Cover Reveal!

So this week I commence the final proofread of my new novel. It feels like a lifetime since I started writing it but in reality has only been about a year or so. Therefore, publication is imminent and it’s about time I showed you the cover and title, also the back cover blurb, to whet your appetites.

Well, the new novel is called…

Drum roll…

BEASTIE

It’s a fab and funny Joe Wilkie adventure that fans of the little chap are going to love. Once again he finds himself up to his neck in it but Joe being Joe, he faces it with his usual optimistic outlook on life.

But before the cover reveal, lets have a read of the back cover blurb.

Here it is:

Blummin’ ‘eck, it’s all kicking off again for Joe Wilkie. There’s something sinister lurking in Blessham Woods and it’s got the whole village in an uproar. And by uproar, I mean they can’t make money out of it fast enough. As for poor old Joe, he’s never been so scared in his whole life.

Join Joe in his fifth adventure, where he has problems with an old legend, holy water, teenage vandals, ants in his pants, a broken window, buckshot, a hospital visit, the police (again) and hordes of rampaging townies. Not to mention the responsibility of being a Godfather; all whilst trying to avoid being mauled by the dreaded Beastie!

Will Joe escape being savaged? Will Lady Stark-Raven’s aim (and temper) improve? And what about the pretty new stable girl that’s caught Joe’s eye – Paige Turner?

All will be revealed in…

BEASTIE!

Ok, how does that grab you?

Right then, here’s the cover:

You’ve got to admit that it’s the best cover yet of any of my books and it was rendered by our fabulous granddaughter – Erin.

Beastie will be available to buy very soon for £2.99 for the Kindle download version and £9.99 for the paperback version.

Watch this space.

Language Barrier

I don’t half make life complicated for myself at times. I’ve just given myself a mammoth task thanks to the ongoing development of Joe Wilkie.

I’ll explain.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed (you may not but I certainly have) that Joe Wilkie’s vocabulary has been progressively changing over the course of the 4 novels he features in so far and even more so in his fifth outing that I hope to release soon. I know he’s always had that sort of countryside twang that lies somewhere between Dorset, Norfolk and Yorkshire and that’s the main reason that I’ve never revealed the geographical location of Blessham. Only I know which county of England it is set in.

But I have become acutely aware of just how much his vocabulary has altered since his first introduction in Ah Boy! The changes have been fairly subtle but I’m now seeing them myself as large as life and if you were to read all 5 novels in one non-stop sitting you would notice it very quickly I think. You’d probably need a stiff drink as well.

Here’s the thing though, in the novel I’m working on I’ve just about got Joe where I want him regarding the peculiarities of his speech. We know that he’s a slow learner and has always stumbled around complex words, although I never intended him to be mocked for that but seen as a have-a-go-hero instead. In the new novel though I’ve expanded his vocabulary to be even more disjointed, if that makes sense.

For example:

In Ah Boy! Joe would use the word ‘before’ whereas now it has morphed in to ‘afore.’ Similarly, where he once would have said ‘them’ he now says ‘they’ or ‘they’s’ a lot more. There are loads more examples but I’d rather you read the books yourself and see how Joe has evolved over the series.

Which brings me to the mammoth task I mentioned at the start.

Do I now go back and revise all the other Blessham Books to keep Joe’s vocabulary uniform throughout the series? And believe me that is a mammoth task, albeit an easy one from a time perspective because I’m independently published and therefore can do as I jolly well please with Joe or any of my characters. Let me tell you I’m giving it a lot of due consideration. It’s a project that could take maybe six months or more to complete but I feel that in the name of continuity it needs doing.

Talking of giving myself a bigger workload, I’ve started a Blessham database using Microsoft Access. Oh, how I wish I had done this sooner. I’ve got a database for all the characters, one for locations – buildings, towns and villages, one for Joe’s own descriptors e.g. ‘hoppy-onion’ for opinion, and one for future characters that I’m hoping to introduce or just to have in reserve.

Once the database is complete I’ll be able to iron out a few little foibles with the books that have been niggling away at me. The main one being continuity with names. For example, I have used the name Perton several times but with three different surnames – Ardbuns, Shayply and (most recently) Curvey. Now, Perton is not a common name and it would be highly unlikely to find 3 individuals with that name in a medium sized English village and the fact of the matter is that all the Pertons in the books are one and the same person (or one and the same Perton – see what I did there?) And I have come to the decision that Perton Curvey works best, ergo I now have to edit all other references to his name in the other novels to make that all important continuity work.

Like all genuine novelists, I want my work to be authentic and believable, even though it is fictional, and having the same character with three different surnames or the main character constantly changing the way he speaks is an issue that I need to address.

Nearer and Nearer

It’s coming, bear with me, it’s definitely getting nearer and nearer. So close I can almost feel it. No, not Christmas, I mean my next novel.

So, here’s how the land lies. I’ve finished the second read through and edit and am now plunged well into the third. There’ll be a fourth and then a final spelling and grammar check and one last proofread but then it shall be ready to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world. Ok, a bit dramatic perhaps, but I felt like that because there is a lot of suspenseful drama in this one alongside all the calamitous comedy escapades that Joe Wilkie has become synonymous with over the last few years.

I’ve mentioned before that the fabulous cover is finished, thanks to my wonderful granddaughter, Erin, so really it’s just a case of getting the text done and dusted and we’re good to go.

As for the drama that I mentioned, I think it wouldn’t be fair of me to whet your whistle like that without going into just a teensy bit more detail. This is Joe’s horror story and also, perhaps, something of a detective fiction as well. It’s not supernatural horror; I don’t do that kind of stuff; it’s a farcical, knockabout comedy horror – think Carry on Screaming or What a Carve Up! and you’ll be in the right ballpark.

During the second edit I often found myself having to stop reading due to being incapacitated by uncontrollable laughter. I think some of the scenes and dialogue in this one are amongst the very best that I’ve written for Joe yet. I know that self-praise is no recommendation but if the writer finds it arse-clenchingly funny then that can’t be a bad thing, can it? I figure that if it makes me laugh then hopefully it will make you laugh too.

All your favourite characters are present in this one including Lady Stark-Raven (and her erstwhile staff) who finds herself embroiled in the thrill of the chase. There are local ne’er-do-wells and perhaps the strangest antagonist Joe has ever had to face.

The police are involved and the whole village is financially on the make. Sex sells they say, but then again, so does horror and the Blesshamites take full advantage of the situation. There’s a couple of new female additions to the village one of which has Joe going “gaa gaa, goo goo” whenever he sees her and another female that just sends him completely ga-ga whenever he sees her! Intriguing, isn’t it?

Joe is in deep in this one, in many ways, but, thanks to his ever-optimistic outlook and his wonderfully refreshing naivety, he wins the day (of course he does).

So that’s what I’ve been up to since the last blog post two weeks ago. I’ve reached that stage that all writers reach where you just want it finished and out there to be read. And I sincerely hope this one will be widely read and possibly give my novels the shot in the arm (or kick up the arse) that they need. If it rekindles interest in my work then it will be a job well done. And as far as plot lines go I think there’s only The Pheasants Revolt that comes close to this one.

I do believe in this little book. I’ve really poured my heart and soul into it and I hope that will show in the end product. It’s been a long time coming and I’m looking forward to that wonderful feeling of receiving the email that says, “Congratulations, your book is published.”

I’ll post further updates as and when.

Last Roll of the Dice

It grieves me to have to write something so depressing at this time of year when the rest of the world is pissing it up and celebrating an imaginary old guy with a white beard and natty red suit when they should be remembering the birth of Christ. But Hey Ho, that’s the way humanity rolls these days.

I’ll cut quickly to the chase.

My 8^th novel is completed, well, first draft anyway. The problem is that I am tired and in pain and feeling utterly dejected as a writer. I made the classic mistake, when I first self-published of thinking that my work would sell in great numbers; how foolish and naïve I was.

Let me tell you the God’s honest truth – If anyone ever tells you it’s easy being a writer or an author they are clearly lying and they themselves are neither of those things. It’s a bloody hard slog to write a 90,000+ word book, a harder one to edit and perfect it and an even harder one still to try and sell the damn thing. And I just don’t have the wherewithal to carry on banging my head against the wall for no return.

So, here’s the deal.

Over the next couple of months, I’m going to finish editing and preparing that 8^th one for publication. It’s a cracking story and the cover, as I’ve mentioned before, is unfeasibly fantastic. I’ll then do my best to promote it for six months and if I still find myself in the situation where I am now, vis-à-vis not selling any books, then I’m knocking it all on the head. I can’t kid myself any longer and I don’t have the physical capability to do so either.

This book is the last roll of the dice.

Sorry to be such a killjoy at Christmas but I’m on my last legs here.

I Want to Shout it from the Rooftops!!!

Just a quick blog post today. I had a minor hospital procedure yesterday and I still feel a bit sluggish from the sedative (Fentanyl) so please forgive the shortness of this post.

But here we go!

I’ve never hidden the fact that my granddaughter, Erin, is utterly fabulous. You may think it’s an obvious thing for a grandad to say and you’d be right of course. But today she has once again showed her fabulousness, and how.

You may recall me saying that I’d asked Erin to create the cover art for the next novel as she is the most accomplished teenage artist you ever came across. Well, today she presented me with the artwork and I am completely bowled over by it.

I knew she’d do a great job but it’s even better than I could have ever hoped for. It is without doubt the best cover of one of my books yet. I’m not just blowing smoke when I say that; I believe it from my heart.

I feel as if I want to show it to everyone and shout from the rooftops (as the title of this post suggests) about how brilliant it is and honestly, you’d be the same. But to reveal it now would spoil the surprise. I haven’t quite finished the first draft yet and I don’t like giving too much away too soon.

But take it from me it is utterly wonderful and you’re going to love it. It’s a bit of a departure from the usual Blessham covers and I’m giving serious thought to asking Erin if she will help me redesign them all, with the exception of The Pheasants Revolt, which Erin’s mum created and which I love. But the others could certainly do with looking at from a fresh perspective and I don’t think there is anyone else but Erin who I would give the task to.

Erin gets me you see. We have always had such a laugh together and I consider her to be not only my granddaughter but also one of my very best friends. I always knew she had talent as she was always doodling away at an early age. One of my proudest possessions is a scribbly but lovingly done drawing in biro on a sheet of pink paper that she presented to me on my birthday when she was only five years old. Yes, I still have it and would never part with it.

Since those early forays into drawing she has progressed into a gifted illustrator and is now employed as a tattoo artist. That’s a job that takes a lot of skill and even more bottle to do. I’ve said before that I’d never have a tattoo but that if I ever change my mind then Erin gets the job without a qualm.

I gave Erin only the briefest outline of what I wanted for this book cover and she has produced something that any self-respecting author would be proud to have on the front of one of their tomes.

Damn it I wish I could show you it. But the time just isn’t right yet.

The Ingleby Problem

I’ve been scratching my head for some time now as to what to do about Ingleby, the fictitious town where 3 of my novels are based. Those novels, of course, being:

The Ghost of Lenton Wattingham

Mutch Wants Moor

Vole

If you haven’t read them yet then I would urge you to do so at the earliest possible convenience. They’re all full of dark humour and are thumping good reads that take an introspective look at the seedier side of life.

So why have I been scratching my head?

In short, I think the Ingleby novels have run out of steam. Or is it me that’s run out of steam for the Ingleby novels? May I beg a few moments of your time whilst I elaborate? Thank you.

When I independently published my first novel – Ah Boy! – in 2019 I had already got the plan for a full series of books starring the central character, Joe Wilkie. But at the time, I didn’t want to pigeonhole myself and just write in one particular style and felt it best to branch out into other literary worlds. That’s when the idea for Ingleby came about.

I saw my writing career going as thus – A Blessham/Joe Wilkie novel followed by an Ingleby novel and repeat the cycle.

The thing is, as time has progressed and with my development as a writer, I’m just not “feeling” the Ingleby thing anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as proud as a peacock with those three books and many people have told me how they think Mutch Wants Moor is the best book I’ve written to date and I’m somewhat inclined to agree.

However, I had begun work on another Ingleby novel over two years ago. It was the follow up to Mutch Wants Moor featuring the adorable Archie and Aggie Stone and their canal boat Orca. I had actually got 15 chapters into it and for some reason, which I can’t fully explain, I just stalled. Came to an abrupt halt. I didn’t know where to go with it. I’d driven it down a literary cul-de-sac and couldn’t turn around.

Here’s what I think happened.

Over the last 6 years of being an independent author, I’ve come to realise that Joe Wilkie and the village of Blessham is where I’m happiest writing about. I think Joe has really developed into such a well-rounded character and those stories are so much fun to write. To be honest with you, I wasn’t having very much fun with that abandoned Ingleby novel.

I’m firmly entrenched in that particular camp that says if you don’t enjoy writing then you shouldn’t really be doing it in the first place. And I wasn’t enjoying writing that one. It just didn’t have the same flair, pace and joie de vivre that its predecessor had and I was finding it hard to recapture all that.

Henceforth, I shelved it and turned my focus back onto Blessham. Note the word “shelved” in that sentence; I’m a firm believer in the phrase “Never say never.” It may come to fruition at some point in the future. But for now, it remains unfinished.

I’m now a mere 4 chapters from finishing the first draft of the new Blessham novel and I am having a mountain of fun in doing so. I swear I haven’t enjoyed writing this much since The Pheasants Revolt, back in 2020/21. My imagination is running more riotous than a large group of poll tax protesters and ideas are just tumbling out of me like last nights kebab. I’m having a blast.

Also, and I’m sorry if this sounds like bragging, but I’ve been gifted a new computer by my amazing and generous in-laws the Morgan Family. It’s an absolute beast of a machine which was formerly used for gaming so you can probably guess how powerful and fast it is. I love my old laptop and it served me well for 11 years but it’s starting to show it’s age a little (like all of us) and running rather slow and I think it’s time to retire the old girl.

This new machine though is so fast and efficient that I can write around 1300 words an hour or more. Something I couldn’t do on Propane Elaine (my laptop’s name, don’t ask).

So, here’s where I’m now at. The Ingleby novels will henceforth become the Ingleby Trilogy until such times as I return to them in the dim and distant future. I’m going to focus the bulk of my attention on getting some more Wilkie books written so that there is a lengthy series for readers to immerse themselves in and I desperately need to be so much more proactive and creative with the marketing of my books as well. I don’t invest anywhere near enough time in doing that.

And I think my books are well worth promoting.

I also have a couple of other irons in the fire, one of which is an anthology of my non-novel scribblings from this blog and Substack etc and there’s a new character I’ve been playing about with in my head which I’m slowly developing for when I eventually do need to take a break from Blessham, which is bound to happen at some point.

So sincere apologies if you prefer my Ingleby books. Like I said, I most likely will return to that townful of reprobates at some point in the future, but for my own career’s sake I need to focus on Mr Wilkie and Co for now.

September

Yes, it is a strange title for a blog post written in October. The thing is, there were no Blessham Hall blog posts at all in the ninth month of the year and here we are, a quarter of the way through the tenth. Call me Slacker!

Actually, I’ve not been that slack since the last post on August 28^th. I’ve worked on the next novel, getting it up to 12 chapters (or two thirds if you prefer) and its looking pretty good.

But for another thing, I took two weeks holiday in Ireland from September 15th to 29^th and if that sounds like slacking off then you’re wrong. I’m a great one for believing in investing in yourself and that’s what I did over there in the Emerald Isle.

You know the old phrase – “Feeling recharged?” Well I well and truly am. I was literally like a flat battery and Ireland was the charger. It’s done me an absolute power of good. My mind is much calmer, my outlook more philosophical, my body less achy and my imagination fired up. It was a great time of personal refreshing, based in the delightful West Cork coastal countryside with the gal I love.

I’ve put on a few pounds in weight but who doesn’t on holiday; unless they go to one of those hideous health spas. You couldn’t pay me to try one of those things. I can cover myself in mud, eat salad and abstain from alcohol at home so why pay for the pleasure?

And I can get an enema from the NHS.

But 5 pounds weight gain is a small price to pay for how that holiday has affected me. I wouldn’t go as far as to say something as crass as I feel like a new man but I’m certainly in a considerably better state than before I left.

I didn’t actually switch the old laptop on until this Monday, a full week after we returned. I used that time to unwind some more and just enjoy being at home here at Blessham Hall. I think that week was just as mentally restorative as the previous fortnight. Since Monday I’ve been writing for all I’m worth with zero self-criticism/loathing and no doubts about my direction as a writer/author.

I’ve been focussing on catching up with Substack this week but from Monday next it’s back to the novel with a vengeance as I shall be spending some of the weekend having a quick refresh read-through before plunging back into it. I feel rather excited at the prospect. And I’m not usually the excitable type.

I’ve got my granddaughter – Erin – signed up to design the cover for the novel as she has turned into the most accomplished tattoo artist you ever saw and her drawing is… what’s the word now…

Special! That’s it. Truly special. I’ve never seen a nineteen-year-old with that level of artistic skill and talent.

“Ah!” I hear you say, “You’re bound to say that being a proud grandad.” To which I would say, “Good point, well made.” But in this instance it’s much more than just grandfatherly benevolence. Just wait until you see the cover. I’ve always swore blind all my life that I’d never have a tattoo but if I ever change my mind then Erin gets the job.

So things are rather good here at BH and long may that continue. I need to pace myself better so that I don’t end up a burnt-out wreck again, but if that does happen then I know where to find relief.

And a damn good pint of Guinness.

It’s Been a While

Like the title says, it’s been a while. Quite a long while actually, between blog posts that is. The last one was on the 15^th of July. A shocking 5 weeks ago. So a blog post is well overdue, and here it is.

I’m not going to make any grovelling apologies, I’ve stopped doing that, we’re all busy these days so why should I beg for forgiveness? It’s my blog after all. Life often has a subtle knack of getting in the way of things.

So what has happened since last we convened on the Blessham Hall Blog?

Plenty.

I’d better let you know from the off that I have a hospital procedure on the horizon as I’ve been having a little internal trouble for some time now. Is it serious? Don’t know yet but fingers crossed it isn’t. Yes, I am a tad worried but what will be will be. Que sera sera, as they say Austria. Or is it Belgium? I can never remember.

So that’s looming large and is occupying my mind a great deal.

You’ll be pleased, though, to discover that the first draft of the next Blessham novel is now over half way written. Obviously I’m not going to give too much away but I want you to know that I haven’t had this much fun writing a novel since The Pheasants Revolt, which is my very favourite of all my books. I have to stop writing very often to allow myself some titter-time. If the author can laugh at his own work then it’s a good sign, I think.

Joe is slightly out of his depth at the part where I am in the writing process and the poor little chap is in a somewhat fearful state of mind. Incidentally, talking about Joe, I was in conversation with someone who is currently reading Ah Boy! and she described the character of Joe as ‘adorable.’ That made me very happy.

Anyway, work progresses. But I’m not setting any time constraints on myself for the following reason:

I’ve been abominably ill these last few weeks.

It’s true and whilst I’ve not been shy about documenting my health struggles on this here blog things have been pretty grim lately. Apart from my hospital issue the fibromyalgia has been an utter bastard to the point where even walking around Blessham Hall becomes a tearful effort. Good days, bad days and all that but I’m getting so pissed off with it.

I’m also seeing a mental health professional again for the first time in a good long while. I’m not losing my marbles but I am still struggling with the passing of my Mum earlier this year and there are several other external pressures affecting me and it’s left me in a bit of a vulnerable condition.

Thankfully, I’m married to the most wonderful human being and she is as supportive as they come. I reckon I’d be lost without her. I know I would.

I also suffered an insect attack a few weeks ago and was bitten a good many times on my legs and ankles. Now, mozzy bites are nothing new to me, I get them every year, but these were something else. They all went purple in colour to the point where it looked like I was covered in Ribena stains. Horribly painful but the most shocking part was that I honestly believe that some of them were spider bites, which is quite horrific when you think about it.

But, by slathering hydrocortisone cream all over myself and ingesting antihistamines by the handful I have, mercifully, seen a huge reduction in the discomfort and swelling brought on by those multi-legged gits. It’s not been a fun time I can tell you.

On to happier things though.

Substack for example.

I have my first paid subscriber and I am elated. That someone believes in my work to the point of wanting to pay me for doing it is one of the best compliments I ever had. I’ve never claimed, personally, to be a good (or even average) writer and there have been a few unkind folks who have pointed this out and derided my output, but now I feel a sense of affirmation that I must be either improving in my craft or at least in some way entertaining. And I can’t ask for more than that really.

I am one of those authors who reads other people’s work and then say to myself, “I wish I could write like that.” But then again, I’m not Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams or Tom Sharpe or anyone else. I’m Alan Stevenson and I write bawdy slapstick comedies and, yeah, I’m content with that. So I’ll just say “nuts” to the naysayers. Come and tell me how bad I am when you’ve written seven full length novels yourself.

Also, while we’re talking about Substack, I have been pretty consistent with my output there. Tuesday and Thursday are my Substack days and there’s some pretty decent literary fayre on there for everyone to enjoy. I’ve been on that platform for a year and a half now and there are over 140 posts to read including poems, short stories, essays and a serialised novel. Go take a look HERE.

What else has happened?

Well, for one thing, Ange and I have realised we aren’t getting any younger and have started to make the most of the rest of our lives as best we can. That means having day trips, small holidays and some serious quality time together. We had a run over to Heysham in the car earlier this month and it was gorgeous. Ok, yes, I struggled to walk and was in tremendous pain but I was also in the company of the woman I love and I was as happy as a lark for a day. We ended the day with sausage and chips on Morecambe sea front. Ok, so it wasn’t a Michelin starred restaurant overlooking the bay of Naples but to us it was truly delightful.

Other than all of that life goes on. Some days I write and some days I don’t. I did, for a few weeks, go through quite a dark patch where I considered throwing the towel in but then I got that paid subscriber and suddenly things became a lot brighter.

I’ll endeavour to leave a shorter gap between blogs posts next time but please do understand that life gets in the way sometimes and we all have our limitations.

See you soon x

Re-Appraisal

I’m disappointed gentle reader, disappointed to say the very least. I find myself floundering somewhat at the moment. Things just aren’t going my way right now.

Substack, as much as I love it, is pissing me right off. I see so many contributors on there with hundreds of followers and subscribers just for basically posting fluff and nonsense whilst I have the princely total of 22 subscribers. And I’m not blowing my own trumpet but I think I produce some pretty good copy that’s worth reading.

For example, I wrote a 3500-word humorous murder mystery short story over the weekend for my 22 subscribers, called Death by Bunting. It took hours to do and it’s a clever little thing too. Compare my humble effort with the average Substack post, which goes something along the lines of – Hi, I’m Samantha. I like Taylor Swift, Tik Tok and writing poetry although I haven’t posted any yet. If you like my page I’ll like yours too. Let’s all get to know each other.

Honestly, some of them are quite literally as vacuous and as lacking in substance as that and then you look at their stats and they’ve got something like 1.3k subscribers and the post itself has 538 likes.

If that sounds like I’m jealous you’d be completely wrong. I’m not jealous, I’m bloody furious!!! I’ve written almost 100 well-worded, and, at times lengthy, posts so far and the biggest audience I ever garnered was about 90 views for my first short story called Jessie.

Nobody wants to put any effort in any more, whether it be writing or reading. Everyone just wants instant gratification through having a vast multitude of friends and followers on every internet platform they use. It’s doing my head in, it really is.

And I keep getting emails by the dozen from other Substack authors offering to tell me how I can get more subscribers and then when I open the missive there’s just more fluff and little or no substance. I’m heartily sick of it.

So, I’ve decided that the only way for me to reach more subscribers and get people to read my stuff is to sit down one day and go through Substack’s tools and options with a fine-tooth comb and learn as much about it as I can. How hard can it be???

So that’s Substack.

Then there’s the whole novel writing thing…

Honestly, it’s a slog right now. It’s like pulling teeth trying to make a sale on any of my books and when I do make a sale it’s even harder trying to get a review out of people. And yes, I am acutely aware that I’m working in a crowded market place and people are very busy these days and don’t always have time or they have other things on their minds than to write me a review. I get that. But then I see other indies and they’re getting reviews left, right and centre.

AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!

And, I hasten to add, due to feeling extremely despondent about it I haven’t even attempted novel writing for about a year now. I made a good start on the next Ingleby book, featuring the adorable Archie and Aggie Stone, and then I just seemed to tail off. All I seem to do at the moment is Substack and this here blog.

Ergo…

…It’s time for a full re-appraisal of everything I’m doing. I don’t want to quit. I’m one of the “Winners never quit and quitters never win” brigade and have always had a good work ethic so there has to be another way. But I do know when I’m banging my head against a brick wall and it feels rather like that at the moment. Something has to change.

My head is absolutely buzzing with all sorts of exciting ideas right now, inspiration isn’t the problem, the problem is this – I’m a really good writer (I am) but I’m piss poor at marketing, promoting and selling my products. I’m far too reticent for one thing. Whenever anyone buys one of my books I feel I should just timidly give it away instead. And that’s not a great place to be.

I’m also getting a bit pissed with Amazon, through whom all my books are published. They take a huge (and I mean HUGE) mark up on your books leaving you with very little and they have pulled the rug out from under many a self-published author that I know by talking their books off sale without either warning or reason. I don’t trust them anymore.

And, might I just add, that the only way anyone is going to find Medicine Show on there is if they go directly to my Author Page as it doesn’t show up in the search results for Alan Stevenson. The other six are there on full public display but not my most recent one and that irks me like a splinter in the bum. I’ve never had a splinter in the bum to be perfectly honest but I have had plenty of them in other body parts (mainly hands) and so I can imagine how irksome one in the bum would be.

I am now seriously considering other outlets for my books.

And so, it truly is time for a big re-appraisal of everything that I do. I’m giving serious thought to a social media hiatus for a month or even longer to help me focus on things as my physical health is so bad that at times I spend far too long scrolling through rubbish instead of being productive. I think I’m going to get some decent voice recording technology downloaded to my phone so I can dictate to it on those occasions when I simply have to rest. I will keep putting up my Substack and blog posts on Facebook, Instagram and Threads but I need to step away from idly scrolling on them and damn well concentrate on infinitely more important things for a while.

To tell you the truth, I think I’m going to shelve the Ingleby novel I’d started and work on the next Joe Wilkie/Blessham one instead. I’ve got such a great plot and story for that one and am rather excited at the prospect of writing it. I believe it may well invigorate me as an artist somewhat, and that’s exactly what I need.

So watch this space. I’m not chucking the towel in; I’m just having a massive re-think.

Death By Teapot – The Answer

Ok, so a few months ago I wrote my first ever comedy murder mystery story and it was well received actually. I was chuffed with it at any rate. But what I didn’t reveal in the story was the identity of the culprit. I mentioned that the police arrested the wrong person but left it for you, the reader, to work out who really bludgeoned Mrs Baggley to death with a heavy earthenware teapot.

So here is the answer to the mystery…

If you recall, the bulk of the story took place at the PCC meeting in the church. There were five people at the meeting – the vicar, Mrs Baggley herself, Mrs Windebank, Mrs Wenlock and Mrs Dunwoody.

Well, barring the deceased (it wasn’t suicide: one does not commit suicide by bashing one’s own head in with a teapot) that leaves four people who all had a motive.

The Vicar – Mrs Baggley had threatened to report the vicar to the bishop over things that were said at the meeting.
Mrs Windebank had a motive after Mrs Baggley bluntly insulted her French ancestry.
Mrs Wenlock was accused by Mrs Baggley of being a sex maniac; not something that a PCC member would want bandied about.
Mrs Dunwoody’s mother was exposed as a drunk by Mrs Baggley. She was most upset about this.

There are other factors to consider as well.

Mrs Baggley was killed by a violent blow to the head from a heavy earthenware teapot. During the meeting Mrs Windebank had spoken of such a teapot as the ideal replacement for the current one and had passionately exclaimed that she would “buy the bloody thing myself.”
Mrs Dunwoody and Mrs Wenlock both expressed their dislike for Mrs Baggley. Mrs Wenlock said she would “swing for her myself” and Mrs Dunwoody went as far as saying she wished Mrs Baggley were dead.
The vicar had said he would reimburse Mrs Windebank himself for the teapot. Could it have been that he did so the night before the murder and taken the pot with him?

So what do you think? Have you worked out which of them committed this dastardly deed?

Which of the four was responsible for Mrs Baggley’s untimely demise?

…

Well actually none of them were.

…

If you recall there was a sixth person in the church at the time – Eric the organist.

Think back now:

Eric was a devoted follower of not just the church but the vicar also and was prepared to do anything for the good of both.
He’d recently had a new hearing aid, which whilst not helping his organ playing any, did mean that he overhead every part of the PCC conversation and Mrs Baggley’s threat to the vicar.
He also heard Mrs Windebank mention the earthenware teapot and her impassioned declaration of buying it.
When the vicar left the church, Eric was playing the hymn Nearer My God To Thee. A clear portent of what was about to befall Mrs Baggley who was soon to be a lot nearer to God.
Finally, Eric was known as a kind and gentle individual. Who would suspect him of doing it?

So there you have it.

Eric the organist finished his practice session in the church, he then went into town, purchased an earthenware teapot, hid in the bushes in the churchyard on Sunday morning and when Mrs Baggley went to unlock the church he crept up behind her and brained her with the pot thus speeding up her entry into the next world.

Did you get it right? Did the detective in you suss out that it was Eric? If not, who did you suspect and why?

…

I’m currently working on another comedy murder mystery short story where you will have another chance to play Sherlock Holmes or Miss Marple.

Watch this space.