'The Next Big Thing' as tagged!

My fellow Choc Liteer, Christina Courtenay tagged me in her post ‘The Next Big Thing’ and kindly handed the baton to me… there’s only one problem, which is that I don’t actually discuss my work in progress and I’m far too worried about jinxing anything I do to describe it as a 'big thing'! That said, this post does give me the opportunity to talk about some different aspects of my current book, Move Over Darling, so that’s what I’ve chosen to do instead.

What is the title of your book?
… the tricky ones first, eh.

Where did the idea come from for the book?
Initially it was moving to west Wales and discovering that the population of the county I’d moved to was roughly equal to the small Surrey borough I’d just left. The legacy of working in various research posts in the past has left me (someone who loathed maths at school) with a bit of an appetite for statistics. Looking more closely at the figures, I noticed that increases in the population here are mainly due to middle-aged incomers, masking out the migration of young people in search of better-paid jobs away from a county reliant on the hard-hit sectors of farming and tourism.

And that, dear reader, must surely count as one of the least romantic premises ever for a romantic novel.

What genre does your book fall under?
I write relationship stories about love in many different guises; new lovers find each other, established couples reassess their love, families forge new bonds and the odd pet becomes the object of affection along the way too.

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a film version? Chance would be a fine thing.

However… I have had a wonderful email discussion with the lovely narrator Charlotte Strevens who will be reading the audio book of Move Over Darling. Charlotte contacted me to ask if the Penmorfa in my novel was the Penmorfa in north Wales… at which point I had to take the email equivalent of a deep breath! Both Little Spitmarsh in Turning the Tide and Penmorfa in Move Over Darling are entirely the products of my imagination, as indeed, are their inhabitants (though strangely, I now live next to a hamlet called Penmorfa which rather threw me!).

More to the point, as anyone who lives in Wales will realise, there’s quite a difference in the language and accent of north Wales compared to the rest of the country with both sides convinced they speak Proper Welsh. I couldn’t possibly comment except to say that I was relieved that Charlotte got in touch before Gethin Lewis, the hero of Move Over Darling ended up with a North Walian accent especially as I’d been thinking far more along the lines of Richard Burton reading Under Milk Wood!

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book? Girl who’s escaped to the country meets boy who’s escaped from the country.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? It’s published by Choc Lit.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript? Too long.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? That’s up to the reader.

Who or what inspired you to write this book? The image of my hero, Gethin Lewis, returning to the village where he was born.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? My heroine, Coralie, is adopted by a stray cat she names Rock. I’ve written a short story about how the two met for the December issue of Your Cat magazine.

I’m now passing the baton to new Choc Lit author, Sarah Tranter, who's become a good writing buddy giving me encouragement and helping me along when I’ve been flagging. Over to you, Sarah!

In other news – and if you’re not completely fed up with listening to me, I’m in Best magazine this week (issue 43) making the case for romance. Writer Karen Clark’s clever short story’s in there too.

Happy Endings, New Beginnings

Blended families come with conflicting loyalties and at Christmas time nearly everyone has somewhere else they feel they ought to be. Throw partners into the equation and it gets even more complicated. Since Tom and I aren’t especially hung up about Christmas we’re happy to let our children go with the strongest flow, but I have to say it was a great delight to have the girls and their partners staying with us this year. When such moments are few and far between they become very precious. My stepsons weren’t far from our thoughts either, not least because we had the very happy news on Christmas Day that my elder stepson and his girlfriend had become engaged. Congratulations Dan and Gill, here’s wishing you every happiness together. Tom and I end a year that has seen the fruition of many years work, both of us crossing important thresholds within weeks of each other. I’m really looking forwards to seeing Turning the Tide published next year and it’s been so satisfying, after al...

Fly Free, Dottie Do

‘How many days to my birthday?’ Ma asks. I do a quick calculation. ‘Eighteen,’ I reply. ‘Eighteen days until your ninetieth birthday.’ Ma pulls a face and shakes her head. Every sentence is hard work for her now, when each breath is a struggle. ‘You’ll have to write a book about this, you know,’ she says, with one of her quick, mischievous smiles. ‘“Carry On Dying”. Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em cry.’ The smile fades. ‘Who knew,’ she adds wearily, ‘that dying would be such a palaver?’ It’s only eleven days since Ma was diagnosed with a high-grade, aggressive lymphoma, four days since she was overwhelmed with pain and breathing difficulties and was admitted as an emergency to hospital. Until a few weeks ago, she lived completely independently; shopping, cooking, cleaning and tending her much-loved garden. The deterioration in her health is shockingly rapid. The eight days preceding her death are a living hell, a constant battle with the ward staff to get Ma the pain relief she’s been p...

Since You've Been Gone

Well, Ma Mère, There have been so many times when I’ve gathered up all the little shiny moments I’ve collected during the day, ready to present to you in our evening phone call and then I remember all over again that you’re not there. But, Mum, so much has happened since you’ve gone - maybe you know, maybe you don’t - that I’ve decided to write to you instead. A few days after you died, we sold our house! After all those months! We even joked about you rattling cages somewhere. At first, nothing happened and then suddenly everything happened at a breathless pace and the next thing I knew I found myself driving (yes, me, driving!) along the M4 to Bridgend and the Time Capsule House, the one you said you and Dad would have bought. I remarked, when we first viewed it that if it was meant for us, it would come to us. Over a year later, when it had been under offer twice, we moved in. Oh, Mum, you and Dad would have loved this house; it’s peak Seventies and the decor - the pampas ensu...

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