M/M book wins Orange prize

I was fascinated to read that this year's winner of the Orange Prize for Fiction, 'The Song of Achilles' by Madeline Miller, is a same-sex novel set in the world of Ancient Greece.

From the sounds of it, it's a good old-fashioned m/m erotic romance, so it's all the more surprising that the judges went for something rather controversial. This has to be a good thing, though, in turning the spotlight on same-sex romance and opening it up to the reading public.

For all the cries of originality I can't help feeling that Mary Renault got there first, but even so I've added this to my reading list and will be really fascinated to see how good it is. And watch out for other same-sex novels, hopefully following in Ms Miller's footsteps.

Necessity's Door blog tour - day two

Day two of my mad dash round the ethernet sees me posting at Joyfully Jay, with a piece about how the whole story of Necessity's Door came about from initial head-scratching and ideas to the actual publication.

"The book is called 'Necessity's Door', it's just been published by Riptide Publishers, and I had an absolute blast writing it. A very speedy blast, mind you, since I only discovered the call for submissions ten days before the deadline..."

Join me at Joyfully Jay to read the rest of the post, find out more about the book, and take part in the contest.

There are seven more stops on the tour, by the way, and if you'd like to know where else I'll be appearing just pop over to the events page at the Riptide Publishing website, where there's a complete list.

Live chat coming up

Just a note to say watch out for me at author Beth Wylde's yahoo group on Friday (1st June). Every June she throws her group open to gltb writers and this year I collected a group of fellow authors - myself, Anne Brooke, Sharon Maria Bidwell, Jo Myles, Becky Black and Clare London - to take part. We'll be calling ourselves the British Belles since we're all British and all (ahem) incredibly beautiful, and we'll be chatting about ourselves, our books, and, seeing as it's the Queen's Jubilee weekend, probably the Jubilee celebrations as well.

And on top of that, four of the assorted Belles will be giving away books from their backlist as prizes.

The address for the chat is http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bethwylde/ - please make a note in your diaries and pop in to join in the fun.

Necessity's Door released - blog tour and giveaway day one

Riptide Publishing have officially released 'Necessity's Door' today (woot!) and to mark the launch I'm off on my virtual blog tour.

First stop on the journey is Jody Faltys Words of Wisdom from the Scarf Princess, where you can find a fun little interview with the book's main character Jake. I won't give away the contents but let's just say he wasn't being entirely cooperative when he was interviewed. LOL

You can find me and the interview at Jody's blog. And don't forget, for the duration of the blog tour I'm running a contest/giveaway, with two of my earlier books/stories and some cool swag as prizes. Just read the book, answer the three simple questions you'll find on any of my blog tour posts, send the answers to my (email on each guest post) and you'll be entered into a prize drawing at the end of the tour.

Good luck, and I hope you enjoy the book.

Novel accepted

You might remember a few weeks ago that I'd submitted my Irish paranormal novel Gleams of a Remoter World to a publisher. That publisher was Riptide again (the same people who are releasing Necessity's Door in a day or two) and the great news is that they loved it and have accepted it! They've asked for a few minor changes but nothing I can't handle (I'm busy on some of those right now) and we're hoping for a release date around October/November this year, to coincide with Halloween.

This will only be my second ever novel (the first being Roses in December, which was published yonks ago by Torquere Press), and I've always been rather fond of it. I think I've mentioned that the first seeds were planted during a holiday we had in a remote part of Co Galway about ten years ago. Possibly the novel brings back memories of that holiday or perhaps I just like the ghost story and all the mystery, but whatever it is, I can't wait to see it in print. In a misquote of a rather dreadful tv advert for Disneyworld from a few years ago, "I'm so excited!"

Not long now...

It's less than a week until my new book Necessity's Door is released and the excitement is building. Well, my excitement at any rate. It's been too long since I had a whole book to myself, with just my name on the cover, and I have to admit it feels rather special.

To celebrate the launch I'll be going on a ten-day long virtual blog tour, with guest posts at ten different blogs in various corners of the internet. Each is on a different topic - an interview with the book's main character Jake, for instance, or a fun little 'did you know' about the British police force, and as well as the posts I'll be running a contest for the duration of the tour, with cool prizes!

I'll pop on here each day to make a note of where I'll be popping up next, or you can go to the main 'master list' for my blog tour at the Riptide website. That way you can follow me about, stalk me, heckle me, and find out a little more about the book (and me!) along the way. I'll see you there.

Drums

We're back in the smoke for a few days, partly to do yet more clearing on the house but mostly to go to a concert with our friends.

And what a concert, because for a complete change we'd booked tickets for Mugenkyo, a group of British taiko drummers. If this sounds improbable, it is - most of the group are from Scotland and look rather as though they've just stumbled out of a pub on a back street in Glasgow at three o'clock in the morning. Looks can be deceiving, though, because they're all fully trained in the Japanese art of taiko; the group's leader Neil Mackie actually studied under a sensei in Japan. And it shows, because they are Good with a capital G.

Dave and I first saw them when we lived in Loughborough, when they played live at a street festival in the town. We'd never heard of them, but were so blown away by the sound that we stood and watched for over an hour. The subtleties and range of sounds the musicians get out of their drums are just incredible - everthing from a faint reverberating hiss to the sort of percussive pandemonium that nearly brings the ceiling down.

Last night was no exception - the rafters of Solihull theatre rang - and the group have added more theatrical style to their repertoire in the intervening years. The end result was loud, spectacular, moving, entertaining, and, er, did I mention loud?

Olympic torch relay blog tour

The Olympic flame reached Britain yesterday evening and set off on its 70 day dash round these islands first thing this morning. During that time it will visit all four home nations (England, N Ireland, Scotland, Wales), calling in at over 1,000 towns, cities and villages as well as some well-known landmarks such as Stonehenge. This morning, rather fittingly, it began its journey at Lands End in Cornwall, which is always supposed to be the most south-westerly bit of mainland Britain, and I'm sure it'll be visiting John O'Groats in north-east Scotland at some point.

And to mark the torch relay, author Charlie Cochrane has organised a special blog tour, with authors posting about places they know, love, or that feature in their books. Each day, the post will feature the particular area the torch is travelling through - be it a county, a city, or even a small village. You can find the offical torch relay blog tour blog right here - and follow the torch's progress around the country day by day.

Today's post from American writer Syd McGinley is all about the beautiful Cornish coast - very appropriate as the torch spends the day zig-zagging through the county towards the city of Plymouth.

Muggins here is due to appear on 1st July with a post about England's second city, Birmingham, which just happens to be the setting for my forthcoming book Necessity's Door. I'll remind you and re-post the link nearer to the time so do keep popping back to check.

And apologies if I seem to be making even less sense than usual. Last night I collided heavily with one of the structural beams in our attic, and although I've got away with nothing worse than a sore head and whiplash, it does seem to have temporarily scrambled my brain...

Hop against homophobia

I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't know today is International Day Against Homophobia. Luckily not everyone is as 'un-switched on' as me, and a large group of authors have come together to support the day with a 'Hop against homophobia'.

You can find a list of participating authors here; each has posted a message on their blog so feel free to trawl the list, pick out your favourites and leave a comment in support.

If I'd known about this sooner I'd have been taking part myself, so the least I can do is give the event some added publicity - and watch the calendar more closely next year.

Synopsis hell

Just how do you squash the setting, characters and plot of an entire, 68,000-word novel into 500 words?

Ask any writer and the chances are they'll tell you writing a synopsis is the single most difficult part of their job. I'm no exception, and tend to sweat blood whenever I have to summarise one of my works. Last time was bad enough, but that was for Necessity's Door which is only around 16,000 words long. This time, it's worse. Much, much worse.

I'm trying, I really am. I bashed away at the keyboard for a couple of hours this morning, stopped, hit the word count button, and found I'd done over 1,000 words. Without even trying. I hacked out as much as I could, stopped, checked again, and found it had crept down to about 800. I kicked the desk, hacked out a bit more, and got it down to 750.

Then I got really cross, and started chipping away at stuff I thought was necessary to explain the plot. After another twenty minutes of that I'd reduced the wretched thing to 588 words, and there I have stuck. I've read and re-read; I've fiddled and re-fiddled; but there's nothing else to come out - not if I want the overall piece to make the slightest bit of sense.

So, 588 it is. D'you think there's any chance that the publishers are too busy to count? :D

Necessity's Door excerpt

The excitement is building as the release date on Necessity's Door creeps ever closer (28th May, in case you'd forgotten).

We've finalised the edits. We've gone through a massive proof-reading excercise and I've accepted the final proof. And today, the publishers have released a nice long juicy excerpt of the story, which is available to read on their website.

So, if you'd like to read a bit and see whether the story, and my writing style, are your sort of thing, just pop over to the Riptide website. Scroll down the page and click on the small black tab marked 'excerpt', in the box at the bottom next to 'warnings' and 'additional details'.

Happy reading - and you'll see from the quote at the top of the excerpt where my title came from!

UK glbtq fiction meet 2012

This year I've finally got myself organised enough to book a place on the annual glbtq fiction meet-up, which is being held in Brighton. I'd wanted to go to the last couple of events but never quite made it - either we had holidays booked that clashed, or I simply forgot to book in time. But this year I'll be heading off to Brighton on Saturday 15th September, in order to meet up with lots of other glbtq authors and readers and hopefully have a thoroughly good time.

Not only that, but I've signed myself up to take part in the 'novel openings' panel, where authors will be reading out the first 150 words of their latest book. So, if you haven't bought or read Necessity's Door and want to find out if it's your cup of tea, now's your chance. Or will be, once September rolls around.

There are still places left for the weekend, so if you're interested in coming along and meeting some of your favourite authors (including, hopefully, me...) please head over to the official Meet-Up website for more details of how to book.

I'll post more details about the exact venue, time etc when September is a little closer to hand.

Walking with ravens

Sunday wasn't supposed to be up to much weather-wise, so we hadn't planned anything special. In the event the sun shone, the wind dropped and there was no sign of the promised rain, or even much in the way of cloud.

On a whim we decided it was too nice to stay indoors, dug out our boots and tackled the little fell at the back of Windermere, School Knott. It's only a tiddler at about 750 feet above sea-level, but the nice thing is there are a number of ways up it so you can vary the route. This time, we approached from the back, having first staggered up to Lickbarrow and then cut across the fields to Old Droomer (wonderful names...). After that we took part of the Dales Way, following a stream and crossing a ford in the direction of School Knott Tarn.

The air was wonderful - fresh yet warm in the sun - and everything smelled clean. Sheep munched the grass practically at our feet, the gorse was out, and when we hit the fell tops we heard the unmistakeable call of a raven. Looking up, we saw four different ravens circling overhead. Given how rare those birds are, it was an amazing and special sight.

The views from the Knott were amazing, too. The previous day's haze had cleared and we could see for miles in an unbroken 360-degree circle, including pretty much all the high ground in the north-west of England. The Conistons, the central fells, the eastern ranges, Shap, the Howgills, the Pennines... It may not be very high, but it's a staggeringly good viewpoint.

And we even made it home in time for a cup of tea and a sticky cake.

Just as well we took advantage of the sunshine, because yesterday was a typical bank holiday washout...

Walking with coffins

I finished the first round of edits last night and sent them back to the publisher; they'll look them over and no doubt send me a 'second round' to get my teeth into but that will take a day or two so today I was actually free. In the meantime, Dave has also been working all the hours God gave, but he'd also reached a natural break in his work, so we decided to take the day off.

This morning we set off for the little village of Grasmere, which we haven't visited since an incredibly wet walk over a year ago. We could just have parked in one of the village car parks and stomped round the shops, but decided to be a bit more enterprising by dumping the car at White Moss and finding part of the old Corpse Road from Ambleside to Grasmere.

This isn't quite as ghoulish as it sounds. In Medieval times Ambleside had no church of its own, which meant no consecrated ground for burials. So every time anyone in the village died, their coffin had to be taken, by horse and cart or more usually by man-power alone, to the nearest church for proper Christian burial. In time, people found the best routes - compromising between distance and gradient - and the corpse or coffin routes were born.

At first we thought we'd taken a wrong turning since the path from the car park headed straight uphill at an alarming degree of steepness. Eventually, though, after much puffing past a waterfall and a gang of men repairing a dry-stone wall, we hit the coffin route proper. Neither of us had ever walked this way before, and discovered a whole new fascinating world, from White Moss Tarn which used to be used for washing wool, to the 'coffin resting stone' by the side of the track, where the men used to pause before the final, steep slope down into Grasmere. Add to that some lovely old farms and cottages, stunning views of the fells, and pretty woodland to boot, and it was a simply beautiful walk. We'll definitely be doing this one, or variations thereof, again.

Oh - and having a coffee sitting outdoors on a riverside terrace in Grasmere, watching the old church, with small birds zizzing this way and that after crumbs, was an added bonus.

And here's a picture of the coffin resting stone, just to prove I'm not making it up!

Can't talk... editing

This is just a tiny note to say that there's a reason I'm not being my usual chatty self, and it's called 'edits'.

The editing process is much harder work than most people realise (heck, it's harder than I realised before I started this writing lark) and fiddly and time-consuming to boot. So when I get a set of edits to work through, I pretty much have to abandon everything else, draw the curtains, ignore any distractions, and plod through them as quickly as I can.

This time, it's taken four whole days - and counting. But it'll be worth it in the end, and I'll be back with you when I can.

Paragraph Planet - reminder

As promised, here's a quick reminder that my tiny story Armed and Dangerous is appearing today at Paragraph Planet.

The story will only be live for one day (although it will appear in the archives at the end of the month) so hurry along now if you don't want to miss it. It's, um, sort of fun!

New paragraph

Watch out at Paragraph Planet on Monday 30th April for my latest 75-word offering, Armed and Dangerous.

This is a tongue-in-cheek little tale about a robbery with unexpected results, told as ever in exactly 75 words.

I'll post a reminder on the day so you don't forget.

The reading pile

The last couple of weeks I've slowly been working my way through the toppling pile of books next to the bed.

I gave up on 'Mr Clive and Mr Page', at least for now. I still can't get my head round what's going on or who's who and when you only have time to read a few pages before you go to sleep, it's even more baffling. The book is exceptionally well written, original and intelligent and I'm hoping to pick it up again eventually, but just at the moment my head hurts too much.

Instead, I read 'The Sense of an Ending' by Julian Barnes, which you might remember I picked up during a special offer at WH Smith a few weeks back. This book won the Man Booker prize of 2011 so I wasn't expecting it to be particularly readable - I've tried Booker-prize-winning books before and they were all rather strange. Added to that I tried Barnes' previous novel 'Arthur and George' and found it too tedious and slow to finish. But this one was very different. It's much shorter for one thing, and the prose bowls along, especially towards the beginning where Barnes is describing the main characters as teenagers. Actually, that was the best part of the book for me - very evocative with real insight into the trials and tribulations of being at school and being slightly different. After that, although the pages kept turning, it did rather descend into internal musing as the main character tried to work out whether he was responsible for a terrible event in his past or not. Overall I'd have preferred a little more action and a little less angst, but I was still pleasantly surprised and would happily read the book again. Not something I could say about one or two other Booker titles!

Busy busy...

I know time flies, but quite what happened to the last ten days is anyone's guess. They flew by so quickly that I'm hardly aware they've gone! To be fair, we've been incredibly busy. We've had people viewing the house (the original deal hasn't quite fallen through yet but the chap is dragging his heels). We've had tedious appointments with dentists, opticians and what-have-you. We've got two different removals firms coming to give us a quote, so we've had to go round putting different coloured labels on all our furniture to make sure we know where it's going.

On top of all that I've had a couple of deadlines with work. I submitted the novel I finished a couple of weeks ago, and am chewing my fingernails while the publishers consider it. I've submitted a couple of short stories to various magazines and contests. And I've also been putting the finishing touches to the blog tour that I'm going on (in a virtual sense!) once Necessity's Door is released by Riptide at the end of May.

Phew! Hopefully by next week I'll have got my breath back, because I'm itching to start rewriting a ghost story/novella that I finished, sort of, but that Needs Work to bring the minor characters to life. Again in a virtual sense - they can hardly come to life if they're ghosts!

Spellchecker hilarity

Over the weekend Dave was catching up on some long overdue admin and one of the things he finally got round to was leaving some glowing feedback for the architect who designed and project-managed our extension for us.

The site where he left the feedback had an online pro-forma to fill in, which rather unusually had its own spellchecker.

Dave was part-way through filling the form in when he suddenly collapsed with a fit of the giggles, which rapidly turned to uncontrollable cackling, which turned to howls of laughter. The reason? The spellchecker had taken offence at the word 'Windermere' in the address line and wanted Dave to change it to...

... Wonderbra.

I seriously think this is the best spellchecker prompt EVER, but if you have any that can trump it please let me know.

Better late than never...

Yesterday was a real red-letter day for me because I finally finished my second-ever novel. Gleams of a Remoter World (based on a quote by the poet Shelley) is a ghost story set on the wild west coast of Ireland, and I first started writing it during a holiday in Co. Galway with Dave. The scenery was stunning and there was a ruined church a short walk down the coast that screamed 'ghost story' at me the minute I saw it. I grabbed some paper and a pen and scribbled some notes before we'd even packed up to go home.

But that was, I'm ashamed to admit, the best part of ten years ago. I don't honestly know why it's taken so long to write. I got part way through, lost the will to live and put it in a box. I took it out again and wrote some more. I got hopelessly bogged down with the love interest and put it back in its box. I changed one of the characters from male to female and wrote some more. I got stuck on one particular scene and put it away again. Finally, earlier this year, I unearthed it, found some inspiration from somewhere and finished the actual writing, but then it still needed editing, rewriting and polishing. The whole process has been not just like pulling teeth, but like pulling my own teeth while still awake. Painful, in a word.

But I've got to the finishing line at last (at very. long. last) and I'm absolutely delighted with the result. It topped out at nearly one-and-a-half times the length I'd thought it might and I like the characters, and the way they develop, and I like the ending. (Which isn't always the case with the things I write.)

Now I'm sitting on it for a few more days, just to be absolutely sure I haven't forgotten anything, and then I'll be sending it off to a publisher. I just hope my ten years of hard work won't be wasted!

Pre-order... and win!

I'm jumping up and down because I now have a cover for my new book Necessity's Door - see left for the fantastic artwork by L.C. Chase.

The book is available to pre-order at Riptide Publishing. Not only that, but if you do pre-order you'll be entered in a prize draw to win free e-books from Riptide for a whole year! Second and third prizes are also available and if you're not lucky enough to win, you'll still receive your pre-ordered copy a whole two days before it's officially launched on 28th May.

Necessity's Door tells the story of Jake, a detective working undercover as a male prostitute to try to trap a local crime boss, who finds himself being sucked into the lifestyle he's forced to lead. Will he get out again with his honour, his virtue and even his life intact?

The book is being published as part of the 'Rentboy' collection and if you pre-order all four titles in the series you get a massive 20% discount.

So go on, what are you waiting for? Oh, yes, a link to the ordering page at Riptide would be a good start. Well, here you go!

Easter break

We've treated ourselves to a few days off from gardening, decorating, and packing ready for the looming house move over Easter. The weather has not been great (cool with grey skies and occasional drizzle) but we've managed to pack a load of stuff into the four days: a couple of local antique fairs, a mooch round Kendal, the Aquarium of the Lakes, and today when it's been hammering down all day, a trip to the Lancaster Maritime Museum.

The latter is quite small, set out over a couple of floors of the Custom House and a neighbouring warehouse, and specialises in displays on local history of a watery nature. How Lancaster developed as a port; the history of the whole Morecambe Bay area; offshore gas drilling from Barrow-in Furness; a mock-up of a fast 'packet' boat that took passengers on the Lancaster canal. There weren't quite enough buttons to press for me (what can I say, I'm just a big kid at heart) but it was informative and fun and a great place to spend a very wet day.

What a difference...

...a week makes. This time last week it was 20c and we were wandering around outdoors in t-shirts and enjoying working in the garden. Today it's blowing a gale, snowing, and only 2 degrees. I'm digging out my winter woollies as I speak.

Oh, the joys of the Great British Weather.

Good walk

Saturday morning was fine, if a little chilly, so we decided to beat the crowds, park up nice and early in Ambleside and have a walk. And it was glorious. The sun shone all the way, the recent haze had cleared to leave stunning views of the fells, and although it stayed chilly it was perfect weather for walking.

We headed up one of our favourite walks - the Scandale path as far as High Sweden Bridge. We'd have liked to go further but we only had a two-hour ticket in the car park which just gave us time to march to the bridge, take some photos and march back down again.

The Scandale path gains height out of the town quite rapidly and there wasn't much sign of spring once we'd got beyond the last straggle of houses. Until we reached the packhorse bridge, looked over the other side, and saw a host not of daffodils but of primroses along the bank of Scandale Beck. Pure magic!

Now we're back in the 'smoke' for a few days and the contrast is not a happy one...

Good crack

No, I'm not talking about Class A drugs, but the concert we went to last night featuring Scottish folk musicians Aly Bain and Phil Cunningham.

It was held at the improbably-named Kendal Box, a brand new venue which looks as weird as it sounds. Even its own web page describes it as looking like a 'wonky box' and as Cunningham commented last night, he'd "never played inside a slate box before". But however strange it might look, as a venue it's great. Small but cosy and very intimate, with space for an audience of only around 300 which gives a great feeling of being right there with the performers. None of these vast Big Screens needed here - you could see everything, hear everything and feel almost as though you were in the local pub with them performing for their beer.

And what a performance! Not only are they both brilliant musicians (Bain on fiddle, Cunningham on accordion), but they're charming and witty too. They divided up the music with chat ('crack' to the Celts, hence the title of my post) with anecdotes, brief information about what they were playing, and some surprisingly hilarious jokes. They played piece after piece with never a hint of a wrong note (or of any sheet music to crib from, for that matter), for a good two hours and their solo pieces brought the house down.

We thoroughly enjoyed the entertainment and will definitely be adding Aly and Phil to the list of acts to watch out for in future. And I'm sure we'll be going back to the Wonky Box.

The reading pile

I'm embarrassed to admit that I currently have seven books in a heap by the side of the bed, plus a couple of ebooks I'm part way through. Every time I finish a book I seem to add another two or three and the pile never really gets any smaller. There are too many interesting books out there, dammit, and not enough time to read!

Currently I'm worrying my way through 'Mr Clive and Mr Page' by Neil Bartlett. When I first started it I thought it was really good, with an intriguing plot linking gay characters throughout the early part of the twentieth century, and some excellent prose writing. But... the more I read, the less I can work out what's going on. It's rather like stumbling around in a bowl of oxtail soup - everything seems cloudy, somehow. I don't even know for certain who the main character/narrator is, and I don't know the full names of the other important characters, and I don't know exactly when the book is set. There are flashbacks after flashbacks, and flashbacks within flashbacks, and an uneasy sense that the events being portrayed never happened at all but are simply in the narrator's imagination. And I'm already around a third of the way through, by which time I should have some idea of who's who and what's what.

I'm hoping everything will become clear by the end because at the moment it's quite simply driving me nuts!

Today... for one day only...

All Romance ebooks are holding a one-day, one-off 50% discount sale on all their 'incentive-eligible' titles (which basically means anything with a little crown logo next to it) today.

This is an incredible offer so if there are any ebooks you've had your eye on but haven't been able to afford, pop along to ARe now before it's too late!

Radge 6 on Kindle

The Byker Books editor has worked fast and Radgepacket Volume 6 is already available on Kindle for only £1.54.

This is incredible value for around twenty stories and great news for anyone on a tight budget (which is probably most of us at the moment).

You can buy the Kindle version (and Byker's other books, including Radgepackets 2 and 4 which also contain stories of mine) at the Byker Kindle store.

Oh - and if you're at all nervous about taking the plunge you could do worse than read this review from Sabotage, which should set your mind at rest.

Your name... for a coffee?

I spotted this article on the BBC website the other day, about the latest ploy from Starbucks.

Apparently the baristas will now be asking every customer's name when they place an order. This is supposed to cut down on confusion over which customer ordered which particular latte, and also to appear more friendly. In America, where the policy originated, it's popular.

But.... Here in Britain we're a much more reserved bunch, and the idea of having to tell some complete stranger my name just to get a cup of coffee sends shivers down my spine. Invasion of privacy, anyone? Not to mention having some sixteen-year-old school-leaver addressing me as 'Fiona' as though they're suddenly my best friend. If any Starbucks staff try it with me I shall have an attack of the Old Fogeys and tell them it's "Mrs Glass".

As much as anything it's the pretence that annoys me. They say they're trying to appear more friendly, but since when was any vast multi-national corporation interested in being my friend? What they're really doing is trying to make money. If they were a bit more honest about that, I might not mind quite so much.

Sunshine!

We drove down to the south coast yesterday to spend the day with my inlaws, neither of whom have been particularly well recently (there are a lot of bugs and viruses about).

It was a really enjoyable day. We took them out for lunch at their favourite Chinese buffet, and afterwards we strolled along the riverside walk next to the River Itchen. Much to our amazement the weather was simply gorgeous. The sun shone brightly all day, and by early afternoon it was really warm - easily the warmest and most spring-like day of the year so far. Daffodils trumpeted from the verges, there were buds bursting on some of the smaller trees, geese honked, swans sailed magestically past, and the river sparkled in the sun.

Today we're back to mist and gloom, but it was lovely to have at least one day of spring at last.

Birthday cakes and birthday suits

Great news - Radgepacket Vol 6 has been released a few days ahead of schedule, which means you can now get your grubby paws on my latest story, Jack in the Box. This is a dark, gritty story of a young man cosying up to the local mob boss to get what he wants, which isn't necessarily what you first think it is.

"The first time I clapped eyes on Frank Turnbull I was jumping naked out of the cake at his fiftieth birthday party."

If you want to see what happens after that rather memorable entrance you'll have to buy the book, but that's no hardship as it's crammed with 'industrial-strength' fiction from authors established and new, and only costs £5.99 from Amazon UK, or $10 from Amazon.com.

Happy reading - but please don't ask me to re-enact the above excerpt. It would not be pretty.

Special offer at WH Smith

For anyone here in the UK, WH Smith currently have a pretty good special offer. If you buy a copy of The Times newspaper for £1, you get a paperback version of Julian Barnes' Booker-prize winning novel The Sense of an Ending for only £2.99.

The last thing I really need is any more books on my tottering 'to be read' pile, but the temptation was too strong and I bought it. I've no idea if the book is any good or not (Booker prize winning books may be very literary and worthy but they can sometimes be jolly hard to read) but at that sort of price it's got to be worth trying.

Karnataka at the Brewery

On Saturday evening we went out to our very first concert in Cumbria since we 'sort of' moved up there a couple of years ago, and a great night out it was too.

The venue was the Brewery Arts Centre in Kendal, a wonderful amalgamation of cinema, theatre, bars, restaurant, cafe and art exhibitions housed in (as you might guess) a former brewery. The outside is stunning - they've even kept the old chimney - and inside is quirky and full of character. All the rooms are called after old bits of the brewing trade; we were in the Malt Room which still had all its old cast iron pillars holding up the ceiling.

The band we saw are called Karnataka and were billed as 'celtic folk rock'. They turned out to be rather more rock than either celtic or folk, although you could hear a folky influence in some of the tracks, as well as a distinct nod towards progressive rock from the late 70s and early 80s. Since Dave and I love both those elements it was right up our street and we thoroughly enjoyed every track they played. Not so every member of the audience. One older, very well-dressed couple were clearly expecting the sort of folk that turns up on Radio Two on Sunday afternoons, and walked out after less than five minutes. It seems daft these days not to do some research on YouTube to see what you'll be getting before you go, not to mention a huge waste of money. And they missed a very entertaining two-hour set.

Radge reminder

Just a quick reminder that the Radgepacket 6 launch party is happening in Newcastle upon Tyne next Saturday, between 12 and 3 pm, at The Back Page sports bookshop.

Unfortunately it looks as though, due to family commitments, I won't be able to attend, but the new book will be on sale, the editor will be there to answer questions, there'll be drinks and nibbles, and a chance to mingle with some of the other contributing authors and get them to sign your copy of the book. On top of all that it's a chance to rummage around in The Back Page, which is the closest thing to Aladdin's Cave you'll see this side of the Arabian Nights. ;)

And I'll stick an announcement on here the minute the book is available to buy online.

Birdy word play

Oh, the joys of spam. Mostly of course it's deadly dull - nothing but invitations to play at this or that online casino, notifications from banks I've never joined, and endless offers 'guaranteed' to increase my, erm, length. (One of these days I really must call their bluff on that, but that's another story.)

But every now and then there's a real gem in my spam box, presumably thanks to online translation software.

Yesterday it was the turn of this: "Luxury turkey escapes"

I wondered why anyone would want to tell me that their top-flight (sorry) pet bird had flown the coop, and had visions of the turkey concerned wandering down the road thumbing a lift to Manchester for the weekend. And then I realised it was advertising Turkish holidays.

Once I'd finished giggling I deleted the post along with all the rest, but it really brightened up my day. To whoever sent the email - thanks for the laugh!

New story accepted by Riptide

It's funny how things work out, isn't it? I'd only just mentioned Riptide Publishing in a post the other day, and then I got the terrific news that they've accepted one of my own stories. And remember my post about meeting that very tight deadline on a call for submissions a week or two ago? Well, it was that very story that they've decided to take.

The story is called Necessity's Door (based on a quote by Daniel Defoe) and tells the tale of Jake, an undercover copper who poses as a rentboy and finds himself getting sucked into the life he's forced to lead. Will he get out with his life, honour and virtue intact or will the temptation be too much for him? Will his partner Mac help, or will it be left to new man in his life Graham to ride to the rescue? Although it sounds like straightforward smut it's actually a little more serious and thought-provoking than that, and was inspired by a sort of 'what if' moment: what if an undercover detective really did find himself in that situation? What if he liked the life, or the benefits it might bring?

You'll be able to find out for yourselves in May, which is when the book is due to appear. It'll be published in both electronic and print formats and to say I'm over the moon about the acceptance and looking forward to the release is the understatement of the month. I'm running round the study screaming!

I'm on Goodreads

The title says it all, really. One of my writer friends first recommended Goodreads a couple of years ago now but it's taken me this long to sit down, register myself with them, get a profile and start collecting books.

I have to say it isn't the easiest social networking site to join. I found the process very unintuitive and it took me a whole hour to realise that the microscopic icon on the top right hand side of my 'books' page was the link to my profile. And I still haven't worked out how to get a blog on there, or link that blog to my own blog here, or even how to review the books I've read and rated. But using any of these sites includes a steep learning curve and I'll keep on fiddling and ferreting until I've cracked it.

What I did want to say was that I haven't yet tracked down many of my fellow-victims, er, I mean members, on the Goodreads network. So if you're a member already and would like to link to me, or even just browse my bookshelves and poke around what I enjoy reading, then hurry along to my profile and feel free to 'friend' me from there.

Dark day on the fells

We were all set to go out for a walk on Saturday but events conspired against us so we went yesterday instead. Inevitably, the weather was less kind (chilly, damp and grey) but at least it wasn't pouring with rain, blowing a gale or covered in ice. Everything is, however, absolutely squelching with mud after all the rain and many of the smaller or higher level paths are so disgusting they're not really safe, so we chose the Coppermines Valley at Coniston which is on good, stony tracks (actually old miners' tracks to the vast network of historic mines and quarries in the area).

It was surprisingly enjoyable. Thanks to bad weather, frequent trips back to Birmingham and various work commitments we've not been out walking since Christmas Day, and even that was a short toddle up Post Knott, hardly one of the highest peaks in the land. It was lovely to get out into the fresh air, get the old legs moving again and see some scenery close-hand rather than through the windows of the car. And what scenery! Coppermines is a classic hanging valley, almost flat once you heave yourself up the steep slope out of the village and over the lip, and it positively bristles with evidence of its ancient mining past. To some people this would be dark, dreary and depressing but we love it. It's so full of atmosphere you can almost hear the miners, the pit ponies, the old rail trucks clanking down the slopes filled with ore... and the whole place has a wildness and remoteness about it that's extraordinary considering it's only a mile or so from the centre of the village.

Here's a couple of photos I took, with the mist down over the fell tops and drizzle blowing in the breeze, to show you what I mean. Pretty it ain't. Stunning, yes.

Door to nowhere

We have a brand new door on our landing... but it doesn't go to a room, or a corridor, or even a set of stairs.

This doesn't mean we've discovered a hole in the space/time continuum, or a new way into Narnia, or even a portal to another universe. What it does mean is that we've been moving furniture in my study again.

I think I've mentioned that my study (really more of a box room) is very small and an awkward shape. Recently I treated myself to a new desk, to replace the rag-tag of hand-me-downs I'd been managing on, none of which really fitted the space. The new desk is a proper full-height adult one with drawers to give me better storage and fits into my 'writing corner' beautifully. The only slight drawback is that my large bookcase won't fit in next to it any more.

No problem, I thought. There's an odd little entry-way to the room and the bookcase should fit in there. The only problem with that was that there was a door in the way - the door to the room. So Dave got busy with a screwdriver the other night and took that off its hinges, and moved the bookcase into the space where the door had been.

The bookcase is fine. It looks a little odd, but then this house is full of quirks and kinks and corners so it fits right in. The only problem now is... what to do with a full-sized door. Dave left it leaning against the banisters on the landing, where it looks thoroughly surreal and where I can trip over it ever time I leave the bedroom. Hopefully, we can find somewhere else to store it before long. Until then, I'm very tempted to try opening it, and see if there's anything unexpected on the other side...

I've won a book!

Rather to my surprise, actually, since I almost-to-never win anything, and I had no idea I was taking part in a contest!

It turns out the contest was being run by fellow author Anne Brooke to promote her latest book launch at Riptide, a new(ish) publisher specialising in gay fiction. I commented on one of Anne's blog posts to congratulate her on the new release and hey presto! the very next day she told me I'd won the contest and could choose any book from her impressive back list.

The one I've selected is called The Bones of Summer and is a gay mystery thriller involving missing persons, amnesia and a disastrous past love affair. Oooh-er. It sounds right up my street and I'm very much looking forward to reading it.

How many endings?

I caught part of an interview on BBC Breakfast this morning with author Caroline Smailes, who has apparently written her latest novel with no fewer than eleven different endings which the reader can choose between. Apparently she did this after readers complained the endings of her last two novels were 'too gloomy'.

I missed hearing how the technology is supposed to work but this article in The Daily Telegraph has more detail. It seems that the book will be published electronically and the readers will have to answer questions and depending on the answers the software will select an ending for them. This sounds a little too much like those quizzes that turn up on people's blogs from time to time, where you answer a bunch of random questions to find out which chocolate centre you resemble or what sort of an elf you are.

It's an intriguing idea and one that explores the possibilities of new digital technology, but I don't think it's for me. Not as a writer, and certainly not as a reader. When I read a book I'm not aware of turning the pages, I'm not aware that it is a book. Instead I slip inside the world the author has created and become a part of it, only to surface again when I turn the final page. If I have to stop and answer questions about my mood or my favourite colour it will pull me right out of the story, which surely defeats the object of the book.

And as a writer, it would simply drive me wild. The BBC also interviewed author Josephine Cox at the same time and she explained that her characters 'write' her books and that they themselves choose their own, natural, ending depending on the events they've been through. This is very much the way I write and I'm not sure a book would feel properly finished unless I'd written the last sentence and drawn a (metaphorical) line under it.

I suspect that like most new technologies it will become something of a fad for a while, but would you really want to have to do this for every book you read? Wouldn't you rather the book's author had already done the hard work for you?

Stars (of both varieties)

We've just arrived home after a long weekend away in London attending the annual 'AstroFest' conference. Dave started his lifetime ambition of a degree in astronomy last year and managed to bag one set of free tickets for the event, so we bought ourselves another set and indulged in a two-for-the-price-of-one weekend away, while using some of his vast store of hotel points to stay in a large hotel in Kensington for only the price of breakfast.

The conference was a blast. Highlights for me including the particle-physisist Simon Singh (who turns up on learned programmes on BBC4) setting fire to a gherkin live on stage; and collecting a smile from Brian May. Yes. That Brian May. He was attending in his 'doctor of astrophysics' persona, not as a rock guitarist, but I've been a fan of Queen for years so it was still rather special.

The talks were fascinating and much to my amazement I enjoyed the super-scientific ones (Lucie Green on the structure of the sun's surface; Don Kurtz on the role of the Kepler mission in discovering new exo-planets) much more than the more historical ones. Given what a duffer at maths and physics I was at school, that was a major surprise.

In addition to cramming in sixteen talks in two days, we also managed a bit of sight-seeing, including lots of exploring round the local streets. Kensington is an area neither of us knew very well and we fell in love with it. It's full of stunning houses; rows of old mews cottages half-hidden down back alleys; blue plaques to famous residents like Benjamin Britten, Hubert Parry, T S Eliot and Alfred Hitchcock; churches; and garden squares. It's also home to some of the most expensive property anywhere in the country so I doubt we'll be moving there any time soon. Add in a run round the natural history museum and a more sedate visit to the science museum, as well as several nice meals out, and all in all it was a very successful trip. Apart from the train journey home, which should have involved one train and taken about two hours. Four hours, three trains and one bus later we finally made it home. Sunday rail travel is a bugger.

Oh, and the gherkin? Dr Singh hooked it up to an electrical current to show the sodium ions (in the pickling brine) glowing orange... and accidentally left it connected just a little bit too long. The smell was interesting, at any rate.

Spooky

The story is finished and sent, so I finally have time to drop in and report a couple of slightly strange experiences from the previous week.

The first involved finding a very large bright green caterpilar making its way determinedly upstairs. Nothing odd in that, you might think, except that it's the middle of winter and we're having a particularly cold spell outdoors. Added to that the stairs are in the middle of the house, about as far from any doors and windows as you can get. And caterpilars aren't exactly the Speedy Gonzalezs of the insect world... and it can hardly have flown. Just where it had come from, and where it was going, are still creeping me out.

Two days later the doorbell rang and when I opened the door there was nobody there. Nothing unusual in that either, of course - kids do it all the time, not to mention a tradesmen or two when they realise they've got the wrong address. But this was different, because I was right by the front door when it happened, and I could see through the glass panels that there really was nobody there. Our front garden is small and the gate is in line with the front door, so unless someone folded themselves up and escaped down a crack in the paving slabs, there was nowhere for them to have gone. So who or what rang the bell? It's still a complete mystery to me.

Mind you, nothing can hold a candle to this photograph in the Westmorland Gazette, of a woman's figure at the window of an empty house.

I don't think I really believe it's a ghost - it looks more like a reflection of someone outside and is probably too small for the proportions to work. But it's a wonderful picture nonetheless, and just creepy enough to send shivers down your spine!

No time...

I realise I've been neglecting this blog the last week or so but there's a good reason for that. Last Friday I spotted a call for submissions from a publisher which might be right up my street, for a theme that I wrote a story about many years ago. The story needed a complete rewrite but I figured I could do that, and get it to the length the publisher was asking for. The only problem? The closing date is 1st February, which was only ten days away.

Writing a 10,000 word story from scratch in only ten days is a tall order, especially for me as I tend to work more slowly than some writers. Nevertheless, I've parked my bum in my study chair every day this week, and have made remarkable progress. Luckily, because I'd already written a version of the story, I knew where it was going which has helped. Now I'm only a couple of thousand words or so away from finishing it, and hoping against hope that I'll have time for that next week.

In the meantime, I shall reapply nose to screen and get typing again. Sorry for the silence. I should be back soon!

Kindle charges

This post is really aimed at any writers out there thinking about publishing their work on Kindle; the information has filtered down to me (via a writer friend) from the head honcho at electronic publisher Untreed Reads.

Apparently, for any work priced at less than $2.99 (or the £ equivalent in the UK, presumably), Amazon takes back a hefty 65% on every sale. For titles over $2.99, Amazon check regularly and if they find it for sale at a lower price anywhere else they will automatically reduce the Kindle price to match and only pay royalties on the lower price.

It's worth bearing this information in mind, especially for anyone hoping to put out single-title short stories on Kindle, as it will have a big effect on the amount of income you can expect from your sales.

There's always a downside, isn't there?

Houston, we have a cover...

And here it is - the brand new, just-announced cover for Radgepacket 6, the latest volume from Byker Books.

The book itself is due out in March (I've already blogged about the launch party) so there's not too long to wait before you can get your sticky mitts on another great collection of gritty 'industrial-strength' stories from authors established and new. Including yours truly, with a tale about a man jumping out of a birthday cake in his... birthday suit.

I hope that snippet, and the cover, whet your appetite!

Scribbling again

Ooof, that was a long break from writing over Christmas and the New Year. First there was a two to three week period in December when I seemed to do nothing but plan for presents, shop for presents, wrap presents, pack presents, and heave presents up the high street to post them.

Then there was the whole holiday period, which dragged on even longer because both Christmas Day and New Year's Day fell on Sundays, so we had to have extra bank holidays to make up.

And then there's that 'first few days back at work' when you're itching to get going again but your brain has been idle so long it's effectively shut down and you have to scrape around for every word.

However, I'm delighted to say that the scraping is over and I'm starting to make some decent progress again at last. I've picked up an old ghost story for now and am having a go at re-writing it since it had some Major Issues I need to work out. Let's hope I can keep the momentum going long enough to actually work them out.

Currently reading

Right now, Dicken's 'Great Expectations', which we watched a brilliant BBC adaptation of over Christmas and enjoyed so much I decided to dig the book out again. I haven't got very far with it yet but I must admit I'd forgotten how funny Dickens can be. Funny, but also caustic. Last night I was giggling over his description of a village school where the children paid twopence a week to watch the elderly teacher fall asleep!

It's quite a contrast to the last book I read, 'The Brutal Art' by Jesse Kellerman, which is far more modern in style and content but in its own way no less good. The book is mostly narrated by Ethan, a rich playboy art dealer who discovers some artwork by a tenant in one of his squillionaire father's properties. The artwork is original, brilliant and holds clues to a series of murders decades ago, but the artist himself has vanished and Ethan sets out to discover who he is, where he is, and whether he had anything to do with the murders.

Ethan is a lot more entertaining than you might expect, with a good line in caustic humour of his own, and his search for the truth is intriguing. The book also features interludes from the past as we follow Ethan's family from their first arrival in New York up to the present day. Some of these are beautifully written and surprisingly poignant. One or two include dialogue which is reported strangely without the use of quotation marks (something I usually hate) but in this case there's a very specific reason for that and it's actually rather clever.

The ending is possibly the weakest part of the book; part felt slightly 'bolted on', and there was one (mercifully short) 'Dear Reader' bit which stuck out like a sore thumb. But on the whole, it keeps you guessing right up to the end, with some very unexpected twists and turns. I can thoroughly recommend it.

Passive explained

Lately I've been seeing some increasingly odd statements from editors about the use of passive in writing. Chief among these are that passive is a tense, not a voice, and that every single instance of the verb 'to be', especially when used in past tense, is an example of passive.

So I was delighted to come across writer Pat Wrede's delightful, simple yet intelligent blog post on the subject of passive and the sudden passion for 'de-wasing'. She puts it so much better than I ever could (I can never remember the names of all those past tenses!) and it's well worth popping along for a read.

If we spread the word, we might be able to stop an entire section of the English language being put 'off limits' for the wrong reasons.

Radgepacket 6 launch party

Byker Books have just announced the date, time and venue of the launch party for their latest volume of 'Tales from the Inner Cities', Radgepacket 6. As with several of the previous parties it's being held at The Back Page, a spectacularly well-stocked sports bookshop in Newcastle upon Tyne (England, in case you weren't sure!), and this time it's on Saturday 10th March 2012 between 12pm and 3pm.

I have a story appearing in the book, but this far ahead I can't say for sure whether I'll be able to attend the launch or not. We do so much travelling these days that I never know where I'm going to be more than two weeks in advance, so two whole months away is a step too far. If I can be there I will, though, and I'll obviously let everyone know a little nearer the time.

In the meantime the book's editor and an assortment of authors will be there, and there'll be free drinkies and nibbles on the house, so if you've got a spare Saturday afternoon and want to get a signed copy of Radgepacket 6 for your collection, do pop along to:

The Back Page
56 St Andrews Street
Newcastle upon Tyne
NE1 5SF

You never know, you might even meet me there!

Not so much white as wet

There's been no snow over Christmas this year. Our neighbours' children were most upset, but all the adults have been quietly saying 'thank heavens for that' and enjoying being able to get about without the aid of spiked boots, 4-wheel-drive and sledges.

Even so, the weather has been atrocious, with almost non-stop rain that's been either diagonal or horizontal depending on whether the wind was gale force or severe gale force.

We'd hoped to get out for some nice walks over the holiday period, at least at lower levels below the snow line. Sadly, the awful weather has mostly put paid to that. We can cope with rain OR wind, but put both together and umbrellas become impediments last seen flying in the general direction of Yorkshire, and not even our expensive waterproofs can keep us dry.

We did manage one walk on Christmas afternoon, as penance for the turkey. It was only short, to one of the small range of fells at the back of the town, and it was more than enough for us. The rain bounced, the wind howled, the path was indescribably muddy in spite of being on a slope, and when we crawled, slithered and sludged our way to the top it was so blotted out that we couldn't see a thing. Not even the lake, which is a pretty big target to hide so successfully. We stood there for a minute or two staring at the fog, blew rain drops off the ends of our noses, and slithered back home. Not one of our more successful outings, and since then we've stuck to the pavements. Figuratively if not quite literally. Roll on spring!

Merry Christmas

Hope it's a good one for everyone with plenty of relaxing and all your favourite things, be they food, drink, dreadful old films on telly, or good books!

I'm off to partake of all of the above but should be back in a couple of days' time, rested, fed, watered and entertained.

Happy Christmas, everyone.

Daily Flash available at Amazon UK

The title says it all, really - Daily Flash 2012, complete with four of my short stories, is now available to buy at Amazon UK. This is good news for British readers as it means you can order the book without paying shipping all the way from America.

Try this link if you'd like to buy the book.

And even more good news - the book should shortly be available in e-book format for both Nook and Kindle. I don't yet know how much it will cost, or have any links, but I will post an update as soon as I have more details.

Currently reading

A couple of charity shop finds. And they could hardly be more different if they tried.

The first is a 'two books in one volume' by David Hewson, who specialises in thrillers set in modern-day Italy but often with historical overtones. Or perhaps I should say hysterical, since the one I've tackled, 'The Garden of Evil', reads like Dan Brown on a slightly better day. The style is reasonable but the plot is a wild and indigestible concoction of murder, religious cults and medieval art and the characters are so wooden you could chop them into planks and make wardrobes out of them. Indeed, the only character who came to life in any way died at the end of the first chapter and after that I rapidly lost interest, not helped by illogical and irrational dialogue that sounds as though a mad editor has simply hacked out every tenth line, so none of the conversations quite make sense.

I've given up, at least for now, and moved on to the other book - 'The Brutal Art' by Jesse Kellerman. So far I've only read a handful of chapters but it's brilliant. Oddly, this also involves art and murder but both elements are far more original and far more gripping and the style is a wonderful mix of vivid description and self-deprecating, wry humour. I can't wait to read the rest.

Both books only cost me 75p each, which makes the latter an unbelievable bargain and the former less of an annoyance than if I'd paid full price for it.

You know it's cold when...

...even the pigeons hunker down, fluff themselves up and huddle together for warmth. We walked down to the lake yesterday in a brief gap between showers of horizontal sleet and I managed to grab some more nice pictures, both of the snowy fells in the distance and also of one or two fun little things closer to home.

Here are the huddled pigeons, and some tourists have tremendous fun feeding the birds, as well as a shot of the fells looking dramatic again:

Early snow

We've had the first snowfall of the winter here - lots of sleet showers over the weekend and then yesterday morning we woke to find everything white.

On Sunday after the heaviest of the showers we took the car, carefully, to the top of Kirkstone Pass where we could get great views without having to venture too far from home. It was snowing the whole time we were up there and there was snow on the verges but the road itself was fine, thank goodness, as it's 1500 feet above sea-level and can get pretty hairy up there.

The car park was quite literally flowing (there's been a lot of rain recently, even before the snow) but I managed to wade about and get some half decent photos of the fells looking their dramatic best. Here are a few to show you what I mean:

A distant shot of the fells taken from further down the road to the pass.

The top of the pass with Red Screes in the background.

Not so much Red Screes as white...

Daily Flash 2012

Once again the editors at Pill Hill Press have bust a gut (hopefully not literally... eww) in order to ensure Daily Flash 2012 is ready before Christmas. They've done it, and the book is available right now from Pill Hill themselves and also from Amazon US.

Don't forget that the anthology contains not one but four short stories by yours truly, ranging in subject matter from depressed vampires to enigmatic dogs, scarecrows to a monster in a maze.

More ordering options will be added to the list shortly, including Amazon UK for any British readers not wanting to pay shipping all the way from America!

In the meantime if anyone you know loves reading, then a collection of 366 stories, one for every day of the year, might make the perfect Christmas present.

Shark tales?

Well, not quite, but I have a snappy little story up at The Pygmy Giant today. It's called Make It Snappy and it's set in one of these fish foot spas that are suddenly springing up on every high street, all over the country. We had two open in our small village in the Lake District over the summer; sadly not even the tourist trade could keep both going and one closed a few weeks ago. The other still seems to be packed!

Sticking my feet in a tank full of fish that may or may not have been cleaned since the last pair of feet were flapping about in there is not my idea of heaven so I've never actually tried the experience for myself. I'm told the fish tickle... and that it's an effective way of dealing with all sorts of skin conditions and diseases. But... but... oh, I don't know... FEET. Ugh.

Still, I hope everyone can get over their various feety dislikes and enjoy the story. It's dark, it's slightly evil, but I'm hoping it's fun.

Heave away, haul away

We seem to be booked into a sudden flurry of concerts and events lately. Last night it was the turn of Fishermen's Friends at Birmingham Town Hall. They're a group of Cornish fishermen and artisans who have become famous for singing sea shanties and other old folk songs, often in the open air in their home village of Port Isaac.

The sea shanties were particularly appropriate last night as we could have done with a boat to row ourselves into the city centre and back - it was absolutely sloshing down!

I'm not sure shanties are my favourite type of music - they all sound the same after a while - but the evening was great fun. The men do wonderful harmonies and because there are ten of them they can give it some 'oomph', and they sang a good selection of songs including a methodist hymn, a calypso number and what sounded like a negro spiritual, which helped keep the sound more varied. And in between the numbers, the group's blogger/raconteur did a great line in 'patter' with jokes and snippets of information about Cornish history and the background to the songs. He turned the evening from a recital to an event, and was a lot funnier than two of the comedians we saw the other night.

The support band Flats & Sharps were a revelation, too. When they came on stage they looked incredibly young and we thought 'oh, no, yet another group of festival-band-wannabes'. Then we saw their instruments - double bass, banjo, mandolin... and thought 'no'. Turns out they're a teenage bluegrass band from Cornwall (now there's a combination) and they were incredibly good. I think I preferred them to the main act, actually...

Just for laughs

On Saturday evening we went out with some friends of ours to a Barnstormers comedy night at Solihull Arts Complex. Our friends had been to one recently where the famous comedian Jasper Carrott turned up unannounced; word had obviously got round because the room, although small, was packed.

No sign of Our Jasper on Saturday, sadly (he always has me helpless; at one of his concerts I quite literally stopped breathing, I was laughing so much). Instead we had a series of three comedians, interspersed with a genial compere. All three were good in different ways, but two appealed less - not just to me, but to Dave and our friends as well. They followed the route of standard stand-up: a 'chat' to the audience about events in their own lives, probably made-up and always tending towards bodily functions. One joke about poo can be funny but after a while it wears off and in the case of the first bloke on stage, I really didn't need to know that his Dad had phoned to tell him his mother had just shit herself. And the punchline? The mother grabbed the phone to say 'it was only a little bit'. Hmm. All very well but the only trouble is, it's not funny.

In between the two more ordinary acts, though, was one that stood out a mile. His name is Anthony J Brown and he's described as 'a dapper and dandy funeral director, ...with humour blacker than a raven that has slammed its claw in a coffin lid'. His jokes were different. His whole demeanour was different, since he sidled up to the microphone and began to fondle it in a distinctly erotic manner. He delivered his one-liners deadpan, in a voice that wasn't much above a whisper, so you found you were hanging on every word. And boy, was it worth it, because the punchline was always unexpected, often macabre, and very, very funny. He had the entire audience in stitches. I can't give away too much of his material, obviously (he'd probably chop me into little pieces and feed me to his pet microphone) but here's a tiny taster:

"I came into some money the other day."

[long pause]

"I'd run out of tissues."

[even longer pause]

"It halved the queue at the cashpoint."

At which point I stopped breathing again. I wouldn't mind if I never saw the other two comedians again, but I'll be looking out for Anthony J Brown on the local comedy circuits and I hope he makes a bigger name for himself than he already has. He deserves it.

When is art not art?

Possibly when it's a poem.

On Saturday we visited Abbott Hall art gallery in Kendal for the first time. We'd heard it was rather good and sure enough, although the collection on display is quite small, it's full of big names. These include George Romney, who studied art in the town before moving to London; Constable; Turner; and a collection of watercolours of local scenes showing the development of the 'picturesque' movement in the Lake District - paintings that are over dramatised to the point of wild innacuracy, but always romantic.

Upstairs the display changes to more modern art, currently including an exhibition by world-renowned artist Richard Long, who specialises in works that involve landscape. I tend to be rather undecided about Modern Art at the best of times; some of this was, to my mind, brilliant (especially his stunning landscape photography), but some left me cold. In particular, there were a series of artworks where words had been printed onto a sheet of paper and then framed and hung. One of these had me scratching my head, because it was a long list of sounds he'd heard while on a long walk. I assume you were meant to read the list, sound by sound, and hear each one in your own mind to re-create the artist's walk yourself.

The language Long used was very evocative and quickly brought the various noises to mind. It's an intriguing idea, but is it really art? To my mind, written words on a page with their own style and internal rhythm, which evoke a particular image (or in this case, sound) are poetry, not art. If so, then Long is as good a poet as he is an artist.

A story a day

A story a day may not keep the doctor away but it still sounds like good entertainment, which is the aim of the 'Daily Flashes of Fiction 2012' anthology from Pill Hill Press.

The anthology will include four of my darkest, twistedest short stories (Is 'twistedest' a word? Oh well, it is now!) and is divided into 366 days of the year (2012 is Leap Year), each day having its very own story. The editor has just confirmed which day will be represented by each of my stories; the dates are as follows:

27th February - This Life Sucks
13th April - Load of Bull
15th June - Footprints
7th August - Peeping Tom

As far as I know Pill Hill are still on track to release this in December this year, ready for readers to start devouring their daily story from January 1st, so do keep an eye open for further details on when it will be available.

Currently reading

I've just this minute finished reading 'Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell' by Susanna Clarke. It's a massive book - the sort you could use to fell a burglar at twenty yards - and it's taken some getting through. Not because it's no good, but because these days I only really read in bed at night and by then my eyes are too tired to read more than a few pages at a time.

It was worth the lengthy reading time, though, because the book is simply amazing. Original, quirky, full of sly humour but also excitement and even the odd note of poignancy. Basically it tells the tale of two magicians in late Georgian England, but a Georgian England that's very different from the one we learn about in history lessons. This England has been shaped by magic, and by the reign of a magician king who held sway over a vast swathe of northern England in medieval times but has since disappeared. The two magicians of the title, Jonathan Strange and Gilbert Norrell, bicker and fight over the return of magic to England, with sometimes amusing, sometimes disastrous results.

The book is very, very long. Well over a thousand pages, and written in an old fashioned, Victorian-novel style that I thought was rather dry - for the first few pages, until I spotted the glorious, half-hidden humour underlying almost every sentence. In the end I think it probably is too long, and there were a few chapters after half-way but before the race to the end which dragged and which could easily have been shortened or even removed without affecting the story.

Overall, though, the sheer scale of the world Ms Clarke has created, the attention to detail, the frequent footnotes explaining this or that spell or historical event, make it less of a book and more of a fantasy tour-de-force. I loved it!

Breathless #2

No more sprints to the station with missing phones, thank goodness, but Dave's been suffering with a rotten cold and cough the last couple of weeks and has just, very generously, passed it on to me.

I won't go into details about all the spluttering but hopefully I'll be back on my feet and posting on here again soon.

Jack in the Box

This is the title of the latest story to be accepted by Byker Books for the latest volume in their ongoing Radgepacket series, which will be number six.

I had the acceptance late last night and was particularly happy as I sent the story in simply months before the deadline and was never quite sure the editor had received it. The good news was that not only had he received it, but read it and enjoyed it enough to stuff it in Radgepacket 6, where it'll snuggle up to stories by some great noir authors like Ian Ayris, Paul Brazill and Col Bury.

Actually, 'snuggle' probably isn't the right word since Radgepacket stories tend to be so edgy you could cut diamond with them, but you know what I mean.

And what's Jack in the Box about? Well, it's a painfully dark tale about a young man cosying up to the local crime boss to get what he wants. And it starts with said young man jumping naked out of the cake at the crime boss's fiftieth birthday party. You can't make much more of an entrance than that!

The book should be available to buy, or at least pre-order, in spring 2012 but I'll post regular updates, and perhaps an excerpt or two, nearer to the time.

Breathless

On Sunday Dave set off for a marathon five hour train journey to Kent, where he'd be staying for three days. Five minutes after I'd bundled him into a taxi, I spotted a small dark ominous shape on the hall shelf... his mobile phone.

Knowing he'd be lost without it (it's got all his work contacts, as well as email handling and everything else), I had no option but to make a dash for the station, to try to catch him. I slammed the windows shut, grabbed a jacket and set off, without even the time to change into decent walking shoes.

The train was due to leave in twenty minutes, and it's a three quarter mile trek to the station. Ordinarily that wouldn't be a problem, but it's relentlessly uphill the entire way, the last part a one-in-five gradient, and there are roads to cross and the village centre crowds to negotiate. I half-ran, half-walked, gasping for air on the steepest bits, and rather to my disbelief got to the station entrance just as the train was pulling in.

Of course, by the time I'd reached the platform Dave had already boarded the train but I went and bobbed up and down outside all the windows and luckily he saw me, came to the door and retrieved his phone. One minute later the doors shut and the train pulled away... and I retreated to a nearby cafe for a cuppa while my breath trickled back!

I'm quite proud of myself, though. One happy husband reunited with his phone, and I must not be quite as unfit as I thought I was!

Aspen Mountain update

As of Tuesday this week, the Aspen Mountain Press website has been down, with only the following brief statement to replace the usual content:

"The Aspen Mountain Press web site is temporarily suspending operations.

Over the past five years we've demanded high standards in all areas of the company from authors to editors to administrators. Due to the current health of the owner these standards have not been met.

We'd like to thank you for your support and patronage over this past half decade and apologize for any inconveniences this decision causes."

On the one hand this is terrific news - someone at the press has finally seen sense and suspended operations while they sort out both themselves and the whole horrible muddle. Books are no longer being sold illegally, outside of contract and/or copyright, and although royalties are still not forthcoming many authors (including me) would be willing to forego their payments just to get their rights back.

On the other hand, there's still that pesky 'temporarily' in the message. This has happened before; the website is starting to resemble a game of hokey-cokey having been up and down about three times in the last couple of weeks. Each time it went down the authors breathed a sigh of relief, only for it to pop back up again a day or so later. This time, it's been down for three days straight, and I'm really starting to hope that it has either gone off air for a major re-think, or closed its doors for good.

Wine, women and song

We had a fantastic night with our friends last week when we went to see American folk rock band The Pierces at Birmingham's Glee Club.

The Pierces are two singing sisters from the other Birmingham in Alabama, who have been performing together since early childhood and specialise in the sort of harmonies I remember from sixties groups like The Mamas and The Papas. We first came across them at an accoustic studio performance during the Glastonbury coverage on BBC and were, quite honestly, blown away. Two women, one bloke with an accoustic guitar, and sheer perfection.

On the strength of that, and a few searches on YouTube, we bought their latest album and when we saw they were performing live in Brum, we grabbed some tickets (not before time as the concert was a sell-out) and mugged our friends into going along. All four of us were blown away all over again. The songs were note-perfect, and at one point the sisters sang acapella, with no accompaniment whatsoever, and were still note-perfect. They really are a sensation, and not nearly well known enough.

The only slight downside was that the event was standing only. From the moment we joined the queue outside the doors to the moment we finally hauled ourselves back to the car was a little over three hours. I'd worn flat boots but even so my feet were close to committing murder and our friends ached from head to foot. Still, it was a small price to pay for a great musical evening.

Google email problems

It looks as though Google mail is having serious problems this morning. I logged on to my usual email account in Windows Live, to find over a thousand messages waiting for me, most of them junk.

I went through and deleted the lot... and then found that something had apparently spoofed my email address and was happily sending more spam out *from* my account. ::headdesk:: According to Dave, there are new kinds of spam that activate when you delete the original message, whether or not you open it. That's so crafty it's untrue, and seems to have happened to me.

I've logged out of my email account and closed the program, which will hopefully limit the damage until Google sort themselves out. In the meantime I can't, of course, receive or respond to any email - and can only apologise if any of my readers, friends, relations and contacts have been showered with spam from my account. I'm hoping it's only a temporary glitch...

Unfinished novels

I had to smile at this little snippet in the latest issue of Mslexia:

"At myunfinishednovels.com 'six-time failed novelist' Steve Wilson calls for fellow failed novelists to show their faces. "It's time for us to face our shame and share our failures, bathe in our lack of dedication, explore our artistic nebbishness." Each unpublished novel is accompanied by a 'reason abandoned'."

I quite like the sound of this. I could fill a double-decker bus with the files containing all my unfinished novels, some of which date back to my earliest days as a new writer, nearly (gulp) twenty years ago. Since then my style has changed and so have my interests; a vast sci-fi tome, for instance, is unlikely to ever see the light of day because apart from a very occasional flash story I no longer dabble in that genre.

Others may still get tugged off the shelf and fiddled with from time to time, and there's at least two that I still have high hopes of finishing, One Of These Days. In the end, though, I think my biggest downfall is concentration. It's so hard to focus on just one mammoth project long enough to get it written, edited, polished, re-written and submitted somewhere. Some writers can do all that in a matter of months or even weeks, but it takes me years.

The one thing that puts me off joining Steve Wilson at unfinishednovels is the implication that you have to share the entire work with the group. That could give rise to copyright or 'previous publication' issues if hell ever freezes over and I do finish one of my babies. Otherwise, I'd be in there like a shot. If nothing else, it sounds like the perfect place to waste more time that I should really be spending... um... finishing a novel.

New! Spark to a Flame

Remember me saying, a few days back, that I'd had a story accepted by Litro? Well, they've published it today and you can read it, absolutely free, on their Ones to Watch section.

The story, about an arson attack on a school, was inspired by various news reports and events here in the UK, and has a twist that I hope makes it very topical. I hope you all enjoy it, and don't get any ideas involving matches. ;)

Please don't buy my book

You might think this is a really strange thing for any writer to say. After all, we write books and stories to entertain people, and hopefully to make a little money in the process, so asking readers not to buy our work is a little like an athlete stapling their feet to the track. They're not going to get very far.

However, sometimes circumstances are so difficult that desperate measures are called for, and that's what has happened here. My second pigeon shapeshifting tale, Steal the Sky, was published by Aspen Mountain Press in the anthology 'Shifting Perspectives 2' three years ago, under the terms of a three-year contract. As of the 1st of October this year, that contract expired, and one of the other authors in the same anthology had already let the company's owner know that we didn't want to renew. Under the terms of the contract, as of 1st October all rights should have reverted to the authors (including me) and the publisher should have automatically removed the book from their own catalogue, and notified any third-party distributors such as Fictionwise, Barnes and Noble, Amazon etc.

Sadly, this hasn't happened. Not just for my story in that anthology, but for many books by many different authors all contracted to Aspen Mountain Press. The company's owner has gone AWOL, is refusing to answer emails, telephone calls or letters, is returning certified mail unopened, and hasn't paid any authors royalties for some considerable time.

The last time I was paid royalties on Steal the Sky was in July, and those were already two months in arrears, which means the last actual payment I received was for May. That's six months ago. Six months of the book continuing to be sold by Aspen Mountain Press and other distributors, while I receive not a single penny. Now the book is out of contract, and it's *still* being sold. Illegally, I might add, and the payments are still not being made.

I'm not alone. There are authors out there who are owed hundreds, possibly even thousands of dollars in unpaid royalties. But I'll let them tell their own stories; all I can do is point to my own experience. I emailed Aspen Mountain Press on Monday to remind them Steal the Sky was now out of contract. I've received no response and the book is still on their catalogue.

I will of course be contacting as many distributors as I can track down to explain the facts to them and beg them to remove the book from their catalogues. But in the meantime I can only issue a heartfelt plea - if anyone comes across this book being sold anywhere, please please please don't be tempted to buy it. You won't be doing me any favours if you do because I won't receive a penny from the sales; the only person who will benefit is the owner of Aspen Mountain Press.

It's an unpleasant situation, and sad too, because until quite recently Aspen Mountain were a decent company to work for. That's no longer the case, and I can only sit and watch the carnage as the company circles the drain. Oh, and if anyone out there is considering submitting work to them, don't. Seriously. It really isn't worth the bother.

Litro accept a story

Yesterday I got back from a few days away to the great news that Litro Magazine, a well-regarded British literary magazine distributed free to libraries and the like, have accepted a story of mine for their (relatively new) online 'Ones to Watch' section.

The story, called Spark to a Flame, is a topical little piece about an arson attack on a school. I originally wrote it for the revenge anthology since the twist in the tail contains definite overtones of vengeance. But I can easily replace it with something else and I'm delighted to be part of Litro's new venture. Look out for more news of when the story is likely to appear in the next few days.

Scribbling again

Little by little, now that the intense hard work of preparing the house for sale is over, I'm starting to write again.

I can never concentrate when there's too much going on. I need to be able to hear my characters' voices in my head, and if I can't hear myself think then I certainly can't hear them think.

But although there's still work to be done it's more of a 'holding action' now, of keeping everything clean and tidy while the agent brings potential buyers round. I can actually stop to draw breath again, and there's even time to sit and just think. All of which means progress on the story front. I've finished one more very short one for the revenge anthology (remember that from earlier in the year?) and am rattling through a second as I type.

It's a huge relief not to have all those words bottled up inside me with no way of getting them out.

Psst! Wanna buy a house?

The hard work is finally over and we signed contracts with an estate agent on Monday to put our Birmingham house on the market. He braved a howling gale (ex Hurricane Katia...) to take photos of the place, but in spite of that has managed some stunning shots which we're delighted with. I never realised how tidy everything looked!

We had a couple of viewings yesterday; no offers yet but it's still very early days - it hasn't even been advertised in the local papers yet. We're expecting a quietish weekend, and then for all hell to break loose later on next week.

If anyone is interested, either in buying a 5-bed Victorian house in Birmingham or just in being nosy (grin), then you can find all the details here. And anyone who's seen references to our 'pointy' house in my biography can perhaps see what I meant...

No more hurricanes, thanks

America is being a tad too generous with its ex-hurricanes at the moment. So far we've had the tail-end of Irene (gales, rain); Katia is expected on Sunday night (more gales); and Lee is hovering in the wings and looking far too likely to cruise across the Atlantic in the other storms' wake.

This is Not Good if you're about to put your house up for sale. We're eyeing the nearby trees nervously and wondering if they're going to chuck nasty big branches all over the garden, or even worse, topple over on the roof. It's a nerve-wracking time.

The rain, on the other hand, is welcome. We heard on the local news last week that this summer has been the driest in the West Midlands since the long hot summer of 1976. Pretty much everywhere else has had a damp and depressing summer but every time it rained somewhere else, Birmingham missed it. The end result is a garden that looks as thought someone poisoned it, since so many plants are either losing their leaves to conserve moisture, or dying. We've been watering but there's only so much you can do with a hosepipe; what we really need is several days of good, heavy, non-stop rain.

Perhaps we need those hurricanes after all...