My guest is historical fiction author, Alison McQueen. She spent twenty years in corporate advertising and now writes fascinating stories set in India. Alison's topic highlights the frustration of many writers trying to write while balancing a job and raising children. It's never easy to find time. Recently, she discovered the bliss of writing in a quiet house sans children.
The holiday season is over, the house now empty,
and I feel as though I’ve been waiting for this moment for over
20 years. Every writer out there who is also a mother, perhaps a wife too, will
understand what I’m talking about.
I always knew this day would come, although I
didn’t quite believe it. That’s the trouble with raising a family. When you’re
right in the thick of it, it feels like it will never end. And if you’re trying
to write a novel while simultaneously making the dinner and refereeing
arguments about who broke the hair straighteners and why you can’t go out
looking like that, then you have my deepest sympathy.
My daughters are now in their twenties. They
still argue, but these days it doesn’t usually involve throwing things at each
other and slamming doors so hard that the house shakes. One of them now lives
an hour away with her boyfriend, so the other one has nobody to yell at most of
the time anyway. From where I’m sitting, it’s bliss. I can actually hear myself
think.
Right now the loudest thing in the house is the
tap-tapping of my keyboard. There is a little part of me that is still in deep
shock. I keep waiting for a problem to come marching in, or for someone to
demand to know where their favourite jeans are, or why there’s no food in the
fridge.
Friends say to me, “Don’t you miss the kids?” and
“I just don’t know what I’ll do when mine grow up and leave.” And I find myself
making noises which can be interpreted either way. It seems so wrong to punch
the air and give a victory whoop. There were times in the past when I used to
get so frustrated at not being able to write that I would shut myself in the
bathroom for a cry. Those days seem far off now.
I live in a
small English village with thatched cottages, narrow country lanes and an old
parish church with a towering spire. Nearby are miles of canals, ancient
woodlands, stately homes and historic family seats, including that of the
Spencer family at Althorpe, two villages away. It’s a peaceful place, perfect
for writing.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9l378zwiRe5v2c_souti9DnYzp3L2Jl1EuQNwg8a0RERaQbW0d0HARUlb9KNP90OfzHXffBAOA00X7pNBXkjuGOVKoDtlIQybVcr8OYlOTUE5ofUUIWbKttXxxPCfsMGRUxoCrxn3E3Gy/s200/Albertus_Verhoesen_Chickens_and_park_vase.jpg)
I’d like to
complain to somebody, to sit with a cup of coffee and have a good old moan
about how lonely and agonizing the business of writing can be, but there ain’t
nobody here but us chickens.
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UNDER THE JEWELLED SKY
A breathtaking story of forbidden love and devastating consequences...
The moment Sophie steps onto India's burning soil, she realizes her return was inevitable. But this is not the India she fell in love with ten years before in a maharaja's palace. This is not the India that ripped her heart out as Partition tore the country in two. That India, a place of tigers, scorpions, and shimmering beauty, is long gone.
Drawing on her own family's heritage, acclaimed novelist Alison McQueen beautifully portrays the heart of a woman who must confront her past in order to fight for her future. Under the Jeweled Sky deftly explores the loss of innocence, the urgent connection in our stars, and how far we'll go to find our hearts. Excerpt
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04VjeQOj6GuvJ54iL0WsIbX494YMrb951zgy1T5cV9OsE3buyXCsCvvmIjGRkNjBy918augV-_5W3iQNEfz6MClrbYLLX06-dnl3BSXzNEuMdRbJetXvbzzge0uJYs6goXxqlAMJwxh6l/s200/Alison+McQueen+author+pic.jpg)