Author, editor, attempter of this thing called life. Social anxiety warrior. Re-Connections, a collection of short stories, published with Ocelot Press, 15/10/2025.
Yet another post today. This time it’s about coming out and is hosted by the lovely Jennifer C. Wilson, author of the Kindred Spirits series of historical novels.
You can find Chris on Facebook, LinkedIn, Tumblr and Twitter. His blog is for indie authors, resources, book promos, services and more. Why not have a look?
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THREE DAYS to the launch of Social Anxiety Revealed!
I’ve read many discussions about the differences between ebooks and paperbacks and reasons for buying one or the other. Paperbacks might be gentler on the eyes. They’re easy to flip through and many readers simply prefer the feel of a “real book.” But ebooks take up no weight or space in your suitcase or handbag. They’re also cheaper. And the arguments go on.
I don’t remember reading about the extra advantages of buying the paperback version of a non-fiction book. I don’t mean any non-fiction book. A memoir, for instance, reads like a work of fiction. It’s a story that you generally read from beginning to end. A non-fiction book that wants to teach or guide you in some way is usually organised into sections and sub-sections. You can read it from beginning to end, but you can equally pick out the parts that interest you. Or you might do both: read through once and later return to remind yourself of a specific section. It’s easier to do that with the hard copy.
Because you can flick through the paperback, you can get a better idea of the way the book is organised. Sections that are specially formatted in a different way from the rest stand out more. Overall, I think the hard copy of such a book gives you a better reading experience.
When, for example, I bought J.T.Mallory’s book, Building an Author Platform (for beginners), I knew I wanted to be able to flip backwards and forwards in it. I needed to be able to find the relevant information for whatever I was trying to do at any particular moment. So I bought the paperback and I’m glad I did. It wouldn’t have been so easy to jump around in the ebook.
My new book, Social Anxiety Revealed, now available for pre-order until the launch on Tuesday, is similarly organised in sections. And that’s why I think you’ll get more satisfaction from the paperback. But that’s just my opinion. Your opinion is the one that counts.
Today, I’m talking writing about non-fiction after romance. Or writing non-fiction before romance. Or how writing non-fiction affects writing romance. Or vice-versa. Maybe all of those.
Anyway, I’m delighted to be on the Contemporary Romance Writers blog.
To all my Facebook friends with a birthday in August (17 by my count!), I wish you a wonderful day of sweet and simple pleasure.
לכל חבריי בפייסבוק עם יום הולדת באוגוסט, אני מאחלת לכם יום נפלא של הנאה מתוקה ופשוטה. א
In my youth, my August birthday was a blessing and a curse.
I enjoyed the fact that I was always on holiday from school on this special day. I was free to spend the day enjoying myself, even if there weren’t many special things to do.
But that also meant that everyone else was on holiday and not around to celebrate with me. I was often away, too, on that day.
And, with a birthday at the end of August, I was always the youngest in the class – a fact that held great significance when we were young and was not advantageous.
Now, it’s all good. Summer, freedom, almost always sunshine. And the fact that I’m the youngest of all my old school friends doesn’t bother me one bit!
From this year, I’ll be sharing August with my baby: Social Anxiety Revealed, published on August 22, just three days before my birthday.
This post is about what happened to me this past weekend. It’s also about much more than that.
We were visited by a lovely Canadian couple. They stayed with us, ate and talked. We showed them some of the sites of Jerusalem: the Old City market, the Western Wall, Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum, Machane Yehuda market, the city centre and other neighbourhoods. The visit ended with an impressive light show projected onto the city walls. Then they left us to visit other parts of the country before returning home to Canada. The end?
In the Light Railway
Not at all, because I left out the beginning of this story. Two eleven-year-old girls became friends at school out of convenience, and somehow that friendship grew to include visits outside school. One of those girls was considerably less popular than the other and so glad of the friendship that provided protection from the harsh treatment she’d endured from other girls.
That friendship ended without warning just a year after it began. The popular girl’s mother secretly took her daughter off to live in Canada. The other girl was left to flounder, suddenly vulnerable and exposed to bullying from all directions.
The girl who remained was me. The one who left was the woman who came to stay last weekend, over fifty-one years later. We met briefly four years ago, but this was the first chance we had to talk together.
‘Weird’ was a feeling we both agreed on. I could be talking to her as friends do, when I’d suddenly remember she was that twelve-year-old girl who deserted me. And while I knew that what happened back then was in no way her fault, I appreciated her apologies. Her leaving led to six difficult years that determined the person I was to become, and none of it was her fault.
I’m so glad we met up again. And I might even have a chance to visit Canada.
Many thanks to all those who offered suggestions for a slogan to accompany the launch of my new book: Social Anxiety Revealed.
I decided I wasn’t the best person to judge this contest. I think when you don’t live in a country where English is spoken, sometimes words don’t ring in quite the same way, and slogans are all about that tinkling in the ears.
So I chose a judge – Jean Davison. Jean probably caught social anxiety herself as a teenager, although she wasn’t diagnosed with it (unsurprisingly, as social anxiety wasn’t known in those days). Instead, she was diagnosed with something she didn’t have, as told in her memoir, The Dark Threads. Thank you, Jean.
Miriam Drori, Author 