An early bird reads the Worm

In my last post I told you that I had – with some misgivings – passed my draft of “Worm in the Blossom” to my husband.  He was under strict instructions to Be Honest, but of course his primary concern is not book sales but marital harmony.  (Well, his bicycles really come first, then England’s performance in the rugby World Cup, but then marital harmony.  Book sales are a long way down the list.)  That said, he has done sterling work and handed back a manuscript with some excellent comments and the eagle-eyed spotting of a few typos.  (He also questioned my spelling of “exhilarated”, but that’s all resolved.)

So what did he think?  Well, since Roy (the beta reader) said that he thought “Worm” was a bit plodding and lacking in suspense, I had tried to ginger it up a bit – sometimes just splitting a chapter so that the first half ended on an uncertainty was enough.  But I did do bigger things too, and Paul (husband) said he thought this new version “rollicked” along (he’s an engineer – and can’t even spell exhilarated).  He even said that he thought the ending was perhaps too shocking, so I’m going to look at that again – he thinks maybe a neatening epilogue might help.  But it is a HUGE relief to know that he liked it.  My big question to him was: “Is this third volume going to harm or help the earlier ones?”, and he was of the view that the characterisation is improving all the time, and the plot itself is gripping, so that will do.  Next steps: final edits on Saturday, formatting on Sunday, cover template to cover designer on Monday, holiday on Tuesday.

As I promised myself I would be honest in this blog, I should say that I have been having something of a Plank-ish wobble.  Ages ago I decided that there would be a series of seven Plank novels, and indeed I have decided the plot topic for each of them.  But this third one has been quite a stressful experience, and at times I have wondered about the wisdom of committing to four more years like this.  I love writing the books, but I should not lose sight of the fact that I am trying to make a commercial success of it – not a Rowling success, of course, but still, enough sales to not have to feel embarrassed when people ask.  And in the past month I have sold precisely two copies each of “Fatal Forgery” and “The Man in the Canary Waistcoat” – and perhaps one or two in the bookshops.  So altogether my authorly earnings this month are probably about a tenner.  It’s honestly not about the money – but the money is how we measure whether people are recommending the books to friends, or picking up the books, reading the blurbs and liking them enough to buy them, or reading the Amazon samples and wanting to know more.  And perhaps Plank just isn’t there.  But I’m a stubborn sort, and now that I’ve said there will be seven books, seven books there will be.

Big edits for the Worm

Now I know you’ve all been agog to hear about progress with what it now referred to in our house as “the Worm”.  Well, I won’t lie: it’s been a difficult week.  On Monday I had comments back from my beta reader, and they were terrifically helpful – but they were also quite alarming.  Most of them were relatively easy to address, but a couple of them literally (and I mean literally) gave me a sleepless night.  My beta reader was of the view that the draft was (a) rather plodding, and (b) lacking in suspense.  (The two are of course related.)

My beta reader also reads this blog, so Roy, I don’t want you to feel bad about this – after all, a good and above all honest beta reader is worth his weight in gold and exactly what I want.  But it was upsetting – and I don’t want other readers of this blog to think that writing is always fun, and that somehow I am immune to the horrors and loss of confidence that visit every writer from time to time.  So I had an evening of worry and too much chocolate, and a night of tossing and turning, trying to think of how to suspend Sam, and then decided that I just had to get on with it.

And so it was BIG rewrites for the rest of the week, along with reordering of chapters to create more suspense.  I killed off one character and resuscitated another, and (this is a vast improvement, I think) worked much harder to create the links between all the parts of the plot.  And the result is, I think, I hope, better.  But now that I have read it all so many times, I have completely lost any sense of whether it is exciting and/or suspenseful – after all, nothing is at all surprising to me any more.  So for the first time I am giving a pre-publication version to my husband to read.  It’s risky, I know (if he doesn’t like it, he may be on iron rations into the next century), but I really do need someone fresh to say whether it’s a right rollicking read or a bit of a snore.  Now I have to turn my attention back to the day job to earn a crust and so he has a week to read it: my next appointment with the Worm is (I hope) final edits next Saturday and then formatting next Sunday, so that I can get a final page count and create the template that the cover designer needs.  Pass those chocolates – I need a refill.

A Topping evening for Sam

I know, I know: I’ve been very quiet.  But the truth is that I’m not doing anything Plank-ish until I hear back from my beta reader.  I have had a couple of thoughts about “Worm in the Blossom” but I have simply noted them on a scrap of paper and put them in the drawer with my hidden-away Macbook.  It would go against the principles of version control if I were to start making changes now; I’m just having to be disciplined and Zen and patient.

But I do have a bit of news for you: Sam, Martha and I are going to Ely, to speak at Toppings.  For those of you unfortunate enough not to live within reach of this marvellous independent bookshop, just take a look at the pictures on their website.  It is the most marvellous, enveloping sort of place – three floors of books and nooks, and they don’t mind at all if you plonk yourself down and start reading.  In fact, they encourage it, by coming round to offer drinks.  They also have an enviable programme of author events, and on 26 October 2015 I am joining the roster.  (I’m in very elevated company: they’re hosting Brian Blessed the week before and Mary Beard a month later.)  They have asked for a talk that is half about the books and half about self-publishing, which suits me perfectly, and I’m very excited.  Of course, it will also serve as something of a launch event for “Worm in the Blossom” – I’ve not had a launch event before, and Martha has already declared that she needs a new hat for it.

Beta out than in

I am quite breathless with the excitement!  Since Friday, fuelled perhaps by that view of King’s and a slice of Battenburg, I have written and edited like a demon.  Then I added dates to all of my chapters.  I did this in the first book (“Fatal Forgery”) without really thinking about the implications, but because it made (and still makes) sense for a constable’s notes to be dated.  What it does mean, however, is that when I reach the end of the writing, I have to work out how time passes between chapters – is this the next day, or weeks later, or even flashback?  (Actually, that’s a red herring: Sam Plank, being a man of great practicality, lives in the moment and does not do flashback.)

Next I had to think of names for each chapter.  Again, I did this in the first book and so now I have to keep to it – but it’s not really a chore because I enjoy looking for a slightly quirky little phrase to sum up each chapter.  So this time round we have, for instance, chapters entitled “Bruises and confessions” and “A ferret in the Compter”.  (No, I will not elaborate: you’ll just have to buy it in October.)

And once that was done, I had to admit that I had a completed beta draft, ready for sending to my greatly trusted and hugely respected beta reader.  You see how nice I am to him?  So – scary moment this – off it went about thirty minutes ago.  Nothing to be done now until I hear from him.  (Big tip: once you’ve handed a draft to someone else, don’t be tempted to fiddle around with your own copy, otherwise you’ll create enormous confusion.  Just. Leave. It. Alone.)  How am I celebrating?  Well, I went for a walk in the sunshine, and I’m going to have fish and chips for dinner.