Hello my fellow little munchkins! How are you all doing? I am doing well. I am so happy that we are coming up towards the end of the high school year. I am just waiting to get my finals done with so I can get some sleep. I mean as I am writing this my brain is turning to mush. Anyways, why don’t we just get into this post?
Pink Ice Creams:
Intent on fixing her broken marriage and the alcohol-fuelled catastrophe that is her life, Kay Harris arrives at her grim and grey holiday let, ready to lay to rest the tragedy that has governed her entire adulthood – the disappearance of her little brother, Adam.
But the road to recovery is pitted with the pot-holes of her own poor choices, and it isn’t long before Kay is forced to accept that maybe she doesn’t deserve the retribution she seeks. Will the intervention of strangers help her find the answers she needs to move on from her past, or will she always be stuck on the hard shoulder with no clear view ahead and a glove box full of empties?
Pink Ice Creams is a tale of loss, self-destruction, and clinging on to the scraps of the long-lost when everyone else has given up hope.
Author Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B07RYX3YWP
Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/jowoolaston
Jo Woolaston lives in Leicestershire, England with her extreme noise-making husband and two lovely sons. She tries to avoid housework and getting a ‘proper job’ by just writing stuff instead – silly verse, screenplays, shopping lists…
This sometimes works in her favour (she did well in her MA in TV Scriptwriting, gaining a Best Student award in Media and Journalism – and has had a few plays produced – that kind of thing) but mostly it just results in chronic insomnia and desperate tears of frustration. Pink Ice Creams is her first novel, she hopes you liked it.
Social Media Links:
Writer page Jo Woolaston – https://m.facebook.com/nevermindthebloggers
It’s all about the re-write…
It’s finished. It’s finally over, it’s a work of art and perfect just the way it is. What do you mean, Character X is superfluous, really? And chapter 4 is… what? Tedious… don’t you mean GENIUS?!! No? Oh… bugger. The truth hurts, and the more reader opinions that are requested, the longer the re-writes become, but the key is never to stop asking because your precious manuscript will get better Every. Single. Time.
So what changed with Pink Ice Creams? Significantly, the published edition is 15,000 words shorter than the original. That is a lot of work to lose – and it was tough having to cut some of the prose that I loved, had worked hard to perfect, but it simply didn’t support the story any more. It was me, voicing stuff, venting, that had no place in my character’s arc and wasn’t fair that I was using her story as my platform. I write a lot of stuff, so I appeased myself with the thought that maybe these words will find a more comfortable home somewhere else, they will not go un-read. But I very much doubt it. Cut for a reason, and once confined to the scrap heap, well, perhaps there they should stay…
The title changed too. Originally this book was entitled ‘Two weeks in Norfolk’ – it doesn’t say much about genre, style, content – but for me it summed up the essence of the book at start-up. The duration and the location of the book remains the same – two weeks – a short moment in time that would change the world enormously for one person yet be completely insignificant to the rest of the world. The tale itself actually spans twenty years or more, but this is the closure point – this is the story part worth telling, where everything comes to a head for our main character Kay Harris. And in Norfolk, why? Because Norfolk is flat. It is pedestrian, a landscape overshadowed by its more attractive, attention seeking competitors, just like Kay has been until now. (Actually, it is geographically flat but it is very beautiful – go visit if you haven’t already.) I felt the title had an air of openness, no pre-determiners… anything could happen in these two weeks and as at the beginning of the writing process I didn’t know exactly what that would be, it suited me well.
But, once complete, it was too innocuous, too vague for today’s market where the one-word synopsis rules; Stolen. Ruin. Meh. ‘Pink Ice Creams’ is just as vague a title but having completed re-write after re-write I had to ask myself just what was the real essence of the book now? It wasn’t about time and place. It wasn’t about a missing child, although that features in the tale as a whole. It was about a woman trying to live with the loss of herself – everything she knew and a lot she didn’t – and trying to make sense of growing up without a positive model of who she could be or who she should be. Pink ice creams was the world she knew before it all collapsed; raspberry ripples in the sunshine and the last real, true to her heart, words that she had spoken to her brother before she never saw him again. And that’s what my book was really about – the words that are spoken that no-one ever hears, the people that exist that no-one really sees. And the words that are written, that no-one ever reads.