Making History

With Richard III about to be laid to rest (again), here's a topical, humorous little snippet from Claimant Commitment, primarily a story of Bedroom Tax troubles and sanctions, currently being serialised as often-free Kindle ebooks (all three episodes published so far are free to download on Sunday 29th March).  It's not all doom, gloom and austerity, however.  Find the first part here:

SPOILER ALERT (if you haven't read/finished Severe Discomfort and Continual Supervision, and don't want to know whether Hilary Carrington finds herself a man!).

It's the evening of Monday 4^th February 2013.  Tom Appleby is completing a banner for a newly-formed protest movement while waiting for his beloved wife to come home from work... 

Listening to the radio, he followed the breaking news avidly.

He was tidying the sitting room and putting his paints away when he heard her car pull into the drive.  He opened the door for her as she entered the porch.

‘Have you heard?’ she exclaimed, letting him take her coat and kissing his lips.  ‘After all this time!’

‘I know!  It’s extraordinary!’  It was indeed incredible that a body unearthed in a Council car park had proved to be that of England’s last Plantagenet king.  ‘It’s almost too good to be true!’

‘I honestly don’t know how he thought he could get away with it,’ said Hilary.  ‘People expect certain standards of their political leaders.’

His wife was no historian, but of course everybody knew the tragic tale of the Princes in the Tower.  Tom poured a glass of wine for Hilary and another for himself, and started ladling out their beef casserole supper.  

‘He ought to have told the truth at the beginning,’ Hilary continued.  ‘It would all have blown over soon enough!’

Tom glanced across at his wife, somewhat taken aback.  ‘I don’t know about that, my love.’  He was surprised to find her taking such a tolerant attitude of something that, even by the ruthless standards of the Renaissance, was regarded as a heinous felony.

‘But plenty of people survive much worse scandals.’ Hilary persisted.

‘That’s as may be,’ Tom said, placing their meals on the table and taking his seat.  ‘But if you commit cold-blooded murder, even if there are sound political reasons for it…’

‘Murder?’ she queried.  ‘It was a driving offence!’

‘Eh?’

‘And perverting the course of justice, arguably the most damaging aspect of the case.’  Hilary peered quizzically across the table at him.  ‘What on earth has murder got to do with it?’

Naturally, Hilary would be focused on the politics of the day rather than those of the fifteenth century.  Archaeological revelations apparently came a very poor second.

‘Sorry, my sweetheart,’ Tom laughed, feeling slightly foolish.  ‘I thought you were talking about Richard the Third, not Chris Huhne!’

‘Oh Tom!  You are such a silly old boffin at times!’

But she evidently still loved her silly old boffin, as she leaned across the table and kissed the end of his nose.

Reviews and Redemptions

Last lock before London?

'The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.'  Well, that Oscar Wilde fellow knew a thing or two about writing and writers, and as I watch for reviews of Grand Union, the 4mph thriller with windlass-wielding Daphne Randall as its heroine, I'm not going to disagree.  Reviews are how you know that there's anyone out there reading your 'stuff'.  It's lovely when your friends say a kind word or two, but when they are from people who don't know you and aren't afraid to be honest, they are especially valuable - even if they aren't brimming with superlative praise.

For example, there's a '3 star' on Amazon.com which gives good marks for technical merit but fewer for artistic interpretation, but that's fine - it would be dreadful to make a bad job of describing the 'boaty bits' when they are an integral part of the story and likely to be so whenever Daphne next casts off (not for a little while - maybe next NaNoWriMo).

The other independent opinions are both 4 stars, which is tremendous for a book dashed off in a month, and include some lovely and helpful comments. 'Liked the feisty main character, Daphne'.  Good news, as I suspect some readers will despise her from the moment she bids Margaret Thatcher 'good riddance'.  I have to agree that 'The plot has some implausible elements' - not least the bit where Councillor Randall quits politics on a point of principle, one might cynically suggest, having sat through the real version of that budget meeting! - but hopefully the worst of the proofing errors mentioned have now been zapped and the revised version has uploaded successfully.

The other review is also friendly and encouraging, concluding with the possibly slightly suggestive, 'I empathised with Daphne her main character and I would willingly share a lock with her anytime should our boats be travelling along the same stretch of canal!'  All the way to the pub, perchance?

Careful now...!

Close to home - Ivy House lift bridge, Caldon Canal

I remember how excited I was with the first couple of reviews of Severe Discomfort - also unsolicited - started to come in.  The first, which started, 'Have just read this, and really rather enjoyed it. It was quite difficult to get in to, but after a while the characters grew on me-at the beginning they seemed unsympathetic and dull, but now I want to know what happened to them...' is about as good a review as you could hope for, encouraging people to stick with it and give Lyn and Terry a chance to develop as characters.

Many of the original cast have reunited for another tale and Claimant Commitment is being released in monthly episodes (the third part free this Sunday).  I've been publicising it, and the earlier books, via various anti-austerity and disability support Facebook Groups.  There have been some really encouraging and supportive comments from readers on some of these too, but also some quite sobering observations.  Just recently, sharing a link for Limited Capability, two people commented that they had started reading it but had stopped because they had found it too realistic and too close to their own situations for comfort.  It was tempting to wade in with some reassurances, though how to do so without ending up in spoiler territory?

What it did make me appreciate is that, when you are writing about real situations, even through the eyes of imaginary characters, you have to be mindful that readers will include people facing the same challenges.  The laughs and the love scenes (which aren't always a hit with serious activists) are in there to lift the clouds and lighten the load for them, and for anyone who isn't a complete benefits geek and needs to take a step back from the misery for a moment.  Life is hard enough for claimants and their families, without adding to their fears by bringing too much unremitting trouble down upon people they have identified with.

So I try to stay real, without losing hope.  My heroes have to win through, at least to some extent.  Especially with an election on the horizon, we all desperately need some optimism. 

And part of that optimism might be an unexpected redemption, or at least a partial rehabilitation, for an old foe.  Gary Pike may yet get to play a somewhat Gollumesque part in the current tale, though with Garys allegedly an endangered species, I had probably better not actually kill him off!

"Are you Daphne?"

Someone had to ask.

If you're a fifty-something female writing characters of the same age, I suppose readers are going to be curious about how much of yourself is tucked away in little corners of their personalities, and how closely their experiences are based on your own.  If I'm really not a well-disguised version of the sophisticated, sexy, compassionate and slightly vain Ms Carrington, am I in fact her old university chum, the opinionated, beer-swilling skipper of The Lady Eowyn?

Well no; no more than I am Hilary.  Or to put it another way; yes, to some degree.
  
Except I really don't like beer, unless diluted with quantities of lemonade that folks serious about their real ale would find utterly heretical and, while I occasionally enjoy a Guinness, a half tends to be enough.  I've never, ever dyed my hair any colour at all, let alone candy pink or kingfisher blue, and I'm a long, long way from being a Geordie, being Hampshire born and bred.  But I do have a narrowboat and, although it's not my only home, Mr H and I did complete the very journey undertaken by Daphne in Grand Union, if in somewhat milder peril, and others that may yet turn into excellent adventures for 'wah lass'.  

Lock 92, Rochdale Canal, Manchester

I turned some of the photos into a little slideshow with music and 'Grand Union - The Movie' (which is too big a file to share in a blog, apparently) has been quietly doing the rounds of Facebook, clocking up over 3,000 views and attracting perhaps - er - 2 downloads of the ebook.

You can understand why none of my 'strong female characters' are marketing executives...

'Uppie' at Little Venice, London

I need to find a way to promote Grand Union and, despite previously slating them in much the same terms the entirely fictional Daphne Randall slates the entirely fictional Six Towns Gazette, my best bet is almost certainly to drop a copy of the book with a suitably up-beat, eye-catching press release in to the local newspaper office.  There's at least one local journo who's championed another local writer and also been a sympathetic voice covering 'welfare reform' issues, so that's seems as good a place to start as any.

I probably do need to reassure him that I won't be dragging him off to the pub, or back to my boat afterwards, though - just in case he thinks I might be Daphne too!

You can read the first few chapters of Daphne's adventures here: completelynovel or here: amazon