How the Book got its Name…

So here it is, the cover for my new book, finally revealed. Whales and Strange Stars. Now then, people say to me, that’s an intriguing title. What on earth does it mean? Is it about whales? Or, Heaven forfend, whaling? The short answer is no. Allow me to explain: the story begins with a sea captain passing through a sleepy riverside ferry crossing. While he waits to continue his journey, he fills the time by telling his traveller’s tales to the young girl who lives there. He tells her that the stars are different, if you sail far enough; he tells her about great oceans and the creatures that live in them, and many other wonders, too. For the girl, who has never travelled away from home, or even seen the sea, the whales and stars come to symbolise adventure – the wide world she longs to explore. And that is how the book got its name. So you see, absolutely no whales were harmed, or stars displaced, in the writing of this story.

For all that, it isn’t an easy title to illustrate, being a metaphor.  We have taken the literal approach, as you see, with actual whale and stars in a woodcut style that suits the 18^th century setting of the story. It’s a tale of secrets and betrayal, and the stark contrast of colours suits that, too.

My thanks go to Crooked Cat Books for such original and striking artwork. I hope readers like it as much as we do.

 

 

 

 

Ready to read soon…

Whales and Strange Stars

A stunning mystery in the tradition of Jamaica Inn. When a sea captain passes through the forgotten port of Wych Ferry and whiles away an hour at the Tradewinds Inn relating his traveller’s tales to young Rosamund Euden, he has no idea of the dramatic events he has set in action. Adventure, dark magic and betrayal in the marshlands of 18^th century Kent.

To be published by Crooked Cat Books, 16 January, 2018

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A Very Peculiar Theatre

During my recent break in Cornwall I was fortunate in being able to visit the open air theatre at Minack. I had watched TV programmes about this beguiling place, just round the corner from Land’s End, but none of it prepared me for the reality. It is simply breathtaking.

Don’t look down. Minack Theatre seen from the top.

If you haven’t heard of it, it is a complete theatre – the stage occupying a rock ledge and the seats cut into a steep cliff. The backdrop – and how could you beat this – is the sea and the stunning Cornish coastline. As a visitor you hardly know whether to look outwards to the surroundings or inwards to this remarkable building. One of my best memories of the visit is of standing within the theatre watching gannets diving into a turquoise-blue sea. Quite a sight.

A very unusual stage setting

The theatre dates from the 1930s – the first performance was The Tempest – and has been developed over the years. It was built by an extraordinary woman, Rowena Cade. Now, when we speak of someone from a wealthy background building something, we usually mean they paid for it, rather than got to work with a pick and shovel. But not the redoubtable Miss Cade. She mixed concrete, carried timber, shovelled sand – and all up and down an almost sheer cliff face; she was responsible for the lovely Celtic-style designs carved into the concrete; and she continued to work physically on the theatre until she was over 80. It’s a remarkable story as well as a remarkable place.

Miss Cade’s dauntless enthusiasm and energy is everywhere, her whole personality carved into the cliff face, along with the titles of all the plays (and musicals; imagine West Side Story on a Cornish cliff!) ever performed in this unique setting.

It’s quite a legacy to leave behind, for one woman – and a reminder to us all that if we want to achieve something it’s not enough to have a good idea; we must roll our sleeves up and get on with the hard labour.

If you’re visiting Cornwall, Minack Theatre is a must-see.

Restless sea – always at work as background music…

Ready to read soon…

Whales and Strange Stars

A stunning mystery in the tradition of Jamaica Inn. When a sea captain passes through the forgotten port of Wych Ferry and whiles away an hour at the Tradewinds Inn relating his traveller’s tales to young Rosamund Euden, he has no idea of the dramatic events he has set in action. Adventure, dark magic and betrayal in the marshlands of 18^th century Kent.

To be published by Crooked Cat Books,  January, 2018

An Open Window

Here in the UK we have recently celebrated the August Bank Holiday Weekend. This is traditionally marked by cool temperatures and driving rain – but this year, at least here in Weymouth, it has been the hottest and sunniest on record. Memorable, then. But it’s been memorable for me in quite another way.

On the Thursday afternoon I clicked on a video link on Facebook, apparently from a friend. I am normally very wary about clicking on links, but my friend had been experimenting with live videos for his forthcoming book launch, and I thought it was one of those. It wasn’t. With a simple click of the mouse my Facebook account was hacked and similar videos began appearing in messages to my friends, apparently from me, and, later, on my timeline too. There was no stopping the things, and they proliferated.

Now I have, in the past, had the unhappy experience of having my house burgled via an unsecured window. I am aware of the feeling of violation that comes from knowing someone has entered your house, rifled through your belongings and taken whatever they wanted. Having your Facebook account hacked brings many of the same feelings in its wake.

After the burglary, when locks had been changed, an alarm installed and far greater care taken to secure windows, I was shaken but felt my home was now safe. However, nothing I could do could secure my Facebook account, and in the end I had to bring in an IT professional to fix not only Facebook, but my whole computer. There was a possibility that malware had found its way in and might gain access to my private files and passwords.

It’s hard for me to accept this, since never in life would I dream of invading another person’s privacy in this way. I simply cannot imagine doing such a thing. The experience left me exhausted, distressed, suspicious and, at times, downright paranoid wondering if someone had access to my files, photos – my whole life, in short.

My Facebook presence is important to me because it gives me convenient access to distant friends and family, and also an essential point of contact with my publisher, readers and the large supportive community of authors of which I am part. I value it highly, and I can only hope that this horrible online virus hasn’t damaged my reputation. My first thought on returning was to change my Facebook photo, as the old one, at least in my mind, was fatally compromised by appearing on the messages sent out in my name. I simply couldn’t look at it without being overcome by a feeling of dismay.

I don’t imagine either burglars or hackers waste much time regretting the acute distress they cause, but it’s very real for their victims, as I know to my cost. My computer came back scrubbed clean and chastened, but it’ll be some time before I get over the sheer panic I felt, and I’ll be far more careful in future.

So, please, everybody, enjoy the internet, enjoy the connection it can bring to all sorts of delightful and interesting people, stories and information. But use it with care, and ask questions before you click. One careless move is all it takes to open a window and let a potentially very nasty burglar into your life.