Hello Reader,
From Author HQ
Independent publishing is not for sissies.
Trish and I are working like demons to launch a new title in The Clatterbridge Mysteries every six weeks. Much of the detailed technical work – the proof-reading, the formatting, making sure the back-matter and the front-matter of each book contains all the information required, getting proof copies from Amazon, communicating with the book cover designer, working out marketing schedules and much, much more – is Trish’s responsibility.
All I’ve got to do is write the books, which quite honestly feels like the less challenging and time-consuming part of the business.
This month we have to complete our preparations for the release of the second and the third books in the series, Murder at 22 O’Clock, and Murder as a Line of Enquiry. I am also busy with my rewrite of number four – written first, but needing an extensive rejig. I’m hoping that I’ll finish this by the end of the month before moving on to number seven, tentatively called Murder as a Defining Characteristic.
No wonder Author HQ is buzzing!
The Wildlife of the Marina
Swan wars. It happens from year to year. This year our resident swans had four off-spring. They’re now half-grown – amazing how quickly they turn from cheeping chicks to cheeping teenagers. Another family, also, we think, consisting of mum and dad and four youngsters, had the temerity to infiltrate the lake. What were they thinking? Priory Lake is taken, don’t they understand? It didn’t take long for our dad to put his head down ominously and paddle at triple speed at the interlopers. His profile and his aggressive intent was enough to have the intruders turn tail and leg it out of here as fast as they could. The skirmish lasted no more than a couple of minutes, but every other bird on the lake was aware of the drama, and withdrew to the sidelines to let the monarch have at the enemy.
This latest example of civil war in the animal kingdom reminded me that evolution is a ruthless business. It can lead to the filicide that occurred here a couple of years ago when the lone offspring of our swans lingered too long. His father repeatedly suggested he leave to make his own way in the world, going so far as to chase him out into the river. He repeatedly refused, returning to the lake in which he’d grown to adulthood.
When eventually he did disappear, we assumed he’d finally taken the hint. But Caroline, our neighbour (the inspiration for Beth in my Clatterbridge Mysteries) told us she’d seen the father attack and kill his child.
Did he have murderous intent? Clearly not. There is no morality in the animal kingdom. He was simply making room for the next generation.
So when next I admire the exquisite beauty of the swans on our lake, I will remind myself that nature is less paradise and more gladiatorial arena: the victors leave the blood-sodden field triumphant, and the losers are dragged out by their feet.
And yet, Trish and I often remind ourselves that we are living in paradise. In recent days we’ve been plundering the brambles along the river from our kayak for blackberries which we will turn into blackberry jelly – and taking photographs of the wildflowers along the way.
Story Seeds
The charity relay swim that forms a key part of the story in Murder as a Working Hypothesis was inspired by a similar swim that Trish and I took part in a couple of years ago in a nearby spring-fed lake at Box End Park.
It was held to raise money for a charity called Level Water which provides swimming lessons for disabled children. I know that when I was a child, swimming provided me with a unique opportunity to regain mobility in the supportive environment of the water.
Our team of eight – drawn for the most part from friends and neighbours, some of whom live on our marina – each swam for three hours, one hour at a time, along a triangular course. My three sessions took place late in the afternoon, at two in the morning, and at mid-morning.
We raised thousands of pounds for Level Water.
And it gave me a literally immersive experience to use in Murder as a Working Hypothesis.
Clatterbridge at Large
The first story I wrote in the series initially had no name – and I soon realised that it would only earn one after I’d given it a thorough revision. I’m busy with that now – and in doing so, have perforce had to discard many of the scenes I’d been so proud of first time round.
The story now has a name, it’s Murder, If That’s the Word, which will be published on December 1 as a Christmas special.
Here’s one of the scenes that didn’t make it to the knock-out rounds:
