Jenny Kane & Jennifer Ash

Jenny Kane: Coffee, cupcakes, chocolate and contemporary fiction / Jennifer Ash: Medieval crime with hints of Ellis Peters and Robin Hood

Tag: history Page 5 of 6

Interview with Mark Colenutt (a.k.a M.J.Colewood)

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On November 10, 2017

In Blog, Books For Children, Fiction, Historical fiction, Interview, Jenny Kane, YA

Today I’m delighted to welcome Mark Colenutt  co-author of The Last Treasure of Ancient England. You may be surprised to learn that M.J. Colewood is not one, but two authors: Mark Colenutt and Jacqueline Wood who joined forces to write this wonderful book. Today I am joined by Mark.

Why not make a cuppa and join us for a quick chat?

What inspired you to write your book?

At the age of eleven I went to a remote Devon boarding school which was steeped in history and legend so that got the imagination flowing. Over the years it grew into the story that you can read in the novel.

Do you model any of your characters after people you know? If so, do these people see themselves in your characters?

There is only one character that was a real person at the school. Sadly, he has since passed on but his nephew has read the book and said that I did his uncle justice by depicting him in the humane way that we all admired about him.

What type of research did you have to do for your book?

I had to swot up on my medieval history and iron out finer points over the Battle of Hastings and the Norman invasion to ensure it was accurate according to the historic record. It was also fortunate to benefit from the very latest discovery of the site of the Anglo-Saxons’ last stand following Hastings in north Devon.

Do you prefer to plot your story or just go with the flow?

It is imperative to plot the story before sitting down to write in the case of this novel as it is a treasure hunt and mystery, several mysteries in fact, all wrapped up into one. It is therefore essential to pace the revealing of the mysteries and discovery of the various clues. If not, the storyline cannot function and the reader would not only get lost but not be given a fair chance of working out the solutions and guessing the mysteries. That said, once the writing commences the story comes to life and unexpected twists and turns present themselves, which are enthusiastically embraced and pressed into service for the greater good of the plot and characters.

What is your writing regime?

As I hold down a full-time teaching job and an even fuller-time job looking after and a three-and-a-half-year old, basically my writing regime is whenever I can but predominantly in the early hours while all are asleep. So, I tend to rise around five or five thirty and get an hour and a half’s writing done and at the weekend that extends to a couple of hours on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s not ideal but it’s that or nothing and I don’t want the writing to inhibit family life during the waking hours.

What excites you the most about your book?

The fact that it is a real treasure hunt filled with clues, riddles, symbols and adventure that really does end in a revelation worth discovering. Few treasure hunts bring that to life and so that was the missive with this novel. If you have read a book or watched a film about a treasure hunt and were disappointed that the hunt was lackluster and the treasure not worth waiting for, then that is not the case in the Last Treasure of Ancient England. It is not only what excites me the most but also the novel’s greatest achievement.

If you were stranded on a desert island with three other people, fictional or real, who would they be and why?

For debate Christopher Hitchens, for companionship my daughter and for survival Bear Grylls. In the case of my last choice, there’s no point Einstein or Billy Connolly coming along to keep me company if I can’t even make a fire or shelter.

Anything else you’d like to share with us?

The novel does in fact transcend generations. The older reader will be returned to their youth and enjoy not only the quick-paced storyline but also writing that immerses them in the past, in several pasts, teaching them what they were never told at school about the Norman invasion of England. For the younger reader it will capture their imagination as they are thrown onto the front lines at the Battle of Hastings and then later find themselves in the wilds of Devon hunting down the last treasure of ancient England, shadowed by dark forces. One reader has called it ‘the Da Vinci code in Devon’ and I can settle for that briefest of epithets, although the writing is of a higher standard, believe me.

Links

Read more at www.chesterbentleymysteries.com

Twitter @MJColewood

Facebook @chesterbentleymysteries

Bio

Born in Plymouth, Devon, I was educated at Blundell’s School and then at St. Mary’s College, Strawberry Hill, London. Upon completing my degree, I took off to Malaysia and New Zealand before returning one last time to the UK capital before I boarded the plane that would eventually carry me to my adopted homeland of Spain.

After a year and a half in the Spanish capital, I decided it was time to leave and seek colour and adventure in the Andalusian south. I settled in Seville, which had been a place that had fascinated me from a very young age and I was not disappointed. Eleven years later and it was time to move on again, this time the north of Spain.

By this time, I had completed two books and was engaged in a third, imagining a fourth and wishfully thinking of a fifth.

At present I live and work in Girona, a pleasant, laidback green part of the country which is ideally sandwiched between the Pyrenees, France, Barcelona and the Mediterranean.

Not surprisingly, I have produced a collection of books on Spain over the years in ‘The Hispanophile Series’, from literary criticism in the form of my Handbook to the ‘Legacy & Odyssey of Don Quixote’, to a city guide in Old Seville and even a book of photography and the first in the novel form of a paperback, hence the format: ‘photoback’, and entitled ‘A Vision of Seville’.

I have also written two history titles about the British Raj.

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Many thanks Mark, great interview.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

End of the month with Nell Peters: There goes October!

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On October 31, 2017

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction, Jenny Kane, News

Somehow we’re here again. The end of the month- and that only means one thing…

Over to you Nell…

Hi, y’all – and happy Halloween, All Hallows Eve, or Samhain if you prefer. Like the proverbial bad penny, I’m back again – well, at least I hope I am. Let me explain:

I’m writing this blog even more in advance than usual because we are away from 22nd October to 30th – flying back then from a late break in the sun (hopefully!) That’s assuming the OH is still in one piece after his flight to Monaco on Friday 13th (cue spooky music!) – he’s due back practically minutes before we set off. Could be worse; I’ve had to meet him at the airport before now. With all the shenanigans going on with air travel recently – so glad we are booked on BA and not Monarch or Ryanair – I have fingers and toes crossed that our flight isn’t delayed until the 31st, because historically that has been a very bad day for plane crashes.

Exactly a hundred years ago during WWI, a Fokker (careful how you say that) piloted by a Lt. Pastor suffered structural failure and crashed – it was the second such accident in three days, and needless to say, all those aircraft had to be grounded until the design fault could be identified and rectified. Pastor was under the command of infamous fighter ace Manfred von Richthofen, aka as the Red Baron, because he held the hereditary title of Freiherr (free lord) and painted his plane red – all the unit’s planes were brightly coloured, hence their epithet, The Flying Circus.

I’ve mentioned before that my grandfather was a youthful pilot with the Royal Flying Corps – a sepia photograph of him sitting in his flimsy plane hangs on one of our landings. As I drift past and glance his way, it never ceases to amaze me how incredibly brave those young airmen (of whatever nationality) were, when their life expectancy was a mere seventeen flying hours – they were indeed ‘Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines’. Unlike my grandfather, the Red Baron didn’t survive to see peace declared despite his eighty air combat victories; his luck ran out in April 1918. Drat – I have that song rattling around my head now … they go up tiddly up up, they go down tiddly down down.

 

Coincidentally, The Battle of Britain ended on this day in 1940 – since 10th July, nearly three thousand RAF pilots, including many from what was then the British Empire plus refugees from Nazi-occupied countries in Europe, had been defending British air space over southern England against the Luftwaffe’s relentless attempt to wipe out airborne defences. Flushed with his successful infiltration of much of Europe, this was the prelude to Hitler’s ultimate plan to invade and conquer this ‘Sceptred Isle’. The pilots of Fighter Command, dubbed ‘The Few’ by Churchill, had an average age of just twenty and were paid £264 pa (a little over £30,000 in today’s money). Sadly, during ‘Our Finest Hour’ (Churchill again) five hundred and forty-four fliers were killed and over a thousand aircraft lost – but (fortunately for us) they were victorious and Adolf backed off to lick his wounds.

In 1949 a pilot conducting secret tests of a prototype aircraft died when he crashed into houses in Yeovil, also killing two victims on the ground – and the following year a British European Airways (now part of BA) Viking failed to make it off the runway at Heathrow (then London Airport) in foggy conditions. Of the thirty people on board, only a stewardess and one passenger lived to tell the tale. Fast forward to 1964, when NASA astronaut Theodore Freeman perished after a goose smashed through the cockpit canopy of his Northrop Talon jet trainer in Texas, causing shards of Plexiglas to enter the engine, which caught fire. Although Freeman ejected, he was too close to the ground for his parachute to open properly. He was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart.

More Halloween air disasters in 1979, 1994, 1996 and 1999, and in 2000 there were two – in total, hundreds of passengers and crew lost their lives. Most recently, in 2015, on the day that New Zealand beat Australia 34-17 during the Rugby World Cup final at Twickenham, a Russian airliner came to grief in Egypt and two hundred and twenty four people died. So you see my point? Maybe not a good day to fly, if you have a choice. There have been some good aeronautically-associated events on 31st October, however – like Rear Admiral George J Dufek becoming the first American to land an airplane at the South Pole in 1956, and BA taking on its first female pilots in 1987. Shall we move along, feet firmly planted on terra firma?

George Dufek

No more cheerfully, Indira Gandhi was assassinated on this day in 1984 (very George Orwell) by two of her security guards – you can’t trust anyone, can you? Both men were in turn shot by other guards, and although one survived, he was executed when found guilty of murder. In a speech given on the day before her death, Mrs G declared prophetically, ‘I am alive today, I may not be there tomorrow…I shall continue to serve until my last breath and when I die, I can say that every drop of my blood will invigorate India and strengthen it. Even if I died in the service of the nation, I would be proud of it. Every drop of my blood will contribute to the growth of this nation and make it strong and dynamic.’

Indira Gandhi

Indira (no relation to Mahatma) was India’s first and so far only woman PM. Politics were obviously in the genes, because her dad was India’s first PM, Jawaharal Nehru. She had two sons – Sanjay, the younger, had been her chosen successor politically, but died in a flying accident in 1980, leaving Rajiv (a pilot) to take up the reins following her death. He was himself assassinated in 1991.

Dangerous stuff, politics, as Italian fascist PM Benito Mussolini may have noticed in 1926, when an assassination attempt was made on his life – not a brilliant way for him to celebrate his fourth anniversary of taking office. Fifteen year-old schoolboy, Anteo Zamboni tried to shoot the leader in Bologna during a parade, but the unfortunate youth missed and was immediately set upon by squadistri (fascist squads) who didn’t ask any questions and lynched him.

This was the second unsuccessful attempt on Il Duce’s life that year – in April, middle-aged Irish woman, The Honourable (but not very) Violet Gibson, daughter of Lord Ashbourne, shot him as he walked among the crowds in Rome after delivering a speech. Armed with a revolver disguised by her shawl, she fired once, but Mussolini moved his head at that moment and she hit his nose (no ‘on the nose’ jokes, please); when she tried again, the gun misfired. Poor old Vi was almost lynched (what is it with Italians and lynching?) by an angry mob, but police intervened and escorted her away for questioning. Mussolini’s wound was slight, and after being patched up, he and his bandaged nose continued walkabout. Violet was deported to Britain and spent the rest of her life in a mental asylum.

This was the day in 1959 when ex-marine and accomplished marksman Lee Harvey Oswald decided to visit the US Embassy in Moscow and declare he wanted to renounce his American citizenship. It was a Saturday, so perhaps he was at a loose end. Officer Richard Snyder accepted Oswald’s passport and a written note, but told him that further paperwork would need to be completed. Oswald didn’t follow through with the process and when he became disaffected with life in Russia (not too many burger joints there at that time, I imagine) returned to the United States in 1962. News of the defection made the front pages of American newspapers, four years before he would be reviled globally as the alleged assassin of JFK. Speaking of the late President, he held his last meeting with FBI Director, J Edgar Hoover this day in 1963.

Lee Harvey Oswald

31st October falls within the zodiac sign of Scorpio (23/10 to 21/11). Honesty and fairness are two qualities that make Scorpios a good friend to have – they are dedicated and loyal, but if they feel let down, it’s curtains. Quick-witted and intelligent, they are full of surprises but also very emotional. Ideal careers for Scorpios include scientist, physician, researcher, sailor, detective, business manager and psychologist.

 

I can think of only four Scorpios I’ve known – although I’m sure there are probably many others – one being super-blogger and lovely lady, Anne Williams (23/10) of Being Anne, a great supporter of writers and thoroughly good egg (whatever that means?) Then there’s a sister-in-law (10/11) who is mad as a box of frogs … seriously.

She’s the sort of person that if you pick up the phone and hear her voice on the other end, you really, really want to pretend nobody is in and you are the answering machine. Another I haven’t been in touch with for many years now – he (7/11) was a member of the Bomb Squad and worked in all sorts of hairy situations worldwide. I don’t know if it’s true, but he told me that a group of them were drinking in a bar (are the military allowed to drink in uniform off-base?) and someone asked what the bomb insignia on their sleeves stood for – they told him they were the Army darts team. The third (21/11) is a lecturer in Sociology, has OCD by the bucket load and is tattooed almost everywhere on his body (he tells me!) Typical Scorpios? You decide – I know who I’m voting for.

Boston Custer was born on 31st October 1848 – one of the younger brothers of Lt Colonel George, of Little Big Horn fame, or infamy. Boston – unlike brothers George and Thomas – was unable to officially join the army due to ill health and so became a civilian contractor. In this capacity he was a guide, forager, packer and scout for the regiment on the 1876 expedition against the Lakota Indian tribe. On June 25th, along with his teenage nephew Henry Armstrong (Autie) Reed, Boston was with the pack train at the rear of George’s troops when a messenger reported that his big bro had requested ammunition for an impending fight. Boston and Autie left the train to take the ammo forward and joined the main column, as it moved into position to attack a sprawling Indian village along the Little Big Horn River. If they had stayed put, they might have survived the battle that became known as Custer’s Last Stand. But they didn’t, and perished along with George and Thomas. A fourth brother, Nevin, became a farmer because he suffered from asthma and rheumatism and was not fit for the military, even as a civilian contractor – strangely lucky for him.

A century after Boston Custer, English actor Michael Kitchen was born in Leicester – although he’s been in many TV and film dramas, he’s perhaps best know now as DCS Christopher Foyle in Foyle’s War, who is driven around by the splendidly-named Honeysuckle Weeks and always gets his man.

Continuing the parts of a house name theme, American soap actress Deidre Hall was born a year before Michael, so Happy 70th today! – her twin sister, Andrea, is also an actress. In sharp contrast to MK’s prolific and varied career, Deidre has played the role of Dr Marlena Evans in Days of Our Lives for forty years – wow! She won her first award for the part in 1982 – the year another set of twins, aka the Cheeky Girls, were born on Halloween. I’m sure Monica and Gabriela Irimia have heard all the jokes, so I’ll leave it there.

Thanks again for having me, Jenny – and no, I am not wearing a horror mask, I always look like this.

Toodles.

NP

Nell Peters writes mainly Crime. Her two Accent Press novels can be found here: www.myBook.to/hostilewitness and www.myBook.to/BAON and other books are on Amazon KDP.

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Thank you ever so much Nell. Another stunning blog. Loved it.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

Blowing the Dust Off: Kirsten McKenzie’s Fifteen Postcards

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On August 17, 2017

In Blog, Fiction, Jenny Kane

It’s Day 4 of my ‘Blowing the Dust Off’ series of blogs. Today Kirsten McKenzie is taking time out from preparing for an archaeological adventure to tell us all about the fabulous novel, Fifteen Postcards.

Grab a cuppa and enjoy…

 

Travel Back in Time

Today I make the long journey from Auckland to Newcastle upon Tyne. Three different plane changes and one train trip will see me to my hotel in the centre of the city, where I suspect I shall then sleep for several hours. Why the long journey? I’m heading back to volunteer at an archaeological dig at Vindolanda, all in the name of research.

When I sat down to write my first novel, I didn’t plot or plan. I had no glorious ending in sight, I had merely made a sweeping statement to my family that I would write a novel when my youngest daughter started school, and so I did. I started with this paragraph:

“In a cramped little street, in a dusty corner of London, stands a set of two-storey brick facade shops. An architectural relic from last century, miraculously untouched by the bulldozers of modern developers. A greengrocer, a boutique, a gentlemen’s tailor, the ubiquitous Chinese dumpling shop, and The Old Curiosity Shop, an antique shop named after the Charles Dickens classic of the same name. The sort of shop passers-by would wonder if anyone ever went in or, indeed, whether they actually ever sold anything.”

That paragraph turned in ‘Fifteen Postcards’, a historical time slip novel traversing three continents and two centuries. It took me eighteen months to write, and even then it ended on a cliffhanger as the story grew too large for just one book.

A couple of months after ‘Fifteen Postcards’ was published by Accent Press, I turned up at Vindolanda for my first experience of volunteering on an archaeological site. And I fell in love. Every shovel full of dirt felt like a treasure hunt, but the sort of hunt where you all celebrate finding shards of pottery or slivers of glass. The most exciting article I found was a chair leg, beautifully preserved in the unique environment at Vindolanda.

It was that experience which dictated the direction the sequel to ‘Fifteen Postcards’ would then take. ‘The Last Letter’ was written in twelve months, and may include some references to digging up Roman statues….I’m not going to spoil the plot here!

Accent Press published ‘The Last Letter’ which again had an ending which nicely morphs into another sequel. So now my first novel ‘Fifteen Postcards’ has turned into a trilogy. It did that without me even realising, but time slip fiction does that to you. There are so many interesting threads of history you can weave into a storyline that you just don’t want to leave anything out.

My next book wasn’t the sequel to ‘The Last Letter’. Those characters needed to have a bit of time out, to sit around and stew in colonial New Zealand, or Victorian England, or underneath the rule of the Raj in India. While those characters were resting, I wrote ‘Painted’ a bloodless horror about an art appraiser and a houseful of malevolent portraits. Again, the antique dealer side of me couldn’t resist pulling in all the antique references.

‘Painted’ took eight months to write, so I’m getting faster which is a good thing! Now that’s out of my system I can revisit the wonderful characters from ‘Fifteen Postcards’ and ‘The Last Letter’ and maybe I’ll fling them into Roman Britain or modern day America? Who knows! But when I step onto the first plane today, I know that I will have my laptop with me, and two glorious weeks of free evenings to write in the most beautiful of locations, with very little responsibilities. And I’m imagining wonderful words will flow.

 

Kirsten excavating at Vindolanda

Author Bio
For many years Kirsten McKenzie worked in her family’s antique store, where she went from being allowed to sell the 50c postcards to selling $5,000 Worcester vases and seventeenth century silverware, providing a unique insight into the world of antiques which touches every aspect of her writing. Her time slip novels have been called Antiques Roadshow gone viral, and The Time Travellers Wife meets The Far Pavilions.

Her horror novel Painted was released in June 2017.

Now a full time author, she lives in New Zealand with her husband, daughters, and her SPCA rescue cat, and can be found procrastinating on Twitter.

Social Media Links

Facebook: www.facebook.com/kirstenmckenzieauthor

Twitter: www.twitter.com/kiwimrsmac

Instagram: www.instagram.com/kiwimrsmac

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/kiwimrsmac

Book Links:

UK Amazon: www.amazon.co.uk/Fifteen-Postcards-Travel-Solve-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00XXZIO0C

US Amazon: www.amazon.com/Fifteen-Postcards-Travel-Mystery-Curiosity-ebook/dp/B00XXZIO0C 

Many thanks Kirsten. What a great blog. I hope your excavation time is fantastic- not at all jealous…honest…

Come back tomorrow to hear what the lovely Rachel Brimble has to share with us.

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

End of the month blog: June bustin’ out all over

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On June 30, 2017

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction, Jenny Kane, News

It’s that time again! Let’s buckle up for another dip into Nell Peter’s end of the month reminisces… 

Hi Jen – and everyone else!

As the month totters to a close, was it a case of June bustin’ out all over? What does that even mean? When I was weeny, hearing the Rogers and Hammerstein song from Carousel on the radio, my lurid imagination pictured a rather buxom woman wearing a too-small blouse that strained at the seams to cover her modesty. Think Donald McGill postcards, or Beryl Cook-type painted ladies. In reality, of course, the lyrics refer to an exploding renewal of life for flowers and trees, plus all other things summery. Because I’m so easily amused, I’ll stick with my childish version.

June 2017 was not exactly a fun-filled thirty days. There was the General Election, rocking up on the 8th – as someone who typically shies away from making political comment, thereafter for me it came as a huge relief not to be bombarded with so many posts from others, championing their own particular favourite in the most blinkered, patronising and dogmatic fashion. Did they really think no one else capable of cogent reasoning, to weigh up pros and cons and sensibly make up their minds how best to vote? How very dare they? I’ll have them know I’m (thankfully) not as stupid as I look.

And the spats on social media if someone had the nerve to disagree! Some exchanges were simply amusing to those munching popcorn whilst indulging in a spot of spectator sport, others downright nasty. My lovely late brother-in-law used to vote Monster Raving Loony, because he couldn’t be doing with any of the other parties – he may have had a point. And at the end of the day, it’s probably fair to say nobody got the result they wanted, except perhaps the DUP, who must have thought all their birthdays came at once. That Arlene Foster looks a bit scary!

Before all the carnage at the Polls, #3 son made a brief, last minute trip home on June 1st to attend a friend’s wedding. Sadly, the date had to be massively brought forward because the bride’s father was given a short time to live. Son landed at Heathrow from Bangkok around 6 pm, got through customs and picked up a hire car to drive to Norfolk, stopping off at #4’s en route. To repay his brother’s hospitality, he broke the toilet seat in the downstairs loo before heading on here, arriving at gone midnight – the day of the wedding.

Up bright and early (well early, anyway) he sped off for a haircut and to buy a suit, shirt, tie and shoes to wear to the nuptials (he lives rather well on expenses and has grown out of the suits hanging in his wardrobe, playing hide and seek with the moths) – oh and a new toilet seat. As ever falling on his feet, Next had clobber packages on offer so he got himself sorted in record time, then back here, 2nd shower (can tell he’s been living in a hot climate), dressed, paraded for ‘does my bum look big in this?’ scrutiny, scribbled in a card and shoved in some money – all the friends did that to fund a honeymoon. Then he was gone, to pick up mate Charlie (also home for the occasion, but only from London – amateur!), leaving detritus and much dirty washing in his wake. Oh, and the huge open suitcase obstacle in the hall, guaranteed to cripple anyone entering the front door. By ten the next day he had returned from the venue, grabbed his stuff (including clean clothes) and left for Heathrow, to fly to Bangkok-Mumbai-Jaipur – rather him than me.

The first leg was a thirteen hour flight and #3 would have been roughly halfway through when Richard, a colleague of the OH, started walking across London Bridge with his brother-in-law (his wife being abroad on business.) They were minding their own business after dinner and drinks when a white van crashed and Richard ran toward it to help – I imagine when three men wielding very serious weapons leapt out he realised he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and decided to make himself scarce. He can’t remember; possibly not a bad thing.

He does vaguely recall sitting on the pavement, thinking he’d been punched and wondering where all the blood that was pooling underneath him was coming from – and why he couldn’t breathe. When he heard shots, he thought his end had come, but a soldier on leave had other ideas, pushed him down and lay on top of him to stop profuse bleeding from stab wounds that had penetrated spleen, diaphragm and lung; interesting but effective technique that they don’t actually teach at med school. And because of that soldier’s quick thinking, and the fact that he is super-fit, Richard will make a full recovery – physically at least.

Two days after that, I heard that my long-ago American friend James (Jim) Angel had died from Lewy Body dementia, a multisystem disease which, like all forms of dementia, cruelly turns the sufferer into an empty shell, a shadow of their former self. I knew that he had been diagnosed and was receiving treatment in a specialist care facility in Portland, Oregon – last Christmas a mutual friend sent me a photo of a frail, grey-haired old man looking blankly at Santa. He wasn’t much older than me. But let me tell you about the Jim I knew and adored (in a purely platonic way!):

He was a peace-loving draft dodger (Vietnam – can’t argue with him there), living in London with his first wife (also American and a trainee nurse), working at BA Heathrow as an aeronautical scientist.

About my height (5’ 9”), he wasn’t much less around his girth and had a Brian Blessed-type voice and laugh, though cuter because of the accent – especially when he called everyone ‘shit bag’ as a term of affection. Bearded with a mass of dark, curly long hair and always dressed like a scruffy hippy, his larger than life personality belied a pretty grim childhood; his father was an alcoholic and aged eleven, Jim discovered his mum’s body in the garage of their home after she’d shot herself. One can only imagine …

We didn’t share a taste in music – he Captain Beefheart, me far more prosaic stuff, but we did go to a lot of gigs, including Pink Floyd and Elton John, which he cringed all the way through. After his wife left him, he returned to the US and while I was living in Montreal, I flew to California and spent most of one summer there. It was a brilliant time – he bought a rust bucket car for touring and we camped in forests and on beaches (so cold, even in CA!), watching seals in the Pacific Ocean and collecting beautiful driftwood, which he thought he might turn into ‘something real neat’ when he got time. We also went skinny-dipping in creeks – my first and last time, as it’s me that creeks now!

The Chinese Exhibition was on in San Francisco and we queued for hours from dawn to see it – passing the time shivering and watching the mist roll from the hills to engulf the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz, listening to eerie foghorns. When the time came for my return flight, I didn’t know I’d never see him in the flesh again, although we did communicate in other ways, but not for some years now. Fly high, Jim Angel – you are free.

After living with it at close-ish quarters for more than a decade, dementia has touched me (actually, more like hit me over the head with an iron bar!) more than usual during June, after my mother was taken to hospital following an early morning fall – although couldn’t remember what happened because she, like my father, suffers from the vascular form. So, off I went to sit on trains for four hours in order to imitate Florrie Nightingale on her less impressive days. Neither of my parents have any short term memory whatsoever and refuse to leave the house – they have a team of visiting carers to ensure they are fed, watered, clean and safe, most of whom are very good, a few not so much. Lately, my father spends all his time in bed and when he’s not sleeping, he’s barking orders through the house – he seems to have regressed to childhood, when the household retained several servants. Fortunately, the OH was able to base himself in Twickenham for the nine, very long, days that I spent chez folks, disappearing to Starbucks or the library to use the internet when required. Don’t tell him, but without his company and the very late dinners we shared in the garden when all was quiet, I would have quickly overtaken certifiably insane. My ears are worn out from conversations with medics and bods from all manner of agencies, many of whom contradict the others. Mum is home and all is quiet on the western front again – for how long, your guess is as good as mine.

In 2012, along with over three thousand other hopefuls, I submitted a radio drama script to the BBC Writers’ Room hoping to have it accepted for production.

My masterpiece made it through three weedings and made the final thirty, before it fell flat on its face at the final hurdle. I’ll leave you with an excerpt – Jack and Joyce are an elderly couple with dementia, and Glenda their long-suffering daughter.

Toodles

NP

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SCENE ONE:

INT: EARLY MORNING. KITCHEN. A WOMAN (JOYCE) IS HUMMING TUNELESSLY, WAITING FOR A KETTLE TO BOIL.

SFX: KETTLE. DISTANT TAPPING ON GLASS.

MALE (JACK) CALLING JOYCE’S NAME THROUGH GLASS.

JOYCE:                                           (REGISTERING) What on earth…? (LOUDER)

What are you doing out there, Jack? I’m making tea.

JACK:                                                   (OFF, MUFFLED THROUGH GLASS) I seem to have locked myself out, Majesty.

JOYCE:                                                You old fool. (HUFFING) Well where are the keys?

JACK:                                                   (OFF) I don’t know.

JOYCE:                                                Have you tried your dressing gown pocket?

JACK:                                                   (OFF) Erm…I’m not sure, I don’t remember.

JOYCE:                                                Well, have a look!

                                                                SFX: KEYS RATTLING THROUGH GLASS. THEN A KEY TURNING IN THE LOCK AND A DOOR OPENING.

JACK:                                                   I found them (LAUGHS) they were in my pocket all the time.

JOYCE:                                                What were you doing out in the garden anyway – you’ll catch a cold.

JACK:                                                   I went out to do something, but now I can’t remember what. Can I have a naughty, to warm me up? I don’t feel very well.

JOYCE:                                                I think I put the kettle on to make tea.

JACK:                                                   (LITTLE BOY SNIGGER) I’d rather have a naughty.

JOYCE:                                                Or did I make a pot of tea?

JACK:                                                   Is it Thursday today, Joyce?

JOYCE:                                                I don’t know – have a look at the paper.

JACK:                                                   Where is it?

JOYCE:                                                I don’t know. Shall I make tea?

JACK:                                                   Good idea, Majesty.

                                                                SFX: JOYCE OPENS THE FRIDGE. GLASS MILK BOTTLES CHINK.

JOYCE:                                                Oh dear; we do seem to have a lot of milk. Perhaps I should write a note for the milkman.

JACK:                                                   Why?

JOYCE:                                                No, you’re right – we’ll use it up, I expect. Or I’ll end up throwing it away…maybe I’ll put a note out next week.

JACK:                                                   What day is it today, Majesty?

JOYCE:                                                I don’t know – is it Friday? I’m not sure… No, it can’t be Friday because the dustmen haven’t been. Or at least I didn’t hear them.

JACK:                                                   Do the dustmen usually come on Friday?

JOYCE:                                                Yes, except over Christmas and Easter – then you never know when they’ll turn up. (TUTS) Disgraceful, when we pay so much in rates, or whatever they call them now.

JACK:                                                   Did we put the rubbish out?

JOYCE:                                                Oh yes, I expect so. That doesn’t mean to say they’ll collect it though. They don’t always – probably because you didn’t give them a big tip at Christmas.

JACK:                                                   Is it time for a naughty yet? It’s for medicinal purposes; I don’t feel very well at all. I think maybe I should have stayed in bed.

JOYCE:                                                I wonder if the dustmen have been…or if we’ll have to wait until next week…

                                                                PAUSE FOR A MOMENT.

JACK:                                                   Do you remember my friend Ralph Windsor?

JOYCE:                                                Of course I do, Jack – he was your Best Man… and he had that nice wife from Scotland.

JACK:                                                   Scotland? I don’t remember that. Have we had breakfast yet?

JOYCE:                                                I’m not sure. Would you like some toast? I think we’ve got some bread left.

JACK:                                                   I fancy fish and chips…could we have fish and chips? Do you fancy fish and chips, Majesty?

JOYCE:                                                Someone has to go out and buy fish and chips and we’re not dressed. Anyway, I’m not sure if they’re open yet; shall I do some toast?

JACK:                                                   Okay, yes please. With marmalade…no, make it honey. I like honey, don’t you? And if I could have a naughty with it, that would be very nice.

JOYCE:                                                Now, did I make the tea? Or have we drunk it already?

                                                                PAUSE FOR A MOMENT.

JACK:                                                   My friend Ralph Windsor was a jolly nice chap…very clever. Is he dead, Joyce?

JOYCE:                                                I think so. Shall I put the kettle on?

JACK:                                                   Why did he die?

JOYCE:                                                I don’t know.

JACK:                                                   Very clever boy, old Ralphie. I met him when we were seven – he’d dug a hole in the woods and when he went home for lunch I played in it. He came back and we started fighting over whose hole it was. (LAUGHS) Is he dead, now?

JOYCE:                                                Probably – I don’t think we’ve seen him for quite a while. Wasn’t his wife from Scotland?

JACK:                                                   Was she? Is she dead now? Do you know, I must be getting old because I can’t remember.

JOYCE:                                                I think she went back to Scotland…his wife. I forget her name.

                                                                SFX: TELEPHONE RINGS OFF IN THE HALLWAY, CONTINUING.

JACK:                                                   Is that someone at the door, Joyce?

JOYCE:                                                No, of course not – it’s the phone.

JACK:                                                   Who is it?

JOYCE:                                                How do I know?

PAUSE FOR A MOMENT

JACK:                                                   Aren’t you going to answer it, Joyce – I don’t feel at all well. I may have to go back to bed.

JOYCE:                                                (SIGHS) Looks like I’ll have to – I wonder who it is.

JACK:                                                   Poor old Ralphie…such a nice chap – and clever with it too. He had a very important job in the war – I remember he was on several convoys that were attacked by U-boats… (BEAT) Ralph’s father was a Regimental Sergeant Major, then a Yeoman of the Guard at the Tower – he looked magnificent when he was all dressed up in his uniform. A real gentleman…

                                                                THE PHONE STOPS RINGING.

JOYCE:                                                They’ve hung up! They didn’t wait very long…no patience at all some people…Never mind – if it’s important they’ll ring back next week.

JACK:                                                   That’s what my dear old mum used to say. I think it was her, anyway.

JOYCE:                                                There was nothing ‘dear’ about your mother – she didn’t think I was good enough to marry into her precious family…Huh! Would you like a cup of tea? I could put the kettle on.

JACK:                                                   Yes please, Majesty – unless I could have a naughty instead? I feel a bit rough – I think I should go back to bed.

JOYCE:                                                Well go back to bed, if you really think you should. I’ll make tea.

JACK:                                                   I remember meeting Ralph’s dad on the station once – he was all dressed up in his regalia. Magnificent – I felt I should salute him. Pucker gentleman, he was.

JOYCE:                                                What did you have for breakfast?

JACK:                                                   Damned if I can remember. (BEAT) Is it Monday today?

JOYCE:                                                I expect so. (BEAT) What do you fancy for lunch? (BEAT) I really must get my hair cut – I’ll make an appointment next week. (BEAT) I think I’ll get a shower now.

SCENE TWO:

INT: MID-MORNING. JOYCE HAS GONE TO ANSWER THE FRONT DOOR.

JOYCE:                                                (FROSTILY) Oh hello; it’s you, Glenda. I wasn’t expecting you – is it Saturday today?

GLENDA:                                            Yes, it’s Saturday. I tried ringing earlier – but there was no reply.

JOYCE:                                                Oh, I was probably out shopping.

GLENDA:                                            (VO) Pull the other one – you haven’t been out shopping since Elvis was breathing. (TO JOYCE) Never mind, I’m here now – shall I put the kettle on?

JOYCE:                                                What a good idea, I fancy a cup of tea. So, how are the girls? We haven’t seen them for a very long while.

GLENDA:                                            (TO JOYCE) Chloe was here in the week, Mum. She made you a nice chicken casserole. (VO) Stop wasting your breath. (TO JOYCE) They are all fine, thanks, except Claire’s a bit worried about these ‘A’ level exams she’s got coming up. If she doesn’t get the grades, she won’t get into her first choice of university so she’s panicking a bit.

JOYCE:                                                That’s nice dear – just hang your jacket on the banister and we’ll go on through to the kitchen.

SFX: COAT BEING FLUNG OVER WOOD, CARRIER BAGS RUSTLING.

JOYCE:                                                Ooh – is that something for me?

GLENDA:                                            I picked up a few bits and pieces on my way here – we’ll make up a proper shopping list in a minute, while we’re having tea. Where’s Dad?

JOYCE:                                                Oh…um…he’s around somewhere. Or maybe he went shopping.

JACK:                                                   (OFF) Is that you Glennie? I’m just up here getting dressed. I haven’t been feeling too well…

***

Another corking blog. Thanks Nell- especially for taking the time to write this wonderful piece when you’ve had such a testing month!

Great script!! You should resubmit it.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx

Robin Hood: A Very Mini Medieval and Tudor Ballad History

By

On January 16, 2017

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction, Jennifer Ash, Jenny Kane, medieval, News, Romance

I admit it- I had a lot of fun writing my novel, Romancing Robin Hood and my novella The Outlaw’s Ransom. Each project gave me the chance to take a self indulgent trip down memory lane, and dig out all my PhD notes on the ballad history behind the Robin Hood legend. Although Romancing Robin Hood is a modern contemporary romance, it also contains a second story- a medieval mystery which has more than a hint of the Robin Hood’s about it.

The earliest balladeers sang tales of Robin Hood long before they were written down, and audiences through history have all had different ideas of what Robin Hood was like in word, action, and appearance. Every writer, film maker, and poet ever since the first tales were spoken, has adapted the outlaw figure to fit their own imagination.

Lytell Geste

The Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode

 

The earliest mention found (to date), of the name Robin Hood appears in the poem The Vision of Piers Plowman, which was written by William Langland in c.1377.

A long ballad, Piers Plowman was a protest against the harsh conditions endured by the poor in the Fourteen Century. Not only did it mention Robin Hood, but makes reference to he outlaw gang, the Folvilles, who research suggests were an influence on those whose exploits wrote the Robin Hood ballads.

 

“And some ryde and to recovere that unrightfully was wonne:

He wised hem wynne it ayein wightnesses of handes,

And fecchen it from false men with Folvyles lawes.”

The Folville family were incredibly dangerous, influential, and had great impact on the Midlands of the UK in the Fourteenth Century. I’ll be introducing this family of brothers to you properly very soon; for they are something of an obsession for historian Dr Grace Harper- the lead character in Romancing Robin Hood.

RH and the monk

Robin Hood and the Monk

 

In 1450 the earliest single short ballad, Robin Hood and the Monk, was committed to paper, but it wasn’t until 1510 that the original story (Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode), was recorded in its entirety.

With the arrival of the printing press in Tudor and Elizabethan times, all of the most popular stories we recognise today were recorded for prosperity. Some of these stories had medieval roots, but many were were brand new pieces. The Tudor audience was as keen for fresh tales containing their favourite heroes as we are today. These ‘new’ tales included Robin Hood and Gisborne (c.1500) and Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar (c.1550) – who became known as Friar Tuck.

The Tudors loved the stories of Robin Hood. He was more popular then than he is now. Tudor documents are littered with mentions of Robin Hood’s all over Britain. For example-

– in 1497 Roger Marshall called himself Robin Hood, and lead a riot of 200 men in Staffordshire.

– in 1509, ten Robin Hood plays were banned in Exeter by the city council, as they had become a public nuisance.

Robin Hood’s most famous Tudor fan was Henry VIII himself. In fact, apart from hunting, eating, and getting married, Henry’s favourite hobby was acting. Sometimes he dressed up as Robin Hood. The king would wear a mask, and his audience had to pretend they didn’t know it was him, and had to look surprised when he revealed his true identity at the end of the play.

In 1510 Henry VIII and eleven of his nobles dressed as Robin Hood and broke into the Queen’s private rooms, apparently giving her the fright of her life! (Up to that point anyway!)

Thank you for letting me share a little of my Robin Hood passion with you today.

Romancing Robin Hood is available now on Nook, Kobo, Kindle and in paperback from all good retailers, including-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

The Outlaw’s Ransom is available as a Kindle download – (published under the name Jennifer Ash, this novella was previously published as the medieval part of the Romancing Robin Hood novel mentioned above.)

http://amzn.to/2dr5ZPo

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

Interview with Marie Evelyn: The Turtle Run

By

On August 4, 2016

In Blog, Fiction, Historical fiction, Interview

It’s interview time at my blog today, and I’m delighted to welcome Marie Evelyn to the chair. Let’s pop the kettle on- but how many cups are we going to need/

Over to you Marie…

coffee and cake

What inspired you to write your book?

The Turtle Run was inspired by something my mother once witnessed in Barbados (described in the book). She came across barefooted, blue-eyed, fair-haired children struggling to carry buckets of water from a standpipe to their chattel house and learned that they were the descendants of the Monmouth rebels, who were exiled from England to Barbados in 1685.

This experience encouraged my mother to study more about the Monmouth rebellion, led by Charles II’s illegitimate son, the Duke of Monmouth. Although the book is contemporary, and has a strong romantic element, the theme is about how people’s lives are influenced by the fate of their ancestors. Certainly the miserable situation of many ‘Redlegs’ (to give them their politically incorrect name) was the legacy of their exiled forebears.

Do you model any of your characters after people you know? If so, do these people see themselves in your characters?

The self-interested Francesca was based on a neighbour and school classmate of mine in Barbados. (Name changed – of course). To be fair, she may have matured into a wonderful woman fighting for human rights since I was on the island, but when I knew her, all the indications were that she would take ‘shallowness’ to new depths.

The Turtle Run cover

What type of research did you have to do for your book?

My mother had a long association with Barbados and we lived on the island throughout my childhood. There was also a family connection to the Redlegs. My mother did a little research out there to try and discover more about the original exiled Monmouth Rebels but it was only many years later – after we had moved to the UK and my parents had retired to Dorset – that she was really able to research the beginning of the story, which has so many local connections with south-west England.

The Somerset Heritage Centre (http://www1.somerset.gov.uk/archives/) was a useful source of information and this short event in British history has inspired some really interesting books. But for a ‘Monmouth fix’, I would leave the non-fiction books and turn to Lorna Doone.

What excites you the most about your book?

The book has a strong theme of trying to understand the present through understanding the past. Although I am more interested in the challenge of writing a story where there is a connection between a contemporary character’s situation and the situation of his/her ancestors from hundreds of years before, just having characters uncover a secret about their own immediate family can be really engaging.

If you were stranded on a desert island with three other people, fictional or real, who would they be and why?

Enid Blyton would be one as I have a rather complicated relationship with her. Of course, several of her books were on the theme of children living on islands, though as practical guides to island-survival they would be pretty hopeless as the children never seemed to have much problem finding food, and never had go to the loo. I should be very grateful to her for firing my young imagination, but the problem was that I assumed her stories had some basis in reality. As my image of what England would be like was entirely informed by her books, I experienced no small disappointment when we did finally move here, and as for my subsequent experience of boarding school – let’s just say that I felt very misled. I would probably end up chasing her around the island pelting coconuts at her.

I would also choose Louisa Dixie Durrell – who must have been a real character but was reduced to ‘Mother’ in Gerald Durrell’s books and who seemed to have a very placatory role during her children’s squabbles.  I imagine she would act as peacekeeper on the island, and would try to persuade Blyton that I wasn’t throwing coconuts deliberately. Finally, I would have Baroness Elsa Schraeder (Captain Von Trapp’s fiancée in the Sound Of Music) to add a touch of style and class. She could enjoy the child-free island and use the time to reflect on her extreme good luck at losing Von Trapp and his warbling children to an ex-nun with a guitar.

I guess our survival would depend upon Enid Blyton’s expert naturalist knowledge, and I would have to hope that she’d forgotten the whole coconut-pelting episode.

Links

https://www.facebook.com/Marie-Evelyn-920546144697589/

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Turtle-Run-Marie-Evelyn/dp/1783753277

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28330185-the-turtle-run

 Marie Gameson photo

 

Bio

Marie Evelyn are a mother and daughter team originally from the Caribbean but now based in the UK.

Mother Margot (Margot Gameson née Evelyn) has been published previously as Mary Evelyn and daughter Marie Gameson was longlisted for The Bridport First Novel Prize in 2015. The Turtle Run is their first novel together and is based on their firsthand experiences of growing up in Barbados, showing a side of the island probably unknown to most visitors.

A former journalist, Margot in particular has seen the island go through a lot of changes, especially in the lead up to independence – Barbados celebrates its 50th anniversary as an independent nation this year. However The Turtle Run shows there are still resonances of its lesser known history on the island today.

The family moved to the UK in the 1970s and eventually settled in an area where many of the Monmouth rebels originally came from. Margot is now retired and Marie works in IT.

***

Wonderful interview, many thanks Marie,

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx

Nothing Forgotten: The Hooded Man Event

By

On May 2, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction

This weekend I found myself in a situation I never thought I’d be in. Okay- that’s a sentence I’ve said fairly often since I started this writing lark (especially when I’m being that Kay Jaybee person).

This weekend however, it is totally true.

As I type this I am reflecting on two days sat in a room of stall holders within the beautiful St Pierre Marriott Hotel, nr Chepstow. Why so far from home?  I was attending The Hooded Man event- a celebration of the immensely popular television series from the 1980’s- Robin of Sherwood.

You cannot have escaped noticing if you’re a follower of this blog, that I am something of a Robin Hood fan. I like everything about the legend- and that love was engendered by Robin of Sherwood. I don’t claim that it saved my life or anything, but it set my imagination racing off in a direction previously unexplored- and it hasn’t stopped racing since.

I never thought I’d be in a situation where I’d be able to thank some of the people that sparked that flame of interest in me a shy teenager. A spark that took me on a journey which has been both exciting and unexpected, and has taken me from archaeologist, to medieval historian, to novelist, literary festival organiser, writing tutor and, in the future, who knows what else.

So here I am now- a day after the event- in the corner of the cafe where I write my fiction; thinking about the experience of selling my books to the conference attendees. It is incredible how many people I met that feel their lives have been as influenced by the simple act of watching a television programme. And- if I’m honest- feeling oddly emotional that I did have the chance to say thank you- and that my words were appreciated, and not merely kindly tolerated.

This particular event is especially important for RoS fan’s. For the first time in 30 years, all the surviving cast members have reunited to record an audio follow up the final televised episode, which was first televised in 1986. This new episode, The Knights of the Apocalypse, stars Jason Connery as Robin, and has been produced by the lovely Barnaby Eaton-Jones.

With Barnaby Eaton-Jones

With Barnaby Eaton-Jones

It is thanks to Barnaby that I was at the event, surrounded by those men and women who set my life on its roller coaster course. Jason Connery, Michael Praed, Judy Trott, Mark Ryan, Peter Llewellyn Williams, Clive Mantle, Jeremy Bulloch, Claire Toeman, Michael Craig, James Coombes, Rula Lenska and Marcus Gilbert were all present, and correct, and on fine form. As was the incredible force of nature that is Esta Charkham, the programmes casting director and then producer. The woman has a magic eye for casting- thank goodness!

The cast are all so kind, friendly- and very funny. Mark Ryan (Nasir) has had us all in stitches many times with his- shall we say ‘puckish’ sense of humour! This was particularly the case when the cast performed a ‘cut scene’ from the audio show live on the event stage- I can’t tell you what it was about- but the humour was adult, and it was very very funny. I will not mention Mark’s disco dancing, as that would be cruel…. I will tell you however, that we were all treated- all be it 30 years late to witness the wedding of Little John and Meg of Wickham- thanks to vicar Barnaby!

Wedding of Little John and Meg – (Official event photo)

There were many interview sessions held throughout the day, and although I was unable to attend many as I was busy selling my words to unwitting passersby, those I did see were so much fun. Held together by “The last word in RoS himself”- Andrew Orton- (if you are a fan, and you haven’t purchased his two volume set The Hooded Man– then pop them on your Christmas list the very minute), the cast chats were informative and light hearted, and it was clear that every actor, whether they have gone on to be household names, or whether it was their only acting job, have as much affection for the show as those that came to see them.

20160501_111458

My book, Romancing Robin Hood, contains the line ‘It’s all Jason Connery’s fault.’ So when Jason came to my stand, those were the first words I (unintentionally), found myself speaking- which luckily, he found funny. Somehow I managed to intrigue him enough for him to buy a copy. It is a weird feeling when a renowned actor and director asks for my autograph. A situation which repeated itself later, when Peter (Much) also bought a copy. I am – of course- now terrified neither of them will like it!! If I had been thinking straight, I would have asked them for a photograph of them holding my book, but I wasn’t thinking straight. In fact I was thinking, these are two extremely kind men, who have a word-ish creatively that I understand totally, and in different circumstances I would have loved to have talked words with them for much longer. (Yes that is what I was thinking!! Honestly- you doubters you!!!)

As well as having the chance to acquire autographs and photos with the stars; there was plenty of opportunity to eat way too much medieval fayre (with the odd drop of alcohol). There were excellent displays of archery and sword play from Bowlore, Andrew Orton was busy selling his much respected books on the background to the series, and there was the chance to buy fabulous event t-shirts. You could also buy these gorgeous little figures inspired by the show; the event had lots to offer.

The days past have been truly wonderful. They have added greatly to my store of memories and- without a doubt- will form the basis for a new story. Trust me- the people watching alone could fuel a trilogy!

I made some lovely new friends, put faces to the names of Facebook friends, and finally caught up with the lovely Jonathan Greene, who is writing the novel version of The Knights of the Apocalypse. Actually- he was sat next to me writing it for most of Sunday- it was soooo hard not too peep!

12717744_234351016902796_6660334745540057652_n

A final thank you to Barnaby and his delicious wife, Kim.

When Richard ‘Kip’ Carpenter first penned the catchphrase, ‘Nothing’s Forgotten’ for Robin of Sherwood over thirty years ago, I wonder if he had any idea how pertinent those words would become.

Nothings Forgotten. Nothing is ever forgotten.

Jenny x

RH- RoS 2

 

Interview with N.B. Dixon: Outlaws Legacy

By

On April 14, 2016

In Blog, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction, Interview

Regular readers of this blog will know that I adore anything to do with Robin Hood. Recently, thanks to the rebirth of Robin of Sherwood (see my previous blogs), I have met many other writers who share my interest. I couple of days ago I was fortunate enough to interview the lovely N.B.Dixon, and question her about her own outlaw obsession, and how she is interpreting it for a modern audience.

So pull up a chair, rest those weary legs, and have a read.

coffee and cake

When did you first encounter Robin Hood as a character?

I had a free period one Friday afternoon and I was buried in a corner of the school library. I had been given two tapes, one was a straightforward narration of the Robin Hood legend, the other, as I’ve only recently discovered, was an audio-book adaptation of one of the episodes of the TV series, Robin of Sherwood. I don’t remember why the librarian gave me these tapes to listen to, whether I’d expressed an interest in Robin Hood, or whether it was just something she thought I would like.

I was a bookworm even in those days. However, my love of Robin Hood was born. It’s the only time I can ever remember being disappointed when I heard the school bell.

User comments

How much historical research have you done on the subject of Robin Hood?

I’ve done extensive research into the Robin Hood legend, trawling various websites in an effort to locate any real-life men who might have been the outlaw. Though there’s no proof Robin Hood ever existed, the parallels between the legend and certain real-life men are fascinating. I’ve also

done considerable research into the period of history in which the Robin Hood legend is set, namely, the reigns of Henry II and his sons, RichardI, known as the Lionheart, and his brother, Prince John. Richard and John have always figured the most prominently in the Robin Hood stories. I’ve

visited the places in which the Robin Hood legend is set, most memorably, Sherwood Forest, and I’ve also handled a longbow and been put in the stocks, all in the name of research.

What is your writing regime?

I tend to write in the morning, then break for lunch and write again in the afternoon. I take a longer break late afternoon and once dinner is over, I turn my attention to any editing I might have to do. More often than not I’m writing one book and editing another.

RH books 2

What excites you the most about your book?

The idea of adding to the Robin Hood legend excites me. There have been so many different interpretations of the story over the years. I wanted to find a balance between telling the legend people were familiar with, and placing my own stamp on it. For me, the most exciting thing about writing this series is the love interest for Robin. Outlaws Legacy is the story behind the legend of Robin Hood. It chronicles his life from his childhood onwards and tells the story beneath the surface legend we are all familiar with.

On the surface, many readers will be familiar with the story; a young nobleman loses his land, becomes an outlaw, meets a rich heiress etc. My Robin however has a secret, and this secret is that he is in fact in love with another man. I wanted to portray someone who, on the outside, was the people’s champion, confident, brave, all the things a hero should be, but beneath this facade was a man with his own doubts and troubles, a human being who would make mistakes and discover things about himself.

I’ve really enjoyed describing the romance as it has unfolded over the series. Currently, book 1, Heir of Locksley, is with my publisher and due for release late 2016/early 2017. I have just completed book 2 and there are still two more books to go in the series.

These books have challenged me in ways I could never have expected and I’m only halfway through. I can’t wait to see what else I will encounter on this journey.

Which is your favourite medieval outlaw apart from Robin Hood?

I think that would have to be Fulk FitzWarin. His story is similar to that of Robin Hood in that his lands are stolen from him and he fights to get them back. His story is a bit of a cross between Robin Hood and King Arthur as he fights just as many dragons and monsters as he does people.

Like Robin, his story also has a bittersweet ending as although he is able to reclaim what was stolen from him, he loses his site in the process as a punishment for the lives he has taken. I always found that story rather moving.

If you were stranded on a desert island with three other people, fictional or real, who would they be and why?

Robin Hood of course, since I’m sure his hunting skills would come in very handy. I’d pick Sherlock Holmes so that I could have intelligent conversation, and I’d choose Harry Potter so that if anything came along to threaten me, he could wave his magic wand and incapacitate it somehow.

Between the three of them, I think I’d be pretty safe.

***

For more information on the Outlaws Legacy series, please visit

http://www.nbdixonauthor.com/

Bio

I’ve made up stories since I was a child. I loved to take characters from my favourite books or television programs and make up stories about them or continue existing stories. In fact, if I had ever published them, I’d be in flagrant breach of copyright.

Away from all things literary, I am an enthusiastic theatre goer. I also play the piano for pleasure and I like to sing when I’m sure no one can hear me. I’m fond of cooking and long walks, and even now I’m still a self-confessed bookworm.

***

Many thanks hun. Great ideas there- Do you buy the Richard I and Prince John era for Robin Hood’s ballads?

Good luck with your series.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx

 

 

Guest Post from Neil Griffiths: Hidden London

By

On April 5, 2016

In Blog, Fiction, News

I have a fascinating blog for you today from fellow author, Neil Griffiths. Why not grab a cuppa, pop your feet up for a few minutes, and have a read.

Neil’s book, Isabella’s Heiress, is out now.

Over to you Neil…

coffee and cake

At 2 King Edward Street in the City of London, just opposite Saint Paul’s Cathedral, Merrill Lynch Bank of America have their UK headquarters. This is a matter of public record. You can see it on Google Maps, travel past it in a cab or just take a gentle stroll through the gardens of Christchurch Greyfriars next door.

What is less well known is that below the Merrill Lynch Financial Centre (or the MLFC as it is more commonly known) there is a walkway that allows you to take in the Roman ruins that were discovered there whilst the building was being constructed in the late nineties and early two thousands. It is neatly floodlit with soft lighting and has a glass roof which doubles as part of the reception floor. From above, there is a glass and steel barrier which allows guests and employees to look down and take in the ancient works.

The ruins are a small segment of the London Wall and are part of a much larger structure which ran for two miles in a semi-circle from Holborn, in the west, to Tower Hill, in the east. They are a symbol of a City of London that often gets forgotten in a world where, to many people, the City is more representative of the financial industry and all the recent history that goes with that. The truth here, though, is that there is a much older and more colourful history, under the pavements and around the corner, than is first realised.

Not far from the MLFC is Gresham Street, where you can find the Guildhall. A Guildhall has stood at this location for several hundred years. Again, what is less well known is that there is a ring of black bricks in the courtyard that has to be crossed by anybody that wishes to enter the Guildhall proper. These represent the perimeter of the Roman amphitheatre that was discovered when the Guildhall art gallery was being redeveloped in 1985 and is now directly below the main courtyard. This amphitheatre dates from the first century AD and was the Wembley Stadium of its day, holding up to seven thousand spectators who would watch the gladiators and animals battle it out. Should anybody wish to see it there is a visitors centre directly below the Guildhall Art Gallery which allows access to the remains of the amphitheatre during the working day and at the weekend.

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When I was a child I can remember being brought to the City of London by my parents, on a Sunday, and thinking that it was quite dowdy and downbeat. This was in the early eighties and was a few years before the financial markets went through the Big Bang of 1986. Once that event took place American banks started to flock to London, to take advantage of the loosening of financial regulations, and encountered a problem that was not immediately obvious at the start. The complete lack of any suitable property to house the incoming banks. This was solved by a building boom that started in the City then headed east toward Tower Hamlets where the new business district of Canary Wharf was created. Whilst the builders in Canary Wharf succeeded only in digging up unexploded World War 2 bombs, the builders in the City found themselves being increasingly hamstrung by the amount of ancient foundations and cemeteries that kept coming to the fore as they dug down to prepare the ground for the next skyscraper. On each occasion work would have to stop and the site was handed over to archaeologists before it could recommence. Bad news for the contractors, good news for the archaeologists or anyone else who had an interest in old London (unless of course the cemetery that got unearthed turned out to be a plague pit. I’m guessing you’d probably want to cover those back up pretty sharpish.)

But it’s not just the subterranean parts of London that have survived the test of time. At 111 Cannon Street, almost opposite the station of the same name, is a small grille in a wall. Behind that grille is kept the London Stone which is commonly thought to have been the point from which the distances of all the journeys to and from London were measured. There are no solid records as to when it was first placed in the centre of Cannon Street but it is thought that this could be anytime from the Roman era to 1100 AD.

It was discovering things like this that inspired my thinking when it came to writing my debut novel, Isabella’s Heiress. The thought that there is a secret world beneath and around us that is, if not completely invisible then hidden in plain site, gave rise to any number of ‘what if’s’ and ultimately brought about the idea of a woman who finds herself in a dark, hidden version of London after she has died in an accident. The history of the City of London allowed me to imagine a world where a parallel city could exist next to the one we live in now and then play with the story of a metropolis that has been around for two millennia.

But the truth, I think, is that whatever we choose to create as writers and consume as readers, sometimes there is nothing more strange and outlandish than reality. So I’ll leave you with this little fact. If you ever visit Greenwich Park, in South London, take a look around as you walk down Crooms Hill. You may notice that the ground is very uneven. This isn’t because the park is on a hill, although that is very much the case, it’s because the park contains a large Saxon barrow cemetery from around the 6th century, that consists of 50 round barrows. A large number of which, if you look hard, can be identified by the fact that they are surround by tufts of grass that mark out their perimeter.

So if you are out and about and have a few minutes to spare, take a closer look at your surroundings and remember, there is so much out there in our cities and towns that we just take for granted but just below the surface there is a long and colourful history that is just waiting to be uncovered.

***

Bio

So, a little about me (this is the bit I hate.) I work in IT for the day job but write in my spare time. I’m a voracious reader and have been writing since I was at school in one form or another but only decided to get serious about it ten years ago. The end result is Isabella’s Heiress, a novel about a woman who finds herself out of time and in a whole new world of trouble.

I’m now starting to research the second book in the series and am hoping to start writing it early next year.

Links

Isabella’s Heiress on Amazon (I would do the full Amazon address but, seriously, have you seen how long those things are!!)

www.facebook.com/IsabellasHeiress/

twitter.com/neilpgriffiths

My Goodreads page

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Many thanks for such a great blog. I adore discovering hidden gems of history like that.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

Nothing’s Forgotten: Booking at The Hooded Man Event

By

On April 2, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction

What a year it’s turning out to be! There are days when I can’t believe my luck. Here I am, black coffee at my side (of course!), a packet of chocolate buttons on standby, a new book deal with WHSmith to sell my forthcoming novel, Another Glass of Champagne, in its airport, railway station, and service station shops, and two new novel contracts on the starting slopes- and, to add the cherry to my virtual cupcake, I have been invited to sell my part modern/part medieval novel, Romancing Robin Hood at this years celebration of all things ‘Robin of Sherwood’ – The Hooded Man II event.

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If you are a regular to this site, you’ll know that I have been running a series of blogs about Robin of Sherwood, which is being revived as a one off audio show called, The Knights of the Apocalypse. (#KOTA). If you’ve missed them, you can find the blogs here- Blog 1, Blog 2, Blog 3

I am looking forward to attending The Hooded Man event at Chepstow on 30th April- 1st May. I’m also a bit nervous!! This is a massive event, with people travelling from all over the world to attend- and I’ll be on my own with a pile of books!! However- I am SO excited. What an opportunity! Maybe- at last- I’ll be able to thank, in person, the people who set my life on its path of historical research and fiction!

RH- RoS 2

And what better day than this- 2nd April 2016- to announce that I’ll be attending this RoS event- as it was on this very day, at 5.35pm, 30 years ago, that Jason Connery first took his longbow as Robin Hood, in the opening episode of series three- Hernes Son (Part1) Where do the years go?!

I look forward to seeing some of you at the event!!

Happy reading,

Jenny x

 

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