Dan Smith's Blog, page 9

Irresistible Charms

Right then, I’m fifteen thousand words into the new novel (give or take) and things seem to be going pretty well, though it’s hard to be sure.

Y’see, starting a new book is always a mixed affair for me – a great big helping of excitement with an equal measure of nervousness stirred in. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a detailed planner when it comes to writing . . . well, actually, I’m not a detailed planner when it comes to anything, as my wife would happily shout from the rooftops . . . so I’m never quite sure how it’s going to turn out.

I don’t do much editing as I go along. I disappear into Danworld and try to let the story flow, writing every day, inserting notes for things that need to be addressed/researched later, and keep going until it’s done.

Then I go back and look over it.

And that’s the point when I get the ‘Wow, did I write that?’ or ‘Oh no, did I write that? What was I thinking?’ feelings and have to put it all right.

In that sense, I suppose the first draft of one of my novels is just a very detailed plan. So maybe I am a planner after all.

Who knows?

In the meantime, there has been a softening in the Smith household. I mentioned in my last post that Smiffy the hamster was a new addition here, despite my wife’s protests at having a ‘smelly little rodent’ in our home . . . well, guess what?

Yup. His cuteness is, apparently, undeniable.

Irresistible.

And I’ve caught my wife talking to him.

Many times.

In fact, she can hardly pass his cage without a quick look to see if he’s awake.

 

Ze laydeez – zey cannot rezist me.

 

That’s all.

The Velociraptor in the Corner

So, it is done. Finished. Over.

After all the excitement and build-up and preparation, it’s now gone. The air beds have been deflated, the turkey has been eaten, the chocolate has been hoarded and everybody has gone home. Well, we’ve gone home, that is. Y’see it was my Mum and Dad who had to inflate the air beds and cook the turkey and provide the hospitality, so after having a house full of people, it must be pretty peaceful for them now.

Yep, Christmas has gone in a flash and now we’ve come to the time of lists. TV will be full of them. Instead of the old films that are aired over Christmas, we’re passing into the phase of 2012 recaps. ’50 Best songs of 2012′, ’100 Funniest YouTube Clips of 2012′, ’50 most embarrassing celebrity moments of 2102 – that kind of thing. And then life will abruptly return to normal.

Except . . . now my wife has to live with ‘vermin’ in her house.

No, I’m not talking about me.

No, not the children either.

The ‘vermin’  is a little furry thing that sleeps in a cage in the corner of the room and represents a lot of nagging from my daughter.

My wife finally caved-in and agreed to have a hamster.

When we bought it from the shop, my wife curled her lip in disgust at its little paws and twitchy nose. She stepped back in fear when the woman took it from the cage. And she recoiled in horror at the thought of actually touching it. And O-M-G, ‘they can actually escape?’

Honestly, you’d think we were buying a velociraptor.

But I’ve seen her watching it. I’ve seen that expression soften. I’ve even seen her glance into the cage as she passes, to see if it’s awake.

At this rate, Smiffy might break through that tough exterior in . . . I dunno . . . a couple of years.

If he lives that long.

 

That’s all.

 

Red Winter Christmas Zombies

Forgive me. It has been almost three weeks since my last confession blog post.

The last few weeks have flashed by in a whirlwind of pre-Christmas . . . stuff. If you have children of a certain age, you’ll know what I mean. Christmas plays, carol concerts, music concerts, more carol concerts. And when you have TWO children of a certain age, the whole thing is doubled. Oh, and I have my wife to thank for volunteering me for a church reading, and then I edited my second children’s novel and sent it in for approval (finger-crossed for that one), and I received an editorial for my next adult book (no, not ‘adult‘ book, potty mind) and researching my next book and  . . .

Phew.

Well the good news is that the church reading didn’t end in me being struck down or turned into a pillar of salt as I had expected. I think I just about scraped through that one, but it might have been a close call.

PEZs – Post Editorial Zombies.

As for the editorial, well, it was a lot more detailed than I had expected, and needed to be completed in record time, so I stuck my head down, ignored my family and worked through from 5am to 9pm for ten days to complete it. I was, pretty much, a zombie by the time it was done but anyone who’s ever read my blog knows I have a soft spot for Zombies (and who doesn’t?), so maybe that’s no bad thing. And, just in time for the end of the world, too, eh?

Though, I’m not certain the Mayans foresaw a zombie apocalypse.

Anyway, the final result of the marathon edit session is a near final version of RED WINTER which will be published in July. It seems that everything about this book has been hard work but it’s shaping up really well and I think you’re going to like it. Oh, and don’t forget what Samuel Johnson said – I mean, how COULD you forget what he said, right?

‘What is written without effort is in general read without pleasure.’

So there.

On top of all that I’ve just seen some preliminary designs for the cover of my children’s novel (out in July, too!), and it’s looking great. Bold, colourful and exciting. I can’t wait to see the final version and share it with the world.

And that’s that. I’m done.

I hope you have an awesome Christmas, whatever you’re doing, and I’ll see you all when normality returns.

 

That’s all.

 

Fire and ACID

You know that expression about frying pans and fires? Yeah. That one. Well, I might have some first hand knowledge about that.

If you read my blog, you’ll know that I went into my son’s school to talk to a group of 6 and 7 year old boys about WW2. That was the frying pan. A kind of baptism of fire.

So this week I stepped into the fire. I went to my daughter’s school to talk to a class of 11 year old

My great-aunt the ack-ack gunner – that’s her on the far left!

girls about . . . well, about evacuees and air raids during WW2.

I should point out that I’m not an expert when it comes to WW2. My visits were writing related – my children’s book (due out July 2013) is set in June 1941. With that in mind, I centred everything around the research I did, and then I ended with a sneak preview of the book by reading a few pages to them.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been just a little apprehensive about how the girls would react but, y’know, it was actually great fun. There were loads of fantastic questions – as well as some totally random ones that took me by surprise – and I’m beginning to perfect a strategy for answering questions to which, well, to which I don’t know the answer. Turns out the best thing is to say . . .

‘I don’t know.’

The air raid went down well (everyone hiding under the desks while the bombs rained down), the balloon bomb demonstration was a hit and . . . I had the barley sugars for back up.

So what did I learn? Umm, well, apparently girls are just as interested in bombs and bombings and explosions as boys are. Go figure.

In other news . . . 

I don’t do reviews on my blog. There are lots of reasons why I don’t but . . . (and you knew there was a ‘but’ coming, right?) . . . but I’m going to mention a book I’ve just finished reading. I’ll declare, right up front, that ACID is written by someone I know via Twitter, and it’s a YA book –  a genre I know little about – so I started reading it with some trepidation. I really wanted to enjoy it. I was worried that I wouldn’t.

As it happens, there were no grounds for my fears. ACID was a great read and I expect (and hope) it will do very well when it comes out in April next year. Keep your eyes open for it.

There’s an exciting and intriguing opening, lots of action, plenty of twists to keep you guessing, a dystopian future and a kick-ass heroine in Jenna Strong. So . . . Katniss Everdeen had better grab her bow, nock another arrow and prepare for a fight. She has a challenger.

 

That’s all.

Boys, Bombs and Barley Sugar

So, it turns out that a classroom full of 7yr old boys can be very noisy. Who’d have thought?

Also, they are FULL of questions. Particularly if you mention bombs.

I should explain. Last week, my son’s year group had ‘War Day’. This wasn’t so much a celebration of all things war-like, but more of a nostalgia 1940’s day in which the boys joined in activities as they might have done during WW2. They dressed up as evacuees, learned about rationing, remembered family members who served in the war and put on a great production, singing old songs from the ’40′s.

Some soldiers even came to the school to drill them around the playground like new recruits, and Warrant Officer Coates showed them . . . here it comes . . . bombs.

Yes. Real bombs. They weren’t live, of course, but, y’know, boys and bombs. Those 7yr old eyes just lit up like white phosphorous flares!

Anyway, as you may know, I have a children’s book coming out next year which is set during the second world war, so I agreed to go in and talk to the boys about . . . well, what could I talk about? I’m no historian, that’s for sure. I’m not a soldier either. But I did find out quite a bit about air raids when I was researching the book.

‘Yes. That’s it’, I thought. ‘I’ll talk about air raids.’

A very big bomb!

Well, that went down a treat. Because air raids involve bombs, of course. And at the mere mention of the word, the questions rained down on me. One boy in particular was very persistent in his enquiries about the size of different explosive devices and I had to admit my ignorance of detailed bomb knowledge. Warrant Officer Coates had been in already, remember, and his vast array of explodey things made me feel very inadequate indeed.

I was nothing. NOTHING, I tell you.

Perhaps my 1937 civilian gas mask might have diverted their attention but I discovered, just in time, that asbestos was used in the manufacturing process, so I left it at home in an air tight plastic bag.

So what could I do? How could I halt those bomb-related questions? How could I regain my standing in those young eyes?

Eventually I could only placate them with my balloon bomb demonstration which went down a storm (I bet Warrant Officer Coates didn’t do a balloon bomb demonstration), followed by a couple of short films showing . . . you guessed it . . . bombers dropping bombs.

And then, my trump card. I might not be a soldier. I might not have bombs. But I’m a Dad.

And Dads have POWER!

And Dads have KNOWLEDGE!

And Dads know what boys love even more than things that blow up.

Sweets.

nicer than bombs

Oh yeah, I went prepared with a bag of barley sugars. Proper war-time treats.

Better than bombs any day.

That’s all

The Next Big Thing

Okay, so fellow author Emma Pass (whose first YA novel ACID is published next year) has tagged me on something called The Next Big Thing. I’m supposed to tell you about the book I’m working on and then tag five other people and they’re supposed to do the same thing. Well, y’know, these things can be hard. It’s kind of a chain thing without the ‘you will die horribly if you don’t pass this on’ aspect. Which is good, because I don’t know who I can tag and I don’t want anything untoward to happen to me. I’ll just have to hope that the other ‘tagees’ pass it on instead. Oh, and when have I ever been one to follow the rules and do what I’m supposed to?

 

So there.

 

Also, telling you about the book I’m working on isn’t the easiest thing in the world. You see, I’m working on more than one book. There’s the adult novel which has just gone to Orion, there’s the children’s one which has just gone to Chicken House, there’s the other children’s one I’m about to send to my agent, there’s the children’s one I’m about to start writing, and there’s the adult one that . . . well, you get the picture.

Let it not be said I’m not working hard.

 

So, I thought I’d tell you a bit about the children’s book that’s due out in the summer. How about that? That sound OK?

 

Right then. Here we go.

 

 

 

1) What is the working title of your book?

 

The Souvenir. It won’t be called that when it’s published next year ,though. It’s too abstract, I think. Watch this space for a confirmed, final, written-in-stone title.

 

2) Where did the idea come from for the book?

 

That’s always such a hard question to answer. Where do ideas come from? A wisp of something here, a snippet of something there, the remnant of a dream, an overheard snatch of conversation, an incantation over a cauldron in the black of night, a pact with the devil . . . well, maybe not all of those things.

 

3)What genre does your book fall under?

 

It’s a novel for children and, wonderfully, children’s books are not jammed into genres the way books for adults are. This particular story is set in the north east of England in the summer of 1941 and I’d say it’s for readers over the age of 10, but 12 is probably the ideal age.

 

4) Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

 

That’s difficult to say because the book is about two children so the actors would have to be age appropriate – and I don’t know anyone who fits that description!

 

5) What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

 

Stumbling across a wounded German airman, two English children seek to protect him from the soldiers who are hunting him – but how will they keep him safe when others in the village are becoming suspicious? And can they really trust the enemy?

 

That’s one sentence. Kind of.

 

6)Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

 

I’m represented by London Independent Books and the novel will be published in July 2013 by Chicken House Publishing. So far I’ve only published books for adults and this is an exciting step for me.

 

7) How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

 

About two weeks which is . . . well, it’s fast. Blistering. The story had been mooching about in my head for a long time, though, so it was already well developed. Also, I’d be lying if I said that the first draft was any good. It needed a lot of work to knock it into shape. When I write for children the books are a little shorter but I treat the process exactly as I do when I write for adults. I have two children and I have learned from experience that it’s very important not to underestimate or patronize younger readers.

 

8) What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

 

Due to the WW2 setting, I suppose the obvious comparisons would be to books like Carrie’s War, Goodnight Mr Tom and The Machine Gunners, but the feel of the story and the way I tell it is much more modern.

 

9) Who or what inspired you to write this book?

 

I’m fascinated by the history of the period and the strength of the people who endured the hardships. It must have been both exciting and terrifying for children to have lived with the constant threat of bombing and the fear that their fathers and brothers and cousins and uncles would never come home. My own grandfather was a captain in the British Army during the war, my grandmother’s sister was an Anti Aircraft gunner in the ATS and my great-grandfather was the Secretary of State for War in 1945, so there’s a bit of family history there too . . .

 

10) What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

 

Well, first and foremost it’s a cracking adventure, full of excitement and danger. But it’s also a book about friendship, loyalty, understanding and courage.

 

 

And this is where I feel guilty for not tagging someone else.

 

That’s all.

Uncharted Territory

I’m entering new territory.

 

As a published author, it’s good to do the odd public event. It’s a useful way to connect with readers and to spread the word about your writing. And, contrary to what your natural inbuilt fear of public speaking tells you, it can actually be good fun. Unless you get heckled, natch.

 

As a published children’s author, however, I am told it is essential. School visits are a must. Without them, you are NOTHING!

 

And that’s what I mean about new territory. For me, this land is uncharted.

 

Speaking to adults is fine. They tend to be polite, nod in the right places, smile when you expect them to and sit still for a whole hour. It’s like a trip to your local city centre. It’s fine. You know where you are, you know what’s around you, there might be the odd unexpected surprise but, y’know, you’re a grown up, you can handle it.

 

Schools, though? That’s like going into the jungle, right? And children? Well, they’re these crazy, unpredictable things that roam wild in schools. They fidget, yawn, sigh and shake their heads. They snort and cough and roll their eyes. And the questions they ask? Oh, don’t be expecting no easy questions, man . . . and if you don’t keep their attention, they pounce. They sneak up on you like predators and tear you to pieces in the blink of an eye.

 

See what I mean? Uncharted territory.

 

But I’ve got my map and I will stand firm. Oh, and I’ll ask my ex-teacher Mum if I can borrow those eyes.

 

Y’know – the ones in the back of her head.

 

 

 

That’s all.

Ah, Happy Days

Character day at school can be a chore. Come as your favourite (insert author here) character. Well, usually that means parents digging through wardrobes and drawers trying to find something that’ll do, followed by persuading your children they look great when, in fact, they look ridiculous.

This year the instruction was to come as a character from a favourite bedtime book. Or, as a get out clause, they could go in their pyjamas, but that’s a challenge right there isn’t it? It’s as if the school is laying down the gauntlet. They’re saying that if we can’t be bothered to rummage through the cupboards, just send them in their pyjamas. Well that’s not happening. Not in my house. I’ll not have them call me a . . . what’s that? It’s about my daughter, you say? Oh, yeah. Right. Of course it is.

Coming back on topic, my daughter is well past the bedtime stories stage and she didn’t want to go in her pyjamas so she decided to go as Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games. Well, that’s pretty straight forward, isn’t it? The film was out not long ago, so there’s some good visual reference material but . . . what is it that makes Katniss stand out? Visually, I mean – I’m not talking attitude, here.

She has some kind of complicated thing going on with her hair but, you know, I’m a bloke, I can’t be expected to get involved with that. I can barely tie my own shoelaces, how am I ever going to plait hair?

So what else? Oh yes. The bow and arrow. My wife suggested a toy one from the dress-up shop but, well, no daughter of mine is going with a toy. She’s not going in there with some flimsy thing suitable only for a hobbit. Oh no.

Awesome home-made bow!

And, for a moment, I was ten again. Remember those days before iPads and playstations when we used to entertain ourselves by making  . . . stuff? The days when it wasn’t weird for a boy to have a penknife? These days we’re too worried they’d use them for stabbing each other outside the school gates, but back then we used them for digging, for getting bits of potato out of our spud gun (remember those?) and for whittling. We’d go down to the woods and use them for sharpening sticks and making effective, ranged offensive weapons. We weren’t satisfied with just a knife, we made catapults and spears and bows and arrows. Ah, happy days.

Or was that just me?

Anyway, I had great fun the other day, choosing a good bit of wood and making an AWESOME bow, and both my children were suitably impressed – ‘You made that?’ – making me feel like a proper Dad ‘n’ everything.

We tested it out in the garden with some arrows made from bamboo garden stakes and it worked a treat. Fantastic. My daughter was pleased with it and she looked great as Katniss. There was a real sense that she was excited to dress up and go to school looking like one of her heroes.

But making that bow just reminded me how different things are these days, and it made me wonder if it’s the softening, romanticising effect of time and age or . . . well . . . do children in this country feel the same sense of freedom these days?

That’s all.

Curse You, Self-Doubt!!

Finishing a book is always an odd time for me. And I’m talking about writing one, not reading one. Y’see, I don’t show it to anybody while I’m working on it, so I’m never quite sure what the reaction to it will be. Sure, I might discuss a few ideas with my wife, but that’s all, so when it’s finished it’s . . . unseen. And there’s always that niggle of doubt. Curse you, self-doubt!

I don’t push the manuscript to one side and think, ‘Right, that’s the next masterpiece written, what shall I do to change the world today?’ No, it’s more of a tentative handover to my wife, slightly cringing, hoping that she’s going to like it.

And that is the first airing. The first test.

Usually it comes back with a few suggestions, but nothing too major. Because the real test is yet to come.

If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know I have a no-nonsense-tell-it-how-it-is agent and that she is the real test. Because if there’s even the slightest thing wrong with the manuscript, she will be sure to let me know. No sugar coating. No niceties. No beating about the bush.

So it is with great relief that I can tell you she loved the new book, describing it with words like ‘exciting’, ‘strong’ and ‘intense’. Oh and the twists all took her by surprise.

And this is great news for me. I wrote this book in a very short time after a long talk with my publisher about producing a new novel to slot in between The Child Thief and God and The Devil (which is already written and was originally due in 2013 but will now come in 2014). This new novel is the perfect companion to The Child Thief and will whisk you back to Eastern Europe – Russia this time – and drop you right into a land stricken by civil war where you will join the main character in his search to discover what has happened to . . . and why . . . and who . . . no, sorry, I just can’t tell you any more.

So there it is. The new book is gathering momentum and my excitement levels are growing as the heads of approval begin to nod. We writers are such fickle devils, you see, that we thrive on acceptance and praise.

Oh, and in the meantime, The Child Thief is getting some great coverage over in New Zealand which is fantastic. Reviews, interviews and giveaways have appeared in ten different publications – from the New Zealand Herald to The South Taranaki Star and The Northern Advocate, The Bay of Plenty Times, The Wairarapa Times and the Wanganui Chronicle.

Awesome names.

 

That’s all.

Next . . . The WORLD!!

So here’s a bit of news.

 

Next year there will be two new Dan Smith novels on the shelves.

 

There will be one for the adults – a book to shred your nerves in the way that THE CHILD THIEF did – and there will be one for children.

 

And you’re going to love both of them.

 

If you’ve read my blog in the past month or so, you’ll have seen me mention that I’d had an offer on my first children’s book . . . well, I’ve now signed on the line so I don’t suppose it’ll do any harm to tell you something about it. Not too much, you understand. I wouldn’t want to over-stimulate you. I don’t want your pulse to raise too much. I don’t want to get that blood pressure up and . . . anyway, you get the idea.

 

Breathe.

 

So, now you’ve calmed yourself . . . read on.

 

Chicken House will be publishing THE SOUVENIR next summer. They’re a great publisher with a  fantastic reputation, they have a good eye for special stories (natch) and I’m very excited to be working with them. THE SOUVENIR is set in a small coastal village in Northumberland in the summer of 1941 and there’s adventure afoot, so strap yourself down and prepare to be both thrilled and moved. There’s invasion preparations, plane crashes, deceit, friendship, fun, frights, explosions, danger and, of course, a little heartbreak.

 

And I can’t wait.

 

In other news, THE CHILD THIEF has now sold to a French publisher so, next year, it will appear in France as well as the USA.

 

Next . . . the WORLD, mwahahahahahahaha.

 

That’s all.