John Drake's Blog
August 2, 2023
Sophomoric!?
Wow! Go immediately to Amazon and look at the 31st July review of 'Fletcher and the Flying machine'. Wow! Wow! And thrice Wow!
A learned reader has described the book as 'Sophomoric' and I never heard that one before.
It means juvenile, ill-informed, and arrogant. How about that? And all in that one word? Gosh. I wish I could write like that.
So, to the person who said that, I ask "Have you considered a career as a writer, since you have all the skills."
But thanks for giving me a real beauty to store in my file of reviews that give me a wonderful laugh.
Happy days, God bless us everyone.
John Drake
A learned reader has described the book as 'Sophomoric' and I never heard that one before.
It means juvenile, ill-informed, and arrogant. How about that? And all in that one word? Gosh. I wish I could write like that.
So, to the person who said that, I ask "Have you considered a career as a writer, since you have all the skills."
But thanks for giving me a real beauty to store in my file of reviews that give me a wonderful laugh.
Happy days, God bless us everyone.
John Drake
July 21, 2022
Blatant Self Promotion
Everyone loves a dear little, lost puppy all sad and forlorn, don't they?
Well if they don't, then they should.
And my little lost puppy is my WW2 novel 'Agent of Death' that sits firmly on the bottom of my list where nobody reads it. Not ever!
But how can that be?
When it's got four-engined Lancaster bombers, armour-piercing, ten-ton, concrete-smashing bombs, world's biggest U-Boat, Nazi villains, a super weapon worse than the atom-bomb, beautiful women (oh yes!), Bletchley park computers, Churchill, Einstein, valiant self-sacrifice by the US Navy, and Noel Cowardesque sophistication by the Royal Navy, plus a rip-roaring special ops Commando raid, a mission into deepest Russia, a very cunning sleight-of-hand hero, and much, much more in the way of non-stop action.
Gasp! Pause for breath.
it's cheap from Amazon, and it's crying its eyes out, just waiting for you.
Poor little book.
Give it a chance.
John Drake
Well if they don't, then they should.
And my little lost puppy is my WW2 novel 'Agent of Death' that sits firmly on the bottom of my list where nobody reads it. Not ever!
But how can that be?
When it's got four-engined Lancaster bombers, armour-piercing, ten-ton, concrete-smashing bombs, world's biggest U-Boat, Nazi villains, a super weapon worse than the atom-bomb, beautiful women (oh yes!), Bletchley park computers, Churchill, Einstein, valiant self-sacrifice by the US Navy, and Noel Cowardesque sophistication by the Royal Navy, plus a rip-roaring special ops Commando raid, a mission into deepest Russia, a very cunning sleight-of-hand hero, and much, much more in the way of non-stop action.
Gasp! Pause for breath.
it's cheap from Amazon, and it's crying its eyes out, just waiting for you.
Poor little book.
Give it a chance.
John Drake
July 18, 2022
Strictly for grown-ups
Oh dear. Oh dear.
I've got to give a warning about my Treasure Island Books. That's 'Flint and Silver' and the rest of them.
A number of people have been horrified by the strong language and violence, and also the lovely women, and the men who can't keep away from them. Especially the latter.
So, I have to say, that although Robert Louis Stevenson started all this, he was writing for his stepson Lloyd Osbourne who was 13 years old, whereas I was writing for adults. Also I was writing about pirates, who were not "A-harrrrr Jim-lad" jolly chaps, but violent criminals. It wasn't for nothing that the Royal Navies of at least three countries hung pirates from the yard-arm, whenever they got hold of them.
So sorry if the truth ain't what you thought, but it is the truth.
John Drake
I've got to give a warning about my Treasure Island Books. That's 'Flint and Silver' and the rest of them.
A number of people have been horrified by the strong language and violence, and also the lovely women, and the men who can't keep away from them. Especially the latter.
So, I have to say, that although Robert Louis Stevenson started all this, he was writing for his stepson Lloyd Osbourne who was 13 years old, whereas I was writing for adults. Also I was writing about pirates, who were not "A-harrrrr Jim-lad" jolly chaps, but violent criminals. It wasn't for nothing that the Royal Navies of at least three countries hung pirates from the yard-arm, whenever they got hold of them.
So sorry if the truth ain't what you thought, but it is the truth.
John Drake
June 26, 2022
Gandalf's Great Mistake
The Lord of the Ring books and films are magnificent. Especially the films because the books are actually quite hard going. You have to be dedicated. But the films! Transcendent, illuminating, transporting and profoundly wonderful.
BUT
There is a great big Gandalf flaw, and it goes like this. Gandalf is a master of fireworks is he not? And what is the main ingredient of fireworks?
GUNPOWDER.
So come on Gandalf. At least join the 14th century if not the 21st.!
You could write the rest of this rant yourself, but just in case you cannot, then if I were Gandalf, I would summon the craftsmen of Gondor: the bronze founders, the blacksmiths, the locksmiths, the wagon builders and then .... and then .... never mind swords and bows, then ... it would be trolls, orcs and goblins vs King's Troupe Royal Horse artillery, rapid fire with shot, shell and cannister.
Fire at will, chaps!
John Drake
BUT
There is a great big Gandalf flaw, and it goes like this. Gandalf is a master of fireworks is he not? And what is the main ingredient of fireworks?
GUNPOWDER.
So come on Gandalf. At least join the 14th century if not the 21st.!
You could write the rest of this rant yourself, but just in case you cannot, then if I were Gandalf, I would summon the craftsmen of Gondor: the bronze founders, the blacksmiths, the locksmiths, the wagon builders and then .... and then .... never mind swords and bows, then ... it would be trolls, orcs and goblins vs King's Troupe Royal Horse artillery, rapid fire with shot, shell and cannister.
Fire at will, chaps!
John Drake
August 9, 2021
Latin Dedication
Some readers have asked about the Latin dedication that appears at the beginning of all my Fletcher books. This is it:-
In fond memory of
David Burkhill Howarth
----------- DBH ------------
1946 - 2009
PATRIFAMILIAS AMATISSIMO
MAGISTRO DOCTISSIMO
INGENIOSISSIMO TECHNITAE
OPTIMO AMICO
The dedication is to my very great friend, David Burkhill Howarth, who sadly lost a valiant fight against cancer, in 2009.
In the 1990s I worked with him in the Television Dept of ICI Pharmaceuticals (Yes, a Pharma company had a TV dept). We made science documentaries and delivered live TV broadcasts world wide. He was formidably adept as a TV engineer, director and organiser, but above all he was a friend, father and grandfather. The Latin means:
BELOVED HEAD OF FAMILY
MOST LEARNED TEACHER
MOST GIFTED TECHNICAL EXPERT
BEST FRIEND.
That was him: DBH
In fond memory of
David Burkhill Howarth
----------- DBH ------------
1946 - 2009
PATRIFAMILIAS AMATISSIMO
MAGISTRO DOCTISSIMO
INGENIOSISSIMO TECHNITAE
OPTIMO AMICO
The dedication is to my very great friend, David Burkhill Howarth, who sadly lost a valiant fight against cancer, in 2009.
In the 1990s I worked with him in the Television Dept of ICI Pharmaceuticals (Yes, a Pharma company had a TV dept). We made science documentaries and delivered live TV broadcasts world wide. He was formidably adept as a TV engineer, director and organiser, but above all he was a friend, father and grandfather. The Latin means:
BELOVED HEAD OF FAMILY
MOST LEARNED TEACHER
MOST GIFTED TECHNICAL EXPERT
BEST FRIEND.
That was him: DBH
May 23, 2021
Glamour beyond 40
This is in response to some comments received about Lady Sarah Coignwood - the evil witch-queen villain of my early Fletcher books, who persued Fletcher with vicious determination to see him dead (or worse).
Lady Sarah is a wicked woman but is also exceedingly attractive to men, and can draw even the most sensible and dignified of men into her spell. Oh yes indeed. Oh yes! After all, what do you want in a work of fiction? A strong female villain who is ugly? If you want that, don't read my books.
But! Some of the more mathematically-adept of my readers have pointed out - having read my books, and for which thank you - they have pointed out that since Lady Sarah must be well over 40, then she could no longer be devastatingly attractive to men.
My reply to that is as follows: Elizabeth Hurley, Halley Berry, Demie Moore and others, who are all over 50. Do check, via Google images, because they are all ten years older than Lady Sarah in my books.
Finally, if by the Grace of God, my works and this post last so far in the future that you do not recognise the above ladies, then do your own check on whatever technology is current, to find images of the over 50's ladies in this category.
My case rests, with grateful thanks to the ikons of beauty named above,
In profoundest admiration,
John Drake.
Lady Sarah is a wicked woman but is also exceedingly attractive to men, and can draw even the most sensible and dignified of men into her spell. Oh yes indeed. Oh yes! After all, what do you want in a work of fiction? A strong female villain who is ugly? If you want that, don't read my books.
But! Some of the more mathematically-adept of my readers have pointed out - having read my books, and for which thank you - they have pointed out that since Lady Sarah must be well over 40, then she could no longer be devastatingly attractive to men.
My reply to that is as follows: Elizabeth Hurley, Halley Berry, Demie Moore and others, who are all over 50. Do check, via Google images, because they are all ten years older than Lady Sarah in my books.
Finally, if by the Grace of God, my works and this post last so far in the future that you do not recognise the above ladies, then do your own check on whatever technology is current, to find images of the over 50's ladies in this category.
My case rests, with grateful thanks to the ikons of beauty named above,
In profoundest admiration,
John Drake.
March 4, 2020
Can't do arithmetic
Dear Friends, I appeal for support if any of you - like me - have had a lifelong problem with arithmetic.
I remember how it started in infants school some time in the 1950s: there were squares round the classroom wall giving numbers as they appear on a dice (a 'die' if you want to be grammatical). So number one, was one dot, number two was two dots and so on.
This I understood, but nothing else. I could not multiply, divide, add or subtract. The only lifeboat for me was the multiplication tables: two twos are four, three twos are six ... etc and chanted to a rhythm which I still use seventy years later. Oh dear.
It gets worse. I must have been about thirty before I realised that seven times five, is the same as five times seven. And even unto this very day I hate odd numbers ( seven and thirteen especially) and tolerate even numbers. Don't ask why because I don't know.
And yet, and yet ... I am not dim. I have an honours degree in biochemistry and a Ph.D. concerned with the interaction of Chloroquine (an anti-malarial drug) and the plasmodial DNA. So who's a clever boy then? But I still can't do sums. If I buy anything I give more than asked, and do not count the change because I cannot. Or these days I pay with a card or just tap. Happy days indeed.
So, and because I rather suspect I am not unique, and because all we innnumerates dare not admit it for fear of being labelled stupid ... I ask you, my friends, if any of you are like me? Do tell. I would be so happy, and I think you would too.
All the very best, John Drake
I remember how it started in infants school some time in the 1950s: there were squares round the classroom wall giving numbers as they appear on a dice (a 'die' if you want to be grammatical). So number one, was one dot, number two was two dots and so on.
This I understood, but nothing else. I could not multiply, divide, add or subtract. The only lifeboat for me was the multiplication tables: two twos are four, three twos are six ... etc and chanted to a rhythm which I still use seventy years later. Oh dear.
It gets worse. I must have been about thirty before I realised that seven times five, is the same as five times seven. And even unto this very day I hate odd numbers ( seven and thirteen especially) and tolerate even numbers. Don't ask why because I don't know.
And yet, and yet ... I am not dim. I have an honours degree in biochemistry and a Ph.D. concerned with the interaction of Chloroquine (an anti-malarial drug) and the plasmodial DNA. So who's a clever boy then? But I still can't do sums. If I buy anything I give more than asked, and do not count the change because I cannot. Or these days I pay with a card or just tap. Happy days indeed.
So, and because I rather suspect I am not unique, and because all we innnumerates dare not admit it for fear of being labelled stupid ... I ask you, my friends, if any of you are like me? Do tell. I would be so happy, and I think you would too.
All the very best, John Drake
February 3, 2020
Further to Heave-Ho!
A number of friends have asked for further details about my adventure of getting bogged down, and since I deliberately shortened the tale for fear of being boring, here is the rest of it.
As I said, the RAC rescue van could not pull me out, and a 4X4 was promised for the next day. But the next day was a Sunday and no 4X4 was available. So my wife asked around among friends, and a most excellent chap said that he could get another friend to help, and that this other friend had a monster vehicle that would do the job.
So, we arranged to meet at 5.15 Sunday night, for further efforts. On arriving at the muddy lane entrance, it was nearly dark and I feared that nothing could be done. But, the friend-of-a-friend arrived in a vehicle that sounded like a U-boat's diesels thudding and booming. It was a Ford Dodge Ram: a huge pick-up with four wheel drive and tyres like those of tractors. It was awesome.
It also had headlamps like searchlights and a row of lamps over the cab that turned black night into bright day.
So down the lane we went, found the poor Jag, made fast the tow-lines, and the Ford Dodge hauled out the Jag easier that popping a cork.
Final complexity. The whole problem arose because the bl***y b*****d lane had a gate over it at the far end! So I couldn't drive out forwards anyway, and couldn't do a 3-point turn for the mud, so the Jag had to be reversed about 2 miles down the bI***y lane.
But all's well that ends well, saith the Bard, and the Jag seems not even to be scrapped.
All I can say is God bless Henry Ford.
John Drake
As I said, the RAC rescue van could not pull me out, and a 4X4 was promised for the next day. But the next day was a Sunday and no 4X4 was available. So my wife asked around among friends, and a most excellent chap said that he could get another friend to help, and that this other friend had a monster vehicle that would do the job.
So, we arranged to meet at 5.15 Sunday night, for further efforts. On arriving at the muddy lane entrance, it was nearly dark and I feared that nothing could be done. But, the friend-of-a-friend arrived in a vehicle that sounded like a U-boat's diesels thudding and booming. It was a Ford Dodge Ram: a huge pick-up with four wheel drive and tyres like those of tractors. It was awesome.
It also had headlamps like searchlights and a row of lamps over the cab that turned black night into bright day.
So down the lane we went, found the poor Jag, made fast the tow-lines, and the Ford Dodge hauled out the Jag easier that popping a cork.
Final complexity. The whole problem arose because the bl***y b*****d lane had a gate over it at the far end! So I couldn't drive out forwards anyway, and couldn't do a 3-point turn for the mud, so the Jag had to be reversed about 2 miles down the bI***y lane.
But all's well that ends well, saith the Bard, and the Jag seems not even to be scrapped.
All I can say is God bless Henry Ford.
John Drake
January 27, 2020
Heave ho, my hearties!
Yesterday night an old maritime tradition came to meet me. The tradition was the method whereby, in the age of sail, a ship would move itself if stuck in the mud, or becalmed when close to shore.
The method was to make fast a cable to a strongpoint such as a big tree, then bring the cable to the ship's capstan when all hands would shove the bars round, to haul on the cable and move the ship.
So: the night before last my car got bogged down in mud thanks to a satnav which said the lane was drivable. Ha! Ha! I phoned the RAC and a van arrived which not only failed to pull me out but got bogged down itself. At this stage all hands aboard my car were summoned to push the van out. This we attempted, although two of the hands were ladies in high heels (my wife and a friend).
when this method failed (utterly) guess what the van driver did?
He made fast a steel wire to a big tree, and connected the wire via a hand-winch to his van, and cranked mightily on the handle of the winch. Et voila! Out came the van. Then he drove us all to a place where we could get a cab home, with the promise of a 4x4 tomorrow, to haul out my car.
The car is now out of mud and out of danger. But heave ho my hearties to see such a method still in use. The hand winch even had ratchet pawls (look them up in Google) exactly like a capstan.
Must prove something, but I know not what.
John Drake
The method was to make fast a cable to a strongpoint such as a big tree, then bring the cable to the ship's capstan when all hands would shove the bars round, to haul on the cable and move the ship.
So: the night before last my car got bogged down in mud thanks to a satnav which said the lane was drivable. Ha! Ha! I phoned the RAC and a van arrived which not only failed to pull me out but got bogged down itself. At this stage all hands aboard my car were summoned to push the van out. This we attempted, although two of the hands were ladies in high heels (my wife and a friend).
when this method failed (utterly) guess what the van driver did?
He made fast a steel wire to a big tree, and connected the wire via a hand-winch to his van, and cranked mightily on the handle of the winch. Et voila! Out came the van. Then he drove us all to a place where we could get a cab home, with the promise of a 4x4 tomorrow, to haul out my car.
The car is now out of mud and out of danger. But heave ho my hearties to see such a method still in use. The hand winch even had ratchet pawls (look them up in Google) exactly like a capstan.
Must prove something, but I know not what.
John Drake
November 26, 2019
Bad Reviews
First: it is my fixed opinion that there are no bad reviews. There are only reviews that the author - in his or her vanity - perceives as bad.
This is because every review of every book every written, is the opinion of the reviewer, and is entirely valid as a statement of truth. Well ... that assumes we may discount bribery, conspiracy or Satanic intervention. But on that assumption I never complain when I get the occasional stinker.
Which I do. My favourite is the following: "I cannot understand how any literary agent or publisher allowed such awful prose." You, dear reader, are free to guess which of my books got that one.
But one of mine did! I comfort myself with the fact that the author of that review never asked me to write, and that I wrote out of my vanity, and that his opinion was true and valid. And also that in due course he will go to Hell for what he has said. And serve him right.
Here endeth the lesson.
All best, John Drake
This is because every review of every book every written, is the opinion of the reviewer, and is entirely valid as a statement of truth. Well ... that assumes we may discount bribery, conspiracy or Satanic intervention. But on that assumption I never complain when I get the occasional stinker.
Which I do. My favourite is the following: "I cannot understand how any literary agent or publisher allowed such awful prose." You, dear reader, are free to guess which of my books got that one.
But one of mine did! I comfort myself with the fact that the author of that review never asked me to write, and that I wrote out of my vanity, and that his opinion was true and valid. And also that in due course he will go to Hell for what he has said. And serve him right.
Here endeth the lesson.
All best, John Drake
