Monday 28 April 2014

Farewell Trip - your next Book Club choice!

I (Gary) used to be in a book club. Usually four, sometimes five, occasionally six, ex Lampeterians met up each month in a different London boozer and threw our thoughts about a book into the mix of beer, sarcasm, football and scoff. We chose some good novels along the way, and some shockers. Usually the book didn't delay us much, assuming we'd even read it, but sometimes we got our teeth into one. As I remember it the best conversations we had were on Julian Barnes's England England and John Lanchester's Mr Phillips, though I'm undoubtedly being biased as I picked both.

Now news reaches me that two separate (female) book clubs are doing Farewell Trip as their latest choice. In both cases the book has been inflicted upon the group by an ex Lampeterian, which strikes me as very pleasing indeed.

And I couldn't help thinking of things people might want to chat about over the white wine and cake when talking about Farewell Trip. How about these?



Did you treat Ruth and Trip equally or did you find yourself taking sides?

Do you think Ruth ever reads Trip's last letter?

What happens to Ruth afterwards? Is her restaurant a success? Does she speak to Laura again? Does she settle down with someone else relatively quickly?

Trip says several times he was born aged 35. Are we all born a certain age?

Who should play Ruth and Trip in either the BBC series or the Hollywood blockbuster?

Why do so few people collaborate on writing novels?


If anyone is thinking of picking our book we'd love to know how it went and what you thought. And if anyone out there wants any particular question answered before, or as a result of, their book club just message either of us. We'd be honoured to help.












Tuesday 4 March 2014

How Farewell Trip got its title...

It's the 20th anniversary of the release of Four Weddings and a Funeral, apparently. Pause whilst you wonder where your life went. Stop weeping at the back. And I was reading that it very nearly wasn't called that at all. Allegedly, it was going to be called Toffs on Heat. Or Charles and Chums. Hard to imagine it being a success with either of those titles!


I was thinking of this because of a very nice review of our book by Becca's Books in which she writes “Firstly the title. Ambiguous and I LOVE it”. I was overjoyed to read that to be honest.


The title seems so right now, but it was one of the last things we wrote. The original title of the book was Wish You Were.  Not 'Wish You Were Here', though of course we expected people to add a silent “Here” at the end. Which we then mirrored with the last line of the book – PS, so that the last thing people read was supposed to be a silent, unwritten “I Love You”. (Of course, in reality, we not only changed the title, but the proof-readers missed out the PS at the end of the novel).


So the title was Wish You Were for 95% of the time we were writing the book. My guess is most people reading the book will imagine that the title came first, and that explains why Trip has such a silly nickname. But in reality we came up with the nickname first, at least a year earlier. It was only when we were improvising a dialogue scene on Facebook chat that I used the phrase “a farewell trip” and suddenly realised that was an obvious title.

It still took a time to take hold. I was worried about using such a corny pun. Karin had become attached to the original title. I liked the original. Wish You Were what? My wife had stated constantly that she hated the name Trip. A best friend likewise. Even Karin wasn't keen.

Now, to me anyway, just as with Four Weddings and a Funeral, it feels like the book has always been Farewell Trip, was always meant to be, and could never have been anything else. And Becca's review sits nicely with that.



Thursday 6 February 2014

Names. Don't change them, it upsets me


Gary has just put on his blog a post about names and how they place us in society. http://www.garytwynam.com/writing.html. Such synchronicity! For I have been musing upon names over the past couple of months. How do we do this when living several counties away and communicating almost entirely by Facebook message? And even then all we talk about what Amazon ranking the book has achieved (5300ish at the moment, since you ask). It is weird and quite satisfying at the same time.

Anyway, the reason names have been much in my thoughts over the past couple of months is because my son went off to university in October announcing that he was going to abandon the (oh so carefully chosen) name we gave him at birth. It was too different, he said. People always commented on it, said it wrong, wondered where it came from. He was fed up with all that so he was changing it.

I jumped in, metaphorical fists flying (always the action before the thought, me) and told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to change the name I call him, whatever other people did. He was very reasonable and just shrugged, 'I didn't think you would' was his simple reply.

Part of my dislike of his changing his name is that he said it was different. Damnit! Well, that's part of the bloody reason we chose it in the first place. My own name is different, and I positively like that. When I was at secondary school there were 5 Karens in my class alone and then there was me. Thank god I'm not a Karen, I used to think smugly to myself, I'm different. Even if practically everyone I meet cannot say my name correctly. "Kar-in" I say, "hello, Karen" they reply to my face.

What has made it more difficult for me is that Malin chose Christian, one of his middle names, and is now Chris. Whenever he pops on Facebook or twitter it gives my heart a jump - my brother who died several years ago was called Chris and they now have the same name.

Upon further thought, I realised that name-changing is common in my birth family. At 11, my dad announced he was no longer to be known as Pants (a diminutive of Anthony - his real name, which nobody had ever called him) and was thenceforth to be known as John. Pretty understandable really, who wants to go to big boy school with a name like Pants? My grandparents, in a much more understanding way than me, obliged with his request and he has been John ever since.

When I think of my own reaction to Malin's choice, I'm slightly ashamed. He's his own person, why shouldn't he choose his own name? My whining answer every time I talk about it is 'but it's such a nice name and it suits him and it took us so long to find a name that fitted.'

These aren't the only instances of name-changing in my family. My mum changed her name to Grace when she was in her sixties (I think) because she felt she was a different person to the one who had been called Jacqueline, and now introduces herself as Gracie. This is okay for me, of course, because I can still call her Mum.

I've also had a couple of comments about the name Ruth, 'my' character in Farewell Trip. Apparently, there are people out there who don't like it and don't mind telling me so. Well, I have to say that when they do I feel like I would if someone had said, upon hearing my new baby's name, 'oh, I don't like that very much.'

Well, bog right off right now, if you please, and don't return until you have developed some politeness. My character, my name choice and it has nothing whatsoever to do with you!

It seems likely that people will feel the same about the names in our new venture. I was going to keep them under wraps, but maybe telling you them will allow you all to become accustomed to their difference...

Eddie Brean AKA Alex Little and Eileen Marshall.

Don't tell me you don't like them. Particularly when you haven't met them yet.

Monday 27 January 2014

A Writer's Best Friend is a 5 Star Amazon Review

When our book was published we were told by our publishers that Amazon reviews were our top, top, marketing priority. We already had a lot of interest from friends – especially Karin who has a vast army of supporters. Mine were more "Meh, yeah but Louis Saurez – he really looks like Bernie Winters doesn't he?" This could be because most of Karin's friends are women and mine are men, or maybe because Karin gets a cancer vote, or more likely because my friends are jerks.

Anyhow, we begged them all for reviews , and 30 blessed angels responded accordingly. Indeed I happen to know that several of them loved the book, had read it even. We thank you by name nightly.

However, because we're grown-ups, grizzled old cowboys who've seen it all before, we knew that the book would not be to the taste of all our friends. So we made a big point of saying to everyone not to worry if they couldn't be bothered to buy the book, or if they bought it but didn't get on with it, or if they bought it and liked it but couldn't bear to give us 5 stars, or couldn't get round to writing a review. We would totally understand. No worries.


Well, it turns out we lied. I spent an hour this morning writing out a list of people yet to review or to falsely gush or to even make a fucking comment and it came to 19. I didn't even know I had that many friends. I facebooked Karin for a moan. Her illness has given her a gimlet-eyed clarity of judgement. Bastards she said.   


Monday 6 January 2014

A hard look in the mirror

In an attempt to be topical rather than sadly repeating the 5 star reviews for Farewell Trip, I nearly tweeted a link from the BBC news website reporting that Tornado fighter jets have been flying with replacement parts manufactured by 3d printers. I have absolutely no idea how this could possibly be possible, nor what said parts are made of (paper? Surely not?) but it's an incredible (literally) thing to me.

In a leap of intelligence that surprised even me, I also thought if these parts are so much cheaper and easier to make than traditionally manufactured replacement parts then maybe less money could be spent on defence - aka destroying - and more money on making jobs for young people - aka creating.

Ooh hoo! There's my tweet right there!

Several minutes of careful crafting later, a tweet was ready to go. Just before pressing the send button, I noticed on the website article the sentence '73 comments' and scrolled down to read what other people who were as amazed and baffled as me had said.

Most of them weren't at all baffled. Most of them knew exactly what 3d printing is all about and they all had very strong opinions about its use for making replacement parts for fighter jets. And they weren't afraid to come right out and make their points. These were in the general vein of:

'Excellent! More money to spend on other defence projects.'
'Increase the defence budget immediately - we're about to be overrun by people with 3d printed guns.'
'3d printing is actually the devil in technological form. We're doomed. We're doomed.'
'This use of new technology methods spells the end of all traditional manufacturing in the UK.'
'Oh man! This is amazing! You can print fighter jets?! Where do I sign up?'

I would have copied some of them verbatim, but when I went back to the page they were all gone. But they had already had a signal effect on me - reading them made me rethink the wisdom of my quick tweet. These people all knew the height of their soapbox and how far it was to the ground if they were knocked off. And, quite frankly, some of them had been knocked onto their arses by better thought out arguments and better written comments.

Was I prepared to take the flak? (Sorry, just couldn't resist.) Did I have my arguments marshalled? Or was I just trying to make a point which, hopefully, would make me look dead intelligent and up-to-the-minute and political and all that? But might, if it all went pear-shaped, end with me looking and feeling like a dunce.

No contest. And no tweet.

It did, though, make me realise how concerned I am with creating a persona for my online presence - clever but not so clever that I piss people off; witty but not so witty that I get caught up in a witfest there's no way I can win; naughty enough to make people smile but not enough to offend them.

Bugger. Can I start again please?


Monday 30 December 2013

A few thoughts - a fortnight after publication...

I've seen a lot of people over the Xmas period and obviously our book has come up in discussions – by which I mean I haven't stopped talking about it. As Lily Allen once tweeted: People say I'm self-obsessed. But enough about them. Anyway, having listened to our customer base, it's clear there are a few misunderstandings I'd like to attempt to address.



Firstly though, a huge thanks to those who have bought the book and reviewed it so nicely – you have no idea how much it means to us. And as for the people we neither of us know who have raved about it on Amazon, well that really is why we bothered to tell a story. To those of you who have bought the book and not yet read it, or have no intention of getting round to it, we thank you for our ten pence. We promise not to spend it wisely. For those of you with no interest I apologise once again for stinking up your internet without mentioning cats or food. Anne will rectify shortly.


Now for some thoughts:

1.  It is not romantic fiction. No bodices are ripped. There is no dark and handsome man with deep character faults some sadly deluded heroine/author thinks she can cure. It does not end happily. And it is not written for people with the reading age of 10. (Unless any of that is what attracted you to the book, in which case please ignore all I've just said and tuck in.) True, it is an unabashed love story, but a grown-up one for grown-ups. Ok, so it isn't One Day but that was roughly where we were aiming.


2.  It is not self-published. Yes, I realise it's not in Waterstone's, but we're at the cutting edge of future publishing, where books are digitally launched cheaply into the world to see if they will fly. The book does come with the seal of approval of one of the world's largest publishers, I promise you. We're not trying to force on you a piece of toot no-one deemed to have any merit. Not yet anyway. My Shropshire book will be self-published shortly...



3.  A 5 star review does not mean a 5 star review. I totally understand anyone who has problems with this. In a normal world even I wouldn't give Farewell Trip 5 stars. I reviewed films for fifteen years and only gave twelve films 5 stars. I've read thousands of novels and would rate fewer than ten that highly. But this is 2013. It's about PR, marketing and lies. Grade inflation is all. A four star review on Amazon doesn't mean it's a great read, one of the best books I've read for ages. It means “meh”. A three star review doesn't mean “read this book, I really liked it.” It means “what a bore”. The best way to think of a 5 star review is as the equivalent to a C Grade A-Level in 1983. And we really do need 5 star reviews if we're to get any traction. So can I ask those of you struggling with that conundrum to put 'helping friends' first and 'critical honesty' second. If it does reach an audience, and we need your help with that, don't worry there will be plenty of people out there ready to redress any grade imbalance.


4.  Yes, of course I wrote all the dirty bits.


Thanks.

Thursday 26 December 2013

The ninja of patience strikes back

I was moaning to The Patient One (aka Mr W) yesterday about blogging and how flippin hard it is.

"I really want to write posts," I alas and alacked to him "but I just don't have any original thoughts or ideas. Moan, moan, blah, blah..."

"Well, I think you probably do have ideas, but you don't recognise them as such." Explained The Patient One, patiently.

"Gary's really good at it and it's not fair and it's too hard." I self-pitied. "Moan, moan, blah, blah."

"Moan, moan and blah, blah to you too. Halt the pathetitude right now. It doesn't suit you."

I stuck my tongue out. The Patient One refused to succumb and rolled his eyes instead.

"Anyway, writing blogs aren't real writing. It's such a waste of time when I could be getting Eileen into a spot of bother with two gun-toting baddies." I gave it some welly with the pathetic face. To no avail. The Patient One has deep reserves and only gently advised me.

"Why don't you do what you do when you're doing real writing then?  Give yourself a time limit and just do it?"

God, don't you hate sensible advice? Especially when delivered by a ninja of patience. I responded with the usually infallible Eeyore face. That magnificence of a sad, misunderstood, world's against me and I can't do anything about it face.

"But Gary's so good and I'm so rubbish..."

"Oh for gods sake, stop bloody moaning and get on with it. You've written five novels, you can't tell me a simple blog post is beyond you."

Final score - Eeyore face 1 : The Patient One 0