Farewell Trip - your next Book Club choice!

I (Gary) used to be in a book club. Usually four, sometimes five, occasionally six, ex Lampeterians met up each month in a different London boozer and threw our thoughts about a book into the mix of beer, sarcasm, football and scoff. We chose some good novels along the way, and some shockers. Usually the book didn't delay us much, assuming we'd even read it, but sometimes we got our teeth into one. As I remember it the best conversations we had were on Julian Barnes's England England and John Lanchester's Mr Phillips, though I'm undoubtedly being biased as I picked both.

Now news reaches me that two separate (female) book clubs are doing Farewell Trip as their latest choice. In both cases the book has been inflicted upon the group by an ex Lampeterian, which strikes me as very pleasing indeed.

And I couldn't help thinking of things people might want to chat about over the white wine and cake when talking about Farewell Trip. How about these?



Did you treat Ruth and Trip equally or did you find yourself taking sides?

Do you think Ruth ever reads Trip's last letter?

What happens to Ruth afterwards? Is her restaurant a success? Does she speak to Laura again? Does she settle down with someone else relatively quickly?

Trip says several times he was born aged 35. Are we all born a certain age?

Who should play Ruth and Trip in either the BBC series or the Hollywood blockbuster?

Why do so few people collaborate on writing novels?


If anyone is thinking of picking our book we'd love to know how it went and what you thought. And if anyone out there wants any particular question answered before, or as a result of, their book club just message either of us. We'd be honoured to help.

How Farewell Trip got its title...

It's the 20^th anniversary of the release of Four Weddings and a Funeral, apparently. Pause whilst you wonder where your life went. Stop weeping at the back. And I was reading that it very nearly wasn't called that at all. Allegedly, it was going to be called Toffs on Heat. Or Charles and Chums. Hard to imagine it being a success with either of those titles!


I was thinking of this because of a very nice review of our book by Becca's Books in which she writes “Firstly the title. Ambiguous and I LOVE it”. I was overjoyed to read that to be honest.


The title seems so right now, but it was one of the last things we wrote. The original title of the book was Wish You Were.  Not 'Wish You Were Here', though of course we expected people to add a silent “Here” at the end. Which we then mirrored with the last line of the book – PS, so that the last thing people read was supposed to be a silent, unwritten “I Love You”. (Of course, in reality, we not only changed the title, but the proof-readers missed out the PS at the end of the novel).


So the title was Wish You Were for 95% of the time we were writing the book. My guess is most people reading the book will imagine that the title came first, and that explains why Trip has such a silly nickname. But in reality we came up with the nickname first, at least a year earlier. It was only when we were improvising a dialogue scene on Facebook chat that I used the phrase “a farewell trip” and suddenly realised that was an obvious title.

It still took a time to take hold. I was worried about using such a corny pun. Karin had become attached to the original title. I liked the original. Wish You Were what? My wife had stated constantly that she hated the name Trip. A best friend likewise. Even Karin wasn't keen.

Now, to me anyway, just as with Four Weddings and a Funeral, it feels like the book has always been Farewell Trip, was always meant to be, and could never have been anything else. And Becca's review sits nicely with that.

Names. Don't change them, it upsets me

Gary has just put on his blog a post about names and how they place us in society. http://www.garytwynam.com/writing.html. Such synchronicity! For I have been musing upon names over the past couple of months. How do we do this when living several counties away and communicating almost entirely by Facebook message? And even then all we talk about what Amazon ranking the book has achieved (5300ish at the moment, since you ask). It is weird and quite satisfying at the same time.

Anyway, the reason names have been much in my thoughts over the past couple of months is because my son went off to university in October announcing that he was going to abandon the (oh so carefully chosen) name we gave him at birth. It was too different, he said. People always commented on it, said it wrong, wondered where it came from. He was fed up with all that so he was changing it.

I jumped in, metaphorical fists flying (always the action before the thought, me) and told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to change the name I call him, whatever other people did. He was very reasonable and just shrugged, 'I didn't think you would' was his simple reply.

Part of my dislike of his changing his name is that he said it was different. Damnit! Well, that's part of the bloody reason we chose it in the first place. My own name is different, and I positively like that. When I was at secondary school there were 5 Karens in my class alone and then there was me. Thank god I'm not a Karen, I used to think smugly to myself, I'm different. Even if practically everyone I meet cannot say my name correctly. "Kar-in" I say, "hello, Karen" they reply to my face.

What has made it more difficult for me is that Malin chose Christian, one of his middle names, and is now Chris. Whenever he pops on Facebook or twitter it gives my heart a jump - my brother who died several years ago was called Chris and they now have the same name.

Upon further thought, I realised that name-changing is common in my birth family. At 11, my dad announced he was no longer to be known as Pants (a diminutive of Anthony - his real name, which nobody had ever called him) and was thenceforth to be known as John. Pretty understandable really, who wants to go to big boy school with a name like Pants? My grandparents, in a much more understanding way than me, obliged with his request and he has been John ever since.

When I think of my own reaction to Malin's choice, I'm slightly ashamed. He's his own person, why shouldn't he choose his own name? My whining answer every time I talk about it is 'but it's such a nice name and it suits him and it took us so long to find a name that fitted.'

These aren't the only instances of name-changing in my family. My mum changed her name to Grace when she was in her sixties (I think) because she felt she was a different person to the one who had been called Jacqueline, and now introduces herself as Gracie. This is okay for me, of course, because I can still call her Mum.

I've also had a couple of comments about the name Ruth, 'my' character in Farewell Trip. Apparently, there are people out there who don't like it and don't mind telling me so. Well, I have to say that when they do I feel like I would if someone had said, upon hearing my new baby's name, 'oh, I don't like that very much.'

Well, bog right off right now, if you please, and don't return until you have developed some politeness. My character, my name choice and it has nothing whatsoever to do with you!

It seems likely that people will feel the same about the names in our new venture. I was going to keep them under wraps, but maybe telling you them will allow you all to become accustomed to their difference...

Eddie Brean AKA Alex Little and Eileen Marshall.

Don't tell me you don't like them. Particularly when you haven't met them yet.

A Writer's Best Friend is a 5 Star Amazon Review

When our book was published we were told by our publishers that Amazon reviews were our top, top, marketing priority. We already had a lot of interest from friends – especially Karin who has a vast army of supporters. Mine were more "Meh, yeah but Louis Saurez – he really looks like Bernie Winters doesn't he?" This could be because most of Karin's friends are women and mine are men, or maybe because Karin gets a cancer vote, or more likely because my friends are jerks.

Anyhow, we begged them all for reviews , and 30 blessed angels responded accordingly. Indeed I happen to know that several of them loved the book, had read it even. We thank you by name nightly.

However, because we're grown-ups, grizzled old cowboys who've seen it all before, we knew that the book would not be to the taste of all our friends. So we made a big point of saying to everyone not to worry if they couldn't be bothered to buy the book, or if they bought it but didn't get on with it, or if they bought it and liked it but couldn't bear to give us 5 stars, or couldn't get round to writing a review. We would totally understand. No worries.

Well, it turns out we lied. I spent an hour this morning writing out a list of people yet to review or to falsely gush or to even make a fucking comment and it came to 19. I didn't even know I had that many friends. I facebooked Karin for a moan. Her illness has given her a gimlet-eyed clarity of judgement. Bastards she said.   

A hard look in the mirror

In an attempt to be topical rather than sadly repeating the 5 star reviews for Farewell Trip, I nearly tweeted a link from the BBC news website reporting that Tornado fighter jets have been flying with replacement parts manufactured by 3d printers. I have absolutely no idea how this could possibly be possible, nor what said parts are made of (paper? Surely not?) but it's an incredible (literally) thing to me.

In a leap of intelligence that surprised even me, I also thought if these parts are so much cheaper and easier to make than traditionally manufactured replacement parts then maybe less money could be spent on defence - aka destroying - and more money on making jobs for young people - aka creating.

Ooh hoo! There's my tweet right there!

Several minutes of careful crafting later, a tweet was ready to go. Just before pressing the send button, I noticed on the website article the sentence '73 comments' and scrolled down to read what other people who were as amazed and baffled as me had said.

Most of them weren't at all baffled. Most of them knew exactly what 3d printing is all about and they all had very strong opinions about its use for making replacement parts for fighter jets. And they weren't afraid to come right out and make their points. These were in the general vein of:

'Excellent! More money to spend on other defence projects.'
'Increase the defence budget immediately - we're about to be overrun by people with 3d printed guns.'
'3d printing is actually the devil in technological form. We're doomed. We're doomed.'
'This use of new technology methods spells the end of all traditional manufacturing in the UK.'
'Oh man! This is amazing! You can print fighter jets?! Where do I sign up?'

I would have copied some of them verbatim, but when I went back to the page they were all gone. But they had already had a signal effect on me - reading them made me rethink the wisdom of my quick tweet. These people all knew the height of their soapbox and how far it was to the ground if they were knocked off. And, quite frankly, some of them had been knocked onto their arses by better thought out arguments and better written comments.

Was I prepared to take the flak? (Sorry, just couldn't resist.) Did I have my arguments marshalled? Or was I just trying to make a point which, hopefully, would make me look dead intelligent and up-to-the-minute and political and all that? But might, if it all went pear-shaped, end with me looking and feeling like a dunce.

No contest. And no tweet.

It did, though, make me realise how concerned I am with creating a persona for my online presence - clever but not so clever that I piss people off; witty but not so witty that I get caught up in a witfest there's no way I can win; naughty enough to make people smile but not enough to offend them.

Bugger. Can I start again please?

A few thoughts - a fortnight after publication...

I've seen a lot of people over the Xmas period and obviously our book has come up in discussions – by which I mean I haven't stopped talking about it. As Lily Allen once tweeted: People say I'm self-obsessed. But enough about them. Anyway, having listened to our customer base, it's clear there are a few misunderstandings I'd like to attempt to address.



Firstly though, a huge thanks to those who have bought the book and reviewed it so nicely – you have no idea how much it means to us. And as for the people we neither of us know who have raved about it on Amazon, well that really is why we bothered to tell a story. To those of you who have bought the book and not yet read it, or have no intention of getting round to it, we thank you for our ten pence. We promise not to spend it wisely. For those of you with no interest I apologise once again for stinking up your internet without mentioning cats or food. Anne will rectify shortly.


Now for some thoughts:

1.  It is not romantic fiction. No bodices are ripped. There is no dark and handsome man with deep character faults some sadly deluded heroine/author thinks she can cure. It does not end happily. And it is not written for people with the reading age of 10. (Unless any of that is what attracted you to the book, in which case please ignore all I've just said and tuck in.) True, it is an unabashed love story, but a grown-up one for grown-ups. Ok, so it isn't One Day but that was roughly where we were aiming.

2.  It is not self-published. Yes, I realise it's not in Waterstone's, but we're at the cutting edge of future publishing, where books are digitally launched cheaply into the world to see if they will fly. The book does come with the seal of approval of one of the world's largest publishers, I promise you. We're not trying to force on you a piece of toot no-one deemed to have any merit. Not yet anyway. My Shropshire book will be self-published shortly...



3.  A 5 star review does not mean a 5 star review. I totally understand anyone who has problems with this. In a normal world even I wouldn't give Farewell Trip 5 stars. I reviewed films for fifteen years and only gave twelve films 5 stars. I've read thousands of novels and would rate fewer than ten that highly. But this is 2013. It's about PR, marketing and lies. Grade inflation is all. A four star review on Amazon doesn't mean it's a great read, one of the best books I've read for ages. It means “meh”. A three star review doesn't mean “read this book, I really liked it.” It means “what a bore”. The best way to think of a 5 star review is as the equivalent to a C Grade A-Level in 1983. And we really do need 5 star reviews if we're to get any traction. So can I ask those of you struggling with that conundrum to put 'helping friends' first and 'critical honesty' second. If it does reach an audience, and we need your help with that, don't worry there will be plenty of people out there ready to redress any grade imbalance.


4.  Yes, of course I wrote all the dirty bits.


Thanks.

The ninja of patience strikes back

I was moaning to The Patient One (aka Mr W) yesterday about blogging and how flippin hard it is.

"I really want to write posts," I alas and alacked to him "but I just don't have any original thoughts or ideas. Moan, moan, blah, blah..."

"Well, I think you probably do have ideas, but you don't recognise them as such." Explained The Patient One, patiently.

"Gary's really good at it and it's not fair and it's too hard." I self-pitied. "Moan, moan, blah, blah."

"Moan, moan and blah, blah to you too. Halt the pathetitude right now. It doesn't suit you."

I stuck my tongue out. The Patient One refused to succumb and rolled his eyes instead.

"Anyway, writing blogs aren't real writing. It's such a waste of time when I could be getting Eileen into a spot of bother with two gun-toting baddies." I gave it some welly with the pathetic face. To no avail. The Patient One has deep reserves and only gently advised me.

"Why don't you do what you do when you're doing real writing then?  Give yourself a time limit and just do it?"

God, don't you hate sensible advice? Especially when delivered by a ninja of patience. I responded with the usually infallible Eeyore face. That magnificence of a sad, misunderstood, world's against me and I can't do anything about it face.

"But Gary's so good and I'm so rubbish..."

"Oh for gods sake, stop bloody moaning and get on with it. You've written five novels, you can't tell me a simple blog post is beyond you."

Final score - Eeyore face 1 : The Patient One 0

Farewell Trip and onwards

Farewell Trip on sale here!

And here!

And so here we are. Carina UK has published our novel and it currently nestles inside the top 5000 in the Amazon best-seller charts! To infinity and beyond.

Early feedback has been lovely. I can't help but think it's only a matter of time till the naysayers and trolls arrive. Still, who cares? Some people I respect greatly have said how much they enjoyed it and how well written it was. That's enough for me.

For “two real writers awaiting validation” it feels like the end of the journey, or the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning, or something. I'm fairly sure TS Eliot and Churchill put it better.

So we've decided to change the title of the blog, as you'll see. We feel validated and a big thank you to everyone who made that possible.

Instead let's get on with being real writers. Which as best as I can work out means moaning incessantly about a writer's life – problem publishers, absent editors, the lack of sales, the fake smiling at the success of others, the whole creative process, darling.

Can't wait...

The Last Line of a Novel. Is it Important?

Our lovely Carina editor sent us through a copy of our book, exactly as it is to be e-published on Tuesday. It's a free copy to be distributed to bloggers and reviewers – in fact we are under strict instructions to give it to anyone willing to put a 5 star review up on Amazon in exchange. So anyone easily bribed, do let us know!

So, I spent a few hours reading my own book on Kindle, which is more than I have anyone else's book. And it seems to scrub up OK. I don't know if I've just read and rewritten the start so many times that I'm blind to it, or whether it just took us 50 pages to find our voice and stride, but the book doesn't seem to get going until Paris. But then it definitely goes boom, or kapow, or at the very least a little bit whee and pop.

I was actually quite gripped by some of the later bits - Karin's stuff mainly, some of which I'm not entirely sure I'd read before. That's teamwork for you, the Twynam way. I even cried at a bit.

And so I reached the end thinking, oh well it may disappear without trace, but I'm pretty pleased with it. Woody Allen is famously dismissive of his films. He says they never come out how he saw them in his head. Broadway Danny Rose did, but little else. Well, I'd say this came out even better than I saw it in my head, sketching it out when walking on the Long Mynd with Anne about two years ago and for that Karin should be mighty proud.

The only thing is, I reached the end and they've missed out the very last line. I think a proof-reader has been over zealous. It is a strange line. The book still makes sense without it and I rather think that's how it may be published until or if we can rectify it. If it is, I'll share the proper last line exclusively here! Or run a competition so you can guess it.

A Orange Egg

It seems ridiculous that even though I'm at home all day, I just can't get any writing done. I don't only mean writing on our current book (a crime story called Got It For A Song, for your information), but writing posts for this blog or my cancer one (http://karindixon.blogspot.co.uk) as well.

The problem, of course, is Facebook. And Twitter. And Snapchat. And emails. And Facebook. And Twitter. And Snapchat. And emails. And Facebook. And... You get the picture.

One day last week I got up at 9:00, made myself breakfast (a mug of English Breakfast tea and Mr W's homemade rye bread toast with marmite and homemade gooseberry jam, if you're interested), took it back up to bed and settled in for a good long writing spell. Three hours later, the cat started scratching to get out of the bedroom and I was still scrolling up and down my newsfeed clicking on every shared post just in case I hadn't already seen it.

Three hours! On bloody Facebook!

That was the point I knew I had to take control. Not only was my writing productivity suffering, but I  have a free Lovefilm offer till January 14th and I'm only on halfway through series 2 of the 8 series of Spooks...

And so, I consulted my resident Person With Good Ideas. "Easy-peasy. We can solve your conundrum easily and cheaply. Let's go."

So off we went. To a very lovely kitchen shop. Yep, you heard right, a kitchen shop was going to solve my social media addiction. Novel idea, but I was willing to give it a go. And this is what my Person With Good Ideas found: 

A Orange Egg

A Orange Egg is male (something about being too competitive if he was female, which is weird, but there you are). He is a delightful colour exactly the same as this plump tangerine and when I twist his little Orange Eggy head he ticks charmingly until he reaches my chosen time and then his whole little Orange Eggy body rings and shakes to tell me in his sweet Orange Eggy way that I must turn off the broadband.

We began our collaboration as writing partners this morning and it has been amazing. A Orange Egg says stop and I stop, without even a "Just a sec, A Orange, just need to do th...". Productivity has soared (viz, this post) and I have a whole evening free for Peter Firth, Keeley Hawes and Matthew McFadyen. Score!

Farewell Trip - cover and publication date

Exciting times. The book has a release date - 12th December - just in time for Christmas. And a rather natty cover, as you can see.

The cover has been interesting. When we were considering self-publishing I asked my niece, who is studying art for A Level, to have a go at designing one. From our suggestions, she came up with a rather nice picture of a woman reading a letter with Paris as a backdrop.

Later on someone sent us a "secret photo" of what was supposedly our cover, a shadowy picture of an outline of a woman silhouetted against an autumnal tree. We were pretty pleased with that to be honest.

But we're mighty chuffed with this final one, which goes well beyond the obvious. Just a shame we won't be able to hold it in our hands.

Getting close...

Advice for the young at heart

I'm a rubbish blogger. I do very much like the idea of expounding to all and sundry about my inner musings and like even better the idea that someone might find it moderately entertaining.  However, inner musings don't much occur, other than those crucial ones about which type of tea to make (builder's, redbush... Ummmm, builder's, redbush) or whether it's cold enough to justify turning the heating on.

You may be interested to know Mr W's questions to be answered before so doing are 1) how many jumpers do you have on? 2) how many pairs of socks are you wearing? 3) hat? (Not as Scroogey as it sounds, remember I am bald as the proverbial) 4) jumping jacks?  If the answers do not match or exceed 2, 2, yes and 20, the heating stays firmly off. Or not.

However, I digress (if you only knew the joy it gives me to actually write that sentence. No idea why, but it fills me with delight), as I said, I'm a crap blogger.  What's worse is that it means Gary is left with the miserable task of finding something to write upon.

Luckily, as you can see, his mind has plenty of inner musings and they're interesting ones too.  Anyway, my inner musings only conspicuous by their absence, I offer to you a choice morsel from Gary's delicious poetry volume, Silly Verse for Grown Ups.  It's advice he has passed on to loinfruit #1 and #2 much in the manner of a god-dad. Which they don't have but if they did, it would be him.


In The Name Of Love

Isobel, over the centuries not much has changed;
The most important thing about a man remains his name.

Take, for example, a man named Ralph.
Don't date him if he rhymes with Alph.
But if he tells you he's called Rafe,
Fellate him first then make him wait.

Want to meet someone who's as sound as pounds,
Head for a bar in the best part of town;
Shout out Torquil and when someone turns round,
Go and say Oh, there you are. It's your round...

Forget all that nonsense about love, what a bore;
It's a myth put around to keep poor people poor.
And whatever you do, please don't marry
A loser with a name like Stephen or Gary.

Farewell Trip - an update

We've gone quiet of late, stuck as we are between contract and publication. And stuck as Karin is in hospital. So here's an update.

Things are moving behind the scenes. We have completed a structural edit based on feedback from our Carina editors. Their feedback was brilliant - both encouraging and constructive. We've come to realise that the book takes a while to ignite. Until Paris, in fact, the fourth chapter, some 50 pages in. We've tried to fix this as best we can.

I was reading that Amazon/Kindle already has the capability to tell authors at what points readers stop reading their book. That's a mixture of fascinating and terrifying I'd have thought. Future authors will be treated differently. Early drafts will be subject to Kindle focus groups. The readership of the first week's sales will be scrutinised, not by number, not by 5 star reviews,  but by page clicks. "27% of readers are giving up on chapter 3, 18% skipping chapter 4 entirely, and only 2% reading in one sitting. On the plus side, the sex scene in chapter 14 is getting plenty of re-reads."


Anyway, ahead of such a brave new world, we've sent in our dedications, biographies and photos. Next step - some poor soul is to do a copy-edit. We've thrown it back and forth between the two of us so many times it's a hell of a mess. That's our excuse anyway. We wish them luck.                      

No Pasaran

Several people have told me I should be proud of writing a novel. And they're not talking about quality, they're talking about quantity. They mean I should be proud of sitting down and writing a story 75000 words long.

Let's ignore for the moment that this isn't even true. (It was Karin that put in the hard narrative yardage, churning out the chapters, whilst I dicked about on a couple of pages of dialogue.) In reality it's no great accomplishment in itself. It isn't that hard, is it? Write 1000 words a day, and you could have weekends off and still have finished a novel in three months. No bother. You only have to look online to see how many people have managed it.

I say this because a friend accomplished something last week that I really do think is noteworthy, in the field of artistic endeavour.

He staged an operetta about the Spanish Civil War called No Pasaran. To achieve this, he wrote all the music and lyrics (35 songs), auditioned and managed a a cast of 20, plus a group of flamenco dancers, choreographed the whole show, organised the live band, shot some “war footage” to project across the action, was the stage-manager, and even popped up to sing a lament at the end. Oh and he was on the door selling tickets.

Think of that next time you're looking at a blank page.

Casting the TV series, take 2

"Ooh, casting the TV series, what fun!" I thought, reading Gary's post below.

Well, I was wrong, it's not fun, it's  frustrating.  The problem is that the only TV I watch is the Great British Bake Off (Ruby, anyone?) and the last few weeks of Strictly when it's dark outside and the fire's on.  Although I have to confess to switching on and enjoying Agents of SHIELD this week, but none of the actors stood out.

I like Anne and Gary's three possibilities for the older Trip, although would plump for either one of Jack Davenport or Stephen Mangan before the too posh Julian Rhind-Tutt - have never seen Trip as a blond.    Of the three, Stephen Mangan gets my vote.  (And Gazza and I did cast him earlier during one of our writing get togethers, which he appears to have forgotten.  But then both of us have forgotten who was Ruth.)

Having never seen Louise Delamere act, it's hard to tell if she's Ruthie, certainly she has the right looks.  More importantly, she has the right husband.  Gotta adore that idea!  I've always fancied Keeley Hawes could make the role hers, but frankly the married couple trump her.

Older Trip = Stephen Mangan
Older Ruth = Louise Delamere

Sorted.

Now the frustration.  The younger versions of Ruth and Trip.

Karen Gillen just ain't doing it for me.  Too, I don't know, too long-legged, too big-eyed, too...just too everything.  Haven't been able to choose a substitute though - feel free to make suggestions below.  In fact, I implore you, make suggestions below so I don't have to go with Gillen.

Joe Thomas for Trip?  Not a clue about him and have nobody to suggest as an alternative, so young Trip he will be.

Younger Ruth = to be confirmed
Younger Trip = Joe Thomas

Hmmmm, not as satisfying an exercise as it could have been.  If you've read the first couple of chapters - here they are http://garytwynamandkarindixon.blogspot.co.uk/p/wish-you-were-excerpt.html - give us your views.

You never know, it might be important in the future...

Casting the TV Series...

Farewell Trip was actually born on a Sunday morning walk on the Long Mynd with Anne and Bobby. A couple of years have passed and on this morning's walk we indulged ourselves in casting the film. It seems a good time to enjoy our dreams. Whilst we can, before a cold world turns its back in indifference. Besides, what writer/dreamer hasn't done this at some time or other? Karin, of course, will have her own, entirely different, wish-list.

The film will obviously be relocated to America, which means every location would have to change and we focused more on that than on the cast-list.

So Lampeter could become Madison, Wisconsin
Cornwall – Crater Lake, Oregon
Shropshire – Nevada
Paris – Seattle
New York – London and vice versa
Bar Harbour – Northumberland
Reigate – somewhere posh and dull in New England
and Bristol – Portland, Oregon.


Casting the BBC2/Channel 4 series was much easier. Karen Gillan and Joe Thomas for the earlier versions and, as the older Ruth, Louise Delamere, (she was Lia in No Angels). We were arguing over Julian Rhind-Tutt (looks the part – easy segue from Joe Thomas – but slightly too posh) and Stephen Mangan (would be great for the audio book, and speaks very movingly about Macmillan nurses, but doesn't look right).

We'd settled on Rhind Tutt. Well apart from Anne's insistence Jack Davenport got the part, which Bobby ignored in favour of a nice piece of sheep poo. On getting home I googled Louise Delamere to see what she'd been doing lately, only to find she's married to Stephen Mangan. Which was something of a clincher...

Unless you know better...

VALIDATION!

We're going have to change the title of this blog because... wait for it...wait for it...

We've got a publisher for Farewell Trip!

Yep, you read right.  We're real writers now.  Flippin' amazing, huh?

Carina UK is the new digital imprint of Harlequin (which sells in the trad romance genre).  Carina has a wider brief and what looks like brilliant marketing.  Farewell Trip will be available as e-book on their website and Amazon.  Several of their books have made it to the top 10 of the Amazon e-book bestsellers list.

We hope it will be published in 12 or weeks - watch out for it in a Christmas stocking near you...

What a week, eh?

Self promotion?

I have been more than a little embarrassed today.  As you can see below, there is an article in this week's Woman's Own about me. With pictures and everything.

Yep, embarrassing.  It's not the baldy head picture that's the issue. I'm not at all bothered about that.

You see, the whole thing was never meant to be about me.

We were tiptoeing along the path of promoting Farewell Trip and finding an agent.  Trying to find something different about our book (other than the plot, characters and voice, of course), we decided to use what we saw as our two USPs.  Firstly, that Gary and I had written it in collaboration and from a distance.  And secondly, that since the book is about a man who has terminal cancer, the fact I had secondary cancer might be an interesting angle.  So, in every approach to an agent we made and in great hope, we mentioned these things.  To be frank, nobody seemed very interested.

However, we have been incredibly lucky in our friends, several of whom have put themselves out no end to help us get the novel out into the world. Jenny (amongst a myriad other things) put me in touch with Heart, an agency which finds, writes and sells true-life stories to magazines.

It's odd to find that one's own life story is apparently of enough interest to warrant a double page spread in a national magazine, but Christabel (the writer) convinced me she could place the story.  She was right.  She did a great job weaving in Farewell Trip too, but warned me that it's almost unheard of for a magazine to give a novel a plug, so not to expect them to print the blog address or anything like it.

But they did and maybe you're reading this because of that link.  If so, leave a comment on the post or (even better) at the bottom of the extract of Farewell Trip.  Gary and I would really like to know what you think of the book.

Creative differences...

Karin e-mailed me the other day. “Are we having our first author argument?”

Which is pretty amazing when you think about it. Two fairly headstrong souls, one of whom - and I'll leave you to guess which – has spent their life accused of not being a team player, coming together to do something profoundly creative and, by its very nature, individualistic. And effectively completing it without once ever raising their voices or simmering with passive aggressive resentment. Respect to us.

We're meeting up Wednesday to thrash out this utterly trivial difference of opinion. (Me: Description, who needs it? Her: Everyone who's read the book). And even in this instance we aren't even having an argument.

Which does beg the question. Would our novel be better if we were?

Woman's Own

I don't know how many of you will be interested by this next bit of news, but it's very nice to have something purely positive to say for once...

We have been doing some work behind the scenes to get the book published and, as luck would have it, we've managed to bag some publicity along the way. Woman's Own magazine are publishing a 'true life' story about Karin - how the novel came about as well as some stuff on cancer.

The article will be published on September 24th. Do take a look if you're curious!