



The three men walked briskly off, following the growing throng, Shapes taking care not to spill any of his precious beer. Their target was the start line for the race, which, with the show ring now extended, was close to a stall selling a fine collection of tea towels, mugs, calendars for the following year and sundry other goods. Already gathering together directly in front of it could be seen a small group of scarecrows and, so far, a single Aunt Sally.

The beer tent was an enormous affair, acres of off-white canvas that flapped gently in the breeze, held up by a small forest of sturdy metal poles and mile upon mile of pegged out ropes. In the not inconsiderable experience of Sergeant Stanley Shapes it was one of the biggest he’d ever encountered, surely capable of accommodating a hundred or so people.

Margery Redhill sat on the bench of the little wooden bus shelter, looking out on a glorious sunny day. In the field opposite, a small herd of black and white Friesian cows were grazing contentedly on the last of the late summer pasture, while a buzzard drifted overhead on outstretched wings, scanning the ground below as it sought out its next meal. From a small stand of trees came a short burst of vibrant hammering before a woodpecker took to the wing, a flash of green as it skimmed low across the grass.

Just recently I had reason to re-visit a question that has bumped around in my head on previous occasions, namely is it a good or bad thing to make use of local dialects in my writing.
Continue reading “Is Using Dialects in my Writing a Bad Thing?”

There are so many things involved in being an indie author that, at times, it can feel close to overwhelming. So, how do I go about avoiding overload and burn out?

I like cold pizza. I know people, strange, weird people who may have come here from outer space, who don’t like cold pizza. On the other hand, I don’t like cold Chinese food, but I know people who do and they really must be from planet Zoiks! because that’s just too much. Way too much.

Many months ago now I realised I needed to get out and about more. Sitting at my desk all day, every day wasn’t really good for me. It’s turned out to have been a good move but it seems the pool of things to do is actually wider and deeper than I realised. So, if you happen to feel you might need a pick me up, then read on.

I am about two-thirds of the way through writing a new book in an existing series and I know already this will be the last book I write in that series. I’ve loved writing these particular stories, but I feel I’ve now done all I want to do with these. Of course, that means there will be space for something new, but what is that to be?

I am writing the third book in my Alexander Templeman series of old fashioned espionage thrillers and something happened this week which, when it occurs, always leaves me with a bit of a conundrum. You see, I’ve created a supporting character who I like so much I don’t want to let him go. What am I to do?
Continue reading “The Lure of an Irresistible New Character”