Paparazzi Piece

What a pleasant surprise. Sitting at my desk, where I've just been handed the post, and the first envelope I open contains a couple of copies of Badische Zeitung - a German newspaper. And there, right across the section front page is one of my Stonehenge Solstice photos, along with two more underneath!

I've had photos published before, but seeing my work in a newspaper is a first - there's even a little Foto credit byline! Maybe one day they'll let me shoot the cover photo for one of my books...

What, me worry?

This is the bit I dislike. After the elation (and it was elation) of completing that first draft of book two, I've nervously handed out a few copies to some trusted readers, so I can get their thoughts before I start editing in earnest.

I think it's the waiting that's the real killer. Never the most patient of people, I'm finding the suspense just a little bit awful.

The good news is that four of my friends from the long-lost Taunton's writing group have generously agreed to be my test-audience. Their feedback did so much to shape Eye Contact, and they're honest enough to criticise where necessary, so it bodes well that they are accompanying my characters on the next leg of their journey.

And now for something completely different...

I've deliberately avoided reading Book Two since completing the first draft. From my experience with Eye Contact, it's clear that a little time gives you a lot more perspective when it comes to the edit, and hopefully absence will make the heart grow fonder in terms of how well it reads too.

In the meantime, I've been able to relax a little more over the last few weekends, even managing to spend a whole day in Bristol with my wife, which was excellent. However, I have still found time to do a little writing...

It's a different idea - not part of the series, and not really a subject I'd ever thought about exploring. However, someone asked if I'd ever thought about doing a particular sort of story, and their words stayed with me. Discussing it with my son, we fleshed out an idea and then left it alone, but over the last couple of weeks I've revisited it and found it a refreshing change of scene.

The first three chapters came together surprisingly quickly, and I'm actually rather tempted to push forward with it. First things first, though. It's surely time to crack on with the Book Two edit, but it's nice to have a different project on the horizon to look forward to.

A Tale of Two Box-sets

A while ago, my brother in law grew weary of recommending TV shows to me, and forcibly gave me a couple of box-sets. Consigned to the pile, and overlooked for a while, were Spiral (or Engrenages) and The Killing - both crime series.

We watched Spiral first. It's very stylish, very French and, despite the rather open ending, season one was gripping. Each episode has short story arcs, with crimes that the team are investigating, while the larger conspiracies unfold gracefully across the length of the series. Though some of the characters are more likeable than others, they all feel true, and it's hard not to be engaged in all of the interweaving threads.

We immediately bought season two, which was even better, and followed it with season three, which was still enjoyable but a little more laboured.

And then we watched The Killing. I'm aware it's a remake of a Danish show called Forbrydelsen, but we came to it cold so I can't compare the merits of the two versions.

The first episode was mostly excellent - gritty, beautifully shot, wonderfully scored - with a few jarring "oh the humanity" moments that almost put me off. Fortunately, we persevered, and the series largely manages to shrug off these "subtitles for the hard of thinking" and deliver a one long arc, that twists and turns agonisingly around a group of disparate characters, drawing them together...

...except, it's actually less than one arc. Just as the last episode builds to a neat climax that wraps (almost) everything up, one deft move scatters all the pieces of the puzzle ready for season two. It's a measure of how good the show is that this wasn't too frustrating.

Season two starts this week, and while I love the ongoing nature of the story, I hope it does what shows like Twin Peaks never quite had time for - resolves!

And across the line...

So, I'm sitting on the train at Bristol Templemeads, waiting for it to leave. I've opened my laptop out of habit, but this will be the first train journey in almost a year where I've not been writing Book Two.

It’s a strange feeling, coming to the end of such a long endeavour (and yes, I know that there are months of editing ahead, but this is the only definite point you can celebrate in the process, and I intend to enjoy it). I came up to Bristol yesterday and checked into a hotel with the intention of staying until I’d wrapped the first draft. I finished at lunchtime today.

Part of the reason to come up here is because this is where so much of the book is set. Indeed, we’re moving now, and I can see the large grey building where Bristol CID are based – an important location for the story – out of the window. But I also needed to isolate myself from all the distractions of home, and sadly that means that I’m away from my family at a time when I really want to hug people with excitement. Somehow, I don’t think the rather serious-looking woman sitting opposite would appreciate that.

Oddly enough, as I’m writing this, my iPhone has just started playing The Moment I Said It by Imogen Heap – eerily appropriate, as the song has been a sort of mood-board for getting into the head of my principal female character, and my working title for this book came from within the lyrics.

I’m getting such a kick looking out of the windows – we’ve just left Bath and I’d forgotten how beautiful this journey can be. And there are more significant locations coming up shortly, when we pass through Avoncliff and Salisbury – like so much of the book, it seems this blog post is being written “on-location” ;-)

Time to close the laptop, I think.

Back again...

It's been a while, but Book 2 is progressing well and drawing towards a traumatic (and rather bloody) conclusion.

I've spent a few weekends in Bristol, where much of the story is set, freeing myself from the tempting distractions of home, and allowing me to quickly visit the places I am writing about. Sometimes I stay at the Radisson Blu, which overlooks the Watershed area of the harbourside - you can just make out the street where my detective lives from the higher floors - but this weekend it was fully booked so I tried a boutiquey little guesthouse in Clifton and had a very productive couple of days.

The weather was glorious this morning, and my walk into town was really rather cultural - passing Damien Hirst's giant Charity figure, the Banksy window mural, and at least one of those bizarre painted gorillas that you see all over the city - before a spell spent typing in the Arnolfini.

Later, I moved across to my normal haunt upstairs in the Watershed Cafe, and managed to complete two of the linking chapters that have been eluding me recently. By the time I got off the train and walked home, I had yet another section done.

A couple more weekends like this, and the draft should be wrapped. The only problem is all the calories - I now have so many places I like to eat in Bristol, and if I'm not careful, either myself or my detective will need to go on a diet.

Reluctance

It isn't easy to kill someone, especially someone you know. Over the past couple of weeks, my thoughts have increasingly been drawn to the last moments of a character who I'm really rather fond of, and the fateful chapter I know I have to write.

Strictly speaking, it's not "due" yet – chronologically, there are other bits to finish first, but the scene is growing ever clearer in my mind, and I think I'll have to address it soon. I wonder if doing so will change how I feel about the character – going back and writing other parts of their story, knowing that they're already dead?

These major scenes can certainly be emotionally draining to do – perhaps that's the reason for my reluctance to tackle it. Then again, with my habit of writing on-location, I must admit that a storm-swept clifftop will be more appealing once the weather gets a little warmer.