Fiona Walker's Blog, page 5

A Video: Writing Inspiration, Displacement and Gregory Peck

Like many authors, when I’m stuck writing a particularly difficult section of a novel, I displace. In the good old pre-WiFi days, this involved watching daytime television and cleaning around the loo – anything to avoid tackling the twisted plot – but then the web became our all-consuming lifeforce and I joined the creative tribe who waste lengthy hours procrastinating online, or as we prefer to call it, ‘research’. Self-justification’s an important element to displacement: Rightmove’s a vital resource for creating settings; Netflix is storytelling straight into the vein; weeping over one’s Amazon reviews inspires one to do better; social media, meanwhile, is all about author visibility. And the Mail Online – as shamefully, secretly addictive for many as porn or funny cat compilations on YouTube – is the very bedrock of writer’s block. Like a syrup-of-figs-and-castor-oil protein shake, if the Sidebar of Shame can’t get you moving again, nothing can. Unless, of course, it takes longer to load the front page than it took the subs to write it…

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When we moved to this house and discovered it took all day to download The Archers podcast, I’d hoped one upside to our glacially slow rural internet speed would be the Brontë-like simplicity of purpose it brought to my working day. Instead, it simply takes ten times as long as my fellow procrastinating writers to ‘research’.

[image error]At times like this, having written myself firmly into a corner, watching in despair as the busy cursor spins round refusing to show me pictures of a five-bedroomed farmhouse in the Cotswolds where I can imagine my family my heroine’s family living, I remind myself through gritted teeth that it’s worth the wait because the Internet is full of essential support, insight and a great many brightly coloured pie-charts for writers in stasis. Some examples are here, Googled at my desk in slightly less time than it would take to drive to the local town to use Waitrose’s superfast wifi, enjoy free coffee while online, do a full weekly shop, then drive home the scenic route:

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My new tactic is only allowing myself displacement activities that are irrefutably related to my books and writing career, like this blog. To this end, I’ve just put together a video for all writers who might also occasionally feel we’ve lost the plot and are in need of a little inspiration and guidance.

Creating it has reminded me why I love doing this job, not least because old movies are one of the cocktails that knock the Mail Online’s shake off the menu. Uploading the b. thing to YouTube also usefully hogged all our narrow country lane’s bandwidth for six hours solid, transforming my plotting shed into a metaphysical garret of silence and concentration. I could do with making one every day to carry on this trend, but I’m dying to get back to the book, so I’m just turning off the router instead. Normal service will resume soon…

Tweeds, Tails and Paperback Jacket.

 

In February, I blogged about the photo-shoot for the paperback jacket of The Country Set, which was enormous fun and heroically warm-hearted despite a very cooold day. Not that you’d know the Beast from the East was just over the horizon from the gorgeously classy and just slightly steamy finished cover, starring two ravishing real-life event riders, Claire Deuten and Spencer Sturmey, and darling Toots the spaniel who had just become a new mum.

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With all Toots’ puppies now rollicking around in their new homes, the sun finally blazing, the toenails painted and the grass growing, it really feels like summer’s on its way, doesn’t? I’m rooting for the renaissance of the big British romp across the worlds’ sunbeds, deckchairs and garden benches this year. Goodness knows we all need cheering up.

The Country Set will be coming out in paperback on 14th June. You can click on Toots below to pre-order.

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Wailing at the Mailing List

Abuse is a harsh word. It speaks of deliberate cruelty: child abuse, animal abuse, emotional abuse. Awful, unforgivable acts. If trust is abused, it’s very hard to earn it back.

I’ve been guilty of some rather disreputable behaviour in my life, from dropping the F-bomb at the Vine and Craven Pony Club Camp aged eight (in my defence, I had no idea what it meant) to tweeting aged forty-eight that I wish Shula from The Archers would spontaneously combust on Brian’s chemical waste dump. But being termed abusive this week came as a deep shock. I couldn’t be more contrite. In fact, I’d love to take the last few days back and do it all again differently, but it’s too late now and I’m no longer allowed to personally contact those involved to make amends.

I’m going to explain what happened both as a cautionary tale, and by way of an apology.

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I’d better start by pointing out that halfway through writing a novel is always a very dangerous time for me to attempt anything more technical on a computer than splitting an infinitive. Even my spellchecker blue screens me. With my head in an imaginary world, I’m incapable of navigating my way around Tesco.com, let alone GDPR, which I’d have probably suggested was a Warmblood studbook if you’d asked me a few weeks ago.

 

 

GDPR is, in fact, the shiny new data protection rules that come into force next month, and it’s important to get them right, especially if you’re a writer in sudden possession of a website subscription list containing several thousand precious names and email addresses. These addresses belong to lovely visitors to fionawalker.com like you, who once filled in a secure form like the one linked from this page to receive newsletters boasting sneak previews, exclusive offers and a tip-off when a new book is coming out. Until last week, the list was entirely managed by my previous publisher who ran my website for several years and looked after newsletters as part of their marketing wizardry. As someone who still sends hand-written notes whenever possible, I’ve always seen this newsletter list like a Christmas card one: a community of far-flung allies receiving a regular Round Robin.

When I redesigned fionawalker.com, I asked if the list could be transferred to me to carry on the newsletters. The contractual to-ing-and-froing that followed has amazed me; I’d understand it if I worked for Zuckerberg, but I hadn’t even got to the Mail Subscribers page in WordPress for Dummies. Of course, the law is there to protect all of us so I stuck with my quest in the belief that anybody who has taken the time to sign up to hear my news shouldn’t be abandoned. And loyal readers deserve all the love in the world.

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Many months of legalese later, the list was finally released last week, securely data transferred via all sorts of secure online geekery that severely tested both the rural broadband and my rural brain. Looking at all the names, I was as excited as I would be seeing Harry and Meghan’s guest list.

It came with the strict caveat that I must contact every name on it straight away to make sure subscribers want to stay opted in before the new data protection laws start in May. In a flap, I sped-read WordPress for Dummies. It’s a very long list of emails, and I’m right in the middle of writing a very long novel; my Tesco.com grocery success rate is at an all-time low. But I really, really didn’t want to get this wrong, especially as I’m notorious for accidentally pressing Reply All with a sarcastic aside intended for just one, or for sharing random photographs of the inside of my handbag with WhatsApp groups.

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I worked incredibly hard to meet all the data protection requirements. I set about mastering MailChimp, a mass email platform. I mugged up on GDPR compliance. I wrote and rewrote my first email to subscribers inviting them to stay opted in. I spent more hours on it than a key chapter in the book, and when I was satisfied that it was bright and cheery and self-effacingly eager to offer everyone the chance to unsubscribe at the touch of a button, I sent it off. You may well have received one (check your spam folder if not, because I think 99% of them landed there). I knew I’d lose a lot of people – it’s been over a year since the old website was regularly administered, and I had no way of finding out when the last newsletter was sent – but I was confident I’d still have a thousand or more by the end.

Within hours, the word ‘abuse’ appeared in the subject line of an email from MailChimp. My account had been restricted as a result of a ‘high abuse complaint rate’, they explained. I was mortified. Was I being accused of sending abusive emails? I’ve never in my life written a poison pen letter or left anything less than a four-star TripAdvisor or Amazon review. I checked the message I’d sent again in case I’d mistyped the ‘d’ as an ‘f’ in ’mild’ or missed the ‘o’ out of ‘countryside’, but I could see nothing. In a panic, I read all the MailChimp links explaining how this might have happened. Although less than 0.7% of the mail-out had been reported as unwanted, that is well above the industry standard, which was why I’d been immediately blacklisted. This, they said, is usually an issue with the list rather than the message. Every name on it would be automatically unsubscribed with immediate effect, although I could send one final pre-designed ‘sorry to see you go!’ message to all. Head hanging, this is what I did. Now the list is no more.

 

 

Not long afterwards, I received a direct email from one previous subscriber, a regular reader of my books, saying that she had signed up for newsletters years ago but had never received a single one. Another subscriber emailed soon afterwards saying the same thing. Then a third, quite angry this time. It seemed readers who had subscribed in good faith expecting newsletters from me had heard nothing in years until I send this cheery, cocky request to stay subscribed. I’m still not sure how it qualifies as abuse – except of trust on more than one level – but I can absolutely understand why recipients might be pretty miffed and not want to hear from me again. It doesn’t matter that I first set eyes the list just a few days ago. This website has my name on it, and it is my responsibility to make sure that if something is offered, it’s followed through.

 

 

There’s a new link to a subscriber form on the sidebar below this blog, and anybody brave enough to fill it in will definitely receive newsletters from me. They will be written by me, sent by me and badly spell-checked by me. I will never disclose or sell your data to a third party, and every email I send will have an ‘unsubscribe’ link. There’ll only be two or three a year at most, and I’ll go quiet when I’m busy writing then get very excited when a new book comes out. According to MailChimp, now that I’ve been blackballed, I have to earn back my clean record, which means ‘re-establishing a good sending and engagement history’. I’m very grateful to all you who are willing to help me do this by subscribing, and I will do my damndest to make you feel just as loved as everyone on my Christmas card list. If you were on the old list and want to come back, I’ll welcome you with open arms (and I’m v grateful to those of you who already have). As for the one or two that reported me for abuse, I think it safe to assume that you were at the 1978 Vine and Craven Pony Club Camp.

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You can join my mailing list by clicking here or using the form linked below.

Royalty, Romance and a Little Stick of Blackpool Rock…

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If you live anywhere near Blackpool, love going to Blackpool or – like me – have amazingly never visited Blackpool and think it should be on your bucket (and spade and kiss-me-quick-hat) list, then please come along to join in the fun on Tues 15th May. The brilliant organisers of Wordpool Festival are throwing a glamorous G and Tea launch party from 6.30pm in the Stanley Park Cafe to celebrate the start of three days of author talks and events.

It’s Royal Wedding week so they’ll be dusting down the Daulton and hanging up the bunting, and we’re all invited to don formals and florals, and to toast romance. There’s a free cocktail and fashionably late tea for all, along with lashings of laughter and fun. Hosted by Hayley Kay of Radio Wave, I’ll be there along with the brilliant Carole Matthews, which means it can only be a riotous giggle.

Tickets are £12. Click the picture below to link to the website, or call 01253 478091

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Cover Story

This week, in a remote corner of Shakespeare Country, an intrepid team gathered to shoot the Compton series’ paperback jackets. The brief was straightforward: bottoms, horses, countryside, good spirits, laughter, dogs and more bottoms.

Hero of the hour was dashing photographer, Hugh Dickens, the most charming man you’ll see adjusting an aperture in a lifetime, and – despite being more accustomed to snapping polo ponies passing at speed in the glamorous surroundings of Cirencester Park – endlessly patient.

Art director Jessie Price, who had gamely forfeited the more usual London photography studio for arctic wind and mud, ensured everything was perfect to set the scene: good-looking people, check; horses, check; dogs, check; bright sunshine, check.

Impossibly gorgeous event riders Claire Deuten and Spencer Sturmey sauntered, canoodled, hacked, quaffed and gossiped like mad in the name of art. They were ably assisted by Claire’s superstar coloured stallion Tonto, rangy grey Captain and beautiful powerhouse Lottie. Keeping everybody under close watch was Toots the Sprocker, who combined starring on camera with trotting lovingly back and forth to feed her three-week-old litter in the house. It was a real family affair.

I can’t wait to reveal the finished result, which the brilliant Jessie is currently weaving magically into life as the paperback jacket for The Country Set, but for now here are a few edited highlights of the day:

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My New Year Blog On, January 2018

It’s snowdrop time again, which means family and friends won’t get much sense out of me until the bluebells are out. This is the time of year when I forsake everything tangible in favour of a fictional life; my plots are twisted all over the place as I talk to imaginary friends non-stop and pound out thousands of words a week. I’m at full flow, characters running in and out of my head, notes everywhere, the chaos that’s jumbling its way on to the screen making sense only to me.

‘First draft in three months’ time!’ I predict optimistically, crossing out more and more lines from my synopsis. Do we really need the village talent contest subplot? And just who am I supposed to pair the playboy farrier off with in the loved-up ending? I quickly lose grip on the daily routine, its dog-walk-school-run-supper-cooking rhythm fading beneath keyboard taps.

Writers are often portrayed as hell to live with, but in my case, it’s the not living with me that causes problems as I vanish into my plotting shed for long stretches at a time. I’m a demanding mother, hopeless delegator, pernickety perfectionist and I rarely ever sit down unless I’m writing. Family life doesn’t stop functioning when I’m gone, but there’s a definite shift. At first, it’s a gently debauched slide: oranges sit still in their mesh sacks in the fruit bowl, homework books aren’t signed, pot plants droop and towels live in damp colonies on the floor. By the time I deliver the first draft, we’ll be lucky if school sports bags contain more than one filthy sock and someone else’s polo shirt. By rewrites, nobody will have seen the pet hamster in weeks and the peace lily will have pegged it. By copy edit, the children will be feral.

This book is the second in my Comptons series, following straight on from The Country Set. After years starting each new novel by drawing a map, it’s heaven having a ready-made fictional village to revisit, better still to be reunited with so many familiar characters whose worlds I can occupy vicariously. Here’s where I admit that like many writers, I’m a great believer in self-fulfilling prophecies, and more than once over the years my life has spookily come to imitate my art after a book is published (although not yet by owning a Badminton winner or eloping in a hot air balloon, sigh). In the Country Set, I introduced Petra the naughty historical novelist, also a busy mum and confirmed shed worker, yet one capable of arranging oranges in a fruit bowl as artistically as Gaugin in between bodice-ripping chapters. Despite her complicated fantasy life, riotous children and rebellious horse, she writes a novel in three months flat. I’m hopeful this will work like a spell on my own working life. If it does, I’m giving her an unexpected film deal and a holiday in the Bahamas in the third book.

In other news, the export edition of The Country Set is now out, a gorgeously big, glossy paperback available to readers in Australia, Canada, New Zealand, South Africa and beyond, as well as departure-side at British airports. Here it is:

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The UK paperback of The Country Set, meanwhile, is published in June, its cover a closely guarded – and rather exciting – secret. Watch this space for a sneak peak in coming weeks.

I’ve also been asked a few times about the audio edition, and the good news is it’s imminent. It’s just taking the narrator rather a long time to read all 800 pages of it aloud, I’m told…

Finally, before I whisk off to give Petra dewier skin and an overriding desire to own a four-star event horse, I’d like to wish a very happy 2018 to all the fionawalker.com website visitors who read this. I hope you come back again soon (and if you want the heads up next time I blog on, just press the ‘follow ‘ button).

A Cotswold jaunt to ignite the festive mood…

Next Weds 8th November, I’ll be joining the Borzoi Book Shop team on their stand at the Daylesford Cotswold Christmas fair, so please do come along if you can.

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It’s a gorgeous event – three days of full-on gift shopping with a positive panoply of fine crafts, food, furnishings, accessories, toys and jewellery on sale – and, of course, sumptuous books to give to loved ones, or enjoy yourself, at least one of which is helpfully set in the Cotswolds with a big, bouncy, bauble-decked Christmas ending.

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Tickets to the event all raise money for WellChild. As well as hundreds of stalls, there are workshops and demos, tasting sessions, and there might even be a few famous local faces milling about…

 

For lots more information about the event, and about Daylesford and WellChild, visit the website: https://cotswoldfair.com/

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Bigging up books

It’s my tradition when a new Fiona Walker hardback launches to share the love. This year, that means Big Love.

We all know that chocolate biscuits, confectionary and bottled drinks are getting smaller as shrinkflation keeps on thinning down the goodies, and novels are no exception. The all-absorbing, family-sized read is an increasingly rare luxury, and one with gorgeous maps on its end pages, a cast list, a silky sewn-in bookmark and pages as soft as damask is heaven. Indeed, a fully-loaded posh hardback is so plumptious you could almost sleep in it.

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Like rare draught horses, Land Rovers, vinyl LPs and long Sunday lie-ins, big hardback novels sometimes struggle to fit into a modern world. And yet they offer so much joyful escapism, weeks of pleasure and a lifetime of lessons.

Like how to be a be a hero (preferably in breeches)…

…for which you need a lot of sex appeal (and, ideally, a horse)…

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If you have a superstar horse, even better…

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…and a party trick will raise spirits every time:

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A little nostalgia works wonders:

Remember, a big, escapist read can cheer up even the most broken-hearted of women:

And if you read The Country Set and like it, do please tell your friends and family; word of mouth is the most honest and lovely review:

But be careful, because once you start reading, you may find it hard to put down, no matter what you’re doing.

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Thank you to everyone who buys my big hardback. Sleep well.

A video to introduce The Country Set

I’ve made a short vlog which, like doctors Who, Foster and Caligari, I can only watch from behind a sofa cushion. If you’re brave enough to sit through it, you’ll note there are a few key differences – an absence of qualified medics for one – but I nevertheless like to think of Max the Shetland and myself as time-travelling avengers. We’re reclaiming the right to the romp, that wonderfully British fictional world in which characters get horny on damson gin and flirt in welly socks:

Tomorrow is the official hardback launch of The Country Set, a day known in the book trade as Super Thursday because more hardbacks come out than at any other time of year, a stampede of colourfully jacketed tortoises, all aiming for bestseller stardom by Christmas. While I don’t anticipate renewing that giddy climb just yet – it’s only in my daydreams that I gallop past every book with Girl, Train, Next Door and Highway Code in the title, get interviewed by Melvyn and am hailed as the new Barbara Pym – I’m gearing up for an excitable jaunt around social media in the coming days.

So if you enjoy bite-sized musings and digital schmoozing, please look out for updates on this blog and on media feeds. Max will be making more appearances, has demanded his own dressing room, and already has an impressive portfolio of Outtakes. Should you think all this self-promotion is a lot of puff, however, then I totally understand if you quickly scroll on, but do give the book a go. It’s pure autumnal escapism, and don’t we all need some of that?

The fionawalker.com makeover.

To celebrate next month’s publication of The Country Set, I’m launching the revamped fionawalker.com: a Google-friendly goody-bag of book jackets and character sketches, latest news, vintage blogs, book blurbs and insider information – all wrapped up in more homespun, organic, Farrow and Ball yumminess than a Cotswold farm shop. Welcome! And let me introduce my latest book…

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The Country Set, published on 5th October, is the first novel in the Comptons series, a big-cast rural romp guaranteed to take you on a muddy-faced gallop through country life.

 

[image error]Full-sized, bouncy and moreish, it’s a box set of a book, jam-packed with episodes. Old friendships and new flirtations abound, along with secrets and rivalries, plus horses, dogs, parties, lots fast riding and fully-loaded guns…

This autumn’s gorgeous hardback – which comes complete with map and family trees – is the ‘directors cut’; subsequent editions will be a few scenes lighter to fit in beach bags. So if you want the luxuriously unabridged story, order it now – I hope you’ll agree it’s perfect for curling up with in front of the fire as the nights draw in.

Meanwhile, please do explore the all-new website. You can read more about the Comptons where the new series is set, look at the village map, and find out about some of the families who live there. There’s information about all my seventeen previous books from French Relations to The Weekends of You and Me, along with excerpts and an insider author view of each one.

If you’d like to see anything else on these pages, ask anything about my books and writing, or just say hello, don’t hesitate to use the contact page or the social media links. There’s nothing that cheers a writer more than getting a message. And I really hope you visit again soon.

To pre-order The Country Set in hardback from Amazon, please click below:

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