Friend and author, Sue Barnard...

 ...makes a very welcome return to the blog this week.  Hi Sue, thanks so much for taking time out from your very busy schedule to be here today.  Tell me, what are you working on at the moment...

SB  I’m currently putting the finishing touches to a French edition of my paranormal romance novella Never on Saturday.  It’s set partly in medieval France and partly in present-day North Wales, and is based on an old French legend.  The French edition will be called Jamais le Samedi, and will be released in paperback and Kindle versions this summer.

AW   How interesting.  I will look out for that.  So, what first got you into writing and why?

SB   If you include those compulsory “Composition” exercises at primary school, I guess I’ve been writing, on and off, for most of my life.  But it was only after a life-changing event nearly twenty years ago, when I realised I had a story to tell, that I started taking it more seriously.

AW   You write romance, historical, paranormal and cross-genre fiction.  Is it all imagination or do you do research?

SB   Both.  The stories might come from imagination, but the settings and the facts need to be authentic – so research is essential.  I really enjoy it, but it often leads me down all sorts of internet rabbit-holes.  It’s not unknown for me to suddenly realise that two hours have passed and I haven’t written a word!

AW  And what about other types of writing?  Have you dabbled with other genres or short stories perhaps?  And what about poetry or scripts for stage, film or TV?

SB    Following the aforementioned life-changing event I did several short courses in Creative Writing in its various forms: Fiction, Poetry, Plays, and Creative Non-Fiction.  Since then I’ve written various short stories and poems (one of which, to my eternal surprise, won a major award) and non-fiction articles.  Whilst I’ve never made any further attempts at playwriting, that particular course has proved very useful in creating realistic-sounding dialogue, and also helping me to adhere to the all-important principle of Show Don’t Tell.  As a result, much of my work is dialogue-driven.  As Alice in Wonderland so rightly observed: What is the use of a book without pictures or conversations?

AW  Well Said Alice!  Famous authors such as Roald Dahl and Dylan Thomas had a special space for writing.  Do you have a writing shed of your own?

SB   Not a shed as such, but I do have my own writing spaces.  In the summer it’s a corner of the conservatory with a lovely view of the garden, and in the winter it’s a corner of the front room.  Having said that, as long as I have my trusty laptop I can write almost anywhere, so long as it isn’t the Muse’s day off.

AW   And finally, if you had a whole afternoon to yourself and could choose to spend it with any one individual, living or dead, or a character from a book, who would it be and what would you discuss?

SB    I think it would have to be Shakespeare, who has been the inspiration for so much of my own writing.  I would ask him how he managed to be so prolific, if he ever suffered from the dreaded Writer’s Block, and also what really happened during his so-called “lost years”.

about the book... Two stories, two heartbreaks: one past, one present...

Leaving her native France and arriving in North Wales as a postgraduate student of History and Folklore, Mel is cautiouly optimistic that she can escape from her troubled past and begin a new and happier life.

She settles into her student accomodation and begins work on her thesis, concentrating particularly on one facsinating manuscript: a compelling and tragic tale of a cursed medieval princess.

Then she meets Ray - charming, down-to-earth and devastatingly handsome.  Within days, Mel's entire world has transformed from lonely and frustrated to loving and fulfilled.

Despite her failure with previous relationships, she allows herself to hope that this time, at last, she can make it work.

But Mel's dreams of happiness are under constant threat.  She is hiding a dark and terrible secret, which Ray - or indeed anybody else - must never discover.

about the author... Sue is a British novelist, editor and award-winning poet who believes that an immaculate house is a sign of a wasted life.  Thus, her house is chaotic but her life is anything but dull.

Her mind is so warped that she has appeared on BBC TV's Only Connect quiz show, and she also compiles questions for BBC Radio 4's fiendishly difficult Round Britain Quiz.  This once caused one of her sons to describe her as "professionally weird".  The label has stuck.

She speaks French like a Belgian, German like a schoolgirl, and Italian and Portuguese like an Englishwoman abroad.  She is also very interested in family history.  Her own family background is far stranger than any work of fiction.  She would write a book about it if she thought anybody would believe her.

Sue lives in Cheshire, UK, with her extremely patient husband and a large collection of unfinished scribblings.

Sue also works as an Author and Editor at Darkstroke and Ocelot Press 

You can follow Sue on her Blog and on Facebook Twitter  Instagram  Goodreads  RNA

You can get all her books, including the audio book, The Ghostly Father, on  Amazon

I'm reviewing A Narrow Door...

 ... by Joanne Harris on my blog today.  And what a read it is, too...

This is the third book in which we pay a visit to St Oswald’s school in Malbry.  And again Roy Straitley is the Latin Master at the centre of the story.  The other two books, A Different Class and Gentlemen and Players, don’t need to be read before this one as each story is a stand-alone novel in their own rights.  However, it is helpful if you have the background knowledge of Straitley’s character.

For me, this book was an eagerly awaited read and I was not disappointed.  The time frame is now 2006 and things have changed at St Oswald’s.  The previously male dominated society of the school and the staffroom has been invaded by females and the new head is also a woman.

Told from two points of view – something that Harris is an absolute master of – it is quite clear from the outset that Straitley and ‘La Buckfast’ as he refers to his new superior are going to lock horns.  Roy makes it quite clear that he is resentful of the new regime and the planned changes to the curriculum.  He clearly plans to carry on in exactly the same way as he has always done.

The New Headmistrees – whom Roy deliberately addresses as Headmaster whenever he speaks to her – has other ideas.  She fully intends to leave her mark on the school and no-one, not even Straitley, is going to get in her way  But ‘La Buckfast’ has a past, a past that she doesn’t want to reveal and when the body of a boy is discovered during the course of excavations for the building of a new swimming pool, that past begins to invade her every day life.  Old memories are disturbed, uncertainties raised and a secret she has kept hidden for decades begins to surface.

Although set in 2006, the story moves backwards and forwards in time as the details of Buckfast’s past are slowly and tantalisingly revealed.

The story is really well plotted and the dynamics between the two central characters are played out brilliantly throughout the novel  Roy’s grudging acceptance of La Buckfast is gradual but he knows there’s something she is hiding and he is determined to find out what it is.  With the detemination of a dog with a bone, Straitley gradually collects the tiny pieces of information together and the story reaches a unexpected ending.

A brilliant read and I thoroughly enjoyed being back at the school with Mr Straitley.

A Fair Division of Labour…

...after a two year absence, that intrepid traveller, James, and his sister are back.  The pandemic has caused them to make, some changes, but they are finally planning a trip to France...

My brother James has gone all posh.  He's actually sold our large frame tent and bought a caravan.  I can't quite recall the lengthy discussion where I agreed to this proposition, but he's done it anyway.  So here I am, the reluctant part-owner of a bright and shiny caravan.  Not that it is new, of course.  No.  James never buys anything new, well apart from his underpants, which he insists must come from that clothing shop on every High Street.  It's something to do with the fit apparently.

Anyway, we now have this house on wheels, which he says I will have to look after and maintain just like I do our shared house.  So, I thought I ought to have a look at the thing.  Just as I was about get inside he presented me with a substantial manual.

'Read that,' he said.  'You'll find everything you need to know in there'.

I wasn't impressed.  In fact, I thought how odd it was that everyone needs a manual to do the washing up and ironing these days.  Well, I had a look inside the caravan and didn't see anything in there for which a guidebook was required.  I tried the seating and it was quite comfy although the particular shade of purple used for the upholstery was not really to my taste.  But there we are.  Whilst I was sitting there I opened the book and started working through it.  I was even less impressed when I got to the last page.  I wandered back to the house.

'James,' I said.  'I think you are under a misnomer about your shed on wheels.'

'How so?'  He asked as he gazed at me over the top of his spectacles.

'There is nothing in this guide that even remotely resembles what I do here at home,' I said.  I started at page one and gradually worked my through.

'Hitching up, towing, arriving, pitching, fetching water, cleaning and emptying the toilet, erecting the awning. No.'  I said.  'That's all Outside Technical.  That's your domain.'

'I see,' said James.  He opened his mouth to say something else but I didn't stop to breathe.

'Barbecuing, un-hitching, taking the awning down, clearing the pitch ready to leave and packing all external items.  Outside Technical.'

I paused expecting some sort of a response.  As nothing was forthcoming I continued.

'The water heating system, the heater, the appliances inside and so on all fall under the heading of Inside Technical.  Also your domain.'

Having made my views clear about the stuff in the book, I thought I also ought to remind James of some of the other duties that fall into his domain regardless of where we are.

'Washing up after meals, drying the pots and putting them away, rubbish collection and disposal.  Inside Domestic,' I said.  'Your domain just as it always has been,' I said.

'So, are you planning on doing anything whilst we're in France?'

'Of course, James,' I said.  'I will still cook, but I will also take on the new, and dual roles of Inside and Outside Management now we have the caravan,' I said.

A fair division of labour, I think...

I'm Off My Beaten Track in Cairo...

Cairo skyline

...today.  I've always had an interest in ancient Egyptian culture and history and it had been my ambition to visit the many ancient sites since I'd been about nine or ten.  Eventually, I did make it there for a month and, of course, I kept a journal... 
 
CAIRO EXPLORED
 
Getting here has been… tiring, worrying and quite stressful.  I had become convinced that I would just never make it as nothing in relation to this planned holiday seemed to run smoothly.  The necessary injections took three months to organise because of difficulties getting the vaccines, the dates of travel were changed which left me with a problem for the care of my parents dog which took ten days to sort out and then, there was my trip on the back doorstep which has left me with a seriously bruised bum and back ache, a taxi for the station that didn't arrive and a traveller at Heathrowe who had a whole half a holds-worth of luggage to check in.  I mean, who really has that many clothes?  Well, she did, obviously!  Anyway I'm finally here, but I'm still very tired from all the travelling and the late arrival yesterday.

As I attempted to look in the mirror this morning I noticed that the portmanteaux under my eyes looked as though they were full of bricks.  Breakfast was terribly polite.  As a bunch of travellers, none of us really know each other, having met for the first time late yesterday when we were corralled by the travel company onto the bus waiting at the airport.  Still, breakfast was an opportunity to put my Fellow Travellers under scrutiny.
The Cairo musuem was todays must see - a short coach ride away and an opportunity to have a look at this sprawling city.  Cairo is an ancient place and it became the capital of the country in 970AD.  So, I guess that makes it a relatively recent change when you consider that there was a civilisation living here five thousand years ago!  As we drove through the city I became a bit disappointed.  I had expected something tidier and more in keeping with the aestheticism of ancient times.  What I actually saw were tumbling down buildings still being lived in, enormous concrete edifices rivalling the distant pyramids at Giza that were just visible in the haze.  Some roads that intersected with the major thoroughfare were little more than rubble tracks.  But there is clearly a program of substantial investment here as there are new buildings that were complete but complimented by a pile of builder's rubble that had never been cleared away.  Other buildings, yet to be completed, looked bereft of any care or attention with the statutory pile of builder's rubble yet to be finally added to.  The still existing old colonial buildings were dwarfed by modernism.  It was kind of sad to realise that a modern country such as this, with its foundations in such an unprecedented and advanced older civilisation should demonstrate such a lack of aesthetic realisation.
The museum was fascinating, both as a building per se and as a storehouse for wonderful things.  I wandered from room to room in absolute awe of the various treasures recovered from tombs and temples from all over the country.  There were complete sections of highly decorated plaster work along with beautiful alabaster ewers, jugs and statues carved from granite.  There were even ancient versions of snakes and ladders and a small toy that resembled the early hand held moving picture scopes.  On the first floor were the treasures from the tomb of Tut Ankh Amun.  This wasn't my first sight of the stunning death mask - I had seen it once before amidst the incredible security required for the exhibition at the British museum.  I remember pestering my parents until they finally gave in.  Second time around and I still marvelled at the splendour of Tut's funereal treasure in its rightful place.

View from MS Nefertari, moored at Ma'adi, Cairo

So, here I am, back on board the river cruiser MS Nefertari, sitting in a shady spot at the stern of the boat, watching the river.  

As Egypt is a 'No Alcohol' place I could only bring my duty free allowance with me.  In celebration of my arrival I have allowed myself one small glass of white wine.  It may not be quite as chilled as I would like, but it is most certainly savoured.  It also means that I can sit here, in quiet contemplation of my fellow travellers, marvel at the amazing day I've had and watch the setting sun gradually turn the water of the Nile to gold…

You can read more from my Egyptian Journal Here when I make a visit to the pyramids at Giza.

Jottings from the journals...

...I've been trawling through my journals again and it would appear there are some surprises still to be found, especially in Lapalisse...

The département of Allier sits in the centre of France and covers the area from just below the RN7 in the north, to Digoin in the east, Gannat in the south and just a little past Montluçon in the west.  The river after which it is named rises in the Cévennes, north east of Mende and flows north, splicing the département in half until it joins the Loire just west of Nevers.  Allier, 03 if you see it on a French number plate, is one of the four départements that make up the region of the Auvergne.  A wonderfully rugged and scenic part of the country with towns and villages of timbered houses, dense forests and its fair share of chateaux.  I'm telling you all this so that you will understand that it is not the sort of place one would expect to see an elephant.  But I did.  In fact I was so amazed by the sight that I nearly fell off my bike!

As unusual as the sighting of the elephant was - I christened her Nellie - I have to confess that, despite my long and enduring relationship with France, it never ceases to amaze me.  Crossing the Puy de Dome one Sunday and needing somewhere to eat I happened on an old farmhouse with numerous cars outside - all with French plates.  Curious, I stopped and discovered a handwritten menu pinned to the doorpost and inside half a dozen long trestle tables full of people having lunch.  And they made room for me.  The food was fabulous, the wine came by the pitcher and about three hours later I left feeling replete.

Food, of course, is central to the French psyche, which is one of the reasons why market day is important.  Despite the supermarkets, tiny villages and towns of any respectable size still have their markets.  Not so very far away in St-Pourcain you can buy anything from eggs, meat, fish, cheese etc, to clothes and hardware and you can even be introduced to the livestock, as I was.  Meet Juilliette.

But a French street market isn't just about the products for sale.  It's a place to see and be seen.  A place to meet up with friends and stand and chat about politics or the weather, once all the friendly formalities, the family pleasantries and the cheek kissing thing are all done.  The noise levels are high, the pace is very slow, but the experience incredible if you only want to sit at a table in a pavement café to people-watch and to feast your eyes on the rainbow of colour, breathe in the aromas from the fresh vegetables, the fruit, the smokiness of the hams and sausage.  Nothing smells as appetising as a typical French market.

All of which, brings me back to my original point.  With so much that is French to be surprised and fascinated by, you would have thought that, by now, I would have discovered just about everything and that the frisson of excitement on happening on something new and unusual would have long gone.  But no.  After three days of constant rain, I was out cycling the lanes of Allier and found Nellie, at lunch, by the river!

There will be more about Lapalisse in a couple of months time, so watch this space!

If you enjoyed this post you might also enjoy a visit to Briare  Falaise or Montélimar

Please welcome writer, John Hynes...

...to my blog this week.  Hello John, thanks for making time to be here.  You write the Johnny Blake series of crime stories and I'm curious to know what got you into writing and why?

JH Back in 1994, I was waiting in the doctors' office.  I started to read a crime story and I took it home to finish reading.  When I finished reading, I thought I can write a story like that, and I did.  I read it over and put it away and forgot about it.

Now retried, I found the episode Murder in Bay City and rewrote it for today's time and continue to write eleven more episodes.  I have three episodes available now on Amazon Kindle and (Google Play e-book only).

AW  Please tell me more about the individual stories themselves, John?

JH  This series is a modern-day, romantic-murder-mystery-suspense thriller, with an old-time feel.

Murder in Bay City (#1) - a wealthy man is found murdered in his bedroom.  His wife is missing and is the prime suspect.  Did she murder her husband?  Was she framed? And who is this other...?

Bay City Murder on the East Side (#2) - in this episode someone is murdering young small short-haired blonde girls.  A suspect is a young man all dressed in black complete with a hoodie and dark glasses and able to blend in with the people on the street.  In other words non-descript.

Kidnapping in Bay City (#3) - in this episode, a young boy from Bay City has been kidnapped.  After many failed attempts to bring her eight-year old son home, by Bay City Police Department, Janet Harrington, Liz Harrington's sister-in-law, hires Johnny Blake to bring her boy home on the QT.  John sends young Jimmy McNiel and Paula Peters undercover to the All-Boys in upstate Maine.

My writing has been compared to authors Mark Twain and Mickey Spillane, American crime novelist of the Mike Hammer book series, and then a TV series.  Some of your readers may remember the show.  I do and I like it

.

AW  Interesting John, thanks. I'm not sure that the Mike Hammer crime series was shown on UK TV, but I do know that author's work and have read some of his stories.  And what are you working on at the moment?

JH Vanish! (#4) - in this episode, when available, the series turns to the darker side of crime.  What is the connection between a transplant doctor, a scrap yardman, and a troll tucker driver?

You can get all of John's books on Amazon and you can use this Link for a fabulous box set of the first three episodes

You can follow John on Facebook on LinkedIn and on Twitter

Walking in Agatha's footsteps...

…I'm not running with my planned post today, as I have something far more interesting to talk about…

At the end of last month I was able to pay a visit to Greenway, in Devon.  This is the location of the fabulous house and gardens owned by Dame Agatha Christie.  If you follow this blog regularly you will undoubtedly have gathered that Agatha is one of my favourite writers.  You might also have picked up, if you've attended one of my occasional talks, that I first discovered Agatha's books at the age of about 11, and having read the first book went on to read all the rest.  So, I can honestly say that Agatha and her characters have been with me most of my life.  I still re-read her stories and, if pressed, I would have to admit that it was Agatha that got me into this crime-writing thing.

My trip to Greenway was done in a style that fully befitted the books and their author - check out the bus that my fellow travellers and I used to get there!  The house sits in the centre of beautifully planted gardens, which you can meander around.  I wanted to see the house first.

There's been a property of one sort or another on this land since the early 16th century.  Back then it was a Tudor mansion.  The house that sits here today was built in the 18th century and has since been expanded and added to over the years.  Agatha and her second husband, Max Mallowen, bought the place in 1938 to use as a holiday home.  During the 1939/45 conflict the house was taken over and used by the US Coastguard.  It became the family's again in the second half of the 1940's.

Greenway, gifted to the nation by the family, is now looked after by the National Trust and is kept in wonderful condition.  As I moved from room to room, it felt as though Agatha had just left, or was about to appear around the next corner or at the top of the stairs.  The chair and table in her spacious bedroom are there, just as she left them.  It was here that she would write when in Devon.  The library is full of her books and as I scanned the shelves I saw a complete set of what may have been arcs for her romantic suspense stories written under the name of Mary Westmacott.  I was itching to take those books off the shelf and look inside. And, if I'm totally honest, what I really wanted to do was to take all of those books and run off with them!  But I didn't.

As you move through the house there are small radios set on tables or shelves and you can hear Christie's voice as she talks about her life and her work.  It's as though you are listening to a current radio program on which she is being interviewed live.  It also makes you believe that if you walk into the next room, she will be there waiting for you.

I spent more than an hour meandering through the house, standing at the windows looking out at the garden, just as she must have done.  The rest of the afternoon was spent sauntering through the gardens, looking at the plants and flowers; the air scented with wild garlic here, the fabulous colours of the camellia borders there and the blue and yellow of the banks of bluebells and primroses. There's no wonder she believed Greenway to be 'the loveliest place in the world'…