And so the edit for my second novel, called Cold Cruel Winter, seems to be over. At least, it’s gone back to the editor, although there might still be a few minor points to discuss.
Am I happier with it? Well, happier than with my first, given that I approached the book with more knowledge of my shortcomings and attempted to correct them. The proof, however, will be in the pudding, which is what readers and reviews think when it appears in May. But I do believe it’s a 100 per cent improvement on the first novel.
The map of Leeds has been drawn by a very talented artist and looks very good indeed. Given that the book revolves around the streets and landmarks of the city, I think a map helps place and ground it for those who don’t know the place, and aids them in finding their bearings. I want the Leeds of 1732 to live for people reading it.
Finishing that edit, saving the file and sending it back is a little like seeing a child leave home – or at least going to school. There will still be the proofs to read through, of course, but the real work is all done.
And meanwhile I’m more than halfway through the third book in the series ( currently known as The Constant Lovers), which is a bit of a surprise. The Broken Token - the first novel - feels like the work of someone else now, in many ways. The characters of Richard Nottingham and John Sedgwick have grown, but I’ve grown even more. This playing God thing is quite fun, as long as I don’t let it get out of hand.
Saturday 27 November 2010
Thursday 25 November 2010
Student Demos
So the Metropolitan Police Commissioner is predicting “more disorder on our Streets.” (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-11839386). He makes it seem like a shocking surprise that, in the wake of all the cuts the coalition government plans to make, people would be up in arms and vocal about it.
What perhaps took him aback is that in the demonstration yesterday in London there were plenty of school aged kids. Good for them. This rise in tuition fees and the dismantling of the allowance that’s designed to help keep them in school directly affects their future. They need to be angry about it. A lot more of them need to be furious about it.
What was really worrying about the police actions at this demonstration is that they made it seem as if the protestors were being punished for exercising what is a perfectly legal right – to demonstrate. They even had permission to rally outside Downing Street, permission later revoked.
Yes, a police van was vandalised, but why, exactly, did the police leave it in with the demonstrators. It offered the perfect provocation and allowed them to turn the demonstration into what the Commissioner called “a crime scene.” So they could keep the demonstrators there in the cold until late. There may have been water and Portaloos or not – tales vary – but TV footage shows wielding of batons with great glee in some cases, and there’s footage of a policeman kicking a 15 year old girl.
The vast majority of police around the country do wonderful work in extremely trying circumstances, and they deserve to be praised, not to have their jobs cut. But there’s an element in the force, the Tactical Support Group, that’s always pulled out for these events. You might remember some of them with their numbers covered up at the G20 demos. It was one of their number who pushed Ian Tomlinson, the newspaper seller who died afterwards. Their reputation is for being the hard men who can handle this stuff, namely kettling kids and preventing their legal right to demonstrate peacefully, something that most of them were doing.
Gold Command, which gave the orders yesterday and on all demos, is either too blind to see that their heavy-handed tactics will radicalise many more people, or they don’t care, feeling a situation like China is far preferable. Maybe it’s time to break up the TSG, and, more than that, hold the heads of these organisations to account for the actions of the staff. Given their cavalier attitude it’s hardly any surprise that more disorder is to be expected.
More than that, how many of these perfectly legitimate demonstrators will end up on databases of "domestic extremists" that are being kept by secret police units (http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/libertycentral/2009/oct/25/doth-i-protest-too-much)? They will have been photographed and identified. Of course, the police say anyone who finds themselves on a database "should not worry at all". Of course not. Big Brother is definitely watching, with the approval of al the major parties.
What perhaps took him aback is that in the demonstration yesterday in London there were plenty of school aged kids. Good for them. This rise in tuition fees and the dismantling of the allowance that’s designed to help keep them in school directly affects their future. They need to be angry about it. A lot more of them need to be furious about it.
What was really worrying about the police actions at this demonstration is that they made it seem as if the protestors were being punished for exercising what is a perfectly legal right – to demonstrate. They even had permission to rally outside Downing Street, permission later revoked.
Yes, a police van was vandalised, but why, exactly, did the police leave it in with the demonstrators. It offered the perfect provocation and allowed them to turn the demonstration into what the Commissioner called “a crime scene.” So they could keep the demonstrators there in the cold until late. There may have been water and Portaloos or not – tales vary – but TV footage shows wielding of batons with great glee in some cases, and there’s footage of a policeman kicking a 15 year old girl.
The vast majority of police around the country do wonderful work in extremely trying circumstances, and they deserve to be praised, not to have their jobs cut. But there’s an element in the force, the Tactical Support Group, that’s always pulled out for these events. You might remember some of them with their numbers covered up at the G20 demos. It was one of their number who pushed Ian Tomlinson, the newspaper seller who died afterwards. Their reputation is for being the hard men who can handle this stuff, namely kettling kids and preventing their legal right to demonstrate peacefully, something that most of them were doing.
Gold Command, which gave the orders yesterday and on all demos, is either too blind to see that their heavy-handed tactics will radicalise many more people, or they don’t care, feeling a situation like China is far preferable. Maybe it’s time to break up the TSG, and, more than that, hold the heads of these organisations to account for the actions of the staff. Given their cavalier attitude it’s hardly any surprise that more disorder is to be expected.
More than that, how many of these perfectly legitimate demonstrators will end up on databases of "domestic extremists" that are being kept by secret police units (http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/libertycentral/2009/oct/25/doth-i-protest-too-much)? They will have been photographed and identified. Of course, the police say anyone who finds themselves on a database "should not worry at all". Of course not. Big Brother is definitely watching, with the approval of al the major parties.
Sunday 21 November 2010
Book Signings
The last two Saturdays have seen me doing booking signings, one at Waterstone’s in Derby, the other at the Nottingham branch. Now, as I’m not an established author, people aren’t queuing up to buy copies of The Broken Token with my autograph in it. I have to convince them it’s worth their time, and, above all, their money. Being part of the general 3 for 2 on fiction helps; people will take a chance on that.
What it really means, however, is that I’ve become a salesman. Granted, the product is one in which I believe, but it’s still talking to people, engaging them, and convincing them that this book will enrich their lives (it will, trust me). I’ve discovered that having a couple of copies in my hand, hanging around the crime section and starting out by asking “Are you looking for a good crime novel?” makes for a fair opening. Being showered and having clean teeth and clothes and well deodorised is a plus, too.
Plenty of people are happy to talk, although there are always a few timid rabbits. Leave them be. Engage people. I start by asking what authors they like, and talk about those, recommend some others who are very good. Then people will ask about my book, and I tell some. A fair few will actually end up buying a copy – maybe 50 per cent of those I have good conversations with. And along the way I end up meeting some interesting people and learning fascinating titbits – for instance, Sarah is the Jewish spelling of the name, but Sara is Persian.
It’s tiring (I’ve learned to take along a bottle of water for the voice) but also strangely energising. It’s a bit of a buzz to talk to people, to have them become interested. Best of all, after roving around, to come back to the table and have someone say, “I’ve been waiting for you, I looked at the cover and it seems right up my street, I’d like a copy.” Only one of those so far, but it’s uplifting.
What it really means, however, is that I’ve become a salesman. Granted, the product is one in which I believe, but it’s still talking to people, engaging them, and convincing them that this book will enrich their lives (it will, trust me). I’ve discovered that having a couple of copies in my hand, hanging around the crime section and starting out by asking “Are you looking for a good crime novel?” makes for a fair opening. Being showered and having clean teeth and clothes and well deodorised is a plus, too.
Plenty of people are happy to talk, although there are always a few timid rabbits. Leave them be. Engage people. I start by asking what authors they like, and talk about those, recommend some others who are very good. Then people will ask about my book, and I tell some. A fair few will actually end up buying a copy – maybe 50 per cent of those I have good conversations with. And along the way I end up meeting some interesting people and learning fascinating titbits – for instance, Sarah is the Jewish spelling of the name, but Sara is Persian.
It’s tiring (I’ve learned to take along a bottle of water for the voice) but also strangely energising. It’s a bit of a buzz to talk to people, to have them become interested. Best of all, after roving around, to come back to the table and have someone say, “I’ve been waiting for you, I looked at the cover and it seems right up my street, I’d like a copy.” Only one of those so far, but it’s uplifting.
Friday 12 November 2010
Reflective
As I prepare to head off to Derby tomorrow to sell copies of The Broken Token to an unsuspecting Derbyshire public, I’m feeling mild contentment. Not only did I receive my first royalties on the book today, yesterday I signed and sent off the contracts for the next two books in the series.
Knowing that the publishing future is secure for the next couple of years is a relief, and that someone, somewhere, likes these books and believes in them enough to pay me money to write them is a real vindication. Will they sell in huge amounts? Probably not, but that’s fine. If each one builds a new audience then in time they’ll attract a crowd rather than a gaggle and life will be good.
One thing I have concluded is that writing is a craft, in the same way that designing and constructing fine furniture is. You need to have the idea in your head and the ability to put it together. That’s skill, yes, from some small glimmer of inspiration, and that’s what all writing is.
We learn from everything we do, and writers also learn from all that they write, especially when you have a good editor. I’ve been lucky to have a few, particularly for my music writing, who’ve improved my work tremendously. I have an excellent editor for my novels, and I’m grateful to all of those who’ve worked hard to help. I’m lucky, too, in having a close friend who’s the best writer I know, and who reads my novels and offers suggestions that always improve them (I do the same for him, but whether I improve his work or not, I’m not sure).
Writing is a very solitary occupation. It’s not glamorous; it involves hours of sitting and typing. You live in your head a great deal. But it can prove to be an interesting, occasionally magical, place…
Knowing that the publishing future is secure for the next couple of years is a relief, and that someone, somewhere, likes these books and believes in them enough to pay me money to write them is a real vindication. Will they sell in huge amounts? Probably not, but that’s fine. If each one builds a new audience then in time they’ll attract a crowd rather than a gaggle and life will be good.
One thing I have concluded is that writing is a craft, in the same way that designing and constructing fine furniture is. You need to have the idea in your head and the ability to put it together. That’s skill, yes, from some small glimmer of inspiration, and that’s what all writing is.
We learn from everything we do, and writers also learn from all that they write, especially when you have a good editor. I’ve been lucky to have a few, particularly for my music writing, who’ve improved my work tremendously. I have an excellent editor for my novels, and I’m grateful to all of those who’ve worked hard to help. I’m lucky, too, in having a close friend who’s the best writer I know, and who reads my novels and offers suggestions that always improve them (I do the same for him, but whether I improve his work or not, I’m not sure).
Writing is a very solitary occupation. It’s not glamorous; it involves hours of sitting and typing. You live in your head a great deal. But it can prove to be an interesting, occasionally magical, place…
Friday 5 November 2010
There are so many Swiss Cajun/Zydeco/punk bands around at the moment that it might be the trend of 2010…well, even if that really were the case, Mama Rosin would stand out.
Whatever “it” might be, their third album, Black Robert, has it. Starting with clattering drums and the sound of a pair of Louisiana residents, it takes off through a haze of raw electric guitar, thumping accordion and some storming backbeat laid down by a thumping female drummer. But its spirit is very akin to some of those wonderful early Cajun recordings (they cite Zydeco as part of the mix, and indeed it probably is, although in those early days the difference between the two styles was more one of colour, not music).
But it’s not a studied primitivism. Instead it’s quite inspired, ridiculously vibrant, and at times surprisingly authentic (“Move Your Popo”). Purists who prefer to keep regional styles as a museum piece will hate it, but music needs to be alive and evolving. What they do blends with other things – “Bon Temps Roulet No. 3” is an unholy but gleeful marriage of New Orelans and the Velvet Underground with Amede Ardoin replacing John Cale and “Les Cuisines d’Enfer” is as raw a blues as you’re likely to hear this year. Although they’re just as home with acoustic music as electric – the banjo on “Mariniere” works superbly – energy jolts through the whole album. In a time when punk has effectively become a pejorative its real ideals live on in small bands like this who play the music of their hearts, even if it originates somewhere far from their home. It’s an album that walks up, slaps you in the face and then asks you to dance the two-step.
Albums like this and (in a completely different style and fashion) Krista Detor’s Chocolate Paper Suites are reminders that music is very much alive and still has the power to seduce. One of the best of the year. And in a better world there might well be more Swiss Cajun/Zydeco/punk bands on the street corners.
Whatever “it” might be, their third album, Black Robert, has it. Starting with clattering drums and the sound of a pair of Louisiana residents, it takes off through a haze of raw electric guitar, thumping accordion and some storming backbeat laid down by a thumping female drummer. But its spirit is very akin to some of those wonderful early Cajun recordings (they cite Zydeco as part of the mix, and indeed it probably is, although in those early days the difference between the two styles was more one of colour, not music).
But it’s not a studied primitivism. Instead it’s quite inspired, ridiculously vibrant, and at times surprisingly authentic (“Move Your Popo”). Purists who prefer to keep regional styles as a museum piece will hate it, but music needs to be alive and evolving. What they do blends with other things – “Bon Temps Roulet No. 3” is an unholy but gleeful marriage of New Orelans and the Velvet Underground with Amede Ardoin replacing John Cale and “Les Cuisines d’Enfer” is as raw a blues as you’re likely to hear this year. Although they’re just as home with acoustic music as electric – the banjo on “Mariniere” works superbly – energy jolts through the whole album. In a time when punk has effectively become a pejorative its real ideals live on in small bands like this who play the music of their hearts, even if it originates somewhere far from their home. It’s an album that walks up, slaps you in the face and then asks you to dance the two-step.
Albums like this and (in a completely different style and fashion) Krista Detor’s Chocolate Paper Suites are reminders that music is very much alive and still has the power to seduce. One of the best of the year. And in a better world there might well be more Swiss Cajun/Zydeco/punk bands on the street corners.
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