Kim Cleary

Forced to leave a successful career in marketing after multiple sclerosis damaged her hands and prevented her from typing, Kim learned how to write using voice software.
A self-described chocoholic, Kim loves writing, gardening, cooking, playing with her dogs, and spending time with friends. She lives with her husband and two dogs in Melbourne.
I’m a fan of indie publishing and the world of authorpreneurs! I can pinpoint when I decided to go the indie route. It was about three quarters of the way through the first draft of my debut novel, Path Unchosen. For a short time, I did consider trying the traditional route. I researched agents and publishers, read widely, and studied publishing trends.
In the end, I didn’t contact any agent or publisher. That way felt old-fashioned, too removed from how and why readers are selecting books to read. I’ve indie published Path Unchosen and Truth Unveiled, the first two books in a paranormal suspense series; and I’m currently finishing the first draft of a more edgy novella set in the same world.
What authors do you like to read?
I read widely, not just from the speculative genres. I love Terry Pratchett, Jim Butcher, Ilona Andrews, Patricia Briggs, Ian Rankin, Alexander McCall Smith, Nora Roberts, Deanne Raybourn to name a few.
Are you a plotter or a “pantser”?
I’m a pantser by nature, so I tend to jot down very brief points to be certain I have a story worth telling. But experience has taught me, that just jumping in without a plan can lead to a lot of rewriting, so now I write a brief outline of the main plot points. Then I write my first draft. I can’t write from beginning to end, instead I write as much as I can in a linear fashion. I might jump ahead to write a scene that’s fighting to come out, then I might jump backwards and forwards as it feels right. Once a first draft is done, I edit it myself as much as I can, before sending it to a professional editor for a structural edit first, then a line edit.
At what age did you start telling stories and then writing them down?
My very first story was inspired by Ratty and Mole, and their adventures in Wind in the Willows. I wrote a short piece of fan-fiction at age seven, my English teacher asked me to read it aloud to the class and I was in heaven! I loved my career as a professional marketer in a large corporation, but I can no longer do that work. Writing is filling the hole left by that challenging full-time profession, and satisfying my creative urge at the same time.
What do you like the least about being a writer?
The one thing I struggle with, rather embarrassingly as I was a career marketer before sickness forced me to leave full-time employment, is self-branding and book marketing!
I decided at the start to limit marketing until I had more than one book to sell. I did two book blog tours with the launch of both books. I was pleased with the visibility and reviews the first one achieved, disappointed with the second.
It’s now time to get serious about marketing my books and myself. So, I’m studying book marketing, branding, and visibility to try and make sure I have a solid marketing plan that delivers awareness and eventually sales.
Find more about Kim :
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KimClearyWriter
Twitter: https://twitter.com/kimclearywriter
Blog: Kimcleary.com
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/kimcleary
‘I don’t do sex.’ I flicked a glance at Chief Engineer Simon Dubois before turning my attention back to the screen login.
‘Good morning, Lucy Wilks,’ the computer chirped.
The mellow light on the spaceship’s maintenance deck flickered. Simon’s eyes glowed, a seductive silkiness drew me in, but my mind pulled me back.
He lifted his palms. ‘I said dinner. Did I mention sex?’
‘You’re a man.’ I leaned closer. He mirrored my stance. My rebellious body quivered until I regained control. ‘It’s always on your mind,’ I whispered.
He shook his head, but a smile curved his mouth. ‘You can be such a chauvinist—’
‘This conduit won’t build itself.’ Jenny, my best friend and day supervisor on our ship, Phobos, jabbed a finger into my arm. ‘Flirt on your own time.’
‘Flirt!’ Simon brushed his hands down his tunic, strode away and shouted over his shoulder. ‘I’ll grab the connector.’
‘It’s my turn,’ I called after him.
He waved, but continued his strides to the end of the pipe. He pulled the heavy protective tunic over his head. His t-shirt rolled up and tight muscles worked in his abdomen as he wriggled into the cramped space. He twisted to reach something, a sheen built on the small of his back.
Concentrate.
It was just like Simon to save me from doing the dirtiest task, even though I’d just rejected his dinner invitation. I stared at gossamer-fine carbon nanotubes entwining into place. Tried to focus on the job, but memories squirmed in my head. Tony. My stomach churned. I thought I’d found my soul-mate. The searing pain of his rejection showed me how wrong I was.
I shouldn’t have visited Veshilles with Simon last month. Working together had turned into fun before I thought to apply brakes. The woodland holiday planet seeped past the security shield I’d built around my heart. We’d gorged on plump wolfberries, lain side by side and watched triple moons rise in an apricot suffused sky. His lips had whispered against my skin, his breath warm against my neck, our hearts beating in time. A shaft of pleasure pierced my heart.
I kicked my ankle. No more dates with Simon. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t get hurt.