Jen Black's Blog, page 66

Floods

Over the weekend we had floods. On the national news Carlisle, Appleby and Keswick got all the attention, and of course they were badly hit again. But the river flooded at Prudhoe and the Old Station House and the house opposite must have been in five feet of water on Saturday night, and they too were hit
five years ago. Locations on the industrial estate were flooded and the Tyne was eighteen feet higher than normal. Perhaps not the highest ever, but certainly the highest since records have been kept.
The path I often walk with Tim is littered with rubbish which indicates the water would have been well over my head. People were evacuated in Ovingham, on the other side of the Tyne where the Whittle Burn comes down to the river. A horse was trapped in a field and died just after it was eventually rescued. At Corbridge, six miles away, the flood banks were overwhelmed and the new defence wall overtopped.  50 or more people were evacuated from the area around the Dyvels public House. They too suffered the same thing five years ago. Bellingham, Haydon Bridge and other small places suffered too. The suffering is the same, but the numbers are smaller so the tv cameras go where the numbers are highest. But don't think everywhere else got off Scot-free, because they did not.

A puzzle or not?

"Scientists have settled one of the great puzzles of pre-Gutenberg commercial publishing." 
This is how the article opens in the Guardian, so I sat down to read it. 
"Pocket Bibles, painstakingly inscribed by hand in their tens of thousands in the universities of Paris, Oxford and Padua, were made of vellum taken mostly from the hides of calf, sheep and goats, and then made ultra-thin by a process still unknown."
The article goes on for several paragraphs, but right at the end I discovered that the researchers had "found evidence for the equivalent of a set of 13th-century Europe-wide industry standards, defining the raw material for a labour-intensive copying system that published at least 20,000 Latin pocket Bibles for an eager market. But the technology remains elusive."
So they haven't solved the puzzle at all.  Surely we already knew it was mainly calf skin, with a some sheep and goat skins? The article goes on:
 “It was a craft industry where the skills have been handed down from father to son, and stay within families, and we don’t know how they did it anymore,” Experiments with descriptions found in medieval literature proved unhelpful.
“Clearly the people writing about them weren’t the people doing them: they heard at second hand. As a consequence they write things down which aren’t genuine recipes for parchment production.”
I might be forgiven for thinking the journalist who reported this in the Guardian is guilty of the same thing. The puzzle has not been solved.

Se the article here: http://www.theguardian.com/science/2015/nov/23/scientists-get-under-skin-13th-century-mystery-vellum-vulgate-bible

Promotion

New month, new targets.
Rule no 1: I must remember to promote my books.
It's difficult. There's no natural talent for promotion in any bone of my body and every tweet seems like a plea rather than a promotion. The fact that the way to do it seems to change every few months. Once yahoo groups seemed to be the answer but now they seem to be fading fast. Then it was Facebook and Twitter - much to the horror of certain people who thought promoting one's books on Twitter was beyond the pale. Didn't they realise Twitter was all about promotion, even if it was promotion of self? Funny how they rush to tell everyone how much they've drunk, eaten, spent and then condemn authors for promoting a good book.

So I shall have to do a little investigating and find out where the best people promote these days. If only I had Aidan Turner to promote for me, I'd be certain of success!

Say nothing at all

Memories of summerA  friend is upset because of a poor review. I sympathise. I've had some myself. We have to accept that not everyone has the same taste, in books, reading or in anything else, but some people seem so sure that the fault lies with the author and not with their own poor attention span or the fact that they chose the wrong book for their reading tastes?

These so-called reviews often consist of one star and one line, perhaps two, and  make no effort to describe the setting, the writing style or the story. They are not reviews at all, and Amazon ought not to publish them. The author probably took a year to write the book, and a one line bad-tempered comment is hardly a fair reward for that effort.

 Such people fail to find even one good point, but instead claim the book is boring, boring, boring, dismal rubbish, or words to that effect. All this in spite of the fact that the author has several good reviews from people who enjoyed the book and gave it five stars. Perhaps they don't read reviews before they buy? Perhaps they should. Or perhaps they just like writing miserable comments because it makes them feel better?
It's become a joke that there's always someone on the Trip Advisor website who rates the hotel or venue as one star with a catalogue of faults listed. I assume they were hoping to get their money back - and I hope they did not!

In these days of instant access to the world, it is so easy to rush into print if the slightest thing has niggled  your day. If causing pain and misery is your aim, then go ahead and write negative one-liners. The sensible ones among the reading public will take no notice of them, but simply sigh and say oh s/he must have had a rotten day to write something like that.

My mum always said "If you can't say something nice, say nothing at all." That's good advice for all of us.

Books galore!

On the right - a pile of books - my selection and how I spent almost all of my Amazon gift card! Missing from this is a dvd of the Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and a couple of titles that are yet to arrive from a subsidiary company. One Ian Rankin title I bought for a penny!

That's my Christmas reading sewn up and possibly for some weeks to come! I received the first Christmas Card today and attended a Christmas wreath making demonstration plus lunch at http://www.bradley-gardens.co.uk/ today. A very good lunch it was too, with Chicken in pastry with a glass of white wine, followed by vanilla brulee.  The demonstration was very good but I'm not sure how much decoration I shall do. Perhaps a wreath for the front door - but it won't be as grand as the one made today - white roses and orchids went into the table centrepiece. I forgot to check and see if I still have some holly with its berries - the blackbirds may have nicked them all. Not that I begrudge them a few berries. I'll track some down while I'm out with Tim if necessary.

Trumpet blowing

If this is blowing one's own trumpet, the so be it! I was happy to receive this review this morning, so here it is in all its glory!

tinyurl.com/ox5fy75  Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta)Amazon.com: 4.7 out of 5 stars  3 reviews4.0 out of 5 stars 23 Nov. 2015By Viviane Crystal - Published on Amazon.comFormat:Kindle Edition
Daisy is an 18 year-old woman who lives in the aristocratic world of Victorian England. She dreams of entering art school and developing her already adept skills, but this is a dream clearly frowned upon by almost everyone in her society. It’s one thing to dabble in painting and drawing, quite another for a woman to have a career outside of being a wife, mother, teacher or governess. Her dream is challenged by the appearance of Adam Grey, a successful mine owner, who has scrabbled his way upward after being desperately poor as a result of the failed family business. Initially, he seems like a cold, calculating, even brash young man but he is almost immediately smitten by this out-spoken yet sensitive woman, Daisy.
Into the mix a series of art and money thefts occurs. The thief is not evident because so many members of the upper class are always visiting each other for days on end. When Daisy is invited to paint an entire wall at the home of one of these aristocrats, danger explodes. An accident in a newfangled elevator, a fall, and more are added to the intense stress. Adam has taken on the job of detective, as he has nothing to do at the moment, to discover the thief and then the attacker of Daisy.
Adam and Daisy, however, are definitely attracted to each other and yet their meetings socially and privately crackle with misunderstanding and snapping conversations. Daisy, however, in spite of being cast in a manner far from her real personality, holds firm to her dream for the future and her dignity when insulted by many. Her strength is challenged further when a powerful man, Maitland, accosts Daisy several times with clear intentions of sexually possessing her while in his disgustingly perpetually alcoholic state.
This reviewer posted a review of Jen Black’s first novel many years ago and is happy to say that the writing style and plot complexity have significantly grown in this latest novel. Readers will relish the evolving love affair and the mystery radiating through every page of this pleasing Victorian novel. Very nicely crafted, Jen Black!

That wonderful thing

The format of that wonderful thing, the book, is just great and doesn't, in my view, need further changes. The Bookseller this week is claiming otherwise : article

There's so much already that comes via a small screen as well as a large one these days that I find it a relief to turn to a lovely old-fashioned book and read steadily without flicking a screen change every few seconds. Having music with it would be an intrusion, adverts even worse and surely if it has moving pictures it is encroaching on the film world?

Audio-books are OK. Not that I use them, as I need to sit down and concentrate and I'd rather do that with a printed page. I dare not listen while I'm driving, as my concentration would deviate from the road to the scenes in my head - with possible dreadful consequences!

The pic on the right is courtesy of Chris Appleby - he took this while on the Dally Rally. Tim was no longer the pristine white he was when he set off that Sunday morning - but once he was dry it all brushed off. He's been ravenous ever since! This morning dh brought in the remains of a leather purse I bought years ago on the Isle of Skye. It survived several adventures including being left under the bed in a Conall B&B and kindly posted back to me - only to be eaten by Tim. Half of the leather purse is gone, missing, absent, lost, and without doubt now resides in Tim's tummy. He left behind some soggy leather, the two first class stamps that were inside, the 2p coins and a small key. Obviously no taste in those!

Dally Rally

Did something new on Sunday - attended a Dally Rally. For those not in the know, this is a Dalmatian Rally where Dalmatian owners congregate on a nice open space and walk their dogs. Sounds simple enough. Exciting for the first time Dalmatian!
 The Rally was at Weetslade Country Park near Cramlington and about 23 Dalmatians and their owners turned up at 11am.  It was quite a sight.
I had wondered if I would be able to recognise Tim when he was in among all the other spotty dogs, but there is such variation in the size of the dogs and their individual pattern of spots that it wasn't a problem at all.

It was a dull, cloudy day and the ground was waterlogged after so much rain. That wasn't a problem. Wherever we walked, the problem would have been the same, and Dalmatians need their daily exercise. Everyone was equipped with waterfproofs and wellies and prepared to give their dogs a bath when they got home.  The fact that quite a few had become grey or even black dogs just seemed funny, because others stayed spotlessly (sorry!) white. Tim was raring to go while on the lead so I let him loose so he could run with the others, who were haring off in all directions. He ran a little way and then hesitated, not knowing which way to go or which dog to follow. Then he turned round and couldn't see me in all the confusion. Panic! He set off at top speed back to the car which all things considered was a sensible move on his part, except that I was only ten feet away in the opposite direction! Lots of calls and whistles brought him back. Every time he lost sight of me there was a moment of panic, but eventually he got the idea and began to run with the others. He and a young lady called Nova seemed to take a fancy to each other. It was such fun for him, and next time he'll be more confident. The added plus was that he slept for the rest of the day!

Free promos

Free promos on Kindle have certainly changed in four or five years. The first time I got one organised was back in March 2011, and nearly 18,000 downloads went out on one historical romance. The numbers changed on the screen as I watched it, which was one of the most exciting things I've ever seen. Even Germany downloaded 93 copies, and France, Italy and Spain all participated. A contemporary story proved much less popular, but compared to the figures today, did very well.

Now, from my perspective at least, downloading free books is much less popular. Perhaps, like me, people have kindles full of free titles they haven't yet read. Perhaps readers have discovered how much dross there is out there. Maybe they think my stories are part of it! Whatever the reason, free promos have changed. Maybe the pendulum has swung and we're all going back to print books.

We've had rain and wind for days which means most of the leaves have disappeared now. They clog up the streams which are roaring down the valleys, scouring them clean after being dry for a good part of the summer.

How do you Write 3

My problem with old maps and gateways continued after I'd sent in the post. Found another map, this time drawn from the English perspective. A tad disconcerting in that the artist had obviously been sitting on a ladder at Leith and drew everything the other way around to the previous maps I'd seen. But it was dated 1544 and was drawn by the attacking English as they arrived to raze Edinburgh to the ground - exactly the time of my story! The map is in the British Library rather than the National Library of Scotland. It showed men attacking the gate - the Water Gate - yippee. I rushed off and re-wrote bits of the chapter to fit the new information.

Unfortunately it did not show the mysterious vanishing gate on the south side of the town. Even if it was there when the English artist arrived, it would not have shown on the drawing, since it was drawn from the northern side. So, I've sent my hero  another way - possibly using a bit of poetic licence, but I'm writing fiction after all. I almost started another hunt but decided to leave well alone. The pieces I found declared that no one quite knew the extent of the Nor Loch nor how long it had been there. They knew when it vanished (or drained away) but according to some it appeared rather suddenly in the 1400s, as a defence against raiders from the sea. Other reports said there had been a lake in much earlier times. So my hero got his feet wet.

Amazingly  my car reported an outside temperature of 17 degrees today when I was out for a walk, and it was gorgeous in the woods. The sun slanted down through the branches and the pathways are covered in gold because the wind had brought down all the yellow pine needles at once. (Actually they may be larch or spruce, but they look wonderful.)