Burning the midnight oil…

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Midnight – and rather later, in fact, because it was half past three in the morning when I added the last word to Draft 1 of ATP, Tom Walsingham’s second foray into espionage and sleuthing. Hooray!

And then it wasn’t really the last word, of course. You all know how it is: as soon as I’d saved the thing and done a back-up, I had to open it again and add one more little paragraph, and then a little later an idea occurred to me, and I jotted it down in the notebook, and by then I was wide awake anyway, far too excited to sleep, so I could have gone another hour without great difficulty – but the fact was, Draft 1 was finished, and it was well past four, so I went to bed, and found that I could sleep after all… Continue reading

And Draft 1

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Well, no – this is not to say that I have finished Draft 1… I’m about halfway through, though, and it is not an entirely bad place to be at this point.  Oh, I do have almost daily bouts of How Will I Ever Meet The Deadline, but it is a common disease, and actually I’m pretty much on schedule, so what does one do, except ignore the bouts and write on? Continue reading

The times, such as they are

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We write to a deadline, we drive to Town and back, we run around rehearsing the next play, we listen to the news, we bake sweets, we take the cat at the vet’s and discuss geopolitics in the waiting room, we watch from the window the first wood-pigeon drinking in the pond – back from wherever it is they go to winter – we hunt for that one missing prop, we listen to more news, we worry about friends over there – who live with their bags packed up in the hall, ready to run at a moment’s notice – and we wonder how all this will read in history books, a century or two from now. We write on, we muse on crumbling empires, we marvel at the flowers of an early spring, we go through rehearsing schedules on the phone, we shake our heads in disbelief at the TV set, we hire on for big translation jobs, we frankly have no idea what will happen next, we go on writing, and we just can’t help the thought: by the time the deadline comes, what will the world look like?

The sparkling of purposeful chaos

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I went to the Tiny Theatre yesterday, for rehearsals.

Not a terribly peculiar occurrence in itself, I’ll admit: we are opening a new play next week, and the plague has wrought havoc on my cast, so it’s been a carousel of understudies, and Nina is away, so I’m also rehearsing things for her, and, starting tomorrow, we have a one-week reprise of an old play… Continue reading

The Road to Murder – Cover reveal!

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And for the first time in nine years, I leave aside my beloved colour scheme of black, grey, red and white, because really, this one you must see in all its splendour… The lovely people at Sapere Books sent me my cover – the first cover for the Tom Walsingham Mysteries

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Names, names, names…

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Yesterday I spent a good deal of time perusing lists of names of Guild members in 16th century Bruges. It’s one of the many wonders of the Internet that you can find this sort of thing for the asking… and, as I said, I ended up spending a good chunk of the afternoon going through list after list, copying the promising ones in my notebook – one column for given names, one for family names – trying them out for size, and even involving a Dutch-speaking friend for a sense of how a few of them would be pronounced… Continue reading