I started writing when I was in my early teens. It helped me get through some very tough times. My early childhood was terrifying, but thats a story for another day.
I was born with at turn in my eye, I didn’t even realize I had it when I was a young child, but as I got older, it began to ruin my life. Back in the sixties there was a TV series called Daktari, which was about a vet in Africa. One of the animals in the series was a lion called Clarence It was crosseyed.
As an eleven year old girl I remember the boys in my village chanting “Daktari” every time I walked by. They never used my real name when they talked to me, but called me Clarence like the lion. It broke my heart. Luckily for me, during a routine visit to the doctor, he noticed the turn in my eye.
“Wouldn’t you like to get that fixed?” he asked.
I had the operation just before I started High School. Of course some of those kids still called me Clarence, but it didn’t really matter anymore because the offending eye had been straightened. My eye was red and scarred for a couple of months. The scars on the inside were there for a lot longer.
Life never lived up to my expectations back then and I rebelled against everything. I was obviously a troubled teenager, but back in the sixties in rural northern England, you just had to grin and bear it. Thats when I started to write. I wrote a different life for myself. I don’t have any of those stories now, but remember them well. They weren’t all about love and happiness, but they were about me, and I was strong.
Writing is my therapy. I’ve written a couple of books I’m fairly proud of, with three more in the works. I’m an old girl now so I hope I live long enough to finish them all.
Stay safe everyone, and always be kind!
King William IV – Brompton-on-Swale
Every time I look at this pub it brings back warm fuzzy memories. It is the first place I legally purchased an alcoholic drink.
I remember the little group of old timers that sat in the bar every night.
I loved this place!
I remember Hen Parties (Bachelorette Parties in my current place of abode), and tinsel at Christmas.
I also remember the guy who tried to come on to me at the bar, and the landlady who let me out the back to escape him.
I embellished on this incident for my first ever short story, Guy at the Bar, and was immediately hooked on writing.
Guy at the bar can be purchased, with a collection of short stories in my eBook Ghosts on the Sand and other chilling tales. If you live in North Yorkshire and like quirky tales written by someone who spent their childhood in the beautiful village of Brompton on Swale, give it a try.
Ghosts on the Sand – Free
Its Easter Monday in beautiful Abruzzo. Been a busy week with not much time to write so instead I’m giving away a copy of Ghosts on the Sand, just to let you know I’m still around. Click on the link above from April 23rd to April 27th to get a free copy (kindle/electronic only).
If you enjoy a traditional ghost story, you’ll enjoy this collection. I’d appreciate a review on Amazon if you have time.
Dead of July was the book I had the most fun writing, I lost myself in the past. So much of this book is real. The eighties, the fun, the excitement! I was in my twenties in this book, a good time for anyone!
I finished Ghosts on the Sand a couple of weeks ago. Since publishing it on Amazon I’ve had some great feedback, particularly from the folks in Brompton on Swale, Catterick and Richmond, which is where most of the stories are set.
Now its time to go back to the eighties and write the sequel to Dead of July. There is still a lot to write. Sheila found out she was pregnant on Valentine’s Day of 1984. She was both happy and terrified at the thought of being a mum…I can say no more. Watch out for my next book, Lingering Evil, the sequel to Dead of July.
Both of my books are available on Amazon for a mere $0.99. I’m not famous (yet) so I can’t demand Stephen King type prices…but maybe one day!
Dead of July
Ghosts on the Sand
Thanks for stopping by!
Special Offer on October 30th and 31st only.
Free for Halloween!
Mark your calendar and click the link above to get your Copy.
As a part-time independent writer, I don’t have the time (or money) for huge advertising campaigns. My day job keeps me busy and pays the bills. What I want to do more than anything else, is have people read, and hopefully enjoy my stories. I’m an old girl now and get tired a little more quickly than I used to, but I still write at every opportunity. For two days only, my latest stories will be free on Amazon. If you enjoy reading Ghosts on the Sand, please take the time to give me a review. I’d really appreciate it.
Four years ago, when I self published Dead of July, I was SO very proud of myself. I received some very honest reviews. They weren’t glowing reviews, but they weren’t bad either. They were encouraging, said I had a talent for writing. Life kept me busy for a while, but two or three weeks ago I finished my second book Ghosts on the Sandwhich is now available on Amazon. Ghosts on the Sand is a collection of short stories and already receiving great feedback. I don’t think the book will make me rich, but that’s not why I wrote it. My pleasure is writing. I have two more stories on a back burner, The Engineer, which started life as a novella, but is evolving into a novel, and aeroporto, an idea that tantalized my brain while sitting in a small airport in Pescara Italy. However, I’ve decided to put both of those on a back burner to write a sequel to Dead of July. There are things unfinished in Sheila’s life. A very evil woman lurks in the shadows, a woman who should be dead, a woman who wants revenge!
And here it is, finally! I don’t think writing is ever going to make me rich, but it sure makes me happy. If you’d like to share my happiness, click on the link below and give it a try.
Ghosts on the Sand is almost ready to publish. Its been in the works for four years because its hard to be a part-time author. Do you like the book cover? I love it and I hope it’s the first of many from Kara Boulden! This book is a collection of four stories.
Ghosts on the Sand is the first story in my new collection. It’s about a young girl (Sheila) and her mother on holiday in Blackpool. They’re spending time together to heal after escaping a violent, angry man, Sheila’s dad. Things don’t work out quite as planned.
I Love you Neil is a super short story about two brothers. Can’t reveal anymore or I’d spoil the plot.
Guy at the Bar is actually the first story I wrote (in my adult years anyway), and is based on an experience I had in the King William IV pub in Brompton on Swale. I have fond memories of this pub, but this isn’t one of them. It’s a story about a nasty drunk who had no respect for women. (There is a bit of a twist of course)
Camera starts on the road from Richmond to Brompton on Swale (near the turn off to Easby Abbey). A broken down car and a camera swinging on the fence. What could go wrong? You’d be surprised. One of my hobbies is photography, but I hope I never come across a camera like this one.
I really want you to enjoy these stories, and review them on Amazon for me. I’m and “old gal” but I feel my writing career has just begun.
The King Bill was a friendly welcoming place where all the locals hung out. It was an old stone building with big bay windows, low ceilings, and whitewashed walls. During the cold winter months, a fire burned in the bar and another in the snug. The snug was a small room where the women would gather and enjoy catching up with the latest gossip. With its comfy chairs and carpeted floor, it was a home away from home
My disturbing encounter in the King Bill happened on a Saturday night in spring of 1975. It was almost closing time. I sat alone on a tall bar stool enjoying a quiet drink, when I heard a noise in the hallway by the front door.
“Are you all right, mate?” an unseen voice asked.
“Stupid damn doormat.”
At that point a stranger entered, brushing himself down. Based on his comment, he’d fallen as he came through the door from the street. He made himself comfortable on the stool next to mine, and ordered a pint of bitter with a whiskey chaser. Liz, the landlady and owner of the pub, was serving behind the bar, and was about to call last orders, so he was lucky to get a drink at all.
He was a tall, skinny man—gangly, almost—with a mop of unruly, dark curly hair. A pair of very thick heavy spectacles covered most of his face. The lenses magnified his eyes, making them look huge and out of proportion. He downed half of his pint in one gulp, wiped the froth from his mouth, and then drank his whiskey. He turned to me with a silly drunken smile on his face.