The Rushford Times - A weekly newsletter from Jodi Taylor
Sent on Wednesdays to paid subscribers and Fridays to free subscribers
This week we have:
Jodi writing about Giant anacondas, cosseted laptops, mice, mossies and the Hot Tub from Hell.
Join Jodi Taylor at Waterstones, Gloucester on 1st August
This event was sold out but 20 extra tickets have been made available.Win a SIGNED hardback and one-of-a-kind signed print when you pre-order A Family Affair by Jodi Taylor
The Great Recovery Job - grab a ticket now
NEW! Writing Competition - write a short play to be performed at Jodiworld
Short Story of the Month: Christmas Past
There’s plenty to read this week and you can see everything on the blog too. CLICK HERE for the blog.
Giant anacondas, cosseted laptops, mice, mossies and the Hot Tub from Hell.
In a vague attempt to be topical, I’m calling this snippet Writing in Hot Weather.
Actually, I’m mostly OK. Believe it or not, my laptop suffers more than I do. I’ve had to buy a cooling pad for it, and it has its own dedicated fan – unlike me. I do know from experience in Turkey that laptops can become quite unreliable when temperatures exceed 32 degrees, but on the other hand, it was a fast-failing laptop that forced me to make Just One Damned Thing After Another free of charge for Smashwords readers – and look how that turned out.
I have a different laptop these days – they don’t last very long with me – the delete key fell off the last one, and the one before that developed terminal screen lag, and the one before that went insane. I’m treating this one a little more gently and so far, it’s being reasonably cooperative.
Fortunately, my flat faces north – something I curse in winter as I don yet another layer of thermals – and I’m growing bug-eyed because there’s no natural light – but it’s a blessing in this weather. And I’ve revived my old Turkey tricks – socks in the freezer – homemade air-con unit – and sleeping under a frozen towel. I’d like to report all are working well, but they’re not, so I can’t.
And I know it’s a good idea to stay hydrated and not wait until actually going blind before stepping away from the screen, but that doesn’t always happen. Very rarely happens. Doesn’t happen at all. Make a note – must do better.
Other than that, writing in hot weather isn’t much different from writing in cold weather. Just a bit stickier. And with less shivering. Let’s face it – in this country, there’s only about three days in any one year when the weather is perfect anyway. The rest is too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too windy, too sunny, too dull … we never run out of complaints about the weather.
Moving on – the holiday. Which can basically be summed up by the phrase – hot tub with alcohol. I had a lovely message from my editor wishing me a happy holiday and telling me she once nearly drowned in a hot tub. Yes, alcohol was involved. Fortunately, she was kept more or less upright by her fellow hot-tubees.
I should have been so lucky!
Hot tub virgin here. I had no idea what to expect. I climbed in – they’re very tall, aren’t they? We had steps into ours – and made myself comfortable. The brother was in charge of the controls – that’s the other brother, not the eminent author brother – and he said, ‘Shall we have the jets on?’
Not having the faintest idea what he was talking about, I indicated, ‘Yes – jet away, bro,’ and the next minute I was over the other side of the tub, bouncing off the side, legs in the air, to be caught in another set of jets, whirled around the other way, arms flailing, slowly and not very quietly drowning.
And unlike my dear editor, there were no helpful friends to keep me afloat. No one made the slightest attempt to keep me upright. Although, to be fair, I was now orbiting the tub at near escape velocity, and they probably couldn’t get a grip. An occasional leg would break the surface and then I’d disappear into the depths again. Hot tubs are unnecessarily deep.
And they’re no friend to short people, either. Even when the water was more or less at rest it was lapping the bottom of my nose but when the other brother thought it would be fun to run through the various functions – bubbles, jets, currents, whirlpool, tidal wave, Scylla and Charybdis – I was simply washed straight off my seat and fighting for my life on the storm-tossed Sea of Hot-Tub.
I did not, however, suffer alone. Surfacing briefly for air, I discovered my sister-in-law enveloped by flying ants. And I do mean enveloped. Every flying ant in Devon was using her as a landing pad. They’d been woken by my wails of terror, I suspect. Obviously, they ignored the other brother, and I was underwater most of the time, so Sharon was their victim of choice. Steve had just one ant balanced on top of his head. It stayed there all night, obviously perfectly happy with its pink, shiny surroundings. I suppose we could have mentioned it, but I was bobbing around looking for a safe mooring, and Sharon was semaphoring distress on all frequencies, so we didn’t really have the time.
Nor were our sufferings over with.
Our lovely cabin was in the depths of the countryside. Eucalyptus trees – more about them later – and mice. We had a mouse. It widdled on the giant box of Hotel Chocolate choccies we’d brought with us in case Devon had run out. It ate the Doritos. And then it started on the microwave cable.
I should say at this point that I wasn’t present for any of this. I was in bed recovering from hot tub trauma. Sharon, in no good mood because she’d been woken by a mossie – she’s mossie central – became aware of the sound of chewing in the kitchen. Not human chewing, I hasten to add. Getting up to investigate she discovered the mouse, making substantial inroads into vital supplies.
Her subsequent attempts to corner the mouse woke the other brother – I slept through everything, so I can’t describe the carnage – and they pursued an obviously feral and super-intelligent mouse around the kitchen. Very unsuccessfully, I should tell you. They both managed to injure themselves quite substantially and do a fair amount of damage to the kitchen, as well. Eventually, the mouse got bored and, with a contemptuous flick of its tail, disappeared behind the tumble dryer.
All this was recounted at breakfast. I probably could have been more sympathetic.
Further holiday highlights included an orange elephant, the eating habits of koala bears, molten temperatures, the other brother’s attempts to kill me by dragging me to the top of Hay Tor, paddling in the sea at Teignmouth, wonderful scenery, and a lot of food.
I mentioned the eucalyptus forest, didn’t I? Owned and managed by our kind host, who supplies zoos in this country and Europe with eucalyptus leaves for koala bears. He was telling us about all the different varieties he has to grow because they all like different flavours. And there’s no guarantee they won’t suddenly go off one type of leaf, and he has to supply something different. Picky!
And there was a snake in the duck pond. Sadly, I never got to see it, which was a shame because I like snakes. Just a small one, apparently, so those of you imagining a thirty-foot anaconda will be as disappointed as I was. There’s a sad lack of giant anacondas in this country.
Fun Fact, courtesy of Mr Markham: If you have the misfortune to be swallowed by a giant anaconda and it enjoyed the experience – yum, tasty – then they can regurgitate you and eat you all over again. Isn’t that interesting?
Sadly, the holiday is now over and I have to return – somewhat soggily – to work. I’d manage to type THE END for Well, That Could Have Gone Better, although that’s only the end of the first draft. Now I have to go through and lose about ten thousand words so that it resembles an actual book and not a series of incoherent ramblings – rather like this week’s Substack offering.
Stay frosty peeps!
That was an attempt to render myself relevant to young people and today’s modern world. Please do not be alarmed – I shan’t be doing that again.
This event was sold out but 20 extra tickets have been made available.
Join bestselling author Jodi Taylor for a special evening celebrating the launch of A Family Affair, the second novel in her delightful Smallhope & Pennyroyal series.
Jodi will be talking about the inspiration behind the book, reading an exclusive extract from A Family Affair, and answering your questions in a lively Q&A session. Whether you’re a long-time fan of The Chronicles of St Mary’s or discovering Amelia Smallhope and Pennyroyal for the first time, this promises to be an entertaining evening full of humour, history and storytelling.
After the event, you’ll have the opportunity to meet Jodi during a book signing, with signed copies of A Family Affair and other titles available to purchase.
We look forward to welcoming you for what promises to be a memorable evening.
Would you like to write a guest post for the newsletter? We'd love to hear from you. Whether it's history, travel, a book review or a humorous anecdote, please send a brief outline of your idea to hazel@rushford.ltd. We can't wait to read it!
The Ballad of Smallhope and Pennyroyal has been selected for a July Kindle Monthly Deal in both the UK and the US - hooray! If you haven’t read the first book in the series then now is the time at just 99p or 99 cents.
CLICK HERE for UK CLICK HERE for USA
Win a SIGNED hardback and one-of-a-kind signed print when you pre-order A Family Affair by Jodi Taylor
Everyone’s favourite time-travelling bounty hunters are back in A Family Affair, the twisty and hilarious new Smallhope & Pennyroyal adventure!
We are offering one lucky fan the chance to win a hardback copy of A Family Affair and a one-of-a-kind A4 art print, both signed by Jodi Taylor herself.
To enter the prize draw, simply pre-order your copy of A Family Affair in any format, from any UK retailer of your choice, and upload your proof of purchase via the link below. You’ll be automatically entered. Good luck!
Our next big adventure is The Great Recovery Job, taking place on 19 September. If you’ve ever fancied stepping inside one of Jodi’s worlds rather than simply reading about it, this is your chance. You’ll become part of a team of Recovery Agents, solving puzzles, gathering intelligence, uncovering clues and attempting to pull off an audacious historical heist. It’s shaping up to be something rather special, and we’d love to see you there.
There are still tickets available, so if you’ve been thinking, “I’ll get round to booking...”, this is your gentle reminder! BOOK NOW
New Writing Competition! Write a short play to be performed at Jodiworld
This is your chance to put words into the mouths of two figures from history — and add a little Jodi Taylor chaos to the mix.
The Brief
Your play must feature two historical figures meeting for afternoon tea. What they talk about, argue about, or discover they have in common is entirely up to you.
The play must be set within or make use of one or more of Jodi Taylor’s fictional universes.
Entries may be comic, dramatic, heartfelt, chaotic, or any combination thereof — but should feel at home within the spirit of Jodi Taylor’s worlds.
Christmas Past - available for Kindle and is included in Long Story Short anthology
The First Farrell Family Christmas.
Max, Leon, and their son Matthew prepare to celebrate their first Christmas together at St Mary’s—a season known for extravagant feasts, spirited antics, and the traditional, albeit unauthorised, festive time jump. This year, the adventure becomes a family affair.
Max takes Matthew on a journey back to 19th-century London to deliver a parcel of Christmas cheer to his former companions. However, their plans lead them into a confrontation with the formidable Old Ma Scrope, adding an unexpected twist to their excursion. Despite the pain of the past, they discover that goodwill and family ties can transcend time itself.
Jodi Taylor says…
‘The one where Matthew and Max take their first steps towards an understanding. The king-sized picnic they take to the starving boys was personally researched by me. I don’t think anyone realises quite how many sausages authors must force down for the sake of verisimilitude. A little more sympathy, please.’