THE CHILD THIEF proofs are done. I’ve read through; I’ve gritted my teeth whenever I’ve seen something I want to change but can’t; I’ve dotted the t’s and crossed the i’s . . . no wait, is that . . .? oh, you know what I mean.

Anyway it’s done and now I have that feeling of helplessness. Reading the typeset page proofs is usually the last time I read my book (I haven’t read DRY SEASON or DARK HORIZONS since they were published) and it’s always a difficult read. I’ve been over the manuscript dozens of times. I know the story inside out. I know the characters inside out. But that last read-through is the one where I start to wonder . . . ‘could I have told this differently?’ ‘Have I done enough?’

But only you can tell me that now.

THE CHILD THIEF is out of my hands and soon it will be in yours.

No going back.

So I’m going to submerge myself in the harsh world of THE CHILD THIEF one last time. I’m going to scour those pages for errors while, somewhere across the country, a proof-reader will be doing the same. And then it’s ready for printing; ready for you to read.

Be vigilant. The Child Thief is coming. And I think you’re going to like it.

That’s all.

Wrong. There are lots of best selling novels that aren’t really all that great, and there are lots of great novels that aren’t best sellers, so that can’t be it.

Come to think of it, how do authors manage to sell any books at all?

Imagine Mr Debut Novelist. He’s been working hard and has written his first novel – well done – and he’s managed to secure himself an agent (no easy thing) and now he has a publisher (amazing). The book is published to no fanfare and no marketing at all. It’s one of a zillion other books published that year and Mr Novelist begins his online campaign using his website, Twitter, Facebook, Blogging etc.

Wow. This is fantastic. The novel floats to the surface and bobs there for a while. There’s a quote from a best-selling author! There’s a nomination! There are a couple of good reviews in national publications! Real life proper bookshops buy some copies in!

But that’s not enough. Readers glance over those reviews because they’ve never heard of Mr Debut Novelist. The bookshops stick their copies in the A-Z shelves, spine out, where no one will find them unless they’re specifically looking (which they’re not, because they’ve never heard of Mr Novelist, remember). So people buy, but there’s no mass stampede at Waterstones, no clogged servers at Amazon. People aren’t jabbing at their Kindles or hurrying out to the bookshop.

So what is it that gets people worked up? What is it that brings a certain author’s name to the public eye? How do they become known? I really am intrigued by the ability of some novelists to shift huge numbers of their books – particularly debut authors who become instant hits.

Think of Audrey Niffenegger. Tom Rob Smith. Steig Larsson. Regardless of whether or not you like their books – how did they do it?

Is it word of mouth? Is it advertising? Is it witchcraft? Is it a combination of those things, all mixed in with a sprinkle of pixie dust and a fistful of luck?

So, Audrey, Steig, Tom, don’t walk away. We’re looking at you. C’mon. Fess up. Is it alchemy?

That’s all.

coming soon

Normality.

The end of the year always takes on a strange life of its own. All that time off. The children away from school. Eating and drinking things you wouldn’t normally indulge in, at times you wouldn’t usually consider, and in quantities that . . . well, you know all about that, right? You know the last week of December and the first few days of January exist in a weird, hazy bubble. You’ve just been there. You survived it.

But now the bubble has burst and normality has returned with a grin. And it’s staying. It’s not going anywhere.

I could give you a run down of my 2011, but I’m not going to. I could even give you a run down of my hopes and dreams for 2012, but you don’t want to hear about that, do you? You’ve got enough of your own.

So all I’ll say is that I hope you have a good year. I wish all kinds of luck on you and yours  – and we’ll talk later; when things are more settled.

That’s all.

Right then, we’re about to hit Christmas head-on, so it’s time to brace yourself for all that merry-making and I won’t keep you any longer. Have a great Christmas!

Oh yeah, and ‘Happy New Year’, too!

That’s all.

But when we read, we have a physical interaction with the object that delivers the words to us.

My TBR pile

We hold the book or ereader in our hand in order to receive the content. We musn’t fool ourselves that the delivery system isn’t important, because why else would Amazon have remodelled its readers over the past few years? Why else would it launch its alluring colour-screen Kindle Fire? Why else would there be competing ereaders offering different functionality? Why else would readers be able to customize and individualise the physical appearance of the ereader? Of course it’s about the delivery system. In this technological age we all love to ooh and aah over the latest gadget. We like it to look cool and we want to be hip and keep up with the times. If it was only about the content and not the delivery system, wouldn’t the audio book have taken over long ago? Wouldn’t we just listen instead of reading? So, there you go – I don’t agree with that argument. It’s about the content AND the delivery system.

But I’m not all ‘bah humbug!’ about the new technology. In the long run it makes no difference if people read on paper or on screen. For me, though, the book is king. I spend all day looking at screens, so picking up a printed book is a pleasure I would be disappointed to have to live without. I don’t want everything to be electronic. The thought of it makes me shiver. My life is already filled with alerts and notifications and bleeps and pings and I don’t need any more. (I’m also pleased to say that my children – who are very much part of the technological age – both love books in their printed form.)

The real issue for me is that electronic books are intangible. We can’t touch them. We can’t really own them – as far as I can work out, you buy a license to read a book, which means you don’t actually own it. The consumer owns the ereader, but licenses the ebook. So, can that license be revoked? Can your Kindle refuse to let you read your book? And because of this, I see people losing touch with the value of the words contained within, just as many people have lost touch with the value of music. They want it cheap or they want it free. And that’s what worries me most.

Ereader, printed book, however you choose to read is good. I’m sure there can be room for everyone. But let’s not lose touch with the value of what we’re reading.

That’s all.

They’ll love it, of course.

And now I’m onto something new. I’m about half way through and I have a picture of where it will end, but I have no idea how it’s going to get there. Well, not much, anyway. This makes me a little nervous – but then, I’m always a little nervous when I’m writing something new, because I never know how I’m going to get to the end. I know where I’m going to start, I know where I want to end, but everything between is, well, unwritten. I have ideas, of course, but I don’t have a plan.

I recently heard that this makes me a ‘pantser’. Well. Umm. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a ‘pantser’, surely? It really is an awful word. It looks nasty on the page and it sounds nasty when you form the sounds. Go on, say it out loud. Pantser. Ugh.

So, wondering where the word comes from, I googled it and found it defined in the Urban Dictionary as ‘one who performs a pantsing on a pantsie’ which, to my knowledge I have never done. Or it’s defined as ‘someone of either gender who is a major slut’ *shakes head* that’s not me. Uh-uh.

Who you calling 'pantser'?

Oh, here’s the definition I’m looking for – it’s a ‘NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) term that means you ‘fly by the seat of your pants”. Someone who doesn’t plan their novels carefully. It even suggests there is ‘enmity’ between ‘Pantsers’ and ‘Planners’. Really? Like Capulets and Montagues? I can’t imagine why.

Well, anyway . . .  according to NaNoWriMo terminology I’m a ‘pantser’, but I think it’s an ugly word so I’m not going to use it. It sounds like I do something odd with pants. Which I don’t. Instead, what I do is write without knowing what’s going to happen next – and you know what? It might make me a little nervous when I sit down to write, but I like it that way. I love the excitement of wondering what exactly is going to happen to my characters. Something good? Something bad? Well, it’s always something unexpected, that’s for sure. And then new characters rear their heads and turns the whole thing around, which I love.

For me, the planning comes afterwards, when I tidy up the first draft. That’s when I worry about all the details and the mechanics of the story. Before that, I just let it all unfold. (The story, not my pants.)

How about you? Are you a Capulet or a Montague?

Oh, and it’s snowing on my blog. Did you notice?

That’s all.

Reports tell us that the proposed (unwritten) book was the subject of a bidding war, so it comes as no great surprise that the deal went as high as £400,00, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a little depressing. The publishers obviously think they can shift enough copies of the book to justify it but . . . y’know.

The Telegraph tells us that Pippa is:

‘keen for the book to be released next year but is determined that she is not seen to be making money from her closeness to the royal family.Therefore the book is likely to be launched late next autumn, after the summer celebrations around the Queen’s Jubilee but in time for the Christmas market.’

Come on. Of course this is to do with her closeness to the royal family, so why not just be up front about it? I know that Pippa is a ‘writer’ because she edits the online newsletter on her parent’s website, I know she doesn’t want to use her status to sway marketing in her favour, and I know she intends to write the book herself but, still. If she was Jo Shmo who edited her parent’s newsletter she would still just be Jo Shmo. Let’s not kid ourselves, this is another celebrity book, isn’t it? Next Christmas it’ll be on the shelves beside Jeremy Clarkson, Jamie Oliver and all the others who bring out their Christmas gift books.

It isn’t that I mind her geting a great book deal – I hope, for her sake and for the sake of the publishers, that the book does well. I think what bothers me is the whole celebrity thing and the fact that we have to pretend it isn’t becasue she’s connected to the royals. And anyway, what is it that fascinates people so much about the lives of celebrities? I just don’t get it.

That’s all.

Related articles

• Pippa Middleton in ‘£400,000′ book deal (telegraph.co.uk)
• Pippa Middleton and the survival of the preposterous publisher’s advance (guardian.co.uk)

Fancy that, eh? I’ve been awarded the Liebster Blog Award by children’s author Abi Burlingham who does a great line in children’s books and lollipops. Thank you, Abi!

So what is it? Well, Liebster is a German word meaning dearest, and the award is given to up-and-coming bloggers with less than 200 followers. Apparently there are certain things you should do if you receive the award:

1. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you. (which I’ve done, natch)
2. Reveal your top five picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog. (Hmm. Well. See note below)
3. Copy and paste the award on your blog. (Yup)
4. Hope that the people you’ve sent the award to forward it to their five favourite bloggers. (fingers crossed)

Note: Well, you know me. When Did I ever do as I was told? I mean, I wanted to. I really, really did. I wanted to pick five blogs and pass it on and pay-it-forward and, y’know. But . . . I’m going for two. And here they are.

Effortless Cooking. Easy Baking
ElementaryWatson

Something foody and something writery for you to enjoy.

That’s all.

To compound all of this, it was the first time I’d run a workshop. Anyway, I thought long and hard, I planned carefully and in the end it seemed to go pretty well. At least, I think it did. I enjoyed it, people joined in and discussed things, and they did a bit of writing. Some of the people who came along had things on their mind that they needed to maybe see from a different perspective and so went away with a new angle. Others needed a little spark to get them writing, and went away with a few ideas in mind, so that’s good, right? And others had the chance to grill me about the publishing process and my experiences of it.

And that, to me, is the real heart of a workshop. It’s about interacting with other writers in a like-minded environment; it’s about airing your thoughts and finding alternative perspectives. It’s not about someone telling you what to do. It’s about sharing ideas. Because writing advice is such a . . . loose thing. A lot of it is just opinion. Creative writing isn’t a science is it? It’s creative. That’s the clue, right there.

There are no rules. There are guidelines and tools a writer can use but they don’t have to. Creative writing is an art and writers can break all the so-called rules, do all the things they’re told they’re not supposed to and still they produce good work. And, similarly, someone can follow the guidlines, obey the ‘rules’ and still produce something unreadable. I really believe that you can help a writer improve their craft, but if Joe Bloggs isn’t a writer, can someone really teach him how to be? I’m not so sure.

And when it comes to publication, what advice can anyone give? After all, if your manuscript is good, it’s all down to chance. It needs to land on the right desk at the right time. If it doesn’t . . . well, we all know what a rejection letter looks like, right?