Happy New Year!!!

H ours of happy times with friends and family

A bundant time for relaxation

P rosperity

P lenty of love when you need it most

Y outhful excitement at life’s simple pleasures

N ights of restful slumber

E verything you need

W ishing you love and light

Y ears and years of good health

E njoyment and mirth

A ngels to watch over you

R embrances of a happy years!

Merry Christmas from Siberia!

The legend of Snowflake comes from permanently frozen lands of Siberia. My granny used to tell it to me every Christmas in that special granny-voice of hers. She’s gone now, but the story lives. This Christmas I want to share it with you.

“She began her long descent far above the surface. Shivering from the cold, spinning slowly, she floated downwards. Her fall into the chasm seemed infinite and useless and, though she was surrounded by millions like her, loneliness was her only companion.

Gardener, Chapter 3

When we come to this world, we all face a journey – the one that lasts a lifetime. Our destination is rarely known in advance. There is a start, a clear end, a few milestones in between, but other than that our destination is for us to choose. Sometimes we’re lucky to pick nice wide roads covered in freshly laid tarmac and surrounded by fragrant fields and cool ocean breezes. Sometimes, all we seem to get is a tangle of dark wood paths that go round and round, backing onto themselves, confusing, hostile, and narrow as an edge of a blade. It’s on the glum narrow paths that we pick up talismans, fill them with force of our own belief and keep on going till we get to a good place. When we get to that good place, we might forget about the talisman, or we might keep it, forming that special attachment. What is a talisman? A piece of jewelry, a funny shaped stone, a fiery maple leaf, a memory, a thought, a belief? Life can sometimes be so hard that belief is all we have to go on and a talisman is the vessel to harness and store that belief. The belief that is ultimately ours, ours to transfer to any object we like. Pick your talismans along the way, fill them with all the brilliant force of your belief, but never form attachments to the physical vessel. The belief is yours, the strength is yours, you are the hero of your own journey and I hope you have a good one.

Now, those of you who bothered to read till this line might ask: What’s all this talk about talismans and journeys and beliefs? Well, but of course, what can it be but a “literary” equivalent to: Here you go, read Chapter 3 of the Gardener and I hope you enjoy it.

Fear

Fear… Fear is a feeling we are typically embarrassed of. From an early age we are told not to show fear, we are given examples of heroes – real or imaginary – who are never afraid. Yet, fear is a basic feeling. A feeling most of us are born with; an inbuilt mechanism to avoid danger and ensure survival. Our bodies are programmed to have fear built into them.

We all fear a lot without really knowing it. We fear being late for work, fear that the presentation we’ve been preparing for weeks will end in disaster, fear that our children will get hurt at school. The list of fears for an average modern human is never ending. Yet, when you ask most people about fear, what they think of is anti-courage. Anti-courage is cowardice. Fear can lead to it, just like it can lead to bravery. It’s when a man fears for his family, his country, his people, more than he fears for his own life that a hero is made. So, fear is more of an instinct than a feeling. It’s natural. But what if fears are suppressed, hidden, harbored? What if fear is so strong that it burns inside, consuming everything else? I’m not talking about phobias, I’m talking about feelings that all of us can experience at one time or another. Can fear like that lead to cruelty? Can it lead to death? Or will it make us stronger, forging us a heart of steel?

Gardener, Chapter 2

Life is a mystery, a truly fascinating experience. Sometimes you feel good for no apparent reason and sometimes nothing is able to put that smile back on your face. For me, one of the best anti-sadness devices has always been reading. Now when I’m writing a book myself, reading is also a way of unwinding, getting a break from a particularly stubborn plot knot and letting somebody else do the talking. Reading lets you in on other people’s lives, lets you experience the world in a different way, allows you to become somebody else. What better way to get your mind off your own problems?

I want to offer you the second chapter of the Gardener. Take a short break, forget about your worries and have a read. I hope you enjoy it... and if not, you can always vent off your disappointment in the comments!

Ursus Maritimus, The polar bear

Polar bear – the largest land predator on Earth... and one of the first standing to lose its natural habitat to climate change.

We’re living in times of change. We always seem too. Some changes are man-caused struggles for control and power, like the wars that scar our history too often; others are natural disasters caused by the Mother Nature herself. Change is important for human race. After all, it’s the greatest change of all – the Progress – that got us where we are now, that gave us our comfortable lifestyles and ability to do more than hunt for food most of our lives. Yet, as any change, the progress had its price. It’s not for me to decide whether we’ve paid too much. Is the loss of thousands of species too much? Is the loss of virgin forests, clean rivers and lakes, unspoilt natural resources too much? Could have the progress been achieved for a lower fee, if only we cared more, showed more respect for the planet that bore us? I’m afraid it could have cost less. I’m afraid history has already proven that there is always somebody who wouldn’t let simple moral concerns stand between them and what they ultimately want. Whatever the price.

Global warming

Global warming is the great crisis of our time. Up till recently, the topic was considered controversial, unfounded, sometimes even laughable. A lot of research went into studying the global warming phenomenon, the effect of greenhouse gases, our own impact on the planet and now vast majority of scientific world agrees. There is a problem and it can become a catastrophe if nothing is done about it.

Of course, our planet saw a lot of catastrophes in its lifetime. Even more so, a popular theory suggests that global warming is normal. We’re coming out of the latest ice age and the world is warming up. It’s perfectly natural. Yes, some animals are going to become extinct because of severe changes to their habitats, but, hey, that happened before. Not our fault. Nothing we can do about. Earth survived previous cataclysms and it will survive this one.

Dealing with loss

Before I begin today’s blog, I want to express my sincere gratitude for your kindness and support. It’s been a hard month and your kind words and good wishes guided me through the darkest moments, giving me strength and giving me hope.

When I first wrote an outline to the Gardener, condemning my main character, Alan Walker, to losing the people he loved, little did I know how close I would get to going through that myself. I say close and yes that means my dad is getting better. Oh so very slowly, but better nonetheless. Over the past few weeks he’s been moved to a good hospital, had neurosurgery and is now officially stable, though he will remain in a drug-induced coma for the next 3-4 weeks. His doctors say he has a chance for full recovery, which I know he does because he’s a fighter. He’s always been one.

Leaving to care for dad

I have bad news this week. I’ve got a phone call from my mum the day before yesterday while at work. It took a few minutes to understand through her tears what she was saying. It took a few more minutes for what she was saying to actually sink in. My father has had a stroke and he’s been taken to a hospital. He’s unconscious and his condition is critical.

I’m writing these words from a public access Internet terminal at Luton airport. I admit that my main reason is to take my mind off the delayed flight and I apologise for using you as a shoulder to cry on. Those of you who followed my blog from the beginning know that my family is far away. Leaving and working thousands of miles away from them always made their wellbeing a concern. I sometimes wondered what I would do if... How would I cope? Well, there was no question this time. Not a single doubt. I’m going to be with my dad for as long as it takes. I’m going to be there and I know deep in my heart that it will make a difference.

I will not be writing for a while, but I will get back in touch when everything’s okay. Thank you for being there for me.

9/11

Today is September 12th – my mother’s birthday – the day I loved from early childhood. I always remember making her presents myself, with my own hands. I’m sure they were never as amazing as I thought they were, but my mum’s face, her big bright smile, always convinced me otherwise. In 2001 I came to Britain. It was the first time I would miss her birthday. A month before the date, I’ve decided to create a website for her. A website full of best recipes out there, focusing heavily on deserts, which I knew my mum would particularly appreciate. I spent my lunch breaks in the library, using student internet access to get the recipes for the site. I was determined: we’d spend the day apart, but we would never forget it. What I never forgot was September 11th.

Gardener, Chapter 1

Heavy envelopes with sample chapters from both Snowflake and Gardener left my local post office an eternity ago... well more like a week ago. Now all I can do is wait. While I wait, though, you don’t have to. I’ve uploaded the first chapter of the Gardener and I hope you enjoy reading it.

While writing this first chapter, I got to know Professor Tony Walker as a brilliant scientist who is misunderstood by the majority of his colleagues. He is not unique and his struggle is not unusual. History gives us plenty examples of gifted talented people who were never understood by their friends, colleagues, by the society they served. It seems that genius of a person is rarely acknowledged by his/her contemporaries; that job is left for descendants, for next generations. Why is that?

Literary Agents, Myth or Reality

That’s it. Yesterday, I’ve sent off the last envelope with my manuscript submission to the last agent. I feel strangely nervous, a sort of stomach-tight high, the way I felt after exams at school and University. You submit the paper; you get your stuff and make your way home. You feel drained and hollow and desperate to know the results. And yet, you feel elated. You’ve done it. All you do now is wait. Wait, but try not to think about it. Waiting consciously has a peculiar effect of stretching the time dimension to infinite lengths. Get your mind on other things and time suddenly speeds up to a gallop.

But as I wait, I have a question to ask. I’ve read a lot about the process of getting a book published over the last two weeks. I understand and accept the difficulties involved in becoming one of the chosen ones who actually get to see their work in book shops. What concerned me were the reports of the so-called rogue agents, the ones who charge reading/editing fees, who promote their own paid services and participate in referral schemes. There is also plenty criticism directed at amateur or incompetent agents. I would like to hear your opinion on this topic.

Dishonesty and incompetence of literary agencies, is it myth or reality?

Writing Synopsis

I’ve decided to take your advice and submit my work to a literary agency. It took a few days fighting doubts and a couple of phone conversations with my parents to make that decision and now I feel scared and exited at the same time.

I’ve done some research during the last week and it made me realise that getting a book published is a long and complicated process. The first thing that I came across was Rejection. Don’t get discouraged by rejections. It’s all right to get a lot of rejections. Everyone gets rejections. Etcetera, etcetera. Oh well, at least I’ll know what to expect...

Gardener, Introduction

Following the general outline of the Snowflake, I’ve decided to start the Gardener with an introduction, a part that’s meant to pull the reader in, give them a glimpse of the story before the story really began. It is this glimpse that I want to share with you today. I hope you enjoy it.

Gardener, The Story

As I promised in my previous post, the first draft of the Snowflake is now complete. But as I celebrate writing circa 100K words (I still can’t believe I’ve done it!), the Gardener pulls at my thoughts, distracting me, demanding my attention.

The Gardener is a continuation of the idea behind the Snowflake, but not a continuation of the story itself. The plot is different, the characters are different, even the location and timespan have been changed. What two books share in common is topic – modern computer/cyber crime, focus on a single human flaw – a feeling minor in itself, but which has a capacity to lead to severe consequences, and a legend – a story that is told by one of the characters explaining the meaning of the novel. Just as the Snowflake, I’ll try to make Gardener modern, engaging and realistic, while trying to deliver a greater meaning (though I promise, no preaching). And so, to the story and its main players...

Answering questions

Let me use this post to answer some of your questions.

Firstly, my “book-writing” software. I initially created the program as a sort of brain dump management (in case anyone wonders, dump is actually an official term used in software world, most commonly referring to memory dumps), a customized spreadsheet that suited me and my somewhat hectic brain structure. Through regular bursts of enthusiasm and weekends spent in front of the computer screen, the program acquired features suitable for story writing. It allows me to input main characters, their physical and psychological descriptions, their relationships, major positive and negative traits. When the main characters are established I can move onto setting out main plot milestones, detailing the characters, the places, the motivations. Once all the data’s in place, the program produces a plot outline, providing an approximate chapter by chapter breakdown, timing for major revelations and for red herrings (who enjoys a book without them). It also produces some nice wall charts that are very useful for keeping a visual image of the story.

Now, this is starting to sound pretty good even to me. Of course, it’s not that wonderful. The program has a few bugs, few problems here and there... and its main flaw – it doesn’t actually write books. It’s a tool. A tool that works fine for me, but would probably cause an outcry of negative feedback if it was ever marketed. It’s handy, it keeps my thoughts organised, it helps me to re-focus my brain from job-oriented to book-oriented and ... that’s all really.

The Gardener

I haven’t quite finished the Snowflake as I write this, but it’s oh so close. I’m planning to type the final stop to the final sentence sometime next week. Still, the story is there. My characters have finished telling the tale and I’m simply documenting it now.

The Gardener, on the other hand, is untold. It’s floating around me like early-morning mist, revealing very little, yet promising so much. Writing a book, as I found out, is as much of a journey for the writer as it is for the readers. And I can’t wait to step onto the new trail and see where it leads me. As always, I welcome everyone along.

Writing full time. Second novel, Gardener, is conceived.

I’m back and I have great news. Spending time at home with my family provided an enormous boost to my writing. That is, in addition to a huge bubble of happiness that’s still floating somewhere in my chest. I have to constantly check that my feet are still touching the ground!

Being away from the day job meant I could write full time and, for the first time since I started, I actually felt like a writer. I had a massive influx of ideas from the day one. Not being able to fit them all in into the Snowflake, I started recording them into my software program. It didn’t take long for it to inform me that I had enough plot milestones to start another book.
I’ve chosen ‘Gardener’ as the title for my second novel. Just as the Snowflake, the Gardener will have a single human flaw entwined into the back-story. And just as the Snowflake, there will be a legend to give a deeper meaning to this modern tale of computer crime. The flaw I’ve chosen for the second book is fear. Fear that either makes you stronger, or slowly erodes your soul until there’s nothing left.

Snowflake, The Legend

I have already mentioned the reason I decided to use Snowflake as the title for my novel.

In the novel Sally Clarke tells her daughter, Amanda, a legend about a Snowflake. She explains to the child that kindness fights cruelty, friendship is better than enmity, truth is worth much more than lies and only indifference has no antidote. Snowflakes have been sent as a reminder to people to care for each other, to clear their mind and soul of negativity, to notice the beauty of the world around them. Tiny snowflakes, each an epitome of care taken in crafting it differently from millions of others. They are like a human souls carved in ice: so similar, yet each unique.

I’m going away on a three week long holiday in a few days time. I’ll be visiting my parents, my grandparents and my German shepherd. I’m also planning to do some serious writing in a hope that the walls and the gardens of my childhood home will nourish my imagination. In the meanwhile, I’d like to leave the Legend of the Snowflake for you to read.

Indifference

It’s easy to understand why people do good things; it’s the bad that puzzle. In children’s fairytales villains are simple, two-dimensional characters with little depth and the only fitting description of evil. As grownups we understand that good and bad have shades of grey in between. How is it that a real-life villain is made? Can simple feelings, even positive traits, turn into flaws nasty enough to make us into a villain? Can admiration turn to envy, fear into cruelty, contentment into indifference?

Indifference is the feeling I want to talk about today. Is indifference a vice? Is indifference to human suffering as bad as causing that suffering? Is indifference good or bad, or neutral? I see indifference as a null-feeling, a no-feeling. To me it’s not an opposite of care, but a no care, a complete absence of compassion. We get so engrossed into our own lives, our own problems that we forget to think about other people. When I talk about indifference I hear people responding: “What’s the point, there’s nothing I can do about it.” You don’t need to be able to do anything to care. And if enough of us care, maybe then we’ll finally be able to do something.

Global Economic Crisis

I don’t think that the topic of Economic Crisis needs an introduction. The one that happened, or rather got accepted and announced, just over six months ago affected nearly every one of us. People like me who were trying to get a foothold on the property ladder, found getting mortgages impossible; people already owning a home suffered from bad rates (unless you had a tracker), negative equity, even repossession. Coincidentally, organisations started major re-structuring and improvement of the overall org charts A.K.A. sacking. And job losses became another big hit of this crisis that turned global.

It didn’t take long for the why-it-all-happened programs to appear on TV, so at least now we have an official version of what went wrong. I don’t know exactly why the financial bubble burst, but I believe that there were plenty cyber criminals who used the situation to their advantage, worsening the effects of crisis further. I’m trying to describe one such possible scenario in the Snowflake. However, before I do, I want to ask for your opinion. Would you agree that serious computer crime doesn’t get enough coverage and that the real extent of cyber machinations is much greater than we are lead to believe?

Boss

I remember learning the word boss at a fairly young age (it actually sounds the same in Russian). It was someone my dad argued with, my mum got upset by, while my granny kept insisting that hers shouldn’t have got the job in the first place. Having worked professionally for a while now, I can declare that I’ve been lucky with bosses. Our managers are people who used to do the same job we do. They understand the difficulties and encourage openness and collaboration. Still, they do, at times, force their point of view. With explanations, of course. They oversee the projects and sometimes they have to call the shots. But if I believe my manager is wrong, I go and talk to him. No problem there. The situation I’m trying to describe in the Snowflake is the opposite.

There are certain jobs that require more responsibility on the manager’s part, the jobs that carry higher penalties for failure. In a job like that, a boss might be stricter, have a more totalitarian point of view. Now, if your boss was like that and he/she happened to firmly believe something that you felt was wrong, what would you do? And what if you already tried to point out the mistake and he/she refused to listen, refused to even consider it? How would you go about it?

Have you ever faced a situation like this?

Snowflake, Chapter 3

I want to give special thanks to everyone who follows my blog, leaves comments and answers my seemingly unrelated questions. I promise that all the posts on this blog are related to various topics raised in the novel and I hope that one day I’ll be able to write your names in the acknowledgements section on the first pages of the Snowflake. As for now, I’d like to give you Chapter 3.

Child in distress

Humans are social animals. We need community, small group of people, who are always there for us to rely on. We enjoy ‘me-time’, but still crave that emotional high that only interaction with others can bring. Sharing, chatting, having a laugh, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Yet, it is the ability to ask for help, ability to use experience of others, that differentiate us from the rest of the animal kingdom and give a deeper meaning to our need for interaction.

We’ve all been there. In a place with seemingly no exit. In a place like this, our family, friends, loved ones, even people we met on the tube never to see them again, can provide valuable advice, insight, help. Of course, asking for that help can be tough. Especially, if you are a child, your parents are not there and people around you not realising that there’s anything wrong. What do you do? Who do you turn to?

Regular breaks while writing.

Your feedback is proving to be a great inspiration for my writing. Like a siren, it sends out a glorious song that my muse doesn’t seem able to refuse. I wrote two chapters in the last week and started a third. Unfortunately, my personal monster – the doubt – also decided to make a comeback and I need your advice. Recently I’ve been finding it very easy to write. Not only that, writing seems to happen without much intervention on my part. Sometimes, I feel that somebody has uploaded all the information into my head and I’m simply relaying it onto computer screen. I’ve done some reading on the topic, but couldn’t find a definitive answer. There’s, of course, the infamous NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) approach where participants write 50,000 words in a month, though that’s not quite it. Still, there many published writers out there who insist that writing ‘on a single breath’ (as we Russians say) leads to plot stagnation and monotony in narrative. I would like to hear your opinion on the question. Is it necessary to take regular breaks while writing, even when you have plenty to write about?

Snowflake, Chapter 2

I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed reading the Snowflake. I surely have enjoyed writing it for you. To be perfectly honest, I expected more criticism. My hands did tremble slightly every time I checked the page. And yes, I have indeed mistyped the address too many times to count this week.

Roger, your words touched me deeply. I’m glad that Internet gives us this unique chance to meet and talk to interesting and strong people like you.

I will try to incorporate all your feedback into my writing and, hopefully, one day I’ll be able to get simple pleasure from knowing that somewhere out there, there are people escaping reality of everyday life and losing themselves in my stories. In the meanwhile, please read the second chapter of the Snowflake. I hope it takes you on a little journey.

Why Snowflake? Also read Chapter 1.

Thank you for all the responses. I’m very interested in ConstantRambler’s comment and I’ll make sure to learn from it. Indeed, the main heroine of the Snowflake is a little girl, and though I hope that the story will be interesting to younger readers, it is primarily aimed at adults. In the novel, I’ll try to describe a little girl who, just like the snowflake, started her life among millions like herself. She’s just as pure and innocent as that tiny drop of frozen water, moving through life without any understanding of what awaits her. Humans experience life through emotions. Sometimes we feel elated, others – down. Sometimes we are content and other times we are bored beyond belief of life itself. But then there are moments for each and every one of us when we’re suddenly faced with a question of the meaning of life, of our purpose in it.

I remember a time when as a child I woke up in the middle of the night with the deepest feeling of fear. It was the first time when I thought about dying or more precisely of not being. I’m sure everyone had one of those moments. My parents heard me crying and, once they found out the reason, they told me a story – a legend – about a tiny snowflake. The thing that stuck in my mind, that calmed me down, was that the snowflake always comes back, but only if she tried to do something good on her previous visit. Using the snowflake as example, I want to show that even the tiniest being on Earth has its own mission, its own purpose.

Computing crime and our vulnerability to digital intrusion is merely a backdrop to that story. Ultimately, it is humans that we are most interested in. And it is one little girl – Amanda Clarke – who will be chosen, challenged and forced to grow up if she’s ever allowed to get her life back. Still, I’ll keep in mind ConstantRambler’s comment and make sure there’s enough action in the book to satisfy even the choosiest of readers.

I’ll admit that the legend about a snowflake that underpins the book has been in my mind for a while, but I’m going to leave its presentation for later. For now, I’d like to present the first chapter of the Snowflake. As always, all comments, positive and negative, are welcome.

I also want to ask everyone a question. Do you believe in destiny or karma?

Snowflake, Introduction

I’m pleasantly surprised to find first visitors on my blog, who cared enough to leave comments. Thank you for answering my questions and I hope to see you again. You caught me unawares as, I must admit, I haven’t given writing enough attention this week. No, it wasn’t just laziness (though there’s always a bit of that). I had a hell of a week at work and didn’t have enough in me to write anything good. To make it up to you, I decided to upload an Introduction to my novel, Snowflake. I hope you enjoy reading it. All your comments, positive and negative, are greatly appreciated.

Arguments in the family

Nothing is ever perfect. A perfect life is what we all strive towards, but once there, we should be left alone to enjoy the bliss. It’s the problems and struggles that make it to books. And it’s a first serious problem for Clarkes.

Every family is ultimately built on trust and when something to shatter that trust slithers into a relationship, it hits hard and leaves splinters behind. Leo and Sally have a serious argument in the third chapter. I’ve tried to re-create realistic conditions to spark and then fuel the fight. After all, arguments typically stem from the same set of roots. Secrets in the family, whether or not they are directed against the other half, misunderstandings, coincidental circumstances. Sometimes a fight can be deliberately provoked by a third party looking for something to gain. What other things can cause a serious argument among close people?

Child Abuse

Have you noticed how sometimes a topic that wasn’t discussed for a while suddenly springs up everywhere, all at once? During the last few weeks several child abuse cases have been publicized on TV and web, talked about at work and that inevitably left a mark on my writing. I must admit, violence is against my nature. Violence towards children sickens me and hurts all the way to the heart. I can’t understand it and I can never forgive it.

In the second chapter, Jason – an excellent lawyer, but a single man – is accused of viewing child pornography. There is solid evidence found on his hard drive, months of historical data. Still, is he a criminal or a victim? He does, after all, claim to be a technophobe. Is this technophobia just a lack of computing knowledge, which meant he couldn’t cover up his tracks well? Or is it a cover up in itself? If Jason is indeed guilty, then we can never forgive him, but if he is merely a victim, then why is he being set up and why in such a horrific way?

Technophobia

Jason Munroe, a lawyer and a friend of the Clarkes, is a self-confessed technophobe. Yes, you’re right. That quality of his is partially modeled on somebody I know. I’m lucky enough to have my parents share and understand my passion for computers. It’s my grandparents who remain to be convinced that using Skype and a webcam is far superior to a good old landline (especially pricewise on international calls). You see, my granny seems particularly intimidated by The Computer thing. And yet, she used to be a well-qualified doctor, a person with a very demanding job, responsibilities, and a fare share of medical equipment. Still, The Computer is a scary beast to her.

Uncle Jason is very similar. He’s a successful lawyer with a long list of powerful clients. During his twenty-year career he dealt with a variety of criminal cases, helping thousands of people get out of a legal deadlock. Yet, he knows very little about computers. Apart from Word and email, of course.

He’s embarrassed of being a technophobe, but I wonder if technophobia exists as such. Isn’t it part of a bigger fear? Fear of change, or maybe fear of failure? And isn’t it, sometimes, a case of mistaken identity with the lack-of-time problem we all face more and more often? I appreciate that if you are reading this, then you are likely not to be afraid of computers. That’s great, but remember that fear is also a great protection mechanism and is therefore useful. We lock our front doors because of fear of an intruder, so we should remember to lock down our operating systems for that same reason. That little bit of caution can go a long way.

It’s alive!

Well, not quite alive yet, but the vital signs are there. Amanda, for one, answered my question of ‘What else does a kid need?’ rather firmly.

‘A puppy. A yellow lab would do just fine, thank you.’

You see in real life puppy is one of those things that is often promised, but never quite given. So, I’ve decided for once to grant the child’s wish immediately.

Amanda gets the pup – Sparky seems to be the name – as a birthday present from Uncle Jason, a lawyer and a close friend of the family. I’m not going to tell you about the screams and cuddles that followed. Those are self-evident. At this moment in time, Jason is much more of an interest to me. He wasn’t planned, but rather cruised into the story on his own accord. What nobody is aware of yet is the major impact his appearance is going to have on Clarkes’s future.

First characters are born

March. The spring is here. And, though British spring deals out good weather grudgingly, I feel its presence and I feel its call. My first characters are beginning to sprout from the small seeds I’ve planted over the last months and I can’t wait to see how they are going to turn out. Let me introduce them to you.

Present day. An American family in time of change. Congressman Leo Clarke has been given a new assignment as the Chairman of the Committee on Natural Resources. The family moves to their nice new house in the suburbs of Washington, DC. Sally Clarke is forced to give up her University job and become a schoolteacher. Ten-year-old Amanda Clarke, Leo’s and Sally’s only child, is least affected by the move. She lives and breathes computers, hangs out on the Net and her virtual world moves seamlessly with her. Besides, she’s still surrounded by love and care of her parents. What else does a kid need?

Snowflake, The story

I’m back and I’m still on my own. I’ve spent the last week twiddling with my thought organizing/book writing software program and it’s now much more suited for novel rather than short story development. Once that done, I settled down to flesh out the original plot line, but before we move onto that, I want to share my ideas behind the whole thing. Bear with me; I’ll try to be brief.

World of computers is my world. And a world you know, you feel secure in. Not because you know it’s safe, but because you know where the dangers are and how to avoid them. Recently more and more people let computers into their worlds, accept them as friends and rely on assurances of salesmen that that brilliant topnotch antivirus software is all they need to be safe. I must agree, it does do a great job protecting against viruses. But what about targeted attacks…

I want to write a book about something that can happen to any one of us. Location, age, social status, connections are not important. A computer linked to the Internet and an asset that somebody else wants, are. A convenient thing in computer crime is anonymity. A virtual criminal doesn’t have to face you, doesn’t have to feel guilty, doesn’t have to care. This breeds a new type of attacker. Completely impersonal and completely in control. Your personal qualities, your achievements, your family and friends are unimportant. You and your life are irrelevant. You are a target, your computer is a weapon and your money is the motive!

Will you be able to even spot the attacker before it’s too late? And if you do, what will you do about it. In our crazy world of schedules, commitments and overflowing TODO lists, how many of us really know about computers? Things that matter. Security. Protecting your family, your wellbeing, your livelihood. Sometimes, your children – defenseless and naïve otherwise – can understand and deal with digital matters much better that you can. But, will anyone listen to them, will anyone care? They are, after all, just children.

Fighting doubts

I’ve got a confession to make. I forced myself not to check the blog for a whole week. You know, giving it time to settle in, take root. I felt a bit nervous typing in the address, like a hostess expecting a plethora of unknown guests in my humble abode. I’ve imagined the numbers quite well. I seem to remember there were a few zeros on the end.

Guess what? It’s officially a no-show. Oh well, I should have known. Throwing out a small blog into the digital ocean that is internet is like printing a million books and putting them into a BookShack Inc, Desert Island.

The programmer in me did suggest putting out a few (a lot) references out there, but that reminded me of an angler who’s in it for the sport, but instead of taking fishing tackle, he takes a few sticks of dynamite.

I’m keeping this blog to track my progress and I’m sure I’ll find friends, like-minded people and casual visitors without having to cast out nets.

So, this is about writing a novel. Like in any tale of heroic quest, there are monsters that rear their ugly heads trying to veer you off your course. Mine are with me as I type. Mostly, it’s lack of confidence, followed closely by doubt, with Surely-I’ll-never-be-able-to-do-it in a close third.

‘You’re not a native English speaker. You’ve been using this language for less than ten years. You have no literary education. How dare you think you can write a novel?!’

‘Uhm…’ gotta fight the monsters, ‘Well, I can give it a go. And, I can do the best I can. Surely that’s good enough. After all, I am doing this for myself and my parents, and it’s fun. You can’t beat fun!’

That’ll keep them quiet for a while.

Still, it’s an interesting question, which, I’m beginning to see, lots of new authors face. Does English have to be your first language? Do you have to have a formal literary education to tell a tale? I hope not. As long as you have something good to say and a good way of saying it, people will want to listen. I know I would. Would you?

Let me introduce myself

I am a professional programmer living and working in London.

Some of my earliest memories are not really mine. They belong to a little girl, whose quests and adventures used to put me to sleep… or at least get me in bed and on my best behavior. The girl – my parents never told me her name, but still I was pretty sure who she was – wasn’t perfect and that calmed me, but she was brave and strong, and she rose up to her challenges, no matter whether they involved slaying a dragon or two, or putting away her toys. I learned a lot from her, which, I guess, was exactly the point.

At an early age I got involved with computers. I studied hard and jumped few grades, finishing school at the age of fifteen. My next step was easy. I went to study in the country I loved the most. Great Britain. I knew exactly how great it would be; after all, I daydreamed it all during my last year at school. My daydreams turned out somewhat inaccurate: my knowledge of English was miles away from conversational, studying was hard and I ached for parents every day. But, as my bedtime heroine, I tried to rise up to the challenge. I’ve finished University at eighteen, became a software developer with a great company and made Britain my home. I still miss my parents though.

I always liked to write. Well, imagine first, then write it down sometimes. Somewhere along the line, while I was in Uni, I started writing all the time for my parents. Our roles reversed. I was embarrassed to admit that my real experience wasn’t a fairy tale I’d expected, so I wrote short stories for them. Those I could make fun and those I could control. Besides, it was a great way to teach them language that I fell in love with. Later, when I got a job, writing time became scarce so I developed a software program where I could enter my ideas, observations, quotes of the day. When enough data is available, the software provides a rough draft of a short story, which I polish and send to my parents. This is how I got an idea to write a full-length novel. I’ve got a title now and a plot that my program helped to formulate. I’ll try to write it and I hope it will be interesting enough to be read. This blog is a diary to track my progress and an incentive to make sure I don’t give up.