EDITOR, EDITOR!

 EDITOR, EDITOR!

As previously announced, I finished book seven in the DI Sonny Russell series of crime mysteries at the end of last year. Now comes necessary but the arduous task of re-reading, editing and generally improving the manuscript.  

I am exceedingly fortunate in having an inhouse editor. My wife, Greer, was a journalist and reporter from when she left college then spent 25 years as a sub-editor on the prestigious Daily Telegraph. She has been going through my book with a fine-tooth comb, picking up on all the mistakes and omissions I've made and making valuable suggestions to further enhance the narrative.

My current job is to input all her hard, detailed work so the story not only flows, but makes sense.

In addition, we've been discussing the final title of the book. While I've been writing it the working title has been BLOOD ON THE NILE, as some of the narrative revolves around stolen Egyptian treasures. However, as much of the book, in line with the previous titles, revolves around Rye and Rye Harbour, we thought it more appropriate to reflect this and it seems probable that it's going to be changed to BLOOD ON THE RIVER BANK, or something similar. Hopefully we will have decided by the end of the editing process. 

 LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

    My poor readers. You've been eagerly awaiting the next book in the DI Sonny Russell series of crime mysteries and I've kept you hanging around for much longer than I usually do between books. I don't know why this one has taken so long - almost two years already. 

    It started well, with a good strong thread revolving around dubious goings on in a sanatorium, then a second thread dealing with Egyptian artefacts someone was trying to sell, which might have been stolen and might or might not be genuine. Somewhere along the line writing slowed to a crawl as I was struggling to find a way forward. It wasn't writers block, as such, but I couldn't even see the tunnel, let alone the light at the end of it. But, at last, the writing has gathered pace.

    In my usual way, I write as a reader - keen to discover what's coming next. Interesting ideas came out of the blue, including a new character, an Assistant Chief Constable, who has requested Russell's help in a sensitive case. This only happened about twenty pages ago and has helped the narrative immensely. 

    I have just passed the magical 75,000 word mark so feel I'm on the home straight. So saying, I'd better get on with writing it!

THE END IS NIGH

 THE END IS NIGH

When I started writing BLOOD ON THE DUNES I began, as always, with a germ of an idea but no definite plan of where the story was going or, indeed, how it was going to end. This is quite normal for me, as I write like a reader - to find out what is going to happen next. The trouble was, by the time I was approaching 20,000 words (about a quarter of the way through), I knew, not only the path the story was going to take but, more alarmingly, how it was going to end. This was definitely not good as either it was going to be a very short book or, more worryingly, I would have to start again from scratch.

By way of a diversion I had introduced a side story concerning the disappearance of a boy from a children's home. (This device is known as a MacGuffin*). DI Sonny Russell is sent to investigate. He is reluctant as he'd rather be involved in more serious crimes, but his boss, Superintendent Stout, insists it's important. Russell thinks that's because the man in charge of the children's home is one of his golfing buddies. 

Then it dawned on me. This diversion was actually a rich seam that I could mine. Suddenly the boy became pivotal to the whole plot and now, as I approach the conclusion to the book, he's taken on a life of his own, which was most unexpected.

In my first DI Russell novel, BLOOD ON THE TIDE, one of the main characters was a German, called Wolfgang. He wasn't a vey nice man but he was disabled and his childhood was rather unhappy. Talking to readers I've since learned that they felt sorry for him. It made me realise that I'd accidentally created a rather complex person that people related to quite differently from how I'd anticipated they would. With this in mind, I've now deliberately written a character, who is far from nice, but who has arrived at where he is because of past circumstances. Hopefully, I've pulled it off.

If you would like to know more about Wolfgang and haven't already discovered my series of books, set mainly around Rye and Romney Marsh in the 1950s, they are available in paperback and Kindle on Amazon and in paperback direct from the author

*In fiction, a MacGuffin is an object, device, or event that is necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but insignificant, unimportant, or irrelevant in itself. The term was originated by Angus MacPhail for film, adopted by Alfred Hitchcock, and later extended to a similar device in other fiction. 

I'M STUCK! Time to bump someone else off.

 I'M STUCK!

Time to bump someone else off.

I'm just over a third of the way through writing BLOOD ON THE DUNES, and I'm struggling. Normally, at this stage in a book I have several story threads going in different directions, not actually knowing when and where they will come together. But whether it's because of the pandemic or something else I seem to have reached a point where I know where the disparate stories are going to resolve, and I'm not even halfway through!

Without giving too much away, a skeleton has been revealed in the sand (hence the book title) and a man has been found dead after a big storm. Also, a boy is missing from a children's home. Unfortunately, I know just how these are connected, but it's far to early to reveal the connection. I've given this a huge amount of thought, on my walks on the beach with Aggie, without coming up with any sensible ideas. Then, yesterday, I had a brainwave. I'm going to have to produce another body!

This might sound drastic, and, on the face of it, not very realistic, but I think I can blend another death into the story, convincingly. I just hope it will provide enough fodder to help carry the story on for another 50,000 words. Fingers crossed.

SLOUGH OF DESPOND

 SLOUGH OF DESPOND

or why can't I be arsed?

Maybe it's because of the never-ending pandemic. Maybe it's because of the fallout from the stupid Brexit. Maybe it's because of the crap, unsettled weather. Maybe the planets are misaligned. Maybe it's all or none of these. Whatever it is, I just can't raise enthusiasm for tasks that I normally find challenging and usually enjoy. 

Generally, Aggie and I go for a trot to the beach and I find a suitable location and take a photo of her posing somewhere interesting, then post it on social media later. But even those photo shoots are now few and far between. I still try to walk a couple of miles a day and odd things still lift my spirits. Yesterday, it was the sight of a schooner in full sail in the bay which got me excited, but it hasn't lasted. Even railway modelling, where I can usually lose myself and lose track of time, holds no attraction.

I'm not suffering from writers block, either. In fact I've put down over a thousand words of the new book - number six in the Inspector Sonny Russell series - and I know where the plot is going - vaguely, so it's not that. Also, I've got a new laptop so writing is physically much easier. But, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to actually get down to it.

I've been trying to get the latest book, Blood in the Garden, formatted for kindle. Even that is proving to be a trial and I'm wondering if it's worth it. 

Could it be my age? I know we're supposed to slow down as we get older but it ain't no fun. I guess I'll just have to weather it and hope my normal enthusiasm returns soon. Otherwise...