Book Two of Trobairitz is due for publication. Her real name is Fleur but she prefers the nickname Weed. In Book One, Trobairitz the Storyteller, readers learn how she came by that nickname and why she still prefers to use it. At the overnight truck stop near Béziers in southern France, a group of drivers become used to her regular visits as she returns from her delivery runs into Spain. They’ve encouraged her to open up a little more and they return each week to hear more of the stories she tells.
Their favourite character is Madame Catherine Joubert, the 76 year old former sex worker who owns the best house in the village and has some sort of hold over the young mayor.
A landslide at Christmas sees Weed working alongside Jimi in the rescue mission but any further development of a relationship between them is interrupted.
Trobairitz the Storyteller – Book One with its new cover
Book Two is here at last
It’s been a long time in the making. There are several reasons for that.
Hiraeth – Hiraeth, commonly is translated as “homesickness” but it is more than that. It means a deep sense of longing, a yearning for that which has past, a sense of homesickness tinged with grief or sorrow over the lost or departed. I couldn’t bring myself to continue writing novels set in the place I had lost. It was too painful. I needed time to heal myself. I did that by writing about what had happened. I published People Who Hurt, my only non fiction book.
my only nonfiction book
Writing the truth brought its own pain as I relived what I had allowed to happen. It was then time to move on. Still, I couldn’t visualise my setting in Languedoc, now Occitanie, without wishing I was there. So, in 2017 I wrote and published a different novel, The Sandman and Mrs Carter, a psychological mystery set in Wiltshire and a second collection of short stories, Queer as Folk.
a psychological mystery
In 2021 I published a further completely different novel, set in Norfolk where I now live, A Measured Man. Poignantly humorous, A Measured Man is a not-so-romantic comedy.
Aubrey Tennant, a bachelor in his fifties is still looking for his ideal woman
Launch date: November Twelfth
It’s a great feeling knowing how far I’ve come. I still have CRPS and on high pain days I can’t write anything at all. But now the emotional pain has gone. I don’t grieve for the place I lost. I can think of it and remember the places I loved with warmth in my heart instead of deep yearning.
This second volume follows on immediately from the first so even though it could stand alone I strongly recommend reading book one first. Book Two brings further conflict and, in Montalhan sans Vents, new characters cause drama, scandal, a wedding and a funeral.
There might even be a hint of romance if only Jimi didn’t annoy her so much.
Here she is. Preorder for the ebook is available now. Paperback is also available on the twelfth November.
It’s easy to get nostalgic about going on holidays when you can’t go away. I watch the Covid news and sigh. At the moment in the UK we have a traffic light system showing which countries are considered safe for travellers but none of them are where I’d like to go. Actually, I wouldn’t go anywhere this year but I will plan something for next year.
My mother was a great one for planning holidays and I have years of holiday memories to make me smile. Some of them are a long time ago. When I was a child in the 1950s most people I knew didn’t expect to go very far. You could book a coach trip for a day at the seaside and a whole week in a boarding house at the coast was a real treat.
On Mother Kelly’s Doorstep
I’m the lucky kid in the middle in possession of the bubbles. I look to be about five or six years old and, although I can’t remember exactly, it may have been our first holiday away from home – all the way from West Yorkshire to Morecambe!
When I was a little older we ventured further and in Cornwall I learned to swim. No chance to swim in the picture below on a day trip to Blackpool.
Day-trip paddling
Saving for the yearly holiday
The annual summer holiday came during what was called the Feast Weeks – the last week in July and the first in August when all the mills and factories used to shut up shop. Coaches and trains were full of Keighley folk setting off for the much longed-for break from work for which they’d saved the whole year. But my mother, bless her, had got the travel bug and wanted to see other countries.
Each winter she took me to see travel films in the co-op hall. She pronounced it ‘kworpall’ as if it was all one word. That darkened room up the stairs in a building somewhere along Hanover Street is where I caught the bug myself.
Yes folks, that’s what the streets and cars looked like when I was a girl. The dairy chimney and all those old buildings are long gone but I’ll never forget the fascinating films of far-flung places I saw in the ‘Kworpall’.
photo by Keighley News
Holidays to plan for
Our first holiday abroad was to Belgium. I think it would have been all my mother could afford. We booked through Althams, a local travel agent and I remember her feeling proud that we were flying for the first time.
The coach took us to Lydd (Ferryfield) airport in Kent for our short flight to Ostend. This is the kind of aircraft we flew on. I thought it was enormous and wondered how it would ever get into the air. The cabin windows were tiny portholes and the seats were leather with a damp smell. The ride was cramped and uncomfortable and it put my mother off flying for the next 25 years. Watch the video – it’s only a minute long. You might have to turn up the volume. This old film will make you laugh but it makes me realise how brave and forward thinking my late mother was. This first flight to Ostend was the beginning of many more foreign holidays – but all by train.
I bet she worried about the flight home but you wouldn’t think so in this photo from an excursion to a beer cellar.
A night out in a beer cellar
For our souvenirs that year we bought tiny Delft ceramic clogs and clockwork dancing dolls in national costume.
Viva España
The following winter back we went to the ‘Kworpall’ to see more films of enticing holiday destinations. My mother researched at the library and went to the travel agents to find ways to travel avoiding flying. In the meantime, we had staycations in Cornwall and Wales.
In June, 1960 the UK government signed a treaty with Spain to abolish the visa requirement and the very next summer I was twelve years old when my mother first took me to Spain.
The overnight train through France was exciting and my first experience of Spain was mesmerising. Civil guards were everywhere watching everything. Bikinis were banned. Public displays of affection were not allowed. Mum and I saw young Spanish couples walking together, not touching, chaperoned by two elder females following close behind.
I loved the small fishing villages with their ancient streets and buildings with balconies. I loved the mountains and the sea. And the music. Oh, the music. On a special excursion we saw the celebrated flamenco dancer Carmen Amaya. It must have been one of her last tours as she was already ill. The passion in the music and dance enthralled me. Flamenco guitars tugged at my young heart as the floorboards vibrated under her feet. Next day my mother bought me a pair of castanets and I remember the hotel staff encouraging me to learn. (I still have those castanets but my fingers are not so flexible now)
How memories get into fiction
I feel privileged to have seen the ‘old’ Spain. Unfortunately I don’t have any photographs of my teenage holidays abroad. Mother had developed an interest in photography and bought a good camera so she could have her pictures developed as slides. I don’t have any of them but I have so many vivid memories I could write a whole book.
My memories of people and places do sometimes find their way into my fiction. In Patterns of Our Lives, I first used my childhood home town as the setting and called it Kingsley. You can click on the link to read a sample.
In my most recent novel, A Measured Man, I’ve used places I know well here in Norfolk.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this short read. I enjoyed re-living holidays past. Please visit my author page on Amazon and use the ‘Look inside’ feature to read samples of all my work. I love to hear from my readers.
How to describe it? I can tell you what it isn’t. The book doesn’t fit the RomCom genre. Although there are elements of comedy within its themes, A Measured Man’s humour is poignant. Sometimes it’s painful, at times exasperating. Aubrey Tennant is a complex character as you’d expect from my novels. I placed it in the contemporary literary fiction category because that seemed to be the best fit.
At the heart of the book is the unusual relationship between Aubrey Tennant and Lisa Miller. It isn’t so much a slow burner: it’s a slow realisation of what they both want for the rest of their lives.
Who is the Measured Man?
Aubrey Tennant is a bachelor in his fifties who is still looking for his ideal woman. The trouble is, he has exacting requirements. He relies on rehearsed questions to extract from potential candidates what he needs to know. When he meets Lisa Miller on his annual trip to Torquay he doesn’t know she’s already buried two husbands.
A Measured Man advert on Facebook
Promoting A Measured Man
As a self-published author I try to put as much effort into self promotion as I’m able. Sometimes the #CRPS gets in the way and I have to rest but I’m still learning how to get my message out to potential readers.
The first thing I did to find early feedback on A Measured Man was contact a local neighbourhood group to offer freebies pre-publication. This has brought me some valuable contacts and a ready-made email list for other books.
I’ve gone back to Goodreads and made sure all my books stop linking to Amazon France.
I’ve found out how I can share designs I create on Canva with Twitter and Instagram. I love Canva. I know it isn’t oriented especially for authors as is Bookbrush but I find Canva easy to understand and use.
I’ve learned how to use Facebook adverts so that I can redirect people who click on the link to my author page on Amazon where all my books are listed.
I’m also experimenting with three of my books on Kobo, an alternative ebook reader to see if I can find an audience there.
Where to get your copy
You can order in the UK on the link that appears here.
People told me a Blog Tour was a good way to go. As a #CRPS sufferer my energies are limited and I can’t always keep up with social media. But I want more people to find my books. I’ve had some fabulous reviews but not enough. I tried making my own ‘advert’ designs. Here’s one.
home-made advert
I posted this and other images with slightly different wording on several sites including local, regional, national and international social media.
I need to find the ‘right’ readers
You can’t expect to please everybody. There are some very highly rated books and authors that don’t appeal to me at all. That’s okay. It works the other way too. If you’re looking for a straightforward story with a beginning, a middle and an end, you probably won’t get into my books. I love reading multi-layered stories so it’s no surprise they’re the ones I enjoy writing.
Dual narrative? Yes, please. Complex relationships? Of course. Creative narrative scheme? You betcha.
I chose a highly respected Blog Tour organiser and I got lucky. She took me on.
Blog Tour schedule
Book Blog Tour Reviewers
Overall I was pleased with the results. Some book bloggers put in a huge amount of time and effort and it shows in the quality of their reviews. I don’t mean they throw 5 Star ratings at you. I mean they really read your book. Their comments demonstrate they’ve gone deeply into the themes of your work and can write about how certain aspects of the book affected them.
A minority of reviewers gave me the impression they hadn’t had time to read it properly. One paraphrased my own book description; one copied a short sample from the first chapter which was much less than you can read on the ‘Look inside’ feature on Amazon.
But, the majority of Book Bloggers do a fantastic job. There’s no payment involved. They do it for the love of books and reading. I take my hat off to them. Their input is invaluable in helping to promote books by indie authors like myself.
Going wide
I decided to take Weed out into different roads. Currently she’s on Kobo but nobody seems to notice. I’m considering Google Play and Apple Books as well as other online presences for the ebook versions. Time will tell.
A fantastic review
Here are some snippets from one of the latest reviews from a Blogger who regularly reviews top-selling books from traditional publishers. On Goodreads she said Trobairitz is ‘phenomenal’.
This book is a remarkable and resplendent read and you won’t be able to stop reading until you finish it…I couldn’t! I will offer no apologies that my review will be filled with superlatives about how stupendous this book is! The book details alone set my bookophile senses tingling and oh my goodness…what a treat you have instore!
Of my characters she says they are: all with captivating stories of their own but each of which intertwines with the others, stories within stories, within stories, it is mesmeric in structure.
She continues: Celia is the doyen of tangible description and I was (and still am) entranced.And just as you are completely spellbound by these tales…we are transported back to Weed’s life. And her life journey is equally as irresistible and intriguing as the stories she weaves. She is not merely a long haul trucker; Weed has a past and trials of her own; her flawed relationship with Fabien; her wonderful friendship with Irish ex-pats Quentin and Rose; her loving and vibrant adopted family…that span the magnificence of France, Spain and Italy. Weed’s own story is every bit as engaging! And yes, I am being purposefully vague about the specifics because you need to experience their discovery for yourselves!
In her summing up she says, Having only recently finished reading this book, I am besotted, beguiled and enamoured with the stories and charismatic characters this novel contains.
In the pipeline
So, what next? I’ve had more requests for the sequel to Trobairitz the Storyteller. Regular followers will know the circumstances which led to my having to leave my home abroad. For a long time I wasn’t able to think of the place I came to love without sadness. It would have been unbearable to write about it. I wrote other books instead.
But Weed and Jimi, Fabian, Quentin and Rose as well as Madame Catherine Joubert and her feud with the Noilly family live on in my thinking. Their continued story is next on my to-do list. They all still have so much to tell.
Here’s a link to book one of Trobairitz the Storyteller. I’d better get on with the sequel. Please add your details to the form for news about my books. Your email remains private. Thank you for reading.
My ‘Covid World’ experience has been bugging me since February. I haven’t been able to organise my thinking or my writing for quite some time now. As a result, my work-in-progress, A Measured Man isn’t as close to The End as it should be. That isn’t because I don’t know the plot. I know it very well. But, actually writing it has been beyond me.
Instead, I’ve been on a mission to bake the perfect loaf of bread, grow the juiciest fruit and vegetables and keep my dahlias pristinely dead-headed and voluptuous.
Lockdown loaf
I’ve needed physical occupation. Even though my CRPS (Complex Regional Pain Syndrome) lays me low some days I’ve wanted to be doing something as long as it didn’t involve too much thinking. CRPS affects my immune system. Neurological pain wears you out and inflames your entire nervous system. I usually catch everything that’s doing the rounds so at the outset of this new virus I knew I’d have to be careful. It proved impossible to settle though, to work at my next novel. I wasn’t able to sit still. Beating up a lump of dough and slicing green beans or hacking off wilted flower heads replaced my normal daily activities. I think it’s because I’ve been angry.
beating up a lump of dough
Why I’ve been angry
I don’t want to get too political. As a writer of fiction it isn’t appropriate and I wouldn’t want to alienate potential readers. My characters can have strongly-held views: Celia Micklefield, the author very rarely comments but as myself I can’t help wondering what happened to common sense last winter. Viruses don’t travel by themselves: they need a host. People carry them. So why didn’t we stop people travelling way back in February to give us more time to prepare for the inevitable? We were completely without the means or even a decent plan to cope with such an emergency even though a 2016 exercise had pointed out the risks and pitfalls. So, we fell into the pit and panicked.
falling into the pit
Shielding
I began ‘shielding’ long before the instruction. Similarly, the local care home went into lockdown and banned visiting. They already had their own stock of PPE. They refused to take in anyone from hospital even though they’d been instructed to do so. Their staff don’t use public transport because there isn’t any to reach many of our villages. We’ve been lucky being quite isolated here in Norfolk. We recorded a relatively low number of casualties in the population and in care homes but we expect the recent influx of holiday makers will change all that.
The best and the worst?
It seems the current pandemic has brought out the best and worst of humanity. Some thought their holiday was more important than the risk of spreading disease. Many chose to ignore guidelines and did as they pleased. Yet there have been stories of amazing selflessness and goodwill. People were more patient in the supermarket, even in the car park. Our two local pubs organised food parcel deliveries for folk who had to stay at home. Eventually my partner and I were allowed to visit his mother at the care home where we sat, appropriately distanced and wearing masks in the garden marquee. We worry what will happen when the money from the sale of her house runs out. It still winds me up that single people (her husband died two years ago) diagnosed with any form of dementia have to sell their home to pay for their care. Imagine if cancer patients were treated the same -or any other chronic condition? Surely there’d be a revolution.
Revolutionary thoughts?
Maybe that’s what we need: a revolution. Not in the violent battle sense but in our values and attitudes. I’m reminded of what the anthropologist, Margaret Mead said about the earliest signs of civilisation in ancient cultures. Her students expected her to name things like cooking pots, fishing hooks and simple tools. Instead she explained how skeletal evidence of a broken femur which had then healed was the first sign of civilisation. Animals who break a leg do not survive long enough in the wild for the bone to heal. They can’t run from danger or hunt for food and drink. A healed human femur shows that somebody else stayed with the person who was in difficulty, helped them to safety and tended them until they were well again. Have some of us forgotten that it’s in our genes to be compassionate and offer kindness to others?
I grieve for society. In a speech in 1977 U.S. Vice President Hubert Humphrey said the following:
“The moral test of government is how that government treats those who are in the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the elderly; those who are in the shadows of life; the sick, the needy and the handicapped.”
What next?
I believe this year has shown us just how broken we are. We cannot continue to build our world systems of government based on a need for continuing economic growth that mostly benefits those already rich. How can we keep on building luxury apartments when there are so many without any home at all? Why are we still buying products wrapped in plastic? Why do so many people always want the latest upgrade of everything? I haven’t even mentioned climate change. That’s an even bigger catastrophe waiting to happen.
Sociologists say it takes 50 years to change people’s attitudes. If that’s the case I won’t be alive to see the changes I’d wish for but maybe I’ve witnessed the beginning of it. Hooray for the young people who successfully forced the U-turn on the ridiculous algorithm designed to give students results for an exam they didn’t have the opportunity to sit. Three cheers for the shoppers in my local supermarket who refuse to use the self-scan machines because somebody lost the chance of a job at an extra cash out. Good for you if you didn’t buy any clothes you didn’t really need this year.
See? I told you I was angry. People I thought I knew well have shocked me with their selfishness. People in the public eye have stunned me with their incompetence. There now, I’ve got it off my chest. Maybe I can get back to novel writing soon. In the meantime I must concentrate on the positives of my personal Covid year: I bake loaves of bread I can be proud of and my dahlias are show-stoppers.
Dahlias and Delphiniums – English cottage favourites
Is there anything you can feel proud of doing/making/creating during this Covid pandemic?
Join me on my Facebook author page or leave a comment here. I’d love to hear from you.
harmonize, integrate, synthesise, unify, put together – or, as is appropriate right now- PULL together.
We’re having to do all these things during these weeks of Covid 19 lockdown. It’s important we’re all attempting to orchestrate our recovery from this horrible virus that’s infecting the world. Although we might have to do our bit in isolation from others you could say we’re a bit like cogs in a wheel. We have to pull together to make the whole thing work.
Stay at Home
how we can help
I’ve just completed week four of staying at home. Yes, I get bored. I get worried too. It doesn’t do you any good, though, to whinge or moan. It only makes you feel worse. I try to concentrate on how lucky I am to have a home in which to self-isolate and a garden where I can watch our Norfolk wildlife.
Can I orchestrate my thoughts?
If I could get my head in the right place I’d be completing my seventh book (fourth novel) but instead I’ve been finding other things to do. It’s as if I have to move my whole body – sitting still to create is out of reach just now. I joined the WordPress daily prompt initiative in the hopes I could settle into writing again. Writing short posts like this one is the limit of my ability just now. So I garden. I cook new recipes. Bake cakes and bread when there’s flour in the supermarket. I take a short walk and watch the Downing Street briefing at 5pm every day to see what the latest developments are. I’m trying to put structure into my life of confinement.
Harmony out of chaos
We don’t know how long these restrictions will continue. I’m in an ‘at risk’ group as I’m older and because of CRPS. I suppose when we reach the point where restrictions are lifted a little, I’ll have to wait longer.
hoping for harmony
But, surely, we’ll get there. In the meantime I have to content myself with the knowledge I’m doing the best I can.
Some say the word April comes from the Latin ‘aperire’ – to open. In the old Roman calendar April was the second month of the year, a hopeful time with new beginnings and new life springing up all over the place.
Oh, to be in England now that April’s here . . .
But it’s hard to keep hopeful. England is in crisis due to Covid19. No walking in the park beneath cherry blossom for us this year. Got to keep our distance from other people. We can’t visit family and friends for Easter. Shops are closed and streets are empty. Beaches and country parks are deserted . Cities look like ghost towns.
Self isolation – no joke
I’m in week three of my self-isolation having begun it a week before the government said I should. Social distancing they’re calling it – to help stop the spread of the virus.
from Daily Express
I haven’t been able to sit still. This is the first time I’ve taken to my desktop to write anything. In between cleaning, laundry, gardening, batch-cooking etc. etc. I’ve shared a few posts on Facebook and savoured a cuppa while reading others’ humorous memes connected to this horrible pandemic and I’ve enjoyed the joke. Here’s a couple of my favourites. I’d like to give credit but I can’t find the originals now. Apologies to the creative souls who put them together.
humour in disaster?
Wouldn’t we feel safer if he was in charge? At times like this we really feel the need to have confidence in our leaders. Disaster films are one thing but this is FOR REAL. Here in the UK we’re building up to a massive demand for answers to our questions. But let’s get on with what we have to do now to play our part in our country’s eventual recovery. Then we must find and pay for ways to ensure the future is safer for our children and grandchildren.
Dark humour is appropriate right now. I like the following quip too which I saw the other day.
Covid quarantine
The enforced ‘stay at home’ opens up cracks in the most stable of relationships and families. Maybe an April joke will help get you through.
Older readers are beginning to have their message heard but I hope the folks in the picture above are in a book club. I can’t think of any other reason why you’d sit around a table sharing favourite gems from fiction you’ve enjoyed with such a wide grin on your face.
Correction. I can actually imagine several reasons. Here’s one:
Maybe the book is erotica and, instead of reminiscing about the days when they could complete the sexual gymnastics described in Chapter Five, they’ve all decided to slip upstairs at the nursing home, swap rooms and give it a go.
Sorry, I get sarcastic when the subject of older readers comes up. Thankfully since my last post on the subject: Gran Lit. Are you serious? there’s been a shift in publishers’ thinking. I’m not claiming any credit for that. I’m just one of many voices including the knowledgeable and experienced members of the Books for Older Readers Facebook page. Here’s a link BFOR. There’s a website too www.booksforolderreaders.co.uk established in October 2017 to promote books (mainly fiction) with older protagonists or themes which tend to appeal to readers in mid-life or beyond.
Older readers. Do they count?
Stephen King reading Lee Child
They surely do. There are a lot of us. And publishers are taking notice. I’m glad it’s happening but it depends on how you define old. In a current competition from Harper Collins HQ division authors over 40 yrs. old are invited to submit unpublished work where the main character is also over 40. Over 40? They call that OLD? Heavens to Betsy, they still haven’t got it right.
Look here, you publishers. 18% of the UK population is OVER 65. In 2019 the total population is estimated at 66, 937,197 so roughly 11 and a half million of us fit this older reader bracket. If you want to count older as being from age 40 you’re looking at a much higher number.
Older readers. Where are they?
Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside
According to a 2019 survey the top ten towns and cities where the average age of the population is over 40 are as follows alphabetically: Barnsley, Birkenhead, Blackpool, Bournemouth, Mansfield, Southend-on-Sea, Sunderland, Swansea, Wakefield and Worthing. At an average age of just over 43, Blackpool is the place with the largest percentage of older people.
Now, let me tell you, people DO NOT go to Blackpool for a quiet spell of rest and relaxation. I believe it’s reasonable to say that Blackpool still ranks as the UK’s number one getaway for a dirty weekend. It has night clubs and casinos, break-your-neck rides at the Pleasure Beach and, let’s not forget, Blackpool Tower where all the hip-swivelling contestants aim to be in Strictly Come Dancing every year. Cruise the bars along the promenade this summer and I bet you it ain’t spring chickens under those kiss-me-quick hats.
Older readers. What do they read?
If you Google what do older people read? here’s what you get.
Are older readers anxious?
It’s interesting that once you add the word older, the algorithms assume you’re looking for support with ageing problems. I found Reading interests and needs of older people – based on a survey dated 1973. There doesn’t seem to be anything more recent.
In a section called ‘Books older people can read’ the Age UK website recommends A Spool of Blue Thread by Anne Tyler, one of my favourite authors. I approve of their choice but not of their title. What do they mean by ‘Can‘ read? Are they saying we can’t read books by younger writers?
In a 2012 study the university of Leicester asked why older people struggle to read fine print. They came to the conclusion that older people struggle with fine detail and prefer slightly blurred text????
I really don’t get the blurred thing. Larger print – yes. But blurred?
And so to Amazon. Dearie me. If you search the great Zon for books for the elderly they’ll suggest colouring books. Lots of fine details in those things, folks. If you search books for older readers Amazon assumes you mean older children and up pops Horrid Henry. If you search books with older characters Amazon can’t cope. It gets completely confused and offers Peppa Pig.
According to the website Next Avenue-where grown-ups keep growing older readers(female) still want to read romance and, apparently, there’s a growing demand from Boomers for erotica ebooks. I imagine they wouldn’t want the paperback hanging around the house for all to see but Next Avenue’s findings lend some validation to my imagined scenario in the nursing home. Cheesy grin.
Older readers. So what do they want?
from oubebreaker
I posted the following questions on my Celia Micklefield FB author page. I also made a nuisance of myself asking friends and members of local groups I belong to.
Have your reading tastes changed since you were young?
Does it matter that there isn’t a genre for older readers?
Some said their tastes had broadened and they now read the kinds of books that didn’t interest them when they were younger. Non fiction and self-help books featured in this wider taste. However, they still read what they have always enjoyed be it, crime, mystery, horror, sic-fi, fantasy etc. They didn’t think growing older had had any effect on their choices.
Some older readers said they enjoyed re-reading classics and old favourites. This got me thinking and, yes, I would love to read The Thornbirds again.
Almost all reported they didn’t think it necessary to have a separate genre for older readers. They can decide if a book is right for their taste by the blurb, they said, or by recommendation from friends. They feel they already have enough reminders they’re getting on in years without there being special bookshelves for older readers.
So it looks like we’re back to choosing by genre what you read whatever your age.
Choosing by genre
what’s your fancy?
I’ve always had a problem with genre. I enjoy reading books with multiple threads, time slips so you can discover what happened in a character’s past especially when they don’t know it themselves, a strong plot and settings that make you feel you’re walking the streets in the book’s backdrop. Realistic dialogue appropriate for each character is a must and I don’t care if it’s English or U.S. spelling as long as it’s right for the mood and setting. I particularly enjoy characters with problems to solve. Throw in a hint of mystery and I’m on Chapter Three already!
You can find all of the above in a Saga, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Crime, Romance etc. etc. So, for me at least, genre is not the number one factor affecting my choice of book to read. If the first few paragraphs draw me in I’m reaching for my bank card.
The purpose of books?
I love books that make me think
I’m 70 now. Jeez, how did that happen? I don’t live in any of the Top Ten older population towns but in my corner of Norfolk near the east coast of England, I bet we’d make the Top Twenty. I don’t subscribe to the apparent interest in erotica but I did read 50 Shades out of curiosity. After a very short time my practical/dark humour head switched into gear and I wondered where you could possibly find a twenty-one year old virgin these days. Moreover, how she could walk and sit down comfortably after such frequent ravaging for her first sexual encounters beggars belief.
But, what do I know? I’m not a huge best-seller like Erika Leonard. She’s 56, you know. I wonder if she’s been to Blackpool?
The purpose of the books I choose will vary according to how I’m feeling and what my current needs are:escapism, entertainment, wanderlust, educational and so on. Sometimes all I want is an easy read I can pick up and put down as and when. At other times I want to devote my whole day to another author’s creation. That’s the underpinning need for variety in my nature, something that hasn’t changed since I learned to read.
My fiction for older readers
As I love reading a wide variety of kinds of novels I suppose it’s no surprise I enjoy writing them too. All my work is suitable for the older reader and not necessarily just for women.
Arse(d) Ends, inspired by words ending in the letters a.r.s.e. and Queer as Folk are collections of short (and not so short) stories, some darkly humorous, some outright quirky. They’ll make you smile or shiver!
Patterns of Our Lives is a saga from 1935 to 2009. Family secrets from World War Two surface generations later. You might need a box of tissues with this one.
Trobairitz the Storyteller is general/literary fiction set in southern France where I used to live. With hints of mystery and romance my contemporary female troubadour entertains long haul drivers at an overnight truck stop by telling them a story.
The Sandman and Mrs Carter is a psychological mystery/drama. Mrs Wendy Carter never speaks for herself. Five characters tell her story from their point of view. There’s a mystery voice too, partly revealed at the end leaving readers with some thinking to do.
Non-fiction
I should mention People Who Hurt too. It’s my only non-fiction title. Being an older woman didn’t protect me from getting into a toxic relationship when I was in my fifties. People Who Hurt is part memoir and part informational. I know it’s helped others and I’m happy to offer it free on KU. Here’s a link if you’d like to read a sample.
All my books feature older characters with problems to solve. Here’s a link to my Amazon author page
You can also find my work in the English language sections across Europe and beyond.
If you’re an older reader and would like to share your thoughts take a look at the BFOR Facebook page.
see you on Facebook!
Many thanks to Books For Older Readers for allowing me this slot on their Blog Blitz this month. Don’t forget to subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like news of upcoming offers. Leave a few words in the comments box too. I love to hear from other readers/authors.
Writer’s block must be the thing holding me back. Lately, I’m not satisfied with anything I write. I rewrite opening chapters or compose entirely new openings. If possible I switch chapters around. I introduce new and sparkly secondary characters. And I still don’t like what I’ve written.
I’m suffering
I’ve hit the suffering button so many times I don’t where I am or which way is up.
My voice has changed
I’m talking about the writer’s voice, the thing that identifies the book as essentially oneself, the trademark of the writer’s voice. You know how you can have an educated guess at which artist produced a painting just by the use of colours and style of brushstrokes even if you’ve never seen that picture before?
It’s a similar thing with a writer’s voice. Readers become used to the style, the tone, the way an author chooses what to describe and what to leave to your imagination. It’s the spirit of the book, the magic to entice you. Dammit all, without it you haven’t got a viable novel to sell.
I miss my comfortable shoes!
Displacement activities
I’ve been filling my time doing other things. Gardening. Painting. Reading. Planning trips abroad.
no inspiration here
A week of winter sun in the Canaries should surely help inspire me but instead I caught another cold, the third in as many months. I joined a gym intending to use the pool regularly. I thought if I built up my physical fitness the brain synapses would follow suit but something always came up to prevent me going on the afternoons when the pool isn’t being used by Aquafit classes or school groups.
And now it’s April. Good grief. Where has the time gone? I MUST finish A Measured Man. Poor Aubrey Tennant, (no connection with anybody I have ever known) has been waiting so long. I like him, really I do. He’s such an odd character and he can’t help the way he is. I blame his mother and all the secrets she kept from him. There’s no wonder he’s never learned how to treat a woman.
Theresa Miller, on the other hand, is causing me problems. I think I might have to change her first name what with all the Brexit stuff going on just now.
Help is at hand
I had a big birthday in January, one of those with a big, fat zero at the end. I know people say age is just a number but this is a number I’m not fond of. But my daughter found the ideal birthday presents for me.
St Francis de Sales
This St Francis is the patron saint of writers. Now I have him hanging over the screen on my iMac. There he will stay for the rest of my life. I’m not a religious person but I do like some of the things he said.
good advice
I don’t do hurry. My inner peace is important to me and I’m good at patience. I have CRPS so I have to be. Some days pain nearly knocks me out and I can’t accomplish much at all. On good days I like to write as much as I can. But first I have to reboot my writer’s voice. Maybe writing this post is a good sign.
St Francis on my computer
And when I find that elusive voice again I’ll be able to jot down notes in this new notebook-another gift from my daughter.
Writer’s Block notebook
But if these charms struggle to motivate me I have two secret weapons sitting on my desk. For some reason, when I was a child I never had a Teddy Bear. Some years ago when I told my sister, she went straight out and bought me the Ted on the left. Until recently he’s been a bit lonely. So when I saw the RAF doing a charity stint in my local Tesco I bought Ted number two. Now they’re best friends
Writer’s Two Teds
One More Thing
It’s time for me to stop reading other authors’ work. Their voices penetrate my thinking. I enjoyed The Cactus, by Sarah Haywood, Where the Forest Meets the Stars by Glendy Vanderahand Lost For Words by Stephanie Butland. But, sorry, ladies. I have to get you out of my head now.
Leave a comment below and let me know if other authors’ voices mess with your head too.
I’m not on my own. Most people like variety in their lives. We get bored, don’t we, doing the same things over and again? Who would want to eat the same meal day after day? Would you want to read the same book or watch the same film for eternity? Wouldn’t that be like being stuck in your personal Groundhog Day?
No, we wouldn’t like that at all. We enjoy some change in our lives.
spice up your life with some variety
In fact, the experts tell us that following on from the core basic necessities of life variety is one of the six human needs. Apparently we need:
The Six Human Needs
Certainty – the comfort of predictability. A feeling of being safe and secure.
Significance – a feeling of achievement and being respected and needed.
Variety – surprise, entertainment, the novelty of a challenge, excitement.
Connection/Love – warmth, desire, togetherness
Growth – learning, strengthening and developing ourselves
Contribution – giving to others, serving
I hope I’m ticking the boxes in a positive way but it seems to me that when it comes to variety you can have too much of a good thing.
Too much of a good thing
In our overfed Western society we don’t have to eat the same meal everyday. There is such an embarrassment of choice on the supermarket shelves. Do we really need all this stuff? Isn’t this over-abundance of choice one of the reasons we have so much obesity today?
too much choice?
Here in the UK we talk about the weather. A lot. Usually the weather is changeable and mostly we’re prepared for it. Often you’ll hear us longing for a week in the sun. But look what this year brought.
we’re having a heatwave
Who knew, when we were living with the Beast from the East during one of the harshest winters ever recorded, that this summer it would be hotter in East Anglia than in Majorca?
Be careful what you wish for! Months without our English rain has left parched fields. Lawns? Forget it. Farmers worry about having enough winter feed for their livestock. Some areas are on hosepipe bans.
what happened to our English green fields?
Drying reservoirs echo what happened in the summer of 1976.
what happens after months of no rain
Learning from nature
So here’s how we can learn from nature’s lessons.
We have to accept change because change(variety) is absolutely necessary. Sun and rain are vital. So are light and darkness. We need variety in our foodstuffs to stay healthy. And, according to the six human needs we need change and variety to feel more fulfilled and satisfied with our lives.
This is why I enjoy writing in different genres. I don’t want to confine myself to writing within a certain type of book just because it’s easier to find its place on the bookshelves. There’s excitement in the novelty of writing for different audiences.
But, just so I can tick the predictability box with my writing you can be certain that all my stories will feature people with problems to solve. I may choose a humorous treatment to tell the tale or a darker, psychological angle may be more appropriate. There will be love or the lack of it, respect or cruelty, darkness and light in order for my characters to grow.
