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.
Book covers have been discussed in other people’s blogs. Usually they poke fun at ridiculous designs. On Google images, you can find pictures of the 10 worst book covers of all time etc. Some of them are so bad they’re hilarious. Mostly they are genre fiction of the kind of inexpensive reads you used to find on a market stall. Self-published books are notorious for having poor quality covers. But what about book cover design on recent highly-rated books from mainstream publishers?
I don’t like some current fashions in book covers. There, I’ve said it. Can’t be plainer than that. Some book cover designs are so awful I wonder what their authors thought about the packaging of their precious months of hard work. Self-published books have some kind of an excuse for having terrible covers, but where mainstream publishers put out our favourite authors’ latest novels in covers that scream second-rate, I get annoyed.
Here are examples of some of the books I’ve read:
What?
What were they thinking putting that cheap red title in letters that look like worn road markings? If I didn’t know Mr Coben’s work I wouldn’t have bought this book. It looks as if it’s about some pervy paedo with a taste for little boys. Yuk!
I have no qualification in design so you’re entitled to tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about. But I’m entitled to my opinion and it’s this: current trends in book cover designs can be misleading.
In some cases, very misleading . . .
great story – terrible cover
Oh, Kate I loved this novel, but the cover? It cheapens your plot and characters. It looks like a quasi-erotic historical romance. It is based on historical events, of course, and there is a story of love woven within it, but the novel is so much more. This cover design neglects the hardships endured by your primary female characters. Anyone would think the whole book was about a Russian princess in her red satin gowns waiting for Prince Charming to arrive.
Misleading book covers
Why do they do it? Why do they want to make novels look as if they’re about something else? Here’s more –
deserves something better than this tired image
Painter of Silence by Georgina Harding is contemporary literary fiction. It rips your heart out. I think somebody must have briefed the designer with ‘It’s a haunting tale of . . .’ and the designer stopped listening, didn’t bother to read the book and came up with a book cover that looks like it ought to be a ghost story. Ooh- er – something nasty in the attic, eh? And what is Mrs Danvers doing climbing the steps in this version of a burnt out Manderley?
Speaking of Rebecca, look what they did to a reprint of du Maurier’s classic story.
tasteless book cover
It’s no better than a card from Moonpig or the Dog’s Doodahs or Funky Pigeon. And what’s with all this red, satin stuff again? Is this another case where the cover designer never read the book?
Won’t readers new to the author be disappointed when they discover the story hasn’t got any red satin glamour about it at all?
Won’t that same disappointment prevent them from buying books by that author ever again?
What is the point of misleading prospective purchasers?
Here’s another classic novel with a badly updated cover.
dire book cover
Everything about this cover is SO wrong. They couldn’t even choose a font that encapsulates the era of the narrative.
I don’t like book covers where they use a scene from the film, either.
how could you tell what kind of a book this is?
This was a good book before they made a film out of it. Why put famous actors’ faces on the cover? To attract a different body of readers? Misleading again?
It seems to me publishers are afraid of what they choose to call literary fiction.
So, stop calling it that then.
A good read is a good read whatever genre you want to put it in.
Here’s a cheap and nasty looking book cover where the story is about cheap and nasty characters.
should have been a cult read . . .
Layer Cake was given me by friends returning to England. I’d never heard of it and didn’t know it was also a film. The characters are such villains and probably a little stereotypical, but it doesn’t matter because this is one entertaining read. You can’t help rooting for the protagonist. It belongs with other cult reads but with a cover like this it’s only ever going to find its way into the second-hand shop, in my opinion. I get the car and the iron, but what’s with the Humpty Dumpty colours and the primary school layout?
It looks like a Haynes car manual. With an iron. How to repair those small dents in your bodywork . . .
mixed feelings about this one
One Day I can look at the cover of One Day and see the faces. On other days I see a wobbly candlestick. But then, when the original Batman film poster first appeared I wondered why it had on it an open mouth with strange golden teeth.
Do you remember the one I mean?
two ways of seeing it?
Can you see the teeth? Ah, well.
So it might be just me.
What do I know?
Sometimes book covers are spot on even if they are still misleading. Here’s an example of one I think works well.
designed to arouse curiosity
The cover for 50 Shades does its job well, in my opinion. It makes you wonder about what’s inside. The cover is actually classier than the narrative and that’s where it’s misleading, but the lady made a packet so she must be right.
I like the lone figure in the landscape appearance of Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novels. Not only are they appropriate for the storyline but they are instantly recognisable as another Jack Reacher walking into trouble novel. You know you’re not going to be disappointed. There’s no misleading.
The lone figure image worked well for Carlos Ruiz Zafòn’s Shadow of the Wind. Great book; great cover.
mouth-watering cover, full of promise
I loved this book. The lone figure is not a Jack Reacher type, standing tall (all 6ft. 5 of him ) ready to get his fists out and sort the problem. The shadowy figure here has his head down; his shoulders slightly stoop. You know you’re going to feel sorry for him or worry about him at some point.
There’s mystery in that fog.
There’s danger in those dark buildings.
a paler version
The cover is enticing.
The lone figure emblem didn’t work so well second time around.
Or, maybe it did. Maybe it was truthful. It was a paler image for a paler story. I think it was a mistake to stick with the same kind of imagery as the first book.
Do you get disappointed by book covers? Do they sometimes put you off buying a book?
How important do you think book covers really are?
I’d love to read your opinions. Drop me a line and share your thoughts.
Have you forgotten what kids used to read? I was doing some research for an idea I have for a new novel and I came across a childhood book of mine as I rummaged through old notes and boxes of stuff. I was astounded. My search came to a halt and off I went down the sidetrack. As you might remember from a previous post, it often happens – don’t worry.
I’d won a prize at primary school and in those days prizes most likely would be a book token. I was 8 years old. This is the book I chose.
I read this when I was 8yrs old
From the Royal Series by the publisher Ward Lock & Co, this classic children’s book by Robert Louis Stevenson had been our class reader. I loved it. I liked it best when our teacher, Mrs Hall read from it. I wanted to be able, like her, to put expression into the action and read aloud with confidence.
The book cost 4 shillings. I remember my mother being surprised that this was how I wanted to spend my prize token. Treasure Island was really for boys, wasn’t it? Was I sure that this was what I really wanted?
She showed me other books from the same series.
I read this one later
Uncle Tom’s Cabin was one I read when I was a bit older. What Katy Did or what she did next didn’t interest me at all. However I did enjoy Little Women when I was around eleven. So, I went home with Treasure Island and read again the story of all those great characters.
Now here’s an interesting thing. Look what Ward Lock had to say on the back cover of the Royal Series and I quote exactly as printed on the dust cover.
Ward Lock 1957 said . . .
‘These stories should be read by all young people, for they are an essential part of our cultural heritage and as significant in the educative process as any subject in the school curriculum.’
Wow! They go on to say,
‘Above all, through an exciting world of imagination, they will gain knowledge of human beings and their ways that would otherwise take a life-time to acquire.’
Blimey! Sounds like they were publishing books for young Martians.
Ward Lock now publishes text books for teachers and students. I wonder what they think about how children’s literature has changed over the years. Or ways it hasn’t changed at all. Here’s a link to their current web site.
Here’s an excerpt from Treasure Island Chapter 4 – punctuation as original –
‘It was already candle-light when we reached the hamlet, and I shall never forget how much I was cheered to see the yellow shine in doors and windows; but that, as it proved, was the best of the help we were likely to get in that quarter. For – you would have thought men would have been ashamed of themselves – no soul would consent to return with us to the “Admiral Benbow.” The more we told of our troubles, the more – man, woman, and child – they clung to the shelter of their houses.’
I wonder how many 8 year olds would get their heads round that now?
By the end of Chapter 5 there have already been three deaths: Jim’s father upstairs on his sick bed; Captain Billy in the inn from a stroke after drinking too much rum; and Blind Pew who is trampled by horses.
Murder and mayhem just to get you started. Good guys and bad guys.
In what ways do you think children’s literature has changed?
What is it that makes a book satisfying for you? When you’re choosing your next read, do you look for some kind of guarantee it’s going to hit the spot?
can any book guarantee reader satisfaction?
Imagine – you’re in the zone – receptive to suggestions – you’re browsing genres – willing to take a little chance – open to new ideas. You spot an interesting cover – you read the blurb. Maybe you read the opening paragraphs, too. You’ve never heard of the author but you’re bookless and looking forward to your next read. But it’s got to be satisfying.
Chances are, what makes that book hit the spot for you won’t be the same as what makes a book satisfying for me.
do not disturb!
We like different things, don’t we, all of us? We’re attracted by different images and colours which make us choose to investigate book titles further. We might insist that we were open to new ideas and receptive to suggestions, but we were still subconsciously bound by our preferences. Those preferences grew out of our personal experiences with books and reading. You can’t prefer something you’ve never experienced.
Let me give you an example. If you asked me six years ago if I’d read any Cornwell, Reichs, Slaughter, Gerritsen etc. I would have said, I don’t think I’d enjoy that kind of book. I had never been tempted to try titles in that genre. They simply didn’t appeal. Then a friend came to stay and left books behind. I was bookless and read them. Now I have a collection of aforementioned authors. It turned out I enjoyed the genre after all and I’ve since broadened my reading experience to include action thrillers. Who knew I’d turn out to be Jack Reacher’s #1 fan?
a dog’s fave genre?
But then, as I’ve said elsewhere on my website, I love variety. My bookshelves comprise an unusual mix, some might say. Authors now have a better chance of attracting me to their titles because I’ve experienced a wider range of books.
But, I’m still not too easy to please. The writing has to transport me. I have to care what happens next. Characters have to be attractive to me in some way. I must want to see them attempt to reach their goal. Or the plot has to be fascinating. I have to want to turn the page.
But is satisfying enough to aim for when we’re writing? Would I be delighted if, when I eventually have my novels on sale, reviewers vote them a satisfying read?
I don’t think I would. I guess I’m aiming for the Wow factor. I think I have to. As a novelist, I’m unpublished. It’s been hard enough to break through into magazine publication and I know that to achieve success with a debut novel, you have to come up with something really special.
My novel Trobairitz won’t please everybody. Neither will Patterns of Our Lives. They’re for different markets. You can’t please everybody. But I’d like to think I could burst the satisfaction meter for some readers.
What constitutes the difference between a satisfying read and the Wow factor for you?
You have to know. You have to be able to say, very succinctly, what your novel is about. What it ultimately IS. In one sentence. Go on. Say it. If you can’t, there’s a good chance you don’t really know what your purpose is for this book.
just three rules would be easy . . .
A funny little quote from W. Somerset Maugham is all well and good and lightens the mood in an old-fashioned, quaint sort of way, does it not, Madam? Sir?
But we ain’t writing old-fashioned, quaint sorts of books, are we? Unless we’re Alexander McCall Smith and he’s a master so there’s no point in trying to emulate his style.
We have to have thrust. We have to have a clear picture of where we’re going right at the very beginning of this book, and we have to keep watching the SatNav all along the way to prevent from wandering from our ultimate purpose.That’s why we need one clear sentence that says what this book IS. That’s why we have to keep that one clear sentence lodged in our thinking as the plot progresses.
Our electricity tariff in France is what we inherited when we bought the house. It’s called Tempo. You need a university degree to understand how it works. There are Red Days, White Days and Blue Days and within each price band there’s a cheaper night rate that kicks in at ten pm. A forecast box on the wall in our utility room tells us what to expect for the morrow. From November onwards, it’s a house rule to check the forecast.
White Days equate to standard charges. Blue Days are cheap rate all day long. They come in summer when you don’t want any heating and it’s too damned hot to cook anyway. Red Days, though. Oh, Red Days. There are twenty-two of them spread through the winter months. Red Days are when you switch off all the lights. Red Days are when you hope somebody invites you out to dinner. On Red Days, we bring in the camping gas stove and set it up on the hob. We don’t use the electric kettle or the dishwasher or the washing machine and tumble dryer, or the vacuum or the iron. We don’t have on the computer and the television. We eat stir-frys and anything else that cooks quickly in one pan. Red Days’ electricity costs ten times the cheap rate.
The upside of all this is
a) Red Days are a good excuse not to do any housework.
b) On summer Blue Days you can afford to put on the air-conditioning
c) By law, our supplier can’t give us a Red Day on Sundays or Bank Holidays.
d) It’s rather nice sitting by the log fire in a room lit by candles
The downside of all this is
a) I spend all day Sunday washing, drying and ironing
b) I’ve taken to wearing winceyette pyjamas and taking a hot water bottle to bed
c) You can’t read by candlelight
d) Dinners can be a bit boring
With this last in mind, an idea for a book comes to mind. Red Day Dinners. Now, how would I pitch that?
First of all, I’d have to ask friends to donate recipes. I’m no great shakes in the kitchen. My greatest culinary strength is the one handed down by my mother: never waste anything. Throw it all in a pan and fry it up. The results can be surprisingly tasty, even if they are an odd colour. If the colour turns out too obnoxious, you crack in a couple of eggs.
See, there’ll probably be an expert out there who knows how to use a steamer on the one gas ring of a camping stove to cook a whole three course meal. I think I might manage two: warmed up leftovers in the bottom and a steamed slab of chocolate cake in the top. Voilà. And there we have it. Celia’s Simple Red Day Supper. Perhaps I should rethink the title of that book!
But, I’ve neglected to mention what’s happening outside on Red Days. It’s cold. It’s very cold. It’s a dry kind of cold that feels like daggers in your eyes. The wind slices through your clothes as if it’s trying to rip them from your back. Huge cedars and sky-piercing cypresses rock and sway and the distant mountains have done some overnight magic. The peaks are covered in snow. In the crystal light of a Red Day, they seem closer than ever, majestic against that winter blue sky, rock faces glowing pink at sunset.
Birds gather each morning on the top of a neighbour’s television aerial. They sit in tight rows and speculate on the day before they fly off to eat. At four thirty every afternoon, there they are, back on the aerial again before dusk summons them to roost.
