Hoilday time

My final manuscript had been sent off to Bookguild Publishing, and other than researching on the internet (and writing my blog) I was preparing for a family break. We could no longer afford a holiday in the sun so decided to take two weeks out of daily living, and enjoy life in our own country.

The first week was spent at home with two friends from Germany who we had met some years before while on holiday in Cuba. As I have said before in my blog they are two of the funniest people we have had the pleasure of meeting. They have a very german sense of humour which is very refreshing, and they love my children as if they were their own. When we waved them off at the bus station they sat on the coach to Gatwick and the tears flowed from not only them, but from us as well. They are wonderful people from a wonderful country and hopefully, if I can make some money, me and the family would love to be able to take up their invitation to visit them in Munich in 2014.

Twenty four hours later we were in the car driving up to Scotland to stay with another wonderful couple at their home. We stopped for the night in Gretna Green and travelled next day on the ferry from Glasgow to Dunoon. We spent five lovely days with Bill, Val and their sloppy dog Dougal. We spent our time walking on the moutains and hills, and a days visit to Glasgow (by train) to see the sites, and take an open top bus guild tour of the city. One word of warning, Glasgow does have delights that are worth a visit, but as the conductor of our tour stated, it's always raining, so be prepared.

The kids loved Dougal and I had to spend the next two months after our visit fighting off their demands for us to get our own dog. I got told off a couple fo times when I got caught feeding him under the dinner table. But what could you do when you have a face resting on your nee with large brown eyes looking up to you, pleading for a scrap of food? You give in, thats what you do, and by the end of our visit he had me working out of his paw.

On the way home we had booked into a B.B in Bridlington on the Yorkshire coast, just for the night, so we could visit where my wife's grand parents used to live. Again we enjoyed our stay, but next morning it very windy, and as the black clouds came rolling in, it was a cold and brisk walk we had along the harbour.

On the way home we got lost, but everyone was relaxed enough after our break not to end up in arguments, and by late in the evenning we arrived home just as the engine in our car started to make a worrying noise.

When I took it to the garage the next day they only confirmed what I thought could be wrong, and my heart sank. The clutch was knackerd and it would cost nearly £500 to fix it. This was a disaster for me. I had spent the last of my spare money on the previous two weeks and now I was skint.

I had already sent off the payment required for first stage publishing. So now I had no choice. I would have to find some paid work. At that momement I was scared that I would get back into the old routine of working and enjoying the regular money that come in, so giving up on the final push that would be required to gettting published, and making a success of my dream, in becoming an author.