On writing a story...

An analysis of writing the book "A Most Extraordinary Gardener" 

(Soon to be available on Amazon - price £9.50) 


I have just finished a novel set in and around Sittingbourne and Sheppey and although I use locations that are familiar to local residents there is a temptation to over describe. I have probably erred on the side of a lack of description concentrating on the characters and the action instead. This concentration  drives the story along easier than a lot of purple prose about the prettiness the scenery.

I began the story before the advent of Brexit and although I was tempted to adjust the story and perhaps make some wild predictions I did not. The tale has little to do with Brexit and mic to do with a illegal immigrants, modern slavery and one man's struggle to live a normal life.

The issue of any story seems to be conflict resolved in some fashion that the reader can understand or enjoy and attempt not to tie up too many loose ends too neatly. Like all writers there has to be some portion of your own moral philosophy in any story, yet at the same time you must have some empathy with your character however nasty they may be. You have to recognise that there is value in people and their actions that are carried out within their moral codes or standards. I hope I have succeeded in doing that.

This story may be a thriller dealing with some raw issues but at the sane time there is a modicom of humour, an attempt to make characters be themselves in dramatic situations and at the same time try and avoid the pedantic task of getting everything correct according to modern practice.

My police officers follow my expected procedures rather than the most accurate police procedures of current practice. I assume then reader is not interested in the details, the tale is not aimed at the detail picky reader. I am trying to tell a human story about a man whose life, because of his circumstances is different to what is expected to be normal.

The pleasure is becoming part of the character's world - identifying with him or her and suffering the troubles, feeling elated at their triumphs and feeling the anxiety as they work their way through the tale you have created for them. Drives you mad eventually.

But, I know feel the needs of Colin Rickman and see his world almost as he sees it yet still, despite him being my creation, realising that his story still goes on and there is much in his tale that I still do not know.

And now, as the book is about to be made public, it would be a nice thing if people shared Colin's story with me.

NEW TITLES ON AMAZON - the Vampire story.

Carmilla - Vampire  story spanning the centuries from the time of the Black Death. 

The Birdwatchers of Childen Under Blean - comedy of the amusing sexual activities of a sleepy North Downs village.

And Darkly Glows the City - Satanic horror story set in one of the most beautiful cities in the Southern Hemisphere. 


Carmilla - The Girl who was not afraid to walk alone in the dark

I have been busy recently and written, revised and put on Kindle a selection of titles. One tale, inspired by Sheridan Le Fanu's 19th Century story, Carmilla, and using the same title, is based on a short story I wrote for a Writer's Group Anthology. The tale was The Girl who was not afraid to walk alone in the dark, and from that, starting the tale in the years immediately before the Black Death and stretching to the 21st Century I hope I have created an entertaining Vampire story with an unusual twist.

Set in modern England, the story begins with a body found on a demolition site in a North Kent town. It is up to Inspector Damien Smith and his assistant, Detective Jimmy Coles to unravel the mystery of several horrific murders. Their hunt leads them to the Sussex village of Mardle, once the home of Sir Roger Mortymer, his sister Sylvia and her wayward daughter Carmilla.   In the nearby Denham Estate Trust lands, David Ross is working on the old Mortymer walled gardens. He falls in love with Jasmine Wheeler, daughter of the owners of the Three Poles pub in nearby Bartham St, Giles. The pair are reluctantly drawn into the investigation that threatens the life of their friend, Peter Mason, Warden of All Saints Church. The two detectives are convinced that the killings are the work of "A Girl who is not afraid to walk alone in the dark" and they become fearful for their own lives, as all evidence points to the existence of a Vampire.  Their failure to persuade Chief Inspector Falcone of their conclusions leads to yet more victims and a horrific conclusion to Smith's case.

The Birdwatchers of Childen Under Blean

Last year (2019) I finished my saucy, sexy comedy story of a sleepy North Downs village and what happens when a group of frustrated teenagers take up the hobby of Birdwatching and uncover the clandestine activities of their tight knit community. Revolving around the aspirations of the local cricket club, the village pub, and the church society the boy's activities reveal the secrets of the local vicar, change the lives of their families and draw the attention of the nearby townsfolk who invade the village seeking the naked choir master.  The scandalous behaviour of the residents, in particular the randy vicar, result in a chaotic climax that creates a hero and reveals creative possibilities for a thirteen year old entrepreneur. The Birdwatchers of Childen Under Blean was fun to write; mocking society as I see it.



 And Darkly Glows the City

Set in Auckland city, New Zealand, this dark horror story is a comment on rumours around events in the city between the early eighties and mid nineties, although the time of the story is set in the nineties. There are reports of street kids, the homeless young runaways living on the streets familiar in many cities of the times, and how some were exploited, kidnapped and used and abused by slavers. The authorities at the time struggled to cope with the problems but local Church bodies, Trade Unions and other concerned organisations began to make a difference and call for action. 

The story is summed up by the original brief synopsis. 


"When Detective Inspector Conrad O’Grady is called in to investigate a gruesome murder in one of Auckland’s richest suburbs he is not aware of the corruption and horror his investigation will uncover.  Assisted by rookie detective, Roy ‘Tex’ Rogers, O’Grady steadily discovers the answers to the riddle in his own rough and ready way.  

His progress is followed closely by the evil Fat Man who is determined to stop him finding out what is going on in the exclusive Downtown Athena Club.  Facing opposition from his superiors, and having to come to terms with the dreadful series of killings linked by the book Macabre Verses and a threat to his life O’Grady finds himself in a race against time to save those he loves from a terrible death.  

O’Grady’s story is not just the tale of a detective doing his job, but a story of compassion, strong emotions, powerful love stories and that of ordinary people caught up in unbelievable horror that could shatter their lives. It is also the story of two remarkable young people who reconcile their cultural differences. "

 

Flat Earth

I couldn't resist this: Yesterday (Easter Sunday) I listened to my niece talking about challenging the Flat Earthers. I had thought that any Flat Earth society would have died a natural death by now but it seems they are alive and kicking. It appears there are people who believe there is an Ice Wall around the world to stop us dropping off with hidden worlds beyond.  There is a man who used a steam driven rocket - sounds like a Spike Milligan plot - to observe the Earth and all this is linked in to the conspiracies about the moon landings and such.

I take it that these people are either heading for the Darwninian Gene Pool Awards or that they are, as they say in this area "'avin' a larf", or perhaps they are rational and intelligent beings with a turtle fixation. An ancient idea was that the Earth was supported by Elephants and Turtles. For thousands of years people have considered the Earth as sphere, at first encircled by spheres that included the Sun and the stars, and later - oh Heresy! - that the Earth circled the Sun.

A rough idea of what a Flat earth might look like. 

So, I looked up the Flat Earthers and had a giggle.  I could believe Terry Prachett's fictional Discworld for what it was, a comical stretch of the imagination and a great mickey take of our own world, but this lot, nah. What sort of mush do they have for brains? It must be all that junk-food. I note sadly that many of them are Americans, and I thought Americans were... well maybe not.

However, for what it is worth here is a story of one such enterprising nitwit:

The last of the great Flat Earthers. 

When Willy Wilson, billionaire entrepreneur and confirmed Flat Earther announced his latest enterprise the world’s media listened.

‘Science is completely wrong,’ he declared. ‘The Earth is a disc and I intend to sail my yacht, the Marco Polo, to the edge and follow it until I come back to where I started.’

‘You intend to sail around the world then?’ asked a young science journalist from the BBC. ‘But can you explain your, er, theory?’

Willy Wilson smiled patronisingly at the eager young man. ‘It is quite straightforward. Imagine you are standing on a cliff right now looking out to sea.’ The great man paused for a moment to allow the young reporter to catch up. ‘You can see that when a ship sails from the shore it reaches the horizon and disappears over the edge.’

Unimpressed the cynical but practical media audience said nothing thus avoiding a further illogical example. They nodded agreement along with the young reporter who was feeling extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed at being the first to ask a question.

‘The ship must find the edge of the world and sails around it until it arrives at a point where it can sail to its destination,’ Wonky Willy Wilson announced and puffing his chest out pointed to it with a long bony finger. ‘And I intend to map the edge properly and return to prove the scientists wrong.’

The young BBC man was tempted to ask another question but instead he left it up to others more experienced with rich loonies to explore the idea. He glowed with embarrassment as others regarded him with pitying looks and light “I’m glad it wasn’t me” smirks. A tour of the yacht and the well provisioned reception made up for the dreadful embarrassment of the conference. The young BBC reporter was sure that Willy was having some fun with the press.

‘Nobody believes that the Earth is flat in the 21st Century, surely? he said.

‘Weird Willy does, and he funds the Flat Earth Society to show it.’ Said one of his fellow journalists.

‘Enjoy the food and drink whilst you can get it.’

And as they say, a good time was had by all.

Willy Wilson sailed on the 2nd April watched by the media as he motored out to sea and set sail. The dancing mast top pennant disappeared over the horizon and with that last glimpse the media forgot about him. However, Marine Authorities had insisted he report his progress via the satellites orbiting the globe. Before he cast off the Harbourmaster reminded him of the service.

'If you get lost, we can come and find you anywhere on the globe.’
His last words to the Harbourmaster on that historic day affirmed his belief in a flat world.

‘The damn thing can follow me around the edge,’ he said and cast off. He reported his progress regularly but mostly his reports went unnoticed.

Niggled by his embarrassing interview with Willy Wilson the young BBC reporter gave up his post in favour of a degree in astronomy and physics. On the first day of April the following year Willy Wilson transmitted his last message. It read: “Whoops, I’m just going over the edge…”

A search for Mad Willy Wilson and the Marco Polo proved fruitless. Both Willy and his yacht were gone assumed sunk in the area of the Caribbean known as the Bermuda Triangle. Yet this is not the end of the story.

In true biblical fashion it came to pass many years after Willy Wilson’s abortive voyage a large Asteroid was plotted on a near collision course with the Earth. After much panic, bloody minded bickering and procrastination a solution was reached. The thing was to be shifted with a nuclear warhead or two.

The name Marco Polo II was chosen for the asteroid by an ex-BBC journalist who had found working with Britain’s space projects more interesting than reporting on silly buggers with mad ideas.
The world’s media watched the missiles explode against the asteroid, enjoyed the display of slow motion material erupt from the target and cheered when the Marco Polo II’s course shifted as planned.

The explosion exposed a large cleft in which lay a structure that looked uncannily familiar to the ex-BBC reporter. What they found when the high definition cameras zoomed in to the object took the world completely by surprise. For all to see, inscribed in a flat surface were the words Marco Polo.

As the ex-BBC journalist remarked.
‘Life is so unfair.’

Changing times

This blog is about my writing in the main, but I will also look at work by other writers especially from the Isle of Sheppey. I intend to expose you to my poetry and some short stories as tasters for a new collection and to add some previews of books.

It is also an opportunity to add links to where you can buy copies of my books and discuss them with me.

I will also make comments about writing, favourite books and at times perhaps discuss other subjects to do with writing. As a part of the Sheppey Writer's Group I am often involved in some of the activities on and a round the Island. I will also comment on these as I take part.

James Apps.