More out of order than a Pulp Fiction movie

I was thrilled at the beginning of this month to release my third book. Ignoring, for a moment, my supernatural thriller novel, it was book two in my travel memoir series and was aptly titled, “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Book two continues and completes the story started in “Mistakes were Made” which was inspired by our unfortunately timed attempt to move from the USA to a beachside idyll of retirement in sunny Spain. It was badly timed because we began preparations for the journey in March 2020 and, if you cast your mind back for a moment, 2020 was forever immortalized by something else of some small consequence that was to happen later that year.


With “It’s not as bad as it looks” bringing the tale up to current day, I was left thinking about what to write next.

I have two other work in progress (WIP) projects I am currently working on, and to be honest I should really be focussing on them instead of writing this blog and thinking of yet another side project, but I enjoyed writing the funny travel memoirs and people seem to enjoy them. Then I had a thought…

It brought to mind a series of travel adventures I took part in during a miss-spent youth, when I was both single and the fortunate owner of large and rapid motorcycles. This was in the mid-1980’s, a period during which I was in my late teens and early twenties. Unlike all of my friends, instead of flying to Ibiza to drink copious amounts of cold fizzy lager and chase girls, each year I took a few weeks off work and picked a suitably remote and challenging destination to ride my bike to.

Without exception, the trips were all lonely and arduous. Both too hot and too cold, too wet and too arid; every one an arse cheek pummeling slog of endurance, and looking back I have to say, I wonder what on earth I was thinking. But I am certain that those trips hold pay dirt, a veritable cornucopia of humorous anecdotes and interesting trivia about a world long gone. If only, thirty years later, I can coax the increasingly feeble bag of grey tapioca that is now my brain into remembering a single one of them.

There were the usual easy trips to Europe, France and Italy mainly, but I also rode through the entirety of Scandinavia to reach Nord Cap, far inside the Arctic Circle, and one fateful year a scary ride through the communist Eastern Bloc to reach Istanbul and eventually Asia.

I do recall there were dead horses and armed checkpoints, reindeers eaten and tortoises run over, all amid a smattering of crashes, injuries and lasting friendships. I was terribly young and most of the time entirely ignorant of the danger I was barely skirting in my exposure and isolation.

That’s me below, stood beside my woefully uncomfortable GPZ1000RX, wearing a giant condom, and enjoying myself not one bit at the crossing into the Arctic Circle.

Ibiza? What were they thinking, those sun-kissed fools!

Andy C Wareing crossing into the Arctic Circle

Unfortunately, it means that book three, if it does get written, will be way out of chronological sequence with the other two. It doesn’t seem to have done Star Wars or Pulp Fiction any harm, but I do wonder how to market that and how it would be received.

Let me know your thoughts if you can, and follow the blog, and give me a follow if you are interested in hearing more about this and other projects.

Oh, and don’t forget to read book one and book two in the laugh out loud travel memoir series. Available to buy on your local Amazon store and always free on Kindle Unlimited.

And, last thought I promise, writers need hugs too and the biggest, squeeziest hug you can give to a writer is an honest review.

Thanks for the kind read.

Give a hug - leave a review

The challenges and opportunities of writing in multiple genres.

In traditional publishing it has long been the mantra that an author needed to pick, and subsequently stick to, a single genre.

“You need to specialize, because a publisher can’t afford to try and reach a whole new audience with every single book. As an author, neither can you.


– Rachelle Gardner, Literary Agent

Certainly, writing in multiple genres creates significantly more work and less opportunity to leverage existing, publications. But the quote above relates more to traditional publishing. The Indie publishing world allows for a little more leeway even if it brings with it additional challenges.

A newsletter is a good example, People subscribe, usually, because a book resonates, it speaks to them, and through it they make a connection to the author. They want more of the same. If somebody subscribed because they enjoyed ‘Mistakes were Made,’ my humorous little travel memoir, then they are unlikely to be interested in hearing about my next Science Fiction or Paranormal book.

Proof in point, this year I have been remiss with keeping my newsletter up to date for that precise reason.

It also makes advertising and marketing more of a challenge, for similar reasons. There is little point offering a discount on my little travel series to a reader who wants more gore and horror (although there has been a fair amount of terror in some of the Airbnb’s we have stayed in on our travels).

Still, somehow, I find that is the path that I have chosen to tread. To date I have published one amusing travel memoir and one supernatural thriller. There is also a fully completed manuscript out there, circulating around literary agents, written in the Science Fiction/Fantasy genre.

And, today, (drum rolls please), I am excited to announce, that Book Two in the travel memoir series, ‘It’s not as bad as it looks’ has just been released on Amazon stores worldwide.

Click on the image below to buy a copy or read it for free on Kindle Select.

It's not as bad as it looks

The latest book follows on from our journey documented in Mistakes were Made. It begins in Somerset and then…well, you will just have to read it to find out…

With that WIP completed, my attention shifts back to finishing the sequel to ‘The Haunting of Edgar Allan Poe.’ It is currently about 50% finished and should be published by the end of the year.

I simply enjoy writing in different genres. I have ideas for several new books circulating in this crusty hairless, old noggin, and relish the opportunity and challenge of writing in whatever genres they end up dropping into.

I recognize that by doing so I have probably made the path to any commercial success steeper and more slippery than it perhaps needed to be. I guess, if I wanted to take an easier path I could have written something commercially more viable, something about sex craved bitey vampires from Mars clothed only in boob tubes and mini-skirts (oh, there’s an idea—one sec while I make a note).

I think, in the end, two things resonate for me. Write what I want to write and do it as well as I possibly can.

Abraham Lincoln said it better than me.

I do the very best I know how – the very best I can; and I mean to keep on doing so until the end.

Follow the blog, give me a like and a share. Check out the rest of the books and don’t forget to feed the author’s ego and line that threadbare pocket and leave an honest review!


New Beginnings

New beginnings as we move from the USA back to the UK. Previous book has been completely re-released and news on the latest SciFi book.

Apologies to you kind reader but I have been remiss in my ability to post a new blog the last few weeks. We decided to return from the USA to the UK and so our time has been consumed by selling our home in the US, organizing flights for us and the pups, booking AirBnB’s, buying cars and desperately passing all of the COVID tests and paperwork need to travel internationally. Good news is we all made it safe and sound.

We stayed in our old home town of Southport for a few days and picked up a second-hand Mini Cooper which, so far, is working out great. We then headed towards Ripponden in Yorkshire and are now in a tiny cottage on the Adwell estate south of Oxford. Hopefully the house we bought (mostly sight unseen) will be ready in November so until then we are gypsying it around the UK.

There are new beginnings for my last book as well this week. I took some advice and renamed and re-packaged the book, so “Surcease of Sorrow” is now called “The Haunting of Edgar Allan Poe.” It is the same book, although the title, blurb and cover convey the topic in a much clearer way I think and recent book orders would seem to agree. I took advantage of a Beta program offered by Amazon and released a hard cover as an option too. I don’t expect to sell many, as the publishing costs are significant and the margins for the author are low, but hey, who knows?

The Haunting of Edgar Allan poe

The latest Work in Progress (WIP) is progressing too. I have spent a lot of time focussing on the character ARC of Layla who is the lead protagonist in the story. I don’t think I focussed enough effort on this aspect with Haunting, and while Joseph does develop as a character it is almost accidental. Like I have said in previous posts, every day is a school day and the main thing for me is to just keep developing the craft. BTW – for any budding writers I would highly recommend a book by Libbie Hawker called “Take off your pants”. It really delves into story creation and development.

I have received some lovely reviews from strangers and many have agreed to join me on the journey by following my Facebook page which is extremely motivating!

If you did buy a book – I thank you from my heart. Please keep me away from the welfare office by leaving a review on your local Amazon store, and if you enjoyed the blog, please follow along and subscribe to the newsletter.

While my Guitar Gently Wept

Some dear friends bought me a guitar today as a leaving present.

I say they bought it me today, but in reality, today was merely the day I took receipt of her.

She had enjoyed a journey of over twenty thousand miles over a period of twelve months for us to be finally united in musical disharmony. As a humble acoustic guitar she may be the most well-travelled instrument outside the entourage of a world famous internationally touring rock band. On her journey, she has obtained Diamond Platinum status on British Airways, Delta and Virgin, and accrued more air miles than most of us who travel a lifetime.

She began her journey in Maryland USA, where she was purchased and tastefully customized with a silver rose inlay on her delicate lower frets. She was sent with love and letters to a remote villa in Altea Spain, but her seductive curves attracted the sharp, but predominantly heterosexual (and almost definitely pervy) attention of the customs officers in Madrid. She sat there for a long time, imprisoned, as we in the villa were planning our Covid inspired escape to England. Sadly, when she was finally released and delivered we had already left.

In her ever deteriorating packaging she took a long detour back to MD; weary mail hub by weary mail hub she was rudely handled and sorted and stamped and scanned. She rattled along in the backs of vans and jostled in packed crates in the airless and frosty holds of 747’s until she turned up unexpectedly on the doorstep of the original sender, who stood on his doorstep, reading all of the airline and customs stamps with his head tilted, scratching his beard and straightening his pork pie hat with an odd and quizzical expression.

Off she went again, this time with confident certainty to arrive at her intended destination, Somerset, England. Back in the cradle of the 747 she streaked across the Atlantic. She quickly cleared customs in Heathrow, where the customs officers were immune to her sexy tonal roundness in the way only the British can be. The British Mail van that sought to deliver her turned the corner onto West Street just as we pulled out of the driveway of the cottage and headed in a cab back towards where she had originated, Heathrow.

Undelivered once more, her packaging ripped and rent, and cheekily revealing more than a bridge too far, back she went to Heathrow. At some point I like to think that me and my beauty were within the same terminal, star crossed lovers, separated by mere feet from a romance to challenge the ages. We may have been on the same 747 that blistered the skies back towards America. But I was destined for Atlanta and you were returned to an ever increasingly startled bearded man in MD.

With an indefatigable spirit not seen since WWII, his pork pie was once again straightened and back to the UPS office he strode with steps never more resolute. This time to mail the seductive curves of the twangy (yes, twangy, the guitar has an amazing tone, but I am not the maestro you believe me to be from my profile picture) goddess to an address in the USA.

And that’s where I finally found my leaving present, twelve months after the start of our combined journeys, from the USA to England, across Europe to Spain, back to England and finally a return to the USA. This beautiful, huggable beauty was waiting for me in my garage this morning. Sent by incredible lifelong friends who would not cease in their efforts to unite us. The most travelled and seductive guitar in the world (and her incredible airline status gets me access to first class travel whenever I am with her 😉

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Mistakes were Made

Available now in the Amazon stores worldwide.

In a year that most of the world would spend in pyjamas, we decided to give up great jobs, sell our house and everything else we owned, and move from the United States to the Mediterranean idyll of Spain, all amidst the deadliest global pandemic since 1918. This short story describes the exciting, tragic and humorous rollercoaster tale of how our family was forced to constantly react to the changing whims of international governments, virus hotspots and quarantine zones, as we battled across Europe making ever increasingly knee-jerk decisions to try and keep our dream alive and our family safe.

Read about our adventures in this short story here: