Milly Johnson's Blog, page 3
August 31, 2017
BE A CHARACTER IN MY NEXT BOOK AUCTION!!!
In a week where we have taken ownership of a pup who will be loved and cherished, it is a sad counterbalance that so many animals in the world do not receive the respect and happiness they deserve. Mans' best friends - if we let them. Loyal way past the point of no return. The internet churns up so many stories of animal cruelty even the word 'caution' next to a link for a photo brings the tears to my eyes. I can't open the stories. A single sweep of my eye across a photo of animal distress seems to burn the image onto my retina. I want to help them all and I know I can't. So I'm always thrilled when big celebs with big voices, big clout and big money get involved in trying to change things. Celebrity has power, using it for these causes makes all of us animal lovers rejoice.
But tomorrow - or today if you are reading this on Friday 1st September - I have an auction to try and raise funds for a little dog who really needs some help. He's had a shit life in Romania, how he survived I have no idea, but he did. The pics aren't nice (but doable - even for a wuss like me) so I use the word caution, but he has been taken in by a lovely couple with another rescue dog and they've spent thousands on him. Thanks to some twat with an iron bar hitting Eddie over the head, he has a hole in it that needs surgery and a super vet will do it, but for a fee. And the half-way mark has been reached which leaves another £3000 to raise.
Oh we have all spent a fiver on daft things - I have. I blew £20 on da Vinci's Diamonds last week (my one and only foray into online gambling) so if you can forego a bottle of plonk or a paperback book in the supermarket (obviously not mine - buy those. Joke!) this weekend to help raise some cash for Eddie, then please do. We cannot save them all, but we can give a little to a few, pick our causes and this is one of mine.
This is our lad, loved, safe... hopefully for all his days
...and this is Eddie, who is now loved and safe but he's had a rough time and deserves to live out the rest of his life with health and happiness.
Eddie, despite his history, is a loving soul who probably can't believe his luck landing with his new family who are fighting to save him.
So... you can help in two ways. Firstly - there is the crowd funding page - where you can stick a bit in the pot for him. No such thing as a little kindness, all those small amounts of cash add up.
https://www.leetchi.com/c/money-pot-eddie-22587947
Thank you from the family if you do - I know they are touched by the kindness that Eddie has been shown from strangers.
But also there is an auction to win a place in my book 15 - the Christmas Pudding Club. It ends Friday 1st September at 19 minutes past 8 in the evening (20:19)
The winner will be able to pick the name of a character - or a business - in the book (there is a disclaimer that it can't be anything stupid like Mr Cheesy McKnob). But I will confer with the winner so that it is a very personal gift. In the past people who have won my prizes have had their loved ones honoured. Bill Henderson in Queen of Wishful Thinking was a massive character and a lovely one and in memory of a lady's father. Stripey the cat in Autumn Crush. Even Cheryl Parker's character - whose husband was the winning bidder for her name to be in a book - took centre stage in Afternoon Tea at the Sunflower Cafe.
People all over the world will read about the character. The book will be published in October 2018 and the winning bidder will receive advance copies, personalised and 'all the gubbins.' It will be the loveliest present I can make for someone - so if you want to surprise your wife/husband/mother - there are few more personalised gifts than the one that I am offering.
There are only 24 hours left for the auction so you will forgive me for asking you to spread the news far and wide because I need social media - Eddie needs social media. I promise, whoever wins will not be disappointed.
I will - as an addition - put everyone's name who bids in the auction into a hat, make a draw and put that person - or person nominated by them - into the book too.
HERE IS THE AUCTION LINK ...
And if the price for this is too high - then please, see that money pot link above. Please let us, between us, give Eddie a rest of a lovely life.
Thank you - and much love folks. It's wonderful that strangers can be so kind, with all the crap news thrown at us, we tend to forget there is still a lot of goodness in the world.
Milly xxxx
But tomorrow - or today if you are reading this on Friday 1st September - I have an auction to try and raise funds for a little dog who really needs some help. He's had a shit life in Romania, how he survived I have no idea, but he did. The pics aren't nice (but doable - even for a wuss like me) so I use the word caution, but he has been taken in by a lovely couple with another rescue dog and they've spent thousands on him. Thanks to some twat with an iron bar hitting Eddie over the head, he has a hole in it that needs surgery and a super vet will do it, but for a fee. And the half-way mark has been reached which leaves another £3000 to raise.
Oh we have all spent a fiver on daft things - I have. I blew £20 on da Vinci's Diamonds last week (my one and only foray into online gambling) so if you can forego a bottle of plonk or a paperback book in the supermarket (obviously not mine - buy those. Joke!) this weekend to help raise some cash for Eddie, then please do. We cannot save them all, but we can give a little to a few, pick our causes and this is one of mine.
This is our lad, loved, safe... hopefully for all his days
...and this is Eddie, who is now loved and safe but he's had a rough time and deserves to live out the rest of his life with health and happiness.Eddie, despite his history, is a loving soul who probably can't believe his luck landing with his new family who are fighting to save him.
So... you can help in two ways. Firstly - there is the crowd funding page - where you can stick a bit in the pot for him. No such thing as a little kindness, all those small amounts of cash add up.
https://www.leetchi.com/c/money-pot-eddie-22587947
Thank you from the family if you do - I know they are touched by the kindness that Eddie has been shown from strangers.
But also there is an auction to win a place in my book 15 - the Christmas Pudding Club. It ends Friday 1st September at 19 minutes past 8 in the evening (20:19)
The winner will be able to pick the name of a character - or a business - in the book (there is a disclaimer that it can't be anything stupid like Mr Cheesy McKnob). But I will confer with the winner so that it is a very personal gift. In the past people who have won my prizes have had their loved ones honoured. Bill Henderson in Queen of Wishful Thinking was a massive character and a lovely one and in memory of a lady's father. Stripey the cat in Autumn Crush. Even Cheryl Parker's character - whose husband was the winning bidder for her name to be in a book - took centre stage in Afternoon Tea at the Sunflower Cafe.
People all over the world will read about the character. The book will be published in October 2018 and the winning bidder will receive advance copies, personalised and 'all the gubbins.' It will be the loveliest present I can make for someone - so if you want to surprise your wife/husband/mother - there are few more personalised gifts than the one that I am offering.
There are only 24 hours left for the auction so you will forgive me for asking you to spread the news far and wide because I need social media - Eddie needs social media. I promise, whoever wins will not be disappointed.
I will - as an addition - put everyone's name who bids in the auction into a hat, make a draw and put that person - or person nominated by them - into the book too.
HERE IS THE AUCTION LINK ...
And if the price for this is too high - then please, see that money pot link above. Please let us, between us, give Eddie a rest of a lovely life.
Thank you - and much love folks. It's wonderful that strangers can be so kind, with all the crap news thrown at us, we tend to forget there is still a lot of goodness in the world.
Milly xxxx
August 18, 2017
A Week on the Ocean Wave
The choice of a holiday was simple: a week or nothing. Circumstances dictated that we couldn't have the customary long break and I did wonder if a week would be enough to recharge my batteries. I'd never done a week's cruise before. But then I hadn't done a cruise without the kids before - with just ourselves to please. So the choice was simple. We'll take the week.
It was a research trip as well as a holiday. I was working - honest. If you can call it work. Our ship of choice - P & O's Ventura, sister of one of my two favourites The Azura. Destination: Spain, Portugal and Guernsey. We needed sunshine badly. And a rest.
The thing I love about cruise holidays is that they start the moment we board the bus. The journey is pretty long to Southampton but we aren't driving and can just sit back and enjoy the view and eat the wine gums. We loaded our cases on the bus and the next time we saw them, they were outside the cabin.
I always feel better once we have handed over the passports and the tickets at the embarkation desk. You'd be surprised how many people pack their passports, I'm told. (I've never done that but I'm not getting too smug because I did once miss the ship, but that's another story of course. ) Getting on the ship is a bit like opening the door to your own personal familiar timeshare, I do really feel that I'm 'home' for a week.
We had a balcony cabin which I would recommend because it's lovely to fall asleep on or just stand there and watch the waves/dolphins/scenery. You don't need to take towels with you or a hairdryer. There is loads of wardrobe space, an ensuite with toiletries, a TV, a safe, mini bar and a huge comfy bed. which is made for you every day - a cabin steward comes in twice a day and leaves chocolates at night. Sadly she doesn't follow you home.
The favourite 'hang out' for me is the Glass House because the food and the wines there are fabulous. We headed straight there for an Ice Wine and I can't tell you how much I instantly felt all weight dropping from my shoulders. I refused to let my mind stray back home to wild parties that my teenage sons might be holding and concentrated on what was happening on the ship via the daily Horizon newspaper.
You notice changes every time you come onto the ship and one of those was that there is no hiding in your cabins and avoiding the life jacket practice. For the record, I never avoided them. It's nice to mingle and gives me the chance to see if I recognise anyone I've cruised with before plus we always play 'spot the plank' an integral part of the cruise. The lads and I used to take bets on who we thought would be the first person to disobey the crew's message to 'watch and not do'. I spotted the plank first this time, I am proud to admit. Now you have to get your cruise card scanned and if you haven't attended then, then you will have to at a later date. Who wants that? It doesn't take very long (at least it wouldn't if people arrived on time). My holiday begins properly after that. Choice of bars for a cocktail? Plenty. Be rude not to try them all. Check out my chocolate orange gin one.
Though my favourite is the old Raspberry Creme Brûlée!
You could even buy Barnsley Bitter! And it looks as if my five a day is sorted easily enough!
We had some amazing meals on the ship. On the second night we went to the Epicurean with journo friends and were treated to such unexpected delights as a Bloody Mary frozen lolly and a lipstick jelly! Salmon was cut at the table (whisky infused!) crepes were flambed there too. Dinner takes at least two hours and it's fabulous. Not just a meal but an experience. Is it worth the supplement? Oh yes. And not twiddly little nouvelle cuisine portions either. This is serious stuffing.
My very posh surf and turf with beef and lobster...
The men got an 'egg' made out of a piece of mango, ladies got lippy!
My dessert was tiny. Not.
the after dinner chocolates were many but by then we had reached 'Mr Creosote stage'.
Our first stop was in Vigo - sadly on a Sunday so most of the shops were shut - but there is a beautiful beach there at Samil. Just ask a taxi driver to take you, it's about 10 minutes up the road.
But there was sunshine, lots of it and we were happy sitting in it, drinking coffee listening to one of a thousand buskers playing Despacito on a continual loop.
As we were by ourselves without my boys, we hadn't booked any trips and for the first time had freedom dining, which was fabulous. We sometimes shared a table and sometimes had a table for two - if one wasn't available, we were giving a pager and I can't think that we waited above 20 minutes at all.
The food on board ship is a huge part of the holiday, and though more than half my pics seem to be of meals, we didn't actually put any weight on! We only made breakfast a couple of times and had a few lunches in the Glass House.
My other half loved the fish and chips!
But the totally fatless sirloin with Bearnaise sauce took some beating for me!
I tended to go for the 3 little dishes... and one day we treated ourselves to the three little dishes of desserts plus a sharing platter featuring Alex James's cheese. Merely for photographic purposes you understand. One day I just had the cheese as a meal - absolutely gorgeous.
We did go to Sindhu at East one night to sample the Indian recipes of Atul Kochhar.
My other half though there wasn't going to be much food for him when he saw the size of the poppadoms. But the courses kept on coming...
...and coming
and coming...
and coming...
and coming...
...and coming!
The meal took was two hours of unadulterated bliss. And we tried the complimentary house wine which was surprisingly good (I had been prepared for us abandoning it and buying a decent bottle). The wines are lovely on board and very reasonably priced - which isn't the case with all cruise companies. Though I was gutted to find that my favourite Pinotage has been replaced by another one. I consoled myself with one of Jolly Olly Smith's other choices. It managed to take away some of the pain.
Coffee to follow... and some lovely Indian delicacies. I almost didn't take a photo of that because by then I was so huge, I couldn't bend over to pick up my camera.
It's a very small supplement to dine at East and it's worth more than every penny. My OH's favourite food on the ship.
Although the Beach House high up on deck 15 offers outstanding views whilst you're eating.
I fancied something light and the salmon - hickory glazed with a potato salad and buttered asparagus - fitted the bill.
Sometimes you have to get off the ship to compare standards...
I think the waiter in that Oporto cafe needs to go back to training school!
Oporto was sunny and we stretched our legs. We also had a lovely day in Lisbon but didn't get off the ship at Guernsey. We were happy just plodding about the ship.
The entertainment was FABULOUS. For once we didn't go and see the Headliners because the other stuff was too good to miss. These Chapman Brothers were brilliant. Absolutely amazing.
Sadly this picture or this clip doesn't do them justice, but trust me, they were a must-see. X-Factor contestants who got to the judge's house stage too. Comedians, singers, Jon Fisher the Gary Barlow impersonator, who looks and sounds more like Gary Barlow than Gary Barlow does... Loads of good choice entertainment.
And during the day, playing to packed out audiences was this gem of a woman Diane Simpson a graphologist and profiler who worked on the Yorkshire Ripper case and had amazing stories to tell in her lectures about serial killers. And then a lecture about Humour and what makes us laugh - and she did. It might sound a bit old farty to say we went to lectures on board, but they have some great speakers on the ship. She was the best I've ever encountered (obviously apart from myself).
Then I come to an event that I don't mind telling you I was slightly dreading. A masterclass with Marco Pierre White. I had visions of him throwing me out of the kitchen for being useless. But it wasn't the sort of masterclass I imagined. For 2 hours a small group of us sat and watched him cook whilst supping fizz and then we ate what he'd produced. And there was enough of it to send us out of the class 3 stone heavier.
Did you tell him you'd won Come Dine with Me, asked someone on Twitter. No I didn't. It would have been like telling Pavarotti I once busked in the London Underground. On a kazoo.
My heart sank when I heard he was cooking seafood. Not my favourite. But I'm not allergic, I don't come out in lumps at the sight of a prawn so I thought I'd put it away to be polite. It's not that hard to stuff down scallops and lobster, two of the fish I can manage to eat without turning green. First he cooked risotto then served it into small plates and we handed them around to each other, washed down with more Prosecco. My sort of cookery lesson. Then came spaghetti with chilli and more lobster and LOADS of basil. Then pasta, tiny macaroni with (barf alert) tarragon. I hate tarragon. I ate tarragon. Have no idea why I could taste the tarragon in that dish but it WORKED and I wolfed it. As for Marco's cooking: fascinating, effortless. Obvs, as my sons would say. We chatted, we ate, we drank. This wasn't a masterclass, well it was, but it was more lunch with Marco with the masterclass happening in the background. And it was fabulous. And at the end of it all, we received a huge coffee table book of his life and pictures which he signed, posed for photos with us and left us very happy - if stuffed - bunnies.
Did I learn anything? Amazing how much you pick up just observing and talking and not really concentrating on learning things - they just happened along the way.
1. That he cooks with olive oil and not with any fancy rapeseed etc stuff because he just likes olive oil. Simples.
2. That if you want to avoid lumps in your white sauce, make sure you've got more butter than flour in it.
3. Don't cook white sauce with a wooden spoon, use a whisk.
4. Use a spatula instead of a wooden spoon when folding pasta/rice into sauces, far more effective.
5. Use a stack of fresh basil in your sauces, not just a limp sprig.
6. I wish I'd known this before and saved myself HOURS. All that rubbish about making a risotto and adding a leeetle bit of liquid at a time - total bollocks. Chuck in the liquid in one go and you won't end up with a lump of risotto but something that (quote) 'walks across the plate'. I tasted that risotto which hadn't been cooked how the recipe books tell you and it was perfect.
7. That when you're making a fish pie, don't put your mash on then stick it in the oven because your fish will be tough (yep - done this in a bid to recreate his fish pie at home)... but just brown the top of the mash under the grill. And put cheese under and over your mash.
8. That the best way to make a tomato sauce is to use half fresh and half tinned, cook then pass through a conical sieve.
9. Grate your onions and your garlic rather than chop them.
10. That someone can actually make me eat tarragon without me throwing up. That amazed me enough to feature of my learning list.
This afternoon is a joy. The man is a delight to spend time with. An artist. And lovely company. It's a fantastic package - the book alone costs about £25 in the shops - and I would recommend it heartily.
So what else... Always lovely to try new things on a ship - like this salt and vinegar ice-cream, which actually did taste a little salty and balsamicy... and was surprisingly lovely.
There was so much food around I started hallucinating and seeing my handbag as a giant biscuit (see Yoshi !)
Some photos do not do justice to the places we visited. We realised that we are 'snappers' and our photos will never be seen in a travel brochure. Would you go to Lisbon knowing that people like the above might be walking around in it?
And we found ourselves sitting in the coffee bar - The Tazzine (the Samovar in Here Come The Girls) and having some excellent Teapigs brews. My OH was on the detox stuff, I was on the Up-Beet energiser. We rediscovered a love of tea onboard. Good as I drink far too much coffee! Old-farty again? Possibly - don't care. We enjoyed it.
So how was a week's cruise? Would I recommend it? Would I do it again?
Smashing. Yep. And yep again.
I did think I wouldn't 'bed in' enough on a week's cruise, but I was wrong. Though I do like the fortnight plus trips, I would happily do some more week long ones because it did the trick, gave us a holiday, some 'us' time and felt much longer than the seven days, strangely enough. I thought it might not be worth going away for just a week, but I've now learnt that is codswallop. And I'm biased but we do love P & O and I know where I am with them, what to expect... but also enjoy the new things they throw into the mix like that cookery experience on the last sea day.
I didn't go to the spa because I had a good book and read on the balcony instead. Totally and utterly relaxed, glass of champers at my side, batteries recharging slowly... This is the sort of work I like!
So many people write to me having read Here Come The Girls to say that they've booked their first cruise because of me and booked another whilst they were onboard. Good. It's not for everyone but it's definitely for us.
It was a research trip as well as a holiday. I was working - honest. If you can call it work. Our ship of choice - P & O's Ventura, sister of one of my two favourites The Azura. Destination: Spain, Portugal and Guernsey. We needed sunshine badly. And a rest.
The thing I love about cruise holidays is that they start the moment we board the bus. The journey is pretty long to Southampton but we aren't driving and can just sit back and enjoy the view and eat the wine gums. We loaded our cases on the bus and the next time we saw them, they were outside the cabin.
I always feel better once we have handed over the passports and the tickets at the embarkation desk. You'd be surprised how many people pack their passports, I'm told. (I've never done that but I'm not getting too smug because I did once miss the ship, but that's another story of course. ) Getting on the ship is a bit like opening the door to your own personal familiar timeshare, I do really feel that I'm 'home' for a week.
We had a balcony cabin which I would recommend because it's lovely to fall asleep on or just stand there and watch the waves/dolphins/scenery. You don't need to take towels with you or a hairdryer. There is loads of wardrobe space, an ensuite with toiletries, a TV, a safe, mini bar and a huge comfy bed. which is made for you every day - a cabin steward comes in twice a day and leaves chocolates at night. Sadly she doesn't follow you home.
The favourite 'hang out' for me is the Glass House because the food and the wines there are fabulous. We headed straight there for an Ice Wine and I can't tell you how much I instantly felt all weight dropping from my shoulders. I refused to let my mind stray back home to wild parties that my teenage sons might be holding and concentrated on what was happening on the ship via the daily Horizon newspaper.
You notice changes every time you come onto the ship and one of those was that there is no hiding in your cabins and avoiding the life jacket practice. For the record, I never avoided them. It's nice to mingle and gives me the chance to see if I recognise anyone I've cruised with before plus we always play 'spot the plank' an integral part of the cruise. The lads and I used to take bets on who we thought would be the first person to disobey the crew's message to 'watch and not do'. I spotted the plank first this time, I am proud to admit. Now you have to get your cruise card scanned and if you haven't attended then, then you will have to at a later date. Who wants that? It doesn't take very long (at least it wouldn't if people arrived on time). My holiday begins properly after that. Choice of bars for a cocktail? Plenty. Be rude not to try them all. Check out my chocolate orange gin one.
Though my favourite is the old Raspberry Creme Brûlée!
You could even buy Barnsley Bitter! And it looks as if my five a day is sorted easily enough!
We had some amazing meals on the ship. On the second night we went to the Epicurean with journo friends and were treated to such unexpected delights as a Bloody Mary frozen lolly and a lipstick jelly! Salmon was cut at the table (whisky infused!) crepes were flambed there too. Dinner takes at least two hours and it's fabulous. Not just a meal but an experience. Is it worth the supplement? Oh yes. And not twiddly little nouvelle cuisine portions either. This is serious stuffing.
My very posh surf and turf with beef and lobster...
The men got an 'egg' made out of a piece of mango, ladies got lippy!
My dessert was tiny. Not.
the after dinner chocolates were many but by then we had reached 'Mr Creosote stage'.
Our first stop was in Vigo - sadly on a Sunday so most of the shops were shut - but there is a beautiful beach there at Samil. Just ask a taxi driver to take you, it's about 10 minutes up the road.
But there was sunshine, lots of it and we were happy sitting in it, drinking coffee listening to one of a thousand buskers playing Despacito on a continual loop.
As we were by ourselves without my boys, we hadn't booked any trips and for the first time had freedom dining, which was fabulous. We sometimes shared a table and sometimes had a table for two - if one wasn't available, we were giving a pager and I can't think that we waited above 20 minutes at all.
The food on board ship is a huge part of the holiday, and though more than half my pics seem to be of meals, we didn't actually put any weight on! We only made breakfast a couple of times and had a few lunches in the Glass House.
My other half loved the fish and chips!
But the totally fatless sirloin with Bearnaise sauce took some beating for me!
I tended to go for the 3 little dishes... and one day we treated ourselves to the three little dishes of desserts plus a sharing platter featuring Alex James's cheese. Merely for photographic purposes you understand. One day I just had the cheese as a meal - absolutely gorgeous.
We did go to Sindhu at East one night to sample the Indian recipes of Atul Kochhar.
My other half though there wasn't going to be much food for him when he saw the size of the poppadoms. But the courses kept on coming...
...and coming
and coming...
and coming...
and coming...
...and coming!
The meal took was two hours of unadulterated bliss. And we tried the complimentary house wine which was surprisingly good (I had been prepared for us abandoning it and buying a decent bottle). The wines are lovely on board and very reasonably priced - which isn't the case with all cruise companies. Though I was gutted to find that my favourite Pinotage has been replaced by another one. I consoled myself with one of Jolly Olly Smith's other choices. It managed to take away some of the pain.
Coffee to follow... and some lovely Indian delicacies. I almost didn't take a photo of that because by then I was so huge, I couldn't bend over to pick up my camera.
It's a very small supplement to dine at East and it's worth more than every penny. My OH's favourite food on the ship.
Although the Beach House high up on deck 15 offers outstanding views whilst you're eating.
I fancied something light and the salmon - hickory glazed with a potato salad and buttered asparagus - fitted the bill.
Sometimes you have to get off the ship to compare standards...
I think the waiter in that Oporto cafe needs to go back to training school!Oporto was sunny and we stretched our legs. We also had a lovely day in Lisbon but didn't get off the ship at Guernsey. We were happy just plodding about the ship.
The entertainment was FABULOUS. For once we didn't go and see the Headliners because the other stuff was too good to miss. These Chapman Brothers were brilliant. Absolutely amazing.
Sadly this picture or this clip doesn't do them justice, but trust me, they were a must-see. X-Factor contestants who got to the judge's house stage too. Comedians, singers, Jon Fisher the Gary Barlow impersonator, who looks and sounds more like Gary Barlow than Gary Barlow does... Loads of good choice entertainment.And during the day, playing to packed out audiences was this gem of a woman Diane Simpson a graphologist and profiler who worked on the Yorkshire Ripper case and had amazing stories to tell in her lectures about serial killers. And then a lecture about Humour and what makes us laugh - and she did. It might sound a bit old farty to say we went to lectures on board, but they have some great speakers on the ship. She was the best I've ever encountered (obviously apart from myself).
Then I come to an event that I don't mind telling you I was slightly dreading. A masterclass with Marco Pierre White. I had visions of him throwing me out of the kitchen for being useless. But it wasn't the sort of masterclass I imagined. For 2 hours a small group of us sat and watched him cook whilst supping fizz and then we ate what he'd produced. And there was enough of it to send us out of the class 3 stone heavier.
Did you tell him you'd won Come Dine with Me, asked someone on Twitter. No I didn't. It would have been like telling Pavarotti I once busked in the London Underground. On a kazoo.
My heart sank when I heard he was cooking seafood. Not my favourite. But I'm not allergic, I don't come out in lumps at the sight of a prawn so I thought I'd put it away to be polite. It's not that hard to stuff down scallops and lobster, two of the fish I can manage to eat without turning green. First he cooked risotto then served it into small plates and we handed them around to each other, washed down with more Prosecco. My sort of cookery lesson. Then came spaghetti with chilli and more lobster and LOADS of basil. Then pasta, tiny macaroni with (barf alert) tarragon. I hate tarragon. I ate tarragon. Have no idea why I could taste the tarragon in that dish but it WORKED and I wolfed it. As for Marco's cooking: fascinating, effortless. Obvs, as my sons would say. We chatted, we ate, we drank. This wasn't a masterclass, well it was, but it was more lunch with Marco with the masterclass happening in the background. And it was fabulous. And at the end of it all, we received a huge coffee table book of his life and pictures which he signed, posed for photos with us and left us very happy - if stuffed - bunnies.
Did I learn anything? Amazing how much you pick up just observing and talking and not really concentrating on learning things - they just happened along the way.
1. That he cooks with olive oil and not with any fancy rapeseed etc stuff because he just likes olive oil. Simples.
2. That if you want to avoid lumps in your white sauce, make sure you've got more butter than flour in it.
3. Don't cook white sauce with a wooden spoon, use a whisk.
4. Use a spatula instead of a wooden spoon when folding pasta/rice into sauces, far more effective.
5. Use a stack of fresh basil in your sauces, not just a limp sprig.
6. I wish I'd known this before and saved myself HOURS. All that rubbish about making a risotto and adding a leeetle bit of liquid at a time - total bollocks. Chuck in the liquid in one go and you won't end up with a lump of risotto but something that (quote) 'walks across the plate'. I tasted that risotto which hadn't been cooked how the recipe books tell you and it was perfect.
7. That when you're making a fish pie, don't put your mash on then stick it in the oven because your fish will be tough (yep - done this in a bid to recreate his fish pie at home)... but just brown the top of the mash under the grill. And put cheese under and over your mash.
8. That the best way to make a tomato sauce is to use half fresh and half tinned, cook then pass through a conical sieve.
9. Grate your onions and your garlic rather than chop them.
10. That someone can actually make me eat tarragon without me throwing up. That amazed me enough to feature of my learning list.
This afternoon is a joy. The man is a delight to spend time with. An artist. And lovely company. It's a fantastic package - the book alone costs about £25 in the shops - and I would recommend it heartily.
So what else... Always lovely to try new things on a ship - like this salt and vinegar ice-cream, which actually did taste a little salty and balsamicy... and was surprisingly lovely.There was so much food around I started hallucinating and seeing my handbag as a giant biscuit (see Yoshi !)
Some photos do not do justice to the places we visited. We realised that we are 'snappers' and our photos will never be seen in a travel brochure. Would you go to Lisbon knowing that people like the above might be walking around in it?And we found ourselves sitting in the coffee bar - The Tazzine (the Samovar in Here Come The Girls) and having some excellent Teapigs brews. My OH was on the detox stuff, I was on the Up-Beet energiser. We rediscovered a love of tea onboard. Good as I drink far too much coffee! Old-farty again? Possibly - don't care. We enjoyed it.
So how was a week's cruise? Would I recommend it? Would I do it again?
Smashing. Yep. And yep again.
I did think I wouldn't 'bed in' enough on a week's cruise, but I was wrong. Though I do like the fortnight plus trips, I would happily do some more week long ones because it did the trick, gave us a holiday, some 'us' time and felt much longer than the seven days, strangely enough. I thought it might not be worth going away for just a week, but I've now learnt that is codswallop. And I'm biased but we do love P & O and I know where I am with them, what to expect... but also enjoy the new things they throw into the mix like that cookery experience on the last sea day.
I didn't go to the spa because I had a good book and read on the balcony instead. Totally and utterly relaxed, glass of champers at my side, batteries recharging slowly... This is the sort of work I like!
So many people write to me having read Here Come The Girls to say that they've booked their first cruise because of me and booked another whilst they were onboard. Good. It's not for everyone but it's definitely for us.
July 21, 2017
Anyone for a Creative's Head?
I make a few flippant remarks about writers being bonkers. Not all are (obvs) but it does take a certain kind of person to take joy from sitting in a room all day, alone, conjuring stuff out of their heads from memory boxes or absolutely nowhere. Our brains are our powerhouses (give or take a heart). We sit there typing away at a keyboard, tears rolling down our cheeks at the powerful words we write sometimes, or cheering as one of our characters exact revenge – so real are these fictional worlds to us (obviously I refer to the fiction writers here and not those who write cooking manuals). ‘What if’ is our mantra. We spend a lot of time wondering ‘what if this happened to her’ ‘what if that happened to him.’ Anxiety sufferers in the non-book world are crippled by ‘what ifs’. They are beaten with unrelenting sticks of ‘what ifs’ from which they long to escape whilst writers stand there with signposts on our chests directing ‘what if’ traffic towards them. It’s no wonder that writers are prone to anxiety.
Anxiety isn’t depression. Depression is far worse: a black cloud that eats up hope and energy, a terrible thing to have – the worst. Anxiety is exhausting but it creates the energy it needs to feed from. You become hypersensitive to everything around you and what threat is poses. I’ve had it on and off for years, it’s become part of my way of life. It’s usually my friends who tell me when my worries are exceeding ‘normal’ levels. Being a mum of two teenage lads and ailing parents – plus chuck in the menopause - brings what I call those ‘normal’ worries. It is normal to worry that my cocky man-child will not kill himself on a jet ski when he’s off to Ibiza with his equally cocky men-children mates. Normal to worry that my octogenarian parent still thinks she’s able to climb up on a ladder to dust the top of the curtain rails. But when I lie in bed and worry that the ceiling might fall on my head in the middle of the night, for absolutely no reason at all, I know that the red button in my head has started flashing danger.
I know how to manage it. There’s no shame in admitting I need some non-addictive chemical intervention occasionally; something to help me sleep and keep me asleep. I’m sure that the new wave of mindfulness might help, except I can’t sit still long enough to meditate. My mouth would be saying ‘Om mani padme hum’ but my head would be thinking ‘Oh shit, I’ve just thought of a plot hole in chapter 5’. Plus I haven’t managed the Lotus position since 1975.
Those periods where I am at my most manic, where my brain is spinning like a top, are my most creative times. I am in writer’s heaven. I’m at my worst and my best all at once. That is the curse of anxiety for me, it is the conjoined twin of my imagination. Anxiety opens doors to chambers in my head that only it has the key to. It nudges me awake at three in the morning with the best ideas. Without it, I wouldn’t be a writer. Or, at least, I’d be one that had enough writer’s blocks to build a mansion with.
I’m not alone, I know. Loads of creatives are fruitcakes with added sultanas, we are renowned for it. Renowned for our excesses and our greed and ambition, renowned for our insecurities, yet we are drawn to the most insecure jobs on the planet. Anxiety is part of my life and my world and so I cannot deny it entry but, like a demanding relative who has stayed too long at Christmas, there comes a time when I am too tired to entertain it. I need uninterrupted sleep. I need to walk down the road without thinking that a car is going to plough into the back of me. So it is forcefully shown the door, until I realise that I miss its company and the inspiration it brings and ask it to pop back for a cuppa, but it always arrives with its suitcase, and so the cycle begins again. We are old enemies and old friends, anxiety and I. I am at my most clear-thinking in my work when I am at my most chaotic away from the desk. Take it or leave it, that’s the unnegotiable deal it puts on the table.
I take it.
June 3, 2017
A Smashing Launch
I would love to thank everyone who came to my launch and made it such a sterling success. The Staniforth's cakes were up to standard - sorry, that's a lie - they were the BEST YET.
Here we have the calm before the storm
My other half and myself spent the day before stocking the bags with Walkers Shortbread, Balhsen Biscuits and My Trusty oils.
The girls were hard at work in the back making a buffet fit for a queen! And boy did they pull it off!
Mum was first in on the night.
Though it soon filled up - panic though as my two helpers The Hunter Sisters were stuck in traffic and we would have had to cancel everything if they hadn't arrived... but luckily for us all - there they are in the front row!
The cakes were sitting pretty in the next room... with the buffet to outshine all other buffets!
And the cakes that people brought as prizes!!!
These by my lovely friend Cakes by Christina!
I got to take a smaller version of this home as the baker had made me one. It was gorgeous!
They were just too nice to eat!
This was about half the raffle prizes!
Here is the winner of the Rob Royd Hamper - a joint star prize with the £50 Spencers Arms voucher for a slap up meal in Cawthorne.
Every year Sandra and Caroline have come up trumps - and this was the best launch yet.
...possibly something to do with my good luck emblem on my cake.
Next year we will be doing something, not quite sure what yet, but there will be a celebration.Thank you to everyone for supporting me. We raised £1500 for charity - split between Yorkshire Cat Rescue and The Well. And I think everyone went home with a full tum and - if not a raffle prize - at least a stuffed goody bag and a big hunk of cake.
Lots of love
Milly xxx
Here we have the calm before the storm
My other half and myself spent the day before stocking the bags with Walkers Shortbread, Balhsen Biscuits and My Trusty oils.
The girls were hard at work in the back making a buffet fit for a queen! And boy did they pull it off!
Mum was first in on the night.
Though it soon filled up - panic though as my two helpers The Hunter Sisters were stuck in traffic and we would have had to cancel everything if they hadn't arrived... but luckily for us all - there they are in the front row!
The cakes were sitting pretty in the next room... with the buffet to outshine all other buffets!
And the cakes that people brought as prizes!!!
These by my lovely friend Cakes by Christina!
I got to take a smaller version of this home as the baker had made me one. It was gorgeous!
They were just too nice to eat!
This was about half the raffle prizes!
Here is the winner of the Rob Royd Hamper - a joint star prize with the £50 Spencers Arms voucher for a slap up meal in Cawthorne.
Every year Sandra and Caroline have come up trumps - and this was the best launch yet.
...possibly something to do with my good luck emblem on my cake.Next year we will be doing something, not quite sure what yet, but there will be a celebration.Thank you to everyone for supporting me. We raised £1500 for charity - split between Yorkshire Cat Rescue and The Well. And I think everyone went home with a full tum and - if not a raffle prize - at least a stuffed goody bag and a big hunk of cake.
Lots of love
Milly xxx
April 29, 2017
Our Big Dog
In addition to the dedication in my book - this is the full story of our Big Dog.
People associate Yorkshiremen with flat caps and whippets. Not so my grandfather, who might have favoured the headgear, but he was never without a Chow at his side. He had a succession of them, shipped to him from all over the country during his lifetime. Leonine fluffballs of one-man dogs which were totally devoted to him but still endured my cuddles as a child. My sons were as desperate for a dog as I was as a child, but I knew who would be lumbered with all the daily walks so I bought them a kitten each instead. Then I thought sod it, and we got a dog as well.
My initial choice was a familiar Chow. I don’t know how or when I fell upon Eurasiers, a relatively new breed, a mingle of Chow and Spitz, bred for their teddy bear looks and friendly devotion to their whole family, but I was sold. Teddy came to us just after Christmas 2008. We had to drive down to Southampton for him one foggy, snowy January night. He slept the whole way, give or take half an hour when my younger son sang Little Donkey to him to soothe his distress. He was a huge fox-red pup and we named him Teddy because he looked like a living teddy bear. He loved everyone and everything, although my cats firmly put him in his place of bottom of the pecking order. Puppy-training classes were fun if embarrassing, because Ted was so terrified of the instructor, he opened his bladder and bowels as soon as he saw him. But eventually, after the world’s longest apprenticeship, Ted learned to be obedient – albeit when he wanted to be. He grew into an all-mouth-and-trousers lad. Strangers to the house were terrified of his deep bass bark never knowing that he wouldn’t have harmed a fly. Little children on the school either ran to him for a cuddle or increased their grip on their mothers’ hands because of the ‘lion’ walking towards them. And that’s what he looked like, as if God had designed a dog that was half-lion, half-bear and then stuck a huge smile on his face. He was such a magnificent boy we were asked to breed from him. A bitch in season came to visit, Ted was useless. He was more interested in sitting beside her in the sunshine and showing off his toys. When the bitch mounted him as if trying to show him what to do, we shook our heads and realised this was not to be. But I wanted him to have a line of succession so much, in case the day came when he was no longer with us and maybe we could have one of his own boys, to keep us connected. It never happened. Teddy was as rubbish at mating as he was at being a hardman.
He accepted the presence of new pets – rescue cats, a rabbit we found hopping about on the road with grace and resigned sighs. He was with us constantly. When we all dressed up to watch England play in the Euros, Ted was there on the sofa in his England shirt too. He loved to ride in the back of the car because that meant he was with us. He slept at the side of my bed, he sat at the side of the bath when I was in it. If the boys went into the garden to have a kick-around, he was there with them.
When we left him to go to the supermarket, he greeted us as if we’d been away for twenty years. He sat by my side in my office everyday when I wrote, he sat on my feet when I watched TV at night. We thought we’d have him forever. When he was seven last year, the thought hit me that he might be halfway through his life and I didn’t even want to think about that. If only he had been.
Just after Christmas, I noticed that when he went out into the garden for a quick wee, his whole body crunched over and locked for too long. An exploratory procedure at the vets revealed that he had a tumour in his bladder. Inoperable and terminal. Bladder cancer is sly and wicked, it takes up residence, beds itself in and then announces its presence with a ‘Hi, I’m here, staying and growing and there’s nothing you can do about it.’ Medicine that had a slim chance of sending the cancer into remission made Ted very sick and miserable and we had to make the decision to give him quality of the life he had left. We cancelled any holidays we had planned, scrubbed the diary clean of anything that wasn’t essential and prepared ourselves. I couldn’t turn off the tears until my other half told me that I had to stop mourning him before he had gone. We were lost and we needed to plough our energies somewhere. As Ted loved being outside in the garden, that’s where we started.
We designed a pergola so he could sit outside sheltered from the rain and let the breezes ruffle his thick fur. Then we had a summer house built to be a happy place where we could remember him, have friends round and fill with company or I could get away from it all and be alone and write. As a four we painted it inside and out – whilst Ted sat on the lawn and supervised us. We had the mad idea of making it look like an American diner. Of calling it Big Dogs, after Ted, of having his image printed on mugs and serviettes, of it being a place stamped with his big dog personality, and filled with his essence. Somewhere he would always be part of.
I was also writing The Queen of Wishful Thinking at the time. Ted slipped onto the pages as he slept in my office because I knew this was the last book I would ever write with him at my side. All the emotion I felt coursed from my heart, down my arm, through the keyboard, onto the screen. My dog became an integral part of the story, as he had been an integral part of my life. And I have never had a book that flowed so easily from me.
Ted loved the local park. My other half Pete and I made sure he went there every day for a bounce around. One day I was feeling particularly tender as it was just me and Ted and being alone with my thoughts wasn’t doing me any good. As he took a wee and his whole body crunched over, I felt a woman on a scooter behind me, watching him. ‘Aren’t you going to pick that up?’ she snapped at me, when we started to move off. ‘He hasn’t done anything,’ I replied. She gave me a look of such disgust that I screamed at her that he had bladder cancer and that’s why he took ages. ‘Oh. Poor thing,’ she relented as I shook two handfuls of black bags at her, like a loon. The tears were streaming down my face and they didn’t stop for weeks. I went on anti-depressants and they didn’t even make a hole in my sadness.
The cancer was growing in Teddy’s big beautiful body. He became more and more incontinent, leaking like a rusty tap and constantly needed towelling dry. We had a rainbow over the house and the carpets weren’t even fit for the skip. Every night I put down four double sheets for him to sleep on, every morning I washed them. Sometimes he had good walks, sometimes his bladder refused to tell his brain it had emptied and he was crunched over in discomfort until we found a way to distract him. Sometimes he looked so tired that we thought we would wake up in the morning to find him gone, only to find him pert and bright and ready for the park. His appetite was decreasing and the vet put him on steroids to make him hungry. But the days of dog food were long gone. He wasn’t interested in his normal diet at all and our days were defined by trying to get him to eat anything to keep up his strength, which consisted of everything that he shouldn’t eat. He took a liking to fried fish, then he developed a passion for bacon. Then tins of Pek chopped pork, then kippers, then chicken goujons but only with a sprinkle of Mexican spices. Then it was cream doughnuts, then sirloin steak. For a month he had two griddled sirloins per day but only if he was hand-fed them chunk by chunk. Then the only way he would eat them was if my partner Pete balanced a piece on his foot and pretended to give it to him but telling him to leave it, then snatched it away at the last minute – at which point Ted would dive on it. It was exhausting. Often there were five or more choices of food in various plates for him because it was a constant guessing game what his tastebuds demanded on the day. Then they began to demand nothing at all and we were reduced to mixing up powdered ‘Complan for dogs’ and feeding it to him via a syringe, which he hated. I only had to pick up the whisk and he’d run up the stairs out of the way, but it was keeping him alive so we had to persist. He was running on almost empty and getting so thin, but he was like an ox and continued to race around the park, taking a surprising interest in finding conkers like the young boy he was.
Meanwhile Big Dogs was taking shape in the garden. We took mental respite in searching for things on the internet to decorate it with: metal wall signs, old pictures of 50s film stars eating, a sofa, a chair, chequered flooring, a bubble gum machine. We wanted to complete it for my son’s 18th birthday celebrations, always hoping that Ted would be there with us to see it. With Ted trotting at our side from house to summer house, we filled it with balloons, bunting, decorations. We set the popcorn machine going, filled the giant ice bucket with Bud, switched the retro radiator on full and had an amazing fun-filled, warm, family celebration with Ted in the middle of the festivities, just as he always had been.
Then the next morning we took him to his favourite place – the park – and he bounced around like a pup, chasing a ball that didn’t belong to him – something he rarely did. Then suddenly he looked exhausted. He stood on top of the hill and Pete and I watched him just survey the whole vista and I thought ‘he’s saying goodbye to everything he loves here.’ I didn’t say it aloud because it sounded mawkish and dramatically sentimental. Then we got to the car and Pete, who is grounded and sensible, said ‘did you see the way he looked at everything? It was as if he was saying goodbye to the park.’ And we knew we were coming to the end.
The next day – dad’s 84th birthday - Ted was very tired. For the first time, after visiting my parents, we had to lift him into the car when we left. All we had ever wanted was to know was when the time was right to let him go, and we knew without any doubt that he’d had enough. He was very sick, very limp and yet when the postman arrived at the door, he still leapt up to bark, to guard the family he loved from a possible intruder. We slept on the floor with him that night. We told him that it was okay to leave us before the pain really set in, but he wouldn’t desert us. His young heart kept pumping, kept him with us. He’d hung around for the grand unveiling of Big Dogs – the place we’d built with him, for him. The hours of the clock crawled around to the time when we knew we’d have to say goodbye. It was the worst kind of torture. It is a terrible responsibility to free something you love from suffering, a right thing but so very painful. But we were all in no doubt that the time had come. At least we had that comfort.
There was no way that when we let him go that it wouldn’t be in his home. He was weak in his basket when the vet came (eventually after the silly woman on the reception desk gave him the wrong address miles away, which I can’t forgive, and I just can’t go back there) and it took barely no anaesthetic at all to send him on his way. He flopped backwards into my arms and there his head grew heavy and yet still his lungs seemed to try to pull in breaths, determined not let us down and go. He lay in my arms soft and warm and huge like the great big teddy bear he was.
The man from the pet crematorium took him away when he was still warm because I couldn’t bear to feel him grow cold. It took both him and Pete to carry Ted to his van in a lovely big basket. He was kindness itself, gentle, reverent – I’d recommend him to anyone. His ashes came back to us the next day, they weighed a ton. They are at the side of my bed and there they'll stay. One day when I'm sprinkled to a breeze, he'll be with me.
Don't do what I did at the beginning and grieve your pets before they've gone or you'll lose them many times - and once is enough.
The more you love something, the deeper the crater they leave and my Big Dog scooped out my innards and left me hollow. We will move on, because we have to, because this is life and it is its nature to end and those of us who are left, grieve and attempt to rebuild. But I miss everything about him. I miss the ways his ears pricked up when the word ‘Park’ or ‘Ride’ was mentioned. I miss how he squeezed out of the front door when we opened it to force us not to leave him behind. I miss how he pressed himself into you when you wanted some love and how his bottom sashayed like Marilyn Monroe’s when he trotted over grass as he searched for things to urinate upon – his favourite hobby. I miss his night patrols when I would sense his nose near mine, sniffing my breath to make sure I was still alive. I miss how he rushed at us to greet us when we returned home, smiling, happy that we were safely back in his territory. I miss his bulk on my feet as he lay down with us in the evenings around the TV and the way his big brown eyes looked at me as if I was the most special person that God had ever made. A new pup is on its way, but he will be his own man - not a replacement, because Ted is irreplaceable. But we are rebuilding, around the shape of him that he has left in our lives, because our beautiful daft lad, our big dog is – and will always remain – part of us. His family.
People associate Yorkshiremen with flat caps and whippets. Not so my grandfather, who might have favoured the headgear, but he was never without a Chow at his side. He had a succession of them, shipped to him from all over the country during his lifetime. Leonine fluffballs of one-man dogs which were totally devoted to him but still endured my cuddles as a child. My sons were as desperate for a dog as I was as a child, but I knew who would be lumbered with all the daily walks so I bought them a kitten each instead. Then I thought sod it, and we got a dog as well.
My initial choice was a familiar Chow. I don’t know how or when I fell upon Eurasiers, a relatively new breed, a mingle of Chow and Spitz, bred for their teddy bear looks and friendly devotion to their whole family, but I was sold. Teddy came to us just after Christmas 2008. We had to drive down to Southampton for him one foggy, snowy January night. He slept the whole way, give or take half an hour when my younger son sang Little Donkey to him to soothe his distress. He was a huge fox-red pup and we named him Teddy because he looked like a living teddy bear. He loved everyone and everything, although my cats firmly put him in his place of bottom of the pecking order. Puppy-training classes were fun if embarrassing, because Ted was so terrified of the instructor, he opened his bladder and bowels as soon as he saw him. But eventually, after the world’s longest apprenticeship, Ted learned to be obedient – albeit when he wanted to be. He grew into an all-mouth-and-trousers lad. Strangers to the house were terrified of his deep bass bark never knowing that he wouldn’t have harmed a fly. Little children on the school either ran to him for a cuddle or increased their grip on their mothers’ hands because of the ‘lion’ walking towards them. And that’s what he looked like, as if God had designed a dog that was half-lion, half-bear and then stuck a huge smile on his face. He was such a magnificent boy we were asked to breed from him. A bitch in season came to visit, Ted was useless. He was more interested in sitting beside her in the sunshine and showing off his toys. When the bitch mounted him as if trying to show him what to do, we shook our heads and realised this was not to be. But I wanted him to have a line of succession so much, in case the day came when he was no longer with us and maybe we could have one of his own boys, to keep us connected. It never happened. Teddy was as rubbish at mating as he was at being a hardman.
He accepted the presence of new pets – rescue cats, a rabbit we found hopping about on the road with grace and resigned sighs. He was with us constantly. When we all dressed up to watch England play in the Euros, Ted was there on the sofa in his England shirt too. He loved to ride in the back of the car because that meant he was with us. He slept at the side of my bed, he sat at the side of the bath when I was in it. If the boys went into the garden to have a kick-around, he was there with them.
When we left him to go to the supermarket, he greeted us as if we’d been away for twenty years. He sat by my side in my office everyday when I wrote, he sat on my feet when I watched TV at night. We thought we’d have him forever. When he was seven last year, the thought hit me that he might be halfway through his life and I didn’t even want to think about that. If only he had been.
Just after Christmas, I noticed that when he went out into the garden for a quick wee, his whole body crunched over and locked for too long. An exploratory procedure at the vets revealed that he had a tumour in his bladder. Inoperable and terminal. Bladder cancer is sly and wicked, it takes up residence, beds itself in and then announces its presence with a ‘Hi, I’m here, staying and growing and there’s nothing you can do about it.’ Medicine that had a slim chance of sending the cancer into remission made Ted very sick and miserable and we had to make the decision to give him quality of the life he had left. We cancelled any holidays we had planned, scrubbed the diary clean of anything that wasn’t essential and prepared ourselves. I couldn’t turn off the tears until my other half told me that I had to stop mourning him before he had gone. We were lost and we needed to plough our energies somewhere. As Ted loved being outside in the garden, that’s where we started.
We designed a pergola so he could sit outside sheltered from the rain and let the breezes ruffle his thick fur. Then we had a summer house built to be a happy place where we could remember him, have friends round and fill with company or I could get away from it all and be alone and write. As a four we painted it inside and out – whilst Ted sat on the lawn and supervised us. We had the mad idea of making it look like an American diner. Of calling it Big Dogs, after Ted, of having his image printed on mugs and serviettes, of it being a place stamped with his big dog personality, and filled with his essence. Somewhere he would always be part of.
I was also writing The Queen of Wishful Thinking at the time. Ted slipped onto the pages as he slept in my office because I knew this was the last book I would ever write with him at my side. All the emotion I felt coursed from my heart, down my arm, through the keyboard, onto the screen. My dog became an integral part of the story, as he had been an integral part of my life. And I have never had a book that flowed so easily from me.
Ted loved the local park. My other half Pete and I made sure he went there every day for a bounce around. One day I was feeling particularly tender as it was just me and Ted and being alone with my thoughts wasn’t doing me any good. As he took a wee and his whole body crunched over, I felt a woman on a scooter behind me, watching him. ‘Aren’t you going to pick that up?’ she snapped at me, when we started to move off. ‘He hasn’t done anything,’ I replied. She gave me a look of such disgust that I screamed at her that he had bladder cancer and that’s why he took ages. ‘Oh. Poor thing,’ she relented as I shook two handfuls of black bags at her, like a loon. The tears were streaming down my face and they didn’t stop for weeks. I went on anti-depressants and they didn’t even make a hole in my sadness.
The cancer was growing in Teddy’s big beautiful body. He became more and more incontinent, leaking like a rusty tap and constantly needed towelling dry. We had a rainbow over the house and the carpets weren’t even fit for the skip. Every night I put down four double sheets for him to sleep on, every morning I washed them. Sometimes he had good walks, sometimes his bladder refused to tell his brain it had emptied and he was crunched over in discomfort until we found a way to distract him. Sometimes he looked so tired that we thought we would wake up in the morning to find him gone, only to find him pert and bright and ready for the park. His appetite was decreasing and the vet put him on steroids to make him hungry. But the days of dog food were long gone. He wasn’t interested in his normal diet at all and our days were defined by trying to get him to eat anything to keep up his strength, which consisted of everything that he shouldn’t eat. He took a liking to fried fish, then he developed a passion for bacon. Then tins of Pek chopped pork, then kippers, then chicken goujons but only with a sprinkle of Mexican spices. Then it was cream doughnuts, then sirloin steak. For a month he had two griddled sirloins per day but only if he was hand-fed them chunk by chunk. Then the only way he would eat them was if my partner Pete balanced a piece on his foot and pretended to give it to him but telling him to leave it, then snatched it away at the last minute – at which point Ted would dive on it. It was exhausting. Often there were five or more choices of food in various plates for him because it was a constant guessing game what his tastebuds demanded on the day. Then they began to demand nothing at all and we were reduced to mixing up powdered ‘Complan for dogs’ and feeding it to him via a syringe, which he hated. I only had to pick up the whisk and he’d run up the stairs out of the way, but it was keeping him alive so we had to persist. He was running on almost empty and getting so thin, but he was like an ox and continued to race around the park, taking a surprising interest in finding conkers like the young boy he was.
Meanwhile Big Dogs was taking shape in the garden. We took mental respite in searching for things on the internet to decorate it with: metal wall signs, old pictures of 50s film stars eating, a sofa, a chair, chequered flooring, a bubble gum machine. We wanted to complete it for my son’s 18th birthday celebrations, always hoping that Ted would be there with us to see it. With Ted trotting at our side from house to summer house, we filled it with balloons, bunting, decorations. We set the popcorn machine going, filled the giant ice bucket with Bud, switched the retro radiator on full and had an amazing fun-filled, warm, family celebration with Ted in the middle of the festivities, just as he always had been.
Then the next morning we took him to his favourite place – the park – and he bounced around like a pup, chasing a ball that didn’t belong to him – something he rarely did. Then suddenly he looked exhausted. He stood on top of the hill and Pete and I watched him just survey the whole vista and I thought ‘he’s saying goodbye to everything he loves here.’ I didn’t say it aloud because it sounded mawkish and dramatically sentimental. Then we got to the car and Pete, who is grounded and sensible, said ‘did you see the way he looked at everything? It was as if he was saying goodbye to the park.’ And we knew we were coming to the end.
The next day – dad’s 84th birthday - Ted was very tired. For the first time, after visiting my parents, we had to lift him into the car when we left. All we had ever wanted was to know was when the time was right to let him go, and we knew without any doubt that he’d had enough. He was very sick, very limp and yet when the postman arrived at the door, he still leapt up to bark, to guard the family he loved from a possible intruder. We slept on the floor with him that night. We told him that it was okay to leave us before the pain really set in, but he wouldn’t desert us. His young heart kept pumping, kept him with us. He’d hung around for the grand unveiling of Big Dogs – the place we’d built with him, for him. The hours of the clock crawled around to the time when we knew we’d have to say goodbye. It was the worst kind of torture. It is a terrible responsibility to free something you love from suffering, a right thing but so very painful. But we were all in no doubt that the time had come. At least we had that comfort.
There was no way that when we let him go that it wouldn’t be in his home. He was weak in his basket when the vet came (eventually after the silly woman on the reception desk gave him the wrong address miles away, which I can’t forgive, and I just can’t go back there) and it took barely no anaesthetic at all to send him on his way. He flopped backwards into my arms and there his head grew heavy and yet still his lungs seemed to try to pull in breaths, determined not let us down and go. He lay in my arms soft and warm and huge like the great big teddy bear he was.
The man from the pet crematorium took him away when he was still warm because I couldn’t bear to feel him grow cold. It took both him and Pete to carry Ted to his van in a lovely big basket. He was kindness itself, gentle, reverent – I’d recommend him to anyone. His ashes came back to us the next day, they weighed a ton. They are at the side of my bed and there they'll stay. One day when I'm sprinkled to a breeze, he'll be with me.
Don't do what I did at the beginning and grieve your pets before they've gone or you'll lose them many times - and once is enough.
The more you love something, the deeper the crater they leave and my Big Dog scooped out my innards and left me hollow. We will move on, because we have to, because this is life and it is its nature to end and those of us who are left, grieve and attempt to rebuild. But I miss everything about him. I miss the ways his ears pricked up when the word ‘Park’ or ‘Ride’ was mentioned. I miss how he squeezed out of the front door when we opened it to force us not to leave him behind. I miss how he pressed himself into you when you wanted some love and how his bottom sashayed like Marilyn Monroe’s when he trotted over grass as he searched for things to urinate upon – his favourite hobby. I miss his night patrols when I would sense his nose near mine, sniffing my breath to make sure I was still alive. I miss how he rushed at us to greet us when we returned home, smiling, happy that we were safely back in his territory. I miss his bulk on my feet as he lay down with us in the evenings around the TV and the way his big brown eyes looked at me as if I was the most special person that God had ever made. A new pup is on its way, but he will be his own man - not a replacement, because Ted is irreplaceable. But we are rebuilding, around the shape of him that he has left in our lives, because our beautiful daft lad, our big dog is – and will always remain – part of us. His family.
April 12, 2017
LADY WHO LAUNCHES
Well here we are again, gearing up for yet another launch. This will be my last one like this though. Always good to have a change and for all sorts of reasons, we do need a bit of a different format to keep things fresh. I don't want to be known as the woman with the begging bowl constantly out so it will be a good one, a big one, but the last of its kind like this.
But I'm so incredibly well supported by people to support Yorkshire Cat Rescue and The Well and the prizes are starting to come in. So here is a massive shout out to all the lovely people who have sent things so far. The list will keep getting updated. And if you see anything you like, please get in touch with the people and give them a bit of trade.
In no order at all - here are what people who come to the launch are in for.
From the wonderful Masque Photography - a boudoir make up and photography session (with or without the bump). Ladies who have had this experience have told me it is amazing and has given them an injection of confidence they didn't think possible. These experiences make fabulous presents.
And this wonderful bundle from my gorgeous friend CAROLE MATTHEWS. If you haven't signed up to her newsletter then you really should. You can win all sorts of goodies. I've been a fan of Carole's for many years - in and out of book world.
*
SUNDAY LUNCH for 4 at our wonderful Holiday Inn up the road.
*
Two fabulous books by the lovely Debbie Viggiano. She is a wonderful read!
We have a voucher for flowers from Andrea Graham. Treat yourself if you win - we don't think of ourselves enough sometimes.
This gorgeous agate bracelet arrived from Gina. It's really pretty. She has an interesting Facebook page here
I could do with this one! A chiropody session - get all those corns off so your feet are beach ready! Thank you Carmen (who can be reached on 01226 759660.
This glass bowl is so pretty - my rubbish pics don't do it justice. But do have a look at Pam's website where she makes the most beautiful things. And with proper photography to show it off.
There was a huge bundle of handcrafted cards, brooches and wallhangings from the very talented Ruth Zanoni. Beautiful mermaids (big fan of mermaids me!)
Everyone who comes to my event will be given some MY TRUSTY SKINCARE oil. I use it everyday and I want the world to know how good it is. You can buy online or at Tesco and Superdrug now too.
But I'm so incredibly well supported by people to support Yorkshire Cat Rescue and The Well and the prizes are starting to come in. So here is a massive shout out to all the lovely people who have sent things so far. The list will keep getting updated. And if you see anything you like, please get in touch with the people and give them a bit of trade.
In no order at all - here are what people who come to the launch are in for.
From the wonderful Masque Photography - a boudoir make up and photography session (with or without the bump). Ladies who have had this experience have told me it is amazing and has given them an injection of confidence they didn't think possible. These experiences make fabulous presents. 
And this wonderful bundle from my gorgeous friend CAROLE MATTHEWS. If you haven't signed up to her newsletter then you really should. You can win all sorts of goodies. I've been a fan of Carole's for many years - in and out of book world. *
SUNDAY LUNCH for 4 at our wonderful Holiday Inn up the road.
*
Two fabulous books by the lovely Debbie Viggiano. She is a wonderful read!
We have a voucher for flowers from Andrea Graham. Treat yourself if you win - we don't think of ourselves enough sometimes.
This gorgeous agate bracelet arrived from Gina. It's really pretty. She has an interesting Facebook page here
I could do with this one! A chiropody session - get all those corns off so your feet are beach ready! Thank you Carmen (who can be reached on 01226 759660.
This glass bowl is so pretty - my rubbish pics don't do it justice. But do have a look at Pam's website where she makes the most beautiful things. And with proper photography to show it off.
There was a huge bundle of handcrafted cards, brooches and wallhangings from the very talented Ruth Zanoni. Beautiful mermaids (big fan of mermaids me!) 
Everyone who comes to my event will be given some MY TRUSTY SKINCARE oil. I use it everyday and I want the world to know how good it is. You can buy online or at Tesco and Superdrug now too. December 31, 2016
My Love Affair with the Brontes - and Haworth
Did you see 'To Walk Invisible'? I loved it. And it made me reflective about my years living in Haworth. And I mean living. I've never written it down before... so here you go. My love affair with the Brontes - and Haworth. My love affair with Haworth and the Brontes began at the perfect time to cultivate a breeding ground of angst and passions in my schoolgirl heart, fertilised with burgeoning sex hormones and longings to snog someone handsome (at that time it was a bloke called Keith with a blonde perm who caught the same bus as me in the mornings). Jane Eyre was one of our set texts at school. From the moment I encountered Rochester I was in love. That book had everything for me – fabulous house: check, I’ll have my own Thornfield one day, I always said to myself. A heroine I could identify with: small, plain but bloody clever (2 out of 3), a hero I wanted to snog the face off and love me. Oh and the beautiful love rival who doesn’t get a look in. Jog on Blanche. Everything. I wanted to have written that book. My friend Gillian and I used to have write-offs in the school playground. Hers were jaw-droppingly good, mine were the desperate efforts of someone who wanted to be that good and tried too hard. Skipping forward to the end, I wanted it so bad I made it happen, Gillian took another route and makes historical costumes also to jaw-dropping standard (talented bitch) https://www.facebook.com/people/Gillian-Taylor/100004439568738. Those years, that book, they were very influential to me. And her.
I have seen every version of Wuthering Heights on the TV (including the Cliff Richard one) and read the book so many times but it never affected me in the way that Jane Eyre did. Even picturing Timothy Dalton as Heathcliff (my perfect casting) I couldn’t raise a sweat for him. I couldn’t get behind Cathy as a heroine and when Heathcliff hangs the dog, well, we were finished. But I fell in love with the main character in that book – the moors. I wanted to go there so much and see if they were as wild and windy as Kate Bush said they were. Emily’s poetry was her main attraction for me. I didn’t even try and emulate that. Gillian did and came out with some fabulous stuff. I just read and enjoyed and sighed at its gorgeousness.
There were, however, a couple of sequels to Wuthering Heights that Gillian and I sucked up like a sponge. Return to Wuthering Heights by Anna L’Estrange hit the spot for me. We LOVED that book. Not so much Heathcliff by Jeffrey Caine, a conflicting story and the first time I ever came across the word ‘pizzle’ so there were some lessons to be learned.
Talking of books written around the Bronte works… please don’t even mention The Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. I do not want any book that gives all the sympathy to the Mason family and makes Rochester out to be an unfeeling bastard, thank you.
I digress…
The first time I actually went to Haworth my head blew off.
I didn’t expect it to look like the pictures. I didn’t expect the main road to be so cobbley, I didn’t expect the moors to look as if they went on forever. I didn’t imagine the churchyard to be so tumbledown and eerie and the parsonage to look so beautiful. I wanted to live there in the village so much. It was never in doubt that I would.
It happened when I was in my early twenties. I had the world’s shittiest job in a building society. Numbers and me are not friends so whatever possessed me to become a trainee accountant, God only knows. Maybe had it not been so dire, I wouldn’t have burst out of my confines like a nuclear powered jack-in-the-box. I used to skive off work and go to Haworth for the day, usually when it was mid-week and wintery. That’s when Haworth is at its bleakest, foggiest, eeriest best, as if time has rolled back. There was a craft shop down the hill which I liked to visit and a café cum bookshop at the bottom which sold the best Caerphilly and onion sandwiches on the planet. I even applied for a job at the Bronte museum, telling them they would get no one more passionate about the place than I was. I received a letter back saying more or less: ‘meh’.
It was the 80s. Total madness to uproot and buy a place there when the mortgage rates were ridiculously high, especially when I had no job. So I did it. Myself and my trusty sheepdog Molly wangled a mortgage somehow and moved to a 400 year old cottage just outside the village, which became the location for the Anne, Emily and Charlotte cottages in White Wedding. I found a job working in an antique and furniture place ‘Moor Lodge’ which the owner had beaten Roger Moore to buying. There I worked with 3 wonderful older ladies who were to give me my inspiration for the cross generational friendship in Summer Fling. It took me five minutes to get to work on a road where barn owls would fly at the side of the car. The road was high above the valley bowl and mist would fill it and swirl – the inspiration for Sunshine over Wildflower Cottage. I hopped from job to job during my years in Haworth: working in a mill, a plastic injection moulding firm, a cruise company in Skipton who sacked me for ‘having an accent better suited to the textile industry where I came from.’ I vowed there and then that any book I ever wrote would be stuffed so full of Yorkshire it would ooze onion gravy. But as crap as all the jobs were, the mates I picked up en route were the toppest birds you could ever meet.
Romance-wise, I hooked up with a lad I worked with whose family lived in the house opposite the parsonage as his granny looked after the church. Mr Nicholls lived there and sometimes when I stayed I wondered if I’d bump into his ghost en route to the loo. We never did pass in the hall though. We bought a derelict cottage at the top of Main Street: Heathcliff Cottage it was called and was the world’s smallest B & B. I gutted it along with my boyfriend’s uncle. I was always handy with a Black and Decker. I even made clocks and sold my woodwork in one of the gift shops in the village. My boyfriend was more like Branwell than Rochester. He was in the Black Bull more than the landlord was. It wasn’t a good romance, but angst is always great for writing books and when he moved onto a leggy blonde, I had a wonderful fling with an incredibly handsome Keighley Cougar. Village life was interesting, rich, funny, wonderful and very colourful. I loved going to the quizzes on Sunday night, the sunny afternoons watching the village cricketers, traipsing en masse down to the Haworth Tandoori for a post-booze-up curry. I laughed a lot in those years. In quieter contemplative times I would take my dog up on the moors, which were as wild and windy as Kate Bush said, but also very beautiful and quite another world. There are millions of bilberries growing with the heather. I remember spending all morning picking them and gathering enough to only make a Mr Kipling size mini pie. There is a hidden lagoon up there too where people once went swimming. Top Withens is a wreck but there is NO doubt about it, it IS Wuthering Heights. The heather bursts into purple flame in August across the moors and is more beautiful than any photo can portray.
My mum and nan used to love to come to Haworth and visit. Their favourite place was The Carousel, an ice-cream parlour half way down Main Street. Anyone who has read my books, might see a point of inspiration there.
The one thing I didn’t have in common with Gillian and other girls at school is that they were horse-mad and used to leap about pretending to be silver brumbies. My heart was never in that nonsense. But once in Haworth, I would see people on horseback taking hacks on the moors and so I paid for private riding lessons. My work wage was rubbish but I had a second job up at the Edinburgh Woollen Mill folding jumpers for 6 hours on Sundays dressed in a blue kilt (kill me now. But I did get a great discount on clootie dumplings which everyone got for Christmas). And I became a barmaid at The Royal Oak by the railway station, Wednesdays and Sundays and the family who ran it were fantastic. It was the best fun. That paid for my riding lessons and soon myself and Duke, the biggest, dopiest and sweetest Cleveland Bay in the world, and I were moseying over the moors for hours on Sunday mornings – bliss.
My husband was a Haworth boy. His mum worked at ‘Villette’ the coffee shop down the road. His dad was an ex-quarry worker. It was he, when we were courting, who told me that Stan the nice bearded bloke I’d known to say hello to was the god that is Stan Barstow. Our English teachers at school had three major passions: The Brontes, Thomas Hardy and Stan. It didn’t make a difference, although I did become suddenly awe-struck and had to force myself to talk normally to him. I never told him I wanted to be a writer, I didn’t want him thinking I spoke to him for any other reason than he was a nice friendly villager, though years later, when I got my first book published I did write to him (he’d moved away then) and confess. And he wrote me the most wonderful encouraging and fond letter back. He came to my wedding and my old schoolfriends couldn’t believe it was him, writer of our set texts. I spent more time with them and Stan on my wedding day than I did my new husband. We were blasted! It was a good call. They were much better company.
It was whilst living in Haworth when I met the friends at work who became pregnant the same time that I did. After years of trying to crack writing a book, I started to write The Yorkshire Pudding Club. I never looked back.
My marriage crumbled and I moved back to Barnsley needing the support of my family. But I never divorced myself from my in-laws and I go back to Haworth to see them, and my friends – one of my dearest being the woman who introduced me to the joy of cats and I became patron of Haworth Cat Rescue, now Yorkshire Cat Rescue. Haworth will always be part of me, and I will always be part of Haworth – my own son is a Haworth boy. And I still take the hour drive there sometimes, alone, just to walk up the Main Street, see all the changes. Stroll through the churchyard, visit the parsonage, see my old house (which will be worth a fortune now!), venture onto the moors and just look at its greatness, which changes every day, reflecting the mood of the clouds above it. There is no place quite like the moors of Haworth.
I moved there to be smitten by the Brontes, to be visited by their dead spirits. All that romantic crap you come up with when you’re pretentious and young. I can’t confess that I ever awoke with Charlotte whispering plots in my ears, but Haworth worked its magic on me. My years there gave me enough material to write volumes. The Brontes fired me up, inspired me, started my brain thinking, ‘I want to write books.’ Jane Eyre remains my constant favourite book, I never tire of it. I went there searching for magic and, with 13 books behind me, I think I found it.
June 23, 2016
The Big Launch
I had the most amazing book launch party on Monday - at my usual venue, Mapplewell Village Hall. Nearly 250 people were there to help me celebrate... and the sun came out in force. I have never had a book launch there when there has been less than scorching weather and I thought this might have been a first - but no!
Oh and a collection for Claire Throssell raised £157.78!!!
It's a family affair setting everything up. There are a LOT of goody bags to fill... with loads of stuff kindly donated by Yorkshire Tea, My Trusty sunflower cream, Aunt Bessie, Bahlsen Biscuits, Walkers Shortbread... then we have pens and pads (stationery - compulsory) the wonderful bags themselves and some great Tea t-owls. It was owl-heavy...
The staff at the hall are amazing. The buffet is to die for. The scones are the best in known universe... and the enormous cakes by Staniforths... more than up to standard with the owls, love-in-a-mist, sunshines and Wildflower Cottage itself.
Here are the wonderful Sandra and Caroline who run the hall hard at work... as always
The raffle prize table was heaving with hampers and presents from Pellers (my Ice Wine which the winner had to wrestle from my hand) and Kiss Air Candles, gorgeously themed scented things from Wax Lyrical
And the WH Smith girls had even bedecked the bookshop table with owls too!
and my lovely Team Milly ladies gave me a beautiful owl mug and the MOST GORGEOUS BROLLY EVER... with owls on it also. And a cheque for the Claire Throssell fund.
Here are some pictures from the night. Lots of people contributed to Claire's bucket and we raised £1109.00 for Yorkshire Cat Rescue and The Well, which is a therapy centre for cancer patients in Barnsley. It was the best launch yet. The raffle does go on a bit, but there is a lot to get through. I couldn't do it without my team of ladies...
This gorgeous trio are my essentials - Isabelle, Phyllis and Amelia - they're fabulous.
Someone sent me this...4 launch years... 4 hairdos!
So here's the gallery... we had a great time, I think it shows.
Mum caught up with someone she used to work with!
Someone couldn't wait to get into the goody bag...
Adopted daughters for the evening! They both used to be knee height to me!!!
The raffle is what they all come for... and the buffet. I'm just the person they have to sit through to get to it.
Until next year, folks! Thank you all xxxxx
Oh and a collection for Claire Throssell raised £157.78!!!
It's a family affair setting everything up. There are a LOT of goody bags to fill... with loads of stuff kindly donated by Yorkshire Tea, My Trusty sunflower cream, Aunt Bessie, Bahlsen Biscuits, Walkers Shortbread... then we have pens and pads (stationery - compulsory) the wonderful bags themselves and some great Tea t-owls. It was owl-heavy...
The staff at the hall are amazing. The buffet is to die for. The scones are the best in known universe... and the enormous cakes by Staniforths... more than up to standard with the owls, love-in-a-mist, sunshines and Wildflower Cottage itself.
Here are the wonderful Sandra and Caroline who run the hall hard at work... as always
The raffle prize table was heaving with hampers and presents from Pellers (my Ice Wine which the winner had to wrestle from my hand) and Kiss Air Candles, gorgeously themed scented things from Wax Lyrical
And the WH Smith girls had even bedecked the bookshop table with owls too!
and my lovely Team Milly ladies gave me a beautiful owl mug and the MOST GORGEOUS BROLLY EVER... with owls on it also. And a cheque for the Claire Throssell fund.
Here are some pictures from the night. Lots of people contributed to Claire's bucket and we raised £1109.00 for Yorkshire Cat Rescue and The Well, which is a therapy centre for cancer patients in Barnsley. It was the best launch yet. The raffle does go on a bit, but there is a lot to get through. I couldn't do it without my team of ladies...
This gorgeous trio are my essentials - Isabelle, Phyllis and Amelia - they're fabulous.Someone sent me this...4 launch years... 4 hairdos!
So here's the gallery... we had a great time, I think it shows.
Mum caught up with someone she used to work with!
Someone couldn't wait to get into the goody bag...
Adopted daughters for the evening! They both used to be knee height to me!!!
The raffle is what they all come for... and the buffet. I'm just the person they have to sit through to get to it.
Until next year, folks! Thank you all xxxxx
June 5, 2016
What you can win if you 1) go to my launch 2) read my social media posts!
I am gearing up for the big launch - and as usual, people have been so generous. There are some great and quirky things out there... and the great and the good should have a bit of advertising as a thank you... so here is a list of all the people who are supporting my launch, who have donated gifts to help me raise money for my charities as we celebrate - Yorkshire Cat Rescue and THE WELL. And there will be a bucket for Claire available on the launch night just in case anyone wants to contribute to the fund for her.
Some of these, however, will be competition prizes for anyone to win... so do watch out!
And please, give a bit back to these people. Support their businesses, have a look at their sites. KARMA!
THANKS TO...
Christa AckroydAnyone want to stay at Christa's beautiful holiday home Brook House in beautiful Bronte Country. A night's bed and breakfast in this gorgeous place is up for grabs!
Aunt BessiesAs always a HUGE thank you to Aunt Bessie herself for supplying all my goody bags with £1 off vouchers. Which are NEVER wasted, because we all buy something from AB don't we?
BahlsenWho make brilliant biscuits (don't get me started on the joys of their orange cake Messino biscuits) and are supremely generous at supplying my goody bags. And they also have a great site with recipes and competitions. AND a book club!!!
BIDBIMy bags are the perfect size... everyone at the launch will get one, but also, there will be lots given away as prizes. They're local to South Yorkshire... and here is their link. They're used a lot for beach bags... so watch out for a competition to see who can send me the best pic of their bag on a beach!
BlinkBlink of Preston made me my bookmarks this year. They did my artwork, because I am rubbish at it, and got the bookmarks to me at a record price and in record time and I would flaming love to recommend them to you.
Bonheur BroochesHere is a wonderful idea... Bonheur Brooches take a favourite piece of clothing from your baby's favourite baby-gro to your grandmothers best blouse and make custom brooches from it. I know the proprietor and everything she touches is so beautifully well-crafted.
Bridget's BoutiqueWhat a gorgeous place to shop for clothes, accessories, lingerie... here at Bridget's Boutique... and I have a £50 voucher to spend her for some lucky person. Pop by and look, it's beautiful!
Moyra Blayney
Artwork all the way from the beautiful Emerald Isle. https://www.facebook.com/MoyraBlayneyArt/?pnref=story Aren't Moyra's paintings serene and restful?
Cafe Creme
The gorgeous little pearl of a cafe in Penistone Cafe Creme - http://www.thecafecreme.co.uk - are donating a breakfast for 2! (I'd park myself for an hour or two after eating and have a cake as well... all homemade...sigh!)
Denise's Boxes
Oh oh oh... I have one of these cuties up for grabs. Check out the page https://www.facebook.com/Denises-Boxes-Denise-McDowell-Art-285622514836058/?hc_location=ufi I love these and I want one and I want one now!
Flutterby Lashes
A lovely set of nail gel overlays for someone from Flutterby! Check them out on their Facebook page here... https://www.facebook.com/flutterby.lashes.9/?hc_location=ufi
Hair ShackThe Hair Shack is on Park Street in Wombwell and they've donated a cut and finish for some lucky person. My favourite thing is to get a hairdo... so hope whoever wins this... enjoys the pamper.Facebook link: https://www.facebook.com/HairShackWom...
Holiday Inn BarnsleyThe lovely people up at the old Brooklands have donated Sunday Lunch for 4 people for a good lunchtime scoff.
Hothouse
Victoria HowardMy lovely friend and fellow novelist, Victoria, is giving me something special. She writes 'romantic suspense' and is rather good at it :) Her website is here... http://www.victoriahoward.co.uk
Debbie JohnsonMy great and funny friend (no relation - and what a bummer that is) is donating a signed book. I guarantee you will be converted to her stuff if you read it... she is bloody brilliant and a perfect pick-me-up because she's a hoot! Read about her here
Thomas Masters
If you are moving house... you have to use this firm - http://www.thomasmasters.co.uk When I moved, I asked around and everyone gave me this firm's name so I went with them - and they were fabulous. Although I did give them all a migraine when they came to reassemble my four-poster (I forgot to give them the holding screws) Some of them are still in therapy today. They are the best and when I move to my mansion, they'll be the ones I ring. They'll be delighted by that but I expect they'll ask for a 'no-fixy-uppy-bed' clause.
These kind people have donated a £50 M & S voucher. Personally I would spend all that on their Sherry Trifle 'Baileys'. Oh my...
Novel Creations
Someone is going to win one of Novel Creations beautiful hand-crafted book bags in an online competition. These come from America so you won't be able to find them easily here. I have LOADS of them. They are gorgeous.
Magnificent Me!
From the magnificent Maggie (FB - https://www.facebook.com/magnificentmecoaching/ ) chocs and a £30 voucher! Maggie is a very experienced hypnotherapist and life coach who also helps victims of abuse. Full details of her work are here on her website
Mainstream Print
I have to have post-it notes - stationery is obligatory with every book launch so thanks to my friends at Mainstream who give me a great price and fab delivery on mine.
Munkibeads
My lovely clever friend at MUNKIBEADS https://www.facebook.com/Munkibeads/?hc_location=ufi
is giving me a prize too. Her work is so gorgeous !
Papercuts
The wonderful Donna, who is a very talented paper artist, is giving me one of her wares. They are amazing. https://www.facebook.com/search/top/?q=papercuts . She must have the patience of a saint.
Steel City
and my official pen makers... are Steel City in Sheffield. You can't have notepads without pens!! Never let me down (and I came to them after someone REALLY let me down at the last minute. In stepped SC so I stuck with them)
Here's the bookmarks, pen, postcards, post-it
iRentthe wonderful Claire at iRent properties has donated the yummiest prize...Afternoon Tea for Two at the Spiced Pear in Hepworth. Oh my - it is gorgeous there (and they do a gentleman's tea for two as well... have one of each!)
Porky Penguin
They supply fabulous quirky jewellery, prints & pressies... I have a pair of owl earrings up for grabs from them!
Power Plate at Sevenin Wilthorpe have donated 2 x personal training sessions... check them out on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/Power-Plate-at-Seven-1741843166042316/Win it and use it to begin the new you.
Sisters...the Ladies Fashion Chainstore Clothes stall in the upstairs market, unit 20, have donated.... get this... £50 to spend on their goods.It's a brill stall, loads of clothes you'd find in the high street shops but at very different prices. Check out their photos for new stock.Facebook address... https://www.facebook.com/groups/girls...
Steph Saward (facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/Stephs-Craft... always makes my themed jewellery for my launches - wildflowers this year, of course. She has also made me a beautiful white rose for Yorkshire Day and my sunflower jewellery for last year. There are quite a few wonderful owls and wildflowers up for grabs. Steph makes custom made jewellery (as I can testify!)
Margaret Smith Designshttps://www.facebook.com/margaret.smi...
Last year Margaret gave me bookart... this year it's one of these fairylight beauties. Aren't they gorgeous?
MORRISONS
...have given me one of the star prizes... a giant hamper. It was too big for the trolley so I hope whoever wins it has a car!!!
Stressfreeprint...are always brilliant, easy to deal with, make my job a lot easier and sorted me out with a load of promo postcards. Again, a printing firm that I really like dealing with especially when you can go to them with the world's crappiest drawings of what you want... and they give them to proper arty people and make what was in your head the whole time. Heartily recommended! And you can find them... here
Thirsk Falcony Centre
I couldn't have written my book without the people at this fabulous place. I've had some wonderful hours here (http://www.falconrycentre.co.uk) and I'll keep going back and having more.
This is 'Ursula' in my book... in real life he is Avalanche. And he's gorgeous. A day spent up there with the birds (and the lovely family whose centre it is) is a JOY. And I'm going back with 4 winners of a competition to be held. Don't enter it if you don't want to go because this is a lovely day out and we will make sure you have some fabulous photos to take home.
My Trusty...make the loveliest products from sunflower oil. They're part of Salisbury NHS and all profit goes back into the health service. I discovered them last year when I was doing the sunflower book, though it might be a nice gimmick, starting using their stuff after they sent me a tester... and now I've got EVERYONE using it. It's beautiful. The oil is my particular favouriteAnd ...shhh... they've given me a special offer for my readers. If you take a look at their website and you like what you see... email them on sunflowercream@salisbury.nhs.uk, giving your telephone number, they'll take the order over the phone and give you 50% off! Everyone who comes to the launch will be able to try a sample of the cream.
Debbie ViggianoMy lovely friend Debbie has given me one of her lovely signed books - great fun to read. Love her books!
Technically Speaking...My friends at 'Technically Speaking' who mend my iMac and my PCs and my sons' PCs and all our friends PCs (and they found my first book deeeeeep inside my computer after my PC crashed and lost the lot!) have given me a SPY DRONE. It's worth a few bob and you can have great fun with it... or spy on the neighbours/kids/dog's antics.
And if you need Rob's services - and he is a wonder with computers, and very well priced too...Here's the link to reach him
The Knitting Giraffe https://www.facebook.com/knittinggira... made this wonderful, gorgeous giraffe. It's so pretty. And she can make you a giraffe too... check out her lovely Facebook page!
Vets for PetsOur wonderful - and I mean wonderful... I'll tell you about it someday... local pets have given me a voucher for a vaccine for life for a dog, cat or rabbit in the family. This prize is worth a hefty amount (come on, vet's bills... need I say more). I can't recommend them enough. All my animals are with them and I couldn't wish for a better service for them.
Walkers Shortbread.Have been with me from the beginning and are my good luck charm. No launch would be complete without their contribution!
Wax Lyrical
I buy a lot of Wax Lyrical stuff... it smells exactly as it is supposed to and their Bluebell oil inspired me to make my heroine a 'nose' (you'll see what I mean if you read the book). I was so scared they'd run out of it, I bought a whole box full and have one on my desk when I'm working at all times. They make the most beautiful things. Totally worth paying an extra pound or two for because they last. They've given me a box of reed diffusers (I want the Summer Evening one SOOOO much) and candles... for 4 lucky winners!
Yorkshire Blankets& Pauline Ogden
Pauline has made a beautiful heart shaped wreath out of Yorkshire Blankets and I have also 2 beautiful Yorkshire Blankets for the raffle.
(on facebook here... https://www.facebook.com/yorkshirebla... )
And if you want to see the blankets in the flesh... go along to Cawthorne Antiques centre as there's a unit of them in there - they are beautiful, hard-wearing (obviously - they're YORKSHIRE BLANKETS) and made of PROPER WOOL.
good old YORKSHIRE TEA
Everyone who comes to my launch will be able to have a good old brew thanks to YT.
Zena Claire
...taking the alphabetical last slot is the Colour Specialists Hairdressers on Summer Lane giving a cut and finish in their well established salon.
Their Facebook page is here!
( https://www.facebook.com/search/35292... )
Some of these, however, will be competition prizes for anyone to win... so do watch out!
And please, give a bit back to these people. Support their businesses, have a look at their sites. KARMA!
THANKS TO...
Christa AckroydAnyone want to stay at Christa's beautiful holiday home Brook House in beautiful Bronte Country. A night's bed and breakfast in this gorgeous place is up for grabs!
Aunt BessiesAs always a HUGE thank you to Aunt Bessie herself for supplying all my goody bags with £1 off vouchers. Which are NEVER wasted, because we all buy something from AB don't we?
BahlsenWho make brilliant biscuits (don't get me started on the joys of their orange cake Messino biscuits) and are supremely generous at supplying my goody bags. And they also have a great site with recipes and competitions. AND a book club!!!
BIDBIMy bags are the perfect size... everyone at the launch will get one, but also, there will be lots given away as prizes. They're local to South Yorkshire... and here is their link. They're used a lot for beach bags... so watch out for a competition to see who can send me the best pic of their bag on a beach!
BlinkBlink of Preston made me my bookmarks this year. They did my artwork, because I am rubbish at it, and got the bookmarks to me at a record price and in record time and I would flaming love to recommend them to you.
Bonheur BroochesHere is a wonderful idea... Bonheur Brooches take a favourite piece of clothing from your baby's favourite baby-gro to your grandmothers best blouse and make custom brooches from it. I know the proprietor and everything she touches is so beautifully well-crafted.
Bridget's BoutiqueWhat a gorgeous place to shop for clothes, accessories, lingerie... here at Bridget's Boutique... and I have a £50 voucher to spend her for some lucky person. Pop by and look, it's beautiful!
Moyra Blayney
Artwork all the way from the beautiful Emerald Isle. https://www.facebook.com/MoyraBlayneyArt/?pnref=story Aren't Moyra's paintings serene and restful?
Cafe Creme
The gorgeous little pearl of a cafe in Penistone Cafe Creme - http://www.thecafecreme.co.uk - are donating a breakfast for 2! (I'd park myself for an hour or two after eating and have a cake as well... all homemade...sigh!)
Denise's Boxes
Oh oh oh... I have one of these cuties up for grabs. Check out the page https://www.facebook.com/Denises-Boxes-Denise-McDowell-Art-285622514836058/?hc_location=ufi I love these and I want one and I want one now!
Flutterby Lashes
A lovely set of nail gel overlays for someone from Flutterby! Check them out on their Facebook page here... https://www.facebook.com/flutterby.lashes.9/?hc_location=ufi
Hair ShackThe Hair Shack is on Park Street in Wombwell and they've donated a cut and finish for some lucky person. My favourite thing is to get a hairdo... so hope whoever wins this... enjoys the pamper.Facebook link: https://www.facebook.com/HairShackWom...
Holiday Inn BarnsleyThe lovely people up at the old Brooklands have donated Sunday Lunch for 4 people for a good lunchtime scoff.
Hothouse
Victoria HowardMy lovely friend and fellow novelist, Victoria, is giving me something special. She writes 'romantic suspense' and is rather good at it :) Her website is here... http://www.victoriahoward.co.uk
Debbie JohnsonMy great and funny friend (no relation - and what a bummer that is) is donating a signed book. I guarantee you will be converted to her stuff if you read it... she is bloody brilliant and a perfect pick-me-up because she's a hoot! Read about her here
Thomas Masters
If you are moving house... you have to use this firm - http://www.thomasmasters.co.uk When I moved, I asked around and everyone gave me this firm's name so I went with them - and they were fabulous. Although I did give them all a migraine when they came to reassemble my four-poster (I forgot to give them the holding screws) Some of them are still in therapy today. They are the best and when I move to my mansion, they'll be the ones I ring. They'll be delighted by that but I expect they'll ask for a 'no-fixy-uppy-bed' clause.
These kind people have donated a £50 M & S voucher. Personally I would spend all that on their Sherry Trifle 'Baileys'. Oh my...
Novel Creations
Someone is going to win one of Novel Creations beautiful hand-crafted book bags in an online competition. These come from America so you won't be able to find them easily here. I have LOADS of them. They are gorgeous.
Magnificent Me!
From the magnificent Maggie (FB - https://www.facebook.com/magnificentmecoaching/ ) chocs and a £30 voucher! Maggie is a very experienced hypnotherapist and life coach who also helps victims of abuse. Full details of her work are here on her website
Mainstream Print
I have to have post-it notes - stationery is obligatory with every book launch so thanks to my friends at Mainstream who give me a great price and fab delivery on mine.
Munkibeads
My lovely clever friend at MUNKIBEADS https://www.facebook.com/Munkibeads/?hc_location=ufi
is giving me a prize too. Her work is so gorgeous !
Papercuts
The wonderful Donna, who is a very talented paper artist, is giving me one of her wares. They are amazing. https://www.facebook.com/search/top/?q=papercuts . She must have the patience of a saint.
Steel City
and my official pen makers... are Steel City in Sheffield. You can't have notepads without pens!! Never let me down (and I came to them after someone REALLY let me down at the last minute. In stepped SC so I stuck with them)
Here's the bookmarks, pen, postcards, post-itiRentthe wonderful Claire at iRent properties has donated the yummiest prize...Afternoon Tea for Two at the Spiced Pear in Hepworth. Oh my - it is gorgeous there (and they do a gentleman's tea for two as well... have one of each!)
Porky Penguin
They supply fabulous quirky jewellery, prints & pressies... I have a pair of owl earrings up for grabs from them!Power Plate at Sevenin Wilthorpe have donated 2 x personal training sessions... check them out on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/Power-Plate-at-Seven-1741843166042316/Win it and use it to begin the new you.
Sisters...the Ladies Fashion Chainstore Clothes stall in the upstairs market, unit 20, have donated.... get this... £50 to spend on their goods.It's a brill stall, loads of clothes you'd find in the high street shops but at very different prices. Check out their photos for new stock.Facebook address... https://www.facebook.com/groups/girls...
Steph Saward (facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/Stephs-Craft... always makes my themed jewellery for my launches - wildflowers this year, of course. She has also made me a beautiful white rose for Yorkshire Day and my sunflower jewellery for last year. There are quite a few wonderful owls and wildflowers up for grabs. Steph makes custom made jewellery (as I can testify!)
Margaret Smith Designshttps://www.facebook.com/margaret.smi...
Last year Margaret gave me bookart... this year it's one of these fairylight beauties. Aren't they gorgeous?
MORRISONS
...have given me one of the star prizes... a giant hamper. It was too big for the trolley so I hope whoever wins it has a car!!!
Stressfreeprint...are always brilliant, easy to deal with, make my job a lot easier and sorted me out with a load of promo postcards. Again, a printing firm that I really like dealing with especially when you can go to them with the world's crappiest drawings of what you want... and they give them to proper arty people and make what was in your head the whole time. Heartily recommended! And you can find them... here
Thirsk Falcony Centre
I couldn't have written my book without the people at this fabulous place. I've had some wonderful hours here (http://www.falconrycentre.co.uk) and I'll keep going back and having more.
This is 'Ursula' in my book... in real life he is Avalanche. And he's gorgeous. A day spent up there with the birds (and the lovely family whose centre it is) is a JOY. And I'm going back with 4 winners of a competition to be held. Don't enter it if you don't want to go because this is a lovely day out and we will make sure you have some fabulous photos to take home.My Trusty...make the loveliest products from sunflower oil. They're part of Salisbury NHS and all profit goes back into the health service. I discovered them last year when I was doing the sunflower book, though it might be a nice gimmick, starting using their stuff after they sent me a tester... and now I've got EVERYONE using it. It's beautiful. The oil is my particular favouriteAnd ...shhh... they've given me a special offer for my readers. If you take a look at their website and you like what you see... email them on sunflowercream@salisbury.nhs.uk, giving your telephone number, they'll take the order over the phone and give you 50% off! Everyone who comes to the launch will be able to try a sample of the cream.
Debbie ViggianoMy lovely friend Debbie has given me one of her lovely signed books - great fun to read. Love her books!
Technically Speaking...My friends at 'Technically Speaking' who mend my iMac and my PCs and my sons' PCs and all our friends PCs (and they found my first book deeeeeep inside my computer after my PC crashed and lost the lot!) have given me a SPY DRONE. It's worth a few bob and you can have great fun with it... or spy on the neighbours/kids/dog's antics.
And if you need Rob's services - and he is a wonder with computers, and very well priced too...Here's the link to reach him
The Knitting Giraffe https://www.facebook.com/knittinggira... made this wonderful, gorgeous giraffe. It's so pretty. And she can make you a giraffe too... check out her lovely Facebook page!
Vets for PetsOur wonderful - and I mean wonderful... I'll tell you about it someday... local pets have given me a voucher for a vaccine for life for a dog, cat or rabbit in the family. This prize is worth a hefty amount (come on, vet's bills... need I say more). I can't recommend them enough. All my animals are with them and I couldn't wish for a better service for them.
Walkers Shortbread.Have been with me from the beginning and are my good luck charm. No launch would be complete without their contribution!
Wax Lyrical
I buy a lot of Wax Lyrical stuff... it smells exactly as it is supposed to and their Bluebell oil inspired me to make my heroine a 'nose' (you'll see what I mean if you read the book). I was so scared they'd run out of it, I bought a whole box full and have one on my desk when I'm working at all times. They make the most beautiful things. Totally worth paying an extra pound or two for because they last. They've given me a box of reed diffusers (I want the Summer Evening one SOOOO much) and candles... for 4 lucky winners!
Yorkshire Blankets& Pauline Ogden
Pauline has made a beautiful heart shaped wreath out of Yorkshire Blankets and I have also 2 beautiful Yorkshire Blankets for the raffle.
(on facebook here... https://www.facebook.com/yorkshirebla... )
And if you want to see the blankets in the flesh... go along to Cawthorne Antiques centre as there's a unit of them in there - they are beautiful, hard-wearing (obviously - they're YORKSHIRE BLANKETS) and made of PROPER WOOL.
good old YORKSHIRE TEA
Everyone who comes to my launch will be able to have a good old brew thanks to YT.
Zena Claire
...taking the alphabetical last slot is the Colour Specialists Hairdressers on Summer Lane giving a cut and finish in their well established salon.
Their Facebook page is here!
( https://www.facebook.com/search/35292... )
May 28, 2016
Girl on My Brain!!
If you haven't heard of 'The Girl on the Train' you must have been in outer space with no internet or in a coma for the past year. I have been neither and I am being haunted by it.
The cover...
is seared onto my retinas. When I close my eyes at night to sleep, any image I conjure up to help me drift off has those speed blurs fading off to the right.
The book is everywhere. When I go ANYWHERE, posters bark at me from the walls. When I go to the supermarket to buy my bottle of Hardys, the book is there at every turn. Advertisements in magazines, Facebook/Twitter... and even our trade magazine, The Bookseller has become 'The Paula Hawkins Fan Mag'. Every page gloats... look ' The Girl on the Train has knocked unknockable David Walliams into second place. It's even trounced all over JK Rowling. Which human being does that, FFS? None, because it is INhuman. Especially for a debut crime writer. Did I say FFS? I'll say it again then. I see spin-offs... GOTT the musical in the West End, GOTT wine bottles served on British Rail. If any country hasn't bought it to translate, it soon will. I hear publishers on Pluto are in a bidding war with those on Mercury for it.
What is more Paula Hawkins has the same agent as me. If Lizzy Kremer had not been such a great 'mother', I might have felt like the older sister who was more gauche, stupid, ugly, unsuccessful than my younger sibling who grabbed all the trophies for best arabesque in ballet classes, Head Girl award, Girl most likely to become God trophy... I have told 'my mother' that when my book comes out in 3 weeks time, I'd like her to kindly remove my younger sister's name from the top of the Sunday Times bestseller charts and give me a fighting chance. No wonder LK has just been voted Agent of the Year... she is up there on the top table of the success story of the year/decade/epoque.
The Train Girl is not Paula's first book. She was a jobbing romcom writer of 4 books then changed genre to crime at a time when the world seems extra thirsty for it. She produced one of those rare books that gives readers something they haven't had before... an extra-flawed heroine who self-medicates booze to help her get over the fact that her ex has moved onwards and upwards. She lies, she blacks out, she does everything she has promised herself she won't. A heroine who is almost an anti-heroine? Is that allowed? Is it now.
Just when you think you have seen everything... some clever sod produces something new. And I love it. Where would any budding entrepreneur be without that chance to grab the world by the throat? The Holy Grail has been replicated and there are loads of them out there waiting to be found! Never let anyone tell you that the impossible is not possible.
You can tell how successful a book is by how many Amazon reviews there are. (I don't mention Goodreads. It's a horrible bitch-fest of a site... most of those reviews are written by people they breed on special farms). GOTT has about 12 million (slight exaggeration) comments. Not all of them good because success attracts green-eyed vitriol. One famous writer told me that if ever I get depressed about a crap review I've had, pick a book I love - a masterpiece - and see what reviews it has been given. How can anyone not say that Jane Eyre should be on a pedestal? Well... there's always an undiscovered genius pointing out 'unbelievable coincidences' (it is fiction, mate) and how lacking it is compared to Wuthering Heights. Then again, check out the slagging off of Thomas Hardy, Emily Bronte, Jane Austen... Dan Brown comes in for a fair amount of stick about how 'rubbish' his writing is (a book I devoured like a giant 12 foot eclair) and EL James and JK Rowling have their knockers too. I'm sure when they're working out how much monetary interest their book sales have earned them that day and how many 'ker-ching' sounds they've heard in the past half an hour, they spare a few moments to be totally gutted.
Paula's debut crime novel has been made into a film, it's a best seller in hardback, paperback, ebook, audio, braille, semaphore, Morse code... and the world is waiting for her next book which will no doubt be ripped from the shelves as soon as it is out. I have no idea how Paula sleeps knowing that Mr X of Tunbridge Wells guessed how the entire plot was going to play out after reading 2 pages and has therefore awarded her novel one star.
Don't get me wrong - I'm doing okay. I'm selling books, making a living... but the GOTT story is the stuff of dreams and all of us authors want it. With those sales, I could buy a mansion, not moan at the kids when they go over their phone allowance, have my eyebrows microbladed every 6 weeks, buy that Lulu Guinness handbag without having to wait for the 20% off sale. And - oh - to sit in a cinema with all my pals watching MY story on a massive screen (sitting next to Hugh Jackman, who was the love interest obviously) and having first pick of the Cornetto flavours when the ice-cream lady comes around in the half-time 'comfort break' well... it's something to aim for. And it could be mine... there is no reason to give up hope because it hasn't happened so far. I just need the zeitgeist to pick me up in its teeth and lift me on its thermal. A zeitgeist that recognises Yorkshire romcoms are the new black.
Flippancy apart, the real message of this post is that the fairytale does sometimes still occur. And though fledgling writers should remember that though this is the exception rather than the rule... it CAN happen to any scribe. No doubt Paula was disillusioned when she was writing her romcoms and ready for giving up because she wrote GOTT when she was skint. I bet she wouldn't have realised the monster (though nice friendly author-loving monster) she released when she sent off her book to MOTHER and said 'Okay then, what about this one instead? Is it a goer?'
Fellow authors might wish PH's story was theirs, but as well as, not instead of her success (there is a difference) because we're a sisterhood, a band of writers who protect other writers because they're OURS and represent books and enjoyment of stories and keeping the industry alive and everything we stand for. Writers are a good bunch, rivals and yet we manage to remain bezzies as well. We've seen another of us projected into the stratosphere with Jojo Moyes and her 'Me before You' which has just been made into a Hollywood film. Shit happens - but so does Sparkle/Glitter... or whatever the flip side to crap is. There are latent Cinderellas in our midst and we will rejoice with them, when the fairy godmother shakes that wand and the pumpkins start twitching. It shows us all that there is still a massive passion for stories in the world. That sort of news is very, very welcome to authors. A mild shade of green on the cheeks is permitted though, we are only flesh and blood.
Meanwhile, I'm just started my new novel... 'the Woman on the Plane'. Mr Spielberg, PM me if you think we should talk...
Milly Johnson was not paid for this article. No shit Sherlock.
The cover...
is seared onto my retinas. When I close my eyes at night to sleep, any image I conjure up to help me drift off has those speed blurs fading off to the right. The book is everywhere. When I go ANYWHERE, posters bark at me from the walls. When I go to the supermarket to buy my bottle of Hardys, the book is there at every turn. Advertisements in magazines, Facebook/Twitter... and even our trade magazine, The Bookseller has become 'The Paula Hawkins Fan Mag'. Every page gloats... look ' The Girl on the Train has knocked unknockable David Walliams into second place. It's even trounced all over JK Rowling. Which human being does that, FFS? None, because it is INhuman. Especially for a debut crime writer. Did I say FFS? I'll say it again then. I see spin-offs... GOTT the musical in the West End, GOTT wine bottles served on British Rail. If any country hasn't bought it to translate, it soon will. I hear publishers on Pluto are in a bidding war with those on Mercury for it.
What is more Paula Hawkins has the same agent as me. If Lizzy Kremer had not been such a great 'mother', I might have felt like the older sister who was more gauche, stupid, ugly, unsuccessful than my younger sibling who grabbed all the trophies for best arabesque in ballet classes, Head Girl award, Girl most likely to become God trophy... I have told 'my mother' that when my book comes out in 3 weeks time, I'd like her to kindly remove my younger sister's name from the top of the Sunday Times bestseller charts and give me a fighting chance. No wonder LK has just been voted Agent of the Year... she is up there on the top table of the success story of the year/decade/epoque.
The Train Girl is not Paula's first book. She was a jobbing romcom writer of 4 books then changed genre to crime at a time when the world seems extra thirsty for it. She produced one of those rare books that gives readers something they haven't had before... an extra-flawed heroine who self-medicates booze to help her get over the fact that her ex has moved onwards and upwards. She lies, she blacks out, she does everything she has promised herself she won't. A heroine who is almost an anti-heroine? Is that allowed? Is it now.
Just when you think you have seen everything... some clever sod produces something new. And I love it. Where would any budding entrepreneur be without that chance to grab the world by the throat? The Holy Grail has been replicated and there are loads of them out there waiting to be found! Never let anyone tell you that the impossible is not possible.
You can tell how successful a book is by how many Amazon reviews there are. (I don't mention Goodreads. It's a horrible bitch-fest of a site... most of those reviews are written by people they breed on special farms). GOTT has about 12 million (slight exaggeration) comments. Not all of them good because success attracts green-eyed vitriol. One famous writer told me that if ever I get depressed about a crap review I've had, pick a book I love - a masterpiece - and see what reviews it has been given. How can anyone not say that Jane Eyre should be on a pedestal? Well... there's always an undiscovered genius pointing out 'unbelievable coincidences' (it is fiction, mate) and how lacking it is compared to Wuthering Heights. Then again, check out the slagging off of Thomas Hardy, Emily Bronte, Jane Austen... Dan Brown comes in for a fair amount of stick about how 'rubbish' his writing is (a book I devoured like a giant 12 foot eclair) and EL James and JK Rowling have their knockers too. I'm sure when they're working out how much monetary interest their book sales have earned them that day and how many 'ker-ching' sounds they've heard in the past half an hour, they spare a few moments to be totally gutted.
Paula's debut crime novel has been made into a film, it's a best seller in hardback, paperback, ebook, audio, braille, semaphore, Morse code... and the world is waiting for her next book which will no doubt be ripped from the shelves as soon as it is out. I have no idea how Paula sleeps knowing that Mr X of Tunbridge Wells guessed how the entire plot was going to play out after reading 2 pages and has therefore awarded her novel one star.
Don't get me wrong - I'm doing okay. I'm selling books, making a living... but the GOTT story is the stuff of dreams and all of us authors want it. With those sales, I could buy a mansion, not moan at the kids when they go over their phone allowance, have my eyebrows microbladed every 6 weeks, buy that Lulu Guinness handbag without having to wait for the 20% off sale. And - oh - to sit in a cinema with all my pals watching MY story on a massive screen (sitting next to Hugh Jackman, who was the love interest obviously) and having first pick of the Cornetto flavours when the ice-cream lady comes around in the half-time 'comfort break' well... it's something to aim for. And it could be mine... there is no reason to give up hope because it hasn't happened so far. I just need the zeitgeist to pick me up in its teeth and lift me on its thermal. A zeitgeist that recognises Yorkshire romcoms are the new black.
Flippancy apart, the real message of this post is that the fairytale does sometimes still occur. And though fledgling writers should remember that though this is the exception rather than the rule... it CAN happen to any scribe. No doubt Paula was disillusioned when she was writing her romcoms and ready for giving up because she wrote GOTT when she was skint. I bet she wouldn't have realised the monster (though nice friendly author-loving monster) she released when she sent off her book to MOTHER and said 'Okay then, what about this one instead? Is it a goer?'
Fellow authors might wish PH's story was theirs, but as well as, not instead of her success (there is a difference) because we're a sisterhood, a band of writers who protect other writers because they're OURS and represent books and enjoyment of stories and keeping the industry alive and everything we stand for. Writers are a good bunch, rivals and yet we manage to remain bezzies as well. We've seen another of us projected into the stratosphere with Jojo Moyes and her 'Me before You' which has just been made into a Hollywood film. Shit happens - but so does Sparkle/Glitter... or whatever the flip side to crap is. There are latent Cinderellas in our midst and we will rejoice with them, when the fairy godmother shakes that wand and the pumpkins start twitching. It shows us all that there is still a massive passion for stories in the world. That sort of news is very, very welcome to authors. A mild shade of green on the cheeks is permitted though, we are only flesh and blood.
Meanwhile, I'm just started my new novel... 'the Woman on the Plane'. Mr Spielberg, PM me if you think we should talk...
Milly Johnson was not paid for this article. No shit Sherlock.
