The Art of Procrastination

You what?  I've got to write another blog post – oh for goodness sake, I was busy polishing my cutlery …

What have my hamster, The Walking Dead and the washing up have in common?  They have all been instrumental in distracting me from doing what I should be doing, and that’s writing.  To be fair, this week I've had a bigger excuse, a job interview at another zoo for small people, but nonetheless, I've found excuses to avoid putting finger to button.  Last week it was going to see the new Star Trek film and this week it’ll be Eurovision.  Yes, it’s that time of year again.  Terrible songs, great commentary by Graham Norton and a good excuse for countries to score cheap points from each other.  I apologise for the drunken Facebook posts and tweets!

Now I've got a cracking idea for a new novel – it’s another ghost story but this time a supernatural thriller where the main character has just been released from prison.  She will move to a different area in the country to escape a vengeful family, but something far more wicked will be in store for her …

So last Sunday, I wrote the prologue and thus far, it has flowed quite nicely.  Then it will be a case of sticking to my writing target of a thousand words a day and hey presto, in about three and a half months I’ll have the first draft of a novel.  But this time, things have been getting in the way.  My 3^rd Dan, the job interview, my daily dose of zombies in The Walking Dead (Rick Grimes or Daryl Dixon, I’m not fussy, I’ll let either rescue me), playing with Rusty my hamster – they've all helped me to avoid doing what I should be doing and that’s getting on with the business of writing.

But now there’s no excuse.  I've got the new taekwondo belt, managed to fluff the interview, cleaned the hamster out and so I vow dear readers, that from Sunday, I’ll be finally cracking on with the new novel and this time I won’t stop.  Until there’s something else to put me off.  Like the hamster, who is currently running around on my laptop as I type.  She’s a cute and furry little pal who is much more fun than the charmless twerps that are available to date round where I live in the Fens.  Yes gentlemen, I have compared you to my pet hamster and frankly, you've all been left wanting.

Once I've broken the ice and got on with it, I’ll love every minute of making up the story and I’ll immerse myself into the world of the novel.  But first I’ll have to get past those stupid barriers I can put up with tasks that can wait until after I've reached my quota.  My socks do not need washing – I've got plenty, the fluff on the carpet can wait and I’m not allowed to wash-up until I’m done.  The new novel starts here.

So what do other writers do to put off starting work?

Next weekend, The Ghost Hunters Return will be free from Friday 24^th May to Sunday 26^th.  If you do download and read it, please leave a review, or the hamster gets it.

And if you like ghosts, then you’ll want to download Soul Asylum by C L Raven, which is also free next week as well.

Trials and Tribulations Part 2

Put the kettle on and make yourself a cup of tea while I tell you the story of how I got my 3^rd Dan in taekwondo.  And I announce the winner of my competition …

Last week I left you mid-description, comparing my 3^rd Dan grading in taekwondo to giving birth.  Not that I’d know of course, but I know what enduring a Dan grading is like – I've done three of them and my stretch marks are yellow stripes on a black belt.

Months of preparation went into the training, and then there’s learning the theory.  Now I’m sure that learning the phrase ‘bandae dollyo goro chagi’ (reverse turning hooking kick) is useful in some universes but not much good when you’re in a bar in Seoul.  And God help you if you’re in a bar in Pyongyang and the only Korean you know is ‘jungi joomuk’ (middle knuckle fist) as the men in uniform will be coming to arrest your imperialist backside.

The day came and I was standing around in my freshly ironed dobok (training suit – or white pyjamas to muggles) trying to look as if I knew what I was doing.  The last time I’d bothered to iron my dobok was four year ago when I did my 2^nd Dan, but you know when I’m being serious because I’d painted my toe nails a sensible colour and not my usual harlot red.  Like that would make any difference.  My name was called out, I took my place (thankfully at the back of the hall) and I was in the peak of physical condition.  Except my right hamstring was a bit tight, my feet hurt and I needed another wee.

Floor work was fine, only went forwards when I was supposed to go backwards once.  Although my jumping reverse kicks did look like my hamster was doing them rather than her owner.  Then there were the patterns.  We only had to do five of them, I was expecting seven, but I did manage to finish one facing entirely the wrong way round.  Oops, hope no-one noticed.  Step-sparring went well but my partner did throw me around like a she was drying her laundry but I just kept it simple.  Why spend all that time fannying around when you can just kick someone in the head in one shot?

I thought I’d blown it but it was time for sparring, and I know I can do that well.  Except, when I opened my bag, I couldn't find my gum shield.  Oh buggeration.  I had one brief moment of sheer terror, which was replaced by relief when someone shoved their spare gum shield into my hand.  Ew, you may cry, but needs must and I chucked into my mouth and sparred by backside off.  Hell yeah!

So that was it, grading over.  I was a wreck, so me and my friend went out and got completely wasted.  It would be rude not to.  I felt like hell the next morning, thank God for Ray-Bans ­ ­­­– and for those who've read The Ghost Hunters’ Club ­– I did Linda proud.  I had several days of nail-biting, going from ‘Oh who wants to be a 3^rd Dan anyway’ to contemplating jumping out of my living room window.  I passed.  I've got my extra stripe on my belt, and thank God I don’t have to do that again in a hurry.

To celebrate, I bought a new Kindle Paperwhite – shiny shiny – and gave my mum my old one.  The first book I read, keeping with the Korean theme, was Nothing to Envy: Real lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick, which is the story of how some people managed to defect from North Korea.  An absolute page-turner and it left me walking round looking at the world we live in in a new light.  We really take our first-world lives and liberty for granted and it got me thinking, we are so lucky to be able to say and write what we like.  Freedom of speech is a precious thing and that goes for being and indie author on Amazon too.  We can write and publish what we want and the only people we have to answer to are our readers.  Of course, if I was to be offered an agent’s contract and a publishing deal … oh I’m so first-world but I have no morals and I need the cash.

It’s time to announce the winner of my first competition.  And it’s my friend Sophie from taekwondo!  Not just because she fits into the theme of the post but because she suggested that the Writers and Artists Yearbook of 2013 could be used as a weapon as well as a handy and informative guide to the publishing world.  And she’s going to Japan soon to study, which is cool, so she’ll need something to read.  Well done Sophie!

Trials and Tribulations Part 1

It’s competition time!  Read on to win a copy of The Writers and Artists Yearbook 2013 and find out the link between a writing event, doing my 3^rd Dan grading and reading a book about North Korea.

Well they say things go in threes and in the past three weeks, there have been three interesting things that have happened to me.  I've said three too many times, three times in fact, three!  Agh!

The thing is, they've all taken a part in making me look at things differently as I walk down the street, which is quite an achievement where I live.  The first is a writing event I went to, second was my 3^rd Dan black belt grading I took for taekwondo and the last was a book I read: Nothing to Envy: Real Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick.

 

I went down to London to attend an event called ‘How to Hook an Agent’ at Bloomsbury Press who are the nice people who produce The Writers and Artists Yearbook.  Of course, I didn't actually harbour any hopes that I would hook an agent, I didn't daydream at all about becoming the next J K Rowling, the wealth, the fame, the handsome doctor husband … Oh snap out of it L K.  The offices were very posh, I was called a ‘delegate’ and nobody swore or threw pens at me like in my day job – I would even go as far to say that I was treated like an adult.  Anyway, I met some nice people and the agents weren't as scary as I thought they would be.  In fact, they were human, in a well-dressed, perfect skin sort of way.

I think the table liked my pitch for The Ghost Hunters' Club, mostly because they all thought I said the word ‘cock’ instead of ‘cocktail’ – as if I’d make an inappropriate joke in a room full of polite and serious people?  One thing I did pick up on though was that they weren't that keen on people who had self-published, or it turned out, school teachers.  Well that’s me buggered then.  I had my fifteen minutes with my agent, she listened politely but I don’t think I was her cup of tea; she did give me some useful advice though.  Write another novel and use that one to pitch to agents.  Good job I’m halfway through one – it’s called A Twist of Mild Virginia – the last time I looked at it was three years ago, but it’s a start.  Doddle.

The reason I haven’t immediately launched myself into finishing my novel is because I then had to jump into the tribulation that was taking my 3^rd Dan Black Belt.  Now taking a black belt grading is a bit like giving birth, you look back on it with misty eyes but they day itself is a chuffing ordeal.  Only in taekwondo, there’s no chance of getting an epidural and I really thought I’d blown it this time …

While I was at ‘How to Hook an Agent’ I was given a complimentary copy of The Writers and Artists Yearbook 2013.  I've already got a copy so I’m going to give this one away.  All you have to do is like my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/theghosthuntersclub and say why you’d like one.  The funniest comment wins it!  Winner will be announced (with links) on next week’s blog.

Next week – what happened at my grading and why not having a taekwondo belt is like having no underpants …

Star Trek, Wine and the Internet

This week I've been putting off all those jobs in favour of messing around on the internet …

I have to confess, I am looking forward to mid-May and the release of the new Star Trek film.  I’m a bit of a fan.  I don’t profess to having been to any conventions, nor do I like dressing up as any of the characters because I’m an adult and I understand that the programme is make-believe.  However, I have seen all the episodes and I know that a Klingon isn't a clear plastic sheet to wrap your sandwiches in, that they’re from Qo’noS and that the T in Captain James T Kirk stands for Tiberius.

I was reading an article in Writing Magazine the other day about our (writers) use of the internet.  It struck a chord as I've been on holiday from my secret job, writing a new story and spending some time on the internet as well.  And by spending, I mean of course, procrastinating.  The writer spoke about how, in days of yore, writers would shut themselves away to write but now we have the internet distract us.  Of course, the internet is essential to any indie writer; our very existence depends on the internet.  Then there’s all the social networking: Twitter, Facebook, blogging and the constant checking in on our phones, tablets and toasters.  God knows what Instagram and Pinterest are – I've only got so many hours in the day to waste on this stuff.

The point, and link to Star Trek, was that the article spoke about the hive mind we have now created on the internet.  Now one of the baddest of baddies on Star Trek is the Borg.  They are bio-cyborg hybrids that are all connected to one hive mind.  Not for one second do I believe we should assimilate planets and drill new eye pieces into people, imagine the mess, but it was a good point.  Social networking has created a hive mind, a collective of writers, and thank God it has.  The internet means we can publish what we want, make connections to similar people and I've made some good friends in the process.  It’s given us a freedom that the publishing industry never had before.

There was one drawback though, there always is.  I was speaking to someone the other day about being an alcoholic and I do believe that some people can show the same behaviours with social networking.  If you can remember a world before the Internet, which I can, (I am that old but I use a lot of moisturiser), then you can probably live a couple of days without checking your Twitter or Facebook account.  But for those who have grown up with it, I wonder how they would get on if an EMP pulse took out every silicon chip and they weren’t able to check their messages on their smart phones?  I suspect that there would be more than a few people in their twenties and teens who would be breaking out in a sweat in a matter of minutes.  Personally, I have the same relationship with alcohol as I do with social networking.  I enjoy a glass of wine in the evening but when it’s time to work it’ll be put back in the fridge.  The same goes for social networking, a bowl of punch makes a party, but a bottle of vodka a day means you've got a problem.

Now I need to crack on with some work, but I’ll just check on Twitter first …

If you want to do some procrastinating, then you can follow me on Twitter: @FenlandGirll or on Facebook:  www.facebook.com/TheGhostHuntersClub.  Hopefully it’ll be more fun than the hoovering you've been putting off.

Once Upon a Time in Iran …

I've been a bit busy but I'm back and currently working on a new story that I'm pretty much making up as I go along. Never fear, there'll be a ghost in it!  Meanwhile, I had a trip down memory lane today ...

There is a little known fact about myself that I don’t often share with people.  You all know about my love of the TV programme The Avengers, Cadbury’s giant chocolate buttons, taekwondo and my badly kept secret job.

I’m currently on my over-long holidays from the secret job and I've been wasting tax payers’ money/watching a film called Argo.  It’s based in Iran during the 1979 siege of the American Embassy in Tehran.  Six Americans escape into the Canadian ambassador’s residence and the CIA helped to create an outlandish plot to get them out of Iran by posing as a film crew.

What on earth has this got to do with my little known fact about myself?  I have been to Iran.  I often forget that fact but it’s true.  I went there when I was a child and just like in Argo, we had our own dash to the airport when the revolution really kicked off.  A lot of people don’t believe me when I say I've been there but you can ask my dad.  He’ll soon put you straight.

My father made big metal things – that’s about as much as I ever understood about his job.  He would often take contracts to work abroad where he would earn far more money than he would in the UK.  Germany, South Africa, Ghana, you name it; he’s been there, and of course, Iran.  He’s been caught up in at least a couple of military coups, a revolution and I do believe I was nearly sold in marriage to a gentleman in Africa for a number of goats.  My father got an awful lot of mileage out of that one when I was naughty.

I was six at the time, it was late 1978, and I can only remember flashes of our stay there.  My mother and I were due to be there for about six months but we only lasted about three on account of the revolution.  I remember my father carrying me around on his shoulders around the crowded streets of Ahwaz and people trying to touch my blond hair.  It was hot, and I don’t mean holiday in Spain hot, I mean f***ing hot.  I went to a school called Passaguard, where I much preferred the American kids to the British (they were friendlier).  I remember dressing up as a witch at Halloween, probably not the best pagan related costume to wear when in an Islamic country, and I remember the shop down the road that used to sell me sweets through a hole in the wall, which we nick-named Tescos.

I remember the young Iranian man, Abbas, whose parents owned ‘Tescos’ and who used to drive us kids to school.  According to my dad he could steal anything on demand and he gave me an orange and white striped ball and introduced me to pistachio nuts.  I wonder what happened to him.  I remember my mother going bonkers when I played with the scorpions outside the house and the guard who sat at the front of the small compound we lived in.  And I remember playing with the Iranian children who lived near our compound and picking up a working knowledge of Farsi (Persian).

I also remember having to chuck a few things into a bag, being bundled into a car and rushed onto an plane to Bahrain.  The Shah went into exile, the revolution had kicked off and being British in Iran wasn't very healthy.  When I got back I had to stand up in assembly at school and the teacher telling everyone where I’d been.  I doubt the kids understood where Iran was and to be honest, I don’t think I did either.  But there is one overall thing that I remember: the few Iranian people that I met were always very kind to a small and cheeky blond girl from Leicester.  We are all human beings, after all.

Remember, we are the sum total of our memories and it might be worth delving into those while we're writing.  Now how can I manufacture a visit to Iran by The Ghost Hunters' Club ...

L K Jay's novels and novellas can be downloaded from Amazon all over the world, and possibly even in Iran if they really wanted to.

Amazon UK  US(and India)  Canada  Germany  France  Italy  Spain  Brazil  Japan

The Ghost Hunters Return

It’s shameless self-publicity time!  I've been a busy bee and I've got another novel out – it’s the sequel to The Ghost Hunters Club and I've cunningly called it The Ghost Hunters Return.  Clever huh?

At last, the last T was dotted and the last I was crossed.  Oh hang on, I've been making like a ghost hunter and had a couple of glasses of wine.  But the idea was conceived about twenty months ago, about six months after I first finished The Ghost Hunters Club, and I had to write it down.  Despite being at work, I scribbled the plan down in the back of my planner, and Linda, Karen and Anna were returning.

I left the original story with Linda, Karen and Anna each getting what they really wanted.  It may not have seemed so at their immediate present but it was what they needed.  Only one had the traditional happy ending that ended in a relationship, as is the way with some chick lit, but I wanted to give them something else because in my opinion, why should the whim of a male character dictate the ending of a story and decide if it’s going to be happy or not?

However, I think the story deserved a sequel and one morning, the shape of the story came to me.  Besides, it meant that I got to visit a few more places and there were more bad dates to take inspiration from.  Men who don’t turn up, men who don’t understand the importance of being on time or bringing cash or even the virtue of blowing one’s nose, and men who don’t understand the importance of manners.  I apologise to the nice men I have in my life but seriously chaps, PICK YOUR KNUCKLES UP OFF OF THE FLOOR!

The interesting thing when I started writing was how much my life has changed since I finished writing the first Ghost Hunters Club.  I had moved back home to the Fens, changed jobs a couple of times and published some novels on Amazon.  I had also made some new writing friends from Twitter and so there was a lot more ghost hunting potential to be had.  It also meant that I had to go back into the memory banks and remember what it was like to live in Leeds again.  It turned out that that wasn't as important as I thought it was because most of the action takes place in Anna’s house but also I had no chance of getting back to Edinburgh, so that needed some artistic licence. 

There were some elements that I had to include: an accidental meeting with a famous person, lots of potential venues to set the ghost hunts and of course, Anna getting her leg over.  I was in luck as I had met the fabulous C L Raven and they were ghost hunting fans too and so the venues were not a problem.  We had great fun in Nottingham, Peterborough and the Hell Fire Caves and I was introduced to the EMF meter – another gadget for Linda to try.  But I could not ignore the publishing phenomenon that is Fifty Shades of Grey.  Now I’m not a fan of the book myself, I’d dearly like to punch Christian Grey in the face and give that drip Anastasia a jolly good talking to, but there was also no way that Anna was going to ignore that novel either.  So thank you E L James, you gave me a great idea for one of Anna’s ‘scenes.’  I liked to think of it as a mixture of Fifty Shades and The Exorcist, and I did consider poking myself in the eye after writing it as it was the closest I had been to writing a sex scene, but I had fun writing it and in the world of The Ghost Hunters Club, nothing ever goes according to plan!

The Ghost Hunters Return is now available to download from Amazon.  Linda, Karen and Anna are back, so are the other regular characters with a couple of new ones, both bad and good.

Amazon UK  Amazon US

The Ghost Hunters Meet Rathbone Kydd

I’m breaking all the blogging rules by posting something that is longer than a thousand words but it’s a Ghost Hunters Club special, so make a cup of tea, sit down, snigger and enjoy …

The time is drawing closer, the world is holding its breath as the UK takes centre stage of the greatest show on earth. Oh hang on, I’m getting mixed up, that was the Olympics.  But the world’s most talented and beautiful screen stars are gathering in Hollywood, waiting with baited breath, agh no silly me, that’s the Oscars.  And the other event to rock the world’s media?  Why, that would be the hotly anticipated sequel to The Ghost Hunters’ Club of course, cunningly entitled The Ghost Hunters Return.  And in celebration, and to show off the new cover of The Ghost Hunters’ Club, I’ve got my good pal KJ Bennett to drag his character, Rathbone Kydd, from the novel Rathbone Kydd – Sex n Drugs n Quantum Stuff to interview Linda, Karen and Anna from my novel.  Fictional characters interviewing each other – this is so post-modern, even someone as full of crap as me can’t believe it! 

RK: So, er, hi chick ... and chick, and, erm, chick. Great to be in the company of three such great-looking women. Make yourselves comfy, fluff the cushions, make coffee if you like ... mine’s black, no sugar, thanks. Right: anyone up for a massage? I ache like hell round the shoulders, I was wondering if one of you would be willing to volunteer ...

LINDA: Chick? Chick? Where do you think I came from, a chicken’s bottom?

RK: No. Huh, wouldn’t that make you an egg?

KAREN: I’ll give you black with no sugar, mister, and I’ll have milk and sugar in my coffee thanks.

ANNA: Well you can fluff my cushions, I like the moustache ...

RK: OK, OK, don’t get tetchy! Only joking. So, three single ladies in good jobs and in need of lurve, eh? How about you each tell me a little about yourselves, y’know, jobs, interests, scandalous tales of your love lives, cup size, full contact details, et cetera. Let’s start with, hmm, Linda.

LINDA: Well young man, I’ve just been promoted and I’m now a deputy head in a posh private school in Edinburgh.  I’ll get to teach nice children instead of the plebs I had in my last job.  And did you behave yourself at school, Mr Kydd, hmm?  Anyway, I’m off men at the moment, so you can jolly well get your hand off of my knee, or I’ll have to put you in detention.

RK: Sorry, old habits and all. ‘Off men ...’ hmm, a challenge. Anyway, moving on (and checking the name badges) ... Karen. You look fit. A dancer? Stripper, maybe?

KAREN: Don’t push it pal, or I’ll set Linda on you.  I’m a martial arts instructor and I could snap you like a twig.  Except I won’t as you’ve just made me a coffee. 

RK: The least I could do. KJ said the budget wouldn’t stretch to whiskey, or drugs. Might have a bit of cheap sherry stashed away, for later, though.

KAREN: Anyway, we like ghost hunting, we’ve been on a few and I’m the first one to see a dead real ghost.  Excuse the pun.

RK: Not sure about excusing it ... ignoring it’s an option though, right?  Don’t look at me like that, I’m just jesting. Right, that leaves Karen, no, Anna. Sorry, KJ’s writing on those badges is crap – much like his novels, so I hear. So, Kar–Anna (wow, sorry, sounds like some Russian chick) – what is it you do? As if I couldn’t guess.

ANNA: I’m a single parent but don’t let that put you off.  I have very well behaved children.  I work as a personal assistant to the director of a Northern Railway Company.  His name is Graham and he really likes trains – oh, and he likes to come ghost hunting with us as well.  Would you like to come ghost hunting with us, Randall? Linda has a very impressive torch.

RK: Wha – who the hell is Randall? It’s Rathbone. Rath-emphasis-on-the-BONE. RATHBONE. It’s OK, I’m calming down, Kar-damnit-Anna! AN-NA. Anna. Right, got it.

Linda rolls her eyes skyward.

RK: So. Ghost hunting ... OH! Is that why you call yourselves The Ghost Hunters’ Club? I wasn’t taking it literally, I just thought it was ’cos you dated a bunch of stiffs. In your case AN-NA (phew) I guess I’m right. Train spotter for a boss? Is he the Daddy, too?

ANNA: I’m not pregnant, I’m just curvy.  You have so blown it Randall, Rathbone, whatever, and I don’t mean in a fun way.  Anyway, you’re old enough to be my dad.  Bloody men.

RK: No, I didn’t mean you looked pregnant. It’s just that you mentioned being a mother, and I assumed, y’know, train spotters have urges, probably, and there’s you with the curves and the pretty face, and there’s him with the anorak and the note book, and it can’t be easy for you, with the kids an’ all, and there’s those long lonely nights with the screaming and all that. And did you call me old? I’m only old in linear time scales. On my own scale I’m twenty-five, so probably a few years younger than you.

KAREN: Leave her alone!  But you’re right Rathbone, we went ghost hunting because we were fed up of going out with rubbish men.  I mean, how hard is it to turn up on time, remember to go to the cash point and remember whether you’re married or not?  We thought we’d throw our lot in with the ghosts; more chance of getting a spook on camera than finding a decent man.

RK: “A decent man” ... hmm ... I’m sorta decent, so much so that people say I’m IN-decent.

LINDA: (prods Rathbone) So are you actually real? What was time travel like? Is that moustache real?

RK: Am I real? Are you real? What is real? There was that Frenchie guy, Des Kart, I think he was called, who said, “I think, therefore I am”. Don’t know what all that shit was about, but the Moody Blues stole it and used it at the start of their LP On the Threshold of a Dream. Still doesn’t explain if my moustache is real, though. Hmm, maybe the moustache is the only real thing here ...  Right, time travel … what it feels like … it’s a bit like jelly, but faster.

But enough about me (did I really say that?), tell me about your ghost hunting adventures: what do you actually do: go places, pretend to look for ghostly spirits, but hit the spirit of the gin bottle instead? And you, Anna, who looks after the kids, or do you take ’em with you?

LINDA: Oh, now we get to the sensible questions!  Well, we do like going on ghost hunts.  We’ve been all over the country – Leeds, Whitby, Leicester and Edinburgh, which is the home of the scary ghost hunt.  But like the saying goes, looking for ghosts is like looking for a decent man, you can keep searching and you’ll never find one and then one will pop up when you are least expecting it.

KAREN: That happened to me.  I was let down by a man and then when I went to attend a friend’s do, I got a bit more than I bargained for.  I wish I’d had a camera with me but of course, you never do when you need one.

ANNA: I don’t normally have the children with me when we go ghost hunting, they go to stay with their grandparents when I do, but I might in the future.  Besides, that is the time I have to myself and I wouldn’t want them to see me get drunk and behave badly.  We’ve had a bit of a break from the ghost hunting but we’re going on a few more adventures soon, I hear Cambridge, London and even Paris might be on the cards.  Oh la la!

RK: Ooooo-la-Anna! You sound sexxx-sssee when you’re speaking French? Are you fluent? It is the language of lurve, y’know?

ANNA: Oh I am very fluent...

LINDA: Pack it in Anna, you don’t know where he’s been.  Sorry Mr Kydd, but really ...

KAREN: Ladies, please!  I’m sure the men in France are as useless as the ones we’ve experienced in the UK.  We are in the EU you know, I’m sure there’s been a ruling from Brussels about the percentage of bad dates a woman has to go on.

RK: And Karen: why would a guy let you down? Apart from being a hottie, who’d risk the injury? Anyway, I bet that ghost thing was scary. I mean I’ve been in a similar situation when I worked in that gay pub in Exeter. Before I knew the lay of the land, so to speak, I went on a ghost walk round the back of the Cathedral with some of the guys, late one Saturday night, and let me tell you, a few scary things popped up that night, and I ran a mile. Talk about giving me the willies!

LINDA: Well, ghosts weren’t all that Anna saw in the underground tunnels in Edinburgh, but it was the best place for ghost hunting.  It’s a spooky city and full of atmosphere.

ANNA: Ahhh, the Edinburgh vaults, such nice memories.....

KAREN: Anna, I don’t know how you got away with it!  Although you’d be surprised how looking for ghosts and men can get mixed up.  They’re both elusive and at least the ghosts have an excuse for being unreliable, what with being dead and all.

RK: I don’t see they can use dead as an excuse. It’s not like they’ve got anywhere else to go, is it? So, tell me, did you find Dracula in Whitby? Yeah, I’m well read, I know the original story.

LINDA: No, but we did find a lot of tacky gifts, including some edible coffins.

KAREN: And I met a horrible ghost tour guide who didn’t believe in ghosts and tried to nick my wallet.  Good job the girls came to rescue me, I could have done him some damage.

RK: Now, ladies, tell me about these disasters you’ve had at speed dating. I mean, speed? Eh? I’m not surprised it went badly: anyone who tries to form a relationship based around drug abuse is destined to misery.

LINDA: Well I wished I’d taken some bloody drugs before I went, it was ghastly.  Turned out one of the men was a parent at my school, was terrified he would mention me to his irritating son, so I had to lie about my name.

KAREN: And one of the men said I should impress him so when I told him I could punch through wood, he wanted to know if I was a lezza.  I pointed out that he was both rude and offensive, both to me and the lesbian community, and I offered to use his head as a piece of wood.  He declined.

ANNA: I got stuck with a very odd looking train spotter called Graham.  Total odd ball and kept staring at my boobs.  I get that a lot.  I suspect he still lives with this mother but I’ve got this feeling that that wasn’t the last time I would see him and of course, I ended up working for him.  Turns out he likes ghost hunting as well.

RK: What was that, Anna? I sorta lost track, staring at your boobs. KJ’s looking at his watch and making circular gestures. Don’t know what all that shit’s about. Anna, anything else I can, erm, do for you, mon amie?

ANNA: Oh well Mr Kydd, I do have some gardening that needs doing.  The lawn needs a mow, and the rose bushes need a trim.  I like a rugged outdoor man who’s good with his hands....

RK: Gardening – agh!  Ladies, it’s been really great talking with you all. You’re all great looking girls and you’re even more attractive when you talk. If you ever need a friend to talk with after one of the ghost hunts, or just a real man to … erm, you know? … then you know where to find me. Course, I may have teleported to a different space/time continuum by then, but you’ll know where I was.

This interview was originally published on K J Bennett’s blog in December 2012 and was republished with his kind permission.  Rathbone Kydd, Sex n Drugs n Quantum Stuff is available to download from Amazon.

The Ghost Hunters Return is due out in March, not long now …