then proceed to fall on the wooden floor at 3am. That way, your subjects respond much quicker (due to anger and irritation). One must also remember that it is common courtesy to then first stare out the window for a long time, while the subject shivers and curses in the crisp air that is now blowing through the house. 

If the subject should revolt and close the window while screaming at you, an ankle bite is an adequate form of punishment. Should she then lock you in the living room, continue to ignore her for two days.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is how my cat and I ended up sitting on opposite ends of the couch with our backs to one another this morning. If this tyranny continues, I cannot guarantee that I will not start throwing him with rotten fruit.

Send your regards to people from your past, meet new ones who share your interests, and never move into a house with blinds if you have cats. You'll never get any sleep.

Big news!! The Unsheathed Key published!!

'The Unsheathed Key', Book I of 'The Pages of the Blade' is now officially published and available as an ebook!
I am so excited! For more on the book, go to my Author Site, or to buy it directly, go on to https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/323926.

More retailers to follow soon!

(Now, how to celebrate? I'm thinking steak and cocktails...)

Thanks to everyone who supported me and forced me to get to this point - I owe you all a massive party.

Website launched!

Great news!
You can now visit my official author site! Yay!

Here you'll find info on my first ebook, 'The Unsheathed Key', and news on when and where to buy it.
The book will be published within the next two weeks, initially only on Smashwords.com. More retailers will follow shortly after.

So excited! Go check it out and let me know what you think: http://yurikawrites.weebly.com

Beer and Brezels, One Step Closer, Winter is (not) coming

It has been decidedly way too long since I have last blogged.

So much is happening! Here are my three thinks for today:

Beer and Brezels - We recently got the fabulous news that The Man has been accepted into the Masters program of a German university. (Cue dramatic music). We are moving to Munich.
I am so excited! I have never been to Europe, so I don't have the faintest idea of what to expect - but I'm going anyway!
And, if the documentaries on South Africa are anything to go by, I should not believe half of what is said in any of the doccies on Germany. Surely, they do not walk around in suspenders all day?
Luckily, we have quite a number of German friends, who are all too eager to help us find a flat and settle in. The move is still a few months off, but I cannot wait to walk about the city, doing my shopping and then hopping on a train back to the house - without getting robbed or harassed by either muggers, street vendors or (most likely) police; as you do in Jo'burg.
Another thing I am excited about, is learning the language. Now, as an Afrikaans person, I can understand German well enough (that is, if you speak to me slowly and loudly, like I'm on the receiving end of a bad telephone line), and they tend to understand me, after a while. (Scary thing, though; I apparently come off as quite aggressive, for some reason). But it would be great to be able to understand the menu's, for example.
Such a long list of things that need to be done, before then. I'll keep you posted on the journey.

PS I googled 'most German picture ever' and this came up. Yikes.

One Step Closer - So this week, I finished the final edit on my book, 'The Unsheathed Key'. Now, I'm just waiting for the last comments and changes from my editor.
I. Am. Almost. Done. I can't believe it. Five years after I started the book, I am almost ready to publish it! It's thrilling and nauseating at the same time, though. There is still so much to do.
Luckily, I have the support of family and friends to keep me going. And when I say 'support', it truly comes in different packages: I have been coaxed, encouraged and threatened to within an inch of my life, by well-wishers. Not that I'm complaining. I'm quite the procrastinator.
I have added my Twitter and Facebook links to the top of the page in the meantime, until I can publish and provide more details.
I'm one step closer.
(Is it eerie that 'and I'm about to break' follows that phrase in my head, accompanied by a heavy guitar riff?)

Winter is (not) coming -  Yes, yes. So the northern hemisphere has had the longest winter in two thousand years (or something like that) and everyone is complaining about snow and wind and ice.
Ever thought you could get fed up with summer?
Well, it is June, and I am yet to freeze as I walk out the door (autumn starts in March here). The mornings are chilly, but come noon, I am throwing off jackets and coats at a tremendous rate.
Quit hogging winter, would you? I mean, especially now that I am trying to familiarise myself with cold weather so I don't instantly freeze as I get off the plane in Germany, like some unfortunate Asgardian who peeved off a Frost Giant.
Please come and fetch the sun - I think he's lost. And he's making me look horrible, sweating in my brand new winter wardrobe.

Don't be afraid to head off on an adventure, keep pushing yourself to get that thing done, and please do send some cold weather my way.

The Unsheathed Key - Cover done and dusted!!

Finally! The cover of 'The Unsheathed Key', Book I of 'The Pages of the Blade' is finally done and dusted!
Sleepless nights and fights with my laptop aside, I am pretty happy with the result.

Here's a sneak peek...

My Dear Ol' Headphones, To Read or Not to Read, Hippo Chase

Phew! Things are hectic! Getting everything ready for my eBook is a much more daunting task than I anticipated: website, Twitter, Facebook, cover design, metadata (don't ask), having the manuscript proofread, making final changes...

Let me get my mind off it. Here are my three thinks for today:

My Dear Ol' Headphones: Listening to music with my eyes closed and my headphones planted firmly over my ears, has always been a hobby of mine that brings me instant peace. I'm not quite sure when I started doing that, but I remember building a fort in the living room when I was 10, dragging my enormous 'ghetto blaster' into it, and then falling blissfully into my own little world of Spice Girls and Kylie Minogue (oi).
Going into my teens, my headphones saved me from insanity countless times while I was in hostel. Being an only child, a bit of a loner, and generally preferring the company of Gandalf to that of squealing and gossiping fifteen-year-olds; a noisy hostel was a massive adjustment! Clutching out and allowing the music to take me somewhere far, FAR away... It kept me (mostly) sane.
At seventeen, when I met my husband-to-be, he gifted me with my first MP3 player. Oh what joy!! Now I could zone out on my seven hour bus rides every two weeks when I went home! By the time my playlist ended, there'd only be about an hour of travel left - what a blessing! I was given over to six hours (well, twelve if you counted the round trip) of pure daydreaming.
At university, the little gadgets saved me once more when I encountered one bully (for want of calling them something that would make my family blush when they read this) after the other: screaming and abusive butch girls who thought they were entitled to embarrass and harass me because I was more culturally inclined than their soccer-playing, beer-chugging selves. By switching off my light, locking the door and popping those puppies over my ears, I could ignore them.
Not to mention the next year, when I found myself living with housemates who had taken it upon themselves to try and poison everyone around them (I kid you not). During this, there was no time more peaceful or holy than when I was in studio at 5:00 in the morning, prepping to do my show as I blasted Steelheart through my 'phones (my taste in music had taken quite a turn by then). Being a radio presenter, a producer and a sound engineer granted me the privilege of wearing headphones almost constantly, without looking like too much of an idiot. Being able to escape like that - it really did save me from many a thing.
If I had to pinpoint it, I'd say that I probably learnt the habit from my dad. When I was very little, a real tjokkertjie, I remember creeping upstairs to his music room. He used to go straight up to it the minute he came home from work. There, I'd find him listening to Dire Straits and Paul Simon, eyes closed, head back.
Many years later, while sitting next to a fire and having a drink together; he related one of his war stories to me: he'd once completely ignored his commander when they'd just come out of battle in Angola. Fed-up and having lost many of his troops (he was a sergeant), he wasn't in the mood to listen to that man's opinion on anything. So he stared him in the face, took out his Walkman and pressed 'play' to listen to Bob Marley's 'Buffalo Soldier'.
Fighting on arrival. Fighting for survival.
Guess it runs in the family.

To Read, or Not to Read - If you'r a regular peruser of my blog, you would have gathered by now that I am an avid reader of pretty much all things written. Now, that's good, I guess. Except when you are trying desperately to write something yourself.

You see, my problem is that I tend to empathise a bit too much with the characters in books. While reading a story (or a magazine article) (or an ad for arthritis creams), I will quite often stop and try to put myself in that person's shoes. Whether it is the hero or the villain, the interviewer or the interviewee, the old lady or the poor photographer who had to take the shots of her; I want to fully understand them. I try to experience their emotions and envision what I would do in that situation.

This is all fine and well, but when I submerge myself like this while writing my own stuff, I tend to draw it into my own story. Not only that, but I get so consumed by what I'm reading, that I find myself thinking in that writers style! That. Is. Not. Good.

So, I've taken it upon myself to throw a mental dust sheet over my bookcase at home, to stop anything from clawing its way into my brain. Much too often I have found my character's bowels turning to water after reading George Martin; chewing the fat with old people and getting highly aggressive at the sight of graffiti after an encounter with Holden Caulfield; or getting all Helen Fielding-y and becoming v. busy and important.

Don't get me wrong, I need to read for inspiration.

But once inspired... Let's put it down, now shall we?

Hippo Chase - I work for a production company that makes wildlife documentaries. That being said, you can imagine the types of harrowing stories that fly around the office on a regular basis: camera crews stranded by seasonal floods, producers playing tug-of-war with tigers (the 'rope' actually being the talent that turned his back at just the wrong moment) and the odd snake bite or two. So, this morning, I found myself remembering my own experience from a few years ago...

When we were still dating, The Man and I went on a mini holiday to Botswana, camping as usual. Long story short; there was rain, a bit of a flood, and everything was quite miserable. On our last day there, the weather finally cleared and we decided to go for a drive in the reserve. Stopping next to a pool, hubby heard some bull frogs going mad nearby. Curious, we got out of the car and went looking for them. Heads down, our intense search consumed us completely - until we heard the distinct snort of a hippo. Very close to us.

We looked up just in time to see a massive male staring at us from across the pool, approximately 8 meters  from us. Now, in case you don't know, hippos are considered one of the most dangerous animals in Africa (both because they are incredibly aggressive and permanently in a peeved-off state).

Next moment, it came charging at us through the water. We gave each other one look, and bolted. I've never run so fast in my life. 

Now, a strange thing happens to you when you have had a number of these experiences in your life (stories for another day): everything becomes funny. By the time we got to the car, we were almost doubled over in laughter - and we didn't stop giggling until we got back to camp.

There, our mirth came to an abrupt halt: we found a baboon ransacking our tent. He ran up a tree, and continued to happily snap The Man's braai tongs at him. What an insult.

Zone out once in a while, find your own voice and ALWAYS RUN FROM HIPPOS!