James Twining's Posts - CrimeSpace2024-03-28T16:09:35ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwininghttps://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/60987175?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1https://crimespace.ning.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=jamestwining&xn_auth=noBond momentstag:crimespace.ning.com,2008-07-24:537324:BlogPost:1531962008-07-24T22:44:18.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
When I was fifteen or so, on a family holiday in Majorca, I befriended a group of local Spanish kids. They were older than me and led by Juan, an eighteen year old whose father was one of the richest men on the island. Juan drove Number Five, a Ferrari red catamaran that his father had co-piloted to third place in the world speedboat championship a few years before. It was a monster.<br />
<br />
I mention this because my research trip to Monte Carlo last week (see…
When I was fifteen or so, on a family holiday in Majorca, I befriended a group of local Spanish kids. They were older than me and led by Juan, an eighteen year old whose father was one of the richest men on the island. Juan drove Number Five, a Ferrari red catamaran that his father had co-piloted to third place in the world speedboat championship a few years before. It was a monster.<br />
<br />
I mention this because my research trip to Monte Carlo last week (see <a href="http://lerififi.blogspot.com/2008/06/toilet-humour.html">Toilet Humour</a>), reminded me that for most men, the meaning of life (beyond beer, football and sex) is really the pursuit of as many "Bond moments" as possible. Bond moments like the one where I dived off the rocks in front of the villa where we were staying, swam across to where Juan, his girlfriend and the girl who'd caught my eye down at the harbour were waiting for me on Number Five, twin Lamborghini V12s idling, and then roared away to a hidden inlet where we moored up for the day. Double O-tastic!<br />
<br />
Monte Carlo was, of course, the basis for the fictional resort of Royale-Les-Eaux in Casino Royale. And I have to admit our trip (I was with the missus) did start auspiciously enough, as we were whisked away from cattle class on sleazyjet to a waiting helicopter and the five minute dash along the Cote d'Azur. We arrived at the hotel, as you can imagine, shaken but not stirred.<br />
<br />
A day at the pool was followed by dinner up in Eze - a beautiful medieval village perched on a rocky outcrop that can only be reached by a bridge. Again things went well - the Maitre D' greeted me with the classic Bond line - "Welcome back, Mr Twining. Your usual table?" He showed us to a small table on a private balcony with an unbelievable view over the sea. The Sommelier even complemented me on my choice of wine - "Excellent choice, Monsieur Twining. The spiciness will offset the richness of the beef perfectly" - as if I was Robert Parker. So far, so Bond.<br />
<br />
And then I got the bill.<br />
<br />
All 565 Euros of it. That's $895 or £448 in real money. Victoria's bloody caviar had cost 300 Euros. We'd misread the menu and thought it was 10 Euros for ten grams, not 10 Euros a gram. That's almost a street price. Bond, of course would have just won the necessary cash in a bet with a crippled megalomaniac or had it flown in by a busty intern at the Treasury. No such luck for me. Instead I had to play it cool and make it look like this was the sort of bill I regularly fielded. A sort of Monte Carlo equivalent of a trip to the local chippy.<br />
<br />
Things got worse when I got back to the hotel to get changed for the casino. Don't forget that this was to be the realisation of a long held ambition to play the tables in the most famous casino in the world. Not to mention adding to the list of Bond locations I've visited (what do you mean that's sad?) Then I realised. I'd forgotten my cuff links. My big Bond moment, and my cuffs were flapping around my wrists like Austin bloody Powers. It was too late to buy any replacements as all the shops were shut. So I had to wear paperclips instead. Double O my ass.<br />
<br />
The casino itself was beautiful. Truly amazing. The clientele a little less attractive - the men (mostly Russian) were as old and fat as the women (mostly knockout) were young and thin. But as you can imagine, feeling somewhat self-conscious that everyone would think I was being sponsored by Staples and having seen Victoria hoover down 300 Euros of raw fish eggs, I wasn't exactly feeling like bigging it up on the tables. Even so, we decided to chance our arm and in true Bond fashion, gamble our way out of trouble. We lost a hundred Euros in about two minutes flat. License to lose.<br />
<br />
With the gambling not working out, I headed to the toilets to research their layout and complete my original mission. Anyone interested in seeing what they actually look like should click here. I hope you like them, despite having to turn your head sideways - they cost marginally less to produce than the first surface shots of the moon. With the "blueprints" safely stored away for future use, I returned to the table for one last spin of the wheel. But as I placed my pathetic little chip on the table and prayed for a miracle, the man next to me smiled through his cigar smoke and whispered conspiratorially.<br />
<br />
"Tiffany?"<br />
<br />
This was it. The code word from the Russian sleeper agent I'd been praying for. What was the correct response? Breakfast? Lamp? Then I realised he was looking down at my cuff links.<br />
<br />
"Tiffany?" He repeated?<br />
<br />
"What these?" I smiled, nonchalantly, then lied. "No I have these made by a man in Vienna."<br />
<br />
He nodded wisely.<br />
<br />
"Very nice," A pause. "I have a man in Vienna too. He makes my ammunition." He gave the slight bulge under his left arm a longing pat.<br />
<br />
I looked around, desperate for someone to have witnessed or overheard a classic Bond exchange. But Victoria was gazing dreamily at the Formula One driver across the room betting the gross domestic product of Liberia on the turn of a card.<br />
<br />
But then that's the thing about the best Bond moments. No-one ever gets to see them but you!<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. Report from Harrogate and my Bond panel soon!Stranger Than Fictiontag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-10-04:537324:BlogPost:794932007-10-04T22:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
Is history repeating itself?<br />
<br />
A few weeks before the US publication of The Double Eagle in 2005, the US Government made a sensational announcement. Ten 1933 Double Eagles, the same incredibly rare $20 coins that feature at the heart of my novel, had been seized from the family of one of the dealers implicated in the original 1940s enquiry. Given the plot of my novel (the recovery of five Double Eagle coins stolen from Fort Knox), it was an incredible coincidence that did not go unnoticed by…
Is history repeating itself?<br />
<br />
A few weeks before the US publication of The Double Eagle in 2005, the US Government made a sensational announcement. Ten 1933 Double Eagles, the same incredibly rare $20 coins that feature at the heart of my novel, had been seized from the family of one of the dealers implicated in the original 1940s enquiry. Given the plot of my novel (the recovery of five Double Eagle coins stolen from Fort Knox), it was an incredible coincidence that did not go unnoticed by American reviewers at the time:<br />
<br />
"Last month, 10 double eagle coins that disappeared 70 years ago mysteriously resurfaced. Federal agents fell on them as though they were grenades. They are now back in Fort Knox. Twining's publicist at Harper Collins should send the Secret Service a fruit basket."<br />
<br />
Now, this very evening, I read that the police have recovered da Vinci's Madonna of the Yarnwinder, a painting worth around $70 million that was stolen from Drumlanrig Castle in a daring raid in 2003. So what, you might say? Well here's the thing - that theft and the painting's fate form an integral part of the plot of The Gilded Seal!<br />
<br />
If this happens much more often, the cops will be paying me to feature high profile heists in my books in the hope that they might have a chance of recovering whatever was taken! I should charge a commission. Or at least place a bet.<br />
<br />
Maybe my laptop has had some strange gypsy curse or Voodoo spell placed on it?Squeaky bum timetag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-09-30:537324:BlogPost:773432007-09-30T20:43:07.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm up to 11 fans on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span></a> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fansite</span> now. Eleven. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Onze</span>. Elf. Once. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Undici</span>. Whichever way you say it, it doesn't get any bigger. Come on…</span></span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm up to 11 fans on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span></a> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fansite</span> now. Eleven. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Onze</span>. Elf. Once. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Undici</span>. Whichever way you say it, it doesn't get any bigger. Come on guys. This is getting serious now.</span></span> <span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here's a bribe. My publication party is going to be on 29<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span> October in London - I still have a few spare tickets if you'd like to come. Just drop me a line.</span></span><br/><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br/>Anyway, a little over two weeks to go until the publication of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Gilded Seal</span>
and the sleepless nights have started in earnest. You would have<br />
thought that after a few books, I'd be a bit more chilled about the<br />
whole thing, but if anything, it's got worse with each book.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana;">Maybe that's because I had no real expectations for how <span style="font-style: italic;">The Double Eagle</span> would
do at all - to be honest, I was just grateful it was on the shelf. When<br />
it sold well I was both surprise and excited. But these feelings were<br />
soon tempered by the realisation that its unforeseen success had <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">subtly</span><br />
changed the rules of the game. Naive enthusiasm was no longer a viable<br />
strategy - instead, I had stepped into a quicksand of insecurity and<br />
stress that seems to rise a little higher with every book.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana;">By
the time it came to publishing The Black Sun, therefore, my youthful<br />
insouciance had been replaced by a dry-throat, sweaty palms and daily<br />
calls with my publisher about the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">pre</span>-order<br />
numbers and whether they were any good. And needless to say, as soon as<br />
it was out, I was checking on my Amazon author rankings every hour, on<br />
the hour, to see how things were going - oh look, I've moved form 3,523<br />
to 3,428. Yippee.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now, with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Gilded Seal</span> I seem to have translated my nervousness into insomnia and an inexplicable craving for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jaffa</span> Cakes. Is this what it's like to be pregnant, I wonder?</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana;">Actually,
that's not quite such a fanciful idea as it may seem (ignoring the<br />
stretch marks, bleeding gums, occasional incontinence and violent mood<br />
swings, of course.) You see, the really stressful thing about an<br />
impending publication / birth is not the sales numbers (although God<br />
knows I could do with the cash!) but the thought of releasing this<br />
fragile young creature that I have conceived, created and nurtured<br />
through a difficult childhood, into the lawless, uncertain jungle of<br />
the high-street to fend for itself amidst sharp-fanged reviewers and an<br />
apathetic media. Anyone who's seen the Discovery Channel will know that<br />
nature can be very cruel.<br/><br/>Having said all that, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Gilded Seal's</span>
prospects are good. In fact they're very good if you believe the early<br />
feedback I have been getting from a couple of reviewers and journalists<br />
who have been sent advance copies. Bruce my editor, says it's the best<br />
one yet and I'm inclined to agree with him. But ultimately the only<br />
opinion that counts is yours, so you'll have to let me know what you<br />
think when you finally get your hands on a <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0007230400/ref=s9_asin_image_2/202-7212539-6877460?pf_rd_m=A3P5ROKL5A1OLE&pf_rd_s=center-1&pf_rd_r=18HGWGNB6RFENEAAC4XY&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=139287091&pf_rd_i=468294">copy</a>.<br/></span></span><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br/>Now I'm off to lay awake for six hours grinding my teeth until I fall asleep an hour before my alarm goes off...<br/><br/>Sometimes I wonder why I got into this crazy game!</span></span><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br/></span></span>Fan Clubtag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-09-16:537324:BlogPost:732332007-09-16T21:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Now I don't<br />
normally like to blow my own trumpet (although I knew someone at school<br />
who was double jointed and used to smugly claim that he could) but in<br />
this case I couldn't resist.</span> <br></br><br></br><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Yes, it's official, I have a fan club. And no it wasn't set up by my mum. It's on the stupidly popular…</span> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/"></a>
<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Now I don't<br />
normally like to blow my own trumpet (although I knew someone at school<br />
who was double jointed and used to smugly claim that he could) but in<br />
this case I couldn't resist.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Yes, it's official, I have a fan club. And no it wasn't set up by my mum. It's on the stupidly popular</span> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Facebook</span></a> <span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">and was set up by my one celebrity fan,</span> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URRyptMHiB4"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Ben Peyton</span></a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">.
If you watch The Bill or Casualty, you'll know who I mean. Oh yes, I<br />
don't just have any old riff-raff fans you know! Nothing but the best<br />
for you.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Now
for the bad news. Despite Ben's best efforts, at the last count it only<br />
had 7 members. Yes that's right, seven. And one of those is my mum! So<br />
come on people, throw me a bone here. Sign up to my fan club please, as<br />
this is now getting rather embarrassing.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">You need to be registered on</span> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Facebook</span></a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">
- once in, simply search under James Twining - Unofficial Fan Club and<br />
then follow the instructions to join. I've no idea what treats Ben has<br />
in store for you once there - you'll have to wait and see...</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">***</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">How quickly things change. Having boasted of my manly DIY prowess last <a href="http://lerififi.blogspot.com/2007/09/man-sized.html">week</a>, I have suffered an debilitating reversal of fortune in the virility stakes. I have lost my mobile phone.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Actually,
to be more accurate, my wife lost it. But that's hardly the point. I<br />
feel like a knight without a horse, a sharpshooter without a gun,<br />
Indiana Jones without his hat. My whole life was in that bloody thing<br />
and now it's probably half way to Nigeria with a container load of flat<br />
screen TVs and printer cartridges.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Mobile
phones are unique for their size being inversely proportional to their<br />
desirability - the smaller and thinner they are, the sexier. And<br />
believe me mine was tiny, not to mention equipped with phenomenal<br />
staying power (battery life) - the sort of phone that had women<br />
blushing every time I flopped it out onto the bar.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">It's
replacement, in contrast, has stripped away my mojo - it's the size of<br />
a brick and equipped with with the world's smallest (black and white)<br />
screen and massive keys that seem to have been designed to help<br />
children learn to count. I've heard of retro chic, but this is<br />
ridiculous - it's a museum piece. Not to mention the embarrassment<br />
caused when I put it in my back pocket yesterday - I'm reliably<br />
informed that the tell-tale posterior bulge made it look like I'd had<br />
an unfortunate accident.</span> <br/><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">Oh joy.</span> <br/>Man Sizedtag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-08-31:537324:BlogPost:732162007-08-31T21:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">God I feel virile! Not in a <em>rip her knickers off and ride her bareback</em> sort<br />
of way (at least no more than usual). I'm talking about a much more<br />
basic, instinctive, hunter-gatherer sort of virility. The sort that<br />
drinks beer, farts a lot, finds the word "bottom" funny, watches<br />
endless repeats of Buffy (or is that just me?) and can, whatever the<br />
time, city or state of inebriation, navigate unerringly to the nearest<br />
kebab van. I'm…</span>
<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;">God I feel virile! Not in a <em>rip her knickers off and ride her bareback</em> sort<br />
of way (at least no more than usual). I'm talking about a much more<br />
basic, instinctive, hunter-gatherer sort of virility. The sort that<br />
drinks beer, farts a lot, finds the word "bottom" funny, watches<br />
endless repeats of Buffy (or is that just me?) and can, whatever the<br />
time, city or state of inebriation, navigate unerringly to the nearest<br />
kebab van. I'm talking about being a man.</span><br/><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"><br/>You see my wife had this brilliant idea. <em>"Let's stay at home this summer,"</em> She suggested. <em>"We can spend some time in the garden and go on some nice day trips in and around London. It'll be fun."</em> And then to clinch it. <em>"We'll save some money."</em><br/><br/>I
don't think she could have been any more wrong. Summer. What summer? It<br />
rained almost non-stop for the whole two weeks I took off. The only<br />
time we set foot in the garden was to check that next door's cat hadn't<br />
drowned in the paddling pool. And as for saving money, it would have<br />
been cheaper to fly all four of us first class to the Seychelles. You<br />
see when the weather's that bad, a shopping mall is the only place you<br />
can get out of the house and stay dry. So my wife has finally got the<br />
new sitting room furniture she'd been angling for all year. In fact,<br />
now I think about it, I wonder if that wasn't the plan all along ...<br/><br/>Not
that the two weeks were entirely wasted. It was brilliant to spend time<br />
with the girls and I, thank God, slowly inched my way towards having<br />
the vague outline of a story and characters for Book 4 which I'm<br />
getting quite excited about. Hooray. Plus I finally got round to all<br />
those annoying little jobs I'd been putting off - repainting the front<br />
gate, varnishing the back door, repairing the guttering, rerouting a<br />
waste pipe. I bet you never knew I was so handy! I even, after one<br />
particularly violent downpour had left an inch of water lapping against<br />
my french windows, resolved to clean my drains which were quite clearly<br />
blocked. <br/><br/>I tackled this with my father-in-law who assured me
it would be easy. That was until we popped the manhole cover. We found<br />
three feet of foul and dark water, peopled by sleek brown shapes that<br />
were nosing their way through swirling icebergs of rotten tissue paper<br />
like seals. The smell made me heave and it was all I could do not to<br />
stumble head first into the gaping opening. My instinct was to call for<br />
Dyno-ripoff but then some deeper, primitive urge took over. No. I<br />
didn't need any help. I could protect my family from the rising tide of<br />
the turd army myself. <br/><br/>We went out a brought a rodding set
which I assembled and fed into the opening. A couple of firm thrusts<br />
and I broke through, the drain spasming as it emptied its contents with<br />
a wild, sucking noise. I glanced up at the house exultantly, a strange<br />
glow washing over me as I saw my family staring at me proudly through<br />
the glass. Was this, I wondered, what it felt like when you brought<br />
home a fresh kill to your cave or fought off a raid from a neighbouring<br />
village? Turds banished. House safe. £120 saved. Job done.<br/><br/>It took two days to wash the smell off me. It was worth it.<br/><br/>P.S. Publication date in the UK for <strong>The Gilded Seal</strong> is October 15th. Anyone fancy coming to the launch party in London? Let me know and we'll see what I can do.</span> <br/>4th book syndrometag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-08-03:537324:BlogPost:599442007-08-03T11:06:41.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana">Fellow thriller writer (doing annoyingly well)</font> <a href="http://crimespace.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=537324%3ABlogPost%3A45357" style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font color="#606420">Tom Cain</font></a> <font face="verdana">has posted about the trauma of writing 'The Second Novel', especially when burdened by weight of expectation following the success of the first. He drew the comparison with rock groups, who pack their first album full of the…</font></font></div>
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana">Fellow thriller writer (doing annoyingly well)</font> <a style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana" href="http://crimespace.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=537324%3ABlogPost%3A45357"><font color="#606420">Tom Cain</font></a> <font face="verdana">has posted about the trauma of writing 'The Second Novel', especially when burdened by weight of expectation following the success of the first. He drew the comparison with rock groups, who pack their first album full of the material they have spent years developing in a friend's garage, and then find themselves short of inspiration (and time as they are now on the road) to complete the second.</font></font></div>
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana">This got me thinking, because although I have had <a href="http://lerififi.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html"><font color="#606420">Dodgy Title Syndrome</font></a> and Cover Selection Syndrome (all well documented authorial afflictions), Second Novel Syndrome sort of passed me by - The Black Sun had taken shape well before I'd finished The Double Eagle. In fact I think I'd finished the first draft while I was still copy editing the first book. And the third novel, The Gilded Seal, was almost fully formed by the time I finally put pen to paper. Perhaps, I thought, I had some genetic immunity to the diseases regularly contracted by other writers. Maybe I was special.</font></font></div>
<div><font face="Verdana" size="2">How wrong I was. A few days ago I received a message from longstanding Tom Kirk fan and email correspondent Jason Watson:</font></div>
<div><font face="verdana" size="2"><em>"I know its very early (well maybe not that much) but have you had any thoughts on book 4?"</em></font></div>
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana">An innocent enough question, you may think. And not unreasonable given looming mid 2008 deadline, as he helpfully noted. But a question, nonetheless, that allowed me to complete a process of self-diagnosis that I had rather been shying away from. Yes, I admit it - I am suffering a severe bout of Fourth Novel Syndrome.</font></font></div>
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana">It's so embarrassing. I barely dare go out, knowing that everyone will be whispering <em>"Look, do you see him? That's the writer I was telling you about. The one who doesn't really know what his next book will be."</em> It's so unexpected too, considering that when I first went in to meet Bruce (my editor) I outlined five or six Tom Kirk plot ideas which have either been used by me, copied by other writers or simply don't work.</font></font></div>
<div><font face="Verdana" size="2">Of course it's not that bad - I'm a writer for God's sake, so allow me some creative licence to create a drama out of a crisis!! I do, believe it or not, have some vague elements that are swimming around in my head - Caravaggio, Rome, the Mafia, grave robbing, dysfunctional families, matricide, Geneva's airport warehouses, yachts, the Medici ... But I haven't quite been able to pull them together yet. But that's fine - I think people produce their best stuff when the pressure is on. In fact I'm quite excited.</font></div>
<div><font face="Verdana" size="2">And in any case, rather than focus on the depressing image of failed rock groups, I have turned to the movie business as a source of inspiration. Martin Scorsese for instance, who had a run that included Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas, Casino, Gangs of New York and The Departed, proves that you can actually come up with the goods again and again. Or Quentin Tarantino who directed Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown, Kill B... Okay, so that's where the analogy falls down, but you know what I mean.</font></div>
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana">So while Tom Cain scours the world for another famous celebrity that he can kill off in an accident (your words, not mine Tom!), I'm off to knock all these ideas in my head into a story. Or write that brilliant first album.</font></font></div>
<div><font size="2"><font face="verdana"><br/></font></font>*** <br/><font size="2"><font face="verdana"><br/>As an aside, the fall-out from <a href="http://lerififi.blogspot.com/2007/07/harrogate-friday-2005.html"><font color="#0000FF">my account</font></a> of goings on at the Harrogate crime festival continues ... My publishers (in the shapely form of my publicist Kelly) have received anonymous voice mails demanding that I remove the offending post. Meanwhile I have received messages from phantom email addresses questioning my version of events and suggesting I correct them. But you will be pleased to know that having taken soundings from some of my fellow bloggers as well as people who were actually there, I have decided not to compromise by journalistic integrity by censoring myself. It happened just the way I described it and if you don't like it, then tough. (This is how Bob Woodward must have felt when he blew the lid on Watergate.)</font></font></div>Harrogate - A to Ztag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-07-25:537324:BlogPost:575702007-07-25T17:57:54.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>Friday 19th July - 7:50am</strong></span></font><br />
<div align="left"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">D Day. Or rather DdM day. Only a few hours and a disgusting British Rail cooked breakfast now stand between me and my du Maurier panel and professional humiliation.</font></span></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br></br><br></br><font size="1">Actually, it's not…</font></span></div>
<font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>Friday 19th July - 7:50am</strong></span></font><br />
<div align="left"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">D Day. Or rather DdM day. Only a few hours and a disgusting British Rail cooked breakfast now stand between me and my du Maurier panel and professional humiliation.</font></span></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">Actually, it's not that bad. I have somehow managed to pack four novels and 8 short stories into the last five days. And after a shaky start, I found in My Cousin Rachel a wonderfully compelling and beautifully written novel. Not to mention the coded sub-text reference to anal sex in Rebecca that I'm still debating whether I should bring up!</font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">By the way, if you happen to be near a radio, Radio York is interviewing me at about 11:30 today. Yes I know - my life is one long sequence of glamorous media assignments ... It'll be Jay Leno next.</font></span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">In case you're wondering, I'm actually writing this blog while sitting on the train in King's Cross, having successfully dodged all the kids dressed as wizards frantically looking for Platform whatever-it-is-and-three-quarters as they settle in to wait for the publication of the new Harry Potter tonight. The miracle of modern technology. I'll be posting regular updates over the next few days so check back in. It's known as live blogging, or logging, although that sounds like</font></span></span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><font size="1"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">something you spend the night doing after a bad curry...<br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Friday 20th July - 8:50pm</span></span></font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><font size="1">So that's that then. Panel done. Thank God for that. And amazingly, it wasn't quite the train wreck I had predicted. At least that's what the nice ladies who came up to me later said.</font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">I managed to cram in references to the few books I had read (and the many I had skimmed through) together with allusions to enough short stories to make it look like I knew what I was talking about! Plus to spice it up, I mentioned that DdM was bisexual, that there were some things she wasn't so brilliant at (character, clunky plot elements etc.) and slipped in my anal sex reference for good measure. You want to give good panel? Just say the word lesbian and back passage in the same sentence and you're onto a winner.</font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">In fact the whole experience reminded me of when I went to see my tutor after getting my degree result. I was feeling rather full of myself at the time, as despite all his dire predictions, I had somehow scraped a First by learning hundreds of quotes by heart and then littering my essays with them to make it look like I was far more widely read and insightful than I in fact was.</font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">Sensing my triumphant mood (and possibly the tactics I had adopted), he lost no time in cutting me back down to size.</font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br/><br/><font size="1">"A First isn't a sign of intelligence,"</font></span> <font size="1">he said. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"It's not even a sign of hard work. In fact the only thing you need to get one is to be a smart</span> alec<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">."</span></font></span></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">So that's me then. A smart alec. And boy was I grateful for it today!</font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/><font size="1">Saturday 21st July - 9:50am</font></span></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><font size="1">There is one achievement that crime and thrillers writers prize above all others - outlasting</font></span> <a href="http://www.alexbarclay.co.uk/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Alex Barclay</font></strong></span></a> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">at the bar.</span></font></span> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">And last night I managed it. Long after 'la Barclay' retired, defeated, to her boudoir, I was still up and partying hard. (Needless to say</span> <a href="http://www.simonkernick.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000">Simon Kernick</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">and</span> <a href="http://www.kevinwignall.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000">Kevin Wignall</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">were still knocking shots back by the time I finally called it a day).</span></span></font><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">It was in reality, a rather tame evening, as I think people were saving their energy for tonight's no-holds-barred extravaganza. But it didn't wholly pass without incident: there is a rather strange man here, a Scandi called ****** or something</font></span> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">(name withheld to spare embarassment!), who as well as being an unreformed drunk, appears to be an unashamed letch.</span></font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">Nothing unusual (or wrong) about that some of you might say, but several of us observed him 'working the room' last night, moving stealthily from girl to girl, thrusting his sweaty face into their conversations, casually stroking their bare arms or snaking his arm around their necks to draw them close.</font></span><br/><br/><font size="1"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">My first instinct was to admire his persistence, as repeated (but far more polite) variations of "</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">p**s off</span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">" from his visibly uncomfortable victims elicited nothing more than an amused shrug. Undaunted, he simply crept away to find his next target. The snatched fragment of his chat-up routine that</span> <span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">I overheard ("<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I want to make sexy time</span>" - yes, I am serious) further impressed me - many of us think it, but few of us actually say it.</span></font></span> <span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><font size="1">But as I watched, my admiration soon gave way to a kind of horrified revulsion. Watching him at work is actually one of the more disturbing things I have ever seen; part vampire, part stalker, part night-bus flasher. You just knew that at the first sign of weakness, hesitation or drunkenness from whoever he was talking to, he would strike.</font></span></span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><font size="1"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Eventually my patience snapped and I (uncharacteristically for me) marched over and led him away from the two women he had just accosted.<br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"Why don't you leave the girls alone,</span>" I blazed as I pinned him to the wall, overcome with knightly valor. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"Can't you see none of them want to even talk to you, let alone be felt up by you. Go to bed and stop making a fool of yourself."</span></span></font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">He stared at me blankly for a few minutes, then slurred a response.</font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-STYLE: italic"><font size="1">"You are not educated British gentleman. You did not go to Cambridge."<br/><br/></font></span></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">That's when I knew the guy was mental. Anyone who equates Cambridge with good manners is clearly beyond redemption.</font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/><font size="1">Sunday 22 July - 10:45am</font></span></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><font size="1">My chivalric intervention on Saturday night has been earning me doe-eyed looks and gushing write-ups from all the women molested by the "fiddler from the fjords" over the previous few nights. If only I'd realised when I was single that picking a scrap at a bar with someone smaller than yourself and too drunk to put up any resistance made you more attractive to the opposite sex. Maybe that's why everyone fights in Newcastle at the weekend. It's like some primeval mating ritual.</font></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">Not that the Scandi sex pest is the only odd person here. One person in particular has a handshake like a drowned ferret and chases authors round the hotel asking for "a leetle photo pleeese". Nothing wrong in that you might think, beyond his strange sing-song voice that is part Borat and part the weaselly guy in The Mummy who carries all the good luck charms around his neck and comes to a rather sticky end.</font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/><font size="1">More disturbing is his rudeness. When</font></span> <a href="http://www.nickstone.co.uk/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Nick Stone</font></strong></span></a> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">asked him what he thought of his new book, he gave a weak smile and then made a sound like someone laughing nervously while being sick, before saying - <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"I no like"</span>. Unsurprisingly Nick told him to f**k off. Undaunted, the next day he came back as if nothing had happened and asked for another "<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">leetle photo</span>". I refused to let him take mine, saying that I was worried it would capture my soul, an explanation which, weirdly, he accepted without question. But when I went up to my room I did check under the bed to make sure he wasn't lying in wait for me.</span></font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/><font size="1">All the Harper Collins authors went out for dinner last night -</font></span> <a href="http://halfhead.blogspot.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Stuart McBride</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><font size="1">,</font></span></span> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><a href="http://www.alexbarclay.co.uk/"><strong><font color="#000000">Alex Barclay</font></strong></a></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">,</span> <a href="http://www.michaelmarshallsmith.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000">Michael Marshall</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">and</span> <a href="http://www.steve-jackson.net/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000">Steve Jackson</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">- together with assorted editors and publicity folk, including my dashing editor, Bruce. We had a great meal, the highlight of which was McBride's face when I tricked the staff into believing it was his birthday and they produced a cake topped with an ICBM-sized sparkler. It's not often he's lost for words, or embarrassed, but last night was definitely one of them. (By the way, don't believe a word he says about me and the Madonna concert - he's Scottish and that ridiculous beard muffles his hearing!) We got back in time for the quiz. Our team was bobbins, although I did get the Daphne du Maurier quote!</span></span></font><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/><font size="1">Outlasted Barclay at the bar again - she's definitely lost her touch. Also there were regulars</font> <a href="http://www.markbillingham.com/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Mark Billingham</font></strong></a><font size="1">,</font> <a href="http://www.simonkernick.com/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Simon Kernick</font></strong></a><font size="1">,</font> <a href="http://www.kevinwignall.com/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Kevin Wignall</font></strong></a><font size="1">,</font> <a href="http://www.dredamitchell.co.uk/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Dreda Say Mitchell</font></strong></a><font size="1">,</font> <a href="http://www.lydmouth.demon.co.uk/us/laura/wilson.htm"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Laura Wilson</font></strong></a> <font size="1">plus all the Harper mob of course and</font> <a href="http://www.fionacane.com/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Fiona Cane</font></strong></a> <font size="1">who showed up looking as glamorous as ever. And 'new boy'</font> <a href="http://www.accidentman.blogspot.com/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Tom Cain</font></strong></a> <font size="1">put in a guest appearance too - I use 'new' and 'boy' in the loosest possible sense of the words! Have to say the real joy of these conferences are those late night sessions when you get to swap war stories with other writers and meet all you incredibly passionate crime readers. It makes it all worthwhile. (Special mention to</font> <a href="http://heavydnilbett.blogspot.com/"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Daryl</font></strong></a> <font size="1">and the nice Irish girl with the red hair whose name I don't know but who was part of the Mark Billingham posse!)<br/></font></span></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">The highlight of the whole weekend for me though, was probably meeting</span></font> <a href="http://www.leechild.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Lee Child</font></strong></span></a> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">(again), and</span></font> <a href="http://www.harlancoben.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Harlan Coben</font></strong></span></a> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">for the first time.</span></font></span> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">One of the nice things about the crime world is that people like them who are at the top of their game are so accessible and willing to talk and provide encouragement and advice to the rest of us. But to my annoyance, our conversation was suddenly cut short by a nasal whine.</span></font><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/><font size="1">"<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">A leetle photo pleeese.</span>"<br/><br/></font></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Sunday 22 July - 10:30pm<br/></span>So there we are. Another crime writing festival pats us on the shoulder, ruffles our hair and wishes us good luck until next year. And what a good festival it was. Thank-you</span></font> <a href="http://http://www.lydmouth.demon.co.uk/us/natasha/cooper.htm"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Daphne Wright / Natasha Cooper</font></strong></span></a> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">for asking me to take part - hopefully I didn't let you down. Thank-you also <a href="http://www.theakstons.co.uk/"><strong><font color="#000000">Simon Theakston</font></strong></a></span></font> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><font size="1">for sponsoring the whole thing. He and I actually were interviewed together for Radio York on the first day during which he confirmed my suspicions that he's a thoroughly nice man! And he had the most incredible spiel about how a glass of Theakston's Old Peculiar was very much like a good crime novel. I've no idea what he said but I remember thinking it was genius at the time. In fact, I'm off for a pint of Agatha Christie right now.<br/><br/>Cheerio.</font></span></span></div>Dead Linetag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-07-14:537324:BlogPost:551132007-07-14T17:30:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span class="src"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Deadline</span>,</span></font> <font style="FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span class="prondelim">[</span><span class="pron"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ded</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lahyn</span></span><span class="prondelim">]</span>, noun - origin 1855-1860</font><font style="FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br></br>1. The time…</font>
<font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span class="src"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Deadline</span>,</span></font> <font style="FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span class="prondelim">[</span><span class="pron"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ded</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lahyn</span></span><span class="prondelim">]</span>, noun - origin 1855-1860</font><font style="FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/>1. The time by which something must be finished or submitted; the latest time for finishing something: a five o'clock deadline<br/></font><font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">2. a boundary around a military prison beyond which a prisoner could not venture without risk of being shot by the guards</span><br/><br/>Of the two dictionary definitions above, I am infinitely more familiar with the first. After all, the whole book industry seems to anchor itself around deadlines of one sort or the other, some real, others imaginary. The more tangible are often firmly inked into contracts - "Book X, a manuscript copy of which is to be submitted no later than to be submitted no later than such and such a date ..." <br/><br/>The problem is that deadlines like this never travel alone. They gather up into their skirts a dark host of shadow deadlines who hang tenaciously from the original like ivy from a tree. Dates by which titles have to be agreed, cover designs approved, editorial comments addressed, copy and proof editing completed. Each as real as they one sealed with a handshake and a cheque, but never actually agreed upon or even discussed until they are almost upon you and it is too late to do anything but meet them with clenched teeth and a mumbled curse. <br/><br/>And yet it is the second, more unfamiliar definition detailed above,</font> <font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">with its hint of possible death and disaster,</font> <font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">that resonates more with me at the moment. Perhaps this will explain why:<br/><br/></font><font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">HARROGATE CRIME WRITING FESTIVAL<br/>DAPHNE DU</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">MAURIER</span> <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">CENTENARY PANEL - 20 July (6pm)</span><br/><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">CHAIR</span>: Margaret Kinsman<br/><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">PANEL</span>: Kate Saunders, Philip <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Gooden</span>, Laura Wilson, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">James Twining</span><br/><br/>The problem? Just the small matter of me having barely read a single book of hers yet, whilst my fellow panelists seem to have been swotting up for months! (See <a href="http://lerififi.blogspot.com/2007/04/bitter-and-mild.html">Mild and Bitter</a>). I've basically got five days to consume and digest the collected life and works of Daphne <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">du</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Maurier</span> before offering myself up to a sharp-toothed pack of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">DdM</span> anoraks and assorted crime <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">officianados</span> and hoping they're on a diet and let me off with a gentle mauling.</font> <font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">If ever a deadline carried with it the promise of utter humiliation and disaster in front of a gathered host of critics, book lovers and fellow writers, then this, surely, must be it.</font> <font style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/>As if this wasn't bad enough, the issue has been compounded by the fact that what I've read so far hasn't exactly, how should I put this, moved me. In other words, I've not got much to say and what I do have to say isn't that complementary, although I'm reserving final judgement until I've got a few more miles under the hood. <br/><br/>As the thought of the next five days looms over me, I find myself longing for the warm comfort of the prison camp and the original dead-line as described in the second definition above. At least there I could choose to make a run for it and get shot into the bargain!<br/><br/><br/>PS - if you fancy coming and throwing a few rotten eggs, there are still some tickets available! Click <a href="http://www.harrogate-festival.org.uk/crime/">here</a>.</font>If the shoe fits ...tag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-07-02:537324:BlogPost:521572007-07-02T13:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<font size="1">Writing is certainly not for the faint of heart or the weak of spirit. You don't believe me? Just click through to Amazon and read some of the customer reviews posted against your favourite books and writers, including yours truly. It can make for some pretty brutal reading.<br />
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<br></br><br></br>Never believe a writer who tells you they don't read reviews. It's a lie. They all do, me included. After all, it would be incredibly arrogant not to care what your readership had to say. If you're…</font>
<font size="1">Writing is certainly not for the faint of heart or the weak of spirit. You don't believe me? Just click through to Amazon and read some of the customer reviews posted against your favourite books and writers, including yours truly. It can make for some pretty brutal reading.<br />
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<br/><br/>Never believe a writer who tells you they don't read reviews. It's a lie. They all do, me included. After all, it would be incredibly arrogant not to care what your readership had to say. If you're prepared to take their money, you should certainly be prepared to listen to what they like and don't like about your work.
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<br/><br/>And much as you'd like to, you can't just dismiss bad reviews because you don't like them. Not unless you're willing to dismiss the good ones too, which most writers aren't - I post mine up on my website! The problem is how random these more negative reviews can be, with one person criticising the very thing that someone else has identified as your greatest strength. The answer, according to my agent J-Lo, is to "date" reviews, not marry them. In other words, you don't have to take everything to heart. Personally I look for two things before I start listening - either patterns, where the same point is raised by lots of different people again and again, or resonance, where a point chimes with something you instinctively feel is right.
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<br/><br/>It's certainly much easier to dismiss a review if it is plain wrong or obviously vindictive. For example, the one word review that one Amazon reader left for me ("Dire") was so bad it was funny. The reviews that really annoy me are the ones where people seem to be judging my books against literary or other inappropriate criteria, rather than against other thrillers and the basic features and conventions of that genre. It's a bit like going to a Linkin Park concert and complaining that it's too loud, or moaning that a Ferrari doesn't have enough luggage space. That's the whole point! That's part of what makes it what it is.
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<br/><br/>I have to say that our good friends the Americans are the hardest to please. Everyone says the US is a tough market, but I didn't know how tough until the first few customer reviews began to be posted on Amazon.com. Not only are they much more vocal in voicing their opinions, but they never seem to occupy the middle ground. They either love it or hate it. The only problem is that they email me when they love it, and post it on the internet when they hate it for the whole world to see!
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<br/><br/>Perhaps it is an unfortunate by-product of today's Big Brother / Pop Idol world that people seem so ready to criticise, often quite vindictively and at great length, as if trying to out-Cowell Simon Cowell. Praise is certainly the much scarcer commodity. If you click through on the names of some of these e-critics, you can see who else has felt the sharp lash of their keyboard - often they have come off no better. Is there a small army of bitter readers out there - failed writers perhaps - who spend their time knifing unsuspecting authors from a distance, safely concealed behind their anonymous usernames?
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<br/><br/>With my first book especially, I used to take any feedback very personally. At one stage I was logging in on an almost daily basis to see what comments had been posted, with a good one seeing me in high spirits and a bad one confining me to a black mood for the rest of the day. I used to coral friends and families to post favourable reviews to repair the irreparable damage that I assumed was being done to my career and reputation by these swivel-chair critics. I even at one stage formed a variety of Amazon identities to post up some of the positive messages that had been emailed to me to try and tip the odds in my favour.
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<br/><br/>It’s a losing battle. And, I came to realise, a pointless one. You can’t (nor should you seek to) control the Internet and the power of free speech it confers onto all users. More to the point, perhaps, people don’t make purchase decisions on the back of Amazon reviews but on word of mouth and newspaper reviews and price promotions and in-store positioning. Good sales are often a far better guide to reader satisfaction than a self-selecting group of Amazon reviewers. In fact I sometimes wonder if there’s a direct correlation between high sales and negative feedback – it’s much more satisfying to bash a successful book!
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<br/><br/>As Oscar Wilde once said, the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about at all!</font>Top Shelf Shuffletag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-06-12:537324:BlogPost:477222007-06-12T22:22:42.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<font size="1" style="font-family: verdana;">I'm not sure whether it's<br />
just me, but since I've been writing I seem to have developed this<br />
masochistic streak. It manifests itself most acutely in my inability<br />
to walk past a bookshop without popping in to see if they have my books<br />
in stock. <br></br><br></br>It's a thankless task. If they don't have them, it
depresses me. If they do (which to be fair to Harper Collins is<br />
increasingly the case) they are more often than not at the back of the<br />
shop and…</font>
<font style="font-family: verdana;" size="1">I'm not sure whether it's<br />
just me, but since I've been writing I seem to have developed this<br />
masochistic streak. It manifests itself most acutely in my inability<br />
to walk past a bookshop without popping in to see if they have my books<br />
in stock. <br/><br/>It's a thankless task. If they don't have them, it
depresses me. If they do (which to be fair to Harper Collins is<br />
increasingly the case) they are more often than not at the back of the<br />
shop and displayed spine on, which triggers a renewed bout of angst and<br />
soul-searching.<br/><br/>But it also gives rise to that most common of authorial afflictions - the <span style="font-weight: bold;">top shelf shuffle.</span> <br/>I'm
talking here, of course, about the practice of slipping unnoticed into<br />
a bookshop, casually locating your books, and then subtly redeploying<br />
them (apart from the one copy you leave behind, face out) at other,<br />
more prominent locations. In the chart, for example, or on the Summer<br />
Read or Special Offer tables at the front of the store. Anything to<br />
get it out in front of the paying public. Ask any writer you know -<br />
they're all at it, and they often <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ro</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pe</span>their family and friends in too. My wife, for example, once peeled "three for two" labels off someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">else's</span> books and then stuck them on mine so she could upgrade me to a special promotion. What a trooper! <br/><br/>
It is, of course, a Sisyphean endeavour. No sooner have you carefully<br />
(and surreptitiously) moved the books to a new location, then the<br />
staff, fired by some strange missionary zeal, scoop them up and cart<br />
them back to the familiar obscurity of the general fiction shelf.<br />
You'd think eventually they'd just give up, but no - they seem to fight<br />
for every inch of those little front tables as if their lives depended<br />
on it. <br/><br/>They must get p***ed off by writers coming in and
screwing up their displays. In fact I'd be surprised if my local store<br />
hadn't performed an exorcism on its crime and thriller section, given<br />
the poltergeist-like activity that leads to my books spontaneously<br />
materialising twenty feet away from where they are meant to be. Maybe<br />
they view it as a game, but to most writers it is a war. A war of<br />
attrition where neither side is prepared to give up.<br/><br/>Of course deep down, all writers know that all this skulduggery makes no difference
to their sales. We do it, because we are all victims of the random<br />
vicissitudes of the publishing world, where neither successes nor<br />
failures can be predicted and careers are made or broken on the back of<br />
distribution agreements and marketing spend. <br/>
<br/>
Moving the books to the front tables or turning them so that they are<br />
face out, is a way of taking a stand. For a few precious minutes, we<br />
actually believe we've done something that might help influence our<br />
fate. Right up until the shop assistants gather us up and the dance<br />
begins again! <br/></font>Summer Dreamstag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-06-01:537324:BlogPost:457612007-06-01T09:30:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<font size="1"><span style="font-size: 85%; font-family: verdana;">Just back from a mini-break in (of all places) Marbella. I say mini-break because, according to the wife, it doesn't become a holiday until you are away for more than 5 nights - I wish I'd understood this subtlety when I booked it, as apparently this means we still need to go away again on a "proper" family vacation! More money... <br></br><br></br>Anyway, technically speaking we weren't in Marbella, but down the road in Puerto Banus…</span></font>
<font size="1"><span style="font-size: 85%; font-family: verdana;">Just back from a mini-break in (of all places) Marbella. I say mini-break because, according to the wife, it doesn't become a holiday until you are away for more than 5 nights - I wish I'd understood this subtlety when I booked it, as apparently this means we still need to go away again on a "proper" family vacation! More money... <br/><br/>Anyway, technically speaking we weren't in Marbella, but down the road in Puerto Banus where a friend of ours lives. Strange place. The harbour is encrusted with million dollar yachts and the quayside embroidered with Bentleys and air-conditioned designer stores. And yet walk a few streets in, and you find strip bars and souvenir shops jostling for position with "genuine" Irish pubs serving all-day breakfasts. As the sun sets, the streets swarm with baying packs of pink-skinned adolescents playing drinking games and urinating in doorways. Later, as the moon rises, the girls swoop down, skirts hitched and tops pulled down low; teeth bared, they sniff out their prey according to their key fobs - the more expensive your motor, the better your chances. <br/><br/>There's money here, but all of it's new and in your face - the biggest decision one of my friend's neighbors faced every day was whether to drive his black Hummer, yellow Lamborghini Gallardo or red Ferrari 360. The men wear diamond encrusted gold Bulgari watches and Hackett polo shirts, their prison tattoos lost in the matted hair of their tanned forearms. The women are teak coloured with Barbie blonde hair, three grand handbags flung casually over their shoulders, their boobs as plastic as the food in the photos that adorn the menus of the harbour-front restaurants.<br/><br/>Given this, I had slightly mixed feelings about the local taste in books, as the local English language bookshop had copies of The Black Sun in their Bestseller section. Given my previous rant about not being stocked abroad (see</span> <a href="http://lerififi.blogspot.com/2007/04/batteries-not-included.html"><span style="font-size: 85%; font-family: verdana;"><strong><font color="#000000">Batteries not Included</font></strong></span></a><span style="font-size: 85%; font-family: verdana;">), I could hardly complain, although I did slightly question if this was what Bruce (my editor) had in mind when he referred to my "target demographic". Perhaps there was another factor at play - after all, over 80% of the global supply of 500 Euro notes are apparently to be found along the coast of Southern Spain. Why? Money laundering; lots of it. Maybe I have a growing fan base amidst the Costa de Crime’s criminal fraternity!<br/><br/>Anyway, the best part of the holiday / mini-break was that for the first time ever, I saw someone reading The Black Sun! Friends have told me they've seen people reading my books before, but I've never actually seen anyone myself. The fact that they were on a beach, sipping a Mojito, made it even better. You see I always read thrillers when away, and I took the decision to start writing whilst on a beach in Bora Bora on honeymoon. So seeing someone lying on a sun lounger, engrossed, gave me a real sense of having closed the circle; of achievement. <br/><br/>However, having learnt my lesson from the time when I accosted someone at Gatwick who was leafing through The Double Eagle and excitedly announcing that I was the author (he immediately returned it to the shelf and backed away fearfully), this time I didn't say anything and just walked on with a smile. Besides, it was getting late, and I wanted to get to O'Grady's for a “full English” before they stopped serving!</span></font>Growing Painstag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-05-17:537324:BlogPost:457602007-05-17T09:30:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">I have to admit, I haven't quite cracked this whole blogging lark. It's not that I don't have lots of things to say - who doesn't like the sounds of their own voice! - it's just that I never seem to find the time. The only consolation is I'm not the only one who struggles with this. Apparently</span> <a href="http://www.llrocks.com/journal.html"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000">Lindsay…</font></strong></span></a>
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">I have to admit, I haven't quite cracked this whole blogging lark. It's not that I don't have lots of things to say - who doesn't like the sounds of their own voice! - it's just that I never seem to find the time. The only consolation is I'm not the only one who struggles with this. Apparently</span> <a href="http://www.llrocks.com/journal.html"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000">Lindsay Lohan</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">is also an absentee blogger. (Actually, you're right, that's no consolation at all)</span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><br/><br/>Anyway in my case, it's not just the blog. I've been meaning to send out a newsletter for months, but can't seem to get round to that either. Normally I'd say you find the time for the things you want to do, but in this case ...<br/><br/>Maybe this is fallout from the mad rush to hand in <em>The Gilded Seal</em> on time. It took such a push to get it over the line that part of me is happy to tread water for a little while. Is that so wrong? Probably. A writer's work is never done.<br/><br/>It's not that I've been completely idle. I went to a launch party for Paul Strathern's excellent book,</span> <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2007/05/03/bostr29.xml"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><strong><font color="#000000">Napoleon in Egypt</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">. I saw Arsenal thrash Fulham. I even went to the Society of Bookmen dinner (don't ask me what it is, but apparently it's a big deal to be asked!) at the Savoy Club, courtsey of my agent, J-Lo. And last weekend I went to Paris with the family, where all my grand plans for an activity filled weekend were derailed by Amelia insisting on riding the donkeys in the Ranelagh Gardens again and again.<br/><br/>Actually, now I think about it, I've got this all wrong. I was far less busy when I was writing! So there's no excuse for not keeping the blog up to date.</span></span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">***</span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">PS - Before I forget, anyone who happens to be in the Chorleywood area this Sunday 20th May at 7:30pm, (If you don't know where it is, then there's no point in me explaining) I'm talking about art crime at the Memorial Hall as part of the <a href="http://www.cwlitfest.org/"><strong><font color="#000000">Book Festival</font></strong></a>. See you there.</span>Commercial Break?tag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-04-24:537324:BlogPost:457592007-04-24T09:30:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>Can anyone explain the newspaper book-pages to me?</strong> I just can't figure them out. While page after page is devoted to non-fiction and supposedly "literary" novels, the best that more "commercial" works can hope for is a dismissive mention on a roundup page or, more often than not, being ignored altogether. This despite the fact that commercial fiction in general (and crime and thrillers in particular), accounts for the vast…</span>
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>Can anyone explain the newspaper book-pages to me?</strong> I just can't figure them out. While page after page is devoted to non-fiction and supposedly "literary" novels, the best that more "commercial" works can hope for is a dismissive mention on a roundup page or, more often than not, being ignored altogether. This despite the fact that commercial fiction in general (and crime and thrillers in particular), accounts for the vast majority of UK book sales - just take a look at the Sunday Times bestseller lists and compare the numbers.</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">This isn't sour grapes - well not entirely! But I can't think of another industry in the world where the buying preferences and needs of such a large segment of the population are so completely underserved by the media. Just think for a second of the wall-to-wall coverage (good and bad) that overtly "commercial" rock bands and Hollywood films get, compared to the silent treatment afforded to, for example,</span> <a href="http://authorpages.hoddersystems.com/MartinaCole/newbook.htm"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000">Martina Cole's</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">latest offering, despite her routinely selling 1m copies plus. Can you imagine the pages of</span> <a href="http://www.empireonline.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000">Empire</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">being devoted exclusively to documentaries and those beautifully shot European films where people smoke and argue a lot but basically nothing happens for 90 minutes? And yet that's exactly what it sometimes seems the newspaper Arts and Culture pages offer up on a weekly basis.</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">On one level, this does appear to be symptomatic of a certain form of the intellectual snobbery that afflicts the book industry in particular: the argument seems to go that anything mass-market must be by definition badly written, low-brow and derivative, otherwise people wouldn't be flocking to buy it in such numbers. Not only is this pretty insulting to the millions of us who buy these types of books (let alone the writers!), it also ignores the fact that there are plenty of so called "literary" books that are badly written, leaden-footed and, let's face it, just plain boring. It also fails to account for the quality of writers such as</span> <a href="http://www.johnlecarre.com/profile.html"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000">Le Carré</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">or</span> <a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/features/thomasharris/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000">Thomas Harris</font></strong></span></a> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">(pre Hannibal Rising!) or the iconic cultural impact of James Bond which few "literary" books could ever hope to replicate.</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">But if it is intellectual snobbery, then what drives it? Are the editors of the book-pages frustrated writers content to snipe from the sidelines, or published authors who have seen their worthy 300 page dissection of an adulterous couple's inner monologue crash and burn, and therefore instinctively resent others succeeding? I doubt it.</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Do they see perhaps themselves as the guardians of good taste, as a sort of filter protecting us from being corrupted by mass consumerism? It's true that the barriers to entry for writing a book are quite low (an idea and a laptop) and a lot more books are published than films released or albums made. But then getting published isn't exactly easy, as agents and publishers do act as a pretty effective screen. Besides, who made book-page editors judge and jury, able to decide on our account what we should be reading and what is and isn't worthy of commentary and review?</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Maybe I'm wrong, but somewhere along the line the media (possibly aided and abetted by people within the publishing industry?) seems to have decided that that books aren't part of the entertainment industry, that they operate at a far higher plane than the rather unsavory commercial world that the other creative arts occupy. (Maybe it's something to do with writing - people get quite sniffy about plays too). And yet, depressingly unromantic though it may be to admit it, aren't books competing for people's attention, time and money as much as CDs, DVD and the latest Playstation game?<br/><br/>Believe me I'm not suggesting that all "commercial" books are well written or deserving of our attention, nor that all "literary" books are boring and don't sell - the truth is there are good and bad examples in both genres and as a French Literature graduate and avid thriller reader, I’ve seen my fair share of both! Nor am I saying that the newspaper book pages should simply follow the money and switch their entire focus to commercial fiction - there is a vital role to be played in helping shape opinion and guide us, given the sheer volume of books that hit the shelves.<br/><br/>I guess my fundamental point is that while some readers will only read "literary" fiction and others only "commercial", the majority of people are caught somewhere between the two and are open to a whole range of books, depending on their mood or the time of day or where in the world they happen to be. The type of book you take to read by the pool, for example, might be very different from the one you take on the Tube to work, or curl up with on a cold December afternoon. That has nothing to do about a book being "literary" or "commercial" and much more whether it is a good read, which is surely the ultimate yardstick by which all books should be measured.<br/><br/>Couldn't the book pages do a much better job of reflecting this diversity?</span>Mild and Bittertag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-04-23:537324:BlogPost:457572007-04-23T09:30:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Safely back from Austria (definition of a good break = only 2 nappies changed in four days!) and straight into the bear pit that is the London Book Fair. Luckily I checked my invite before setting out because I was all set on grabbing my passport and making the trek over to Docklands where it was last time round.</span><br></br><br></br><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">This year the festivities were in the far more civilised…</span>
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Safely back from Austria (definition of a good break = only 2 nappies changed in four days!) and straight into the bear pit that is the London Book Fair. Luckily I checked my invite before setting out because I was all set on grabbing my passport and making the trek over to Docklands where it was last time round.</span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">This year the festivities were in the far more civilised (relatively) surroundings of Earl's Court. My invite was courtesy of the <a href="http://www.harrogate-festival.org.uk/crime/index.html"><strong><font color="#000000">Theakston's Crime Writing Festival</font></strong></a> in Harrogate where I am on a panel discussing Daphné du Maurier - yes, in case you're wondering, I'm s***ing myself at the thought of being grilled by an audience of DdM anoraks!</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">I swung by the HarperCollins stand on my way in and had the good fortune to find J-Lo (my agent) locked in conversation with Amanda Ridout, the MD of Harper's General Books Group and VERY IMPORTANT. The good news is they promised me that they had big plans for promoting <em>The Gilded Seal.</em> The bad news is that we agreed to dicuss it further over lunch - based on their reputations, it could get ugly.</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">That brief diversion meant that I timed my entry into the Harrogate event perfectly, arriving just in time to hear the final speech being applauded and to be immediately collared by <a href="http://www.lydmouth.demon.co.uk/us/laura/wilson.htm"><strong><font color="#000000">Laura Wilson</font></strong></a> who:</span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">a) is scarily sharp</span><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">b) is on the same panel as me at Harrogate; and</span> <br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">c) managed to freak me out even more than I already am, by listing all the du Maurier biographies, novels and short stories she has already read. Immediately made a mental note to order entire collected works from Amazon as soon as I got home that night.</span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">Then bumped into the loveley <a href="http://www.lydmouth.demon.co.uk/us/natasha/cooper.htm"><strong><font color="#000000">Natasha Cooper</font></strong></a> / Daphne Wright (I can't keep track of all her psedonyms) who always makes such an effort to help me by introducing me to journalists, other writers etc. She's not quite my fairy godmother, but she's not far off!</span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">Also in attendance was the <strong>mild</strong> mannered Simon Theakstone (he of <strong>bitter</strong> brewing fame - see how I cleverly worked in the title?) who greeted me with the rather wonderful line:</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"><em>"Ah! It's so rare to meet a young man drinking beer out of a glass",</em> nodding sagely, as if I had passed some sort of unspoken test.</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">It reminded me of that classic scene in <em>From Russia With Love</em> where Bond identifies the enemy agent by the way he orders red wine with fish.</span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">There's a lesson there for all of us. Drinking out of a bottle may well reveal you as a Smersh spy.</span>Batteries not Includedtag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-04-11:537324:BlogPost:457562007-04-11T09:30:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>There's no instruction manual on how to be a writer.</strong> No simple "how to" guide that you can turn to for help and guidance. Or if there is, no-one gave it to me.<br></br><br></br>I'm not talking about the writing part of being writer - the "doing", if you like. That's the easy part! Well maybe not easy, but at least once you've armed yourself with an idea, a computer and (most…</span>
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>There's no instruction manual on how to be a writer.</strong> No simple "how to" guide that you can turn to for help and guidance. Or if there is, no-one gave it to me.<br/><br/>I'm not talking about the writing part of being writer - the "doing", if you like. That's the easy part! Well maybe not easy, but at least once you've armed yourself with an idea, a computer and (most <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">elusive</span> of all) some spare time, you can turn to all sorts of creative writing courses or self-help books if you need guidance with annoying little details like plot, scene setting, characterisation or dialogue. In other words, the help is out there if you need it.<br/><br/>What I'm talking about is how to navigate the far more treacherous and uncharted waters of "being" a writer. The tips and tricks and dos and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">don'ts</span> essential to literary survival. When you first get going, for example, no-one tells you about copy editing, or six monthlies,</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">or (the lack of!) marketing budgets,</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">or in-store promotions,</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">or being ranged,</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">or how titles and covers have to get the thumbs up from the big buyers, even though these are all critical parts of the business. Instead, you're meant to pick all this up either through some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">alchemist</span>ic process of osmosis from other writers (who are mostly equally in the dark) or through a 'bright lights and thumbscrews' interrogation of your agent and publisher who, Wizard of Oz like, often seem strangely reluctant to lift the curtain on their Emerald Cities.<br/><br/>This is relevant because I am writing to you from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kitzbuhel</span> in Austria (what do you call a blog written while away? A flog (foreign blog) or a hog (holiday blog? Anyway...) where I have just fallen into one of these big <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">heffalump</span> traps that you're somehow meant to intuitively know about, but that you only really find out about once you've fallen a** over t** straight into it.<br/><br/>There should be a top ten of these. In fact, I think I'm going to give it some thought and come with a list. I'm not sure where this one would rank (quite high I expect) but I'll call it the <u>Foreign Bookshop Humiliation:</u><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">1. Go into Alpine bookshop where you are available both in an exported English edition and a local translation</span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">2. Ask, in a confident manner, if they do indeed have copy/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ies</span> of your book</span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">3. Experience the singular embarrassment of having the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">shopkeeper</span> repeat your name five times, clearly never having heard it before, and then adopting the same blank, slightly despairing gaze they would if you had just asked for a copy of Adolf Hitler's collected love poems </span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">4. On the way out see three (yes three) copies of <a href="http://www.alexbarclay.co.uk/"><strong><font color="#000000">Alex Barclay's</font></strong></a> (admittedly excellent) <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Darkhouse</span></span>, despite having the same publisher and the same editor</span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">5. Visit every other bookshop in town, including the one you saw at the motorway service station on the way in. Eventually find a copy being used to help prop up the latest <a href="http://www.kathyreichs.com/"><strong><font color="#000000">Kathy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Reichs</span></font></strong></a> (like she needs my help!)</span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">6. Buy it, in the hope they'll reorder and that your Tyrolean sales will show a small spike</span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Oh yes, I've been there! And in retrospect, I think there are three main strategies for avoiding this type of scenario:<br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">a) Before travelling, ring ahead a place a huge order for your own books with every bookshop in town so that when you get there the shelves are groaning, even if they all get returned a few weeks later<br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">b) Get whatever distribution deal Alex Barclay has<br/>c) Relax. Enjoy your <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">holiday</span>. <br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><br/>The preferred approach is of course either a) or b), maybe even both in combination. Going on holiday and not checking out every bookshop you come across, so that you can bitch and moan about how your book isn't on show but everyone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">else's</span> is, is just not an option for any self-respecting insecure writer. Maybe that's why there's no instruction manual - the only way to be happy is to stress about absolutely everything!<br/><br/>PS - The irony is that while away, I heard from J-Lo (my agent) that I'd got into the German bestseller list! Who needs the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Tyrol</span> when the Fatherland beckons ....</span>Slings and Arrowstag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-04-02:537324:BlogPost:457552007-04-02T09:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<p><font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>Writing can be a tough business.</strong><br></br><br></br></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">No, don't worry, I'm not looking for (or expecting) any sympathy, especially not from you lot!</span></font> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">But it does seem to be one of those professions where, perhaps a bit like acting or even running your own business, you have to endure…</span></font></p>
<p><font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong>Writing can be a tough business.</strong><br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">No, don't worry, I'm not looking for (or expecting) any sympathy, especially not from you lot!</span></font> <font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">But it does seem to be one of those professions where, perhaps a bit like acting or even running your own business, you have to endure these huge swings from real high to terrible low and (hopefully) back again. The clichéd expression typically deployed to describe this type of experience is that it is a "rollercoaster" but I'm not sure how appropriate that is - for a start it implies that it is in some way exciting and enjoyable when often the reverse is true! I see it more as an extended game of snakes and ladders.<br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Every so often something good happens which seems to propel you forward a few squares. Every so often you suffer a reverse which sends you back the other way. And of course luck, or the dice to stretch the analogy, plays a huge part in all of this. The important thing, perhaps, is not to get too distracted by these fluctuations in fortune and just focus on generally moving in the right direction and avoiding that really annoying snake that takes you all the way back down to the begining (which for some reason I always seem to land on more often than the ladder which takes me all the way to the top!)</span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Anyway, I mention all this because I landed on a small ladder yesterday which I wanted to celebrate for once (my normal insecure predisposition is to dwell on the setbacks). As part of an an interview with <a href="http://www.leechild.com/"><strong><font color="#000000">Lee Child</font></strong></a>,</span></font> <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">The Sunday Telegraph</font></strong></span></a><font size="1">, <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">no less, identified its six top thriller writers and I (to my surprise and pleasure) was one of them alongside</span></font> <a href="http://www.jamespatterson.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">James Patterson</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">,</font></span> <a href="http://www.tessgerritsen.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Tess Gerritsen</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">,</font></span> <a href="http://www.josephkanon.com/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Joseph Kanon</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">,</font></span> <a href="http://www.mohayder.net/intro.html"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">Mo Hayder</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">, and</font></span> <a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/features/traveler/"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">John Twelve Hawkes</font></strong></span></a><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><font size="1">. Now I have to admit that this article was published on April Fool's Day, but I think they were deadly serious. [in fact you can click</font> <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2007/04/01/svthrill01.xml&page=3"><strong><font color="#000000" size="1">here</font></strong></a> <font size="1">to read it if you don't believe me]</font></span> <br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RhjW6cQ_f4I/AAAAAAAAABc/pMjMgYlZWMI/s1600-h/Pamplona.jpg"><font size="1"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051023281604231042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RhjW6cQ_f4I/AAAAAAAAABc/pMjMgYlZWMI/s200/Pamplona.jpg" border="0" name="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051023281604231042"/></font></a><font size="1">Anyway, it's made my week, which only got better when I received through the post a traditional red scarf from the city of Pamplona in Spain worn during the annual Sanfermines festival (you know the one where tourists get gored to death</font><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RhjWUMQ_f2I/AAAAAAAAABM/qlVQDYR7bXI/s1600-h/Pamplona.jpg"></a> <font size="1">by bulls and everyone else cheers).<br/><br/></font></span><font size="1"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">It was sent to me by Carmen Jane de Carlos, who is officially my first fan in Spain! The biggest high, or ladder, or whatever you want to call it, of being a writer is hearing from readers from around the world who have enjoyed my books. But it's even better when they send gifts!<br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Thanks Carmen - next time a bull chases me at least I'll be dressed for the occasion.</span></font></p>Book 3 - Revealed!tag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-03-27:537324:BlogPost:457542007-03-27T09:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Finally, a bit of news about the third Tom Kirk Novel to share with you.<br></br><br></br>You'll be pleased to know it has a title! Months of heated negotations with Bruce, my editor, (that's not his real name but it seems more appropriate for a thriller editor than his actual one!) have led us to The Gilded Seal. My original suggestion was The Napoleon Seal, but Harper Collins were worried that this would make it seem too historical?? Not sure I…</span>
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Finally, a bit of news about the third Tom Kirk Novel to share with you.<br/><br/>You'll be pleased to know it has a title! Months of heated negotations with Bruce, my editor, (that's not his real name but it seems more appropriate for a thriller editor than his actual one!) have led us to The Gilded Seal. My original suggestion was The Napoleon Seal, but Harper Collins were worried that this would make it seem too historical?? Not sure I totally agree, but then this is not exactly a million miles away.<br/><br/>This whole title choosing business is bloody tricky. The Double Eagle was easy, but for The Black Sun, I had to submit about forty different alternatives in the end as Harper's sales and marketing gurus couldn't agree about what worked. A good title is, apparently, half the battle. The irony was that The Black Sun was initially rejected, so I simply resubmitted it as a new idea and second time round they loved it. Go figure! Anyway, I'm happy with The Gilded Seal, Bruce is happy, J-Lo (my agent) is happy and most importantly, my mother likes it!<br/><br/>The other half of the battle (beyond the title) is of course the jacket design. And here it is:<br/><br/><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RgqT-aC7ISI/AAAAAAAAAA4/CxK5JUSgs7Y/s1600-h/Gilded-Seal-Cover.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047009032774820130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: auto" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RgqT-aC7ISI/AAAAAAAAAA4/CxK5JUSgs7Y/s320/Gilded-Seal-Cover.jpg" border="0" name="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047009032774820130"/></a></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">The image is a bit blurred here, but I've seen the proper printouts and it looks fantastic. As to what the book's about, well as the cover suggests, it involves Napoleon, the Louvre and the world's most famous painting. I could tell you more, but don't want to give too much away, so here's what the blurb from the back says:<br/><br/><em>"Seville. Holy Week.</em></span></span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><em>As hooded penitents march their shimmering floats through the cobbled streets, a man runs for his life, determined to keep a secret that has lain hidden for 200 years. When the end finally comes it is slow and agonizing, his attackers crucifying him to a door.<br/><br/></em></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><em>Determined to avenge his friend’s death, former art thief Tom Kirk abandons his enquiry into the theft of a priceless Da Vinci and begins his own investigation into the gruesome murder. The evidence points to Milo, an old rival with a sadistic streak whom Tom discovers is about to commit the most audacious heist in history.<br/><br/>Meanwhile in New York , the stakes have never been higher for Special Agent Jennifer Browne, as her supposedly low-key forgery case threatens to explode into a scandal that strikes at the heart of the global auction business. With the bodies piling up around her and an unscrupulous tabloid reporter dogging her every move, she follows a lead to Paris, where a chance meeting brings her face to face with Tom.<br/><br/>Realising that both cases are connected, Tom and Jennifer find themselves swept into a conspiracy that dates back to Napoleon and survives in a series of coded messages concealed by the Emperor himself. Messages leading to a secret so shattering that some are prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure the truth is never revealed. A secret that lies deep inside the Paris catacombs and amidst the pulsating streets of Havana.<br/><br/>A secret that brings death in its wake."<br/><br/></em>What do you think? I can't wait to see it on the shelves (not until October I'm afraid) and hearing from you.</span></span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%">Mind you, at the moment publication seems a distant prospect - I'm immersed in full (painful) editing mode. Which reminds me, I need to get on and do some work. The final version needs to be handed in by the end of the month or I'll have Bruce all over me - and believe me, that's the one place you don't want him!</span></span>Plastic Fantastictag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-03-03:537324:BlogPost:457532007-03-03T10:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<p><font size="2"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">I remember reading an interview with JK Rowling a few years ago where she was talking about the merchandising deal she had struck with Warner Bros. Basically, she had insisted of final approval of any Harry Potter products released alongside the movies. To her growing unease, as the release date of the first film loomed, a succession of increasingly tacky items had been sent for her blessing. Eventually, and some…</span></span></font></p>
<p><font size="2"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">I remember reading an interview with JK Rowling a few years ago where she was talking about the merchandising deal she had struck with Warner Bros. Basically, she had insisted of final approval of any Harry Potter products released alongside the movies. To her growing unease, as the release date of the first film loomed, a succession of increasingly tacky items had been sent for her blessing. Eventually, and some might say not unreasonably, she drew the line at a Harry Potter loo seat.<br/></span><br/><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RgqTJaC7IQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Pjy2L9biixc/s1600-h/luebbe_bag.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047008122241753346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mTkOGgT5nLo/RgqTJaC7IQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Pjy2L9biixc/s200/luebbe_bag.jpg" border="0" name="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047008122241753346"/></a>I mention all this not because Paramount are about to flood the market with Double Eagle chocolate coins, but because I received the item pictured on the left through the post the other day.</span></span><br/><br/><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">In case you're wondering, it's a plastic bag advertising the German edition of The Double Eagle which is due to be published by Luebbe this month. God knows what it says though. Hopefully something along the lines of <em>good book, buy it</em> or I'll have to have words. I'm just grateful they didn't opt for the</span> <span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Tom Kirk toilet paper instead!</span></span></font></p>
<p> </p>Shark Finn Souptag:crimespace.ning.com,2007-02-09:537324:BlogPost:457522007-02-09T10:00:00.000ZJames Twininghttps://crimespace.ning.com/profile/jamestwining
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Doesn't junk mail make you feel inadequate? Constant offers to grow your penis "so she'll be begging for more" and loud emails mocking you for not having jumped on yesterday's soaring boiler-room stock, leave you with a crushing sense of being either under-equipped or under-funded. Or both.<br></br><br></br>But not all unsolicited mail is unwelcome. Take this, that I received a few weeks ago:…<br></br><br></br></span>
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Doesn't junk mail make you feel inadequate? Constant offers to grow your penis "so she'll be begging for more" and loud emails mocking you for not having jumped on yesterday's soaring boiler-room stock, leave you with a crushing sense of being either under-equipped or under-funded. Or both.<br/><br/>But not all unsolicited mail is unwelcome. Take this, that I received a few weeks ago:<br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: verdana"><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%"><em>"Dear James. My name is X and I'm 16 years old girls from Finland.</em> <em>Just wanted to write and let you know what a fan of yours that I am. I really enjoy your work and you really inspirate me as a writer. I just read one of your novel and I love it! I could not stop reading it. You're really are my model! I would like to be like you someday, absolutely fabulous author. I was wondering if you could send me an autographed photo? My address is below."</em><br/><br/>How good is that? On so many levels? Go on, read it again. God knows I did. She wants an autographed photo. Of me. I "inspirate" her as a writer. I am her "model." I am an "absolutely fabulous author." Result.<br/><br/>I played it cool, of course, waiting a few days before answering to give the impression that I was inundated with emails from similarly smitten readers. But rest assured that I wasted no time in telling as many of my mates as possible, heavily emphasising the words "16 years old Finnish girl", of course. And o</span></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">ne of them came up with a worryingly (given he has just got married) brilliant suggestion: <em>"Why not Google her? She could be hot!"</em> Genius.<br/><br/>So I did. And guess what? I got two hits, each on other authors' message boards. A coincidence, I assumed, until I clicked on the first one, posted to a female writer, and began to read the message that my Scandinavian admirer had left her:</span> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">"<em>Dear X. My name is X and I'm 16 years old girls from Finland ..."</em> I think you know the rest.<br/><br/></span><span style="FONT-SIZE: 85%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana">Needless to say, I have spared my friends this hubristic revelation. No point in shattering their illusions as well as mine. The lesson seems to be that when something seems to be too good to be true, it usually is.<br/><br/>Now where did I file that email guaranteeing to add 3 inches to my ...</span>