Chris Nickson's Blog, page 6

The Week Of Wonders

It’s been quite a week – well, a week and a half, really. Today I’m just going to stop and catch my breath, because I feel I’ve been going full tilt.

It all began with my publisher sending me the review for Rusted Souls from Publishers Weekly, one of the big US literary trades. A good review in the trades can certainly boost sales. So I’d been waiting nervous, even though the book isn’t out until September 5. And…it was a starred review. What I’d been dreaming and crossing my fingers to have.

“It all culminates in a knockout conclusion that showcases Nickson’s unique blend of intricate plotting and well-rounded character development.”

Wow.

Then a meeting with Leeds Libraries to finalize details for the exhibition A Copper’s Eye: Tom Harper’s Leeds, 1890-1920. It’s going to run in the Family History Library at Leeds Central Library from September 25 to October 7, with photos from the Leodis archive, artefacts and more to illustrate the real incidents and people from the books. The event will have a few guests to spotlight items, plus a recorded song by Jennifer Reid (Gallows Pole), who’s set a poem by Leeds socialist politician Tom Maguire to music.

Then another review from the US trades, Kirkus Reviews. I was overwhelmed when they gave it a starred review, sating “The 11th and final installment of Nickson’s Tom Harper series ties up all the loose ends and breaks your heart…an excellent procedural paints a painfully accurate portrait of dealing with dementia.”

I was floating – I’m sure you can imagine.

Then, on eBay, I discovered a token for the Green Dragon Inn, in Leeds. In the Simon Westow novels, Jane lives in a cottage with Mrs Shields located behind Green Dragon Yard. What could I do? I bought it.

The real highlight came last Friday. I’d discovered online that a former English teacher of mine would be visiting my old school, and an old classmate happened to have his email. The teacher is someone I’ve long wanted to thank, because he was the first to encourage my writing. I emailed, and he remembered me. Not only that, he told me that way back then, he’d sent some of my poems to a New Writing programme on Radio Leeds, although nothing ever happened.

By the time we briefly met on Friday at the school, he was halfway through the second of my books that he’d read, and I gave him two more. And finally I had a chance to say thank you to a teacher who helped change my life.

Finally, yesterday I was interviewed for a piece about Rusted Souls, the Tom Harper series and the exhibition for an article to appear in a few weeks in the Yorkshire Post. Details to follow…

You can pre-order Rusted Souls in hardback – here is the cheapest price, with free UK postage. If you haven’t started the series yet, the first two books, Gods of Gold and Two Bronze Pennies, are under £3 on Kindle in the UK.

Going Back With Tom Harper

Enjoyed the heat and glorious sunshine of Whitby last Saturday. Being there set me thinking of Billy Reed, who was an important character in the first seven Tom Harper books. The eighth, The Molten City, opened with his funeral.

He was the former army man who’d fought in Afghanistan in the 1880s, given to drinking and occasional violence. The detective sergrant who worked with Tom Harper in Leeds City Police when Tom was still a detective inspector – at least, until Tom asked him to bend the truth and they fell out. He transferred to the fire brigade, rising to inspector himself, before returning to the police, in charge of the force in Whitby, the place that has always meant peace for him.

He’d married Elizabeth, a widow from Middleton with four children. She’d taken over Annabelle Harper’s three bakeries in Leeds and made a success of them. In Whitby, she ran a tea room by the market place.

Where Elizabeth had her tea room.

The family lived on Silver Street.

They were happy, becoming settled in their new life. Two sisters whod come from the Leeds workhouse lived with a family just down the road. Tom and Annbelle visited to spend a holiday on the coast.

Then Billy dropped dead of a heart attack.

Where Billy died.

The Harpers, of course, attended the funeral.

Being there made me think of the web this series has cast, the people who were a part of it. Who were all very real to me.

You know what? Now the series has ended, I miss them all.

You can pre-order Rusted Souls, the final Tom Harper novel. This is the cheapest price in hardback, with free UK postage. In the first review, Publishers Weekly starred it, saying that “a knockout conclusion that showcases Nickson’s unique blend of intricate plotting and well-rounded character development. Series devotees will be thrilled.” Can’t go better than that.

The Story Behind Rusted Souls

Let me tell you a story. After all, it’s what I do.

It’s about Rusted Souls, the final Tom Harper book which will appear in a little under three months.

Actually, it’s about the writing of it. What you’ll see in the bookshops and libraries is a long way from how the book originally began. This was the opening of the first version:

The meeting was nearly over when Miss Sharp rushed into the room, her face anxious. Harper stopped talking and nodded as she whispered in his good ear. Barely a moment and she was gone again, leaving him scowling. The door closed behind her with a soft click. The room was quiet, the heads of each police division in Leeds waiting expectantly.

‘The jury’s just delivered its verdict.’ He paused and drew in a breath. ‘You won’t like it. Not guilty.’

He had the superintendents together, the way he did every Monday morning. Now they all began to speak at once, a clamour of voices that twisted together in outrage and fury. Twelve good people and true had decided that there wasn’t enough evidence to convict Harry Ryder of the attempted murder of Constable Albert Hardisty. For Christ’s sake, he thought: the policeman had been shot twice in the back; he’d never be fit enough to return to work. Ryder had been discovered with the pistol in his hand. Yet somehow the jury had found him not guilty.

I wrote the whole book, right down to the ending, then set it aside in September 2021, a long time ago now. I’d intended to let it marinate for a month, then come back and revise it. But a month passed, then another, and still I didn’t touch it.

It took a little while, but I came to realise that Tom Harper needed something better for the end of his career. All that remains of that early attempt is the title, and I’d settled on that long, long ago.

Tom had been a member of Leeds City Police for 40 years. He’d risen from constable to chief constable, a remarkable thing for a man who grew up in the poor streets of the Leylands. His wife was…well, no spoilers.

He deserved to leave with dignity, head held high. Tom Harper deserved his elegy, and that early attempt wasn’t it. It wasn’t a bad book; just not the one he deserved. I knew that everything had to be different. Like this:

Thompson’s secretary waved him through.

‘Close the door,’ the alderman told him. ‘Take a seat.’

‘You wanted to see me?’

Thompson didn’t reply, just gave a nod. Normally he was bluff, loud, rolling over everything in his path like one of the tanks the army had used in the war. Nothing stopped him. He was a big man, florid and hearty, with a large belly and quick, roaring laugh. But today he was hesitant, his body hunched in on itself.

‘Can you keep your mouth shut?’

‘I always have,’ Harper replied. ‘You ought to know that.’

Thompson fixed him with a glare. ‘Then make sure it stays that way.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’ Nothing good, that much was certain.

The alderman took a few breaths before he could bring himself to answer. ‘I’m being blackmailed.’

Whatever Harper expected, it hadn’t been that. Thompson had always seemed too shrewd to leave himself open to anything like blackmail. The kind who planned five or ten moves ahead and always made certain to cover himself. A man who left nothing to chance.

Humiliation showed on his face.

‘We can arrest them, take them to court,’ Harper said. ‘It’s a crime —’

‘No.’ The word came out harshly. ‘No,’ Thompson repeated more softly. ‘Nothing public.’

‘Then it’s going to be difficult. You must realize that.’

‘Of course I bloody do.’ Fire flickered across his face. ‘Why do you think I’ve come to you?’

And so it starts…At heart an elegy, tempered with sorrow and grief rather than fired by anger. An elegy not just for Tom, but also Annabelle, and Mary. And, perhaps, for Leeds, as it begins to recover from the Great War and the Spanish flu.

I hope you like it. For reviewers and bloggers, Rusted Souls is now available on NetGalley. You can, of course, pre-order from your local independent bookshop, or the cheapest price online is here (with free UK postage). I know many can’t afford books, but your library will order a copy for you.

However it reaches you, I honestly hope you like it and how it all turns out. They all deserve grace.

An Exhibition And Event

As you may know. September will mark the publication of Rusted Souls, the 11th and final Tom Harper novel. Set in 1920, it takes place at the very end of Tom’s career. He’s now Chief Constable of Leeds, but there are still three cases he wants resolved before he walks into retirement.

If you’re registered on NetGalley with Severn House, the book is now available to read. I hope you will, and leave a review; that would be hugely appreciated.

To makr the end of this era, I’m working with the excellent Leeds Libraries on an event an exhibition in early October. The working title is A Copper’s View: Leeds Through Tom Harper’s Eyes, 1890-1920. It’s going to highlight some of the real Leeds history from the books, using photos from the Leodis photo archives and artefacts from different collections. It should be a unqiue glimpse into 30 years of great changes in our city.

There will also be an event in the Family History Library of the Central Library – where the exhibition takes place. I’ll be going through the things we’ve used and how they relate to the books, and to Tom and, of course, Annabelle and Mary. Expect something very personal, including Annabelle’s election as a Poor Law Guardian and the Victoria public house. The exact date is yet to be confirmed, but it’ll be in the first two weeks of April. The should be plenty of places, and it will be free, but you’ll need to reserve a seat. There may even be a couple of special guests. We’ll see.

In the meantime, if you’re not on NetGalley, you can pre-order Rusted Souls. If you’re in the UK, the cheapest hardback price, by far, is here, and includes free postage. It’s good, worth your money, I promise you that. If you haven’t begun the series yet, both Gods of Gold and Two Bronze Pennies, the first two Harper books, are currently £2.84 each for Kindle.

Leeds Moral And Industrial Training School

Never heard of it? Probably not too surprisng, it’s not a name that trips easily off the tongue. These days it’s Lincoln Wing, part of St. James’ Hospital, the oldest part by far, as if it was built in the 1840s.

Back then, Burmantofts was countryside, with much cleaner air than in the centre of Leeds itself. The town – later a city – grew around it. It was put up with a lofty aim, to offer a better place for those children crammed in the old workhouse on Lady Lane a better place to grow up. Opened it 1848, it was home to 499 children, offering them a cleaner, airier, more salubrious place to grow up and training the trades that were intened to stop them ending up in the workhouse themselves. Garden, tailoring, domestic service, shaekaking, mining, dressmaking were all taught.

By the start of the 20th century, many of the children had been moved to to houses or normal streets, attending school in everyday clothes, instead of uniforms, and the opening of a children’s home on Street Lane removed the rest. Other had been placed in homes in Canada – not always happily – or, through religious charities with families in Whitby.

It would become the informary for the workhouse, then part of East Leeds Military Hospital during World War I.

The Dark Arches

The Dark Arches…spooky name, isn’t it? But it’s a spooky place, built in the late 1860s when Leeds acquired a second railway station, known as New Station. The arches, which are really viaducts, held up the platforms and the trackm and go over the river and the goit that served the old King’s Mill.

It took around 18 million bricks to construct the arches, and if you look up, the construction is as grand as any cathedral. The arches were used by firms for storage, often of flammable material like tallow and resin. In January 1892, a fire broke out in the arch warehouse belonging to “Soapy” Joe Watson. Three platforms were destroyed, but miraculously, only one foreman died.

The other three plaform stayed open,as did Wellington Station, and rebuilding work began immediately. The fire features in the opening of my book Skin Like Silver.

The arches were pitch dark at night, a favourite haunt of thieves and sex workers for decades.

Eventually, the area beyond was developed into Granary Wharf, and by the 90s, the arches were craft and food shops that delined. These days it’s offices and a way through to Granary Whaft, the start of the Leeds-Liverpool canal, and over into Holbeck.

Time for the weekly reminder that I do have rather a good book out, featuring Simon Westow, the thief-taker, and his assistant Jane, up against a gang of grave robbers in Leeds in the 1820s…

A Stone For The Dead Who Didn’t Exist

Here’s an oddity: a stone erected in 1812 to commemorate an event that might have happened early in 1643, during the Civil War.

Confused yet?

Let me give you some brief background. Sir William Savile occupied Leeds. He was a Royalist, loyal to Charles. Meanwhile, the Parliamentarians, commanded by Sir Thomas Fairfax were approach, determined to take the town. Savile had thrown up defences: to the west, a trench that ran from St. John’s Church down to the river, another trench to the north, and one on the Leeds side of the bridge across the Aire.

The attack was coming…

The tale goes that the night before, a Parliamentary patrol on Woodhouse Ridge saw some Royalist troops down by Meanwood Beck – where Meanwood Road is now, close to Batty’s Wood.

They attacked, and Charles’ men scattered, running as far as Carr Manor fields, about half a mile. There at least one of them died.

The next day, in a snowstorm, the Roundheads began their attack on Leeds, from the west and the south. A preacher, shouting out Psalm 68, led the men across Leeds Bridge. They captured the cannon shooting at them, and fought house by house up Briggate until they met the forces that had advance from the west. Savile (who himself had taken Leeds a few months earlier) escaped, along with the Vicar of Leeds.

Back to Carr Manor fields.

There is no documentary evidence of the Battle of Meanwood/Battle of Stainbeck/Battle of Batty’s Wood. It’s legend. Myth. However, musket balls have been found in the dirt by the beck, giving some truth to it all.

There’s absolutely no evidence of any bodies on the field. But in 1812, the Oates family had the stone erected on their land – they owned much of the area, including what is now Meanwood Park.

The Latin inscription translates as Neither do the lands know themselves in the turning of the year. Very enigmatic. But perhaps that’s apt for a commemoration of someone who probably never existed, and an event that may or may not have happened.

Forgive finishuing with an ad, but The Dead Will Rise was published in March, and I’d love for you to read. It dages for just a few years after this stone was erected.

From Fortress To Manor House To Music Hall To Pub

The Scarbrought Hotel (please note the spelling), or Scarbrough Taps as it’s long been known, is one of those public houses with a beautiful tile frontage. Right by the station, it seems to do good business.

All very pleasant. But the site has a longer history than most places it Leeds. It began not long after the Norman Conquest, when the garrison stationed here built their fortress right here, with the sire aptly known as Castyle Hill. It commanded a good view, rised up from the river, easy access to the water, and enough distance from the locals – whose village was on Kirkgate.

Go forward, and it became the Leeds manor house, built by Ralph Paynel after any danger of insurrection had faded. Over the centures it underwent a few rebuilds, and became a very genteel residence in the 1500s, then completely redone in the 1700s. During work around the area, evidence of the moast that had once sat around the old manor house was found.

By the 1820s it was an inn known as the King’s Arms, with Henry Scarbrough as its landlord. Later in the century it was acquired by the man who owned City Varieites Music Hall, and who gave it its new name. He held talent shows upstairs and it became a music hall until the bottom fell out of the business and it reverted to being simply a public house.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Scarbrough Hotel.

I hope you won’t forget that a new book of mine came out in March. None of it is set in the old inn, but it’s good, nonetheless!

Jenny White: A Leeds Tale

Another video for you this week. But it’s not a piece of Leeds history. Intead, it’s my retelling of a Leeds folktale. For some reason, there are very few that are associated with Leeds, so it’s important to keep telling them and keep them alive.

A warning, though: it’s a story filled with sorrow.

Jenny White

While I’ve got you here…please remember that The Dead Will Rise isn’t even two months old yet, and I’d love for you to buy a copy, or have your local library order it in for you. Then, in September, the final Tom Harper book, Rusted Souls, is coming. It’s not too early to pre-order a copy. But please, at the moment, not from Amazon UK. My publisher is trying to get Amazon to resolve a glitch which has them charging way over the last price for the book. Order it, yes, but from someone else. Independent bookshops are always best!

Leeds Outdoor Market, 1870

I’ve always loved the outdoor market. It seems to be the closest we’ll get to the days when people set up on either side of Briggate and peddled their wares, centuries ago. There’s been an outdoor market in pretty much the same place for a long time, and I can take you back to experience it thanks to a description of the place and the characters in 1870.

Come out, hear tghe cries, meet the people. Enjoy a savoury trundle, hear about Jack the Giant-Killer and meet the Monster of the Deep. Bring your pennies.

Leeds outdoor market

While you’re here, the date for the launch of the final Tom Harper book, Rusted Souls, has been set. No tickets yet, but very limited seating. If you’re anywhere near Leeds, I hope you’ll come. It’s on the events page.

And The Dead Will Rise is still only a month old. I honestly hope you’ll buy it, and not just because my royalties for the last six months of 2022 were very low. I think it’s a fine, fine book. But no hardback from Amazon UK please. Go to an independent bookshop or here to Speedy Hen. Cheapest price and free UK postage.