Snap judgements

A few weeks ago I attended the Bournemouth Festival of Romance Writing. You can find the post about it in the October archive list. I mentioned then the Slay the Slush Pile panel, when three editors indicated how far they would read in an anonymous script before deciding whether to reject or read on. The speed of the responses was fascinating - and I have to say, somewhat depressing. 

But now I have to admit that I have found myself doing something similar. A realisation that came to me when I sent back a selection on my Kindle that hadn't grabbed me in the sample pages. 

I have always been a die hard library user, from the age of seven, when you were allowed to have your first library card. You had to be able to sign your name and that was when you were expected to have mastered the art of joined up writing. 

My habits have changed quite a bit since becoming a Kindle reader. For a start, I actually buy more books. I still use the library, and am an avid user of the reservations system, but now I buy electronically from my favourite authors so I can have them faster, and keep them! 

My tolerance level seems to have gone down though. Using the sample feature and subscribing to Kindle Unlimited, if it doesn't grab me in the first few pages, back it goes. This may be a factor of getting old - a lot have friends have commented that they now give themselves permission not to finish a book that isn't holding their attention, where in past times they would have soldiered on. Large scale library use might be a factor here. When you have struggled home on the bus with your weekly quota of heavy reading matter it is harder to give up on a book and the hope that if you keep reading it will get better. To be fair, sometimes it did. But not often, And now I don't have the patience. Always more fish/books in the sea.  

Impatience? Yes. But also more choice. If you don't have to commit to carrying it/reading it to the - often bitter - end there is room to experiment. I've taken a chance on an unknown author, a genre I don't usually read, a recommendation from a friend - or an algorithm - and found a new one for the favourites list.   

A little lowering to discover that I am just as quick to make up my mind as those professional panelists? Maybe. 

Moral of the story - that first page matters. 

Christmas reading.

 Regular readers know that I never intended to write a Christmas book. It just sort of crept up on me. What Happens at Christmas has been around a while now, but if you haven't discovered it yet, why not give it a go? I'm still very fond of Drew and Lori and enjoyed telling their story, And, of course, there is snow.

It's got a new cover, and you can get it now on Kindle Unlimited. It's romantic suspense, so it has some dark stuff along with the tinsel and mince pies - but if you are looking for a Christmas read that is a little bit different....

And, of course it has a happy ending. 

  Get it here

Not where but when

 Choosing a location to set a book is an essential part of the preparation process, but at the moment I am not thinking about where - it's going to be the South Wales coast - but when. And no, it's not an historical. 

It's contemporary, but I'm thinking about which season it could be set in. 

In the old days, when books took maybe a year or more to get into print, I don't think it was quite such an issue. Books happened when they happened - or so it seemed to me. 

Now books are season appropriate. With the production rate moving up to two books a year, a summer story and a Christmas offering is often expected as a norm. Indeed, Christmas books certainly seem to be much more of a thing these days.

But now autumn too seems to be moving into the frame. With the emphasis on pumpkin spice, autumn decor, like door wreaths, celebration of Halloween, autumn is also becoming a thing. 

As you know, I'm not a great fan of this time of year, mainly because it's always so dark, but the New Idea seems to be trying to set itself in the autumn. I'm not sure if that is simply because it is autumn, or if something else is going on. Certainly at the moment the Idea is coming up with a gothic tinge to it. You know I'm always threatening to write a gothic romantic suspense. Is this one it? 

There seem to be a lot of creepy houses and stormy moonlit goings-on going on. And did I mention the wolf? No - it's not a shifter romance. Logan is 100% human. He's the hero - he's been wandering around in my ideas bank for a while. She doesn't have a name yet. I'm working on that, but nothing has felt right so far. 

Maybe once that happens I'll have a better grip on what exactly is happening here. 

Research Threads

 Research takes many forms - and not all of them are procrastination, honest. Sometimes you need to look up something specific like character names, or breeds of dog, or train frequencies. Other times it is deeper stuff - building blocks to an idea, inspiration, background colour. And sometimes those odd strands coalesce and form - well, something quite unexpected. 

In the last few weeks I have several things that I am chalking up as research. My visit to the Russel Cotes Museum and Gallery in Bournemouth was one, as I have a number of ideas in the melting pot that will involve a Victorian house. 

Then, on a trip to London and a visit to one of my favourite occult bookshops - Watkins in Cecil Court,  I located a book that was on my wish list - Of Dove and Ravens by Benjamin Stimpson which is Welsh folklore and will again feed ideas into ongoing projects. I've just written what I hope is a creepy scene involving the Mari Lwyd  - which is a horse skull on a pole - for the WIP, and as that book has a character reputed to be a local witch who has just made her first appearance I'm looking forward to other traditional folklore I can use. The last thing I did in London was a trip to the play Born with Teeth which explored the relationship between Elizabethan playwrights Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare. I've long had a manuscript idea that hinges on such a relationship so it was a must see. And a memorable one with  Ncuti Gatwa and Edward Bluemel in bravura performances. 

All of these were to feed the inspiration bank, adding layers to ideas I am already working on or will be working on in the future. And then as sometimes happens an idea that I'd had a considerable time ago and not developed suddenly surfaced, gathered some of these elements up and became ... well, something. Separate bits smooshed themselves together and started to demand attention. I'm not sure where we are going, but I like what I'm seeing so far.  Whether it will be a story or simply idea soup remains to be seen, but I'm hoping ...

A Day at the Museum

 I'd made an executive decision not to travel back from Bournemouth after the fabulous Romance Writing Festival on a Sunday. Having had the train journey from hell on the way down, I did not regret the decision. (The journey back on Monday went like clockwork!) 

But what do you do on a wet Sunday in Bournemouth when you forgot to pack your umbrella?  I didn't relish tramping around getting soaked - and it was raining cats and dogs, all day. Luckily I had done my homework and discovered the Russel Cotes Museum and Gallery which I was keen to explore. Also luckily it was very close to my hotel. Even so I had to dry my showerproof coat out with a hair dryer when I squelched back after a fun day spent at the house. It is one of those gloriously bonkers Victorian piles - all turrets and verandas outside and stuffed full of treasures inside. It was a 66th birthday present from Sir Merton Russel Cotes to his wife Annie. The couple owned and managed the Royal Bath Hotel next door - where the Festival was held - and staff from the hotel looked after the devoted couple who lived there until they died.  I loved it. The decor - basically if it was a wall or ceiling, paint it, tile it or stencil it. If it was a window, put stained glass in it. If it was vertical, hang art on it, if it was horizontal put an ornament on it. The house was perched high above what was a very rough sea on that day. Many of the rooms and the lovely little conservatory had spectacular views mostly of lashing waves. 

The art was also spectacular - the house was intended to be a gallery to be left for the benefit of the people of Bournemouth and the Russel Cotes' were avid collectors. Victorian art - including a couple of lovely Pre-Raphaelites - sculpture, small pieces in china and metal - cabinets full of ornaments. Even a small museum to the famous actor Henry Irving who was a friend of the couple and stayed often at the hotel. I spent a happy day going from room to room studying the comprehensive catalogue in each one that explained the details of what I was looking at. A scone and tea in the very nice cafe, and a trip to the gift shop rounded off the day.   

As I have two idea simmering which involve Victorian houses it was a worthwhile research exercise. Plenty of thoughts to stoke the simmer. 

If you want to take a look the website with lots of pictures of house and art is HERE 

A fun weekend

 I've been out and about again - this time to the Romance Writing Festival in Bournemouth. I had a very good time and caught up with many old friends who I have not see for a long time. 

Bournemouth is quite a long way from Wales - and I have to say that I had the train journey from hell to get there. Delayed trains, cancelled trains, trains that terminated before the intended end of their journey. It seem like the rail networks and their passengers were having a bit of a collective melt down. The result was that I arrived two hours late, in the dark. Not a good idea for a place I have not visited for maybe fifty odd years? My Premier Inn was only across the road from the festival venue though - the large and impressive Royal Bath Hotel - so even without the chance to explore, I could not get lost. 

On Saturday the day began early and moved fast - panels on crossing genres, a sense of place, and finding your audience tumbled over each other, I attended the panel on writing about sadness - what I would call a tear jerker - out of curiosity. I know they are very popular - readers apparently love a good cry - but I could never write one. I am happy to murder any number of people in the course of a book, but that is not my genre. It was fascinating to hear from Lola Jaye, Emma Claire Wilson and Sarra Manning on how they approached it, and the effect it had as part of a romance - or romantic writing. 

The event I was most looking forward to - and it did not disappoint - was the Slay the Slush Pile panel when  Emily Ruston, Ellah Mwale and Sara-Jade Virtue as agents and editors, reacted to unpublished manuscripts, under the watchful eye of Janet Gover. Thirty five brave souls submitted 500 words of a manuscript to be read aloud anonymously to the panel, who then indicated how far into the reading they would go, before making a decision to reject or read on. They got through seventeen and none got as far as the whole 500 words. Some were rejected almost straight away - because the topic was considered too hard a sell or because there was some flaw in the presentation. Alternatively some were accepted for a further read almost straight away. Opinions differed - although there was one script set in WWII that everyone liked - it appears that WWII is 'hot' right now.  It was an illuminating event. The take-aways were that opinions did differ, so your manuscript has to cross the right desk at the right time, and that the first few lines of your MS are hyper important. So - polish, polish, polish and do research to find out who might be the best fit for what you write. 

In the evening there was a reception where the Mayor of Bournemouth presented achievement awards to Katie Forde who could not be there, and Milly Johnson who could and was visibly thrilled and touched by the acknowledgement. I spent some happy time catching up with friends. It was a fabulous day.

Next day - Sunday - it rained torrentially. As I had forgotten my umbrella exploring the town and the sea front was out, but I spent a happy day immersed in the delights of the Russel Cotes Museum and Gallery. But that is a story for another post.  

Visiting Royalty

 That's me visiting them, not them visiting me. King John of Magna Carta fame  to be precise - and Henry VIII's older brother, Prince Arthur. 

Those in the know will have deduced that I spent a day last week in Worcester. My first time in the city. As well a coffee, lunch and lots of gossip with long standing friend Mary, I visited Worcester Cathedral - last resting place of John and Arthur - or bits of them, as there was a habit of burying body parts, usually the heart, in different places. King John's reign was not one I have ever studied - most of my knowledge of him comes from Shakespeare - and Arthur was overshadowed by the exploits of his little brother, who married his widow, Katherine of Aragon. And we all know how that ended,

I was very impressed with the cathedral, even without its royal inhabitants. It was a magnificent building, with an amazing ceiling, lots of lovely stained glass, including a window memorializing Sir Edward Elgar, who was local to the area,  and a number of other memorials and painted tombs. I was particularly drawn to an intriguing one where the lady of the partnership was resting her head on a black swan. Apparently she is thought to be Joan Beauchamp, buried next to Sir John, her husband, although this is not 100% certain.  Her tomb was certainly interesting enough to attract my attention. The ashes of former Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, along with those of his wife, are also interred in the cathedral but in a part that was roped off - so I did not get close enough to inspect the plaque. 

I was so fascinated by wandering and reading that I did not remember to take any pictures, which is very remiss of me. There were cloisters, a cafe, which we did not patronize, although I have to say the smell of what they were serving for lunch was very enticing. The visit was completed by a mooch in a small but very well stocked gift shop, and I started my festive preparations by buying Xmas cards! 

I don't think any of the people or things I saw will be making it into a book any time soon, but it was a lovely day out, and I recommend the cathedral as a fascinating site for a lengthy prowl. If you like history, it is one for you. 

It's not just the writing.

 Writing a book requires application - time and effort. It's not easy to get 80,000 odd words on a paper (And yes, some of them are odd. Stop sniggering at the back). But writing is actually a lot more than this. It's editing, proof checking, fact checking - of course - but there is also the need for 'headspace' . This is the nebulous bit, and often the one that causes the most problems. Scribbling in a notebook, sitting at a keyboard, revising a manuscript - all these are visible. You are doing something, and seen to be doing something.  But none of this will happen unless you know what you are doing before you start doing it. Even those who only do minimal plotting have to have an idea of where they are going, of the nature of their characters, of the setting, of timescale and relationships, even if these do tend to work themselves out on the page. 

All this needs thinking time - and often this is the most difficult thing to manage. If you are diverted by the day job, stressed by health concerns, distracted by family issues - even if you just have workpersons in the house  - your head does not have room for the world building that needs to go on, consciously or unconsciously. I can't count the times fellow authors have told me that they have not been able to move forward with the current manuscript not because they don't want to, but simply because they don't have the space to think. 

There are ways around it. Some people use music. A well known channel is the 'plot walk' - a walk during which you think about plot. Easy. Jobs and chores that don't require a lot of thought can free your mind to wander. I did a shedload of ironing over the weekend and spent the time while flattening the pyjamas and tea towels  trying to work out a complex network of family connections in my head. If she was his cousin, instead of his sister ... All in relation to a will and an inheritance, of course. 

I'm definitely being pulled along by those cosy crime stories I have said keep bubbling up. 

The bigger the bubbles, the greater the attraction ...

But it's a very good box ...

 Am I exhibiting advanced adulting - or turning into a cat? 

You've all seen the memes about the adult debate over keeping a box because it is a very good box. And the ones of the cat ignoring the expensive toy/cat tree in favour of the box it came in. Even lions like them. I have occasionally wondered if there is something about the smell of the cardboard? 

I say this, because I am currently surrounded by cardboard boxes. Yes, I have been indulging in some internet shopping - a set of shelves for the bathroom. two large plant pots for the bulbs I have ordered that have not yet arrived, a new door mat ...

So why am I keeping the boxes? We won't go into the fun of wrestling with recalcitrant acres of card, attempting to chop it into pieces acceptable to the recycling collectors - these days it all has to fit into the orange sack or it doesn't get taken away. Oh for the days of simply propping your Ikea boxes up beside the bin bags ... Although I did manage to break my wrist doing that when I fell down the front steps manhandling them into position.  These days I am wary of severing an artery while wielding a knife ...

But we digress. I'm saving them because I am currently decluttering, and they are going to be filled with donations for the charity collectors. That is my story, and I am sticking to it. 

Of course, I might just be turning into a cat ...

Into the dark

 My annual complaint at the Equinox - Mabon, if you are in touch with your Pagan roots - which took place on Monday. Now it will just keep getting darker until the winter solstice, the shortest day, on 21 December. 

I know that I write the darker side of romance, and I have a professed ambition to one day write a gothic novel,  but I really don't like the dark, short days - and the cold too. I know that celebrating Autumn, or Fall, is a bit of a thing at the moment - harvest festivals, making preserves from excess fruit and vegetables, foraging, drinking pumpkin spice latte, curling up on sofas with cushions and throws and fluffy blankets, watching re-runs of The Gilmore Girls (yes, that is apparently a thing) but it is not me. I'm all for the sunshine and the daylight. If there is such a thing as re-incarnation then coming back as something that hibernates sounds attractive. A bear maybe. Eat as much as you can, then sleep for five months or so. I just looked that up and apparently snails can hibernate for up to three years. Not in my garden they don't - the pesky things are always on the prowl. But who would want to be a snail anyway? 

Putting the garden to bed, painting the outdoor furniture, hunting out the fleece bags to wrap my baby olive and bay trees, before it gets really cold are my autumn rituals, and I wouldn't really call them a celebration. One thing I do like is planting bulbs. I'm waiting for the box I have ordered to arrive - I already have some posh new pots to put them in - but that too is looking forward to warmer sunnier days of spring! 

I'm just not built for this time of year. 

You can't stop at one ...

 corpses, that is. 

I was pondering this when reading an American romantic suspense/thriller and considering our obsession - as readers - with serial killers. IRL serial killers are quite rare - but you wouldn't know it from the number of novels there are that feature one. It is a sad fact that victims of violence in the real world are very likely to know the person responsible - a family member, friend, co-worker ... But, of course, that's not dramatic. And it's not just thrillers that have a superfluity of bodies - even a cosy crime is obliged to have more than one, traditionally the second being the person who was shaping up to be the chief suspect. And we've spoken before about the victim who lets it be known that they have some sort of information/clue and is, of course, killed before they can reveal it.  And don't let's get started on Shakespeare, or Jacobean drama in general. Of course, they knew what they were doing. Events and situations that would be horrific IRL are simply thrilling on the stage, or between the covers. 

More than one corpse is understandable on one level - it ramps up the tension, but the other thing I was thinking, when reading that thriller, was that it allows the plot to develop as a puzzle. It doesn't matter if it is a cosy or a thriller a major part of the enjoyment is watching the sleuth unravel what is going on. OK, that can be done with one murder, but a series of deaths allows the mystery to develop as the investigator learns more and more about their adversary.  

Apart from the thoughts brought out by my reading matter, the topic has been on my mind lately as I'm currently still toying with the idea of having a dabble in cosy crime, as several fellow romance authors have done lately. I have characters nudging me, and what might be a love triangle floating around.  I'd never do that in a romantic suspense because I'm firmly of the belief that there has to be a couple that you can root for all through the book. The growth of the romance is an essential ingredient, so I wouldn't mess with it by introducing doubt, but in a book that would be slewed towards crime, not romance ... Well, maybe. There would still have to be some romance - that's a given in my writing - but the chance to walk on the wilder side? Again maybe. It's all maybe at the moment - but when something settles, I promise you'll be the first to know.    

A Writer's Tropes?

 Tropes are a thing at the moment - grumpy/sunshine, only one bed, fake fiance - you know the list. Writers do their best to fulfil readers' expectations in respect of these themes - but it occurred to me the other day that there are a few things that you might call writer's tropes - ideas that form a backbone or scaffolding for creating a story. I've started a list;

Who's the Daddy? 

Paternity issues often loom large - the mystery of an absent unknown father; children who are not the actual offspring of the person they though they were, opening all sorts of cans of worms, and catnip for an author; late discovery of paternal responsibility - I rather like that one, when the hapless unwitting dad find himself suddenly in charge of a child if something has happened to the mother.  

Return to Sender

Letters. We've spoken about these before. One of the big backbones. Everyone knows my dislike of the letter that is read but it's contents not disclosed to the reader - that one gets the book aimed straight at the wall. I'm uneasy too of the letter that is put away that would have ended the book right there if it had been opened. There had better  be a good reason for that, but I am OK if there is a good reason. And, as we know, a letter is often the only way the past can 'talk'  to the present. And that bundle of old love notes, tied with ribbon and scented with lavender ...

Fish out of water

This one sometimes features as a reader trope too. moving a character out of their comfort zone - from city to small town. to a new country, from rags to riches, or the other way around - a good start point for a novel working with the character to cope with a whole new world - and one that the reader might well identify with.

Violence  

The shock factor. A requirement for most crime and thriller stories, presented in different ways of course, but also an element of other kinds of story - a romance can begin with a violent act or event that has tragic consequences that kick start the story. Not just the body in the Library, although that is more or less a given for cosy crime. A fatal plane, car or train crash, a suicide, an unexpected death, even if a natural one, all with life changing implications for other people surrounding the person who dies.

There are probably many more, and I'll add them if I think of them. The big thing is that they are a pivot  - an agent for change - a place where a story starts or moves to a new track.

 And that's where it gets interesting ... 

The fashion in titles

 My post a couple of weeks ago on The Daughter of Time got me thinking about how much book titles have changed. At the era the book was written - during, and pre and post WWII - popular and genre fiction had much more 'flowery' titles. Quotations from literature - plays and poems. I'm thinking of the much loved Mary Stewart who often used Shakespeare or poetry - but also Jane Aiken Hodge, Agatha Christie, Evelyn Waugh, Earnest Hemingway ... to name a few. Now publisher seem to expect titles that are much more 'What it says on the tin.' 

In the age of social and multi media, shorter attention spans and a plethora of book titles on offer I can understand the appeal of letting the reader know what to expect. And maybe we are not so well read in the classics these days, making those quotation titles less easy to relate to the content of the book? It does make me a little sad though when I see yet another 'signpost' title that could be applied to any number of genre offerings. Am I an old romantic? Yes, I think so. After a rummage on the Internet I found that poetry and the Bible are particular old time favourites and there are some more recent examples - P D James and Ruth Rendell used literary quotes as have Val McDermid, Tracey Chevalier and Sally Rooney. I have a particular weakness for Jacobean drama, but it is not to everyone's taste and maybe you do need to know where Cover Her Face (P D James) or Nine Coaches Waiting (Mary Stewart) actually come from and the sinister gothic horrors that lie behind them to fully understand. I suspect that in 2025 both authors would have been asked to chose something more prosaic - or have it chosen for them. Like covers, authors often don't have a lot of agency in these things. Unless you are self published of course. Then you can chose what you like -  but I'm guessing that the choice would be more likely to be modelled on the top ten best sellers than what was appearing on stage in 1613.

  

A Summer Fling

You have all heard the one about the writer in their Ivory Tower - but we do climb down to the real world sometimes - and when we do it is usually noisy! 

That happened the weekend before last, in Birmingham. The Romantic Novelists' Association has dropped their conference frequency to once every two years because of organisational issues and costs, and this year was not one of them. Instead there was a one day event in Birmingham - the Summer Fling. A large group attended from my local RNA Chapter - the Cariad group - and I think I am pretty safe in saying a good time was had by all. We managed to make the change of trains successfully at Bristol - at the moment there is not always a direct service from Cardiff - and we didn't get asked to leave either train- possibly because the others ignored my repeated requests for cowgirl hats. I have clearly seen too many hen parties for my own good. We went out for dinner that night (Friday) and next day was a packed programme at the very swish Grand Hotel, living up to its name. Apparently the building was derelict in the recent past, but you would never have known. We all actually stayed at the Premier Inn across the square, which was fine and a bit cheaper! The day was taken up with sessions on the writer's craft, some behind-the-scenes looks at the publishing world, advice on promotion, procrastination, and plotting for emotional tension with a break for lunch - a bit spicy for me but very nice deserts - and all rounded off with a glass of fizz. I also managed a quick look at the Cathedral in the company of lovely Anni Rose. The stained glass windows were superb on a sunny day. I hadn't realised they were by Edward Burne Jones, very remiss of me, knowing my enthusiasm for the PreRaphaelites.  As much as anything the weekend was a chance to see friends and spend time with my tribe. I came back on Sunday very tired but happy, over a few days well spent. Looking forward to next year's conference now. 

The Daughter of Time

 For those who don't know, this is a 'crime' novel by the author Josephine Tey, which considers the life of Richard III and the fate of the princes in the Tower as if it was a criminal cold case. It is a Golden Age novel that predates the 'King in the Car Park' discovery, which is consistently heralded as one of the greats and in 1990 was actually voted number one in a poll of the greatest crime novels of all time, organised by the Crime Writers' Association. I was introduced to it by my history teacher while still at school, and have been a confirmed Ricardian ever since.  

In the book Josephine Tey's series detective, Alan Grant, is in hospital, confined to bed with a broke leg and a spinal injury after falling through a trap door in pursuit of a suspect. Not sure about the spinal injury but with a broken leg these days he would be hopping about with a cast, but things were different in 1951. To help with boredom, glamourous actress friend Marta Hallard brings him a set of pictures of famous people with mysteries attached to them, for him to choose one to 'solve'. Caught by the conviction that the portrait of Richard is not one of a malformed murderer Grant starts a cold case, with the help of friends and researchers. The book makes a strong case for the death of the princes at Richard's hand as a piece of Tudor propaganda supporting Henry VII's rather shaky claim to the throne. It's stood up remarkably well to the discoveries made in the intervening years. I'd recommend it if you are interested in history and cold case research. 

And now it has been translated to the stage, for a run at the Charing Cross Theatre in London. I saw it the week before last, and I loved it. The dramatic version is true to most of the book although the ending and the conclusion of who might have been responsible for the murders was changed. Apparently this was on the basis of the playwright's own research and interpretation of events, but not sure I'm convinced.  Didn't stop the enjoyment though. There was a new romantic sub plot which involved Grant being the subject of a Much Ado About Nothing type plot to make him realise that he is in love with Marta which was fun and broke up the investigation a bit. The set and costumes were simple but fabulous, as was the acting. I had a great evening, worth the trip to London and an overnight stay. If you are planning to go and have not read the book it might be a idea to read it first to enhance the enjoyment but probably not essential provided you enjoy history, know a little about the time period and keep your wits about you!

Note - The Daughter of Time is Truth.

Indie Love 2026

 In the late autumn of 2023 I took part in Indie Love 2023 - a fabulous event in the Parkgate Hotel in Cardiff that brought together a large room full of romance authors and their readers in what was an amazing day. Tables of books, swag, the chance to have a chat with a favourite author and find a few new ones, get a book signed. If you are a romance fan, particularly of spicy romance, and you weren't there you did miss a treat. But not to worry because it's all happening again in 2026, this time in Swansea at the Brangwyn Hall on 26th October. So make a note in your diary. And keep an eye open for more details. There is a Facebook group that you can join for up dates. 

I don't have a table this time, but I hope to attend as a reader. Maybe I'll see you there. 

Acknowledgements

 You've seen them - that place in the back of the book, or sometimes the front, where the author says a (usually effusive) thanks to everyone who has had a hand or even a finger in the production of the book. Having written them myself, the effusiveness is genuine - we are grateful for all the help we can get and you never know when you will need it again. The only exception to this I am aware of is Harlen Coben, who regularly blames all the people he name checks for any mistakes - but if you are Harlen Coben you can do that sort of thing.

Do you read them? I do. I am perpetually nosey and I love to know all the people who have featured in the writing of the book, right down the the author's pet hamster - especially the pet hamster. Unpublished authors who were looking for a publisher used to be advised to look for names of editors and agents who they might approach with their own work. I'm not sure if that is still a thing? Lists of names can read like an Oscar winner's laundry list, but these days I often find people I know listed - on one memorable occasion I found my own name - and I can't for the life of me remember where it was. Old age setting in. Including people who have given special, often specialist, help is a small way of repaying. When I ask for something and get a response I always ask if I may acknowledge them and am pleased when permission is given. If it is not, I wouldn't go public with a name. 

Writing your acknowledgements takes time. Assembling all the people who should be included, making sure that you have spelled their name and that of any organisation they represent correctly - I check those several times, you know what wily critters those pesky typos can be - making sure you haven't forgotten anyone. It is not an afterthought, or a chore, it's a chance to celebrate those who have contributed to the production of a brand new book. It's a record of the village that it takes to make a book. That's why I like to read them. 

Snail mail

 Does anyone even write letters any more, except for the official ones that arrive in brown envelopes and usually mean money - sadly going out more often than coming in, at least in my house?

I remember being taught in school the correct use of salutations and endings - Dear Sirs - standard for a business letter, yours faithfully if you didn't know the name of the recipient, yours sincerely if you did and had used it. 

I haven't written one of those for a very long time. 

I've just finished reading two books where the story depended on letters. In both case love letters. One was the classic discovery of the faded and scented bundle, written in coloured ink, tied with a ribbon. The second, more contemporary, featuring a relationship that began with two pen pals and moved on from there. Before reading the book I would have questioned if that was still a thing, but now there are sites that will put you in touch with people to write to - I just Googled it. 

I am wondering though if that classic, the bundle of letters, will survive modern methods of communication?  A bundle of printed e-mails, texts, DMs? Doesn't have the same romance - and is it likely? You might save a special e-mail, but a whole correspondence? Will this invaluable plot device recede further and further into the past? 

And it is romantic. The keeping of the letters in the first place, their survival, sometimes a question over the identity of one or both of the recipients. Some classic novels are themselves a series of letters - epistolary novels - although they often contain diary entries and other fragments. These days their place is taken by those e-mails or even voice recordings. as in Janice Hallet's The Twyford Code. 

Authors are finding new ways of using a favourite trope/plot device. But somehow it doesn't have quite the frisson of that shoe box full of letters. 

Over the edge

 Regulars will know my enthusiasm for the British Library re-issues of Golden Age Crime. I'm not a great lover of short stories - prefer something to get my teeth into - but as the anthology Cyanide in the Sun, which is holiday crime, was on offer from Kindle unlimited, I did take a look. I enjoyed the stories, many of which were set in old fashioned British seaside resorts like the one I grew up in.  (And have moved back to - although it is a bit different now.) What struck me about the whole selection was how many revolved around a crime resulting from a fall - usually over a cliff - there being an abundance of those at the seaside. 

I've commented before that I seem to have rather a thing about pushing people off high places - and it seems I am not alone. Actually I am doing it again, as the cosy crime I keep waffling about would start with a car going off a cliff. What is it with high places? 

Thinking about it, there are elements to appeal to a writer - if you have that sort of mind, of course, and if you write crime, you do. My excursions into falls from high places have twice been from buildings, not in nature, but certain principles apply. Always a possibility of an accident, or self harm. to muddy the water. It's a fairly effective method of murder, the human body being a fragile thing when in contact with gravity. and if you are talking cliffs, then there is always potentially the added ingredient of the sea. If the fall can be engineered rather than involving a hefty push -by misdirection of a dangerous path, an obstacle to be fallen over, even the intervention of the weather in storms or fog, the murder doesn't even have to be there. And the up close and personal method, the time honoured blow to the head with a blunt instrument can easily be disguised in other injuries.

Disadvantages? The victim has to be lured to the site. OK if that is a keen walker who frequents the path, but what if they are not? And the experienced hiker would know the dangers of the place where they were walking. And, of course the murder has to go to the location themselves to do the deed, or set the trap. Always the possibility of being seen. 

A fall seems like an easy solution - and it's certainly a popular one. But it actually needs just a much planning as shooting or stabbing - maybe more. But that is what crime writers like to spend their time doing.

Now - about this car, going over the cliff ...

Workshopping

 As regular readers will know, I am a bit of an academic nerd. Not quite -Never seen a course I didn't like - but always open to suggestion. When I was trying to make it as a writer there were a lot of craft courses - some of them useful, some not so much, but a great deal of that was to do with the way I finally found out that like to work, rather than the course and it is always useful to know. 

These days I don't do craft stuff so much. Arrogance? Maybe. Laziness? Probably. More comfortable that I know what I am doing? Probable, if slightly delusional. Research, now that is a completely different ball game. I love that. Huh - who at the back whispered procrastination? 

But yesterday I did do a craft workshop. It was a meeting of the writers' group I attend in Herford and the inimitable Alison May, who is a member of the group, treated us to Plotting, Planning and Theme - at least that's what I think the official title was. And it was a treat. I signed on because I knew it would be an enjoyable morning with friends, followed by lunch, and if that had been all it was, that would have been great, but listening to an expert, which Alison is, is inevitably going to produce some useful insight. 

In the event I got a lot out of it, some of it very unexpected. Alison's approach is plot through character development so we did quite a bit on that. I chose to focus on the currently nebulous heroine of the equally nebulous cosy crime I am sort of threatening to write. I don't find those traditional 20 questions models that used to be taught as a way of getting to know your characters are helpful to me. But Alison's questions were not like that. What does your character have under her bed? gets you thinking in a way that What is her favourite colour? doesn't. As least it does me. Possibly it gets my sub conscious moving. My answer was a hat in a hat box, that belonged to her mother. Now where that came from I don't know. but it has started a lot of interesting trails. I'm not sure that everything I found out yesterday doesn't make the idea of a cosy more complicated rather than easier. But I have got food for thought, so we shall see. 

I'll be sure to let you know. 

All in a name

 Most fiction authors will confirm that choosing the right name for a character is vital. It's beyond any logical explanation, but if you don't have the names right for your protagonists then the whole book can feel wrong. I have a book idea that is sort of brewing, but the name I wanted for my heroine has been used by a friend in a similar style book. The books won't in the end be anything like each other, but that name is out of bounds and until I can find another my book is, sadly, going nowhere. Writers are weird - but you already know that. 

As a reader, a name that feels old fashioned can seriously damage my enjoyment of a book. But fashions change - a couple of decades ago a character named Wilf (Wilfred) or Ava for a child or a teenager would have suggested to me that the author was elderly and not up to speed with current trends. Now it is all turned around and the old names are fashionable again. Even so, it's not all old names. I don't think Gladys has had a revival yet. 

Finding the name is therefore a small but vital piece of research. Googling popular names for a specific year can be a starting point. Writers of historicals of my acquaintance find a walk around a cemetery can be very useful. Baby name books, newspapers stories, eavesdropping on the bus - they are all sources of inspiration. Now you can use name generators!

So, that's the choice. But what about what the name says.  The idea for this post came when I read yet another book where the villainess was called Yvonne. Alright, I don't spell it that way, but I would like to know why the traditional spelling of my name always has to be the nasty girlfriend, vindictive ex or village battle axe. Huh - maybe you shouldn't answer that. 

Short names are popular. John or Jack is a stalwart for a hero. Shakespeare can give you the unusual - Hero, Orlando, Bianca. The Bible is always reliable for hero names. Millionaires are often foreign and exotic  - Niccolo, Bruno, Raphael. Advice suggests names should not be difficult to pronounce - although I'm not sure where that leaves some of the inventions I've read in fantasy novels. Using names that are too similar is a no-no, and I have been picked up for using names with the same initial letter! I've googled and there is a vast amount of advice out there on choosing names if you need it  But I'm still wondering why Yvonne gets such a bad press.

Travel by the book

 At this time of the year newspapers and magazines are making a feature of books to take on holiday with you. Reading on the beach or by the pool - or on deck - is a well established thing. But a book doesn't have to be something that accompanies you on your journey - it can be the journey. Escape  by book is possible even if actual travelling isn't, for reasons of money or circumstance. And it does not have to be just places - time travel is also totally achievable. All you need is the book.

In the last few weeks I have been to the Lake District (Sarah Morgan's A Secret Escape), a small town in Maine (Melinda Leigh's Midnight Exposure), Norfolk (Kate Hardy's The Body at the Vineyard), Provence (Veronica Henry's One Night at the Chateau)  and Siena (T A Williams' Murder in Siena). I've travelled back in time to attend the Congress of Vienna (Joanna Maitland's His Reluctant Mistress), and to Yorkshire  in the 1990s (Stuart Pawson's Chill Factor.) I've been to a couple of places that don't actually exist  - a invented Welsh Village (Liz Davies's The Ticklemore Treasure Trove) and a world where even the heroine has no idea where she is (Kate Johnson's The Promised Queen).  I enjoyed them all.  

Looking at the list, you can see I have catholic tastes. Romance, romantic suspense, police procedural crime, cosy crime/amateur sleuth, historical romance and romantacy. Several of the books  were written by friends, some of them I stumbled on by happy accident. The majority were part of a series, or linked titles, which reinforces the view of publishers that readers like series. Some I paid for, some were part of my Kindle Unlimited subscription - paid for, but not by direct hard cash!  That has been a good investment. I'm a fast reader and I read a lot. I've sampled things I would not have tried if I'd had to buy them, or carry them home from the library, with some enjoyable results. Also some complete turkeys, but that's life. 

I was wondering if there was a common theme - I enjoy reading crime. I like puzzles and mystery and a bit of excitement, but I certainly like to have at least an element of romance - and a positive ending. Fully fledged crime readers do not like romance messing up their crime. I have been told that often. I was amused to read a review of Stuart Pawson complaining about this, when to me hero Charlie's romantic failures were only an element of the story. And they were failures. Poor Charlie! They would not like mine! Romantic suspense is my favourite genre, which is why I write it, but it is not the only thing I read. Location is important. I like scenery and I love food. TA Williams is especially good for that. Lots of delectable Italian grub. Many of the books have animals in them, also enjoyable. I think there might be a post in the future on elements that make a romantic/cosy crime.  I was thinking too that the books divide between real life situations - contemporary or historical - which involve research and those with imagined settings which require world building. They all take the reader on a journey. Which is what reading is all about.

Crime moves on

 Warning - this post has spoilers for anyone who enjoys the British Library Crime Classics.

Specifically a book titled Scandalize My Name, written by an author called Fiona Sinclair and originally published in 1960. I was attracted to the book by the rather intriguing title and the cover, which suggested the London setting with a statue of Eros, although it appears to be in a park, not in Piccadilly Circus. 

I enjoyed it. Reviewers, and Martin Edwards' Introduction, commented on the large cast, introduced rather confusingly in the first pages, when they are all getting ready to attend a  21st birthday party. Being warned, I read the beginning twice and was much clearer on who was who. Martin suggested this was a characteristic of a debut book, which this was, and that suggestion strikes a chord.  Telling the story can often overwhelm technique when you are starting out. My problem was always trying to cram in material that would have been better as two books. 

The plot of Scandalize My Name centres on the murder of a rather nasty blackmailer and the stories of his victims form potential motives. It was convincing given its time, but it struck me that a number of the motives would not exist, of themselves, if the book was being written now. Bigamy and the illegitimacy of the children of the marriage, unfortunate letters that reveal a homosexual affair, the  disgrace of an up and coming young lawyer if it was known his father had been in prison. The revelation of all of these could still be a cause for scandal now, in the right circumstances, and bigamy is still a crime, but with the easing of divorce laws ending a marriage before starting another is not the immense hurdle, maybe impossibility, that it once was. Homosexuality is no longer a criminal offense. Society in general is less censorious. Crime moves on to match.. 

Reputation is still a consideration and preserving it would still provide ammunition for a blackmailer, but attitudes now are very different from those of 65 years ago and the story would be told in a very different way. If any of those characters in the book were real I guess they might be as surprised by  the changes in attitude over things such as illegitimacy as they would by mobile phones and electric cars.  The glimpse of a very different world with different values and lifestyle is what I find interesting in the British Library classics. Their popularity suggest I am not alone in this. And they are also very good stories.  

Conjunctive adverbs

 More pedantry this week. 

Bet you didn't know what a conjunctive adverb was? And yes - I had to look it up. 

They are adverbs that joint two sentences together - those high falutin words that manage to sound posh and formal when they are used  - however, furthermore, nevertheless ...

'She had moved house to a different city, therefore she could not go to her old friend's birthday party.'

I was told  - by whom and when, I don't remember, but it was a long time ago - that they shouldn't be used in writing fiction. I can understand, as they do sound a bit like something out of a business letter or a legal document. The advice came to mind a few weeks ago when a group of writer friends were discussing blurb writing and I jumped on the use of 'however' as being wrong. It was a reflex action (sorry, Luisa) but having thought about it more deeply, rather than just accepting that it was laid down somewhere in The Rules, I can see the logic. One of those Rules for Writers is that you should avoid using adverbs and adjectives. That's one I happily ignore as I like description and I think it is part of my style. I suppose the answer is moderation. Don't go overboard. But conjunctive adverbs? Can they be ditched? Probably. Two short sentences would do the work of one long one. 

Simplicity works, in vocabulary and expression. I don't believe in dumbing down - and I'm not averse to having to look up an unfamiliar word - it's how you learn. Reading on an e- reader is very good for this as you can look things up without having to go and find the dictionary. I miss the facility when I'm reading a paper book. You've probably heard the suggestion that if someone mispronounces a complex or difficult word it's possibly because they learned it by reading - which is rather wonderful, when you think about it.  

This post began because I jokily used the word 'forthwith' in an e-mail and with its formality was associating it with nevertheless and all its posh cousins. But then I looked it up and of course it is just an ordinary adverb. But still posh.

The posh words have their place, but maybe it is like that old piece of advice I was given so long ago - best not use them in fiction?   

Pedantry

 I admit to being a bit picky about the use, and misuse, of words. I'm not perfect, far from it, but I did benefit from an education in a time when grammar was still taught in schools, and my mother had a posh boyfriend when she was a teenager and he used to tell her what was correct English. Whether this was patronising mansplaining or not, I don't know - he was long gone before I arrived on the scene - but she passed nuggets of information down to me.

So there it is - a bit picky. Things that don't actually have me hurling books at the wall or yelling at the radio, but still provoke a deep, long suffering sigh. 

Things that provoke the sighing? Comprising of. You don't need the of - it is just comprising. It is alarming how often you find this mistake in books and articles. OK - the writer may not know, but the editor, whose job it is to manage the words, should surely pick it up? Another  of that gets me sighing is bored of. It's bored with, people. I suspect I'm on a loosing battle there as the former seems to be becoming accepted use. 

I still recite  - different from, similar to - on occasion. I think that was one of the ones that came from the boyfriend.

Popular sayings also get on my nerves. Often connected to people in politics - I wonder why that might be. Pet hates at the moment? At pace. What's wrong with fast, quickly, rapidly, as soon as possible? Another one - watching on - to me it doesn't even make sense! The on is redundant. 

A lot of the problems come from those pesky little prepositions. The things you're not supposed to end a sentence with. Tiny, but full of pitfalls. 

That's my moan for this week. As I said, I am not perfect. I have trouble with lose and loose and lie and lay but I do know that I have to look them up, which helps. 

The world is not going to end because of a preposition, but I will still be the one sighing heavily in the corner when one gets misplaced. 

So - what else did you do in London?

 The prime purpose of my visit to London was the flower show - subject of last week's blog, and to see old friends. But it wasn't just that - I was there for a week. I had a fabulous, if expensive, time. London, particularly eating out, has got very pricey. My credit card chickens are now coming home to roost! It was worth it though. 

So - what did I do? Well, there was a coffee morning at the Society of Authors - a chance to see the office, meet officials of what is effectively my trade union,  chat and laugh with other authors from all sorts of genres and eat some delicious pastries.  It was a interesting morning. I followed it up with a trip on the bus to Battersea Power station - my 'mastery' of the London bus system is one of my recent achievements. When I lived there I was strictly a tube girl. The old power station is a cavernous space, with a mix of chain shops and specialised stores, lots of eating places and a very nice bookshop. I enjoyed some retail therapy and dinner. Thursday I did the environs of Oxford Street, seeing a friend, with a lecture in the evening on Tarot cards, with wine, at Occult bookshop Treadwells. The speaker - Melissa Mercury - was informed and entertaining on the use of the cards in books and films. Another enjoyable evening. 

Friday I found my way down to Dulwich, to the picture gallery  and an exhibit of the paintings of Tirzah Garwood. She was the wife, then young widow, of the war artist Eric Ravilious. Like many artistic wives she was an artist in her own right and the exhibition was impressive. I have art tutor Stephen Parker to thank for that day out, as he introduced me to her work as part of his Cardiff university class on art and gardens.  Saturday was lunch with friends and a concert at St Martin's in the Fields. it was Mozart's Requiem - which for some reason always sparks creative ideas. I bet I was the only member of the audience sending a Bentley over a cliff. Writers are funny like that - well this one is. I do hope I get round to writing the book that goes with it. 

Sunday I ambled around Covent Garden with a free afternoon concert at St Martin's, celebrating world football day. I had no idea that was a thing, but we heard some fine singing of various soccer anthems.

And then it was time to come home. As I have said, I really enjoyed it.  Will I do it again? I really don't know. But I have some good memories and maybe the opening of a new book. We will all have to wait and see.

This year's Chelsea

 Regular readers will know my weakness for gardens. So a trip to the Chelsea Flower Show is high on my list of desirable things to do. I treated myself to an expensive all day ticket for the first Members' day - the one after the royals and the celebs go - and this year I was there before nine a.m. I didn't make it so early last year as the RNA Awards ceremony was the night before! This year there was no book and no short listing, so I was able to give the flowers my full attention. Even at that time in the morning the place was crowded and the show gardens were five or six deep in spectators. I had a hit list though, so was able to find my way to the things I wanted to see and view them reasonably well. I had a good time. It was a glorious day and I managed to get around with numerous stops to sit for a few minutes and rest my hip problem. And of course, I took pictures. My favourite garden was from Jewellers Boodles, inspired by their Raindance diamond collection. I liked the diamonds too, but they are way out of my price range! I liked the garden because it was so pretty, with pastel planting that I hope to eventually use for inspiration in mine. The design won a gold medal, but I didn't see it featured in any of the TV broadcasts, but perhaps I missed it. The TV I saw seemed to be more interested in displays featuring rust and weeds - but everyone to their own taste. I go for the plants. I can grow my own weeds, thanks. 

Detail of the planting from the garden -
I took it to remind me what I want to emulate. 

Roses were high on my list of things I wanted to see.
I picked the brains of the stall holders in the Pavilion over what would do well in pots. 

Clematis. Triumph of hope over experience as I have never managed to keep one alive.
I am going to have another go. Wish me luck. 

Lilies. I bought bulbs - I think they are the same ones as last year. I will find out, as last years have come up. For once the slugs didn't get them. 

Climbers. I bought myself a plumbago - the blue one in the middle, as I had never seen one before. It made it home with me and has new flowers, so I have my fingers crossed. 

Peonies. At some stage I have to have one of these beauties, although I have heard they are not easy to grow.

Peonies. At some stage I have to have one of these beauties,
although I have heard they are not easy to grow. 

I've been there.

 At this time of the year publishers are promoting books that feature holiday destinations . It seems that we like to take books like that on holiday with us. Or maybe, if the bank balance is looking a bit thin, enjoy a bit of vicarious travel, or do a little gentle research to places we would like to visit or to revisit places we have enjoyed. My Riviera books come into that category - currently £2.99 for a three box set on Amazon. Writer friends Eva Glyn and Jan Baynham have new books, both set in glorious Greek locations, due out in the next few week. I'm currently reading Murder in Tuscany by T A Williams, which is cosy crime and holiday vibes.  

Holiday books to read in the sunshine, or in the rain, are fine, but I have recently been reading two thrillers that lean into their city location - Harlen Coben's Nobody's Fool and (a re-read) Robert Goddard's Beyond Recall - one set in New York and the other in various UK locations but particularly London for a key scene. In the case of the Harlen Coben the front end paper is actually a photo of New York. Both cities can of course be holiday destinations, but there is a very different feel. Having read them back to back I was struck by how both authors use the details of the city to add colour to the story. I assume you can drive the routes that Sami takes through New York (I've never driven in New York and am never going to in this lifetime) and see the buildings - although the Locke Horne building which is mentioned does not actually exist, outside the author's books.

I was especially interested in that scene from the Goddard. It takes place at Baker Street tube station where two characters 'meet' on separate platforms, one the up line and the other the down, and converse across the track. I've always wanted to write a 'London' book - still on the bucket list - and I can remember standing on that tube platform and envisaging exactly the same sort of scene. I can't recall now whether this was before or after reading Beyond Recall - I think it was before, but I can't do it now, as it would look like plagiarism. It's a striking scene that resonates if you happen to know Baker Street station well, which I do, and it certainly adds texture to the book. 

Now I have to find another location I can use - if the London book ever gets off the bucket list.  

Where have you been?

 I began this blog in 2011, when I had just won a publishing contract for Never Coming Home. Since then I have blogged every week, without fail, whatever was happening in my life - my publishing life or my life as a human being - and there have been many ups and downs, highs and lows over the years. In all that time, whatever the situation, I managed to show up. Until the beginning of April this year, when my wi-fi connection - and my land line phone - disappeared, and stayed gone until this week. I managed to hold on to my e-mails (just) via my mobile phone and a few trips to the library, but I could not get into the blog or my social media, and didn't want to risk losing it all by a ham fisted effort that shut me out for good. So - no posts. 

We were told that the problem was in the telegraph pole and that a new one was needed. It was promised on 1st May. Not sure if that was meant to be a joke - Maypole? Anyway, it didn't happen and then a few days ago there was suddenly an announcement that connection had been restored, without having to have a new pole at all. 

I'm glad to be back, but very annoyed that my record for the blog has been broken and that I have missed a lot of news from friends and colleague who probably thought I was ghosting them! I am now working hard to catch up.

In the hiatus the kitchen is finished, bar some painting, and I am now laboriously cleaning brick dust off everything. I went to Aberystwyth and had a great time at Crime Cymru. I am working to get the house back in some sort of order - slow but steady. And provided my internet does not disappear again, I will be blogging every Wednesday, as usual. 

Chaos 3 - or when did you last see the frying pan?

 New kitchen update. It's getting better! Not complete, but all the major stuff is done and I am very pleased. Eventually there may even be pictures! 

I was on my own for the first time in ages yesterday - actually that is not quite true, as the builders were around for half an hour and a tea break, collecting debris to transport to the skip. I am awaiting the electrician - lights - and the painter and decorator - for the bits that are not tiled. But we are getting there. 

Now it is a matter of cleaning - much of the ground floor of the house is covered with a fine layer of dust.  And I need to figure out what goes in which cupboard as I now have a lot more of them. And I have to find things. The contents of the kitchen is also spread over the ground floor of the house, hence the comment about the frying pan. The muddle is major, but it will eventually be conquered. I just have to stick at it. Wish me luck.   

Still Chaos

 Well, I still don't have a working kitchen, but the damp problem has been attended to and I am in hope of having a functioning sink this week. But don't say anything about the washing machine, please. Doing all the washing up in the upstairs bathroom is getting very wearing, the house is cold - all those open doors and trying to concentrate on anything is hard, with so much happening. Not sure why having work done in one room seems to spread all over the house - and the dust...

Once it is finished then I'll have to clean it - but that is a joy for another day. 

Normal service next week - fingers crossed. 

Chaos

 When you live in a house that is well on its way to its second century things need doing from time to time. Currently it is the kitchen, work which involved removing the units to see what was going on behind them. As a result I have not had a functioning kitchen since last Tuesday! All will be well - eventually - but in the meantime it's a bit chaotic here. Hence the short and rather distracted post. 

Hope that normal service will be resumed without too much delay. 

Motive

 One of the threads that crime writers are very involved with is motive. Why does the villain do that? What is the reason behind the crime? We need to know. I've been told that in the real world of crime fighting not so much. Other evidence is found to be more useful.  Certainly writers and readers need to know about it. Successful books are often lauded for the memorable characters and maybe motive fits with this.

As a writer who combines two genres I read both crime and romance. I tend towards what is known as the 'cosy' end of the crime spectrum - the Agatha Christie type puzzle. Cosies are essentially domestic and so are the motives - love, hate, envy, revenge, greed - most of the seven deadly sins.  Occasionally there is a plot involving spies and state secrets - I'm thinking of Sherlock Holmes, called in when some top secret plans go missing and saving the day - but these tend to be historical settings, where the venue is often the country house party for the plans to be discussed in a meeting arranged out of the spot light. So - still on a domestic level, possibly with a locked room element added to the mix. Modern spy stories are a different matter and a genre of their own. 

I'm also an occasional reader of the more sweeping thriller - mostly American - the kind of thing written by Harlan Coben. I struck me, having just finished one of these that the motive here is something that does not really occur in a cosy - power. Often a cover up when someone who is seeking it wants to obliterate evidence of some past sin. 

It's something I am going to think about.

Books in different mediums

 

Warning - may be minor spoilers 

Last week I went to see the theatre version of Murder on the Orient Express, which is currently touring. Very good - stylish set, good ensemble acting and an excellent central performance by Michael Maloney as Poiret. I highly recommend it. Having seen it I returned to the original Agatha Christie book to check on things that I thought had been changed. It was an interesting comparison exercise. Fewer suspects- understandable as large casts on stage cost money. A dramatic shooting that ended the first act - an idea lifted, I suspect, from Death on the Nile (which will also be touring later this year).  Differences in the characters. Rachett - the victim - was very different from the book - a flamboyant gangster based on the version played by Jonny Depp in the Ken Branagh film - the Albert Finny version  played by Richard Widmark was nearer to the original.  The biggest change was the central role of Mrs Hubbard. From a typical American widow abroad she has metamorphosed into a glamourous man eater. A great deal of fun, and played with gusto on stage by  Christine Kavanagh appears to have undergone the sea change in the Finney version when Lauren Bacall played the part. There are other small things, but most of what I remembered from the book are there. 

It made me think about the life that a book has outside a book. Film, TV, audio. There are stories of authors being heart broken over changes made - with general advice of 'Take the money and run' being regularly handed out. 

I don't do audio - tends to send me to sleep - but I know lots of people love it. Film in various guises is always interesting. I know I have been one of the indignant mob when a favourite has been mangled.

But we always have the book - the place where it is just you and the author and your imagination. The place where it all begins. 

It's in the cards.

 I have a very long standing fascination with Tarot cards - so it was no real surprise that when the Warburg Institute announced that the opening exhibition for its new  gallery space, following a multi million refurbishment, would be a Tarot exhibition that I organised a quick day trip to London  to take a look. 

It was worth it. Not a large exhibition and with an academic flavour, as one would expect from an organisation that is part of London University, it was a wonderful glimpse into the history of these fascinating cards. Originating as playing cars for a game similar to Bridge, over time they evolved into the devices for divination that we now associate with the pack. The historic cards on display - some dating from Italy in the time of the Renaissance - were worth seeing and I was especially interested too in the small section that dealt with new realisations of the cards, using all sorts of art work, many originatng in the pandemic. The ducal courts of Italy had cards painted by the court painters  -luxurious and beautiful - but the deck that is most recognisable is of course the Ryder Waite Smith deck. Ryder the publisher, Waite the interpreter of the meanings and Pamela Coleman Smith - for may years barely acknowledged - as the creator who did the art work. Unacknowledged like so many women artists in the past, but now getting her proper recognition. I don't like the way the word iconic has become an overused buzz word, but in this case I think it is applicable. If you think of the Tarot this will be the deck that comes to mind.  

The Tarot features in the Work In Very Slow Progress and the exhibition, and the work I am doing for the current evening class on Paganism has crystalised how it will feature in the book. It is a great feeling when you suddenly get an insight of how part of the plot is going to work out. 

One of the best parts of being a writer. 

More legacy

 Last week I was looking at the big life changing inheritance - property. But an inheritance can be a much smaller item - and a whole heap of trouble. 

This one probably veers a bit more to the suspense/crime end of the spectrum. 

Letters and journals - opening a can of worms on family history. A piece of furniture - does it have a secret drawer? Jewelry - what is its history? 

You know what the say - where there's a will there's a wrangle. The possibilities are enthrallingly wide. 

A secret where the inheritee doesn't know what they have. A secret where they do know that there is a secret, but not what it is, and have to find it. A contested will - possibly resulting in a trail of dead bodies? 

Inherited paper opens a whole different scenario. I have debated with fellow writers that it is very difficult to write any kind of dual time story without a paper trail. The different time periods have to be able to communicate somehow and letters and journals are the easiest way. In time slip a piece of art - a painting or an object - might be a key. Dual times that revolve around family are essentially domestic - concealed  births and unknown families are favourites. DNA investigations are suggesting possible new routes to family mysteries, but I don't think we will ever tire of the good old lost diary. 

I haven't found the deeds to the castle in my decluttering but I haven't any diaries or lost jewels either. You probably need a much bigger scenario than the average family - most of us know where all this stuff came from. There are family stories and legends to accompany items that are passed down. Family secrets can be a bit different. I know of a few in my own family that might make the start of a book, if I ever wanted to write it. I don't think so - I'd rather use my imagination. Let the past keep its privacy. 

But you can't beat a good legacy for kicking off a plot. 

the legacy story

 Continuing the campaign to declutter the house, I am ploughing through shelves, drawers, cupboards. A lot of stuff is mine, but there is also a lot that has been inherited - my mother's wedding china, a Georgian rummer that was my grandfather's, tools that belonged to my dad, books, small items of jewelry, ornaments. 

It occurred to me while sorting all this stuff that many readers enjoy a 'legacy' story. I do myself - reading them and writing them. And they come in a wide variety from a basic premise. An inheritance. 

The big ticket item is obviously property. Although most of us know that there is no way that a mysterious unknown uncle is suddenly going to leave us a mansion, and that the odds of it actually happening IRL to anyone else are probably pretty steep, it is still an attractive day dream 

What if ...

I was thinking of the possibilities.

The inheritance that is not a mystery - a protagonist who knows they will inherit. This usually involves  keeping up a family home or business, with a lot of themes of responsibility and duty. A protagonist torn between expectation and following their own dreams?

That unexpected inheritance. All sorts of mysteries here, across the spectrum from romance to crime.  Finding out about the person who made the will, finding out about the property itself - it can be a cottage or a stately home, an historic mansion or  the modern equivalent of Sleeping Beauty's castle. A Gothic ruin ...

Lots of fun here. the life changing effect on the protagonist being only the start of the story. They have to decide to live there, or at the very least to visit. No fun if the place is put straight on the market, sight unseen. Often it comes when the hero/heroine is at a cross roads in their life. Decisions, decisions.  It perhaps means learning new skills like estate management (thinking historical here - usually involving an unexpected title as well). As with the expected inheritance it also can carry previously unknown responsibilities. It might involve a location the protagonist has never experienced before - lots of 'fish out of water' potential.

Then there is the mystery of the mystery 'Why me?' 

It's not surprising that it is a popular plot device. 

And no - I haven't found the deeds to a castle in the highlands amongst my grandmother's collection of Victorian novels. 

Not yet, anyway.

The story behind the story.

 Backstory. 

Every book has one. 

Sometimes they are more visible than others. Writers are warned against the 'info dump'  - leaving a pile of  background information lying in a heap at the beginning of a novel. Information should be released slowly and carefully, threaded through the narrative like a string of jewels. Hah! I'm getting poetic! 

Basically, let the information out slowly. 

Except when you don't let it out at all. 

Sometimes the backstory is something the author needs to know, but it doesn't have to be revealed to the reader - or only in the most subtle way. It helps the writer, but it's not part of the story they are currently telling.

I had one in A Villa in Portofino. Megan inherits property from her great aunt who disappeared from the family records after the war. A little of the story of how this came about appears in the novel, but not the whole thing. I know exactly how it came about, and how she met and fell in love with an Italian Prisoner of War and then eloped with him. I've told myself I might write that love affair as a short story one day. Maybe. The idea came from a tiny detail about POWs that I found in the Council records when I was researching the PhD. 

And it seems to be happening again for the WIP. I'm not sure yet but as part of my research I'm delving into the history of Tarot cards, by way of an evening course at the university. The origin of the cards, and the beautiful hand painted ones that were produced by artists for ducal courts in 15th century Italy has attached itself to an idea that I was already working with for the book. 

It's not fully formed yet. but I have that faint tingling up the spine that happens when I know something is organising itself in my head. Will it be part of the book? In an overt form, I don't think so. But it is giving shape to something that was already there.

It's a buzz that comes from the creative process. It's one of the reasons that I write. 

 

The paper mountain

 There are times in the life of every author when 'Life' gets in the way of the writing. I'm having one at the moment, which is why the WIP isn't. It will be back on track, but not at the moment. My current bout of Life is self inflicted. I am trying to declutter the house in a major way. I'm also having a variety of building work done, but that is another story.  The decluttering is proceeding at a slow and stately pace - and I have to say that much of it involves paper. The house is groaning with it. I am clearly a paper dragon, collecting it and sitting proudly on top of my hoard. 

Well, it has to go. 

Bills, bank papers, a connoisseur's collection of rejection letters - all now ceremonially shredded - the floors have a light covering of confetti style paper slivers. On the basis on what I am turning out the year 2016 clearly went on for at least 36 months. I am attempting to do it in a measured way, hence the stately progress, but I do feel that I am winning. One of the most interesting little clumps was my ideas folder, a hefty zebra affair which had expanded to fill a large wicker shopping bag. Outlines for books of which I have no recollection, fragments from books that sadly will probably never be written, press cuttings that might be useful, notes of talks. It was an entertaining evening going through them. I have weeded, not decimated, and I will be looking at them again in due course (what a lovely bureaucratic phrase) to see what gems there might be lurking. Talking of gems, there were some delightful surprises - no less that six new or nearly new notebooks!!!!   

As I said, I am winning, although I have just remembered the tin truck upstairs that has all my notes and drafts for the PhD in it. That will be a few afternoons worth of work. 

And probably no pretty notebooks.

Unusual research

 I'm an academic at heart. Which is why I gravitate to taking courses when I want to research something- or maybe just for fun. Alright, yes, I am a nerd. 

This term I am doing a course from the Cardiff University Lifelong Learning programme - evening classes to you and me. It is Neo Paganism, taught by one of my favourite tutors - folklore expert Dr Juliette Wood. She gave an entertaining talk last week as part of the University's regular monthly public zoom lecture series - not part of this course - on vampires. The history from classical times was traced all the way to modern depictions on film and in books. All the famous screen portrayals were mentioned - Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee, Tom Cruise, Robert Pattinson. Questions and discussion at the end went on for nearly half an hour including  whether it was possible for a vampire to be vegetarian. And as vampires are fictitious, why not?  I won't be writing any vampires in the near future - although I have been asked - and I have friends who write them. I have to say Christopher Lee is 'my' Dracula. I still remember the BBC's late night double bills of Hammer Horror on a Saturday evening. I was living in Uxbridge at the time and as many of the outdoor scenes were filmed in nearby Black Park a lot of location spotting went on. 

 But I digress. The ten weeks on Neo Paganism will cover a variety of topics. No vampires, but witches, druids, popular fiction, art, the Tarot cards ... I'm very interested in them, as they are playing a part in the book I hope eventually will emerge. The object of the course, as I understand it, is to trace how these occult topics have become a part of current popular culture. 

I'm looking forward to it and I'll keep you posted on what I learn. 

Wales romance day.

 Extra special post for 25th January. 

Forget St Valentine - today is St Dwynwen's Day! 

Dydd Santes Dwynwen Hapus

Using all the senses.

 Writers are reminded frequently to use all the senses, so that the reader gets a rounded experience. But applying it to viewing art is a new idea, 

Last week I made my first foray into the wide world of this year - all the way to Birmingham with a friend - to a small but fascinating exhibition at the Barber Institute. It was Pre-Raphaelite paintings, for which Birmingham is well known, but this time the exhibits had been curated with attention to what the pictures might smell like. I told  you it was a new idea. On a sunny morning we explored the university campus, where the Institute is located, with special attention to coffee shops and places to eat, and then the exhibition.

Not only had an effort been made to select paintings that suggested scent - flowers and incense in particular - but three fragrance had been created to accompany the exhibition - two for The Blind Girl, by Millais - two beggar girls, sitting in a field, with a rainbow overhead - and one for A Saint of the Eastern Church, by Simeon Solomon - a young acolyte holding a flower sprig and an incense burner. The theory behind the display was the Victorian interest in scent and smell - in particular the idea that miasma or bad air was responsible for such diseases as Cholera. It was pointed out that Victorian Britain was probably a much smellier place than it is now.  

Did the idea work? Not sure. I can't say that the scents for the Millais did much for me - no real suggestion of rain washed meadows, and the second one, meant to be the smell of the girl's shawl, would have been better depicted, for me, by the odour of wet wool!   I got more from the incense of the second canvas. 

I will say it was worth the visit. I got to see two paintings by Waterhouse  - my favourite Pre Raph - that I had not seen before. The theory of the exhibition was interesting and not something I had encountered previously. It was a reminder to look at paintings in more detail - to examine the setting and potential scents of flowers and other depictions in the painting, and also a reminder that authors should use the five senses when writing.

All in all an excellent day out.  

Titles - things aren't what they used to be?

 Have you noticed - or is it just me, that book titles are not quite so poetic, literary, romantic - in the fullest sense of the word, as they used to be? I'm thinking of some of Mary Stewart's -  Nine Coaches Waiting, This Rough Magic both from plays, Jane Aitkin Hodge's Watch the Wall my Darling - from a poem, a number of Agatha Christies from Shakespeare - By the Pricking of My Thumbs, Taken at the Flood . Shakespeare and the Bible are very popular in the past, but would we use them now? They sound fabulous, and to me enticing - but do they tell us what the book is about, except in a general way?

In the days of key words and algorithms it seems genre titles have become blunter. As the saying goes - the book's contents  is what it says on the tin.  The title tells the reader the protagonist - Daughter, Mother, Sister, Girl. The location - library, bookshop, bakery - often with the name of a (made up) place which  tells you whether it is English country village or small town America. A time - usually Christmas or summer. It can be a quote, but not from a poem but from a character in the book -   a threat or a promise to tell, of retribution, in the 'I know X about you' vein.. 'Murder' and 'death' are popular in crime. If you are writing Regency a duke is obligatory, made up, of course are there are not enough real ones to go round. One word titles - or two word with the addition of 'The' are striking.

 You see what I mean? Have a look. and a think, next time you are in the book aisle of the supermarket.  It doesn't apply universally - but I think it is noticeable - and it certainly gives the reader a clear idea of what they might be reading, and if they will like it. 

Also - do we read plays, poems, Shakespeare, the Bible as much as we did - are we less likely to recognise a classic quote? 

A simple title has it's virtues. 

Well, what about it 2025?

 New year - a time for the start of wonderful things? 

At this time of year I actually feel drawn to the idea of being a bear - an excuse to eat a lot, and sleep, also a lot. Despite the passing of the solstice it is still dark ... and cold. Humans are expected to greet the new year with gusto - resolutions, life plans, new leaves  to be turned over - all that stuff. When the new year comes in, my mind always turns to the Gate of the Year poem by Minnie Louise Haskins which talks about walking into the unknown. It was used in the King's Christmas broadcast in 1939, the first Christmas of the Second World War, and created quite a stir. My grandmother had a text - I think published by a newspaper - in a frame. My mother would recite it to herself when she had to go out in the dark of the blackout to go to work and when she got married asked my grandmother if she could have it. I grew up with it and read it at her funeral - didn't really read it as I also knew it by heart. It was also apparently read at the funeral of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother. All this is very sombre - but a new year is a step into the unknown. 

What is on the horizon? A few things I know will be different - neither the Romantic Novelists' nor the Crime Writers' Association  are having conferences this year, but other events are springing up, taking their place.  I don't currently have a book in production - although I hope that will change by the end of the year. I am having a lot of work done on the the house to keep it and me from falling over, which is exciting and nerve racking, as these things are. Also expensive! 

So - no resolutions as experience has shown that you never know what is before you. Hopes and plans, yes. 

If you have made resolutions I wish you every success. if not, then we will muddle through together and enjoy the months as they pass. 

Happy New Year.