Diary
This diary works the other way from most - newest entries are at the bottom. I have deleted many old entries, so it starts rather abruptly, as I make space for new entries by removing early ones.
Still lots of copies of SABINE BARING-GOULD; THE MAN WHO TOLD A THOUSAND STORIES in my back bedroom. Might have to drop the cover price a bit...Please think about buying a copy. It's very readable!!
28th August 2023
Preparing to leave for the San Diego Bouchercon this week. The moment I get back, I have my daughter's birthday and then a dash down to Okehampton in Devon (where I went to school) for a rather brief talk about Baring-Gould. The motivation, partly, is to arouse interest in the Baring-Gould Day in Tavistock - the 20th April 2024. I have a dozen bookings already for that and it promises to be a pretty impressive event. Fun, informative and affordable. I'm charging a maximum of £25, in cash on the day - reduced if a lot more people come along. Discount for couples. One of the people attending (an attender, not an attendee, by the way) is a keen campaigner for cash, which appeals greatly to me.
THE BORROWDALE BODY is finished and delivered, and the next months will be devoted to SYBIL SURVIVES which is the story of my parents' marriage. Not a happy business.
I am increasingly interested in the whole subject of forgotten authors. Obviously there are far too many, even since 1900, for anyone to read them all. And their work is preserved in the British Library and will be for centuries - but some deserve to be known now. For example, I have just finished 'The Hour and the Woman' by Constance Nicklin. No idea where I got it - a Methuen hardback from 1911. It's a compelling and original story. Can't find any mention of her online. Who was she??
The family holiday in Germany earlier this month went very well. Two weeks - the first with eight of us in a rented house in Xanten, then a road trip with grandson Luke. We got as far as Poland. Favourite place (and best hotel by miles) was Bochum. Luke got terribly bitten in Paderborn, we suspect by bedbugs. He reacted very badly and looked ghastly.
My watercolour painting has not been neglected, but my pictures are sadly pathetic. I had a table at the local art exhibition this weekend, which was embarrassing. Oh well - I still like doing it and can only improve - right?
14th September 2023
Back from America, where Bouchercon was friendly and efficient and very enjoyable. I met with friends old and new and was happily occupied for three days. Then my son and I drove across the far south, following the Mexico border, as far as San Antonio. We saw a lot of desert, visited numerous museums, got very hot and had a magical time. Everything went smoothly despite the early panic caused by the UK air traffic control chaos.
I12th November 2023
Where did October go? Much of it was devoted to visitors, and short trips - Yorkshire and France. I copied about 100 more family letters and tidied small areas of the garden - which isn't so much a garden as a piece of wilderness.
The talks are over for 2023, having done the one in Yate yesterday. This was a brilliant high spot of the year, with a big responsive audience and a lovely bunch of flowers at the end. The attention to detail, and sense of being valued and looked after, were unusually good. I had little idea of where Yate actually was - my satnav has died and google advised an alarmingly convoluted route. But the library lady calmly talked me through it. Looking back over the year, Stowmarket was also extremely good - others fell short somewhat.
Writing-wise, my efforts now turn to SYBIL SURVIVES and a new Lake District title scheduled for the end of next year. Probably entitled A LAKELAND CHRISTMAS MYSTERY. Have doodled a few ideas for it so far. And the Baring-Gould centenary celebrations next year.
23rd December 2023
My sitting room is festooned with Christmas cards - easily as many as in previous years, so reports of the demise of old-fashioned cards are greatly exaggerated. Many had letters inside, which is one of the great joys of the season. I've written a lot, too. I am still making new friends, even at my advanced age, several from America and Canada.
In November my dog and I went to stay at Lewtrenchard Manor for three days, while I did some strenuous networking to 'raise awareness' of the Baring-Gould events next year. I am involved in a week of talks, walks, competitions and exhibitions associated with the centenary of BG's death. A website has been created, listing evewrything that's going on. www.sbgcentenary.co.uk
The enthusiasm I found was very gratifying - and the hotel was a unique place to stay. BG reconstructed the house with such skill that many people assume it to be an authentic Elizabethan manor. It is nothing of the kind - he added wings, a ballroom, staircase, panelling, gallery, mostly taken from other houses that were being demolished. As a child we went there regularly, with all the big family celebrations taking place there.
I24th March 2024
Here we are with signs of spring, rather late and impossibly wet. It has rained for about four months, and the ground is horribly swampy. No fun for the poor sheep.
My Christmas story (title still under discussion) is now with the publisher, and SYBIL SURVIVES is coming along nicely. I am currently reliving the 1970s. On a recent trip to the Lakes, I opted for Dacre as the setting for the next story. A quiet little village surrounded by ancient country lanes, old trees - not a straight line to be found. And yet the A66 and the M6 are not far away.
The celebrations for Baring-Gould's centenary are coming close now. There has been a lot of enthusiasm for the various events. Entries for writing competitions were of very high standard - all judged now, with prizes being issued shortly. There is still space for my 'Day of Talks' on 20th April, in Tavistock. Please email me if you'd like to come. By a poignant stroke of timing, Lewtrenchard, the house that Sabine B-G created, is currently in limbo. It was a smart (and expensive) hotel, but the lease expired and nobody else has shown up to carry it on. It will rise again, perhaps in a whole new incarnation. It's too beautiful and atmospheric to waste.
An old friend, Sally, has died. We met at university in 1966 and she has left a big hole in my life. She wrote long letters to me over all those years, charting her whole life.
I haven't been away very much this year so far. A short break in Liverpool was most enjoyable, despite the Walker Art Gallery being closed. In compensation I found the new Catholic cathedral overwhelmingly beautiful.
Last week I treated myself to a day course on 'felting', thinking I might be able to use up some of the large quantity of fleece I have here - most of it from my own sheep, and several years old now. The day was run by Jane Evans of 'Fabulous Feltings' and it was a revelation. Everything in her house (almost) is handmade and felted. Cushion covers, wall hangings, rugs, scarves, flower holders, and more. It was a lovely day and I produced a rather fine picture and a pot, to demonstrate that three-dimensional objects are also possible. Mind you, the process takes a lot of patience, as well as space.
29th May 2024
A Lake District Christmas Murder is all finished now. There's even a cover already designed. It is due out in October, and I'm really quite pleased with it. Now I'm back with SYBIL SURVIVES which just keeps growing.
Not many travels this year, but I did enjoy a blissful three days in London this month. I had intended to spend much of it in the British Library, but their 'cyberattack' meant they couldn't access what I wanted (a weekly column my mother wrote in the 1960s). I met friends, wandered around and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
The family holiday this year will be near Bilbao. Twelve of us have to get ourselves there - which is not cheap or easy.
Still going to auctions and car boot sales obsessively. Small grand-daughter has decided that selling things in a field is enormous fun, although getting wet and not selling much last time did make her think twice.
17th August 2024
I'm really not keeping up my diary entries as well as I should. The writing has slowed down somewhat, too. But I am now well into THE DACRE DILEMMA with Simmy stumbling on yet another body while delivering perfectly innocent flowers. SYBIL SURVIVES goes to the printer next week, at last. I am very pleased with it, and profoundly glad to have preserved a great deal of my mother's activities and thoughts from the 1960s to the 80s.
The big family holiday in Spain was a huge success. It was a wonderful feeling to have almost all my descendants gathered together, all enjoying themselves, getting along so well. We played a great many games, ate marvellous meals, visited numerous places in the Basque country. The best beach I have ever spent a day on was the one at Zarautz. My two little grand-daughters and I spent hours jumping over big exciting waves. My car coped valiantly with the 2500 miles I made it do, mostly in very hot weather. With a dreadful lack of gratitude, I changed it two days ago for a newer one.
I am more and more in love with the wild acres I have here. Every year a different plant dominates - this year it's common bird'sfoot trefoil, which is everywhere, and a pleasing thing it is. There's also a lot of ragwort, which has to be the most vivid yellow of them all. The brambles have had the right weather, and the new stems grow almost visibly, trying to leapfrog all across the fields. The blackberries are late up here, but extremely prodigious. My blackcurrants were equally lavish. I am contemplating setting up a remote camera, so I have some idea of exactly what creatures are living out there. The barn owl has been less obvious lately, but it's still around somewhere.
I hope to finish the Dacre story by early November. Another one is pressing to get itself written, which would be a 'standalone'. We'll see if it ever gets done. I have plenty of ideas for the future...
30th September 2024
At last I have copies of SYBIL SURVIVES here, and have started sending them out to friends and relations who express interest. It's self-published and the printing cost a small fortune, but it's very much a 'vanity' project in that respect. I just want to preserve the facts, and I hope it also makes a good story. Farm life in the 1970s was very different from now in many ways. Not everyone will like it, I'm sure.
My publisher tells me that sales are 'slowing down' which is a scary thing to hear. A LAKE DISTRICT CHRISTMAS MURDER is now published. I can't help feeling the title sabotages it somewhat, but the cover picture is great. And I am really pleased with the story, so I hope it will boost my sales. I am over halfway through THE DACRE DILEMMA, which I hope will be accepted. I also hope it won't be the end of the Lake District series, but I guess that depends on the enthusiasm of my readers. A recent visit to a bookshop in Cockermouth was reassuring - they said I sell well there.
Winter isn't far off now. As of this morning I have a lovely pile of logs, thanks to a man with a chainsaw cutting up the dead branches from some of my trees. Nothing like a cheerful log fire to warm everything up.
The latest forgotten author to reach the top of my TBR pile is Vivian Connell. 'The Chinese Room' 1945. Mystery, suspense and sex! A very contemporary feel to it, in the prose style. Really good.
23rd October 2024
I am in the final stages of THE DACRE DILEMMA now. Dacre is a small village, very close to the A66, with a romantic and mysterious churchyard. Willie Whitelaw is buried there, for good measure. There's a pub (of course) and nearby is a Georgian mansion with close associations with marmalade. Honestly!
Joffe Books proudly inform me that they are giving away ebook copies of my first novel A DIRTY DEATH. They seem to think I should be pleased about that. Whether or not there's a causal relationship, I have to say that since Joffe started reissuing my early titles as ebooks, sales of everything else have slowed down noticeably. I feared that would happen.
Last week I was in Devon, meeting people not seen for some time, and exploring Launceston. I knew it vaguely in the 1960s but didn't recognise anything. It's a strange town, perched on vertiginous hillsides with very confusing levels. Driving around it is not recommended. and yet I took my driving test there. That must be why I've never feared hill starts.
I have an outline for a standalone that I plan to write over this winter. SHAME'S ECHO is the working title. Meanwhile SYBIL SURVIVES is reported to be an easy read. Perhaps a bit near the knuckle for some relatives, but I'm glad to have it finished and it is, I hope, the best format for my mother's story.
A LAKE DISTRICT CHRISTMAS MURDER is out now, and so far people say they like it. A few say it's the best book I've written. I certainly had a good time writing it.
21st November 2024
The snow came early this winter. The mountain at the end of my garden looks lovely. I learned today that THE DACRE DILEMMA is scheduled for 'Spring 2025', which is great news. It's good to be with a publisher that leaves only a short gap between my delivering the freshly-written typescript and actual publication. Most take well over twice as long, which I would find deeply frustrating.
I'm finding my way into SHAME'S ECHO but it is a cautious process so far. It is based very much on my own memories of farm life in the 1960s, which means I have almost too much material.
SYBIL SURVIVES is still going around the world to friends and relations. The boxes of books in the spare room are definitely going down...
I am very committed to opposing the Assisted Dying Bill. It seems blatantly obvious to me that it can only diminish the value of life, sow fear in the hearts of millions of people, and redefine what it means to be a doctor. There are too many self-deceiving ways that families, medics and society in general can justify killing anyone who appears to be miserable and suffering - for their own good. The idea that anybody can predict exactly what six months of 'terminal' illness will actually be like is obviously misguided. Yes, there is pain, and dependency and lack of dignity, but an early death risks losing a great deal of good things as well. And the biggest loss for everybody would be trust. Promises would be broken and rules changed. I really think it matters terribly.
I could go on, but I won't.
20th December 2024
My cousin Sheila has urged me to give more attention to this diary, so here we are again. I went against the trend and sent even more Christmas cards this year than ever. I made them myself and put hand-written letters inside a lot of them. I've been rewarded by receiving reciprocal cards and news from people I haven't seen for years. Still a number to go, I hope. The process of writing SYBIL SURVIVES has led to renewed contact with distant relatives - or even first ever contact with one or two - which is a joy. I have sent the book to a lot of people now, and feedback is gratifying.
I've hardly done any writing this month, being distracted by Christmas, I suppose. As a result I get very restless and faintly guilty. There are still hundreds of family letters to be copied, though, and I've been wallowing in the memories generated by them. I also send snippets to people mentioned in them, now and then. My long-ago friendships with other writers become increasingly interesting, too, as time goes by. Celia Fremlin, for example, and Marcelle Bernstein. I saw a lot of them both, over the years.
It's the season for booking next year's travel. So far I've got some days in London organised, and am on the verge of booking another trip to Texas. Already fixed is a week in Switzerland with my old friend Liz.
Still going to auctions. The last one yielded a lot of original (some might say bonkers) Christmas presents. I have a bad habit of bidding for lots that I haven't actually looked at properly. As a result I have about 30 very nice pillowcases. All different colours and materials. There were twice as many, but I found homes for several or them, one way and another. A shop must have closed down - or something. Wondering where the items come from is part of the fun. And it all feeds into Christopher Henderson's work in the Lake District books.
So, Sheila, thanks for the nudge. Happy Christmas, and all good things for 2025.
9th February 2025
A fairly uneventful winter so far, with depressingly grey weather and my log shed almost empty. The snowdrops are wonderful - such a vivid patch of white in the dull browns and faded greens all around. I see them from my bedroom window when I first wake up. Daffodils are showing promise - hundreds of them all around my acres.
Writing is going slowly, but SHAME'S ECHO is about a third of the way through and I feel good about it. THE DACRE DILEMMA is in production now and THE ESKDALE EPISODE does at least have a title and a first paragraph.
My diary gets a lot more eventful from this week. Trips to London, Texas, Switlzerland and even possibly Australia are being (or have been) planned. Plus Eskdale, of course. Nostalgic visits to Devon need to be included, too. The people in the farmhouse I lived in in the 1960s have been in touch and are interested in my reminiscences about the place.
I've embarked on a series of pottery classes, as well as Art Club, accompanied by the usual gatherings of ladies about my age (quite a few younger, actually) determined to keep up their interests as well as learning new skills. The potters are much more talkative than the painters.
Ambitious plans for Easter - there could be 10 people and 3 dogs here for my regular Egg Hunt and roast lamb on the patio. Not sure lambs come large enough to cope. Pity it's so difficult to find good old-fashioned mutton.
16th March 2025
Not a lot of writing progress to report. I can't tear myself away from the family memoir work. Last month I spent a day and a half at the British Library copying weekly articles written by my mother in the 1960s. Cumulatively (it amounts to something like 150,000 words) it paints a remarkably vivid picture of farm life in those times. Quite medieval in some ways. Seldom happy or relaxed. It's making me rethink my childhood rather drastically. We were certainly very stoical in the face of extreme adversity at times.
But the next Lake District book is moving to top priority position from the end of this month. THE ESKDALE EPISODE is the title, and I'm off there for the annual 'research' after Easter. There'll be more rugged outdoor scenes than usual, I expect. THE DACRE DILEMMA is due out in June.
The cold winter has meant I can now see the floor of my woodshed, and need to embark on some serious logging in order to replenish it. Burning one's own wood is also quite medieval, I suppose, and intensely satisfying. More efficient than any other form of heating I've ever used. Doesn't cost anything and gets the room beautifully warm in no time.
The daffodils are almost at their peak now, although there are a lot that still haven't opened up. I need to make a plan of the garden and mark the places where more spring bulbs would be good. By September I will have forgotten what's where. One area is now inhabited by several bird sculptures - heron, owls, storks, geese, and others, all made of a variety of materials and great fun. I bought a job lot at the local auction.
Off travelling again shortly, hoping to visit some small unknown towns in East Texas, and get chatting to the locals.