Time for My Second Book to be Published…

I still have to pinch myself that I am publishing my second book in a year!

This time, the book is a collaboration with the Directors of Damsels in Success.  I have been involved with this fabulous female phenomena since its’ earliest days when the first group was created in Warwick.  That was five years ago, we have grown from one group to 15 and now, with the release of our book, we are set to share our success strategies for women to an even wider audience.

The distilled wisdom of Damsels in Success is now enscapulated in our our published work ‘The F-Factor’.

It has been all systems go at Damsels central as we polish the book to perfection, film the promo video and organise the Book Launch and Master Class, set for Friday 13 September.

It is going to be a fantastic event held at the Wyndham Grand Hotel, at Chelsea Harbour in London.  And you will be attending not just a launch – but a Master Class too…

Why a Master Class?
We will be teaching the strategies that we reveal in the book, live – and yes – I will be one of the presenters up there on stage sharing how to live and love the life you choose!  And after the Master Class we will officially launch the book and wet her head with champagne!  We are already receiving rave reviews, which you can check out here…

As part of the package you will also receive a copy of the book, get to network and be part of a fantastic high vibration event.   Tickets are now on sale at just £59.00.

There is also a very special VIP Upgrade, which will include: a goodie bag, lots of additional freebies from the Damsels Directors, PLUS an additional Master Class with Damsels’ Founder Lucie Bradbury on how a team of 9 women came together and created a phenomenal book and an amazing marketing process.

Which ever option you would like, check out all the details here…

If you have any comments or questions on any of this, please let me know???

Well, that is more than enough excitement for now – enjoy the rest of your summer!

With love and laughter
Sandra Peachey
Coach, Author and Director at Damsels in Success

Check out my first book – Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life as featured in Psychologies, The Lady & Best Magazine
Winner at the 2013 ‘Women Inspiring Women’ Awards
Nominee in two categories in the ‘Association of Professional Coaches, Trainers & Consultants’ Awards, 2012 & 2013

Tel. 07921 494363

Blogging for Business Workshop

Blogging for Business Workshop

Half Day Workshop: 9:30 am – September 10th, 2013


Blogging for Business Workshop with Laura Morris and Sandra Peachey.


The Fat Pug Neighbourhood Pub and Kitchen (Private dining room), 23 Guys Cliffe Avenue, Leamington Spa CV32 5BZ


Tuesday the 10th September.  9.30 am arrival for a 10 am start to 12 noon finish.

In this affordable workshop we will be covering;

  • How to make the most out of your blog
  • What to write about
  • How to use a blog to increase your SEO, Google rankings and much more.

Sandra Peachey from Peachey Days will be sharing how she turned her Blog Peachey Letters into a book: Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life – which has received 5 star reviews on Amazon, been featured in Psychologies, The Lady and Best magazines and also the BBC.  She has some easy to follow tips and strategies to get you blogging and get you published!

The price is only £15.00 and spaces are limited, so please book here.

Sandra also runs One to One Blog Checks to help blogging beginners and improvers to get their words out there – find out more here…

Blogging Pic 1

Letter to Forgiveness

Dear Forgiveness

What is there to forgive in my life?  All or nothing..?

Then this childhood memory suddenly swoops into my brain:
They didn’t know me, they’d never seen me before, but this was my day: me, a woman child of 12 or so lolling around on the swings in a strange play ground with a plaited friend.  Suddenly we were surrounded and my ‘friend’ ran off as three bigger girls gathered on me and punched, pulled, kicked and bit.  Bleeding and limping, I howled home to my mother, who held me close in horror and then sat me down and brushed out handfuls of the long blonde hair that they had yanked out of my head: my crown was completely bald and bleeding, then stinging with TCP – and to this day, the hair there has never grown back quite right – for now it is short and crooked, split and colourless, a constant reminder that hairdressers find a particularly shocking phenomenon to contemplate…

So I’ve been attacked physically, yes and verbally too; I’ve been bullied, slapped, put in mortal danger, rejected, misunderstand, deserted, overlooked, ignored, made redundant and hurt by people I loved and who I thought loved me.  I have been shocked by mild and wild acts of violence, selfishness and inconsideration that have devastated and rocked me to the very core of my being – shaking my belief in myself, in those entrusted to be with me, and in my very life.

When thinking about this theme of forgiveness, the playground bullies of my childhood came out to taunt and attack me again.  Why now? Why this instance?  I have recently reached an impasse in my life where it seems I have been challenged on so many real or imagined fronts; and the thought of forgiveness is a sudden and blatant consideration.  So this long lost and battered day in my life is rearing its’ head again and will serve to represent many wrong doings in a long and Peachey life; and I will now take their presentation as a cue to consider, resolve, heal and move on…

For an often sensitive, sometimes selfless and sometimes selfish person, living in a similar world – when people close to me – cross me, it afflicts me so very much.  This is magnified when MY feelings simply do not come into the equation of the maligned action – the perpetrator stating quintessentially that: I am not important, not cared for, or not worth the simple damned consideration.

So is that is my realm of forgiveness – created by others or dreamt up by me – a gift to be parted with or else a weapon of missed destruction…

For I remember using forgiveness with a point scoring, self satisfied, evil intent one day with my mother – who, as she so often did, was finding copious reasons to be angry with my teen self.  She was cursing and shouting and blaming, and then the tactic hit me, like a lightening bolt through my shoulders: I stood up straight, smiled, looked her in the eye and said ‘I forgive you for this and all the terrible things you have ever done to me.’  Then she flew at me like a furious animal and I was slapped and screamed at, whilst I kept yelling ‘I forgive you, I forgive you!’ through smug hot tears, and the point scored, prolonged the seething, shouting bout of unforgiving anger…

I never used that particular tactic again and have always realised after the event, that such strategies never serve me well…

So was my mother a victim of me?  Was I a victim – all those perpetrated times when I was sinned against?  Are victims made by others or are they self made creations – reacting to a chain of circumstances with a label of wrong doing, hurt and crime?

In my world, as a habituated human and my mother’s daughter – I can see blame every where – I can wear that crimson cloak of victimhood and decide it has defined me.  Then, as woman, as a coach, as some one who values her freedom of will – I can see that I can create me and my reality; and I can peel off the label or never let it stick in the first place…  And I do both: I dwell in darkness, duelling with demons, and then again, I skip in the sunshine, as time, tide, roller coaster and mentality decree…

Ultimately I find that forgiveness is a choice, a willingness, or a lack thereof… rather than a default setting sprang into via wounded reprisal – a bat to hit back what I feel someone else has beaten me with.

Forgiveness too is power – which can be smugly misused – but that is easily sensed – for along with words, forgiveness is an energy, and when it is authentically given, we just know – through tone, or eyes or six sense, or what ever our own flavour of antennae detects…

Forgiveness is power, though many would argue that it is a turning the other cheek kind of weakness.  And somehow, not to forgive, means that the perpetrator is permanently punished.  The thing is, in reality, that it is the un-forgiver that is punished – weighed down, in their own head and heart, with a burden they will carry, like a gargoyle on their back.  Such self punishment is ignored or a sacrifice to be chosen, (either consciously or unconsciously) in preference to condoning an ‘unpardonable’ act – when often it was considered to be a justified or non descript action on the part of the so called perpetrator.

And there are the minor indiscretions of life and there are atrocities beyond imagining, yet such unforgiven burdens are heavy mental weights to carry around.  They dawdle and drag you down, slowing the spirit and seeking to bloat themselves up with collected further (perceived) wrong doings – sucking them in, causing more and more to fly in and cling to one another – like iron shavings stuck to a mouldy magnet.

Yet the power comes when forgiveness is a choice and given of free will – although it is not always willingly presented.  It can come uncomfortably, or be as light and easy as a feather floating off from your forgiving hand – choosing to let it fly out of sight.

And most of all forgiveness is a gift – sometimes to the receiver, but more critically, to the giver.  Forgiveness is freedom, it is letting go of perceived or actual actions that clank and bang against our sense of self, getting in our way, filling us with dark ink; an ink that swills around our suffering souls, ready to squirt, fling or fire as ammunition out into the world, or to ripen and rot within.

So as these letters go… First of all I consider… I see what un-forgiveness does to me and brings to me.  I choose to see it as something I do not want in the life and times of me. Then I decide I want to give forgiveness and with it the cool, delicious relief and lightness that it brings to my spirit.  I name it and then I present it – this time as an act of writing.  I can breath this to its’ receiver or I can give it quietly, in my heart – simply and silently as my own cathartic ceremony.  Then I celebrate what I have done – a healing, amazing, liberating act of wonderful will.

And I know that I should be, am, will and may be forgiven – often and never too…

By giving the gift of forgiveness, I can now let the object of it go, or accept it or do what ever needs to be done to move on.  Not necessarily to forget or condone it, but to see it through different lenses, and to note how it has shaped me, in positive ways, how it makes me what I am: a vision stepping, running and then dancing in the light, to my own tune, the beating of my heart – a rhythm of pure love…

So, who ever and where you are, I forgive you, I ask your forgiveness, and most of all I forgive me

And that is how I forgive and this was my Love Letter to Forgiveness.

Yours sincerely

Sandra Peachey


Letter to Sophia

Hey Little Squitler

Well here you are… an idea made flesh and fur… Quite simply you are a squeaker, a looker – kitten and button cute; maddening, emboldened and a feline force of nature.  You are a complete and composite cat joining the Peachey Pride, so that our litter grew from two, to three.

I had wondered dreamily, about bringing in a third cat for years… I looked, I missed, I forgot – as life is…  Already I have two cat companions, both middle-aged male meowlers, and I wanted to bring female kitten energy in to my life and to the mix; to greedily create the next generation of company and purring and responsibility.  Yes, that was the idea…

So what Universal Law of Laughter decreed that when I said, no NOW is not the time for the next leonine instalment, did someone literally turn up on my doorstep with a kitten in cage???

Was it simply Sophia’s time and nothing to do with me?  You see, many cat people I know, (yes, even the pragmatic ones), tell me that the cat always, mystically, chooses you

And she came with her name – discovered as she was, with her mum and siblings in an old sofa in someone’s garden.  And Sophia, definitely suits her…

My visitors are fascinated by her multicoloured coat – she is grey, with patches of peach and dark stripes down her spine.  She has a Tortoiseshell mum, along with one Black and one Ginger brother – and somehow, all these genetic colour ways conspired into one pussy package.  And who ever saw a peach coloured cat??? Surely she was pre-destined for little old Peachey me!

Well here she was, in my life.  The cage was opened and the cat was out of the bag and into my life – immediately at home, skittering around, only 8 weeks old; new to this living dimension, yet facing it with such catlike confidence and an almost terrifying temerity.

I was simultaneously enraptured and in shock!  Within minutes there was mayhem – a squeaking, skittering creature on the loose in the house.  The adult cats were distinctly and hostilely not impressed.  A growl would mean George was in the vicinity, and a hiss would herald that Taz was within range of the grey furry force that was the tiny ‘Sophie Kitten’.

Sofia was no respecter of boundaries, too young to understand commands and to be fully house trained.  She literally tore through the house: ruining the curtains, crapping in crap places and shredding my skin.  She had a particularly horrid habit of running over my bare feet, with her claws embedding themselves deep into my pink flesh – my poor appendages looked like they had been run over by motorised a cheese grater…  And when ever I wore thick protective socks she would leave them well alone – oh she knew – the little madam!  And next I would find soil flung out of plant pots and onto my carefully manicured cream coloured carpets.

The most intense periods of naughtiness are first thing in the morning and last thing at night.  There is a distinctly wicked glint in those greeny grey eyes, and she switches into a terrifying, troubling trance; ignoring every one and everything in her wide awake wake; and skeetering and careering and trashing everything she meets along her tail trail.

The beautiful balance of the household was dangerously tipped.  The boy cats unhappy, me frustrated and stressed, then in the middle of it all – Sophia, oblivious to the maelstrom her kittenish presence was creating.

When she arrived in our lives, I was at the thick edge of a long period of illness and rued the disturbance her furry presence caused.  I mourned the quiet routines me and my boy cats had fallen into over the years, and the loss of their company, as they voted with their paws and left me alone with my grey bundle of boo.

I had to go to the trouble, damn it, of kitten proofing the house, of making changes to long established routines, as well as buying toys and special baby cat food.  It was all building up to a steam and bang of stress and pressure, and I thought I simply could not cope.  So I decided she had to be returned to her nest, for this Peachey household was not to be her for ever home – the sacrifices were simply, too great…

And the days turned and I ran around busily, stepping over the kitten, concerned with my daily doings and goings, and preparing for my impending, long dreamt of holiday…

So I went sailing away from our lion cave for a week, and while I was gone, the kitten was well looked after by my calm and mindful house mate.  Time moved on and I started to feel healthier in body and mind.  And somehow I had grown used to the idea of a little Sophia in my life and found that after all, I was determined to make this expansion to our world, work.

Having had the companionship of cats for most of my life, I thought I knew them and could wrangle and coax them to my co-operative will, but Sophia was a different pussy proposition.  So I read (up on cat lore) and reasoned, and then relaxed.

The ‘Little Squitler’ came into my life two days before my 50th birthday.  Friends said ‘what a perfect present’ and of course, she really is a gift.  So let’s drop the doubts, and ponder what this present of a puss gives to me…

I have a little creature to mother and I love that.  She is bonded to me and squeals her delight when she sees me.  She has such a steady and ready purr – it is quite delicious and decidedly loud, and it changes in sonic intensity as she exhales and intones her copious pleasure.  She loves to cuddle up and as her reward I scritch her skinny rib cage and scratch her chin, and no creature on this planet could possibly be more deliciously and delectably, delighted…

She chats away constantly – chirruping and berrowing where ever she goes.  She is still mastering the art of meowing, so the sounds that leave her tiny body emanate as high pitched squeaks of greeting, or complaint, or hunger, or loss, or love.  Shut her out on the wrong side of a door and she does the most piteous cries of ‘please-please-please let me in’, that I have ever heard in the animal world.

Her uncle cats are still not impressed.  My big black moggy Taz has practically moved into the garden.  He pops indoors quickly to eat or for fuss, and then the little interloper runs excitedly up to him and he is gone, being either in fight or flight mode.  George I always knew would be braver – despite his soft pedigree good looks, he is an alpha male and made of sterner stuff.  He is also bonded tightly to me and wants to be around me constantly.  And at first it was for minutes if she was there, and then more minutes, and now sometimes hours…

Sofia absolutely adores George and on seeing him, rushes up squealing her delight.  In return she receives a gentle warning swipe and a long, low, deep growl…  George will only tolerate her if she is still and silent, so if she creeps up to him while he is sleeping and snuggles in, that, strangely, is allowed.  Though the second she wants to play or squeaks or reaches out, it’s game over and he is gone, escaping any where she is not.

Sophia knows her name now, is occasionally responding to commands and loves her furry little life.  So a few days ago, when she was sitting on my lap, looking up at me purring, blinking and adoring, I wondered what lessons we will learn together as we pad and walk our journeys through life.  Her name ‘Sophia’ actually means ‘wisdom’, so time, tide and fur will surely tell.

We’ll work it out, since we girls are good at that, and the boys will work it all out, in their own feline way and with my intermittent human interference, too.

This is it then, the intention is now set: let’s all expand the Peachey Pride into a happy, harmonious and, of course – ‘purrfect’ one ;-).

With tickles and treats

S xxx

PS: See my ‘Love Letter to catkind’, along with more ‘Love Letters to Life’ to the people, phenomena and happenings that make up my Peachey Life. You can get hold of your copy here…  or else from Amazon (in both Kindle and Paperback formats) and from all good book shops…


                                    Sophia, ‘helping’ me to unwrap my birthday presents…

Letter to Mum… One Year On…

Dear Mum

There I was, rushing from one transient transaction to another – caught up in doing and being, and filling out and filling in the long hot hours; and eventually, in the middle of it all, I paused… and then the realisation racked and rocked me… You died a year ago, this very week…

A year… time and tide marked by the passing of days – of suns, moons and of tears. And laughter and anger too and all the other inner panoply of life, along with the external chaotic, diametric business of the outer life…  Then the crazy cliché of ‘how can that be’, how can this time have passed, have changed, have thrown me forward one whole year of existence – moving on from that one day..?

A day with a telephone call, a dazed evening journey to the hospital, a dark evening with a strange doctor explaining, wandering all around the verbal houses before he would say… when inside I was screaming – ‘just tell me!!!‘. And finally he told me… And so that was the beginning of this particular end…

And so my destination on that day changed, for that was the end of my mother’s earthly journey, and the start of renegotiating my own as a result. My sense of identity subtly shifting as my concepts of self, of connection, of reason, of pattern and of pace and place, all change and re-form and reinvent, and then connect back up, to a new whole, yet wholly recognisable me.

That it is what it is, with me – Sandra – newly orphaned child of this parish and currently good with where the journey has taken me, and yet I find that the relationship with my mother still lives and grows, and indeed ebbs and flows…

And as life is, I have thought of her and not, off and on, splinking on and away from the radar of my consciousness, and I know too, without doubt, that she is always with me, part of the DNA of my sub-consciousness.  I have lived my life to be so different from her and yet, so often, am so very much the same.

My mother was certainly feisty and often fiery and frequently noisy (her silences were, some how especially loud…).  At times, being with her felt like a constant drone of negativity, of bile and bitterness, of blaming and wailing and ranting. That is not the complete picture of course, but that is what I carried with me, for so so long, down trails of tears and disaster; till I found and released my own light, and then shone it back at her and then I could see her burning more beautiful and brighter in the glow…

Or so I think or thought… I’ve had a long tough period where my health has been difficult, dogged by headache and exhaustion, and this illness has been constant and chilling and it has changed the game of my life, taken me frequently to the doctor and to the hospital, and I have read and meditated and shared… and yet instead of healing, it has escalated to a recent point in time, through body and mind, onwards to the hated signs of menopause.

I remember well my mother’s menopause years, and I shared with her too my fizzing female teenage hormonal hours, as we were spitting and spatting through the transitions of our respective walking womanhood journeys.

And so here am I, now going through that second transition myself and not, I have to say wearing it well…  My body creates chemicals and has suffered them into my blood stream, changing the body that I thought I controlled; and then those horrible hormonal spheres infiltrated me deeper and deeper and then the mind bubbles, burns and bends with evil thoughts, hates and intentions.

Nothing would stop this vile onset – not doctor drugs, not change of diet, not chatting it all out with my female friends, neither incanting affirmations, or seeking alternative therapies. I was just not ready to accept and heal.  And so it all escalated and exploded and I started to speak out, to let my untamed thoughts and feelings free, like misty grey moths flying to a dark moon.

From this loosened version of me, I’ve said some really real and sometimes harsh things to those in my orbit… “Oh my god – I am my mother!!!”  Suddenly from my body being lassoed by horrendous hormones, I was actually possessed by my mad mother and it felt so intense that I was her, wrapped simply in my own outer skin…  Her disappointment, her bile, her anger and frustration were me and it was hell.  Hot, hurting, tearful, bloated and menacing hell.

And going through this, I have thought and said aloud, again and again, I can now understand more why she acted in those loud ways of hers, and have so much more empathy for what she said, did and felt…

The thing is, I could hate that my mother was so outspoken, so I always chose, in the past, to be the opposite.  Yet despite the hell, through the twisting agonies of hardened emotions turning to spoken word, I would remember that I secretly envied that chiding freedom of voice she had, and her complete ‘take it or leave it’ attitude.  And so everything I have said through that demonic time, I do not regret.  It was all my truth, and it was time to burn its’ way out and to face and feel the heat of its’ consequences.

With heaving, seething hormones – decisions and doings became heavy and difficult as I crawled this satanic pathway.  I wonder would the world who shared my surface swannings about have guessed?   The proud white swan was gliding in sweet sight on still waters and yet paddling furiously and drowning under water and out of subtle sight…

And that has been the year of my body and mind… and yet too, what an absolutely awesome year…  Mum would be so very proud (and I like to think, IS proud…). ‘Her’ Sandra has published a book, appeared in famous places – in print and on airwaves.  And her Sandra won an Award and received it in a gorgeous dress, with fabulous shoes and applause and dancing.  She was always proud when I did good and she was proud when I looked good.  And her Sandra has coached and spoken and supported and laughed and written and achieved so much and had the most wonderful time; going along and giving her gratitude for a crazy and amazing existence both in time and in head space.

Yet there it all was, the worse of me, inside of me, frothing and flailing; and I had to come, eventually to my own stubborn resolution, not overtly sought, for I could not see the way out.

It happened as I was leading my group of gorgeous ‘Damsels in Success’ to their own conclusions, resolutions and light… then suddenly for me too, the light bulb snapped on and there it was… sweet and blessed relief and resolution.  Here was my delicious clarity – to embrace this transition, these lessons in life and to joyfully receive my healing.  This is my selfish / selfless reason for supporting, for I constantly crave the same succulent thing too…

Well that was one balmy evening, and the next morning there I was chatting on a radio show in a strange city, and she would so love that… And then, later, my footsteps took me towards a cathedral I had never passed the portals of before – and I was drawn in, inexorably and naturally.  It was time to absorb, time to reflect, to celebrate and to make my peace.  I lit a candle and breathed the sacred atmosphere in, feeling my mother comfortable and close.

I wandered on through this sacred space and there were just two stained glass windows.  They were installed in the year I was born – so my attention was piqued and caught, as was my heart as the light streamed through the glowing arches above me.  I read that they represented the journey from darkness to light… and they were of course, there just for me – my sign, my message, my seal on healing.

And I walked out of that perfect place into intense July sunlight… A year ago, on another such beautiful July day – we said farewell to the physical mother and celebrated her life… That whole day, with its’ sun and singing; family and friending; remembrance and reconciliation, was a gorgeous gift from God for me.  Now, four seasons later, I needed this day too: to remember my mother in every way, and to heal and to reconcile – both me and her…

So now I have turned my cathedral corner and am again walking in the glorious sunlight…

A whole year ago, at my mother’s final church service, I stood up to speak my piece and this came to me: “mother has a message for you all – she has had a word with God and arranged this gorgeous sunny weather as a special thank you for being here today…”

And that is how that ending began, and then how this ending ends…

With love from


Doubter and Daughter xx

There are more letters to my mother, along with more ‘Love Letters to Life’ to the people, phenomena and happenings that make up my Peachey Life. You can get hold of your copy here…  or else from Amazon (in both Kindle and Paperback formats) and from all good book shops!


The Journey into Light

Would you like your own Peachey Letter?

Frank stamp

When I started writing my Peachey Letters blog, it was just for me… to exercise my writing muscles, exorcise my demons and to celebrate my blonde, complicated, amazing, up and down kind of a life.

It all kicked off when I decided to set my self a blog challenge to write a ‘love letter to life’ every day of the month of February 2012; and to ensure that I completed my own task, I decided to go public and tell the world what I was going to do on social media…

After only the 2nd post I thought I had done a completely crazy thing and would be judged for being a mad woman, having a mid life crisis… Then I started to get the most AMAZING feedback (some of which you can see elsewhere on this blog) – so many people were touched by my letters, and so it came to pass that a year later in February 2013 my gorgeous book ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life was published’.

Some of my letters sprang from my psyche and I simply helped them onto the page, where as others still were created at the request of friends, colleagues and mentors.  One such was the letter to Gill Potter, based on the speech I gave at her book launch…

Since starting my blog I have been asked to write ‘bespoke’ letters – for birthdays, weddings (vows and gifts), the opening of a business, Mother’s and Father’s Day, etc.   So, since I have been quietly beavering away at this in the background, I have now decided to offer this opportunity out to the world at large…

It’s all detailed here on my website – where you can purchase your Bespoke Peachey Letter which comes with a hard copy of the book too.

My Peachey Letters are my gift to you and if you would like the gift of your own letter, then I’d love to hear from you.

With warm writerly regards


Sandra Peachey: Author of ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life

Peachey Letters Out and About…

Whilst all has been quiet on the blog front for a little while, Peachey Letters has been out there in the world doing its’ own bookish thing…

To my great excitement the book is now stocked in library branches in both Leamington Spa and Coventry (central England for those of you outside the UK) and they have even been tweeting about it!  It’s a far cry from the quiet days when I used to borrow books at these same branches as a child, and I feel really honoured that they are supporting and stocking a local authoress in this way.

As a speaker, I am frequently appearing at networking groups, book clubs, charities and other organisations to talk about the book.  The fact that it started life as a blog and is such a personal memoranda, seems to have captured the imagination of many, and so I love to share my story and encourage others to drop their demons, celebrate their lives and pursue their publishing dreams too.

Peachey Letters and my self have been featured in a number of publications too: nationally it has featured in the hard and digital editions of Psychologies Magazine (see below) and a fabulous 2 page spread in The Lady.


The first ever media article was in my local newspaper in Coventry and there have been a number of mentions across Warwickshire media too, most recently with a spread in the Social pages of Warwickshire Life (see below).

Warks Life Article

It has also found its’ way onto a number of websites, including Silver Surfers, Mature Times, and an interesting Question and Answer feature on Female First.

Peachey Letters has even received a favourable book review from a local book shop – written as it turns out by my old RE teacher from school days! And I have found it referenced on a number of blogs, including this one from a lovely lady called Harriet Stack.

When I started my blog back in February 2012 – I never could have imagined the impact it would have, and the journey continues…

Last but not least I am developing not one, but four different new book projects at the moment!   The next one to be published is a collaboration with 9 authoresses from (female personal development community) Damsels in Success (of which I am a director) and for which I have written a chapter.  We are just about to start work on our 4th draft, which is why these things take time to come to fruition… so watch this space for more news!!

And that is all from Peachey Letters for now… There will, no doubt be more…

With warm regards


Sandra Peachey: Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life

You can purchase the book on my website, on Amazon and in any book shop worth its’ salt 😉

Peachey Speaking

Sandie on Stage

STOP PRESS: 3 April 2013

You are cordially invited to come along to two free talks that I am giving next week on my Book ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’…

The first is at McKechnies Tea and Coffee Bar in Stratford.  They hold monthly book club meetings and I will be chatting about MY book on Sunday 7 April at 2.30 pm.  Find out all the venue details, etc here…

And on Wednesday 10 April at 2.00 pm, I will be talking at Coventry Central Library – again it’s free to come along.  Here is the write up on the library website.  The library is located in Coventry City Centre, at Smithford Way, Coventry, CV1 1FY.

I look forward to seeing you there!

Sandra Peachey

Presland Gets You Published – an Interview with Cathy Presland

Cathy Presland

One of the best strategies I can recommend to get you published is to get professional support.  I am currently working with book coaches Presland Quirk on my second published work – a book collaboration with Damsels in Success.  Here I interview Cathy Presland – one of the partners of Presland Quirk – who shares her expert thoughts on writing and getting published:

Tell me three words that best describe you Cathy?
I’m fun, energetic and expert!

What is your experience of writing?
When I wrote my business book back in 2010, my husband had been encouraging me to write for ages. “It’s what you do” he said.

Yes, I’ve always written. I worked as an economist and policy adviser for a long time so I wrote policy papers, political briefs, and programme documents. Some of them very long and very boring!  And since then I’ve have websites and of course I’ve always blogged. In fact I find it really easy to put together a blog post of a thousand words or so.

But I didn’t think of myself as a writer – and for years I found the idea of writing a book too overwhelming to even contemplate.

But once I’d decided to do it, I actually found the process really easy.  I’m someone who likes structure, so it helps me to be structured and then I write in chunks, not necessarily in order – in fact absolutely never in order.  I just like it better that way.

What are your 3 top tips to getting started on writing a book?
People ask me this all the time and I tell them that the biggest mistake is not doing it. It’s not as hard as you think. And, with the right support, pretty well anyone can do it. And now – especially with the digital platforms like Kindle, books are becoming shorter.  That doesn’t mean you can throw anything up there – readers are still critical and they want quality.  But it does mean that it’s easier to publish than ever before.

Get support: Whether you join a group or go on a course, it’s so easy for “life” to take over and the next thing you know two years will have gone by, and your book will not be finished.  Declare your intention to someone that you are going to write and let them help you get started and finished.

I already gave away my third one which is around structure. I think the more structured your outline is, the easier it is to write. ‘Clear structure equals easy writing’, is one of my mantras.  And your structure can change, you don’t have to feel boxed in by it.  It just means you are not faced by that blank page when you sit down to write.

What is your experience of publishing?
I am all about self-publishing. I love the fact that we can be online with a blog in no time at all. And it’s the same with a book. You don’t have to be beholden to a publisher or an agent.  Just do it yourself and get your ideas out there.  This is what I teach and it is so empowering to see people putting their work and their experience out into the world.

What are the main obstacles to people getting published?
I think it’s mainly in the head. There are so few barriers now – especially with digital publishing like Kindle – it’s very affordable and it takes almost no time at all. But still people don’t publish and I completely get that. We think that it’s all been said or that we have nothing new to contribute and maybe we think our writing isn’t good enough. But I invite you to look at your own bookshelves and I bet that whatever your reading interests, you have more than one book on any given topic.  Maybe you have all the books by a certain author and at some level they are all telling a very similar story – but you buy them anyway because you love them. I’m not saying that you have nothing new to say but I am saying that people want to hear you say it in the way that is unique to you.

What is different about what Presland Quirk provides?
We are very clear that the book is just part of what we do. It’s a means to an end.  Whether that’s personal growth or business growth, for us books are the magic that create the transformation. And the two of us together (with Jacqui Malpass as my “partner in crime”) we have a completely unique set of skills that I don’t see anywhere else. We combine business and marketing experience (both online and offline) with being brilliant coaches and trainers.

Why are you running the Book Boot Camp Weekend?
We know that life gets in the way. That there might be work, business or family commitments that mean that your book idea gets put on the back burner. So this weekend is all about focus and time. Focus to get clear on what the book is going to do for you. And focus on getting it done. Three days of unrivalled small group access to us is priceless.

What results can people expect from collaborating with you over the Bootcamp weekend?
Complete clarity on what your book is about and why you are writing it. And prepare to be surprised – because the idea you have now might change.  Once we dig into some of the exercises to get underneath why you want to write a book, and how you see it working for you and your business, it may take on an entirely new direction.

And you will also get complete clarity on how to get your bestseller finished. We don’t promise that you will walk away with a finished manuscript but you will have everything in place to get it finished in a short space of time and we even follow-up with you to provide the support to get to that final draft.

Presland Quirk are running their next Book Boot Camp on 10 – 12 May at Newport in Wales.  In fact if you act quickly, you can take advantage of their special Easter offer – get even more motivated by taking a friend along, as they’ve got a ’2 for 1′ deal if you sign up by 3rd April. Follow this link for all the information and to book your place…

The Biggest Secret to Getting Your Book Out…

Get Writing

The biggest secret to getting your book out is to do What Works for You…

Do you have a book in you, waiting to come out? I know I have 100s of book ideas crowding my head, waiting to make their way into the world.  Now I’m a published author I’m passionate about everyone having the opportunity to create their own masterpieces too.  I know that lots of things stopped me for so long and so I did some lightening research – asking around my social media contacts about the things that could get in the way of writing and also the strategies for getting on and doing it.

One of the major factors for me was the support that I got from Women’s Personal Development Community Damsels in Success and so it was with them, first of all, on a private forum, that I posted the blog entries which I eventually turned into my published book.

When I went back on the Damsels forum to ask for thoughts on writing, one member Sara Moseley, told me how she currently has 3 projects ‘on the go’ – “at the moment my photography business and family have a higher priority. I’m doing a little at a time on it, so it will get there eventually! I’m not in a hurry to get it finished…it is happening, just not at great speed.”

Fellow member Harriet Stack, a regular blogger, said “I had all sorts of thoughts of ‘not good enough’ and ‘no-one will be interested’ and yet now I am steaming ahead. I just ignore the negative thoughts now. I write when my life allows me to and don’t beat myself up when things get in the way, as long as I know I’m not making excuses!”

This is what I love about the Damsels in Success ethos of ‘Success with Ease’ – Sara and Harriet are 2 great examples of writing in the way that works for them and their lives – being creative, clear and happy with their choices and where writing fits into their lives.

To get myself started I set myself a public blog challenge, I know many people who have joined in public / group blog challenges in order to get themselves challenged and off the ground. Others are more structured and write for a defined period each day (for example for 30 minutes each morning).

Know what your patterns are, what motivates you and work with that.  For many of us, this is best achieved by having agreed goals set with others, teaming up with people going through the same experience and getting specialise expertise support.  You may have these in your circle or else can opt to work with book / publishing coaches, many of whom run courses and have specialised services to help you get your word out there.

In terms of getting published, anyone can self publish or else take the next step up and seek out community publishing deals.  If you want to go for a publishing deal with a traditional publishing house, start with the current edition of the ‘Writers and Artists Year Book’ to find agents that will fit your milieu or search around for resources on getting your manuscript from Pitch to Publication.  Amazon certainly has plenty of books on the subject and Google always nets results – though be careful before you commit to buying any products or services.

On my part, I chose to get professional support and so I can personally recommend the services of Mindy Gibbins Klein – AKA the Book Midwife, whose next course starts in April – check out the details here and Presland Quirk’s Book Boot Camp weekend – both where you will get the time, structure and professional support – to start writing and get published.  Heads Up: there is a two for one offer if you book the Book Boot Camp’ by 3rd April!  Follow this link for all the information…