In the run-up to Valentine’s Day, I wanted to do two things.  I wanted to take a moment to think about some of the great romances of history … and I wanted – shamelessly, perhaps – to suggest that a copy of The Courtesan’s Lover might make a much more individual Valentine’s day present than a box of chocolates or a bunch of roses.  (Of course, you could always combine them … reading the book whilst eating a load of chocolates and smelling the lovely roses – and quaffing champagne, perhaps – might really put someone in the mood for romance …  )

So – a quick look at some of the more memorable romances of history …

The Brownings – Robert and Elizabeth.
(Of course I had to include the Brownings – look what Robert’s poetry has done for me! )

This was a lifelong love between two great writers, which was kindled at the start … by poetry.  Robert  Browning wrote what to all intents and purposes was a fan letter to Elizabeth Barrett in

January 1845.  He had read her book of poems and was both in awe and in love.  ‘I love your verses with all my heart, dear Miss Barrett,’ he wrote.  Browning at the time was a little known but wildly ambitious writer of 32, while the invalid Miss Barrett, seven years his senior, was already an internationally respected poet.

What followed must be one of the most passionate and devoted literary correspondences ever – they wrote each other nearly SIX HUNDRED letters over the following twenty months.  This correspondence lasted right up until the night before they left for a trip to Italy, a fortnight after a secret marriage.

The marriage had been shrouded in secrecy because of the appalling Mr Barrett, Elizabeth’s father.  For years, the invalid Elizabeth had lived with this tyrannical and domineering man, who had, bizarrely, forbidden any of his children to marry.  After the couple’s first meeting, it took time for sickly, isolated Elizabeth fully to trust Robert’s passionate declarations of affection, but over several months (always in her father’s absence, of course) their relationship blossomed, and Elizabeth’s frail health began to improve.

The couple fled England (and Elizabeth’s father) and settled in Italy immediately after their marriage, where they lived happily for fifteen years until Elizabeth died in Robert’s arms in 1861.  During their married life together they produced both a son (another Robert, known as Pen) and many successful and beautiful poems.  Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet ‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways’ – read at probably more weddings than any other poem – is an exquisite declaration of love for her then husband-to-be.

Anthony and Cleopatra

A very different sort of love affair now – one which flourished amidst violent political intrigue and civil war.  Cleopatra is famously linked to several men, of course, but her final romantic alliance

was with Roman general Mark Anthony.  This was no easy relationship – it resulted in both their deaths, and brought an end to the centuries-old Ptolemeic dynasty to which Cleopatra had belonged, but its very passion and intensity has ensured it its place in history.

Just as had happened with Julius Caesar, years before, once Queen Cleopatra VII of Egypt set her sights on Mark Anthony, the outcome was pretty well inevitable.  Well known for her extraordinary powers of seduction – she planned the best way to ensnare Anthony carefully and lavishly.  She arrived to meet him for the first time on a vast river barge, dressed as Venus, the Roman Goddess of Love.  In the face of such determination, Anthony didn’t stand a chance!

He followed her back to Alexandria, vowing to protect both Egypt and his new-found love.  Things seemed not to last, though – Anthony left for Rome some months later, leaving Cleopatra pregnant with his twin sons.  Filled with as much political ambition as Cleopatra herself, Anthony had decided to return to Rome to ensure that the powerful Roman triumvirate remained strong and effective – to this end he married the half-sister of another member of the triumvirate, Octavian (later the Emperor Augustus).  Anthony’s love for Cleopatra remained undimmed, though, and several years later, he returned to Egypt to be with her.  Declaring her son by Julius Caesar to be his heir, and awarding land to each of the twin boys he had fathered on her, Anthony’s political machinations resulted in a furious war of propaganda with Octavian, who declared that Anthony was entirely under Cleopatra’s rule and influence.

Full-blown war was eventually declared by Octavian upon Anthony and Cleopatra – and the pair were soundly defeated.  As the battle died down, Cleopatra took refuge in the mausoleum she had had built for herself, and Anthony, wrongly believing her dead, stabbed himself with his sword.  Cleopatra was distraught, and, along with two (unfortunate) female servants, shut herself into her chamber and took her own life, probably with the help of a poisonous snake.

At her request, she was buried alongside Anthony.

Botticelli and Simonetta Vespucci

Another request for burial alongside the beloved.  This was a totally unrequited love, though, which, if true, is almost unbearably romantic!

Sandro Botticelli, the great Renaissance painter, never married, and in fact often said that the thought of marriage even gave him nightmares!  This might have been because there is a possibility that he was homosexual – though this has never been formally documented – but the most likely reason seems to be that he spent much of his live in unrequited devotion to a young married noblewoman, by the name of Simonetta Vespucci.  Simonetta was the darling of the Renaissance – she was impossibly young and unbelievably beautiful.  She was the model for Botticelli’s ‘The Birth of Venus’ and many other paintings.

Simonetta Vespucci died in 1476 at the tragic age of 22 – most probably from pulmonary tuberculosis.  Botticelli was, so it is said, heartbroken.  He remained devoted to her for the rest of his life, she inspired many more of his paintings, and he made a special request to be buried at her feet when he died.  This wish was carried out some 34 years later, when the painter finally died in 1510 – he was indeed buried at Simonetta’s feet in the Vespucci parish church of Ognissanti.

I do hope I’ve put you in the mood for a romantic read!  The Courtesan’s Lover is available to buy from Amazon and Waterstones – and you might still be able to catch it in Sainsburys.   You can read the first chapter of the book here.

I am wondering if I’ve lost my marbles.  Completely.  I’ve just reviewed a clutch of books read and loved during 2011, written by people I know.  And I forgot one of my utter favourites!  How could I have?  This book haunted me for weeks!!

THE HUNGER TRACE: (Simon and Schuster 2011)   Edward Hogan’s book utterly blew me away.  Set in a Derbyshire village, it explores how the  sudden death of David Bryant, the  owner of a rambling Derbyshire wildlife park affects his young widow Maggie, his old friend Louisa (a falconer who lives on the grounds) and Christopher, David’s eccentric teenage son.   They are complex and fascinating characters, unbelievably beautifully drawn, and compassionately depicted.

In some ways, this book is rather like the birds of prey which feature in it – it’s spare, hard, tough, impressive and fundamentally beautiful. Hogan’s prose is deceptively simple – he makes first class writing look easy. His powers of observation are astonishing and engaging, and his characters are complex, three dimensional and never predictable. I think, in fact, this is some of the most impressive writing I’ve come across in years – here’s one tiny quote to give you a taste of the brilliance.   ”The walls of the gritstone gorge rose high above Detton Village.  In the soft light, the cliff-face looked tooth-marked and bruised, like half a discarded apple.”

A wonderful, exquisitely crafted book – I loved it.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE – here’s to a healthy, happy, successful 2012 for all of us. xx

I said recently that one of the good things about bringing out a second novel has been having a whole community of fellow writers supporting me and encouraging me along the way:  a community of people I just didn’t know, first time round.  Support and encouragement are definitely wonderful benefits … but the other, even more wonderful, benefit of having a community of fellow writers is that … they write books!  And I love to read books!  And there is something just so excellent about buying and reading a book by someone you know.  

So I thought I’d take a moment as 2011 draws to a close, and tell you a wee bit some of the books I’ve read over the year, books written by my writer friends. (Yeah, OK, I’m a bit biased about them, but my comments will be honest, I promise!) 

HURRY UP AND WAIT:  Isabel Ashdown brought out her second novel in 2011 – Hurry Up and Wait  (Myriad Editions 2011).  It’s more than twenty years since Sarah Ribbons last set foot inside her old high school, a crumbling Victorian-built comprehensive on the south coast of England. Now, as she prepares for her school reunion, 39-year-old Sarah has to face up to the truth of what really happened back in the summer of 1986.  

This is a sensitively told story of adolescence – Isabel Ashdown portrays the uncertainties and anxieties of teenage with great empathy and understanding and narrates the horrible situation in which Sarah unwittingly tangles herself with unflinching honesty and no prurience.  Ashdown is a master of understatement, in many ways.  It’s hard to catch her being as great as she is – if that makes sense.   (http://isabelashdown.com)/ 

FLORENCE AND GILES:  (Blue Door 2011)  I’m not sure how to write about this book without waxing sycophantic!  It is definitely one of the most stunning things I’ve read in years.  John Harding has created a narrator with an entirely unique ‘voice’ – a voice which sort of haunts you while you are reading the book, and stays with you long after you finish.  Set in New England in the 19^th century, it is, if you like, a homage to Henry James’s ‘The Turn of the Screw’, though this quirky, idiosyncratic Gothic thriller is a genuine original. It is gripping, chilling, utterly engaging, and truly, genuinely scary. 

Florence, the narrator, has an extraordinary way with words – denied a proper education, her oddly-used vocabulary is drawn from the books she reads obsessively in secret. The oddity of her narrative ‘voice’ lends edginess to the story and adds to the unsettling atmosphere.  I absolutely loved this book – as Florence might have put it … while I was reading it, my house remained unbroomed, I was book-in-handing for several days, utterly stunned by Harding’s brilliant wordsmithery.   http://www.john-harding.co.uk

THE MISTRESS’S REVENGE:  Tamar Cohen’s debut novel appeared this year (Doubleday 2011).  This is a story about a discarded mistress, who simply – and literally – cannot believe that she has been abandoned by the man she loves.  Sally’s response to her predicament is disturbing and unsettling, and Tamar Cohen charts the progress of Sally’s increasingly disconnected hold on reality with a sharp, darkly funny and compelling narrative.  

Anyone who has suffered through unrequited love will recognize the emotions portrayed here – even if they might perhaps cringe at the extraordinary ways in which Sally responds to her predicament. One scene in particular had me squirming, almost in tears at the extent to which Sally had forgotten what she owed to her own family from the depth of the pain she was feeling.  I loved this book!  (http://www.curtisbrown.co.uk/tamar-cohen) 

BLOODMINING:  (Bridge House 2011)  This was one of my surprise likes of the year – only because I normally shy well away from any sort of dystopian, futuristic stories, usually finding them hard to believe in, and impossible to engage with.  But I’d heard wonderful things about Laura Wilkinson’s debut novel, and, having been at the launch, I was keen to have a go.  And as it turned out, I was blown away by the book.  It’s brilliant!  It plays out in two time-zones (one scarily close to the present, one a couple of decades on) 

‘Bloodmining’ explores the ethics of assisted conception. It also presents presents us with the possible catastrophic fallout from our current selfish, consumer-driven society. The post-disaster world of the book is much calmer and less driven than our present world, and it offers, surprisingly, despite the appalling tragedy of 2015, some elements which could be seen as being preferable to the world we all know now. Wilkinson’s characters are beautifully drawn, multi-layered and genuinely engaging. She portrays them with tenderness, though without sentiment, allowing their relationships to develop in complex and compelling detail. I loved the book, and can’t wait for Laura Wilkinson’s next novel.  http://laura-wilkinson.co.uk 

INTO THE DARKEST CORNER:  (Myriad Editions 2011)  Elizabeth Haynes’s debut thriller was an edge-of-the-seat read for me.  Her story  of one woman’s battle with OCD and the terrors that lie in her past (the causes of the condition) is gripping and un-put-downable.  Told in two time-zones, Catherine’s story unfolds in two separate strands.  In the present, she appears to be obsessional, irrational, anxious and unable to live a normal life – what happens in the other strand of the story, set several years before, gradually explains why.  There are two men in her life – one who is truly dangerous and the other someone with whom I quickly fell in love as I read!   This is tense, edgy, sometimes genuinely frightening stuff – and Elizabeth’s meteoric rise to the top of the Amazon charts proves the book’s worth.  Looking forward to the next one, Elizabeth!  (www.elizabeth-haynes.com)

MASKS OF THE MORYONS: (Collca 2011)  Just to prove that I don’t ONLY read fiction (nearly, but not quite), I’ve just (last week) read Trish Nicholson’s wonderful e-book, describing her experience of the extraordinaryMoryonan, the re-enactment of the Legend of Longinus in the spectacular weeklong Easter pageant, which is held only in the wonderfully named town of Mogpog, on the Philippine island of Marinduque. This legend has been re-enacted in Mogpog in celebration of Holy Week for almost 150 years. Trish describes the event in vivid first person present narration, making you feel as if you are there on the spot in her company.  The photos are lavish (taken by Trish herself, I think) and she chronicles the various rituals day by day, their history, and how these cultural traditions have survived.  The fact that this celebration takes place only a matter of miles from where the devastating flash floods have just decimated the population of a nearby island makes this a particularly poignant piece to read. (http://trishnicholsonswordsinthetreehouse.com)

And now, last but not least, are a couple of  wonderful books I actually read at the end of 2010, but I thought you wouldn’t mind if I sneaked them into my 2011 list  because you need to see them … 

THE DEVIL’S MUSIC:   (Bloomsbury 2009).  Jane Rusbridge’s debut novel is exquisite.  It is 1958 and the Sputnik satellite has taken a dog up into space; back on earth, five-year-old Andy has a new sister, Elaine – a baby who, his father insists, is ‘not quite all there’. While his parents argue over whether or not to send Elaine away, Andy sleeps beside her cot each night, keeping guard and watching as his mother – once an ambitious, energetic nurse – twists away into her private, suffocating sadness.

Told in three narrative strands, as intricately interwoven as any of the knots Andy learns to tie, this is a beautifully told story of family secrets, fractured relationships, impossible choices and the way memories can be distorted and misunderstood.

I loved this – and now can’t wait for Jane’s new book ‘Rook’ which is due out next Spring  http://www.janerusbridge.co.uk/the-devils-music

WITHOUT ALICE: (Punked Books 2010)  D J Kirkby tells the story of Stephen – a man with a secret.  This is a secret so fundamental he fears it will tear him apart.  Outwardly, he seems to have the perfect set up:  a good job, a loving wife and a son he adores.  But in the end, despite appearances, this all means nothing to him – without Alice.   D J Kirkby depicts her central character Stephen with honesty - he is not an easy man to like at the start of the book - in fact I didn’t like him at all!  But, because of Kirkby’s  careful and tender story telling, though, you come to understand and sympathise with Stephen’s predicament, even if you can’t quite manage to condone how he has behaved; DJ Kirkby so obviously has an empathetic and wise understanding of the human condition.  It’s a terrific story.

www.djkirkby.co.uk

 So – there you are.  Some of my favourite reads of this past year, written by people I’m SO proud to know!  What were YOUR favourite books of this year?

Love ‘em or hate ‘em, it’s just one of those things that you do, isn’t it, when a new book comes out?   Book signings, that is.  I’m not sure what I think of them, but I’ve just done my fair share – three consecutive Saturdays, since the publication of ‘The Courtesan’s Lover’, at different Waterstones stores –  and I thought I’d share a few random thoughts about the experience.

I imagine it’s a very different thing if you’re a Number One Bestseller:  you’d just sit there, pen in hand, smile in place, and scribble away at flyleaf after flyleaf, making people’s days as you write your hugely famous name in the front of their just-purchased copy of your new tome.  You might get a touch of RSI in the signing hand, and a tired face from smiling too much, but other than that, it would be a doddle, I reckon. 

For us lesser mortals, it’s a different matter.  You need to engage the public.  Ninety five percent (or more) of the potential buyers in that store that morning have never heard of you.  You need to focus them in your direction and (gently) persuade them that they might really be interested in picking up a copy of your book.  How do to this without seeming either pathetic or pushy is (to me, at any rate) something of a challenge. 

Has anyone out there any brilliant ruses that they use successfully at signings?  I’ll share below things I’ve been doing, but I bet masses of you have FAR better ways of selling successfully than I have! 

Here’s one thing:  a Society of Authors article ages ago suggested a piece of advice for which I’ve been grateful ever since:  have something with you that you can hand out to people as a freebie.  Book marks, pens, postcards, etc.  It’s SO much easier to go up to someone and say ‘Could I give you a free bookmark?’ than just to say ‘would you like to hear about my new book?’  Everyone likes to be given something for nothing – and something like a postcard or a bookmark is cheap to produce and easy to hand out. 

 I had a brainwave the other week – ‘The Courtesan’s Lover’ had just been reviewed in Italia Magazine, and I printed out the review, along with a photo of the jacket image, and took a pile of these along with me to the signing.  Then, when I doled out my free bookmarks, I could also say ‘and this is what Italia magazine thought of the book …’  At least a dozen people nodded vaguely and went off with the review, but came back later and said they’d decided to buy, on the strength of it.  My little ruse worked! 

Smiling and being friendly works, too.  In fact, one of the things I enjoy most about signings is the conversations I have with the people I meet.   Yesterday, I had a lovely chat with a lady who said she was planning to buy a copy of His Last Duchess for her daughter, who was about to travel half way around the world to meet the new love of her life.  She recounted a tale of such heart-rending romance that it brought tears to her eyes – and mine –  and we were almost at the point of hugging by the time I signed her copy.   Bless her!

 Another brilliant forty-something couple the other week had me in fits of laughter.  I was recounting the story of the writing of my two books, and at the point at which I told them that ‘in the course of writing the first story, I gave my duke a mistress’, the husband chimed up, (with the deadpan delivery of Jack Dee) ‘Hmm  – I wish someone would give ME a mistress’!   His wife immediately said in a loud voice, which carried right across Waterstones, ‘Hear that, people?  Bloke here wants a mistress.  Anyone interested?  Anyone brave enough to take him on?’ (It was clearly all in jest, and they obviously have the most brilliant relationship, I hastily point out here!)  I took the husband’s arm at this point and whispered ‘I think you seriously need to read my books …’  and he (still deadpan) agreed.  He bought both. 

A lovely old lady listened carefully to my descriptions of my first book, nodding sagely and drinking in every word.  Looking good for a sale, I was thinking to myself as I chattered on.  As I came to the end of my spiel, the old lady nodded and said, ‘Oh yes, that DOES sound interesting.  Just my sort of thing.  I’ll definitely get that … out of the library.’ (At this point I nearly resorted to that Twitter favourite, the *facepalm*) 

I spoke with a sculptor yesterday, who is going to keep me posted about her exhibitions.  I chatted with a lovely family, whose little girl writes poetry – she’s going to send me her poems for me to have a look at.  And I chatted with a bloke who gave me the most brilliant idea for a new signing venue – I’ll tell you what it is, when I’ve investigated its feasibility. 

They are funny experiences, I reckon, book signings.  In every sense of the word.  They can be hilarious, when you get chatting with genuinely amusing people.  They can be humbling, when you get to talk with people who have amazing stories to tell – and it’s surprising just how often people seem to open up and tell you the most extraordinary things! –  and they can be exhausting, when you don’t sell as well as you would like to. 

I’d love to hear your tales of signings.  Tell me about your experiences if you’re a writer trying to sell your books, or a reader getting your book signed.  Have you met authors who either lived up to, or entirely scuppered your preconceptions of them?  Brilliant ideas, funny stories, embarrassing moments – do share!   I’ll read them all and give a copy of ‘The Courtesan’s Lover’ to the story I enjoy the most!

Well, It’s officially the publication day for ‘The Courtesan’s Lover’ - my second book is now on sale, and my naughty courtesan has finally gone public!  I keep having a nice warm feeling about it all, as I sit here at my desk!   I had a lovely launch party last Friday at the Waterstones store in Chichester.  It was such a happy occasion;  friends and family and my lovely publishers were all there, sharing the moment with me, and it was all just exactly what I wanted it to be. 

Today, however - the official launch day – is much more prosaic!  I took the car to be MOTd (It passed!  Hurrah!), I walked the dog, and I’m now back at my desk, editing the Work In Progress. 

Publication feels very different this time round – mainly because I now have a wonderful network of writerly friends, met through Twitter and Facebook, and through author events;  they’ve all been so lovely and supportive in the lead-up to today.  It makes such a difference to feel part of a community – we all look out for each other, and publicise each other’s work, and commiserate when things don’t go according to plan etc etc.  It’s great -  I wouldn’t be without any of you and you all know who you are!!

One of this community of writers is my lovely friend DJ Kirkby – author of ‘Without Alice’ and the new Writer in Residence for the Portsmouth Libraries. She has a brilliant project on the go at the moment – she’s offering a Kindle as a giveaway!   Here’s how you can try to win it – check out DJ’s website for details.  http://djkirkby.co.uk/2011/11/kindle-giveaway-mini-competition-number-8/

Good luck with that – and for any aspiring writers reading this … hold on to your belief in your work, and keep at it, because it DOES happen, and it’s so very well worth waiting and fighting for.  I’m going back to the Work In Progress now, because, sure as eggs is eggs, there won’t be another publication day if I don’t finish writing another book!

It’s a month today until ‘The Courtesan’s Lover’ is published – I thought I’d share a few thoughts about how the novel came about.

When you’re writing a novel, your characters do have this habit of filling up your head-space.  You find yourself thinking about them, talking to yourself  about them (or to anyone else who will listen), trying out snatches of dialogue with them when alone in the car (well I do – this is possibly just me, though!)  quite as much as writing about them.  You get to know them as well, or possibly better, than members of your family – after all, as their author, you have privileged access to the inside of their heads in a way that you’ll never ever have with real people.

I found this to be the case right the way through the writing of my first book, ‘His Last Duchess’ and I absolutely loved it –  but the odd thing was, that as soon as I knew I had finished that story, that constant communication with my characters died down, almost straight away.  I knew as much as I wanted to know about them.  I was happy with where I had left them all at the end of the novel, and I really didn’t need to know any more about them.  I was ready to say goodbye to them.

But I had reckoned without Francesca Felizzi. 

At this point, I hadn’t planned a second novel at all, let alone one about her, but I just couldn’t get her out of my head.   She just kept on and on intruding, interrupting, elbowing her way to the front of my thoughts, and demanding to be given more space to exist.  It dawned on me pretty quickly that I was going to have to listen to her, and to give her a narrative of her own.

Francesca first appears as a secondary character in ‘His Last Duchess’.  She is the paid mistress of the eponymous duke;  she’s a feisty, resourceful woman, which she certainly needs to be.  The duke is a damaged and difficult man, and coping with so volatile and dangerous a lover takes a great deal of energy – which is exactly what Francesca possesses.  Spotted by the duke and rescued by him from life as a street-whore in Ferrara, she spends the best part of eight years as his paid mistress, and learns much about survival and self-preservation along the way.  Francesca is beautiful and sexy and clever and fundamentally adaptable, and she uses all these attributes shamelessly, both in ‘His Last Duchess’ and ‘The Courtesan’s Lover’.

I was really happy at the idea of writing a new book all about Francesca.   It took time to discover what she was going to be doing in the course of this new story in which she was going to play the starring role, though.   I knew this much from the outset:  she was going to be fighting hard to become a courtesan – a cortigiana onesta - and she was going to be doing this in Naples, alongside coping with all the problems that come with being a single mother in a precarious world.    In his book ‘On Becoming a Novelist’, John Gardner says that ‘setting exists so that the character has some place to stand, something that can help define him.’     I had to stand Francesca somewhere, and it had to be somewhere new, away from the setting of the previous novel.  The Naples of the sixteenth century, unwillingly under Spanish rule, was a chaotic, anarchic, ebullient melting-pot of a city- a perfect place in which to allow my complex, confused courtesan to tackle her problems.  

As you can imagine, I read and read and read about the great courtesans of history – Veronica Franco, Ninon de l’Enclos, Harriette Wilson and Cora Pearl amongst others  – and I was simply blown away by the courage and independence of these extraordinary women, who basically functioned in society as autonomous, successful businesswomen in centuries in which their more virtuous sisters had little or no freedom, either financially, socially or sexually.

I was anxious not to allow myself to be too caught up in the romantic exuberance of the great courtesans, though, and wanted to be certain that the potential danger and degradation of Francesca’s situation would not be overlooked as I began to tell her story.  Life as a courtesan was never easy, for even the most successful.  Penury, danger and disease lay in wait around every corner and many of them – even the most well known and successful – ended their lives in anonymous poverty.  As Renaissance Venetian courtesan, Veronica Franco says, (in a quote I decided to include at the beginning of my book) “It is too miserable, and contrary to human reason, to force your body and energy into such slavery:  terrifying even to think about.”  She goes into graphic detail about the terrors that await the unwary courtesan – not least of which was the ever-present fear of going to hell.    Then, to bring myself still further back down to earth, I read a number of accounts written by modern, contemporary sex-workers:   lap dancers, street walkers, strippers, masseuses, escorts.  These were frank, honest, vulgar,  frightening, touching, funny, heartbreaking descriptions of a way of life most of us can’t actually even contemplate.  It was sobering and shocking and moving, and it provided the contrast I needed. 

I felt I understood Francesca better, for having heard in such detail from her modern counterparts.  I hope, if any of them read the book, they will feel I’ve understood them. 

Like so many novels, The Courtesan’s Lover took time to grow – many things happened between that initial decision to tell Francesca’s story, and the book’s completion.  I’ll tell you all about its journey next time.

Join Chichester Book Club authors Isabel Ashdown,   Jane Rusbridge and me for readings and conversation over afternoon tea at The Beach House in beautiful West Wittering.

Date: November 3rd

Time: 4pm

Place:   The Beach House, Rookwood Road, West Wittering, Chichester, West Sussex PO20 8LT Tel: 01243 514800 email: info@beachhse.co.uk
Cream teas: £4.75 for tea for one, 2 scones, clotted cream and jam Cakes: £2.95.

BUY THE BOOKS from The Beach House in advance and on the day at the special event price of £5.

About the authors:

Isabel Ashdown’s debut novel Glasshopper was twice named in the press as one of the best books of 2009. Her second novel, Hurry Up and Wait, was published by Myriad in June 2011. Isabel grew up in East Wittering, and the Sussex Coast continues to be an important influence in much of her writing. Her prize-winning entry to the Mail on Sunday Novel Competition was described by judges Fay Weldon and John Mortimer as ‘magnificent’ (Glasshopper, 2009).
Gabrielle Kimm’s debut novel, His Last Duchess, was published by Little, Brown in 2010 and long-listed for the RNA Novel of the Year. Her second novel, The Courtesan’s Lover, shortlisted for the Impress Prize, is released in November 2011. Gabrielle lives and works in Sussex.  As well as her writing, she is also an English teacher, and has taught in a number of local schools.

His Last Duchess (Sphere) is ‘ full of fascinating period detail and simmering with tension’ – Lancashire Evening Post.

Jane Rusbridge is published by Bloomsbury. Her first novel, The Devil’s Music, was nominated for the 2011 International IMPAC Literary Award. Her second, Rook, is set in Bosham and published in August 2012. The Rusbridge family has farmed in the local area for generations and Jane gains much of her inspiration for setting and atmosphere from the Wittering seascapes.

The debate rumbles on:   are creative writing courses worth it?   Is ‘creative writing’ in fact something that can ever be ‘taught’?  Are the available courses worth the money?    I have to admit to having very strong personal opinions on the issue, having done an  MA course a few years ago – read on to find out more.

Even the most cursory flick through a Googled list of sites on the subject throws up a wide variety of opinion – Guardian journalist,  Matthew Wright quotes Blake Morrison in a 2007 article(http://tinyurl.com/3p3kpgn) suggesting that writers embarking on these courses are seeking ‘the kind of editorial help they no longer hope to get from publishing houses’ (that may be the case for some people, but for myself, I’d have to disagree, as my experience with my own publisher, Sphere, has been one of exemplary editorial input).  In the same article, Wright quotes writing course director Clare Morgan as saying  that ‘the romantic notion of the single artist struggling … in a garret has been eroded“, being replaced by “the increasing acceptability of the notion of writing as a craft, the skills of which one can develop through apprenticeship’.   Yeah – I like that idea.   Charlotte Higgins, however, in an article from 2008 describes ‘the celebrated novelist, screenwriter and playwright Hanif Kureishi’ as launching a ‘ withering attack on university creative writing courses, calling them “the new mental hospitals“’. (??)   Oxford-based author Emma Lee-Potter’s excellent recent post (http://tinyurl.com/3t5fkdu) explores the subject.  She quotes creative writing tutor Richard Francis as saying ‘You may not be able to teach people to write, but you can take people who are capable of writing and provide them with the space and structure within which they have to write’  This expresses it nicely – though speaking personally, I think there is more to it even than that.

I did my MA course at the University of Chichester between 2005 and 2007.  At this point I was already fiercely ambitious for my writing,  I had completed the first draft of HIS LAST DUCHESS, and had written a fair bit of what would eventually become THE COURTESAN’S LOVER, though hadn’t yet submitted anything to agents or publishers.   I was writing in every available minute (even if, as a working teacher and mother of two, there weren’t nearly enough of those  …), but  I was also seriously struggling with guilt, at the amount of time and energy I was devoting to what to other people was still tantamount to a hobby.

Doing the MA changed all that.

The Chichester University MA course is run by Stephanie Norgate, an inspirational poet and playwright, who is both a wonderful teacher and a fierce champion of all the students on her course.  She has no doubts about the practical benefits of doing a Creative Writing MA.  She says, ‘Over the fifteen years of running the MA in Creative Writing at Chichester with an outstanding team of tutors who are all practising writers, I have been delighted to see an increase in the number of our students who publish.’   Just have a look at the list of Chichester student successes (I feel very proud to be one of them) – it speaks for itself.  (http://tinyurl.com/442k6uh)

Stephanie works alongside a staff of equally inspirational practising writers – poets, playwrights, short fiction writers and novelists.  (http://tinyurl.com/3kfomjc)   It’s not just that these writers help students to improve their skills, (which they undoubtedly do, consistently) it’s also that ,as Stephanie explains,  they understand ‘the mysterious side of writing, that strange opening of the unconscious where the writer almost becomes a channel for the work. That side of things is difficult to teach but, as Stanislavsky says, a state of preparedness aids the mysterious processes.’  And ‘that side of things’ is perhaps the most difficult to access if you are working alone, writing with no guidance.  I suppose it’s not impossible, but being with other writers, other people who understand, other people who are more experienced , allows that channel to open and flourish in a way I think would be very hard to achieve  in isolation.

For me, the first thing I discovered on starting the MA course was a sense of validation – while I was on the course, I could really begin to think of myself as ‘a writer’.  The structure of the modules provided me with a focused journey – at last, it was OK to be as obsessed with it all as I was (and still am!).  The teaching was inspirational – and it was such a relief to be in the company of other people who were as determined to write, and as interested in the process, as I was.   Up until then, I hadn’t met any other writers;   starting this course was rather like being a kid who has been standing outside a well-stocked toyshop with her nose pressed against the window, looking longingly at the all unreachable displays, and suddenly being told to come in and help herself.

What was so great about it?  It’s difficult to pick out individual elements -  learning to share work-in-progress with tutors and other students through the workshop system was revelatory  (and a  vitally important working practice) , but, as Stephanie Norgate explains, ‘It’s not all about workshopping, though that is often the most appreciated element by students. Our writing exercises and inspiring discussions of reading which focus on narrative possibilities, the building of character, story, subtext, imagery, undercurrents and so on,  raise the bar for the work submitted in workshops.’

I think it’s fair to say that I don’t think I’d have been published had I not done the MA.  Not only because I was taken on by an agent whom I met through a University-organised publishing panel (though that helped, of course!) but also because of what I learned, and how much better a writer I was when I left than when I arrived.

So, as Emma Lee-Potter says,  ‘ if you’re an aspiring author who’s thinking of doing a creative writing course my advice is: ignore the cynics and get that application form off in double-quick time’. I couldn’t have put it better myself.

*

I’m lucky enough to work regularly on promotional events with a couple of other Chichester MA graduates – Isabel Ashdown and Jane Rusbridge.  It’s lovely being able to work with other novelists, of course, but especially good when we have the MA experience in common.

http://www.janerusbridge.co.uk/             http://isabelashdown.com/

All of us writers have to do a fair bit of our own marketing these days – so, although it might seem like a bit of shameless self-promotion, I’m taking the opportunity to post an excerpt from ‘His Last Duchess’, along with a few reviews, both from papers and from Amazon.  I hope you enjoy it!

“The main drawbridge was down.   The sky was the colour of old pewter and a fine drizzle was dimpling the surface of the water in the moat.   The four great red towers of the Castello Estense glowered down at the rain-slicked city like scowling sentries,  the aggressively military precision of their dimensions somehow softened, blurred by the waterlogged air.  Diamond droplets hung along the length of all the white stone balustrades.

A sodden group of figures turned into the main piazza in front of the Castello as the cathedral bell chimed the midday:  four riders, one small cart laden with luggage, and, tethered behind the cart, a miserable and bedraggled looking white mule, ears drooping, small hooves scraping across the cobbles, as though too exhausted even to pick its feet up from the ground.  The group crossed the piazza, turned towards the castle and clattered up onto the drawbridge.

As they reached the central courtyard, Giovanni de’ Medici leaned forward and ran a hand down his pony’s waterlogged neck.  He kicked his feet from the stirrups, swung his leg up and over the horse’s rump and jumped down.  Hunching and rolling his shoulders, Giovanni stretched his back to ease out the stiffness of hours in the saddle, as several of the Estense horsemen emerged to greet the new arrivals.   One of them, tall, round-faced and cheerful, took Giovanni’s pony’s reins.

‘Thank you,’ said Giovanni.  ‘Thank you – she’s absolutely soaked – they all are.  Can you give her a good rub down and throw a blanket over her …?’

‘Of course, Signore – all the horses will be dried and stabled straight away.’

‘Her name’s Brezza,’ Giovanni began, ‘and she – ’

‘Vanni!’   He was interrupted by a shriek, and the sound of footsteps.  ‘Vanni!’

Turning, Giovanni saw Lucrezia running across the courtyard, her skirts bunched inelegantly in both fists.  He grinned and began to walk towards her.  She let go of her dress and threw her arms around him;  hugging her back, he lifted her right off her feet.

‘Oh, Vanni, you’re here at last!  But – you’re soaking!  How was your journey?  Was it horrible?  How are mama and – oh!’  She broke off and stood back from him, her mouth a shocked circle.  ‘Oh, cielo! Violetta!’ 

She had seen the mule.  Amused, and pleased with the impact of his surprise, Giovanni watched his cousin scramble across the courtyard to where the disgruntled donkey stood behind the cart.  She wrapped her arms around its sodden and dirty white neck and the mule tossed its head and stamped a hoof, irritably.   One of the stablemen began to unhitch it from the tailboard of the cart.  Lucrezia cradled the creature’s muzzle in both hands and kissed it, then turned back to Giovanni, her eyes shining.  The bodice and sleeves of her dress were now blotched and stained with rain and mud, and her face was dirty.   Giovanni rubbed the heel of his hand across his eyes and laughed.

‘Look at you!’ he said.  ‘Nothing changes …’

‘You brought her,’ Lucrezia said through a wide, muddy smile, ignoring him.

‘I take it you’re pleased.’

‘Did she complain all the way?’

Giovanni laughed again.  ‘She certainly did.  God, Crezzi, I can’t imagine why you’re so fond of her – she really has the filthiest temper, and the -’

‘Don’t!  Don’t be horrible!  She’s my darling mule and I love her – and I love you for bringing her!’  Lucrezia hugged him again.  ‘Come on inside out of the rain.’ 

She looked around at the other riders.  Raising her voice, she said, ‘Please, everybody – do come inside.  The servants will show you to your rooms, where you can change out of your wet things, and then there will be hot broth and wine – and I believe a fire has been lit in the East Hall.’ 

Giovanni proffered an arm, feeling suddenly pleased with himself, and rather older than his fifteen years.  Lucrezia took his arm with both her hands and squeezed it, smiling up at him again.  More servants in bright castle livery were appearing at the doors now;  they stepped out into the courtyard, looking, Giovanni thought, out of place in the open air, like a group of pet cats in a field.  Their shoulders hunched against the rain, they hastened to welcome the new arrivals in out of the wet, and, in a damp huddle, the party from Cafaggiolo finally entered the Castello.

Alfonso was startled to hear a commotion in the courtyard as he strode back up from the falconry.

He slowed his pace.

Pausing in the shadows of the tunnel from the back drawbridge, he ran a hand through wet hair and looked from one figure to another.  A trickle of cold rainwater ran down the back of his neck.  One of his horsemen was leading a muddy cob – still harnessed to the shafts of small, covered tilt-cart –  another held the reins of a good-looking little chestnut mare.  Three other horses were being led away towards the stables, along with an obviously elderly, and mud-soaked white mule.  A cluster of the castle servants were, Alfonso saw, irritably collecting the luggage from the cart – and then he saw her.

Lucrezia.

She had mud on her face and hands, and her dress was unaccountably filthy.  Her face, though, was alight with pleasure:  her eyes were shining as she laughed up at a lanky, dark-skinned boy, and Alfonso’s heart clenched tight for a moment until he recognised the newcomer.  His mind on his hawks, he had quite forgotten that his wife’s cousin was due to arrive today. ”

‘Gabrielle Kimm writes with a charm that entices us into a world of intrigue and dark undertones. She creates a passionate love story that gets under your skin, intimate and touching, against a backdrop of danger and treachery. Her vivid portrayal of Medici life is rich and wonderfully imagined, as she draws a skilful portrait of a fascinating time and place.’ KATE FURNIVALL, author of THE RUSSIAN CONCUBINE

‘Gabrielle Kimm’s sultry and deeply intimate debut novel brings to life Lucrezia de’Medici, heiress to one of Italy’s richest and most powerful families, who died in mysterious circumstances only three years after her marriage.   ‘His Last Duchess, a vivid portrayal of the teenage bride and the glittering but dangerously political world into which she was born, is a welcome addition to the ever popular historical novel market.
Kimm, an English and drama teacher, writes with elegance and seductive charm as she weaves her magic on a rich and colourful story of love and hatred, obsession and intrigue. Beautifully descriptive, full of fascinating period detail and simmering with tension and sexual chemistry, His Last Duchess is a love story to savour…’ Lancashire Evening Post

“His Last Duchess” is a wonderfully evocative picture of 16th Century Italy, combined with a touching love story and a thrilling who-dun-it plot, that I couldn’t put down! Gabrielle Kimm was inspired to write this book by Browning’s sinister poem,”My Last Duchess”, in which the speaker, Alfonso d’Este, is describing the portrait of the woman to whom he was married; as the poem unfolds, we realise that her demise may not have been natural! Indeed, historically, Lucrezia di Medici, who was the Duchess in question, vanished from sight three years after her marriage to d’Este, and there are no historical records of what happened to her. Kimm has taken this enigmatic poem, and spun a captivating possibile explanation of it, telling the story with vivid language, and painting unforgettable pictures, which linger in the memory long after the end – Amazon Review

‘His Last Duchess’ is a rich banquet of sumptuous detail. Set in Medici Italy, Gabrielle Kimm recreates the sights and sounds of the period with layers of evocative images that assail the senses. Against this backdrop, the drama unfolds at a swift pace. I identified easily with the characters, especially the protagonist, Lucrezia for whom I was anxious from the very beginning. The pace is maintained throughout as the characters struggle for survival within the closed walls of the Duke’s castle in Ferrara. The perfect balance of characterisation and plot sustains interest and intrigue right until the unpredictable and satisfying end of the story. I was captivated by this compelling story and I can’t wait the read the next one.

Amazon Review

His Last Duchess is a colourful, clever and compelling novel. This novel is an indulgent pleasure with a plot that is intricately layered with all the threads tightly woven together at the end. A must read for anyone who has ever truly loved another person.

Amazon Review

When you write a novel, I suppose it’s inevitable that at some point in the process, you start imagining the things you hope people might say about your book and the reactions they might have when they read it.  I’ve been very lucky, and have had some lovely reviews for ‘His Last Duchess’, and I’ve been amazed and delighted by every one of them … but last night a comment appeared in my email inbox, directed there from my website, and, to be frank, it has completely blown me away!

I decided I’d like to share it with you.  It’s from a gentleman called Richard Finch.

He says: “After many years teaching Drama and some English, for a while Director of the Ashcroft Arts Centre in Fareham, and then a deputy in a large Southwark comprehensive, I retired and set off for Africa.  Namibia to be exact, where from 2008, I taught at the University in the North and supported teachers – many in bush schools – in the teaching of English and helping them to develop more interactive teaching.

I was approached by some teachers who were struggling with a prescribed text for Second Language learners at Higher Level.  It was Browning’s ‘My Last Duchess’.  I had not encountered this work before.  My initial reaction – why set a text written by a Victorian British poet who in turn had set its subject in Renaissance Italy – a far cry from the flat desert plains and villages of the mainly Oshiwambo people.

This powerful dramatic monologue quickly caught my imagination as I decided to approach it as a mystery-thriller, woven with sensuality and romance.  There were distinct resonances as feudal values and attitudes, gradually but not entirely, are replaced by contemporary perspectives on life in a newly de-colonised society.

Teachers and learners alike embraced the poem with enthusiasm and made it their own.   I left Namibia last November, sold my house in Fareham, and have just relocated to Kwa Zulu Natal.

Imagine my excitement and curiosity when, in a Durban bookshop, the title of a new publication – His Last Duchess – jumped out at me.  From the cover place to the final words it had me gripped and enthralled.  I returned to the poem, and then back to the novel.  Everything in the story seemed as it would and should have been.  I want so many to read it.  it would make a dark and powerful stage play … and a sumptuous film.  Thank you for your inspired creation.”

Crumbs … it’s really worth having written the book, just for that, I reckon.  It’s not just the praise – it’s also the fact of reading about someone else’s equally enthusiastic response to Browning’s wonderful poem, and the poem’s being discussed and explored … in the deserts of Namibia!  How Browning would have loved that!  I can only imagine that Mr Finch is a wonderful teacher.  On top of everything, too, I’m just gobsmacked by the surreality of my novel’s being discovered in a bookshop in Durban!  My emailed response to Mr Finch, though heartfelt, felt dreadfully inadequate after all that!

Have any of you out there had reactions to your books that have left you similarly speechless?    I’d love to hear them, if you have!