A nice cup of tea?

 There was an item on the wireless (AKA radio) this morning about the danger of drinking tea that is too hot. Potential damage to the oesophagus apparently.

Made me think about tea in general. I drink a lot of tea. Runs in the family. I have family anecdotes about tea. My grandfather tended to stir his until he stirred his way to Australia. My grandmother liked to have a tea spoon to stir hers, which led to her hoarding them in her handbag in the old people's home, until my mother restored them to the kitchen when she noticed the bag was getting heavy. I have six varieties of tea which I drink on a semi regular basis, at different times of the day. When I am out/out at my local writer's meeting at a local tea house, no less, I drink Iron Goddess, which is an oolong. We all have our foibles. 

I'll drink it however it comes, although I don't like it too strong, and it has to have milk in it, unless it is a herbal, when it usually has honey. I do drink those, or green tea on occasion. I was rather horrified to hear that Amol Rajan, ex Radio 4 presenter and current Traitor contestant drinks his with three tea bags!!!  I can't imagine what colour that might be. Strong enough to trot a mouse on, as the old saying goes. An ex coleage specified his had to be the colour of a manila envelope. I recently ran into the expression 'spilling the tea' which apparently means to gossip. Not one I'd hear before, although I understand it has been around a while.

In books the predominant beverage seems to be coffee. I read a lot of American fiction, so this may not be so surprising, tea being more of a UK thing. When it does appear across the pond, it seems as if it is more likely to be a herbal brew of some sort. The taste of tea tends to come from the variety rather than the additions or method of making, unlike coffee.

When I was writing Masquerade on the Riviera I wanted the hero Elliot to have a preference that matched his academic persona, so he became a tea drinker. He drinks Oolong and I had fun with some research with tasting boxes of samples, although I don't drink it at home now. 

Tomorrow I have workmen coming, for some odd jobs. They have me well trained. I know that the first thing I must do, before any work gets done, is make everyone tea. 

September, and the WIP

I know a lot of people welcome this month. Start of Autumn, pumpkin spice, falling leaves, all that stuff. Some consider it a time for new starts, the feeling of the beginning of the new school year, even when not involved in anything educational.  

Me - not at all my favourite month. Summer soon to be gone, nights drawing in, cold wet days coming. Not for me. And what's with the glut of Christmas books already on the shelves, and the festive chocolate I saw in the supermarket today? Buy now and they will be read and eaten well before Christmas - which I suppose is the motive as you will have to buy replacements.  Yep, I've always been cynical. 

So, not a time of the year I enjoy. But I'll get over it. On a plus note the WIP is progressing. Slow, but in a positive direction. I have another of those peer workshops coming up, where a group of friends get together to do a crit on work submitted. The opening of the second section of the new one is going to be my entry, although it will not be anonymous as people know who it belongs to. Which does give me the opportunity to ask questions on the work. One of the issues I'm wrestling with at the moment is showing my heroine's vulnerability, after life has thrown some terrible stuff at her, but not making her sound like a wimp. I'm hoping I've done it, but constructive opinions will be welcome. It's not for a few months yet, but I'll let you know how I get on.  

I took the manuscript to a number of meeting with agents and editors at the recent RNA conference, and got some excellent feedback and food for thought from professionals generous with time and ideas, particularly so as they were not looking at a completed book, but only the very start of one. And I have to say, it is not developing in quite the way I expected. But they never do, so I don't know what I was thinking. It's leaning into thriller and gothic, with a strong streak of conspiracy theory, which is the unexpected bit. The usual complex tangle, but my twisted mind enjoys the challenge. I'll keep you posted. 

Full English

 Breakfast, that is. (Or Welsh, Scottish or Irish, wherever you happen to be) 

One of the delights of travelling in this country - and there are still a few - is the chance of a cooked breakfast. I can never resist, although I don't always go for the whole thing, if it is a buffet where you chose your own. But always at least bacon and tomatoes. 

The 'traditional' breakfast now is a core of bacon, sausage, egg, then tomato, mushrooms, baked beans, hash browns or some other potato ingredient and black pudding for the very resolute. (I do eat it, more so now since the anaemia, as I think it must be good for me.) Fried bread might make an appearance, although its place seems to have been largely usurped by the hash browns - and then everything garnished with red and brown sauce. And of course, toast, either deathly pale or on fire, in one of those strange revolving hotel toasters, with or without marmalade. Fancy stuff, like cereal, muffins and croissants, juice, yoghurt and fruit are really the realm of the 'Continental' for the purist. 

I was wondering, as one does, when that ingredient list became the expectation. In earlier times, if historical fiction is accurate,  a cut off a ham, or a sirloin and small beer might be more likely for a gentleman, with bread and butter for the ladies. Possibly with home made preserves. And for us hoi polloi some sort of gruel or porridge or bread and scrape. 

I'm guessing that the classic full breakfast began to evolve in the days of country houses and Golden Age fiction, when there were still plenty of servants to cook and carry it all and a lot of produce would have come from the kitchen garden and home farm and would have been seasonal - not many tomatoes in the winter. Even then kidneys, kedgeree and kippers (all the Ks) would have had a place alongside the sausage. One of the pleasure of reading Agatha Christie era mysteries is those country house breakfasts with those massive silver domed serving platters. There must have been quite a bit of waste - although I expect the servants got a share, and in those days, the pigs. Which makes for a kind of circle which I'm not sure I want to think about!  For some reason heroes always seemed to eat kidneys. Not my idea of breakfast. 

The full breakfast has got into my mind from recent stays in London and the RNA Conference at Royal Holloway. I do have a favourite London Breakfast place - a posh hotel where the buffet has things like chai pudding and confit tomatoes. The hotel has got a bit expensive for me now, but I can still go there for the occasional breakfast, as they are quite happy to serve non residents. A bit of an indulgence, but worth it when I want to feel special. 

The quirkier side of London.

 As part of my recent trip to the RNA Conference I spent a few extra days in London. It was incredibly hot but that didn't stop me enjoying the city, from a mooch around the sales in Oxford Street, to a concert in St Martin's in the Fields - a favourite church and concert venue that's not been near a field in a long time. A few things I did made think of some of the quirkier aspects of the city, and some of the things that I like to do when I am there. 

Bridges. Over the Thames. Always good to walk across one. In this case it was the Hungerford Bridge, from Charing Cross to the South Bank, although I think the pedestrian parts are now Golden Jubilee Bridges, but I still think in older names. Being over the water it was a little cooler, one of the London Universities was having its graduations in the Festival Hall, which made for some interesting proud family groups and the view of the skyline of the city and the skyscrapers around St Paul's is second to none. 

The South Bank - a favourite since I lived in London and went frequently to the National Theatre. The theatre is an excellent place to meet, hang out or, on one memorable occasion, have a nap between an all day conference and a theatre performance. Places to eat, bars, loos, a bookshop, people watching... What more can you want?  I also discovered that there is a set of steps alongside the Festival Hall that currently plays you a tune as you walk on them. A bit of a shock, until I cottoned on. In the evening on the way back from the concert I enjoyed the Carnival atmosphere of stalls and food trucks around the Eye. 

Fish and Chip Shops I usually manage one meal of fish and chips when I'm in town, because the standard is good and on the whole it is a more economical option than many other eating places. I have favourites in Paddington, Waterloo and Covent Garden. 

Occult bookshops. Three favourites, Watkins in Covent Garden, Treadwells in Store Street and Atlantis in Museum Street. I like to browse - the amazing variety of tarot cards which I find fascinating, sometimes mind boggling, and books on folklore subjects which are useful for research, especially those relating to Welsh and Celtic traditions which I am using for background for future books, like the WIP, set in Wales.  

And also I simply enjoy wandering and looking - people, shops, blue plaques, pubs with fabulous floral displays, tour busses - including the afternoon tea and the ghost bus - unexpected Georgian Squares, luxury hotels, streets full of theatres, mysterious alleyways, probably best not explored after dark, all sorts of boats on the river, street performers. This time I saw one of the driverless cars being trailed on the streets for use as taxi cabs. Not sure how keen I would be - if it was completely without human involvement, but there seems to be a 'safety driver' so I'm not sure. Don't think I will be giving up on the traditional black cabs any time soon. 

RNA Conference Part II

 Last week I began the account of a great weekend at the Romantic Novelists' Association conference. 

Saturday - the main day of the event - I began with two more appointments with agents. Very productive, encouraging and confidence building. Now I have to put what I learned into practice. I missed the first two sessions but made it to the AGM - all the business of the Association and a celebration of volunteers and retiring board members and officers. Author Carrie Elks was welcomed in as president, replacing Sue Moorcroft who had done a great job for three years. Everyone wished them both well. 

After lunch I went to a session on Instagram. Most of it went over my head, but one day i hope to make a start with it, so some bits might surface again. The last slot of the day was taken by Orna Ross from the Alliance of Independent Authors all about book data. Interesting, but limited in scope if you are with a traditional publisher without access to your statistics. If I ever self publish I will be joining the Alliance for sure. 

The gala evening began with me squirming my way into my jazzy summer jump suit. Sadly I can't get into my favourite green one! There was a barbeque in the grounds of the impressive Founders' Building and a disco that attracted a number of my colleagues. I was content to stay in the bar and gossip. 

On Sunday I enjoyed a talk from academics from Birmingham University on an in depth study on romantic fiction. Fascinating and catnip to a fellow academic. After a talk by some recent winners of the Joan Hessayan Award, which I won over a decade ago, there was a session I was really looking forward to - a talk on self editing from KJ Charles, an author I really admire, a former editor and an entertaining speaker. I learned a lot and have already pre-ordered the book on editing she is bringing out later in the year. Then lunch and that was the end. Goodbyes, a train trip into Waterloo and a quick stagger to a nearby Premier inn, where I sat down on the bed and dozed for the rest of the evening. The trip home the next day was a marathon, line side fires and melting rails. I set out at 11.30 at Paddington and got home at 5 pm, but all in all it was a very happy weekend.

Oh - and that quote, about wine and toilet rolls. Apparently they are the two things the university noted that they had to stock up on for this second visit of the RNA to Royal Holloway. 

Wine ... and toilet rolls?

 Last weekend was the Romantic Novelists Association Conference and I am still in recovery, which is why this post is a bit late. Even after three night's sleep I am still exhausted with a saturated brain. It was a mixed bag, but I really enjoyed myself, and got a lot out of it. 

The conference proper only takes place every other year now, and the cost is quite a chunk of money to invest in your career, but it is also an opportunity to catch up with friends I rarely see and make a few new ones. 

It was held for the second time at the Royal Holloway in Egham, which is part of the University of London.  I had a couple of nights in London prior to the conference, but more of that in future posts. 

I was a bit later than I wanted to be getting there on Friday so missed the opening sessions. I wasn't in my best mood either as when I got there there were no taxis at the station and I had to find my way to the local bus. I have to say that the local bus drivers are lovely as that is the second time this has happened. I'm going to have to learn how to Uber! 

Friday was fraught, as I was lucky enough to have four appointments with agents and editors two of which were early that afternoon, and the queue for lunch was very long, so I ended up with just a small bowl of salad to keep me from taking bites out of the furniture. The 1-2-1 appointments were very useful indeed. I took the WIP which is very much 'in progress' but which I wanted to test out with experienced professionals. It was worth it. I now have comments and suggestions to think about as I develop the idea. Now I just have to keep writing!  

My first session was writing great sex - yes, well how could you resist that? Very interesting on the current trends and expectations, with a few things to definitely avoid. I recall a memorable session with Julie Cohen many years ago, that involved among other things, chocolate, a strawberry and a feather, which was looking at how to write sensual scenes. That hour shaped how I write my love scenes ever since.  It was good to get another, very different perspective. 

The last session was given by a friend - Luisa Jones, who is a trainer and coach IRL and brought some of those techniques to the creation of characters. I apparently worried her by staring into space when she gave us time to consider how we might apply Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs to a protagonist. I was working out how it would apply to heroine Nel - and very useful it was too.  After that it was dinner when I made up for the lack of lunch and the hopeless Romantics Quiz. Films, books, music, mating habits - all with a romantic theme. Our team achieved a respectable place in the middle of the field. 

I was ready for bed by then. As a university it was student accommodation and I have to say that playing students gets a bit less attractive as you get older. The dark walk through the wood to reach the residence block was a bit more atmospheric than I would have liked too, but my shower worked and the bed must have been okay as I slept fine, if not for long enough. 

That was the first day.  More about the rest of the weekend next week - and an explanation of the title of the post.

To be continued ...

Evolving language

 Probably the most famous creator of new words, word combinations and phrases was Shakespeare. He's credited with nearly 2,000 new words. 

Changes in language still go on. One has happened to my knowledge in the last few years. And it is one that drives me mad. 

When I was in school - yes, dinosaurs prowled the playground - spelling and grammar was still formally taught. I was always hopeless at spelling, and still am - I've often wondered if there was a bit of dyslexia going on - thank heaven for the spell checker. I always say that my terrible handwriting is to disguise my spelling, but actually it is probably the product of years of note taking, in work and academia, so it has degenerated into a system of hieroglyphics. I was okay with grammar though, which is why the new use of the phrase about boredom - to be bored of something makes me grumpy. It's bored with, people. The new way is like nails on a blackboard - and I doubt if that is something heard much in the classroom these days either.

Sadly, for my blood pressure, bored of seems to have become common usage and it doesn't look as if the old usage is going to be coming back.

I'm not above breaking the rules. One of my favourites is never starting a sentence with And, But or Because. I shatter that one frequently. But I do try not to end a sentence with a preposition, although that is another one that gets bent in common usage, and not doing it can sound a bit weird, especially in dialogue, which is a whole different ball game. 

The world moves on. It appears that what I spent time learning in school can now be done  for you by Artificial Intelligence, but I must say that I do value the time that an excellent English teacher took to teach me the rules. Tools of my trade.