Scribble City Central

Captain Beastlie is Born

2012-01-30T08:30:00.003Z

When you see the first pictures for one of your stories, it's always an amazing moment. One minute you have words on a page, and the next, someone else has brought them to a life in full colour. This is the moment, for me, that a book is really born. I've been itching to talk about Captain Beastlie for ages - he's been living in my head for years, every stinking, rotten, grubby inch of him. I've no idea where he came from - probably the thwarted pirate inside me. But of course, until he was properly announced by his lovely publisher, I couldn't. Anyway, he's now up on the Nosy Crow website in all his full glory, as imagined by amazing artist Chris Mould, with whom it is a privilege to be working. When I first saw his roughs last week, I did a small jig of joy. Now I've seen the first colour picture, I'm even more cock-a-whoop. Chris has imagined Captain B better than I ever could, and put in some extra specially revolting touches as well. Even though this book isn't out till April 2013, I'm already mega-excited about it. If you'd like to read more about my grimsome, gruesome pirate, the link is

HERE

Science Matters....

2012-01-17T13:00:00.002Z

Today, I'm over at An Awfully Big Adventure (the writers' blog cooperative I belong to), talking about my newly fledged fascination with science (as well as my appalling ignorance of it), and how it all ties in with writing. A little soupCERN of Higgs-Boson, anyone?

READ THE POST HERE

Scribble City Central's Predictions for the Writing Year - 2012

2012-01-10T09:00:00.002Z

Once again, Happy New Year to my Lovely Blog Readers. As ever, I've been gazing into my crystal ball on your behalf to bring you my predictions for the coming year. I did a pretty good job of it last year, though I say it myself. If you're doubtful about my veracity, you can read what I forecast for 2011 HERE.

So what's new for 2012, apart from the UK Olympics, the inexorable rise of China, the continuing economic decline...and the coming of Doomsday with the end of the Mayan Long Calendar on 21st December? Well, here goes - this is what I think will happen in the next 12 months.

Writing and Politics

The Government doesn't like writers much. We're too fond of pointing out the uncomfortable truth to people like Ed Vaizey and Jeremy Hunt. PLR dropped last year, and the very efficient department administering it has become a victim of the cuts. I predict a further drop and less efficiency. Despite brave and tenacious legal battles, libraries are dying like flies, and the situation continues to worsen for reading and readers everywhere, with both independents and chains feeling the chill winds of closure. It's not going to get any better this year either - there'll be more shock shutdowns everywhere, and I'm certain that the demise of the euro (yes, I'm definitely predicting that) will affect us all. However, if we get enough people on the streets on National Libraries Day on February 4th, maybe we can turn things round for the libraries at least. Put the date in your diary, please! (Unfortunately, I also predict that library campaigner Alan Gibbons will not be getting an OBE in 2012 - though he damn well should). School budgets are massively down too, so I'm certain that author visit bookings will become rarer than hens' teeth. I think that writers will have to become much more political this year. We can't just stand on the sidelines and watch - we have to shout even more loudly at the people who are depriving children of their reading potential. We must harness our anger and focus it effectively.

Writing and Social Media:

Facebook is on a downward trend in my opinion (too many changes), and Twitter will increasingly become the social media tool of choice for most writers - especially for YA authors, as more and more teens are joining up, and can be reached directly. But beware! It's not a direct selling tool for books. More authors will also join the Linked In bandwagon, though most will be bewildered by what it actually achieves for writers (not a lot, currently). YouTube will become bigger than ever, with a book trailer becoming the norm and not the exception (actually, that's already happened). As publishers' budgets are stripped still further, authors are once again going to have to cooperate in 'putting themselves out there' via social media in order to promote and sell books (even more so than previously). If you haven't yet built a social media presence, for goodness' sake do it now - the future of books is definitely on the internet, however much we all love the paper versions. Writers themselves will become more powerful as a group - social media has proved revolutionary in this respect already - and we will all be grateful for the support of our peers in the difficult times ahead. This will possibly make publishers increasingly nervous! Writers and artists talking to one another? Whatever next?

Writing and Technology:

Last year I said that 'this will be the year when e-books rock the public perception of reading'. Er, was I right? I think so! With Kindle sales through the roof, and e-books overtaking print books by a considerable margin, technology is careering ahead, sometimes leaving publishers behind and floundering in the tailwind of its rise. Many more already established authors will learn to 'Kindle' their books this year - some self-publishing out of frustration and some providing 'add-ons' to existing traditionally published work in the form of stories or novellas. The buzzwords for 2012 will be 'added content'. Despite the many 'blog tours' out there for book promotion, I'm predicting a backlash against them from unpaid book bloggers fed up with the inexorable timetable, which requires them to read and comment on books at a frantic rate. Authors will increasingly become available for Skype school visits, which will open up a global audience for their work, thus making it even more important to have work available in e-formats. The good news is that teens (GenY) are reading on their smartphones. The technology for moving picture books to e-books will race ahead still further, becoming cheaper and easier to programme, and small children will be able to interact with their favourite characters as a matter of course via apps, and busy parents will turn to iPads and tablets even more as readers of bedtime stories. Pirating is already a real problem for authors, and that's only going to get worse. Copyright theft should be addressed urgently this year, but effective measures are unlikely to come quickly. I also predict more approaches from foreign e-packagers (Korea, China, the USA) looking for material for those of us who have out-of-print picture books lying about doing nothing.

Writing and Publisher Deals:

Oh dear! I don't want to be the Prophet of Doom here...but it's not going to be easy to get a contract for anyone. Advances, as I predicted for 2011, are down hugely, and the art of the good synopsis will be increasingly essential. It will be very unlikely that first (or even third) time authors will get a deal for anything less than a full manuscript, which means time and energy spent with no assurance of a positive outcome. Paranormal will still be hot in YA, but it'll have to have a very different spin to get published at all. History is going to be hard to sell for all but a few, and dystopia is still there, but again, it will have to have real quality to be bought. Frankfurt was good in 2011, and I'm predicting a frantic selling Bologna for those lucky ones with a deal. London Book Fair too will be busy, and it is shaping up to be much more 'author friendly' for children's writers especially this year, with lots of interesting seminars going on. It's not all bad news for writers, though, with new independent publishers like Nosy Crow and Hot Key Books popping up and commissioning. There are also more competitions out there for new and unpublished writers, which can be a route to publication. I'd say don't despair, but be realistic this year. Don't give up - it is going to get better eventually (though I won't say soon), and the Americans are buying again at last. That has to be good news!

Writing and...me:

Quite honestly, though I wasn't saying so, I was bricking it this time last year. I had no contracts in view, and the view wasn't all that rosy. However, my 2011 was better than I could ever have dreamed. I've got back into the picture book market with two new books coming from Nosy Crow and Bloomsbury in 2013, about which I'm delighted, and Lovely Agent has sold a middle-grade mythological series of novels to the USA, also for 2013. So it was a good year - and I've finished my YA novel, about which I hope to have good news soon. So although 2012 brings no publication dates, I have some deadlines to stick to (three contracted books to write), more picture books to come up with, and a lot of fingers in bookish pies (about which more in due course). I'm also taking part in the brand new Chipping Norton Literary Festival, planning for the second ABBAlitfest, doing a few school visits and, most exciting of all, going to Bologna Book Fair for the first time ever in March. It's going to be an amazing year of writing for me, and I'll be keeping you all posted either here or on Twitter about any developments.

Once again thanks for sticking with me, Lovely Blog Readers - I am so grateful to you all for your comments and participation here, and I promise there'll be a Big Blog Announcement about a brand new series of author interviews on Scribble City Central very soon. Watch this space - I'm plotting and planning for your delight even as I write this. Do tell me your own writing predictions, hopes and dreams for 2012 - I'd love to hear from you.

New Look 2012 Scribble City Central goes Live!

2012-01-05T15:29:00.000Z

I am excited to announce that the redesign of Scribble City Central is now complete, thanks to the amazing Lori Lawson of Imagination Blog Designs. Do let me know what you think of it!

In other news, there'll be plenty of fabulously fantastical writing-related stuff coming up in 2012, including a brand new series of author interviews, so watch this space.

Happy New Year to you all, and I look forward to seeing you back here soon!

Scribble City Central's Best Books of 2011

2011-12-29T17:10:00.000Z

Best Books of 2011? How on earth to choose? I've read so many wonderful books this year - 2011 has been a veritable treasure-house of offerings. There have been new novels from authors who are already favourites of mine, and I've also had the exciting adventure of reading great debuts from new writers who I know will be favourites of the future. The books I've chosen here are ones which have stuck in my memory for one reason or another - and from me that is the ultimate compliment. I read very very fast indeed, and don't tend to retain much. If I did, my brain would overload and explode. I make no apologies for the fantasy-heavy bias - that's what I enjoy most, and this list is about what has given me most pleasure. So, without further ado, and in no particular order (except alphabetically by author), here are my choices for 2011....

Cold Magic (Spiritwalker 1) by Kate Elliott
This is the first in a new adult fantasy series from an American writer I've rated highly for a long time. I've enjoyed watching her style develop and mature with each series she writes, and I particularly liked this book because, while the quasi-Victorian/Industrial Revolution world she has created is still rich and full of colour and imagination, I felt that this time she reined back on the tendency to overcomplicate her plots, which sometimes make her earlier books harder work than they need to be. I'm always a fan of strong, rebellious female characters (being a rebel myself), and Cat Barahal spoke to me very strongly indeed. Kate Elliott mixes together the Wild Hunt, ruthless mages, dragons, and a new kind of magic in a brew which I'm eager to taste further. The second book, Cold Fire is out now, and I'm off to indulge my Kindle habit!

The Scottish Prisoner (A Lord John Grey Novel) by Diana Gabaldon
Diana Gabaldon's Jacobite hero, Jamie Fraser has been my guilty pleasure for many years. This is not one of the 'main' novels about him, but rather covers the years when he is employed as a groom in the Lake District after he is released from prison. I'm not, in general, such a fan of the spin-off series about Lord John Grey, but the moment I heard that Jamie featured largely in this one, I knew I would be hooked, and how right I was. You know how satisfying it is when an author fills in backstory details about one of your favourite characters? Well, that. The writing here is as good as the early books, and I'd recommend it as a morsel to satisfy those of us who are waiting hungrily for Diana to give us the big finish of Jamie's series sometime in the distant future! If you haven't yet encountered the Outlander books, then do read the first two at least before you delve into this one. I promise you're in for a treat. Go and buy them immediately (but only if you like historical romance with a bit of time-travel thrown in, and a seriously adult hot hunk of kilted wonderfulness). Told you it was a guilty pleasure!

David by Mary Hoffman
Why this wonderfully imagined tale of the boy who was Michelangelo's model for the eponymous statue has not been on every prize list this year, I cannot fathom. 2011 Book Prize judges, are you listening? You are clearly barking not to have included it. Not only does Mary write quite beautifully and tell a gripping tale but by golly she knows her Italy and her history. When she was a guest on SCC earlier in the year, this is what I said:

After reading Mary's marvellous book, [David] exists inside my head, 3D still, but reincarnated as a living, breathing, gloriously beddable Renaissance boy called Gabriele. To be honest with you, dear readers, I could go on about this book for hours. Not only is it a marvellously plotted story, taking known historical facts and interweaving them with nuggets of possibility into a seamless whole, but it also rekindled my long-buried interest in art history. It made me look at Michelangelo's sculpture in a whole new light, made me, as a writer, think as well about the hidden things behind all art--the myriad histories lost in time and waiting for a teller to give them life.

I haven't changed my mind. Read it. You won't be disappointed.

Graveminder by Melissa Marr
I suppose you could call this a zombie novel, which is why it is all the more extraordinary that I am including it in this list. Anybody who knows me even slightly will be aware that I loathe zombies like the plague. But what Marr has done with this novel is a laudable feat of re-imagining the genre, and I salute her for it (whilst still shuddering gently). Rebekkah Barrow is the reluctant inheritor of her grandmother Maylene's post as Graveminder to the small town of Claysville, where the dead are walking, unquiet and needing to be laid to rest. This is a new departure for Marr, best known for her Wicked Lovely faery series, and I will be fascinated to see where she takes Rebekkah's story next.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
SCC's BOOK OF THE YEAR
You knew there'd be at least one Greek myth-based novel in here, didn't you? This is one of the best retellings I've read in years (if not ever), and that's why I'm making it my Book of the Year. For a debut novel, it's extraordinary - and I think we may have a new Mary Renault on our hands here. Yes, she's really that good. Miller has brought alive the old story of Achilles and Patroclus (the book is told from Patroclus's point of view), and given it a fresh and interesting angle. She clearly knows her Homer and associated sources, but what I really appreciated was the deft, spare beauty of the writing itself. I hope Bloomsbury know what a treasure they've got here, and I'm hoping this one will win prizes in 2012. It surely deserves to. If you only buy a single book on this list, make it this one.

How to Be A Woman by Caitlin Moran
The only autobiographical entry in my list, and definitely my favourite non-fiction read of the year. I came across this on Twitter early on in its life, thought I'd give it a go, and laughed my socks off. If there's a bible for the New Feminism, then this is it. Also, I'm entirely with Moran in the matter of the awfulness of high heels. This is definitely my most-given-away book of 2011 (to date I've bought 18 copies*), and Lovely Daughter and friends are all talking about it as well - it's definitely polarised opinion among the teens in my life. This is one I shall return to many times. (*Caitlin - where's my commission?!)

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
Without doubt, this one gets the SCC prize for Most Beautiful Book of 2011, with its sumptuous design and black-edged pages. It's also a damn good read, and a book I just can't stop thinking about. Surreal scenes from the circus of its title flash across my brain like jewelled hummingbirds, exploding into sparks and snowflakes. It is unique, original fantasy storytelling at its best, and if Erin Morgenstern can come up with a second novel with as much wow factor as this one has, I shall be positively jealous of her talent! Fantastical stuff, quite literally.

The Opposite of Amber by Gillian Philip
I've been spoilt for choice by Gillian in 2011, what with this one, and also the second in her marvellous Rebel Angels series, Bloodstone, featuring the fascinating faery brothers Seth and Conal MacGregor, who I've talked about lovingly elsewhere in these pages. However, in this book, Gillian has tackled a difficult subject (teenage prostitution) with great sensitivity. I already knew she was a great writer. I know it more now, and The Opposite of Amber had me so gripped from start to finish that I am surprised my fingernails survived the tension. Here's what I wrote about it in my original review:

This is a brave, wonderful novel which should not just be read by teenagers. It should be read by everyone who cares about making sure that the many real-life girls like Jinn who find themselves in situations similar to this can get help and support and above all knowledge that they absolutely can have other choices in their lives. Buy it for yourself, buy it for others. A real 5* book.

Once again, I haven't changed my mind, and that's why it's here.

The Wise Man's Fear (Kingkiller Chronicle 2) by Patrick Rothfuss
I'd put Patrick Rothfuss in the Robert Jordan, George RR Martin, Melanie Rawn school of epic fantasy. If the first book in this series (The Name of the Wind) was good, then the second is even better. The canvas is broad, the imagination on a similar scale, and I particularly like the central framework of Kvothe's inn as the pivot around which the whole story revolves. There's a sort of zen-like quality to him which reminds me of 'Young Grasshopper's' teachers, Master Po and Master Kan in the Kung Fu movies. Rothfuss is just a damn good storyteller - the only complaint I have is that I want to read on, and I can't, because the next book won't be out for aeons. However, as a fellow writer, I understand that it takes time for fantasy worlds to brew and come to the boil, so I forgive him. If you are a patient sort, do try him out - I think this series will be seen as a classic in years to come.

The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater
This is one of the most recently published on this list, but I know I'll remember it for a long time. I liked Stiefvater's debut series about shapechanging wolves, but this one is in a league of its own (and is, I think, a standalone book). Kelpies have always fascinated me, and I'm clearly not alone. The particular kelpies in this YA novel are fierce, bloodthirsty - and they sometimes demand the ultimate price from those human jockeys who dare to take part in the Scorpio Races on the shore between land and sea. Stiefvater's love for and knowledge of horses shines through, and that, together with a bad boy hero and feisty heroine makes for a page-turning read. I could almost smell the salt and feel the wind on top of the cliffs, and the whole thing has the feel of the wild Western Isles of Scotland. It's nice when an author rings the changes so successfully and doesn't just write the same old same old. I was really impressed with this one.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor
Much has been written about this book, and much praise heaped upon it. Deservedly so, in my opinion, and also in that of Lovely Daughter, who was up all night finishing it (a rare accolade for her). Once again, it is the richness of Taylor's language which impresses, as well as a superbly imagined story. The way she uses words make me feel as if I've eaten a medieval banquet in a sumptuous room hung with brightly woven tapestries - kind of full and satisfied in both body and spirit. I had the same sense when I read her 2009 novel for younger readers, Blackbringer, so it's definitely a hallmark of her writing. This one just missed out on being SCC's Best Book of 2011, but only by a whisker. I think Taylor has a rare talent, and I look forward to more banquets of words from her in the years to come.

That's my Eleven for 2011 - I hope some of them will entice you to read them . A very Happy New Year and very best wishes to all my Dear Readers when 2012 makes its appearance on Sunday, and thank you all for sticking with me this year. Scribble City Central is in the process of having a blog facelift, so watch out for an exciting new look in January!

Guest Post - The Weird and Wonderful World of Synaesthesia by Nicola Morgan

2011-12-07T08:30:00.002Z

I'm delighted to have the inimitably Crabbit Nicola Morgan here today to talk about synaesthesia, which is the subject of her just-republished debut novel, Mondays are Red. I first came across synaesthesia in the US paranormal TV series Heroes, in which one of the characters, Emma, is a form of synaesthete, and sees music as colour. I wanted to know more, but somehow never got around to finding out. Luckily Nicola has enlightened my ignorance, both here, and in her book, which I finished a couple of weeks ago. Nicola's rich imagery both made my imagination take off like a rocket and made me want to lick her words, which drip off the page like melted chocolate. If I'd written a debut novel like this, I'd be bloody proud of myself - and so should she be! Do read it - it's marvellous. Anyway, enough of me. Welcome to Scribble City Central, Nicola, and over to you! Make yourself comfortable... *pops a celebratory cork*

Hello, Lucy, and thank you for letting me visit your lovely blog today. Excuse me while I remove my shoes and wriggle my toes a bit. So, where’s the fizz? Ah, there. Cheers!

So, synaesthesia. You’d like me to talk a bit about it. Since it’s one of my favourite topics, I’d be delighted!

What is it?

First, it’s NOT a medical condition or a negative thing. Second, almost everyone who has it has had it since birth, so they don’t know anything different. Often they don’t even know they have “something” that makes them different from the rest of us.

Yes, but what IS it, you annoying woman?

Well, it’s when two (usually, but occasionally more ) senses are oddly combined. The most common combination is hearing combined with seeing colours. So when you hear a particular sound you “see” a colour. Everyone with synaesthesia is different, but here are some examples of things that might happen:

Certain sounds could make colours – for example when you hear particular musical notes or musical instruments, you see certain colours.
Letters and numbers could have colours. If, for example, the letter ‘a’ was pink for you and ‘p’ was black, but ‘l’ was blue and ‘e’ butter yellow, the word ‘apple’ would produce all those colours.
Similarly, days of the week (and months) could produce colours. That’s possibly the most common form of synaesthesia.
Sounds could have shapes or tastes. One man talks of going to buy an ice-cream and finding that the voice of the ice-cream seller put such foul tastes in his mouth that he couldn’t face buying an ice-cream!
Tastes could have shapes. In The Man Who Tasted Shapes, by Richard Cytowic, he tells of eating at someone’s house and the host talking about the chicken needing more spikes. (I can relate to this hugely.)

There’s more info here.

How do I know if I’ve got it?

Well, if you see yourself in any of those descriptions, you probably have. But there are some “rules” to establish if it’s true synaesthesia.

The sensations must be physical and automatic. You would not have to think about them. For example, I can relate to giving shapes to tastes (and colours to sounds) but I can only do this by thinking, “What shape would salt be?” And I know it would be slightly curved, rounded, and warm. BUT, I’m doing this by thinking and it’s not an automatic reaction, but a cerebral one, taking into account meanings and sounds and everything. I do not have true synaesthesia. (When I visit Mary Hoffman’s blog on Dec 9th, I’ll show how most of us can “do” synaesthesia and how we can use it as a powerful writing tool.)
The sensations must be the same every time. If Mondays are red to you today, they won’t be blue next week.
You will be able to describe the sensations in extreme detail. Mondays won’t just be “red”, they will be the most specific type of red, and you’ll be able to describe it easily because you can really “see” it, either inside your head or actually in front of your eyes, like a screen. (Which is how Luke in Mondays are Red sees it.)

Is it useful for writers and artists?

I argue that true synaesthesia isn’t necessarily particularly useful! This is mainly because the correspondences are too individual and “odd”, rather than “meaningful” in a traditional or accessible way. (I’ll explain more on Mary’s blog.) So, they will feel surreal to the rest of us – nothing wrong with surreal but it makes it hard to share meaning. But some famously interesting writers and artists have or had synaesthesia and it certainly did them no harm! The writer Vladimir Nabokov, artists Kandinsky and David Hockney and the composer Messiaen and are the best known.

What’s it got to do with Mondays are Red, my novel?

Luke wakes from a coma and finds he has a very overwhelming synaesthesia – highly exaggerated and confusing. But he discovers that it gives him huge power, the power of language, which I argue is the greatest power of all – the power to change minds. He even discovers he can fly. (NB: you can’t. Please don’t try. Also, his power corrupts him, so you wouldn’t want it. Really.)

An amazing test

This works for people who have a very vivid form of coloured numbers or letters and is an amazing objective proof of the condition. (It’s rare for people to have it this strongly.)

Create a sheet of paper with lots of rows of the number five, but interspersed with a very few examples of the number two. Get a load of people to find and count the number 2s. Most people would take some time to do this, needing to look at each figure. BUT…people with this particular form of synaesthesia would find them instantly because the 2s would appear as a different colour to them. Even though they are printed in black. Amazing! (This test appears here and there are more interesting facts.)

Do you have synaesthesia? Do any of these things seem familiar?

At the launch of Mondays are Red, several adults discovered they had it because they all got into an argument about whether Mondays were red, green or silver! Whether you have synaesthesia or not, I hope lots of readers will want to enter Luke’s world. You need to let your imagination go but I promise you an exciting ride, even if you don’t actually fly!

Do hop over to Mary’s blog on Friday to read more about synaesthesia! Thank you, Lucy!

Thank you, Nicola. As always, it was a pleasure - and now I know I am not a colour synaesthete, although I do seem to feel particular tastes in my mouth with certain people and places...

PS: There's a fab (and very revealing) post about Nicola's music choices for writing over on Ros Morris's blog, The Undercover Soundtrack today, which ties in perfectly with this one. Do go and read it!

Mondays are Red was Nicola Morgan’s debut YA novel, published in 2002. Nicola is now delighted to be producing the ebook, with a new cover and brand new extra material, including creative writing by school pupils inspired by the book. For details about how to buy see here. You don't need a Kindle to download it, and the price is approx £2.23 on Amazon and will be similar on other outlets (coming soon). There's also a wonderful trailer, made by Nicola's daughter, which you can see below:

About the bookWhen Luke wakes from a coma, his world has altered. Synaesthesia confuses his senses and a sinister creature called Dreeg inhabits his mind. Dreeg offers him limitless power – even the power to fly – and the temptations are huge, but the price is high. Who will pay? His mysteriously perfect girlfriend, with hair as long as the sound of honey? His detested sister, Laura, with the wasps in her hair? When Laura goes missing, Luke realizes the terrible truth about himself and his power. His decision is a matter of life and death, and he will have to run faster than fire.
Nicola's next stop will be at Mary Hoffman's Book Maven blog on Friday 9th December.
Nicola's website is here
You can also find Nicola on Twitter (where she Crabbits regularly as @nicolamorgan).

Making It All Worthwhile - One Amazing Reader

2011-11-07T11:50:00.001Z

You don't expect much from a dreary, dreich November Monday morning. A bit of rain, a bit of fog, bills in the post, spam in the mailbox. This particular Monday morning is different, though. Today I received an amazing boost from one reader, Amber, who devoted a whole blogpost to why she is thankful for Atticus the Storyteller's 100 Greek Myths, which her grandmother gave her when she was 10. She's now 18, has her own book blog, and reads like a demon. As an author, it's reading stuff (like the quote below) from readers which makes all the struggling and cursing and the days when the words wriggle like worms on a hook worthwhile. Thank you, Amber - and all the hundreds of readers who've written to me about Atticus and my other books. I am thankful for every one of you.

"This was one of the last books my nanny bought me before being diagnosed with cancer for the second time. ... Ever since the day I began reading this book, I've been in love with Greek myths. It's more than love now, it's an obsession. It's a genuine love of mine, and I found it through the best circumstances. But that's not why I'm thankful. I'm thankful because I can now pick up this book, and as well as reading the stories for the hundredth time, I can remember my Nanny and how she was before she became ill."

Crone Moon - a poem for Samhain

2011-10-31T16:52:00.001Z

On All Hallows Eve, Hallowe'en - or in the Celtic way, Samhain, I make a little compost and sow a few seeds for the soul. Samhain is the end of the Celtic year, the beginning of winter, a time to reflect and consider, a time to slough off old, unwanted things and plant new hopes which will start to sprout with the spring snowdrops. Here's a poem to mark the turning of the year.

Crone Moon
Samhain 2011

Tonight I pass from blood red moon’s curve
to soft crone sag, wrinkled wisebelly.
I am not sad.
No more so than the yellow birch leaf is,
which skips and skirls over the October lawn,
celebrating its own downfall.
There are twelve crows across the sky.
I hear them caw counting bones,
their harsh tongue telling the days and hours
till I am ash and earth and brittle maggot flesh
for bears to gnaw on.

A Fantasy Dinner Party on Serendipity Reviews

2011-10-10T13:13:00.000+01:00

Today I'm with Vivienne over on the wonderful Serendipity Reviews, talking about my perfect fantasy dinner party (with lots of literary guests and a few eccentric choices). There's also a fantasy menu which will make your mouth water. Do go over and visit, and tell us whether you agree with my list! If not, who would your choices be?

CLICK HERE

Child of Mine

2011-10-06T11:46:00.000+01:00

National Poetry Day is with us again, so I thought I'd give you one of my own poems to celebrate. Enjoy!

Child of Mine

You and I, we lived in our enclosed world
of earth-shattering cries,
and lullabies sung out of love and memory.
Each living inch of you was miracle,
your salt-stained smile a kaleidoscope thing
of ever-changing wonder.
I had no words then, was dumbfounded,
too entranced, exhausted, enchanted,
to commit you to a paper prison where
fascinating plump-braceleted wrists
and the endless scent of milk-warm skin
stayed frozen in some verbal snapshot trap.
But now, child of mine, memory frays,
and I fear losing our then amongst
the grey, dead-end paths of my aging brain.
Words are the only tool I have
to keep my pasts alive and unforgotten.

Talking About Gay YA and Children's Books

2011-09-25T14:23:00.000+01:00

Fellow Orion author James Dawson (Hollow Pike is coming from Indigo/Orion in Feb 2012) has an excellent post about diversity in children's books over at Tall Tales and Short Stories, which ties in nicely with my own post about the gay YA debate on An Awfully Big Blog Adventure yesterday. Lots and lots of children's authors and others commenting on the latter, so well worth joining in. It's an important subject to discuss, I think.

A Writing 101 Production: Part 14 - How to Reach The End (1)

2011-09-05T14:56:00.002+01:00

I was delighted to be nominated as one of the Top 10 Children's Literature Blogs in the UK last week. I wasn't so sure about being the Number 5 Influencer of Kidlit on Twitter, though. That particular title made me feel I should be wearing leather, and carrying a cosh to bludgeon people into reading children's books...(actually, is that such a bad idea? *thinks*)....

But I also felt that I hadn't done much to deserve those nice accolades lately, having been totally absent from Scribble City Central due to the necessity of finishing my YA novel (which I'd promised Lovely Agent I would by the end of August). I did warn you about that though...see, here's the evidence. Anyway, while it's fresh in my mind, I thought I'd talk a bit about how I got to that all important moment of writing those two fantastic words

THE END

on the bottom of my manuscript. There may be some stuff that's helpful to you too, as you rush to the finish line of your own Great Work.

I don't go in for all those stupid writing rules (see Writing 101 Production No 8 for more about this), but when I have a book to finish, I know I must put all else aside and concentrate on only that. So, what worked for me (and what may work for you) is the following:

apply bum firmly to comfortable seat
keep door firmly closed
turn off phone (firmly)
take an (almost complete) break from Facebook and Twitter*
tell teenage children/dogs/partners/mothers/all and sundry that if they interrupt you for trivial matters they will suffer an imaginatively painful death (be very very firm about this)

That's a start. After that, I took Raymond Chandler's advice.

'Write with the solar plexus'

he said. For me that meant climbing onto the rollercoaster ride that is creating a book, not looking back too much, just cracking on and getting it all down on paper. Sounds simple, doesn't it? It's not. So I'll break it down still further. Here's some other stuff that worked for me:

Setting a word target (75,000 words in this case)
Doing complicated mathematical computations (if I have x days till D-day, with y days or hours when I can't write because of (insert annoying real life stuff like laundry, housework, cooking etc that can't be avoided here), how many words do I have to write a day to meet my deadline if I give myself rest day z on a Sunday?) Hey-it IS complicated-I failed Maths O level 4 times--OK?
Making sure I have loads of water (with fresh lemon in it) to drink, eye drops (just don't ask about the ongoing eyestrain saga), and plenty of healthy snatch-and-eat-at-the-computer food (this includes chocolate, which is, naturally, one of my 5-a-day)

I know, I know--sounds totally obsessive. But this is how getting to the end of a book feels for me. I AM obsessed with my characters, with the minutiae of their lives--and I want to know what happens to them desperately. They're talking to me by this stage--I can hear them, see them, smell them (not always delightful in the case of the latter). And however much chapter planning and pre-book research and work I've done before I start, however much I know where I want to be in the end, I don't always know how I'm going to get there, or what will happen on the way. There are always surprises--like the lovely Gillian Philip, at this stage I tend to write by the seat of my pants (applied firmly to that aforementioned comfy chair). Writing the most exciting story I can and getting to the end of is is all that matters to me at this stage--tidying up can come with the revisions and the second draft. But for that stage I need my lovely Official Teenage adviser--of whom more later. I'll tell you about her in Part 2, which will be up very soon. Meanwhile, let's leave this post with me at the end of my first draft. See me all excited and with 63,425 words under my writing belt (I started out with 20,000 in mid-July). I feel like I've run a marathon. Now where's my Lucozade, my medal and my lie-down?

*Um, on the Twitter and Facebook break--I was pretty firm about that, but did slip and creep on once or twice. People did notice I'd been gone, which was nice. I missed them too. See my Awfully Big Blog Adventure post on abandoning the Social Networks....

This Is Not a Political Blog, BUT...

2011-08-09T07:25:00.000+01:00

This is usually a writing blog. A blog about childrens books and myths and all that. Usually, I say. But sometimes I make statements about stuff I feel strongly about. This is one of those. Feel free to look away if that sort of thing upsets you.

Last night I sat and watched as parts of London were smashed to bits, set alight, looted. My husband and son were there (luckily safe, thank you for asking). I also followed the riots as they unfolded via Twitter--admittedly through the lens of the (mostly) bookish or journalistic people I follow. There I heard about more personal stories. Friends locked in and terrified by sounds of sirens and breaking glass (or by an ominous-seeming sudden silence--the calm before another storm?). Another friend told by a teenage girl who had just looted an i-Phone that 'I'm just getting back my taxes'. A whole road of Turkish people in Dalston who stood against the looters. Unconfirmed reports of restaurant guests who, when threatened by rioters demanding their jewellery, were defended by staff brandishing knives plucked hurriedly from the kitchens. A young woman escorted to safety by gallant youths 'because you're a girl, innit?' Motorbikes pelted with stones amid cries of 'who's next, man?'. A Waterstones bookshop left untouched, but a Gay bookshop smashed. There was a lot more--I merely give you snapshots. I didn't look at Facebook much, after I heard that an event page had been set up, inviting people to the 'riot party'. (I'm pretty fed up with Facebook at the moment, actually. It's turned rather nasty over the last weeks, what with the vile online bullying of my friend Amanda Craig, and some very unpleasant 'class-hatredy' comments about Horatio Chapple--the wretched 'polar bear' boy.) But I digress....

This morning the papers are full of doom and woe. The mindless destruction has spread to other cities. The COBRA committee is sitting. The recriminations have begun. Most of it is not at all attractive to witness, and I'm not proposing to go into the rights and wrongs or causes of it all here (though I just want to say that I did lose all respect for mayoral candidate Ken Livingstone last night, when he started using the riots as an election platform). But I'd like to ask a question. What is going to happen when the police start arresting and bailing all the young people who took part in the looting and general smashing up (which they already have, because the incontrovertible evidence is out there in the form of all those clever 'trophy photos'--we live in an age where if it is not 'posted' then it hasn't happened)? I say 'young people' because a lot of them were. (And to be very clear, I'm not talking about beating people up, or injuring policemen or any of that--I'm talking about the criminal damage and the looting). Are we really going to lock all of them up in our overcrowded prison system? Because there just isn't room is there? And we can't afford to build more yet more places to detain people at Her Majesty's pleasure, can we?

We've been somewhere like this before, of course. There were the London riots over university fees last year, in which, for example, a young man called Charlie Gilmour got photographed hanging off the Cenotaph, jumping on cars and other drug-fuelled and destructive idiocies. He recently got sent down for six months, and is currently locked in a cell for 23 hours a day. His mother, fellow author and Twitterer Polly Samson says he shouldn't be. I think I agree with her, but not for the reasons you might imagine. I don't condone what he did one iota as far as the Cenotaph is concerned. I am the daughter and grandaughter of ex-serving officers. I was sort of in the army myself for a time (yes yes, it's a little known fact about me--get over it). I think that what he did was a disgrace. But here's what I would have done. I would have tagged him, put him in a very cheap B and B near Headley Court (run by Help for Heroes), and I would have made him work with injured servicemen for those six months (or even three). Scrubbing floors, cleaning loos, changing sheets, talking to and being around those guys all day (and maybe some night shifts too), seeing just what sacrifices they have made (and no--I'm not getting into the rights and wrongs of Afghanistan here either). Want to teach him a lesson about respect and civic duty, dear judiciary? That would be a far more effective, cheaper and more salutary way of doing it than locking him up for those 23 hours. But it's not how our system works.

So back to last night and those inevitable future arrests and chargings with looting and criminal damage. What would I do with all those rampaging young people? I'd make the punishment fit the crime. Make them clean up. Make them damn well apologise face to face to all those small shopkeepers and business who have had their businesses ruined and their staff's jobs put in jeopardy. Make them work hard to repair the damage. I believe strongly that actions should have consequences. But I also believe that prison for this particular sort of thing is not necessarily the answer. Throwing those kids in jail will solve nothing at all. But making them take physical responsibility for the mess they created and face up to what they did in a way that had a positive outcome for the victims would make damn sure the punishment fitted the crime, and would teach a much more valuable moral lesson than either a short stint in the pokey, a suspended sentence, a derisory fine or an ASBO. If I was Home or Justice Secretary, I'd implement it tomorrow (literally) and call it 'Positive Sentencing'. It's what I reckon any responsible parent would do. That's what I think, anyway, but I'm not a politician, and (apart from in the case of the proposed disgraceful closures of libraries, about which I feel passionately) I am not a political campaigner either. Feel free to disagree among yourselves about all this, but please try and be vaguely polite if you comment. I did warn you this wasn't a normal post, after all!

Mars and Venus - 'The David Blog Tour': Guest Post by Mary Hoffman

2011-08-04T08:00:00.001+01:00

I first encountered Mary Hoffman's David back in February this year, when Mary was kind enough to send me a very early proof. Last year I 'met' the man himself, in sculptural form, when I visited Florence. To me at that time he was, though utterly beautiful and mesmerising to look at, still only a cold, marble statue in 3D. Now, after reading Mary's marvellous book, he exists inside my head, 3D still, but reincarnated as a living, breathing, gloriously beddable Renaissance boy called Gabriele. To be honest with you, dear readers, I could go on about this book for hours. Not only is it a marvellously plotted story, taking known historical facts and interweaving them with nuggets of possibility into a seamless whole, but it also rekindled my long-buried interest in art history. It made me look at Michelangelo's sculpture in a whole new light, made me, as a writer, think as well about the hidden things behind all art--the myriad histories lost in time and waiting for a teller to give them life.

Mary herself is a magical teller and teaser-out of hidden histories. When I interviewed her for Mslexia magazine earlier in the year, she told me that David was the perfect story for her as a writer of historical fiction.

Mary and David

"There were some incontrovertible facts, but absolutely nothing known for the crucial part of it. Nobody knows who the model was--or even if there was a model. That was the ideal scenario, because you've got your framework and the ability to bring historical characters alive--but then you can get in and tell your human story any way you damn well like!"

I can tell you that Mary's 'any way you damn well like' is pretty damn good as far as I'm concerned. I consider this to be her best book yet (and her previous books have all been fabulous). Buy it. Read it. Read it again. Trust me on this one!

And now, that's quite enough from me. I'm going to hand you over to Mary herself, who, this being the marvellously mythic Scribble City Central, has chosen to talk about Mars and Venus for the very last stop on her David Blog Tour. Welcome to SCC, Mary!

The David Blog Tour: Final Day - Mary Hoffman talks about Mars and Venus

“Men are from Mars, Women from Venus” – so says the book title.

I think that’s pretty much nonsense. But certainly back in Renaissance Florence women didn’t go to war as soldiers. And you wouldn’t have found many men being hands-on dads either. In other words, the gender roles were pretty clearly divided. We are talking about over five hundred years ago, when women could not vote or hang on to their own property if they married.

Aristocratic women might have had some say in the ordering of their lives but marrying for dynastic reasons rather than love was common. Ordinary people of both sexes had hard lives in the Middle Ages and Renaissance and life expectancy was not all that long.

So the story of Gabriele and his many loves should be viewed in the context of that background. He poses as artist’s model for the painter Leone, as Hercules, Mars, Bacchus and Theseus – all mythological characters or legendary heroes. Like David, he is well suited to representing these figures, at least physically.

But he doesn’t feel heroic. He feel that he has betrayed Grazia by accepting her help and not loving her enough, the way Theseus betrayed Ariadne by allowing her to help him kill the Minotaur and then abandoning her.. But as he tells Leone, he has posed for Bacchus too – the god who rescues Ariadne so, in a sense, Grazia, who also poses for Leone sometimes, ends up with him anyway.

‘I think all of us are part Theseus, part Bacchus,’ [Leone] said.

‘And part Minotaur?’ I asked. ‘That’s what I’ve been thinking.’

‘You are very young, Gabriele,’ he said. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. We all make some mistakes as we are growing up.’

They are talking about the difficulty, as they see it, for men, to behave well in their love relationships with women. And it comes to them naturally to express this in terms of mythology, not just because of the subjects of Leone’s current paintings, but because everyone knew those stories then from the many representations of them in art.

And it is complicated for Gabriele by the fact that women – and men – throw themselves at him all the time! He means to behave well to all of them but it just too inexperienced and unsophisticated to handle the situations in which he finds himself. Thinking of himself as Mars – or any of the other classical figures – is a way of distancing himself from the actuality of relationship with a flesh and blood woman of his own time. And of telling himself that he is not the only male who has ever got himself into a pickle with females.

The god Mars has always struck me as rather stupid. And Venus was pretty dumb too! He did his he-man warlike stuff and she went around being beautiful. Apollo and Hermes (Mercury), Artemis and Athene (Diana and Minerva) are much more interesting, don’t you think?

Now if the book was “Men are from Mercury, Women from ...” But there is no other planet named after a goddess, is there? Perhaps that tells us something too.

Fascinating and illuminating stuff, Mary--with much mythic food for thought too. Thank you so much for visiting Scribble City Central.

You can find out more about Mary at the sites listed below:

www.maryhoffman.co.uk

www.twitter.com/@MARYMHOFFMAN

www.facebook.com/maryhoffman.fanpage

www.bookmavenmary.blogspot.com

The Novelty of Writing

2011-08-02T18:50:00.001+01:00

Clementine and Mungo by Sarah Dyer (Bloomsbury 2004)

You may have noticed I haven't been here much lately. I know, I know, you've missed me and all that. It's been a manic summer so far, what with all that ABBA Litfest shenanigans going on, and other stuff as well.

There's also been quite a lot of writing excitement for me over the last month or so. I'm delighted to say that I've had two picture book texts accepted--one, with wonderful artist Sarah Dyer (see picture on left for her inimitable style), will be published by Bloomsbury in 2013, and the other with fab new publisher Nosy Crow (about which there will be more news later in the year, I hope).

I'm also in the last stages of writing a YA novel. I'm very excited about it, and so is Lovely Agent, but she's sworn me to secrecy on what it's about, so ~~mmmmmmm~~ *sound of lips being firmly zipped*. What I can say is that I have a new writing regime for this book, and I'm loving it. Up at 6.30am, write in bed (very lady novelist, but without the fluffy Pomeranian), healthy brain-boosting breakfast, more writing till lunchtime, no Twitter or Facebook or blogging or any other damn thing till then. Target 2500-3000 words a day, which means that I should--should, I say--have it finished by the end of the month (and now that I've said that publicly, I'll have to do it, won't I?). The last 10,000 words were tapped out looking over the island of Elba in a mixture of glorious Tuscan sunshine and very scary thunderstorms. But it's been nice to get back to my own desk and all my books. Books in a rented house aren't the same, somehow, though it's fun exploring someone else's shelves, especially since they belong to another writer--Elizabeth Palmer. I'll tell you more about the novel when I can--I promise!--and I know you'll forgive me if I'm absent with the Muse for a bit over the rest of the summer.

Meanwhile, this Thursday (4th August), I have a treat for you, as Scribble City Central is hosting the very wonderful Mary Hoffman on the last day of the blog tour for her novel, David. Come back and visit again then!

WIN 18 FAB BOOKS! COMPETITION CLOSES 20TH JULY!

2011-07-19T13:16:00.000+01:00

You can still win 18 fantastic books in my Awfully Big Blog Adventure Online Litfest competition! But only just, as entries close at 10pm (UK time) tomorrow, 20th July. All you have to do is to leave the name of your favourite god, goddess, hero or heroine (from any pantheon) in the comments section of my funny dog video over on An Awfully Big Blog Adventure.

JUST CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS

Good luck! Winner will be announced soon....

ABBA Litfest is Open For Business - Hooray!

2011-07-09T16:33:00.000+01:00

ABBAlitfest opened for business this morning at 9.30am and wow! What a programme it's been so far. Blogs on writing, videos--and some fantastic giveaways and competitions. Even Conal MacGregor is featuring! And the equally decorative (am I allowed to say that?), but just slightly younger, Tyger Drew Honey from Outnumbered is there too, being interviewed. So do go over and have a look, because it's brilliant (if I say so myself). And if you like it, please do say so on Twitter (at #ABBAlitfest hashtag) or on the Facebook page. Have fun, and look out for my video (Beware: Contains Fierce Animals) at 4pm today. Can't wait to hear what you think of me as a cross between Joyce Grenfell and Barbara Woodhouse!

BREAKING NEWS! Here's that MAD VIDEO I was talking about earlier...

In Which I Talk to @Serendipity_Viv about The ABBA Online Litfest

2011-07-08T13:31:00.000+01:00

To kick off the fab festival weekend, here I am over at Serendipity Reviews, talking to the lovely @Serendipity_Viv from Twitter and the blogosphere about ABBAlitfest--and what I'm going to do when it's all over!

Serendipity Reviews: The ABBA Online Literary Festival - Interview with Lucy Coats

The Mythic Faery Interview – Conal MacGregor, Smouldering Sithe Warrior

2011-07-05T17:07:00.000+01:00

Gillian Philip's faery warrior, Conal MacGregor--what a treat that man is to talk to! And today I'm sharing him with all of you, because I'm generous like that....

A little while ago, I was lucky enough to be given the very first sneak preview of Gillian's new novel, Bloodstone--the second in her 'Rebel Angels' series and the sequel to Firebrand, which The Times dubbed their 'best fantasy of 2010'. Naturally I was sworn to secrecy about the contents--and I'm not going to put up any spoilers here. Suffice to say that the action has moved on 400 years, into our own 21st century, there are new and exciting characters as well as old friends--and the fast-moving, viscerally real action is just as gripping as ever, if not more so. The wickedly feral, amoral Seth (the 'red-hot faery boy' of my last Mythic Interview) tells the story, just as he did in the first book, and I'm as entranced as ever by what goes on inside his head (and by the reasons why he acts and thinks as he does). I still want to smack him half the time, and hug him (well, that's the polite way of putting it...) the rest of it. But there is a new storyteller's voice too--Finn MacAngus, the stroppy, wild, rebellious Sithe girl who has no idea how powerful she really is. I think you'll like her as much as I did--and I look forward to seeing more of her in later volumes. All I will say now is that there's a treat coming for those of you who loved the first book--and some heart-stopping surprises too.

However, it's neither Seth nor Finn who is the star of this interview. Conal MacGregor is the quiet one--the 'good brother', and I feel that sometimes he's overlooked for that very reason--though he's just as..um...'huggable' as his younger brother. I also really wanted to know a bit more about what made him tick, and to get inside his head. So Gillian very kindly agreed once more to act as amanuensis, and write down Conal's answers to my fearsomely intrusive and personal questions. (Honestly? I'm just really nosy! But Shh! Let's just pretend I'm an intrepid journo on assignment for Hello! for the moment....)

SCC: Conal, you seem to be pretty perfect all round—selfless, noble, responsible, loyal, gentle, caring and all that (which might be annoying if you weren’t so obviously nice). Your rude brother calls you ‘the insufferable saint’. But everyone has a dark secret hidden in their character somewhere. What’s yours?
Uh... am I all those things?! Well, thanks, Lucy... It’s no surprise that Seth is rude about me; he’s pretty insolent about everyone and he’s easily wound up where I’m concerned. As for my dark half – well, I wish I were as perfect as the man you describe, but I’ve had my moments, and being under orders doesn’t excuse anything. If it’s a character fault you’re looking for, I know what Seth would say is my worst – the temper. I take a while to get riled, but when I do, I overreact. And Seth knows exactly which buttons to push. I'd better not say he can push my buttons anytime, had I? *oops, too late*

SCC: You’ve had to make a lot of choices and hard decisions, both for yourself and your Clann. If you could go back and do one thing differently in your life so far, what would it be and why?
One thing, or many? There have been plenty of things I’d change, but if I had to choose one moment that could have made a difference, I’d have challenged Kate NicNiven earlier. Seth reckons I could have taken the crown from her way back, before the worst of it happened, and he might be right*. The trouble is, I didn’t want it; I only wanted autonomy over my own dun. But yes, I should have challenged her more strongly and a lot earlier. If I’d done that, it need never even have come to fighting.
* Ohhh! How I wish you had too. She needs a good walloping, that one!

SCC: Your brother Seth is clearly very important to you—and you’ve made a lot of sacrifices for him. Tell us the thing about Seth that you most love—and the thing you most hate.
Ha! Yes, I love the little toe-rag. It’s a dirty job but somebody’s got to do it...

What do I love most? His cheek. He’ll insult anyone, even me, and sometimes it takes a while to realise he’s done it. It’s got him into all kinds of trouble, but there’s a kind of reckless bravado about it that echoes the way he fights.

What do I most hate? The way he won’t let himself be loved. The little git, he needs to bind to someone, but he’s what you might call a commitment-phobe. And it’s insane, because he has a lot to give, he just won’t let himself. He isn’t doing himself any favours there**.
** No, he isn't. And I wish he'd learned that lesson too. But emotional maturity is clearly going to take him several more centuries to get a grip on--if the annoying little cuss survives that long!

SCC: First you were a kind of father-figure to Seth, and now, in Bloodstone, you’re doing it all over again with Finn. You and Eili have had no children of your own (so far). I know it’s hard for the Sithe to have kids and that they’re incredibly important to you—so what would be the most vital piece of advice you’d want to pass on to your own bairn?

I know that’s a sore point with Eili, and I do feel guilty about it. One of these days, though, gods willing... anyway, what advice would I give? Don’t be scared to speak your mind to people you trust. Listen to the counsel of your friends and your lovers. And never turn your back on a smiling Lammyr.

I’d give myself a bit of advice, as well. I would never, but never lie to my child***. I’ve seen where that goes.
*** I'm so glad you said that. Lying to your kids will always come back and bite you in the bum. And what's the point?

SCC: I once asked Seth whether he saw himself as a kind of mythic hero—and he went all embarrassed on me (have you ever seen him blush? It’s rather sweet!). You yourself have actually been described as ‘heroic’, so how about you? Do you feel like a hero? Who would be the hero you most admire and relate to in any culture—and why?

Really? You made Seth blush? Brilliant - that I’d like to have seen. I can see why, though – what a question! If somebody has described me that way, it’s nice of them, but no. I don’t feel heroic. I feel as if I’d like to be heroic, but never quite get there. I have a lot of ground to make up, mistakes to correct, sins to expiate. Besides, I haven’t achieved what I need to achieve, not yet.

Which hero would I most admire? Tristan^. He was a warrior and a fantastic horseman, but he knew about love and loss. He wasn’t perfect, but he did his damnedest to do the right thing. And for the same reasons (minus the swordfighting) – Iseult too.
^ Tristan is the perfect choice for you--I can quite see why you'd pick him. It seems to me that real heroes (ie you and Seth) are so because you don't have that kind of hubris which tells you that you're perfect. The flaws and doubts make the man, I think.

SCC: The Queen of Elfland, The Faerie Queen, even Galadriel...we humans have so many tales of the ruler of your world. She’s always eerily beautiful, often cruel and human men seem find her irresistible. I hate to bring up Kate NicNiven, but why would anyone find her character attractive? You yourself say ‘she’d start a war for the fun of it on a dull weekend.’ She’s even more of a monster than the Lammyr, isn’t she? Why is she such a...well, ‘cow’ would be the politest term, I suppose! And why do all the Sithe put up with her?

It’s hard to explain, Lucy. If you can suspend your disbelief long enough, I could tell you that she’s...charming. And so beautiful, of course. And incredibly indulgent of her favourites.

Most of all, though, she knows how to win affection. She’ll say just the right thing, pay the right compliment, give the most apt favour at exactly the right moment. She knows better than anyone what you want or need – sometimes she uses witchcraft, sometimes it’s simple instinct – and she can give or withhold it as she likes. Most often she gives – so long as it suits her. She can make you dance to a tune you never knew you knew; she can play you like a fish on a hook, and persuade you no bait ever tasted better. It’s political nous, I suppose, and it’s better than any magic spell^^.
^^ Ah! So she's really a bedamned and thrice-bedamned politician. That explains everything!

SCC: Talking of those human men—did you ever meet Thomas the Rhymer or Tam Linn? Why is music so important to the Sithe? And what would be the one modern song you absolutely have to have on your i-Pod?

I never met either of those two personally – before my time, I’m afraid – but they’re both still well-known by reputation. It seems Tam was a little humourless, but utterly devoted to Kate. Everyone knew she had him bewitched, and a lot of people lost a lot of bets when the full-mortal girl got him away from Kate. Thomas Rhymer was smarter, I reckon. He charmed Kate as much as she did him, and he flattered her, so when he asked to go home, she let him. You see? She rarely makes the kind of mistake she did with Tam Lin. And of course, he came back to her in the end, and died at a fine old age, still spouting those wacky prophecies that amused her so much.

I have met more than one other full-mortal, though, tempted across by Kate or by someone else. Lots of people fall for a full-mortal now and again, and want to show off. But the difference with Kate is that she has a nasty habit of, say, employing pipers and fiddlers for an evening’s entertainment, just when she knows the time’s going to warp. When they go back, they don’t survive longer than it takes to find out the date. She really is La Belle Dame Sans Merci. It’s cruel. Some Sithe think it’s funny; some don’t, but it’s damned difficult to say so to her face.

Speaking of full-mortal musicians, though, you’re right – we’re fond of music. You are too, though, aren’t you? After a hard day’s work or horse-training or fighting, there’s nothing better than a party. Even I know that, and you won’t catch me singing for love or money (unlike Seth, the show-off. But then he’s good).

As for my own iPod – I play Paolo Nutini a LOT – I never get tired of him – and I’m really fond of Brown-Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. Seth tells me I’m hopelessly unadventurous, but you should hear some of the shit he likes^^^.
^^^ Yep. I'm certainly a music girl. But Paolo Nutini annoys the crap out of me, I'm afraid--and I'm not such a fan of Van the Man either--though I'll listen to him. I fear some of my musical tastes may veer towards Seth's. Eclectic, that's me! Hildegarde of Bingen one day, Lady Gaga or Seasick Steve the next!

SCC: The Sithe are clearly excellent fighters, and enjoy a good brawl. You are one of the best with a sword. But if you didn’t have a sword, dagger or anything else long, sharp or pointy, what would you do? Do any of the Sithe practise any type of martial arts combat which involves no weapons? If not, shouldn’t you use all that time you’ve spent in the human world and start training your Clann so that you’ll have an advantage over your future enemies?

There’s no formal martial art, with special moves and rules or indeed any spiritual dimension – but oh, yes, we can fight barehanded. There’s a certain ability we have to kind of stay in the air and move, with nothing solid for leverage. It’s a mind thing. But we can’t do it for long. It’s not like we have those wee gossamer wings+, whatever anybody tells you.

Anyway, people tend to work out what works for them, depending on their size, speed, talents...and we’re nothing if not adaptable. Some Sithe fight pretty dirty. I could introduce you to a guy called Cuthag. Not one of my favourite people.
+ I'd give anything to see you and Seth in a pair of wee gossamer wings...! *has small fantasy moment*

SCC: Cù Chaorach, ‘The Sheepdog’, is your true name. While sheepdogs are wonderfully faithful and intelligent animals, they also tend to do what they’re told. How did you feel when you first found out what you were called? Did you secretly want to be something more glamorous like a wolf, or a bear or a stag? Do you think a sheepdog is really cut out to be a leader of men?

Don’t get me started. There’s a rumour I didn’t speak to anyone for a month when they found my name, but that isn’t quite true. I wasn’t very enamoured of it, though. And yes, you’ve got it: I wanted to be a wolf, or an eagle, or... hell, at least a stoat or a badger would be a proper predator.

But I’ve grown accustomed to it. I still don’t...quite...get it, but people say it suits me. Apparently I am sometimes annoyingly bossy and I-know-best++. The gods know, Eili tells me that often enough.
++ I guess dogs are descended from wolves--you can comfort yourself that you're a civilised wolf who can get people to do what he wants. How's that for an idea?

SCC: Finally, I’m always wondering this myself (and am always changing my greedy mind), so I’m going to indulge myself and ask you what your last ever meal in the world would be, if you could choose. Mine currently involves eggs, chicken, truffles, purple sprouting broccoli, asparagus, mashed potato, a lot of cream and butter—and chocolate (obviously). Where would you eat your final supper? And with whom?

You know what, Lucy? I think I’ll join you...

But if you absolutely made me choose my own, I’d go for really fresh fish, straight out of the waters beside the dun. I’d like it grilled over an open fire, just with some butter and lemon and herbs. And artichoke hearts+++, because they’re so much fun to eat. And then I’ll have some rare steak, cooked over the same fire; and since this is a fantasy meal, I’ll take some proper modern Scottish chips with it, incredibly fatty and straight out of the local chip shop near Tornashee. But forget the deep-fried Mars bar afterwards – I’ll have Strathdon Blue cheese and plenty of whisky. Macallan, I think.
+++ Artichoke hearts--oh! I am SO stealing those for my last supper. Mashed with plenty of butter and salt and pepper. Yum!

And of course, I’d eat it with Eili, and we’d sit on a hill overlooking the dun. And I know you said ‘final’ meal, but hey, you’d let us have some time with each other afterwards++++, wouldn’t you...? ++++ Says he, wistfully! Yes, of course! The night is yours and Eili's to do with as you will. I'll be down the road with your dear brother...

Oh gods, now I’m sounding like Seth! Thanks for a terrific interview, Lucy. You’re an amazing lady and you’re welcome in my dun any time – once I get it back. I know you’d spin us some fabulous stories.

Thank you, Conal--and Gillian. You've spun us all some fabulous answers, and I know many many readers will be even more desperate to read Bloodstone when it comes out on 19th August from Strident Publishing. In fact, I think I'm away now to read it again myself!

Gillian on Twitter
Gillian on Facebook

Announcing The First Ever Online Literary Festival...

2011-06-20T10:23:00.000+01:00

...RUN ENTIRELY BY CHILDREN'S AUTHORS!

If you'd like to see what all the excitement is about, please click on

AN AWFULLY BIG BLOG ADVENTURE.

I'll be there on 9th July with a BRAND NEW VIDEO. But that's all I'm saying for now...!

A Writer's Right to Die - My Reaction to Terry Pratchett

2011-06-14T18:21:00.000+01:00

I've been away for a while. Thinking. Dreaming. Playing with words. But I've chosen to come back today and write about my personal reaction to a difficult and emotive subject which polarises opinion. You'll probably know what I'm talking about. Terry Pratchett's BBC documentary, Choosing to Die was screened on the BBC last night. I cried throughout, though not for the reasons you may imagine. It was a dignified, wonderful and moving programme made with unflinching bravery and infinite compassion. Much will be said on both sides of the fence about the rights and wrongs of assisted suicide. I can only speak for myself here.

Terry Pratchett is above anything else a writer. He has long been one of my favourite authors in the world. He makes me laugh, he makes me cry (more crying), he makes me think how damned clever he is and how I wish I could construct the kind of punes he does without looking like a complete fule. He also happens to have Alzheimer's. He's made 'coping with it' jokes about that--at the beginning wondering "what kind of vegetable would I be?". Now, as the condition progresses, he is confronting his own end--and how he would want that to occur.

"When I can no longer write my books, I am not sure I want to go on living" he says in the programme.

I understand that. I do so understand that. In the last weeks, I have had a scare with my eyes. I have thought hard about not being able to read, to see--to type the words which demand to be let out of my head. It was and is a fearful terror and it made (and makes) me feel sick and scared and lost. So, as a writer, not to be able to rely on one's brain to come up with the goods--to lose the words which make you who you are--must be unimaginably horrifying to contemplate. Terry says that the things which would make him consider ending his own life are:

"Not being able to dictate any more; not being able to be a writer any more; not being able to communicate."

There are many dreadful and horrific things going on in our world right now. Please, don't think I'm ignoring those when I say that one of the greatest pleasures in my life is looking forward to a new Pratchett novel. A world in which that could no longer happen would be less bright for me, but I know that it will occur, probably sooner rather than later. (I feel the same way about the fact that there will now never be another Diana Wynne Jones book, by the way). But that is a very personal and probably selfish reaction. More importantly, what Terry's programme has crystallised for me is that I do now believe more than ever before that anyone with a terminal or incurable condition should have the right to choose the manner of their death and the time of it, if they wish to do so and are mentally capable of making that decision for themselves. Very few can afford £10,000 to go to Dignitas. Those who do go there from this country would much rather die in their own homes with their own things around them, with no fear that their loved ones will be prosecuted.

"Who owns your life?" Terry asks.

Who owns me? I do. And if I ever find myself in Terry's position or that of Andrew Smedley, Rob Colgan or Hugo Claus, I would like to have the choice of when to let my words go quiet. Or not to let them go quiet. That is the nature of the word 'choice'.

You can find out more about Dignity in Dying here.

A Meditation on Turning Fifty

2011-04-29T12:00:00.000+01:00

This week, with the whole country covered in bunting and Union Jacks (how kind of everyone to decorate for my birthday), I celebrate reaching my half-century. As a change from the clangour of royal wedding bells and revelations, here's a small poetic insight into how it feels to me....

Meditation on Turning Fifty

Why April is the cruellest month—well,

I’ve never understood Tom’s take on that.

I’m more of a Geoffrey goodwif, me.

My April has sweet showers, is mild, beneficent,

full of thrusting green and skylarks.

But if any April were to be cruel, it would be this.

Here I stand, damp and peeling

out of my first half-century carapace,

skin sloughing like a fat, burnt snake,

whirling and gurgling down the drain;

stripped and flaking evidence

of the life I’ve led so far.

Will the other side of April

be a slow slide down into darkness--

fifty dulled roots in a dead lilac land? No.

I defy sad Tom and his heap of broken images.

Instead, I shall wear stockings of a fine scarlet red

to adorn my pilgrimage to winter.

The Royal Wedding Revelations - EXCLUSIVE! (Part 3)

2011-04-27T08:00:00.069+01:00

One thing I forgot to tell you about in yesterday's Buckingham Palace story was the Royal Loos. No good writer or journalist-to-be could ever resist a sneaky peek into the smallest rooms in the palace--I was no exception. They are positively...well...regal, dear readers. Also commodious and throne-like. Quite literally. I have never been seated on so many acres of polished wood to pee, nor been anywhere lavatorial with such grandiose silken wallpaper. The overhead flush, worked by a long chain finished with a crested china pull, sounded just like a roaring Balmoral waterfall. But enough of Royal conveniences. I believe I promised you a Cathedral...

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

Wednesday 29th July 1981, inside St Paul's Cathedral, London
We'd all been up late the night before, mingling with the massive crowds in the darkness of Hyde Park, cheering en masse as the fireworks went up in a fiery paean to tell the watching world that tomorrow there would be a Royal marriage, a new princess for Britain. As the last firework burned out, and I walked back through the joyful, buzzing streets of Kensington with my companions, it seemed to me a private, personal signal that the friend I knew so well would now enter into a life unimaginable to either of us only four short years before, as we lay in our adjoining iron boarding school bedsteads, chattering about boys and lessons and the grimness of certain teachers.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

The hairdresser visited early, sticking pins in strategic places and making sure hats and hair were perfectly aligned. Bag, gloves (grey short ones for me this time), shoes polished and pristine, makeup applied, don't forget to wee at the last minute because it will be a long day--the girls with pearls (of course we wore pearls!) were ready to go. It was the strangest of feelings, being driven along that sunlit wedding route lined with what seemed like millions of smiling faces, Union Jacks, and those odd square periscopes which stuck up everywhere like small chimneys. We waved frantically (in a most undignified and unregal way) through the car windows of course--what other opportunity would we ever get to feel like queens? And every time we did there were loud cheers from behind the metal barriers. Even the lined out policemen were grinning at us. It was nine o' clock in the morning, and we had two hours to go before lift-off. The smaller West Door of St Paul's was open, and a crowd of assorted top hats and morning suits and uniforms were pouring in, together with a whole rainbow garden of dresses and feathered, sequinned, chiffoned, strawed and silken creations on heads.

As we entered, Ushers handed us two large white booklets, one a Guide to the Ceremonial so we'd all know who was who as they entered, and the other an Order of Service decorated in gold and red and showing music and hymns and all the normal business of a wedding.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

The small bright-blue entry ticket told me to go to Nave North A. If you look very carefully at the aerial footage from that day, you can see me sitting half way up the main aisle on the left hand side, fidgeting as I listen to the music. And boy, was there a lot of music while all the grandees got into place. Howells and Tippett, Britten and Bliss--all the Great British Composers of the 20th century boomed out of those massive organ pipes. The cheers from outside grew louder and louder as each car arrived. Heads craned round unashamedly, who would be next through the doors? Who could we recognise and wave at from our own lives? Jane? Sarah? Carolyn? Virginia? Annie? Charles? We all studied our ceremonial programmes minutely and a wind of whispers rose up into the dome and circled and swirled in a tornado of discreet sound as some of the Heads of State and foreign royals were conducted to their seats, followed by the Gentleman Ushers with the more minor members of Royal Family.

Then it was the turn of the Ecclesiastical Procession. Virgers, the Crossbearer, the Taperers, The Choristers--on and on they went in a rustling, starched flood of snowy white surplice, red robe, and finally the gold and purple of high church office. Diana's mother Frances arrived next--looking elegant if a little lonely in floaty powder-blue chiffon--very different from the relaxed woman in sun-faded jeans and cotton shirts I remembered so well from one long, hot Scottish summer.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

Shortly afterwards we heard barked military orders as the lining parties shuffled into their immaculately dressed ranks on the steps, the main doors of the Cathedral were flung open, and the procession of Foreign Crowned Heads arrived, resplendent in uniforms, bright sashes, medals and Orders. Monaco, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Spain, Sweden, Norway and Belgium settled in their seats. Eighteen minutes to go. When would the rest of them arrive? Surely soon, we said hopefully, wriggling our numb bottoms on the hard pews.
The cheers grew louder and more frenzied. There was a clattering of hooves and more shouted orders. As the National Anthem started to play outside, we rose to our feet as if pulled upwards on strings. The Mayor of London, carrying the Pearl Sword held high in front of him, came down the centre aisle to the strains of a Purcell rondeau, followed by the Queen, blue-clad and serene with Prince Philip's braid-bedecked and bemedalled figure marching beside her and all her family behind. The cathedral swished and swayed like a garden in the wind as we all bobbed and bowed.

Exactly six minutes later, more clattering of hooves and the loudest cheers yet as the bridegroom and his middle brother emerged from the 1902 State Landau to yet more National Anthem, and were joined by his youngest brother in the Dean's Aisle, where they waited for precisely five minutes until the cheers from outside built to a previously unheard pitch of screaming excitement. The Glass Carriage had arrived, the Bride and her yards of crumpled silk entered to a high, wild fanfare of trumpets that put a lump in my throat and raised all the hairs on the back of my spine. The great doors closed, and we were all shut inside as she walked down the aisle, a living virginal sacrifice on the arm of her father the earl, veil down, invisible and yet the most visible woman in the world at that moment.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

As all the world knows, she stumbled over her marriage vows, and at that moment--the moment when she mixed up her Arthurs and her Philips--the whole place seemed to take a silently sucked-in breath. I remember wondering if it still counted if you got it wrong at the altar--whether you were still properly married--whether it was a bad omen. And then I forgot it, as the new Princess walked up the aisle on the arm of her Prince, eyes moving over the congregation, seeking out those she knew. She saw us all, her friends, sitting there like a row of brightly-coloured ducks , and just for a millisecond her eye flickered in a tiny but unmistakeable wink above that trademark smile. It was a very Diana moment. And then it was all over. Off she drove in the open landau into that short but intense period of history with its well-known tragic finish--away from the normal everyday life of university and work I and her other friends returned to all too soon.

But for those three days--for those three days I was right inside what seemed then like the biggest and most unforgettable fairytale ever told. And like the cheering crowds outside, on that particular day I too believed that fairytales have happy endings. This Friday, nearly thirty years later, no doubt I shall believe it all over again for Prince William and Kate Middleton in Westminster Abbey as I watch them exchange their marriage vows on my television, along with millions of other viewers. But just in case, I'll also be sending up a prayer to my dear friend on her pearly cloud that this time, for her son and daughter-in-law, history will turn out differently. I know she'll be watching too. She wouldn't miss it for all the world.

Click HERE for Part 1 of The Royal Wedding Revelations
Click HERE for Part 2 of The Royal Wedding Revelations

The Royal Wedding Revelations - EXCLUSIVE! (Part 2)

2011-04-26T09:00:00.002+01:00

I left you back in 1981, on tenterhooks to find out What Happened Next in this exclusive tale of royal revelries at Buckingham Palace, where we were about to enter the realms of Disaster Number Two. The Curtsey to The Queen at the top of that huge curving sweep of red-carpeted stairs...

Curtseys to queens, however much practiced at home in front of a mirror, are much more difficult than they look. I tripped over my own high-heeled feet, dear readers. Fell flat on my face in front of Her Majesty and assorted regal personages who all looked rather bemused at this clumsy rose-coloured vision sprawled in front of them. Plus one not-as-yet-Royal personage who, (knowing my normal klutz mode all too well), was not bemused at all but had a fit of giggles most unbefitting a princess-to-be. I collected myself, wondering if I'd committed some terrible act of lèse-majesté, and fled down the East Gallery, wrapping the shreds of my dignity around me. Standing at the end of the gallery were a number of nice bewigged footman handing out the champagne. That nearly led to Disaster Number Three.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

Remember my borrowed begloved finery? Have you ever tried eating and drinking with Long Kid Gloves on? Take my advice. Don't. They make your fingers thick and clumsy like thumbs. I managed to hold onto the champagne (goblet not flute, of course), taking large swigs to calm my frayed nerves. Then, having been too strung up to eat anything beforehand, I slipped into the Ball Supper room, spread with a sumptuous buffet, for a tiny snack. The rarest of roast beef from the royal herds and pink poached salmon with cucumber scales lay on ornate silver dishes. Fishy eyes stared disapprovingly as I tried to manhandle glass, plate and cutlery with increasing desperation. Cutting beef with a fork? One handed? With gloves on? When you're a klutz? Just before everything tipped off the plate and all over some unsuspecting duchess, I put it down and decided to go hungry. Snacks were off the menu and The Long Kid Gloves had won. More champagne, that was the answer, and some serious people-watching.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

I wasn't all alone in that huge, awe-inspiring palace full of strangers. My friends and I went exploring together. But even then, long before writing became my profession, I had my writer's eyes on, noticing and filing stuff away in my brain. In the State Dining Room, set against a blaze of deep red and white and mirrored gold, there was Mrs Thatcher, a Prime Minister to love or hate intensely, according to your political views. Her hair was a magnificent blondish helmet with not a coiffed hair astray, and she was dressed in long heavy silver-grey brocade, like rather shapeless designer armour--a Tory warrior incarnate. Denis stood one step behind as she held court under the gaze of a huge bevy of royal portraits, correct and grey-haired in white tie and tails, comforting gin in hand. There in the Ballroom was the King of Spain, black hair shining, very upright and laden with glittering orders, dancing with his queen to the sound of Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen. In the Blue Drawing Room we joined Prince Andrew by the bar--young, thin and glamorous then, and surrounded by a horde of pretty girls (us included), all hoping he'd take us into the Disco to dance the night away. Everywhere there were enormous urns of opulent heavy-smelling flowers, and large tethered bunches of blue and silver helium balloons decorated with the triple feathers of the bridegroom.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

Princess Grace of Monaco floated past me trailing golden film star glamour--once just another young girl who had married her prince in a fairytale wedding. And then there was Princess Margaret, who hadn't. Dressed in a bright yellow dress that outshone the tall brocade curtains, smoking like a chimney, she sat, legs akimbo, in the White Drawing Room (with the Cocktail Bar nicely handy) surrounded by adoring Young Things, roaring with laughter. Hers is the image that sits in my mind most clearly from that night--she looked like a blazing comet, full of dangerous fun and fire.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

As we entered the Picture Gallery and fell into the swirling mass of colour and chatter echoing off the curved glass roof, we bumped into Prince Charles, standing alone and peering at the floor. He had just lost a cufflink. I found myself on my knees before royalty for a second time that night, scrabbling around on the swirly carpet for a small gold object. The royal cuffs restored to neatness, a little light chat ensued and then the prince was whisked away to talk to more eminent personages. I curtseyed rather more successfully this time and headed into the Green Drawing Room. The Throne Room lay beyond, closed off but visible, the two velvet covered chairs under the red-and-gold canopy somehow seeming small and insignificant beside the sight of a red-and-gold clad Indian maharajah, with a ruby in his head-dress which, while not quite the size of a pigeon's egg, must have been at least the size of a quail's.

I'll leave you with the thought of me, swaying like a large pink blossom round the Ballroom floor with a nameless young man, watching the slight awkwardness of the royal bride and groom-to-be dancing to the husky sound of Errol Brown and Hot Chocolate singing You Sexy Thing. Live of course.

Tomorrow, I'll take you right inside St Paul's with me. And tell you about The Wink...

Click HERE for Part 1 of The Royal Wedding Revelations

The Royal Wedding Revelations--EXCLUSIVE! (Part 1)

2011-04-25T09:30:00.049+01:00

Ooh! Is Scribble City Central going to reveal secret information about Kate's Dress? Or The Honeymoon Location? Or what happened on William's Stag Night? Well, no...not exactly. Because I'm not talking about THIS Royal Wedding. I'm talking about the one on 29th July 1981. The one where William's parents tied the knot.

So where's the exclusive scoop in that, I hear you ask, (in maybe slightly disappointed tones)?
Well, let's just say I have a bit of a never-told-before insider's view of how things really happened all those years ago....
That wedding will be thirty years gone this July--so long ago that it qualifies as ancient history really. I guess I can write about how I was more closely involved than most now. And this week, when my old friend's son is getting married to the woman he loves with (not quite) all the fanfare and pomp that went with his parents' seems like the appropriate time to do so for the very first time. So you are getting a Royal Wedding Exclusive really--see, I never disappoint my loyal readers!

On 24th February 1981, a beautiful young woman called Lady Diana Spencer got engaged. To the Prince of Wales. So far, so public knowledge....

Now we'll skip right to the part where postman John rapped on the kitchen window of my parents' house one early June morning with a big grin on his face. "Got something here I think you'll want to open, Lucy," he said, handing over two large stiff cream envelopes both addressed to me. One had heavy black italic writing and was stamped in royal purple with 'Lord Chamberlain, St James's Palace' and a discreet purple crown. The other was marked 'The Master of the Household' and had a small round and becrowned EIIR in the bottom left corner.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

'The Lord Chamberlain is commanded by The Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh...' said the first, once I'd managed to find a sharp knife and slit it open with my slightly shaky hands.

'The Master of the Household is commanded by her Majesty...' said the second.

And so it was that a scruffy, impoverished young Edinburgh University student found that, like Cinderella, a fairy godmother (in the shape of a future princess) had waved a magic wand and invited her not only to be one of the 2,600 guests at the wedding of the century, but also to the very exclusive celebration ball at Buckingham Palace two days before. Tiaras could be worn by ladies if so desired, said the rather scary dress instructions enclosed. No worry there for me--I didn't desire, didn't have one and was advised that flowers would do. Decorations and Orders could be worn by gentlemen. That was no problem either. But then there was a strict mention of Long Kid Gloves.

Long Kid Gloves. I distinctly remember that was when I started to panic. Where did one beg, borrow or steal Long Kid Gloves from? Hearing of my predicament, a lady in the village came to the rescue, and lent me her precious pair, secreted in tissue paper since her own Presentation at Court circa 1925. Then there was The Ball Dress. That was Disaster Number One. I took all the money I had left from my student grant (not much) to London with me--and promptly had my bag stolen. In Fortnum and Mason's. I've never felt quite the same about the place since. Luckily my Real Godmother (small as a fairy but rather more solid) came to the rescue, and whisked me off to a tiny dressmaker in South Molton Street. She insisted, being rather old-fashioned, that pink was the colour for gels orf to the Palace. So pink it was. Rather a lot of pink as you see. I felt like a rose-coloured ship in full sail. With added petals.

Photograph copyright Lucy Coats 2011

Real Godmother also bought me a small round blue hat-with-veil to go with my St Paul's ensemble. Quite honestly, I should have been shot for crimes against fashion. Grey and purple checks with a blue hat? Still, I like to think that my dewy twenty year-old youth and beauty drew onlookers' eyes away from that truly awful outfit. And if not, at least there was the perky little hat veil.

Monday 27th July 1981 was hot and sultry. My long chestnutty hair was pouffed and plaited and teased and pinned within an inch of its life by the Hampshire hairdresser. Sprayed too, for the first time ever, so it stayed pristine and perfect for the night to come. There were several of us in the car on the way to the palace, dresses squashed together so tight the petticoats squeaked--the others were chattering excitedly, but all I remember is feeling awe and terror as we drove past the saluting guardsmen, through Those Gates, and swept round and under the columns of the inner portico. There was a queue of guests lining the long double sweep of red-carpeted stair with its ornate curving balustrade. At the top waited an imposing line of royals, arrayed in glittering jewels, silks and satins, with small diamond-framed family portraits pinned to their shoulders on incongruously faded scraps of silken ribbon. The tiaras, crowns, medals and Orders were out in force everywhere, but I was otherwise engaged, concentrating frantically on The Curtsey as I reached the top of the stairs. Now comes the tale of Disaster Number Two...but you'll have to come back tomorrow to find out What Happened Next!
Click Here for Part 2 The Palace Ball
Click Here for Part 3 St Paul's Cathedral

British Books Challenge 2011 - The Opposite of Amber by Gillian Philip

2011-04-19T11:17:00.001+01:00

Gillian Philip writes like a dream. Whether she's turning her hand to a fantasy Scotland where exiled Sithe faeries roam the land or, as here, a modern YA crime novel with a challenging subject, she's a winner from any reader's point of view.

I knew how The Opposite of Amber was going to end from the first page of the book. What I didn't know (and Gillian made me sweat and gnaw my nails to find out) was how she was going to get me there. Have no doubts, this is not a novel which pulls its punches. It deals with a very difficult subject indeed--and it does it sensitively and with great compassion. Ruby, the 'heroine' is a great character--memorably described by Gillian as 'spoiled voiceless'. I loved her--she is finely written, a truly rounded creation who reminded me a little of Laurie Halse Anderson's Melinda Sordino in Speak, (about which I have written elsewhere).

But it is her older sister, Jinn, who made me cry with the sad inevitability of her fate. In Jinn, Gillian shows how a series of small wrong-headed decisions made in the name of love can tip a young, well-meaning, caring girl into the kind of low-level 'unprofessional' prostitution which exists on the streets of every town. Yes. Every town. Yours too. Jinn loves Nathan, her no-good drug addict boyfriend (and as an aside here, the way Gillian deals with Ruby's initial innocence and eventual realisation about the paraphernalia of crack cocaine is no less than brilliant). She wants--as many women do in abusive relationships--to save him. To do that, she gives up everything--her home, her relationship with her sister, her job--and eventually, the rights to her own body, leading to her fate at the hands of a killer (and no, I'm not going to tell you who it is or anything more about that at all!). She tries so hard, so desperately to make things right because she is first and foremost a carer--an enabler--although the one person she doesn't look after is herself. Of course, we, as onlookers, know that whatever she does will never be enough to save Nathan--because the only one who can save him is himself. This is a brave, wonderful novel which should not just be read by teenagers. It should be read by everyone who cares about making sure that the many real-life girls like Jinn who find themselves in situations similar to this can get help and support and above all knowledge that they absolutely can have other choices in their lives. Buy it for yourself, buy it for others. A real 5* book.

Now, as always happens on Scribble City Central, Gillian has been kind enough to answer one of my famous and challenging

BURNING QUESTIONS

SCC: Where dead bodies are concerned, water plays an important part in both Bad Faith and The Opposite of Amber. Why do you find the combination of running water and corpses such a fascinating and powerful image?"

GP: Lucy, this is a googly! I hadn’t thought of it like that before, but now that you mention it...

Maybe it’s partly to do with where I live. I often say I get a lot of my ideas from landscape, and walking around in it, and if there’s one thing Scotland isn’t short of, it’s water. I always did love waterscapes, whether sea or river or loch. I spent huge amounts of my childhood sploshing around in it – lived for 15 years in Aberdeen, which has the most beautiful, vast and desolate beach, and the beach was the default place to go for laughs, games, romance, mooching over a lost love... I suppose that even in Crossing The Line, a crucial scene takes place in water (though not a death, for once!) when Nick goes midnight swimming with Orla – and yes, that was based on one of my own teenage habits...

It’s so fundamental, water, isn’t it? Life and death and this incredible irresistible power. Bits of Bad Faith were inspired by the Moray floods of a few years ago. We live at the top of a hill – lucky us – but the river Lossie is right at the bottom of it, and when the water starts to rise we can see and hear it. It’s spectacular and it’s terrifying. It seemed perfectly natural to put a body in that torrent – which can hide things, and quite unexpectedly reveal them...

But it can do the same when it’s calm and beautiful. Completely peaceful water can conceal things you wouldn’t want to see up close, which is what occurred to me when I was looking for a place to put a body in The Opposite of Amber. There’s a distillery pond I pass every morning on the school run, and it can be choppy and wild or it can be like a sheet of glass. One day I got out of the car for a closer look; the bank kind of slopes back beneath itself, and it struck me that anything could get caught under there...

All this notwithstanding, I must try to be more original! I was starting a new piece of work just yesterday, and I thought “must-not-soak-corpse...” Thanks for a fascinating question, Lucy!

SCC: Thanks for a fascinating answer--and I'm glad I bowled you a googly on this one. Always good to make you consider something you'd never thought about!

Undiscovered Voices 2012 - How Published Writers Can Help You

2011-04-06T08:30:00.014+01:00

I'm delighted to be kicking off the blog tour to celebrate yesterday's launch of the submissions process for Undiscovered Voices 2012, which will be published next year. In case you don't know about it yet, Undiscovered Voices is the very successful joint publishing project between SCBWI British Isles and Working Partners which has now launched several writing careers. In fact, from SCBWI's first two Undiscovered Voices anthologies, 13 of the 24 selected authors have had publication contracts for their novels and most have signed with agents. Well worth submitting then, I hope you'll agree!

So, as an undiscovered voice--an unpublished writer--how do you tap into the wisdom of those who have already overcome all those daunting hurdles that stand in the way of getting a publishing contract? The good news is that it's a whole lot easier than it used to be. Those of you who are regular readers of Scribble City Central will know that this is mostly due to that wonderful thing, The Author Platform. Those of you who are new here--well, welcome, and hold onto your hats for the whirlwind tour!

Very briefly, The Author Platform means that published writers in all genres are out there in the virtual world of blogging, social networking and even on YouTube. No longer are we stuck in a tiny garret, blowing on our frozen fingers, wrapped in shawls and never communicating with anyone except the characters in our heads (and occasionally our editors or agents). No. We are now get-attable. Well, some of us are, anyway. There are still those who think that all this internet stuff is the Work of the Devil, and prefer to stick to the old methods of pencil and paper and smoke signals. I'm not one of them. I've embraced my author platform with great gusto (possibly rather too much gusto in fact--but that's another story entirely). So. How can published writers help you? How does all this authory wisdom benefit you, the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed undiscovered voice?

Author blogs often have great advice, both on writing itself, and on the business of being published. If you look to the right of this post, you'll see a page titled All the Writing 101 Productions. That's my own rather odd and eccentric writing advice. A couple of the very best 'getting published' author bloggers to check out are Nicola Morgan at Help! I Need a Publisher and Jane Smith at How Publishing Really Works, and of course there are all the other blogs on this tour to explore too. If you comment on author blogs, and ask short, intelligent and relevant questions about the post or something related to it, most authors will reply 9 times out of 10, and it can be an interesting and helpful dialogue to get into. However, when I say relevant, I mean relevant! Please don't go off on some long-winded spiel about your own manuscript here, as it won't be appreciated.
Twitter is a great place for chatting to authors. Lots of us hang out in the enormous bookie community there (I'm at @lucycoats if you want to chat to me!), and there are publishers, agents, illustrators, booksellers and loads of other booktweeps as well. Don't be afraid to jump in and comment on a conversation if it interests you. That's what Twitter is, a big public conversation--and I have huge fun 'talking' to loads of people both about writing and other stuff--I find my Twitter friends a great source of support and comfort. For you as an undiscovered voice it can be equally nice to have some positive encouragement from the wider writing community, and also to see that us published people moan on about really crap writing days too (fairly often in my case) as well as talking about the happier (and considerably rarer) stuff like getting a new contract or a foreign rights deal! By the way, if you want to see this year's Undiscovered Voices story as it unfolds, why not follow @UndiscVoice2012 too?
Author websites are always worth checking out. Who do you admire as a writer? Type their name into Google and see if they have their own site. Quite often there'll be a FAQ section which can have some interesting insights into the writing process. You may also be able to email your favourite authors from here. However--another piece of 'don't advice' here, I'm afraid--if you send an email about your own work, don't expect a busy author to spend time critiquing your manuscript for free. There are other routes for that, so please don't ask or expect any author to do this for you gratis!
Facebook is where lots of authors have 'fan pages' as well as personal pages. I'm not sure it's particularly useful in the context of this piece--though perhaps you might like to keep up with where various authors may be speaking or bookshop visiting if you want to go along and meet them.
YouTube may seem an odd place to hang out for an author, but it's where more and more of us are putting book trailers, or readings of our work, or, in my case, short video clips of school visits. It's one to watch (excuse the horrid pun), because I think a lot of writers will be using it more and more to promote themselves. There's no reason why an undiscovered writer shouldn't do this too. If you're good at the techy film stuff, why not make a short video piece about your book or story? At the very least, it is an exercise in how it sounds read out loud! If you make it quirky or witty or viewable enough, you never know who might be watching! Stranger things have happened.

In short, the virtual landscape means that as a fledgling writer you no longer have to feel that you're alone in a scary world where you have no idea how to take the next step. With all the wealth of author platform wisdom now at your disposal, you can find out anything and everything you need to know about the long hard process of turning your undiscovered gem into a publishable work (or even a bestseller!). Good luck!

The blog tour continues tomorrow when Keren David will be giving more helpful advice to aspiring writers at Almost True

You can find out about the submission rules for Undiscovered Voices HERE

For My Mother

2011-04-03T19:56:00.000+01:00

Today is Mothering Sunday, so here's a small poetic tribute to my own mum.

Beacon

Come walk with me.
Let's breach the bridge of years,
pluck each shaped stone of life
to hurl at stars
or hold as memory....

When I was small
the smell of you was safety.
The shape of your hands--
scarred with blood, bone and blessed Earth--
became my home as soon as held.
Your gallant rain-bowed figure,
trudging before,
became my beacon and my hope.

Library Saviours or Council Spindoctors? - The Truth Behind the Happy Headlines

2011-03-14T08:30:00.002Z

"Please can someone start telling the truth?"
That's the question I was asked by Paula Davies, chair of the Friends of Roade Library in Northamptonshire, one recent Friday afternoon. Well, yes, Paula. I will. Because I want to save Roade Library and all the other libraries under threat as much as you do.

For those who may have missed it (hard to do if you're a reader of this blog or any British newspaper) our libraries are in danger from Government cuts. There are many of us fighting against this cultural vandalism, but the ones on the true front line of the battle (apart from the librarians themselves) are the mostly unsung heroes and heroines who have, sometimes at very short notice, formed the Friends groups for their local libraries. Paula Davies of the Friends of Roade Library is such a person, along with her colleagues. On 5th February 2011 I took part in Roade's National Library Protest Day event, which you can read about HERE. On 15th February I was called by the local BBC newsroom and asked for a comment on the news that “Northants County Council have scrapped plans to close the 8 rural libraries that were to be shut as part of the £180k savings”.

"Well, whoopee, I said rather cautiously. If it's true. But I'll have to see the detail before I dance a jig and open the champagne". How right I was to be a cynic. Because behind that happy headline lay an untold story.

The Friends of the 8 libraries facing the axe had worked hard and raised more than £40k, (during an incredibly short consultation period), to help NCC reduce the deficit.
That's why they got a stay-of-execution. The headline-grabbing LIBRARIES SAVED BY COUNCIL announcement was pure 'let's make ourselves look good to the voters' smoke-and-mirrors by NCC, who, in reality had had to do almost no work at all. NCC are just going to use that handy volunteer-raised money to keep the libraries open--temporarily.

There was an unfortunate and unforseen outcome of those happy headlines, as well. All the people and businesses who had so kindly pledged large amounts (in a cash-strapped environment) to save the libraries thought that there was no longer a need to do so. Those 'happy headlines' had given them the mistaken impression that the council had done a U-turn and found the funds within their own budget. That basically ripped the rug out from under the library Friends. And next year it will be worse. Unless the library Friends raise more large sums from the community, they'll be in an even more precarious position. Because next year NCC say they have to find £300k to balance the books. No doubt they'll use the temporary cash reprieve the Friends have given them to put the fear of God into the other 28 'unthreatened' libraries and ensure they start raising funds too, so as to reduce the NCC libraries budget to a negligible amount.

The Friends of Roade Library have had their task spelled out in no uncertain terms. They must contribute a minimum of £4,500 to NCC in 2011/12, continue paying in 2012/13 and again in 13/14, with the possibility of ever-rising contributions. Councillor Andre Gonzalez de Savage says that NCC need to "use [Roade] as trailblazers for the future of library services in the county." and to trumpet their example as "the impetus for others to work to raise local funding and galvanise...voluntary efforts." Oh good. So that's all wonderful, then. Well done, Roade. Trailblazers, eh? Paula Davies would just like to know where it all stops. I would too, and I'd like to ask a few more questions as well.

Are NCC accurate in their assessment of the monies needed to run Roade and the other libraries?
How can we know they are giving us accurate figures unless NCC justify taking this volunteer-raised money from the people of Roade and elsewhere in Northamptonshire by giving complete and open access to their accounts?
Will the Central Library (forinstance) be exempt from raising funds to help keep it open? If so, how is this fair to the other 35 Northamptonshire libraries?
What will happen to the libraries that are unable to raise any additional funding (there are only 22 Friends groups and a total of 36 libraries)?
Will those libraries which are capable of raising funds be forced to use their hard-won monies to help support those libraries that can't/won't?

I wonder, too, whether the Friends of each library will have any say in how 'their' money is spent? Will they have the power to allocate their own funding to suit the individual needs of their own library? In this public, open forum, I'd like to ask someone from NCC to give Paula and me some truthful answers to all these questions. But I won't be holding my breath and twiddling my thumbs while I wait. I'll be nagging Andrea Leadsom, my local MP (again) to get properly engaged with our fight to save this essential community resource for future generations. It should be just as big and important a button on her website as Wind Farms or High Speed Rail.

AND THE WINNERS OF THE WEST OF THE MOON COPIES ARE....

2011-03-11T17:46:00.001Z

I've whirled and twirled my magic pieces of paper in the little red Nis hat, and these are the lucky winners who emerged triumphant:

.......DRUMROLL......

The blog comment copies go to:
pressed posies
and
Swan Artworks

The Twitter RT copies go to:
@BethKemp
and
@storylaura (from the good ol' USA).

If all of you would like to email me by clicking HERE or on the envelope at the bottom of this post (or DM me on Twitter @lucycoats) and send your addresses, then your winnings will be winging their way to you as fast as the Royal Mail can whisk them onto the back of the North Wind. Congratulations to all of you from Katherine and from me! And thanks to everyone for entering. There'll be more giveaway chances soon on SCC, so don't go away!

LAST DAY TO WIN COPIES OF WEST OF THE MOON - ENTER NOW!

2011-03-11T09:54:00.000Z

Just a reminder that today is positively your LAST CHANCE to enter the competition to win 4 lovely copies of

WEST OF THE MOON

BY KATHERINE LANGRISH.

CLICK HERE AND LEAVE COMMENTS ON THE ORIGINAL GIVEAWAY POST TO ENTER!

You have till 5pm GMT TODAY!

My Complementary World Book Night Giveaway-on-a-Train (& a Brief Encounter)

2011-03-05T15:35:00.000Z

So what's a complementary World Book Night? Well, it all started with the ineffably Crabbit Nicola Morgan, who made the very fair point that giving away a million free books wasn't necessarily the best thing for struggling independent booksellers, and that perhaps there was Another Way which might address that. You may have caught her saying so at the end of Newsnight on Thursday. As an alternative, she suggested a simple but brilliant idea, namely that people could sign up to the idea of buying just one book, write in it "Given in the spirit of World Book Night and bought from ___ . Please enjoy and tell people about it." And give it away. You can read her original post HERE.

Well, I wasn't going to be able to take part in the 'real' World Book Night, and I liked Nicola's idea very much. So I signed up.

On Thursday I went to my local independent bookshop, the wonderful Old Hall Bookshop in Brackley, Northamptonshire. You can see from the picture what a pleasure it is to shop in this lovely building with its well-stocked shelves and its airy friendly book-smelling atmosphere. I scurried around, sniffing out favourite books that I'd read and loved. I wanted to give mainly to teenagers, so I chose those sorts of books. Here are the two I picked....

The third book I decided to give away (for a slightly younger age) was one of my own. It was a strange experience, buying my own book in a bookshop, but I was so grateful that they stocked it!

So what next? Go and chat to lovely booksellers Christine and Carey, of course. They were very happy to hear what I was doing. Here they are behind the desk with my purchases.

Carey Percival and Christine Bridger of The Old Hall Bookshop

Now, cut to King's Cross Station on Saturday morning. I got lost. Here's where I ended up. I felt it was a Good Omen...

I scanned the passengers boarding the Edinburgh-bound train minutely. Who would it be? How would I know? How would they respond to a complete stranger shoving a free book at them? I decided to have a sit down and a cuppa and let everyone settle in their seats. Then, as the train reached Yorkshire, I picked up my brown paper bag and made my way up through the whole swaying, rattling train from one end to the other. I was nervous, I'll admit. It was such a strange thing to be doing--but I was excited too. There were lots of teenagers. Most of them were asleep. This was not promising. Wake a sleeping teen at your peril is my experience. I worked my way down again. Ah, here was an awake one. I made my offer.

"Er, no thanks. I've already got a book." Not a promising start. I was downcast. Perhaps this wouldn't work. Then I spotted a blonde boy chatting to his mum and dad. Did he like books, I asked him.

"Ooh, yes,|" he said in a fab Geordie accent. So Hootcat Hill was duly handed over, to big smiles and round-eyed wonder that an author should be giving him one of her own books, 'signed and all!" Then there were three more refusals. Quite polite, but they obviously thought I was mad. Then a solitary girl, immersed in a magazine. Was that her preferred reading matter? No. She liked books very much and took Troubadour by Mary Hoffman with alacrity. One to go. Two giggly young ladies. Were they interested? Definitely! So they tossed a coin (shades of Nicola Morgan's book, Wasted) for Sigrun's Secret by Marie-Louise Jensen. The dark-haired one won, but she's going to lend it to her friend when she's finished. What a result!

And then, lovely readers, my World Book Night adventure took a surreal turn. I'd been tweeting back and forth with @EffieMerryl since we were both doing WBN giveaways on trains. Now this is where it gets weird.... We were both going in the same direction. Could it be that she had a seat booked on my train? In the same carriage? We both thought so for a few glorious minutes. But it was not to be. However, Nil Desperandum! We arranged to meet on Platform 2 of Newcastle Station (where my train was stopping for a second and hers was leaving from), so that she could hand over one of her WBN books and we could meet. It was a bookish Brief Encounter. We hugged, we snapped each other on phone cameras, and we waved farewell in in a cloud of steam (oh alright, I made the cloud of steam up). It took all of three minutes.

Effie Merryl

And I am now the proud owner of Kate Atkinson's Started Early, Took My Dog, a book I've been wanting to read for AGES and was intending to take on holiday with me anyway. Thank you, Effie (I wish I'd still had a WBN book to give YOU!). And thank you Nicola Morgan for putting this brilliant, amazing, book-giving, reading-enhancing, fantabulous idea into all our heads!

West of the Moon - WIN COPIES!

2011-03-04T08:30:00.003Z

To celebrate its Kindle publication day, those kind people at Harper Collins Children's Books have sent me 4 whole paperback copies of Katherine Langrish's wonderful

WEST OF THE MOON

(see my glowing review in the post below) to give away.

4 BOOKS = 4 WINNERS

So what do you have to do? It's very easy. I'll pick two winners from blog commenters here on Scribble City Central, and two winners from Twitter retweeters.

So:

Comment on this post and tell us your favourite Norse hero or heroine for a chance to win.
Follow me on Twitter at @lucycoats and retweet my #WoTM tweets for a chance to win.
Why not do both and give yourself an extra chance?

That's it! The four winners will be picked out of a hat when the competition closes at 5pm GMT on Friday 11th March, and the books will be sent out once I have addresses. Good luck to all of you! Oh yes, and the competition is open INTERNATIONALLY so everyone can enter wherever they are!
PS: if you absolutely can't wait to get hold of a copy, you can download it for your Kindle right now, or order a hard copy from Amazon (or better still, your local independent bookstore).

The British Books Challenge 2011 - Review of West of the Moon by Katherine Langrish

2011-03-01T08:30:00.005Z

I'm delighted to be reviewing Katherine Langrish's West of the Moon on the third stop of a massive blog tour to celebrate its new incarnation as one gorgeous omnibus volume. Equally exciting, the publishers have agreed to a

FANTASTIC BOOK GIVEAWAY COMPETITION

this Friday (4th March), so do come back again and check out the details!

I was a fan of Katherine Langrish's troll trilogy as soon as I started reading it two summers ago, but this revised edition is definitely something special and should bring her many new fans. For a start (and this is important in getting readers to pick up the book in the first place), the new cover is simply marvellous--icy and enticing, with just a hint of the stark landscapes inside the book. But of course, one shouldn't judge by appearances. What I was surprised by (and shouldn't have been, because I know how beautifully Katherine writes), was how well West of the Moon reads as one big book instead of three separate ones--how each part flows smoothly and seamlessly into the next.

Peer Ulfsson's journey from boy to young man takes him from his father's funeral pyre to the forests of a strange new land. What happens along the way is a story in the best traditions of Viking saga fantasy with a good dose of fairytale mixed in. His childhood is plagued with wicked uncles and trolls--Norse folklore is a constant undercurrent running through these books--but this is also a coming-of-age novel. Peer has to deal with his growing feelings for the beautiful and resourceful Hilde--not always easy when she scorns him as a little boy who looks like a heron, quite unlike the blue-eyed, handsome Arne. I'm not going to put up any plot spoilers, so you'll have to believe me when I say that the culminating part of West of the Moon, where Peer and Hilde travel to Vinland is a truly breathtaking and original tale of two differing cultures meeting--but also a story of how the past catches up with the present, not always happily or tidily.

What struck me as I read was the quality of the writing and how marvellously Katherine has created the feel of the Viking period. No horned helmets here, thank goodness, just lots of well-researched small and fascinating details scattering the text like gracenotes. I was also delighted to meet the eccentric Nis again--and wished, as I always do, for a Nithing to grace my own house with its housekeeping skills and its red hat. If you like Vikings, trolls and adventure, leavened with a good dose of subtle humour, then this is the book for you. Highly recommended.

Katherine was kind enough to answer my usual

BURNING QUESTION

SCC: How does it feel to go back and look at your books again as you have done for West of the Moon? Was it a hard process to go back and revise--or was it actually quite enjoyable?

KL: It felt brilliant. It was the chance every author longs for and rarely gets – the chance to go back over already published work and do it better.

That doesn’t mean the books were awful to start with. My first book, Troll Fell, took me two years to write (I began it in autumn 1999) and another two years of revision, revision and more revision. It’s set in the Viking era, with trolls and other spirits borrowed from Scandinavian folklore, and features both a hero and a heroine, sensitive Peer and confident Hilde. By the time the book was published in 2004, it was a colourful, exciting fantasy, and the best I could possibly do. But of course authors, like everyone else, get better at what we do the longer we go on doing it. By 2010, with four books under my belt, I would occasionally leaf through Troll Fell and wish I hadn’t used quite so many adjectives here – or adverbs there – or written that particular purple passage – or used phrases like ‘…he whispered quietly’. (He was whispering, for heaven’s sake. Obviously he was quiet.)

So I was thrilled when HarperCollins decided to republish the trilogy in one omnibus edition. We knew the three books were a bit too long to publish in one volume without some cuts – but, rather than weeping over this, I welcomed it. I could go back and sort out some of the things I’d been itching to put right! Yay! And another advantage of having all three books in one volume was that I could do away with the explanatory material every author has to include in the early pages of sequels so that new readers (who may not have read the other books) will understand who these characters are, and something of their back-story.

Troll Fell was originally written as a stand-alone. I didn’t know if it would even find a publisher, so there was no point in daydreaming about a trilogy! Then, when HarperCollins asked me for a sequel – and a third after that – I discovered myself writing a trilogy after all. And the books got darker and stronger as I went along. There were threads running through all three – the same characters, obviously, though I added new ones in each book as Peer and Hilde grew older and had more adventures – but also threads of self-discovery, and the longing to travel far away to distant lands. And – of course – romance. It was clear to me even in the first book that Peer was going to fall in love with Hilde. It was a lot less clear that she would feel the same way about him. Indeed, even in Book 1, there’s a handsome fisherman, Arne, who is an obvious rival for Hilde’s affections. The path of true love never did run smooth, and Peer and Hilde have an awful lot to face, and to discover about themselves and others, before they really come to know their own hearts. How lucky I was to be able to follow them for three whole books and discover what happens….

For this new edition, we needed an overall title. West of the Moon was my working title for Troll Blood and all of us – my publisher, agent and I – had a soft spot for it. It seems to express the longing for adventure that Peer and Hilde both feel, as well as hinting at the strong fairytale and fantasy elements of the story.

For me, West of the Moon now works as a complete trilogy, the coming-of-age story of a young man who doesn’t see himself as a hero, who is thoughtful, self-doubting, but also determined and truly courageous. As Hilde says at a terrible moment in Book 3:

“Peer always thinks he isn’t brave. But he is brave. He’s the bravest person I ever met.”

SCC: Thanks, Katherine. I couldn't have asked for a better answer!

Katherine's next stop on the tour is: MOSTLY BOOKS where she'll be tomorrow (2nd March). Don't forget to come back to Scribble City Central on Friday 4th March for the book giveaway competition!

Her website is: http://www.katherinelangrish.co.uk/
Her blog is: http://www.steelthistles.blogspot.com/ (and I can safely say it's one of the best blogs out there on folklore and fairytale--do go and read the Fairytale Reflections series, which can't be beaten for fascinating author insights into the Otherworld).
Her Twitter handle is: http://twitter.com/KathLangrish

The British Books Challenge 2011 - Review of My Swordhand is Singing by Marcus Sedgwick

2011-02-24T10:16:00.000Z

I don't know why, but I've had a big timelag in my reading of Marcus Sedgwick. I started well with The Book of Dead Days and Dark Flight Down, both of which I loved, but somehow, after that, I missed out for a long while. And then, last November, I met Marcus at the SCBWI UK conference, where he and I were both speaking. Naturally I had a browse around all his titles, and oh joy! I discovered that he'd written a vampire novel. Not just any vampire novel, either, but one that tapped into the most ancient Eastern European vampire lore. Of course, I bought My Swordhand is Singing immediately, and Marcus was kind enough to sign it and even to draw me a special smiley coffin.

I've come late to vampires. Maybe I've become braver as I approach middle-age, maybe being scared of things that go bump in the night just takes up too much energy. Whatever it is, I no longer hide behind the sofa at the sight of a roving fang or a pool of spilt blood on the TV, or under the bedclothes at the mention of a silken cloak or a white face rising out of a coffin. However, My Swordhand is Singing is not about the modernised, almost civilised vampires we have come to know from recent 'dark fiction', nor is it in any way, shape or form related to the goodie-goodie vanilla vampires of Twilight. It is from a much much older and darker tradition than that. Some time ago (long before the current vamp-craze) I did some research into the Eastern European legends of the Moroi and other night creatures for a book I was then writing. Marcus too has delved deep into those stories, and his book conjures that aura of raw terror which is what all the best old monster legends are made of.

Peter and his father Tomas, both woodcutters, are newly-arrived outsiders in the village of Chust. Tomas is drunken, secretive, violent--and Peter doesn't understand many of the things his father does, including why he has dug a channel so that their hut is surrounded by running water. Chust is a closed, suspicious village--and it is riddled with the undead, who rise from their graves and infect the whole community. This is certainly a Gothic horror story--but it is much more than that. Marcus delineates his characters with care and skill--and the sub-plot (equal in importance) which runs alongside the thrilling main story of the rise of the Shadow Queen is that of a father-and-son relationship full of terrible loss and also of a kind of sorrowful, elegaic redemption. It's one of those stories where you long for it to come all right in the end, even though you know it can't. I stayed up all of one night reading--and no doubt I shall stay up on another when I read the sequel, The Kiss of Death. Highly recommended for weaning teens off saccharine vampires, and for all who like good writing and a damn fine story.

Here's Marcus's answer to my usual

BURNING QUESTION

SCC: At Radu's funeral, the priest surrounds the corpse with hawthorn twigs. In the Celtic mythic tradition the hawthorn is associated, amongst other things with the advance of Summer and the defeat of Winter. Given the theme of the battle between the Shadow Queen and the Winter King which runs throughout My Swordhand is Singing, were you aware of the symbolisms attached to this particular wood when you wrote the book?

MS: The short answer is yes, hawthorn is one of the more magical woods in many European traditions, and I found it enjoyable seeing these things blurred and spread across various folk traditions, including that of the Transylvanian vampire lore. Incidentally, the apparent 'practical' origin of the thorn was that it would pop a bloated corpse, thus taking away some of its apparently evil manifestation.

SCC: Thanks, Marcus. I somehow know that that idea of popping a bloated corpse is going to stay with me for some time.

The British Book Challenge 2011 - Review of WE by John Dickinson

2011-02-21T16:57:00.001Z

I'd better come clean here. I'm not a great fan of classic space science fiction. It doesn't speak to my heart, somehow--maybe I just haven't tried hard enough to love it as much as I do high fantasy. So why have I chosen to review WE, whose back cover blurb starts with the very sci-fi sentence "In the furthest, coldest, darkest reaches of our solar system, Paul Munro is on a mission from which he can never return."? Well, for one thing it's by John Dickinson, whose previous books I have loved, for a second, it's longlisted for the CILIP Carnegie Medal 2011, and for a third, I kept catching glimpses of high praise for it here and there on the social networks. I definitely wanted to give it a go.

WE inserted itself into my consciousness without my really realising it--and that's a strange thing, given what the book's title actually translates as. WE is the World Ear, and every human on Earth is plugged into it. It runs and rules their consciousnesses. Want a fact?--just think it, and the WE will come back with an answer. Want an image? A list? A personal communication? The WE will provide. It rules every aspect of human life. Imagine that--and then imagine it being taken away. Worse, imagine waking up a million billion miles from everything you've ever known, and having to live with people--other humans, yes--but who look and think so differently from you as to be almost alien. People who communicate with their voices, not their minds. People with hidden secrets and maybe hidden agendas. What then? That is what Paul Munro has to contend with when he arrives on his desolate, icy moon home.

WE is published by David Fickling Books, but it's certainly not a children's book per se. I'd give it to an older teenager--indeed it's on Lovely Daughter's summer holiday pile already. But I'd also recommend it for adults. It's a book which made me think a lot, not least about how we modern humans relate to the other people around us, both near and far--and how our social communications patterns have already changed beyond recognition from, let us say, fifteen or twenty years ago. It wasn't particularly comfortable thinking, either. But although it is certainly bleak in both subject matter and setting, it's not a book without hope. I liked it very much indeed, partly because its subject and tone IS so very different from my usual reading matter. It's also made me think that perhaps I should give sci-fi another chance after all.

Now, as will become apparent with all my forays into reviewing, I am reader who always has questions for the author. John was kind enough to agree to answer one of mine. So here he is with a reply to my

BURNING QUESTION

SCC: Given the startling and rapid rise of social networking and technology in the last five years, it isn't hard to imagine a progression to something like the World Ear. Do you think it is essential for authors to spend part of their time interacting with their readers via social networks such as Facebook and Twitter, or do you think we are getting sucked into something dangerously addictive, which will eventually drain all the creativity out of us?"

John D: That's an interesting question Lucy, though I think the interesting bit is more to do with creativity than with the relentless advance of technology.

Our creative ideas come from our experience, either from things we have seen and can remember, or from stuff that happened way back and has got replayed to us through our subconsious. Interacting with others should be one of the richest experiences we can have and should give us all kinds of ideas. Maybe talking through a screen isn't the richest way of doing it, (and I personally do not find it addictive), but it's surprising what things our minds will latch on to and start to use. No, if on-line social networks pose a threat to our creativity it will be because they lead us to divert said creativity into trying to be as witty and entertaining and insightful in person as we are in our books. But this is a problem authors and artists have always had.

How would creativity happen in a society shaped by on-line networking, as I have imagined in WE? Our experience would be such that we would not really think of ourselves as 'I' but as ' a part of WE'. That would determine the kind of things we wanted to create. There would still be creativity, I think, but it would be more likely to be a mass creativity, such as you see whan a crowd starts a Mexican wave or a group of people burst out singing and naturally find a harmony. The individual artist might still exist but their work would be hard to understand. And no one would seek them out on Facebook or Twitter. Why should they? Celebrity would be dead. Nobody would want, in any sense, to be that person. Because 'a person' would no longer be what we were.

SCC: Thank you, John. I'll have to go away and think about all that some more now!

Northants Council Does U-turn on Libraries! --BREAKING NEWS--

2011-02-15T11:51:00.001Z

I am (cautiously) delighted to tell you that Northamptonshire County Council has just announced that they have reversed their decision on library cuts, and that 'no library will close at this point'. The Chronicle and Echo reported that all Northamptonshire Libraries (including Roade) are 'expected to be saved from the chop'. This is really excellent news (if true), and many congratulations should go to all those who fought so hard on February 5th to get their point across to councillors.

However--a word of warning. The battle is not over yet. The council has pointed out in its press release that there will be 'a fundamental review of the library service to make it fit for the 21st century'. They also use phrases like, 'merging with other local services', 'community-led independent libraries', 'prosperity or volunteering hubs'--and fostering 'intergenerational activities'. In short, they want a 'Big Society Library Service' here. But what do the council tax payers of Northamptonshire want? I just talked to Richard Purves of BBC Radio Northampton and reiterated my feelings on the importance of libraries. I hope people will hear what I had to say and want to get vocal for their own local. We have a little tiny breathing space now to think about what is next. I'll be working with my local libraries and discussing what I can do to help--but I'm only one person. We've seen what people power can do in Egypt--and what it did on behalf of libraries on 5th February 2011. So please, if you're reading this and you're in Northamptonshire--go to your local library TODAY and give them your support. We fight on!

Guardian and Others Pick Up Amis Post

2011-02-11T20:23:00.001Z

I'm delighted that Benedicte Page the Guardian Books editor has picked up my Awfully Big Blog Adventure Amis piece--you can read what the Graun say (and all the comments)

HERE

THE DAILY TELEGRAPH,

THE HUFFINGTON POST (USA) and

THE INDEPENDENT

have also published the story. I'm feeling like the small pebble who started the avalanche and learning a lot about the power of the meejah.

In Which I Defend Children's Books Against A Literary Twit

2011-02-09T15:59:00.000Z

Today I'm over on An Awfully Big Blog Adventure giving literati novelist Martin Amis a b*ll*cking for his quite unnecessary onslaught on children's writing. Lots of commenting going on from the lovely kidlit community, but no response from Amis (not that I expected one). Please do go over and see what it's all about (you may want to join in!). The link is

HERE

Save Our Libraries Day - The Read-In At Roade Library, Northamptonshire

2011-02-05T17:46:00.001Z

Roade Sign copyright James Rudd www.AboutMyArea.co.uk/nn12

The library at Roade was crammed as I arrived. Simply jammed with wall-to-wall people--all ages from babies in arms to the very elderly. They were all determined to save their library from closure, to make their voices heard, and to give support to their two knowledgeable, enthusiastic and utterly irreplaceable librarians.

The Roade Crowd

The newly-formed Friends of Roade Library were out in force with tea and the most wonderful array of cakes, the press photographer from the Chronicle and Echo was snapping away, as was James Rudd of TowcesterNews (to whom many thanks for permission to use some of the photos here). There were four of us local authors--Julia Jarman and me for the children's book side, and Leo and Cassandra McNeir for the adults.

Lucy and Books copyright James Rudd www.AboutMyArea.co.uk/nn12

I talked to so many people today. There was a lady who comes to the library up to four times a week--for books--but also for social life, for clubs, for chatting to friends. "Where else could I go, if this was closed?" she asked me. I spoke to a retired teacher, looking at a guidebook to Australia where she's off to visit friends soon. "I just popped in to check something. I use the library all the time. It's essential to me." I heard about the elderly gentleman who comes in for his audiobooks--the librarian knows just what he likes, and takes care to set time aside to chat to him. I talked to the kids--who had made fantastic posters to make their point. DON'T CLOSE OUR LIBRARY All of them read books. All of them loved books. All of those kids had been coming to borrow books the library since before they could walk. Roade Library is essential to all of them in so many different ways.

Emergency Library Aid Needed!

While I was hearing stories from the people who use Roade, there was a lively Rhymetime session going on in the children's corner--complete with variations! The kids joined in enthusiastically--and no wonder.

Rhymetime at Roade

Then it was Julia Jarman's turn to read one of her lovely picture books--and all the time, people were coming and going from Roade and all the surrounding communities, signing up for the library, taking out books, returning them, asking advice--saying how much they loved and valued their library.

A Quiet Moment

One little boy had seized on the book he wanted and, not wanting to wait a moment longer to open it, had settled down in one of the few quiet corners to read.

While Leo McNeir was reading an extract from his latest crime novel, I joined the young badge makers at the back of the children's area--who made me a selection of excellent 'Save Roade Library' stickers--all of which I wore with great pride for the rest of the day. Then it was my turn to read--I think the children liked my attempt to snore like a giant best!

Lucy reading from Greek Beasts and Heroes

I had a great chat afterwards with a young lady who is destined to be a writer, I think, and who, the librarian told me, 'devours books as fast as I give them to her'. She settled down to read one of mine--and had finished it within the hour!

A Fanatical Library User

Meanwhile, we had been joined by Councillor Andre Gonzalez de Savage from Northamptonshire County Council, and by Councillor Stephen Clarke from South Northamptonshire Council. Councillor Gonzales de Savage tells me he trained as a librarian for 3 years, and worked as a school librarian at two schools in Hampstead. He must know how important libraries are--and yet...here he is in charge of trying to close eight of them in Northamptonshire. A little ironic, I feel, to say the least.

Councillor Clarke (l) and Counciller Gonzalez de Savage(r) of SNC and NCC

Councillor Gonzalez de Savage talked a great deal about the Government imposing cuts, but he said he was willing to listen and to work with Roade to try and find a solution. Here are some other things he said:
"I'm not working towards a negative for you." Well, we're glad to hear that, Councillor.
"I would vote 100% against the council [closing Roade Library] if there was a sustainable plan for funding." We will hold you to that, Sir!
On any 'matching' by the council of funds to money raised by voluntary donations: "Funding support is a one year scenario." So where does that leave Roade next year, then, Councillor?
"I will do what I possibly can to link communities who want to share libraries...I am passionate for libraries but [funding] has to be supported fiscally by communities." We already pay our taxes for the library, Councillor! But it's good to know you are 'passionate for libraries'.

Despite the huge show of support, there is a long way still to go for Roade. The Parish Council will be discussing the planned closure and how to prevent it as a matter of urgency--Paula Davies of the Friends of Roade Library has to put together a skeleton plan and get it to the council by Tuesday. Time is not on Roade's side. But the fight has started in earnest--Roade library was just one of many all over the country where people were getting vocal for their local. We will not give up. We will not go away. We will not be quiet. We can't. Libraries and the many things they give us are essential to a civilised and literate society. As Kathy Lette said recently: "Closing our libraries will make us a nation of numbskulls – the Illiterati." And none of us want that, do we?

Save Libraries on BBC Radio Northampton

2011-02-05T16:38:00.000Z

Here's the link to the #savelibraries piece on BBC Radio Northampton's Drivetime. You can find it at http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/console/p00d9bbz/Helen_Blaby_04_02_2011 You can find my interview at 51.10m Only 6 more days to listen!

Please Help Us to Save Libraries! GET VOCAL FOR YOUR LOCAL!

2011-02-04T12:19:00.001Z

Tomorrow (5th February) is a day of nationwide protests, read-ins and author events against the proposed cuts to our UK libraries (400+ under threat at the last count). I'll be at Roade Library in Northamptonshire from 10.30 to 1.30pm, with another children's author, the lovely Julia Jarman. We'll be talking to people about why libraries are so important for both children and adults, reading from our books--and giving out this statement (which originated from librarian and author Theresa Breslin in Scotland).

We would like to protest at the widespread cuts to the library service taking place throughout the UK. In addition to the promotion of knowledge, literacy, and information retrieval skills, a professionally delivered library service embeds the joy of reading in our young people, building self awareness, articulate self expression, confidence, validating their life and culture, and leads to social and emotional literacy. In a society experiencing a widening gap in household incomes, our libraries, in the great tradition on which they were first inaugurated and enshrined in the law of the land, provide access for all. The cuts to book budgets, library opening hours, mobile services, branches, and the drastic and unnecessary deletion of professional posts strike at those most in need of a library service and those least able to protest against the cuts in that service - the less affluent, the elderly, the frail, people who are challenged mentally and physically and their carers, those who look after babies and toddlers and, crucially, our children -who are our future.

I'll be on BBC Radio Northampton's Drivetime with Helen Blaby this afternoon, talking about why libraries are so crucial, and telling her that I wouldn't BE an author if I hadn't had my local library to feed my passion for books when I was a child. I'll post a listen again link to the programme when I have it.

Please, GET VOCAL FOR YOUR LOCAL and join in wherever you are!

There's a map of all library events at Voices for the Library so you can find out where your nearest event is.

All the recent media coverage is on Campaign for the Book founder Alan Gibbons' Blog

There's a fantastic and moving film by award-winning movie-makers @welovelibraries HERE Please watch it!

The Guardian's Theresa Malone will be blogging and tweeting events as they happen, you can tweet her at @culture_cuts and the hashtag will be #savelibraries

Thanks to Phil Bradley for the wonderful WWII inspired library posters, which you can find HERE

PLEASE PLEASE SPEAK UP NOW. IF WE LOSE OUR LIBRARIES THEY WILL NEVER RETURN. THEY WILL BE GONE FOREVER!

How to Use Myths and Legends in Fiction - Some Handy Writing Tips

2011-01-31T18:41:00.000Z

Here I am on @TabWrite's excellent bookie blog Tall Tales and Short Stories, talking about how to use all the amazing Myths and Legends there are out there to inspire your own writing. Do go and have a read!
tall tales & short stories: MYTHS AND LEGEND: Lucy Coats' Guide to Using Myths and Legend in Children's Fiction.

The British Books Challenge 2011 - Review of Wereworld: Rise of the Wolf by Curtis Jobling

2011-01-25T09:00:00.002Z

The British Books Challenge 2011 is up and running--and I'm late to the January party. So, with no further ado, here's Scribble City Central's first review of the year, together with a little 'added extra'.

To be honest, when I first heard about it, I wasn't quite sure what to expect from Curtis Jobling's Rise of the Wolf--the first book in his brand-newWereworld series. I knew little about Curtis himself except that (as he says on his website) he is 'possibly most (in)famously known as the designer of the BAFTA winning BBC show Bob the Builder', and that Wereworld was his first novel. There was a positive buzz about it on Twitter, though, so I decided to buy it. Were-beasts, a fantasy world--just my sort of thing, I thought. How right I was. It's a tightly plotted gripper of a novel with some interesting and original twists to it.

Drew is the odd one out in his family--and on the night of the full moon he finds out why. A nightmare time ensues for him, and he seeks refuge in the Dyrewood. But Drew is not destined for a hidden life in the forest. Soon he is enmeshed in a net of dangerous royal politics and prophecy--however hard he tries to run away from himself and his inner were-beast, he is always brought back to the centre of the action. It's been some time since I stayed up till 2am reading--I need my beauty sleep too much nowadays. But I found Wereworld just too fascinating to put down easily, and I shall certainly buy the next in the series as soon as it's out. All in all Drew is a great new addition to the ranks of YA fantasy heroes--and I recommend him to you most highly.

Because of my all night marathon, I'm blaming Curtis for any new wrinkles--although I think they were probably worth it! Talking of Curtis, he kindly agreed to answer what I hope is going to be an extra feature of these BBC 2011 reviews...cue atmospheric music:

The Burning Question

Warning: There may be the tiniest of Spoilers!

SCC: “So, Curtis. Were creatures have a long history stretching right back to ancient times when storytellers huddled round the fires and tried to make sense of a world full of scary ferocious beasts. Which myths or stories about weres did you first come across, and what in particular made you want to write about a were-shark?”

CJ: I've always loved the idea of the old storytellers rustling up tales that were meant to scare rather than soothe children to sleep. The Brothers Grimm are a fine example of cautionary tales that warn us to 'stay away from the woods', the wolf being the choice villain in many of their writings. It's not surprising that every culture around the world has their own variant of the lycanthrope myth, there's something universally terrifying about the werewolf that translates into every tongue. Fear has always been a healthy emotion to me, certainly in literature. When one reads a horror tale late at night and those telltale signs appear - a quickening heartrate, wary glances at the window and a reluctance to turn the page - it gives us a vicarious thrill, a reminder that we're still alive from the comfort of our dressing gowns, slippers and living rooms!

My first encounter with werewolves was through cinema - Lon Chaney Jr's "Wolfman", specifically - and he's still a timeless monster in the Universal Studios pantheon. Then it was on to "An American Werewolf in London" as I grew older, a huge pull for me with its marriage of horror and comedy. I love browsing through myths and legends on the subject, inevitably drawn back repeatedly to the French Beast of Gevaudan, as featured in the splendid movie "Le Pacte des Loups" (AKA "Brotherhood of the Wolf"). Also, the Welsh legend of Bedd Gelert has fascinated me since my childhood, a tragic tale that features a Prince making a grievous assumption and slaying his faithful wolfhound. Upon returning to his home he finds the dog standing over his baby's upturned crib, gore flecked about the room and blood covering the beast's jaws. He runs it through with his sword, stepping by to discover a wolf, slain by the dog, and when he turns the crib over he finds the child safely sheltered within. I love that kind of awful mistake, and that carries through into Wereworld: Rise of the Wolf.

Are we allowed to talk about Wereshark without a Spoiler Alert? ;-D [SCC: Don't worry, I've put one in!] Yes, the wider mythos of Wereworld allows me to play with just about any kind of creature, transforming it into a therianthrope according to the locale and the story. Setting a portion of the novel at sea meant that A Certain Shark Gentleman's delicious background wrote itself, although he isn't the only Sealord out there, as we'll discover in later books. There's something primal and monstrous about the shark, possibly more so than the wolf. Ask me which I'd rather take on in a scrap and the pooch would win paws down every time!

SCC: Thanks so much for visiting Scribble City Central, Curtis, and for giving such a full and fab answer to my Burning Question.

Remembering Dick King Smith

2011-01-07T10:40:00.001Z

In the long-ago and far-off days when I was editor of the new and shiny Banana Books series for Heinemann, I met a tall countryman with a shock of greyish hair, a twinkly eye and a tweedy jacket. I liked him at once, and he, being fond of anagrams, christened me the Lacy Scout, which is how he addressed me during the short time we worked together on his book, Lightning Fred.

The tall man was, of course, the wonderful Dick King Smith, who died last Tuesday at the grand old age of 88. I remember Dick telling me, during one of the long and slightly boozy lunches editors were allowed to take authors to in those days, of the fight he had to get his first book, The Fox Busters, published.

He said, laughing, that Heinemann was one of the publishers which had rejected him, at which I felt very embarrassed (though of course it was long before I arrived there). At that time, all unsolicited manuscripts received were logged in large red books, with columns for date received and reply. In a quiet moment I trawled through these, and there indeed, in large letters, were the words, Dick King Smith |The Fox Busters | Rejected. In later years I told him how much my own children had enjoyed his writing, and, as always, he sent a lovely letter back to the Lacy Scout. I salute him and know that his animal creations, all, in his own words 'speaking The Queen's English', will live on for a very long time as a magnificent memorial to a writer who, in his own quiet way, was one of the best.

2011 - Scribble City Central's Predictions

2011-01-03T14:01:00.001Z

Happy New Year, Lovely Blog Readers. It's 2011, and I've been peering into my scrying glass and my crystal ball to bring you

Scribble City Central's Predictions for the Writing Year.

Some of them may be mildly eccentric--but then you wouldn't expect anything else, would you? Here goes...

Writing and Politics:
Not a very hard prediction, this. There will be increasing anger about library cuts, and there will be much writing by writers to MPs, councils, newspapers and on blogs. On Feb 5th we will be sitting-in in various libraries around the country, and I forecast that many of us will march through the streets. PLR will be cut again in the next budget, and reading and literacy programmes will be quietly axed with politicians hoping we won't notice. We will though, won't we?

Writing and Social Media:
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I predict that social media will become increasingly important to the writing community as a whole, and writers who don't engage with it will be left behind. Publishers' publicity departments will have their publicity budgets slashed as never before, so it will be up to authors to find ever more creative ways of getting their books out to the reading public. I'm absolutely sure that authors on YouTube will be the Next Big Thing--look out for a rash of discussions on where to get a cheap but good video camera on author blogs!

Writing and Technology:
Keep up! This will be the year when e-books rock the public perception of reading even more than they have done already, and it's an easy prediction to say that publishers will be putting more money behind this than anything else--to the detriment of paper books. The Kindle will be everywhere, and if the next generation iPad doesn't have a better version of e-ink than the Kindle now does, I'll be very surprised. I also predict that the first proper versions of Smart Paper will be on the market before then end of the year. NB: On the Smart Paper front--Samsung have just unveiled a prototype touch sensitive screen at around 0.03mm thick at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas (Source: Daily Telegraph 07/01/11)...it's definitely coming!

Writing and Publisher Deals:
Of course, there will be a huge new 'debut novel of the year' for someone, and deals will still be being done at the London Book Fair, and at Bologna and Frankfurt. But I am not predicting a great year for writers in general, even if they are already established. All bets are going to be off as far as huge advances are concerned--especially for children's and YA books. It'll be harder than ever to get published this year, and harder still to get an agent. Sorry if this is depressing, but it's what seems to be floating around in the aether of prediction. This is the one I'd REALLY like to be wrong about.

Writing and...me:
I'm writing a series for younger readers and a YA novel. Who knows what will happen? Certainly not me, and I'm not going to make any predictions about my own 2011 future for fear of jinxes! But what I can tell you is that I will be writing my socks off, being super-critical of and ruthless about my own work before it goes anywhere and keeping my fingers and toes crossed that I'll beat my own gloomy forecast (see above). This blog will shortly be getting a major redesign, so look out for that, as well as the forthcoming reviews for the 2011 British Books Challenge. I'll carry on with my mad tweeting and hope to reach 1000 Twitter followers before the end of February. I will also be one of those authors on YouTube--watch this space for news. And my final prediction is that I'll be grateful, as always, for the support I receive throughout the year from all of you, and from my lovely bookish and authory friends around the world. I couldn't do it without you, so thanks in advance!

Have a wonderful start to 2011 and let me know what YOUR predictions are!

Christmas Eve Miracle

2010-12-23T09:00:00.001Z

A Happy Christmas to all my Lovely Readers both old and new. Thank you for sticking with me this year, for reading and commenting on my mad and eccentric posts in such a lively and informed way, for all the support you have given this blog by voting for it in the Author Blog Awards, and for general amazingness. I'm most grateful! I'm off for a break now, but I'll be back with you in the New Year. Meanwhile, here's a Christmas story for you. I hope you like it.

Christmas Eve Miracle

The room was very quiet. She could hear the hushed bustle of the night nurses in the corridor outside, but she knew they wouldn’t come in. She’d had her cocoa, had her pills. They’d leave her to sleep—or not—till early morning. There was nothing else they could do for her, after all. She looked out of the window where she could just see the cross on the rounded dome of St Paul’s, outlined against the festive glow of the London sky. She found it comforting. It had been there a long time, seen every kind of suffering, survived intact. She sighed. She was not going to survive, it seemed. But she’d bloody well fight anyway.

She remembered the morning, two weeks before, when she had walked into the oncologist’s office. The children and Daniel had been outside, waiting; a solid bulwark of love. But she’d wanted to hear this news on her own.

“I’m sorry, Glorianna,” he’d said. “It’s not good. It’s spread to your lungs and liver very fast.” She wasn’t surprised, and had said so. Her breathing hadn’t felt right for a while now, and even the kids had noticed the yellow eyes. She’d joked about eating too much custard, but they weren’t stupid. Not her kids. Then he’d dropped the bombshell of hope.

“There is a new treatment. It’s very experimental—from Canada. We don’t know if it will work. But it’s your only chance. It would mean being in Bart’s over Christmas though….”

Hope is a funny thing, she thought. Without it, you have no choices, everything is grey, and you just have to get through to the inevitable end as best you can. But with it—with even a tiny drop of it—the world of possibility wakes in full colour, and you can start to dream again in a way that makes your heart beat faster with maybes. She’d discussed it briefly with Daniel and the kids, not wanting to spoil what they all knew was probably the last Christmas they’d ever have together. But Daniel had been adamant.

“Any chance is better than nothing, love. You’ve got to go for it. We’ll just bring our Christmas to the hospital, that’s all.”

So here she was. Christmas Eve. She didn’t think the experiment was working, and the new drugs had made the tiny bit of hair she had left fall out, which was a bummer, because baldness was not in fashion this year. But she had to go on trying and hoping. It was the only weapon she had. The quarter bells of St Paul’s tolled out the time. Bingbong, bingbong, bingbong. Only fifteen minutes to go, and it would be Christmas Day.

The door opened softly, and closed behind the person who had come in. She couldn’t see him properly. The room was lit only by the light from outside, and the green glow of the monitors. But it appeared to be a man, dressed in white scrubs. His name badge hung down from the breast pocket, obscured.

“Hello, Glorianna,” he said. “I thought you might like some company.” His voice was very soft, gentle, accented slightly. Middle East somewhere, she thought. He came over to the bed and sat down on the end, careful not to joggle her battered, tender body. He had longish brown hair, tied tidily into a ponytail under his theatre hat, and a short, neat beard.

“Haven’t seen you before,” she croaked. Her bloody voice was going too, then. She cleared her throat, impatient with it suddenly. “You just on for the Christmas shift?”

“Yes, just for Christmas,” he said. “I like the peace on the wards. Is there anything I can do for you while I’m here?”

“What, apart from a Christmas miracle cure?” she asked. “That would be good.” She was proud of keeping her sense of humour. She found it helped other people feel better about what was happening to her.

He laughed. It was a nice laugh, made her feel more cheerful all of a sudden.

“It’s snowing,” he said. “That’s a miracle if you like. It never snows in London at Christmas. The bookies will be furious.” She squinted over at the window and gasped with pleasure. He was right. Big, fat flakes of proper snow were falling, fluffy and white against the glass.

“Take me over there,” she said. “Let me look properly. Please.” Manners were important, even if you were dying, she thought. He got up and fetched the wheelchair from the corner. Gently, he helped her sit up, swing her legs over the edge, moved the drip so she could drop into the chair without getting tangled up. “Ooh,” she said as his hands swam past her blurry vision. “What have you done to yourself?” The backs and fronts of both were covered in square, white gauze dressings.

“Just a little accident with some nails,” he said. “Doesn’t hurt anymore, just a bit messy to look at.”

He wheeled her over to the long window. It was a first floor room with a little balcony outside. They’d let her have a room to herself—it was a lonely luxury. The snow was falling faster now, and the ground below was already nearly covered with a white rug She looked and looked. It was beautiful.

“Did you know that each flake is different?” she asked him. “God must be pretty amazing to have thought that one up, don’t you think.”

“I do,” he said. “And He is.”

Suddenly a pigeon landed on the rail, then another, then another. Fast and furious they came, wings whirling in the snowstorm, until the rail was heaving with swaying bird shapes. Glorianna opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it again. The sparrows had started to arrive now, squeezing between the pigeons, chirping and squabbling, fighting like the warriors they were. Her visitor laid his hurt hands on her shoulders. She felt their warmth, like healing honey dripping into her bones. She closed her eyes, drinking it in. Then she opened them again, as she heard a muffled miaow.

Now it was the cats’ turn. Slinking and squirming, they lined up in rows, unblinking slanted eyes trained on the man behind her. Grey ones, tabby ones, tattered ears, scars, stripes, orange, white, black, and everything in between.

“Whatever…?” she stammered. But the pressure of those warm honey hands sent her back into silence, just as the mice and rats appeared. Bootbutton eyes, twitching whiskers, a sea of intertwined tails and noses, and sharp, yellow teeth sat on the windowsill. The cats didn’t move a muscle. Glorianna strained her eyes to look at the ground below. It was now covered with fur and a general wagging which sent the snow into joyous flurries of white. A puppy let out a single high yelp, but was cuffed by its neighbour immediately into silence.

BONG! BONG! Great Tom started to sound the hour of midnight from the south-west tower of St Paul’s. As the last chime echoed into stillness, the animals bowed their heads, knelt, worshipped. Glorianna too slipped forward onto her knees. It was physically impossible for her to do so now, in her weakened state, so she must be dreaming, she thought. But it was a good dream, a dream she didn’t want to end.

“Please,” she prayed fiercely. “Oh God, please.” It was a formless entreaty, made many times before, but this time, with those hands on her shoulders, she knew she was being listened to. She offered up her great love for every bit of her life on this wonderful, flawed, generous earth. The long journey from Jamaica with Mam and Pop. The first cold winter, school, her marriage to Daniel, the births of Jasmyn, Dillan and Joel. She offered her cancer, her anger, her fear. She offered everything and hoped it would be enough. Because now it was Christmas Day, and she’d already seen two miracles. Surely a third wasn’t too much to ask.

When she opened her eyes again, it was nearly daylight, she was back in bed, and her friend of the night had gone. A new nurse was standing there, replacing the drip bag.

“Happy Christmas,” she said. “Look, it’s snowed!” When she’d done what needed doing and left, Glorianna cautiously eased herself out of bed. The window seemed a long way to go on her own, but she made it by leaning on the dripstand. The balcony outside was empty now, but by peering hard, she could see a few feathers and tufts of fur in the snow. The whiteness was also pocked and marked with small prints and lines where tails might have whisked through it. Glorianna pinched herself. It hurt. She was awake. It had been real. And she was going to live. She knew that as certainly as if it was written on the glass in front of her.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the cross on the dome. A man in the courtyard below stopped walking and looked up at her. He had long brown hair and a neat beard. He raised a hand to her in greeting. The palm and back of it were covered in square white dressings. Then he walked around the corner and was lost to sight.

I was asked to write this story for Cancer Research, and it was first published in the concert programme for their 2008 fundraising carol service at St Paul's Cathedral. It is dedicated to the memory of my sister, Gloria, who died of cancer in December 2001.

The Great British Books Challenge 2011

2010-12-07T14:12:00.002Z

Some of you may already read The Bookette's blog. If you don't I'm delighted to introduce you. Becky, meet Scribble City Central--Scribble City Central meet Becky. See what a polite blog I run!
Here are three crucial Bookette facts:

She's a UK school librarian (librarians are FAB!)
She's addicted to YA books and reading in general. (And who here isn't?)
She drinks A LOT of tea. (Tea is the Elixir of Life to us Brits).

and here she is:

And now Bookette Becky has set up a booky challenge for us booky bloggers. I like a good challenge, so I signed up at once to her

British Books Challenge 2011

All I have to do is read and review ONE book by a British author once a month, thus equalling 12 books in the year. How hard can that be? So come January, look out for the first of my reviews. I'm going to start by considering Marcus Sedgwick's vampire book, My Swordhand is Singing,

and then move on to John Dickinson's foray into sci-fi thrillerdom, WE. After that, you'll have to wait and see, because I don't yet know what delicious YA and children's book Britishness awaits me next year.

It's going to be fun, and I'm hoping to have some nice surprises for you...not saying any more than that now. Possess your souls in patience, Lovely Readers!

Library Emergency - The Unkindest Cuts of All

2010-12-03T16:55:00.002Z

'Who Uses Libraries?', asks Keren David in today's excellent blogpost over on Almost True. And then she gives a hauntingly all-encompassing list which I urge you to read for yourselves. In case you hadn't heard or noticed, the UK's libraries are under threat again from cuts. As Keren says, 'there are those who think that libraries are a soft target', and there are also 'Government ministers who won't protect libraries...because budgets are easier to cut than bankers' bonuses'. These things are indeed sadly true, but we don't have to accept them as final, nor give in to apathy and despair.

WE CAN AND MUST FIGHT FOR OUR LIBRARIES.

Before the General Election, our current Culture Minister, Ed Vaizey was vociferous in his support for libraries and against the library closures he called 'cost-driven vandalism'. Only last February, in a talk to the Society of Bookmen he promised that the Tories would commit themselves to providing 'a first-class library service'. Where is his passion for libraries now? In Oxfordshire alone (where Vaizey's Wantage and Didcot constituency lies) no less than 20 libraries are threatened with closure, and they are not the only ones. Libraries everywhere are facing the chop. So, it seems that Vaizey's passion has metamorphosed into a sharp and two-faced cutting axe.

All over Britain, more and more authors are speaking out in public with loud and angry voices about the importance of libraries and the idiocy of closing them. We are blogging, writing articles, writing to newspapers and MP's, signing open letters and doing all we can to raise public awareness. Books are a lifeline, an escape, an education--easy access to them via local libraries should be a basic right for all, and most especially for the next generation.

So I urge you now, if you are passionate about books, reading, learning, education, then join us. Spread the word. Make your own angry voices heard in every arena. Join the Campaign for the Book, run by the wonderful and tireless Alan Gibbons. Because if the libraries go, they won't return. And that would be a tragedy for all of us.

PS: For those of you on Twitter, there's now a brand new #CFTB hashtag for Campaign for the Book, and if you wanted to let @edvaizey or @Jeremy_Hunt of the Departure of Culture, Media and Sport know how you feel directly, then please use it to do so. Let's make this a trending topic for the UK, people.

SCBWI Conference 2010 - How to Sell Your Book on the Internet (Part 4)

2010-12-02T10:16:00.000Z

This is what I said about Part 4 at the end of Part 3....

"It will involve the first of the social networking bits of the 'selling-your-books-and-your- author-self' platform. I know this will be terrifying for a lot of people—and I should warn you now, it will eat your soul if you let it! Mwahahaha!" (Sorry about the demonic laughter--it gets away from me sometimes.)

Are you terrified yet? Because I'm going to take you into the scary soul-eating area that is

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

If I had a pound for every person who's asked me ‘what’s the point of Twitter?’ I would be able to buy myself several designer handbags, and probably outfits and shoes to go with them. From my own point of view, I can tell you that I have made more contacts, got more author gigs and generally found more useful stuff on Twitter than anywhere else on the internet. There is a whole community of reviewers, agents, authors, illustrators, librarians, booksellers, publishers both digital and paper, journalists, parents, and readers all in a great, glorious global mix. Here's what my bright and cheery profile page looks like. As you can see, the background is the cover of one of my books, Hootcat Hill. Subliminal marketing, if you like.

But the real question you want me to answer here is:

does Twitter sell your books?

Well, just think about this for a moment:

My Twitter account puts me in contact with people in all areas of the book world and beyond including those all important book buyers

That's a selling tool with pretty amazing potential, I reckon.

So how can you capitalise on that as an author? There are really only two important rules to remember as far as selling your books on Twitter is concerned:

What Twitter is NOT is a direct marketing tool. So you can’t go putting ‘Buy my books Buy my books’ on it every day—the ‘me me me’ author is an absolute no no—you will alienate follower people immediately by doing that. So don't.
What Twitter is is a place for mentioning stuff casually, as in a conversation. I’ve bought lots and lots of books through Twitter recommendations or links—and I know I’ve sold many many copies of my own (including in markets like America and Australia where I’m not yet directly published with my current series) through just those casual mentions of something that I’ve been doing, or a review link, or a link to this blog, or just because someone is interested in me as an author. And for every person who has told me directly that they’ve bought a book, you can be sure there are others who are doing and not saying. Also, if you've liked another author's book, why not say so? Goodwill generates goodwill...I'm a great believer that casting your bread upon the Twitter waters will return it to you a thousand-fold.

If you want to know more about the nuts and bolts of how Twitter actually works, I suggest you look at my Writing 101 Production about Twitter Wisdom, which has useful links for the techy stuff (like explaining why you should use Tweetdeck). And if you are a Twitter neophyte and want to start following some bookie people, you could do a lot worse than the lovely people who were on the SCBWI panel with me...

That's from left to right: @ninadouglas (who is hiding out of shot because she's shy like that), @MayhewJ @jabberworks and (of course), me @lucycoats

Next up will be that sink of time-wasting, Facebook! Betcha can't wait!

Help! This is a BlogSplash for The Hating Game!

2010-12-01T14:39:00.000Z

Today I'm joining a big BlogSplash experiment and helping Talli Roland's brilliant new debut novel THE HATING GAME hit the Kindle bestseller list at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk by spreading the word to all my lovely Scribble City Central readers. Even a few sales in a short period of time on Amazon helps push the book up the rankings, making it more visible to other readers, so if you fancy reading it, please click on the links. It's already at No 27! Amazon.co.uk:
Amazon.com:
If you haven't got a Kindle, you can download a free app at Amazon for Mac, iPhone, PC, Android and more.
If you'd like to find out more about Talli, she's at http://.talliroland.com/.

And here's all you need to know about THE HATING GAME:
When man-eater Mattie Johns agrees to star on a dating game show to save her ailing recruitment business, she's confident she'll sail through to the end without letting down the perma-guard she's perfected from years of her love 'em and leave 'em dating strategy. After all, what can go wrong with dating a few losers and hanging out long enough to pick up a juicy £2000,000 prize? Plenty, Mattie discovers, when it's revealed that the contestants are four of her very unhappy exes. Can Mattie confront her past to get the prize money she so desperately needs, or will her exes finally wreak their long-awaited revenge? And what about the ambitious TV producer whose career depends on stopping her from making it to the end?

A Small YouTube Experiment

2010-11-25T14:02:00.000Z

Someone took a couple of tiny videos of me answering questions at the recent Bath Festival of Children's Literature. I thought I'd do a small experimental upload to YouTube. It seems to have worked. So here I am talking about how long it takes me to write a book, and giving some tips on how to be a writer to the kids at Kingswood Prep. It never ceases to amaze me that I can sound both quite squeaky and quite posh all at the same time. Enjoy! You may throw eggs if you wish.

The Mythic Faery Interview - Seth MacGregor, Red-Hot Faery Boy

2010-11-22T09:00:00.014Z

Since I interviewed Seth MacGregor's 'Boss', Gillian Philip, on Scribble City Central back in July, Seth has taken an unsuspecting world by storm. I described the first part of Seth's memoirs, Firebrand (published by Strident and now in its second printing), as 'rare, new and infinitely exciting', and it seems I am not the only one to be so seduced. Amanda Craig of The Times has made his book her Top Fantasy Novel of 2010 (Oh! How I agree with you, Amanda!), and Mary Hoffman of The Guardian has just described Seth as 'red-hot' and Firebrand as 'stark and brutal but with moments of heartbreaking beauty'. As of last night (Sunday) Firebrand was at #16 in Fantasy Books on Amazon and at #559 overall. Cor! And just look at Seth on the cover--who wouldn't want a piece of THAT? *let's all take a moment for fanning purposes here*

Since Seth sneaked onto Twitter (quite against the express wishes of 'The Boss', but then that's our bad, disobedient, authority-defying faery boy all over), he and I have been having some...I shall use the word 'interesting' here (make of that what you will)...conversations. He's given at least two excellent interviews in other places, but for this one I wanted go with the Scribble City tradition by tapping into Seth's mythical faery heritage and trying to delve deeper into the intriguing world behind the Veil. So without further ado, let's plunge into what I think is a fascinating conversation with the wickedly alluring (and appallingly flirty)...

SETH MacGREGOR

So, Seth...let's begin with 'Faery tales’. That conjures up nice sparkly Thumbelina stuff for little children. But faery tales originate in a much deeper darker space, don’t they? Faery tales first began in the fiery heart of story where the old myths full of blood and ancient magic live. How far back into the mists of myth do your Sithe records go? Who are your lorekeepers? (Or do you not even keep records?)

Yes, blood and ancient magic. I like your style. Faery tales weren’t for children, not to begin with; they were the soap opera of the ancients, told for adults, full of truths and hard reality. And you and I know that however they’ve twisted and turned with the centuries, however they’ve changed, they began in that reality.

Our records go back as far as yours, I think... the further back you go, the more obscured they are by time. We keep the same stories, but like any myth or fairytale, we have our own take on them, our own filter. Full-mortals feature in our tales, but in not quite the same light as they do in yours. Your reputation with us is as mixed as ours with you. And like you, we have books, songs, oral history... there’s always a Shenachie to tell tales on a dark night when everyone’s had more than enough to drink*.
* That'll be pretty much every night, then?

Your brother, Conal is described as ‘heroic’, but you’ve been called ‘half-feral, a bastard boy full of hatred.’ I think that only shows the surly outer armoured skin you have presented to the world so far. There’s someone much more complex underneath all the angry posturing of your younger self, and I’d like to know more about how you would describe yourself nowadays, as compared to in your childhood. Do you, perhaps, see yourself as a kind of mythic hero (or indeed antihero) figure akin to all those butch Greek demigods like Achilles, or do you feel more comfortable closer to home, with heroes like Fionn mac Cumhaill and Cúchulainn—or do you feel like none of them?

I’m blushing** at the very thought of Achilles and Cuchulainn. Hell, I’m not the legendary type, though I love those heroes. They always seem so much larger than life, Lucy, and I’m just... life-sized. I know they had their human frailties, and it’s true I can throw a temper with the best of them, and have been known to sulk in my metaphorical tent... but consorting with gods isn’t for me. Fionn is a little different, isn’t he? He’s closer to us all, more man than demigod, and I like that he had wits as well as strength. More Odysseus than Achilles. I can also vouch for his existence, since Griogair knew him (Aonghas and Reultan named their daughter after him). Needless to say, I only heard the stories with the rest of the clann. My father never talked to me about him.

As for how I see myself nowadays? I’ve mellowed, or I think I have. I hope I’m smarter and wiser. The Boss says I still have a sizeable chip on my shoulder. Hah! She may know me pretty well, but even she doesn’t understand all my motives, not all the time.
** YES! I made Seth blush! This may be a first....

You and I share a love of animals, Seth. If you had to choose two mythical creatures from any culture to go into battle with and to guard your left and right sides, who would they be, and why?

I have good friends, and good fighting comrades, but there’s no-one I trust more in battle than Branndair***. I know his head and he knows mine: we’re like extensions of each other. So if I was going to choose two mythical heroes instead, I’d take Bran and Sceolan, Fionn’s hounds, the ones with the hearts of men.
*** Branndair is Seth's wolf companion

I trust you know the cautionary kelpie tale ‘Myself is Myself’+, Seth? It’s said in most of our old Scots legends that the waterhorses can shapeshift. Is this true of your own roan kelpie, or has something got skewed in the story as it travelled across the Veil? We mortals are easily confused about such things!
+ If any of you Lovely Blog Readers don't know it, it can be found in my Coll the Storyteller's Tales of Enchantment

You’re not the only ones. A lot of stories have got skewed and tangled. There are tales of shapeshifting creatures, and I don’t know if they’re true or not, but my horse isn’t a thing that can mutate. I’ve heard people say that water horses and kelpies are two different things, that kelpies are shapeshifting spirits; but we have always called our horses kelpies (and not all the Sithe can ride them). And then there’s the Brollachan, another shapeshifter that’s been known to take the form of a horse.

You ask me, I think tales shapeshift more easily than creatures. I’m not sure you have stories about the Lammyr, do you? Yet there are plenty of them over in your world, taking protégés all the time. Perhaps you notice them even less than you notice us.

In the shamanic tradition it is taught that everyone has a spirit animal (mine is a bear) with which they share affinities. Your true name, Murlainn, as well as symbolising the swift and deadly falcon spirit within you, set off all sorts of mythological echoes for me, being, of course, the same as the great Arthurian wizard of my own culture. Do you think that that Merlin too might have had Sithe blood, or even been a Sithe? Is he someone the Sithe know about?

A bear? That’s lovely. It suits you, because you’re beautiful and have a soft exterior+++, but you can be fierce. I like my true name well enough; it could have been worse. I’ve overheard bitchy comments in the dun before now, like the tosser who said he’d no idea there wasn’t a Gaelic word for ‘snake’. Breaking his nose was a satisfying moment.

And yes, I’ve had full-mortal friends who mistook my name for the wizard’s, and that has sometimes been helpful. I don’t doubt the man had Sithe blood, though I don’t think he was all Sithe: there’s definitely something else there. Didn’t he live backwards through time? Some of his abilities were undoubtedly Sithe, and he had plenty to do with us, or so I hear.

I don’t like the Sidhe of your BBC Merlin. They’re nothing like us. I spend Saturday nights shouting at the Boss’s TV. She gets cross and tells me to shut up, because all she wants to do is drool over Arthur and his knights^ – even though they’re terribly slow with a blade.
+++The less said about how Seth knows this, the better.
^You're very mean, Seth. 'The Boss' needs her downtime, just like the rest of us. If she wants to drool over slow knights, let her (there's even a free BBC picture below specially to distract her). The rest of us will drool over slow nights with a certain faery...Oops! didn't mean to say that. Delete delete delete!

When I wrote my own book of Celtic myths and legends, my storyteller set off from the stone circle at Callanish on the the Isle of Lewis (Eilean Leodhas). There are so many stones and circles in Scotland, and they’re pretty much all associated with the Otherworld in some way—generally with mortals wandering through and then coming back tens or hundreds of years later (as you know, to your cost). You’ve told us that there are rings of ancient stones in the Sithe lands too. Do they equate exactly with the ones in the mortal landscape? Is the Veil thinner or somehow more penetrable around them—and if so, why?

Oh, I’m sure that’s true, that the Veil is thinner in those places. You can feel it, can’t you? And not just in the stone circles – there are other rocks, streams, caverns where the other world seems very close. I think of places like Colonsay, or Gigha, or Tomnahurich Hill in Inverness, or the older places of Edinburgh. And I know, for instance, that the Veil is denser and less penetrable around duns and fortresses, so why wouldn’t it work the other way?

Still, full-mortals can’t just wander through, say, a watergate – you’d need someone of Sithe blood with you. That’s why there are all those tales of musicians or knights or midwives enticed through by some unscrupulous Sithe with a few coins or a convincing story.

Some of those stones have equivalents in the full-mortal world, some don’t. I suppose it depends on whether they have been moved or destroyed, or preserved, and why they were built in the first place – some were put there as markers for weak places in the Veil, which makes sense when you think of their atmosphere.

There are a few stone circles in your world I have special affection for. The place my sons are buried, for one. And another where – well. That’s a story for another time^^.
^^You're very good--I had hoped to tempt you into some revelations, but you're too canny for that
.

You faeries are burdened with the hideous Lammyr (which, incidentally, creep the flesh off my bones). They’re obviously pretty hard to get rid of, and I certainly wouldn’t want to meet one on a dark or any other night. We mortals think about a lot of scary things in our spare time—including vampires and werewolves. Do the Sithe have any experience of those—and if you yourself met either one, how would you deal with them?

I suppose our closest equivalent to your seductive bloodsucking destroyers would be our dear Queen. And I’d like to say the Lammyr are undead creatures, and alien to the Sithe, but unfortunately they live and breathe and we are related. At some point in the past we have to accept responsibility for them. Maybe they creep the flesh off their own bones, who knows? It would explain the way they look.

But werewolves – now, we don’t have shapeshifters, but I know that the Sithe have always had a close relationship with our wolves, just as we have with the ravens. (And of course, wolves and ravens have always had a symbiotic relationship, too, even in your world.) Not that I’m fond of my stepmother’s ghastly bird, I might add; that thing’s got it in for me.

Perhaps the werewolf legends came about in the same way the centaur ones did? A full-mortal sees a Sithe and a wolf working together, just as the ancients saw a man on a horse, and.... ah, but on the other hand, there’s every chance werewolves and centaurs are as real as the Sithe, isn’t there? We don’t know everything of every world.^^^
^^^ Interesting. So you admit there ARE other worlds....

In these modern times, we mortals have started seeing a lot of what are known to us as ‘urban faery tales’—stories about the Sithe, taken down by people probably not unlike The Boss. Many of them are set in the United States, and feature what seem to be some of your very distantly related kinfolk. Would you ever get on an aeroplane and travel across the Atlantic—or would you prefer to take a boat instead? Can you yourself go very far from the Veil—or can you get back to Sithe lands from anywhere in the mortal world?

Oh, I have travelled across the Atlantic, many times. I was in Antigua only recently #...but again, that’s a story for another time. To be honest, I prefer boats to planes, but I’m not as frightened of flying as the Boss is.

The Sithe certainly have kin in the United States, but then we have family everywhere – I’ve known Sithe from Germany, Belgium, Norway, Chile, South Africa and Pakistan. Some of those have different names, of course, but we’re all one race. Watergates exist in all countries; the Sithe world exists alongside yours in its entirety. I can go any distance from the Veil, any of us can – but I would never want to be too far from a watergate. You know how homesick I get.
# and there you go again with the enticing hints....

Now, finally (and this is a complete indulgence on my part), I just have to know the answer to this: 'The Boss' apparently has huge trouble controlling you and your urges, or so she tells me. You’re a kind of mega-flirt legend on Twitter already, and you have hordes of swooning female fans already (of whom I am obviously Most Important Number One, whoever might dispute that fact). So tell us, what would be your ideal night out with a lady in the mortal world of today (no expense spared)? Details, man, details!

All the details? Are you sure, Lucy? I’m not sure the Boss would allow that...!##

OK, but seriously... it would involve music, live music. And dancing. And down to the beach afterwards, to ride my horse together by moonlight and (probably) sober up. And then – oh, don’t talk to me about sand. It gets everywhere.

## I have a nasty feeling 'The Boss' has had her red censor pen out when she was transcribing this. She has a very Puritan Streak when it comes to your extracurricular activities, does Gillian. *sigh*.
Well, that's all we have time for right now. Thanks to the gorgeous Seth, (and to Gillian 'The Boss' Philip) for transcribing Seth's messy notes. I'm just off for a cold shower and a lie down.

You’re a wonderful interviewer as well as lovely, Lucy. Thank you!

SCBWI Conference 2010 - How to Sell Your Book on the Internet (Part 3)

2010-11-17T18:18:00.000Z

I promised you secret London meetings at the end of my last post (and yes, I know this is a day late and I've kept you all in horrible suspense. Sorry. I was busy doing Noble Things. I might even tell you about those too later in the month). Anyway, back to those meetings....

First, there was Tea. And Cake. Oh, all right. And Wine.

With Werewolves. And a couple of tasty humans to gnaw on for afters. But I'd better say no more than that or we'll have to come after you at the next full moon and rend you limb from limb.

After that there was an extension to the SCBWI conference in the form of a very convivial authory dinner in London. We'd all had such fun in Winchester, we couldn't bear to let it go--and besides there were a couple of people who'd missed out. Never say we SCBWI-ites don't share. Here we all are:

Now, that's quite enough socialising. Put your serious hats back on and let's talk about your next authory booksale generating tool, which is:

An Author Blog

You're here already, so you know what this particular author blog looks like--but the million dollar question is: why should you have one? and more importantly for the purposes of this post, how does it 'sell' books?

• An author blog reinforces your ‘Author ID’, which you've already started establishing on your website.

• You can design it to complement your books—I did a very successful series of ‘Mythic Friday Interviews’ earlier this year to promote my ‘Greek Beasts and Heroes’ books. I also run a slightly eccentric but useful writing tips series called 'Writing 101 Productions' in which I talk about how I cope with various aspects of the writer's craft. I can also comment on current events like the ‘Speak Loudly’ campaign against book-banning and other items of book news, as well as sharing exciting things that happen in my writing life. Short blog posts are just fine, by the way!

• You can run competitions and book giveaways which will all generate interest in you and your books. Often your publisher will be happy to provide free books with which to do this.

• You can publish ‘teasers’ from new work, put up poetry (I have a 'Scribble City Central Poetry Page'), use your blog as a campaigning platform—whatever floats your boat.

• But...
How will it sell actual books? Again, you can ‘monetize’ (that really is a HORRIBLE word) your blog by linking to Amazon Associates and having your titles up on a widget (look at the top of this page if you don't know what that is) and available to buy at the click of a button. The more places your books are visible on the internet, the better. Other than that, it’s about people getting to know you—keeping yourself present and current in the media stream.

Part 4 (coming soon) will involve the first of the social networking bits of the 'selling-your-books-and-your- author-self' platform. I know this will be terrifying for a lot of people—and I should warn you now, it will eat your soul if you let it! Mwahahaha!

SCBWI Conference 2010 - How to Sell Your Book on the Internet (Part 2)

2010-11-14T18:26:00.000Z

You'll naturally want to know about the canapes and fizz first, before we get down to the next part of this selling business. Well, I have to say, the canapes were a disappointment. There weren't any, due to a canape cock-up of major proportions. However, there were balloons. Magnificent balloons, some of which did amazing sparkly things (though maybe that was a result of some slightly overenthusiastic imbibing of fizz on my part). There was a string quartet too, plus bow ties, long frocks and at least one tiara. Never say children's writers don't know how to have a good time. We are so rarely allowed out that any party has to be Made To Count.

There was also cake. Pretty fabulous cake. But I will leave the cake till later, because it's time for the first ingredient in your authory internet bookselling armoury. Yes. I know that's a slightly mixed metaphor. I have a hangover and can't think straight. Pass the Alka-Seltzer please.

Last time, I left you wondering about author websites. I’m not going to go into any detail here about how you build one, because, frankly, I got the excellent Pedalo to do mine—but advice and help are easily obtained from many internet sources if you don’t know where to begin. Mine looks like this at the moment, but I'm about to do a major overhaul. Websites date horribly quickly--and there's always new technology coming along which will let you do all sorts of freshly-minted internet wizardry.

A good author website will:

• Tell people who you are as an author—you can include biographical material, writing tips, useful information about what you offer schools and libraries in the way of visits, contact details and also that vital FAQ page, where you give answers to all those questions people ask over and over, like ‘when did you start writing’ and ‘what is your favourite book’.

• Tell people about your books. This is the place to have all your covers and books and to plug your forthcoming titles. You can put up links to Amazon by each in-print title so that people can click and buy them direct. This might earn you some useful referral fees and it's definitely worth setting up an Amazon Associates account so you can take advantage of that.

• Plug your most wonderful reviews from both press and internet, (which will obviously make people want to buy your books)!

• Link to your other internet tools such as a blog (either external or integrated), Twitter, Facebook fan page, YouTube and podcasts (if you do them), all of which tie in to your books and you.

• Link to external sites such as SCBWI, Society of Authors and others which may be relevant to your books—and you can persuade them to link back to you, thus generating a wider promotional base for you and your books.

• Provide content for kids. You can incllude puzzles, games and downloadable art linked to your books if you want to. Because I have younger readers, I have a kids’ page with all those things, plus an interactive map of Greece and some black-and-white line drawings of cut-out-and-colour Greek monster masks. Teachers all tell me that this is a hugely useful resource, but it depends what age group you are writing for. You want to get kids interested in you and your books--then they'll pester their parents to buy them!

So, to sum up...
How will an author website sell books?

Your website will generate interest in you as a writer and establish you as a 'brand'.
It will (hopefully) hook in teachers and librarians and festival organisers as well as parents/readers, which will in turn generate sales.
It will direct visitors to Amazon (more sales).
It will excite visitors about new books (potential future sales).

Now, I believe I promised you cake. Tell me you don't want a slice of THIS bookie delight...(trust me, it was yummy).

You'll have to wait till Tuesday for Part 3 of my SCBWI talk, because I am having a couple of Top Secret assignations in London tomorrow (and no, I'm not telling unless you ask REALLY nicely). But I'll give you a clue about Part 3 instead. It involves An Author Blog. Bet you can't wait.

SCBWI Conference 2010 - How to Sell Your Book on the Internet (Part 1)

2010-11-13T18:15:00.002Z

Scary things, panels. They make you stand up and talk about stuff as if you're an expert. And you have to exude some kind of zen calm while you're doing it, and try not to sound like an idiot. Anyway, today I am at the 10th SCBWI UK conference in a dampish Winchester. And I talked about how, as an author you can sell yourself and your books on the internet. I think it went well (people said nice things, anyway). So, for those of you who couldn't be there, I'm going to put up my talk here in 6 easy-to-digest parts over the next few days. And for those of you who were there and didn't bother to take notes--well shame on you, and here it is again.

But first, some badges...SCBWI do a great line in badges. My favourite is top left. Because children's writing IS a proper job.

Ok...now to the serious stuff:

Listen up, authory and aspiring authory people. In the modern technoworld we live in,, having an internet presence is essential. It’s not like the old days when authors were basically cut off from everyone except local booksellers, a few schools and their publisher’s publicist, (who was the one everyone had to go through to get to you). Now we are all as accessible as we want ourselves to be—the internet has brought authors both freedom and burdens, and publishers are now actively encouraging authors to have what is known as an ‘author platform’ which looks kinda like this.

Let me be very clear about this: it is highly unlikely that you will be able to sell a million books or even a hundred books as a direct result of anything you put out on the internet unless you say or do something which gets you on the front page of all the newspapers (streaking at a Manchester United match waving a copy of your latest title will work nicely) or your book trailer (see part 6 later in the week) goes viral on YouTube. It is virtually impossible to give you a quantifiable link between internet presence and books sold— but that doesn't mean you should ignore all this digital stuff. For me the author platform is about building an internet presence, so that people are more likely to buy my newest book when it comes because they feel they ‘know’ a bit about me and what I am offering to my readership.

It has to be you who establishes your internet presence in the first instance because it is unlikely that your publisher will have the budget or staff resources to do so.
So where do you start building your potential book-selling ‘author platform?

Well--I started with a website...(it's a very good place to start). But you'll have to wait till tomorrow to find out my pearls of wisdom about how having one sells books for you. I have a mass book launch to attend. There will be champagne.

and canapes.

I'm sure you understand...this panel stuff is hungry and thirsty work. The Inner Author must be fed and watered....