Creatures of habit, rise up. Throw off your chains.

Every now and then we shake up our habits – start an exercise regime on 2nd January, for instance – but rapidly slide back into our comfortable old ways. As the joke goes, I missed going to gym today. That makes 270 days in a row . . . in fact we’re so estranged I am beginning to feel I should be calling it James instead.

If you’re my target reader, you’ve started wondering whether there shouldn’t be a little more to your free time than switching on the TV, or spending hours jumping drearily from link to link on your social media. Even reading (and do feel free to read one of my books, I’d enjoy that as much as you would, click any book-cover in the margin of this blog) should be to relax, but where’s the fun in relaxing if that’s all you do?

Getting out and about is an obvious way to add variety and interest, but frustrating if you want to try something new, but aren’t quite motivated enough to go on your own. Tomorrow, maybe. Days slip by, become months and years, and particularly if you are one of my target readers, in the full sunshine of your Indian summer, there aren’t that many years to waste. Get out there!

I only recently learned about meetup.com and it is amazing. Wherever you are in the world, click on this link,  MEETUP.COM, and see if there’s something going on within 25 miles of you right now. It is purely social, people pitching up to share an activity with like-minded types, and not in any way a singles link-up – lots are married or with people who don’t share this particular interest, it is purely friendly.

activities

In my area, and okay, Edinburgh is within 25 miles, there are a stunning 644 activities. There’ll hopefully be something, wherever you are, especially if you can extend your range a bit. All ages, all types, all interests, so not all of it will rock your boat, just the thought of me joining a running group is a joke. Ditto patchworking,  a needle is a lethal weapon in my clumsy fingers. A writing group is a bit too much of a busman’s holiday. However, a dog-walking group, hmm, if my insane bulldog wasn’t so tricky with other dogs…  I did sign up promptly for the pub quizzes group.

MEETUP.COM makes it really easy to create and advertise a potential group, and who knows, there may be a dozen people out there whose eyes would brighten briefly at the thought of your particular interest, 2 or 3 of them might get in touch, and you’re on your way. In the meantime, this is what is happening in the next week on my doorstep: Crazy golf / After-work walk up Arthur’s Seat / two pub-quiz nights / 10-pin bowling / a Callander park walk / Curry at the Spice Pavilion / cross-country run at Beecraigs Nature Reserve / afternoon walk at Loch Leven / Piano players / Edinburgh Jazz Festival Cavalcade / Burntisland Highland Games picnic / Drinks / evening stroll round the Cleish hill forts.  I pulled the range down to just 5 miles. Conversational Spanish dinner. ¿Que?

activities2

I flipped through my international address book seeing what my friends had on around them this week. That’s definitely quieter than in the UK, but there’s still stuff happening near most. Nothing going on near Nelspruit or Port Elizabeth in South Africa, you guys need to start a group. Polocrosse, perhaps? Big in both those communities, I know that. Live comedy group outing, and ballroom dancing, near my old smallholding community in South Africa. Go smallholders! A park run in Amanzimtoti, Natal, and a comedy night in nearby Durban on the weekend. Further afield – an English-speaking coffee group meeting in Tenerife on Friday.  Scuba diving try-out this weekend in Almeria, Spain. Open air theatre and a meditation night was the closest to Isle of Wight, but you’d need to catch the ferry to the mainland. Hmm. Boardgames, or jogging for beginners in Tasmania, Australia. There’s a group After The Hot Flashes in BC, Canada (presumably talking about how life is opening up again) and quite a lot there generally. Breakfast, and a wine appreciation evening, were highlights in Cape Coral, Florida this week.

Have a look. MEETUP.COM. Let me know what surprised you, and what you tried. I hope there’s something good!

Then relax with a book. You know where to find one.

Grumpy Old Men – grumpy? Make that raging …

I wish, I really wish, I could triumphantly produce the sure-fire way of avoiding the worst types of Angry Single. Whether you are twenty-something and know nothing, or fifty-something and think you know it all, you are going to bump into these men and women, and they are hard to spot because we all have a trace of Angry Single in us. Some of us need a hug. Some need a lobotomy!

I ended the last blog saying anyone meeting a single through a website should keep an emotional distance until they’ve met his or her friends, family and, ideally, ex. This is absolutely the only way you can hope to escape being blown up by the full-blown, psychologically damaged, destructive types. Hang on to that emotional detachment.

Most of the regulars on my favourite singles website know that I am fascinated by their stories, and everyone loves a listener. I’ve learned, and am still learning, things that would make your hair stand on end, yet none of us can yet define the full-blown nut-job from a straightforward common-or-garden selfish single. The latter are bad enough, granted, but they aren’t deliberately cruel and you can look back at the relationship, spot what went wrong, learn from it. The nut-jobs will send you crazy wondering what you did wrong. The answer? Nothing.

Angry Singles range from the resentful to the psychotic, and you could reject someone having a few adjustment issues as easily as you can overlook the warning signs of true disaster. Unfortunately the only true way is in retrospect. If he or she behaves well during, and after, the break-up, they were okay. If he or she is utterly indifferent and even vicious if cornered, ouch.

Okay, that’s not much help! But it is why meeting an ex is so important. There are three sides to every breakup (his, hers and the truth) and some breakups are seriously toxic. The guy you are keen on could have met an Angry Single last time out, and most definitely will not get a good report there! But if he or she can’t produce one person from their past who will speak well of them, be afraid. Be very afraid. (By the way, can you produce someone like that yourself?)

This blog isn’t, for once, personal experience, despite my adventure, but I will say his ex wrote to me at toxic length when she saw a pic of him on my Facebook page. I already knew his track history was dire and he was as much frog as prince, there was nothing she said that he hadn’t already told me, and no horrible surprises. It was oddly reassuring, and it also kept me properly centred. Speak to the ex!

The only warning signs seem to be too much, too soon:  yet we all hope for that magical flare-up, the driving excitement. Being older simply adds to that pressure, we all have one eye on the clock. It isn’t easy to keep your head when being swept off your feet, but it is the only way you will survive and the true Angry Single doesn’t hang around long – a few months. So many singles, after all, is their philosophy, so little time.

Pure Angry Singles are obvious:  controlling, domineering, jealous almost from the first exchange of messages, fiercely sorry for themselves, and nothing is ever their fault. Don’t kid yourself: a hug isn’t going to sort this one, the future will not be rosy. Abusive relationships are abusive relationships, however you met. Back away at the first warning sign, and the earlier the sign, the faster you should run.

The Rebound Single has been suddenly dumped back on the market after an unexpected breakup, furious that life has short-changed them, determined to catch up the lost years and cram in every experience, every ounce of attention that they know they are owed. Was it Mae West who said the only way to get over someone is under someone else? Not so funny when it’s personal, and not at all funny when you find yourself with a full-blown Angry Rebound Single. The first quarrels, even the first hint of criticism, and boom, they are rushing on to the next adventure, one resentful eye on that clock. They are the worst of the Selfish Singles, and the more recent their last relationship was, the more careful you should be about getting involved emotionally. That baggage is heavy, and sometimes it is loaded with dynamite.

It’s sometimes hard to define whether all long-term singles are damaged, or instead that all damaged people are destined to be long-term singles, but sociopaths and malignant narcissists do love the singles websites. Hang on to your detachment until you have met the background people normal folks have in their lives. Chances are you will be dumped just for insisting. Ouch, yes, but better to be bruised than eviscerated. That’s about the only test I’ve been able to come up with, despite asking a lot of questions.

The ONLY warning therefore is, again, too much, too soon. Angry Singles will rush you, ‘love-bomb’ you, pour attention and passion over you. If you kept that emotional detachment, rode the wave instead of going under without a struggle, then you can pick yourself up when it dumps you on the beach, put a touch of arnica on the bruise, and try not to become an Angry Single in turn! It wasn’t your fault, there was nothing you could have done to change things, and you’ll know better next time.

I don’t make a penny from this blog, so hopefully will be forgiven for linking that anthem of the bewildered victim: Ti Amo

I write for older singles, those at the far end of middle age, no longer young, not yet old. We have no definition for our age, yet as baby boomers, born between 1946 and 1964, we are a huge group, and entering what is for most of us the best time of our lives. Divorce rates have never been higher: many of us are single, but we can’t and won’t let that imprison us in our homes, right?

My blogs on the subject have been warnings, for the most part, because there is an euphoria about this Indian summer which can take us in all innocence down the wrong paths. My books, on the other hand, are a celebration of this lovely age, and my blogs will be focused more on the positives from now on. The best really is yet to come!

Grumpy Old Men: telling porkies

I took some flak from a Grumpy Old Man about my dating website blogs. He says I don’t underline the dangers and the risks enough, I make it sound fun. Most singles, he says darkly, are single for good reason, scammers are a real danger, and psychopaths, sociopaths, malignant narcissists, and a whole range of people with psychological disorders stalk the websites looking for victims.  Older singles (or if you prefer, those of us who have been young for a long time) returning to the singles world in a flurry of hope and nervous excitement are prime targets.

I did think I had made those points, but fair comment. He’s a Cynical Single and he has been on my favourite singles website a while longer than I have, using the same name throughout, which is in itself both a point in his favour and a reason to give up on him immediately. Only one of the characters in my books, ironically enough considering they are all single and in my favourite age group, would fall into a website type: Donald would be a Cynical Single, and it’s a type I find disastrously attractive. Edge did enter the world of Mature Singles in Five Six Pick Up Sticks as bait in a murder investigation: if any of them were to go onto the websites again, it would be Donald who kept them out of trouble and chased off the liars and chancers.

Dishonest Singles are everywhere.  Nobody, nobody, is totally honest on their profile or in the first exchanges. Even if they have no agenda for deliberate misrepresentation, they want to present themselves at their best.  They’ll say they’re separated, for example: they won’t say it’s their fifth divorce.

As a rule of thumb, you can be pretty sure anyone who has been on a singles website for more than a year is no longer a straightforward single person looking to meet another straightforward single person, no matter how beguiling the profile. At the very least they have unrealistic expectations: it’s got to be perfect, the potential partner has to be without peer and without flaw, rich, successful, good-looking and adoring, or will be dropped like a hot potato. And those are the honest ones!

Dishonest Singles with an agenda know that to remain too long on the website shelf is a warning sign, so they create new profiles, with new photos, every 8 to 10 months – or when they are in a relationship, so that the unsuspecting other half doesn’t realize they still have their fishing lines in the water.

Some Dishonest Singles are, of course, pure professionals.  I still find it hard to take the scammer threat seriously, because their approaches are so obvious, and their follow-up so weak, but let the point be made again. Don’t get smug, or feel you can spot a liar a mile away. Some are good. My Cynical Single says he learned of a man who took a year preparing the ground, then lifted fifty thousand pounds off his victim.

I say my Cynical Single but that’s wishful thinking. He’s remarkably good-looking and has a wonderful dry sense of humour, but that three years on the website has made him Teflon. Men are scammed more often than women, and he’s had some incredibly convincing approaches over the three years, successfully parrying them all. He eyes all and any approaches with such deep scepticism that although we are friendly, I suspect he thinks I’m playing a long game.  As if. He’s honest enough (unless, of course, he is softening me up to take money off me and frankly good luck to him, because I’m a writer, I don’t have any) but Cynical Singles are a dead end on the websites as far as romance goes.

The disappointments, the less skilful scams, the cynicals, are part of the learning curve. The most destructive are the Angry Singles, and they can be the hardest to spot, the most charming, the most insistent. I’ve bumped into a few along the way, and one featured briefly in Five Six Pick Up Sticks but I have learned so much more since then that they will get their own blog.

The safest route, with any single met through a website, is to keep an emotional distance until you’ve met their friends, their family, and, perfect world, their ex.  If they don’t have any friends, and family, and are tight-lipped or irrational on the subject of the ex, move on. That can be easier said than done, but you will, in the long run, save yourself a bad experience. Trust me on this. I have talked to a lot of single people of both sexes. You don’t have to make your own mistakes, there is no law against learning by the mistakes of others!

The last of the warning blogs follows shortly. Then it becomes time, and more than time, to start exploring the wonders of this lovely age we’ve reached, and the opportunities that it opens up.

Love in the Global Village – journeys end in lovers meeting

One thing about being older is realizing life isn’t going to deliver everything you once hoped, and when you look back at your decisions you regret more the things you didn’t do than the things you did. You do get braver.

I’ve done lots of research on second-time-around single life, and there are pitfalls aplenty (follow back the tags on website dating), but whether you want to meet a man for company, or just wish you knew more people, the dating websites are a useful resource. Life isn’t going to drop Mr Right straight into your outstretched hand – Mr Will Do Nicely is the most you can really hope for – but don’t waste your wonderful Indian summer in vague restlessness, sitting lonely at home.

The idea of a singles website, especially for mature singles, is that you look for people near you, read profiles, and if you like the look of someone, shyly indicate interest by whatever means the website provides, or send a cautious message. When you’ve exchanged enough messages to feel fairly confident this is a real person, not a scammer, you might exchange purpose-specific email addresses, phone numbers . . . the usual process towards meeting.

I do know a lovely woman who spotted a man in her own village and cut through all the conventions. She sent a message saying ‘tea at 3.30 tomorrow in the Ivy café?’ She is sixty one, he is sixty four, and they got married seven months later, shining with happiness. Those are the stories that fuel the huge singles market, and although they are the exceptions rather than the rule, they do happen. As often as lottery wins: but like the lottery, got to be in it to win it.

Every older man on a singles website can tell you he gets messages, practically daily, from gorgeous young women far far away, speaking slightly fractured English but so charming that he can’t resist replying. Pretty early on she’ll suggests something like, ‘I come to you. These are my bank details. Send money for flight, I love you long time.’  There are genuine success stories, men a little long in the tooth proudly posing for photographs with their lovely young golden-coloured wives, but most of the time money flies, the girl doesn’t.

However, this blog is for us autumn roses, and that exciting moment when a rather nice bloke is showing a really flattering amount of interest. Trouble is, he’s hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles away. Blast. You really enjoy his messages, he’s funny and interesting, and he looks out eagerly for yours and responds promptly. The attraction is instant, and mutual. Phew. Suddenly the local guys look rather boring. And you do need a holiday . . .

Whoa, Silver, don’t get carried away. There are a lot of conmen out there, and some are very good at their job, and make a nice living from women who are flattered and susceptible. There are also a lot of damaged men a sensible woman wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. An eligible man coming on the market gets fixed up so quickly by his friends’ wives he barely touches ground between the last relationship and the next, never mind having time to sign onto a singles website. The only way this lovely man you’re flirting with hasn’t been snapped up locally will be because either he isn’t actually lovely, or he’s blotted his local copybook.

But the man you found is different – yes, I know he is. Just don’t, to continue the horse metaphor, rush those fences. You like each other’s messages, emails and texts. You’ve exchanged flattering photographs, and you like those too. Stage one is going well. However, some LDR  relationships never move off the launching pad, and I wrote a blog about those. Do you have matching expectations? Not all men want to meet up. Lots of women don’t. Don’t assume, never assume . . .

Stage two: you do need to talk on Skype. Go buy a webcam, if you don’t have one. You’ll look hideous on camera but everyone does.  When you’re over 50, webcams can be downright spiteful. They seek out folds, creases and sags that you never even noticed you had! Experiment with lighting before you go live – sometimes the best is the brightest. Not exactly mood lighting, but at least you won’t look like Deputy Dawg. I’ve said this before, by the way, but never, ever, do anything on Skype you don’t want photographed – the facility is built in, you won’t even know the photo has been taken.

Create a separate Skype account for experimental chats. Use the name (and password) you use on the singles website for maximum convenience.

The webcam really is worth it, even if you go off each other instantly. (Well, especially if you go off each other instantly!) It is impossible to hide during a live conversation. Maybe he can’t meet your eyes, or his mouth hangs restfully open between sentences. Those wonderful flowing speeches in his letters are now halting conversation, with lots of ums and ahs. You sign off after a polite half hour with a sigh of both relief and regret.

What if you don’t go off him, but the mutual attraction increases? If this continues to grow legs and keep moving, you are going to have to consider stage three, and we aren’t talking tea at the Ivy. Because of the distance, this is a weekend. Or a week. Phew!

Others may disagree, but I wouldn’t invite him to your patch. An attractive, available, ideal, man is rarer than hen’s teeth and you are about to learn why this seeming catch is on the market. Don’t assume, never assume . . .He’s definitely flawed. He’s probably dodgy. He could be a full-blown nutter: do you really want him knowing where you live?

You can meet halfway, on neutral territory. The convention for that is that each pay their own flights, and the man pays for the accommodation. You’re both mature adults, and the accommodation is likely to be a double. In your position, I would discreetly contact the hotel and check other rooms are likely to be available at short notice. Just in case. Even if he is otherwise wonderful, he may turn out to snore like a foghorn.

If he lives in a part of the world you particularly want to visit, or you want to be sure he’s not married, going to his is the third option. It is the most alarming: you will be in a country where you know no-one, may not speak the language, and are risking spending time 24/7 with someone who could be truly scary. At least we autumn roses are unlikely to be sold into sordid slavery, but he could drink, do drugs, have dangerous mood swings, be subject to violent rages if thwarted.  Of course that’s true of any older single man you meet, even the guy in the next village, and you’ve talked so much, written so much to each other, that you know him far better, in some ways, than you will ever know the man in the next village. There is something about him, and you could wonder, for the rest of your life, if you should have taken the chance.

Take it.

Tell someone where you are going, who you are meeting, all the safety stuff. Arrange to be in touch with your safety back-up every day. Don’t assume, never assume . . .

By now you’ve been pretty honest with each other. Whatever you’re thinking, he’s definitely hoping there’ll be a little nookie. You’ve discussed your expectations, right? Your preferences, your absolute no-no’s, your maybes? This is important. Even learning that he rises with the lark and likes an early-morning five mile tramp before breakfast, while your holiday preference is to get up around ten, doesn’t need to be a deal-breaker. For a week, you can both compromise, but it is so much better to know in advance. You aren’t giggling, blushing, hopeful teenagers. Talk things through like the mature adults that you are. Don’t assume, never assume . . .

Whatever you say to each other, whatever bright hopes you have, accept that statistically this is not going to last. Don’t pin your hopes on true love, and golden years to follow, or that first holiday will be a terrible disappointment. The chances for a permanent happy ending are miniscule: frankly, about the same odds that you will be brutally murdered. Most LDRs end with the first holiday, although some may limp to a second. Bear that in mind, and set your sights on enjoying your holiday, being good company, and enjoying his.

As always in these blogs, I have done my research, although it was far more thorough than I ever intended: I was as surprised as anyone to find myself actually heading off into the blue, and vividly remember the shock of seeing the man I was about to spend a week with. I had assumed that talking and laughing every night on Skype for three months had been enough preparation. For a moment I nearly bolted back into the airport, as reality kicked in (what was I thinking?). Be prepared for that panic reaction, too!

A few LDRs do thrive on long separations and occasional meetings. We had several increasingly successful holidays, but a mutually genuine attempt to spend longer together here on home turf proved too much for something as pretty, glittering, and durable, as a soap bubble. We were temperamentally suited to short bursts of togetherness, and anything longer was definitely too real. Whether the underlying friendship will survive the ruffled feelings is anyone’s guess, but I wasn’t his first LDR, and won’t be the last. I have no regrets, put it that way: and some interesting memories!

In Thirteen Fourteen, Olga introduces her long-standing LDR friend, and regular readers learn Donald had an LDR too, which ended abruptly when he found someone closer to home. I don’t research this stuff for fun, you know. It’s all about the books. Nearly all about the books.

Ever researching on your behalf,

Elegsabiff

Why do we turn our wonderful Indian summer into the age of fears?

I write light-hearted whodunits featuring four characters in late middle age, their autumn years, semi-retired, no longer young but not yet old: I haven’t yet found a description that instantly sums up their age, and if you know one, I wish you would tell me!

Edge, Vivian, William and Donald are in their late fifties, early sixties.  For women, it is definitely the age when the menopause has finally stopped shaking us like a rat between its teeth, and we get a surge of vitality and a sudden renewed interest in life. For both men and women there may have been health glitches, and we are consciously improving our general condition with a little judicious exercise, slightly more cautious diet.

So here we are, feeling better than in years, the offspring are for the most part now independent, the fierce competition of the workplace is less urgent: we’ve risen as far up the corporate ladder as we are likely to go.  Time to ease back a little, and enjoy this unexpected gift, right?

For some reason, no. Things are too good, we can’t get used to that, so we turn this wonderful golden time, this Indian summer, into fears. We could get sick, so every symptom plunges us into gloom. We could lose our jobs, so we stress ourselves into getting sick (whoops. Double whammy). We could lose friends, even people we love, and we start distancing ourselves in preparation. We’ve seen our parents get very elderly, or we have lost them already, and old age is suddenly terrifying.stress

It’s worst when we are alone, but hey, lots of people are alone. The Grasshopper Lawns books are set in a residential village where it’s a condition of acceptance that residents are over fifty-five, and have no family. There are hundreds, thousands, of people who would jump at the chance of meeting others in the same boat. It’s a given that life leaves lumps, bumps, scars, and baggage and no-one you are going to meet will be free of those, any more than you are. It also brings resilience, humour, and experience and people you meet will have those too. A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet? Well, maybe not quite that glib. But by reaching out, you will make friends: do it. Have realistic expectations, and have fun. Don’t sit at home and get old before your time. At the very least, look up meetup.com for your area, you’ll be astonished at how much is going on around you.

Quite a few of my blogs are about single life, second time round, and the idea of meeting someone romantically can be alarming.  I won’t kid you. It is. If you go that route, you will meet some very odd people, have some alarming encounters, you will feel your blood fizz and your heart creak, but you will definitely feel alive and stimulated. For some bizarre reason, Society looks askance at older people dating, flirting, having affairs. Goodness me, why? Don’t we all want affection, shared laughter, even passion, for the rest of our lives?

I didn’t set out to write a series of books that celebrate this stage of our lives, but it did turn out that way. In the first book, Edge could be any age between fifty-five and seventy-five, her life is so sedate. By the seventh book, the four friends are fully enjoying their Indian summer, and there is nothing I have written that contemporaries, friends, or I, have not done. Okay, apart from solve actual murders!  I get slightly peeved when I’m told that when I get to that age, I will see things differently. I am that age. I have younger friends who are already starting to fret and worry, and think themselves old. My older friends, on the other hand, are confidently leading the way into what is, despite our gloomy expectations, a totally unexpected gift from life.

Take hold today.  Carpe diem, and step into the sunshine. Enjoy it! And enjoy every day from now on, to the end of your life. Make it a life to remember with pride. Maybe with a breathless laugh or two … wrinklie love

Love in the Global Village – lovers who never meet

The world has become a global village, with Facebook, Twitter, Skype, LinkedIn and on-line chat rooms connecting friends and strangers everywhere.  Singles of all ages get to chat in all parts of the world. Sometimes you meet someone who resonates, there’s the tiny click of recognition, and – uh-oh. This global village is still an extremely large planet, he’s on the far side, and the teleporter hasn’t been invented yet.

I’ve done a few blogs already on being single, second time round, and how to recognize the types you meet in the over-fifties singles world, but this blog is about those relationships where you never meet – the twilight world of the never-never long distance relationship, the LDR. Some are fun, a what-if that brightens your day. Some, especially for older singles who have been out of the dating game for a while, are a handy way back into learning all over again how to interact with someone who is interested in you as a person, and as a possible lover. Most will flare and die in a few weeks, months at most, and the residual glow should outlast the pang of the ending. I was in one (I take my research responsibilities very seriously) and have felt the tug, and I do know where you are coming from. Mine was pretty conventional in length, very intense and exciting, but there’s a danger they can become part of your life.

It really is a danger. EVERY singles website has hundreds of members of all ages drifting month after month, even year after year, in go-nowhere relationships, feeling comforted because they are loved. Some are first-timers, feeling they are unique in their odd, yet workable, relationship. Others are on their second, third, safe emotional haven. Some run several at once, which is frankly just greedy. They are slightly addictive for people with emotional or physical insecurities, and some singles look only for the never-meet LDR, although they will never admit it, meeting is always the eventual goal. Somehow. Someday. Far in the future . . .

You may be in love with one, who will change, chameleon-like, to be your perfect partner, just to get back into that lovely glow. Most people are going to be puzzled that someone hundreds, or thousands, of miles away could be absorbing your thoughts. Some will tell you sternly that it won’t work, LDRs always fail. Some will tell you that you are being scammed, cheated, played for a sucker. Some will ask when you are going to meet, and look pitying when you say nothing is planned yet.

There must be some successes, I suppose, and anyway yours is different. Not to sound too cynical, but yours is always different.

Fact remains, it is enthralling. You have met someone who is uniquely in tune with you, and because you spend more and more time talking, with no outside interaction, no context, you develop a faster, deeper, more meaningful relationship than you have ever experienced before. Soulmates. Wow.

No, you aren’t soulmates! The grass does look greener over that far fence, but from this distance you can’t smell the fertilizer. It’s there. Believe me. It may be a whiff, it may be a stench, but that grass is not naturally that green!

Reality check: are you yourself really telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Does he know your real age, those extra pounds or bulges you just can’t shake, the little bad habits you conceal from the world? Chances are you are portraying yourself as the person you are in your head, the person you’d like to be. Chances are, so is he. He may be absolutely genuine, not intending to mislead you in any way, but you are looking at him through his eyes. He is seeing you through yours. No wonder it gets intoxicating, eh?  Here, at last, is someone who sees you as you really are!

Of course that sets this forever as a no-meet LDR, because meeting would destroy everything. When you live an hour apart, the LDR dies when one or the other runs out of excuses and abruptly vanishes instead. When you live thousands of miles apart, the illusion isn’t as easily shattered. It can evolve into a corner of your life, radiating gentle warmth, adding to your confidence, but it can also mutate alarmingly and become far too significant.

Normal people can’t live out normal lives when they are obsessed by someone they have never met and will never meet, and the ending can be frighteningly destructive. LDRs DO end. Often there is just sudden silence and you have no idea whether you have been dumped for someone else, or he dropped dead, or any of the many scenarios your panicking mind can summon up. It is almost impossible for the outsider to understand that an intense LDR is, in an odd way, more real than reality.

Here are a few more reality checks.

  • Are you talking on Skype, or is the entire relationship on texts and emails? If you don’t know what he looks or sounds like, especially if he resists the Skype option, there’s something he isn’t telling you. He’s married, he’s in prison, he’s physically unlike the photos he sends, whatever the reason, there is something wrong.
  • If you are the one resisting Skype, why? If he thinks you are younger, better-looking, or more successful than you really are, and you have deliberately fostered that belief, either confess or back off. You are going to become increasingly dissatisfied with your real self.
  • How much time are you giving him – occasional texts and emails, chatting on Skype a couple of times a week, or are you spending hours every day talking to, or thinking of, each other? Throttle back. Half an hour a day, tops. Or a couple of days a week. The more he pushes for more of your time, the more concerned you should be. Love-bombing is not a sign of a normal healthy man with a normal healthy lifestyle.
  • If he usually leads the conversation, introduce a change of subject to something that interests you. If he pulls back to his subject, you are there just as an audience. You’ll be replaced when you’ve heard all the stories.
  • If you think something is off-key, don’t dismiss the thought. It is.
  • If the idea that he could suddenly arrive on your doorstep is terrifying, listen to that thought!
  • If the wish that he would suddenly arrive on your doorstep is all-consuming, yet there is no possibility of ever meeting, throttle back. Way back.
  • If he isn’t always able to respond immediately, if he has unavoidable social commitments, do you know what they are? Do they bother you? If yes, throttle back. Way back.
  • Is he jealous about your time, especially when you can’t respond at the usual times? Have you stopped making outside commitments as a result? Don’t!
  • If either or both of you have been in LDRs before, accept that this is a pattern and either or both of you are copping out of real life. Cop back in! The twilight world of the LDR is like a diet high in sugar, delicious but extremely unhealthy.

If talking about meetings always seems to end nowhere, there’s a test you can do. Be aware it could end the LDR on the spot, and your soulmate might vanish abruptly. That stings, but ends an unreal situation before you get too sucked in. Announce you’ve just learned your cousin will be in his part of the world in 2 days, and suggest a meetup for coffee. If he is unavoidably busy at that time, that’s fine, your cousin will be there for a fortnight.

Of course some serial LDR specialists know this ploy, and will play along. I’m not talking scammers here: anyone who could be caught by a scripted approach, and not notice any woodenness in the next exchanges, wouldn’t be reading this blog anyway. There are some emotionally dysfunctional people who have been shaken off again and again, and have learned the traps and tests. They’ll jump through almost any hoops to keep your attention and love, and will certainly agree to this proxy meeting. Don’t gasp with relief and instantly confess. Arrange a time, arrange a place, and wait. Yes, you are lying, and to your soulmate, but in real life you would have been able to test him in hundreds of ways by now, without even realizing you were testing him. If he is genuine, now you will know. Most ‘soulmates’ will fail it, and that’s better to know, too.

If he comes back to you after the appointment, sounding puzzled and concerned because your cousin failed to turn up, well, now it is time to confess. If the relationship survives your explanation (he should understand, after all, that you have normal fears and concerns), then you are moving beyond this blog, because I never heard of the first, let alone the second. I do know, though, that long term relationships like this are counter-productive. My best advice to you, especially if there were other things on the list that struck warning chords, is to retreat. Normal people don’t live like this, and you want a normal life. Retreat until it really is a gentle warm corner in the room of your life, taking less than ten percent of your waking hours. If he resists, or vanishes, accept that you shouldn’t be living in an emotional twilight, and that it is time to move on.

If you do finally manage a meeting, be aware that few LDRs survive the first encounter: curiosity is satisfied, and there isn’t enough interest left to go back to the cosy comfort.  Ouch. But then do you want to be putting all this time and emotion into a man you wouldn’t much like in person?

Some LDRs, the traditional ones, can thrive on occasional meetings connected by long loops of waiting time, but that is another blog!

Ever researching on your behalf

Elegsabiff

Introducing Joanna Lamprey

I adore SF, but in a narrow vein. It has to be cheerful, and positive, and a bit exciting. Star Trek, Dr Who, the Stargate offshoots (but not the final gloomy one) had me riveted to my TV. A Town Called Eureka was my favourite series. I cut my teeth on Asimov, romped through Douglas Adams, but on a reading front nowadays lean more towards the Terry Pratchett type than heavy-duty SF.

It has taken a few years to build up recognition for EJ Lamprey and it wasn’t the lightest decision to start with a new name.  Sensible writers put out as many books as possible under one name, no matter what the genre, and let the readers sort it out for themselves, but any follower of this blog knows that I am unable to grasp the principles of sensible. I did try to write the new book as EJ and found myself establishing lively retirement villages on distant planets, with purple squishy Major Horace types now having additional hands to the alarm of the female residents. Tchah. It seems that for me, a separate genre needs a separate name.

Having a different name also affected my writing style. A year or so back I joined a monthly competition writing SF microstories, and Joanna Lamprey learned to compress ideas and concepts into a tightly-written 600 or 700 words. As all EJ Lamprey’s patient readers know, she has barely reached her first cup of tea in 700 words. I don’t mind them being known to be linked, but this way you know what you’re getting with each.

Enough idle chatter. Please welcome Joanna Lamprey to your Kindle. There is a book of stories (ranging from microstories to a darker and fast-paced novella) on free promotion for 5 days – click on the cover below to be transported to your local Amazon. Time has been out a while, but I have never promoted it: the title story was so very alien to EJ’s style, because the heroine is not very likeable. It was recently completely revamped, with the shorts added, and while Lucy is still a foul-mouthed self-centered piece of work, I’m happy with the collection. You know by now how I feel about free, but this is a good cause, because there is also a new launch of a new mini-series, and I’m really excited about that.

Time after time (2)

The new series is based on a newly-settled planet nicknamed Place, and the first book, The Talian Project, is lovely. Everything that I like about SF – engaging aliens, bizarre indigenous animals, exotic eco-systems – came into play, along with a community of settler types, some human greed and political machinations, and a cheerful love-affair.  I was originally enraptured by the idea of steampunk, so Place is decidedly retro, but there is not enough clockwork to satisfy the purists (well, none) and it is more of a space Western. Apparently. A sensible writer would pick a proper genre and work it, but we’ve already covered sensible.

The planned three books are novellas which will eventually be published in paperback as one novel, so Book One is short, breezy, and if you don’t love it I will eat my camel saddle. It is, to use a really EJ word, charming, and also nicely suitable for the Young Adult market (yes please) in a way the whodunits have never been. That’s available right now on a special pre-order price if you click on the cover below. Be quick – it goes up to full price* tomorrow night.

No Place like Place_revised (2)

*It’s a novella. Full price is only $2.99, but a bargain is a bargain.

Back to cosy and off to the Canaries

thirteen fourteen kindleTomorrow Thirteen Fourteen Maids a-Courting sidles into the family—sidles, because it only officially joins the gang on May 1st. There was a time when I was truly organized, and had interview launches in blogs much more widely read than this one, and begged my beta readers to give me reviews (good or, gulp, bad). When I asked people buying at the introductory price to please spread the word. When I even sacrificed one of the earlier books as a freebie to whip up excitement in the series as a whole.

You can of course only do that so many times before you exhaust all your options and become too shy to ask again. I’m no longer remotely organized, and when Eleven Twelve scrambled aboard in breathless haste, making its vital Halloween date by the skin of its fangs, it did so with hardly any launch help at all. It had to make its own friends (and enemies, sadly, but it was controversial, and although I titled it appropriately, and put a warning in the Amazon blurb, and even in the book itself, I managed to shock and upset a couple of readers) with very little support from me. I am rubbish at marketing. My skills boil down to a blog or two, offering a lower price for a few days, and intermittent tweets.  Oh, and crossing my fingers.

That may be about to change at some time, as I’ve heard about a cooperative indies group which combines publishing forces. Some indies could sell bibles to atheists. Some can edit, some can illustrate, and some are a fund of good advice and experience. Gathering a good group, where the members take on each other’s books and burnish them to a brilliant shine, then work together to market them, is probably the only way to survive and grow in a flood of millions (literally millions) of books where the best are often unrecognized, the worst give us all a bad name, and some diamonds in the rough never get to shine as they could.

I’m not being coy about the name of the group, just cautious: I want to find out more before I start wholesale recommendations. I’ve heard they are extremely picky about the books they take on which sounds both promising and, of course, alarming. Perfect world, I’d want them to consider one of my books (which are brilliant) as a borderline decision, because their portfolio is that good.

Until then, I’m still paddling the indie canoe, telling you that you really, really want to buy Thirteen Fourteen and you can pre-order tonight at promotion price, buy it from tomorrow on promotion price, or wait until it goes to the usually tooth-thirteen fourteen kindlerattling full price on May 1st. It is sunny, and cheerful, and mostly far from Scotland, set as it is in Tenerife: back to cosy, while still being true to our rather alarming world: and fun. Trust me. Gamble your 99c. Pack your sun-cream. Go on holiday.

Just click on the cover.

Going bananas

The die is cast, and Thirteen Fourteen Maids A-Courting has been loaded on Amazon, officially publishing on May 1st, unofficially available a few days before that, at the pre-release price which is a touch under what you would donate at the office for the birthday of someone you barely know.  Here’s a thought. Buy them my book instead?

You can pre-order by clicking on this cover pic on most Amazon sites, then you won’t miss the intro price. The cover was created by Lacey O’Connor from a photo I took of Los Gigantes, a fairly typical Tenerife picture.

thirteen fourteen kindle

However, this isn’t the blog where I nestle on your lap and try to slip my hand in your pocket. That follows in a couple of days and shouldn’t be missed. This is a blog for those who haven’t been to Tenerife and might be intrigued enough by my descriptions of the banana plantations to want to look up a few photos.

Tenerife Easter 2015 119

You won’t find many. For some inexplicable reason the plantations, which are everywhere and spectacular, are not on websites. Since they fascinated me, and play a distinct role in the book, there was nothing for it but to produce a banana plantation blog, even though I am a poor photographer with a cheap camera and an unrivalled genius for capturing unwanted poles, overhead wires and bits of cars.

Tenerife is a volcanic island, and there are very few places where you aren’t on a slope. As bananas are conservative, and like life on the level, the plantations have to be built up to keep them as flat as a billiard table. The retaining walls are often built of volcanic rock, and the effect is extraordinary. Once you are out of the tourist centres, they are everywhere, even cheek by jowl with built-up (non-tourist) areas.

Some plantations are neatly terraced. Some are neglected. Some balance on the edge of ravines (it is a challenging landscape, once away from the beaches) and others line the highway. They’re quite something.

Introducing the banana plantations of Tenerife.

Tenerife Easter 2015 140Tenerife Easter 2015 076Tenerife Easter 2015 070Tenerife Easter 2015 037Tenerife Easter 2015 053
Oh, why not. A mountain and ravine as well. In for a penny, in for a pound. It isn’t a pretty place. More – gobsmacking.

Tenerife Easter 2015 065Tenerife Easter 2015 038