Sugar loaf and sugar rum

I am writing this on a school computer with a 'd' that sticks, so I will try and use that letter as little as possible!

Yesterday I went to the Urca site of the British School. The library there must have one of the best views of any school library in the world, looking across the bay towards the Cristo standing on top of the mountain. It was a much sunnier day in Rio but I had not brought my camera into school - not realising I might have something to take a picture of. I am back at that site on Thursday so I will take a picture then.

I spoke to four different groups of children who were all very attentive. I talked about how I came to write, how I write and how they might improve their approach to their own writing. I read some of my work and then we had questions - though time was pretty short. It was all a bit exhausting, but it's a great school.

At the end of the day the librarians took me over to restaurant called Tiramasu in a shopping mall with another spectacular view looking back towards the Urca site, which sits at the foot of Sugar Loaf. We had some tapas-type things and I had a fruit juice of pineapple and mint. Absolutely fantastic flavour. And it somehow got me in the mood to have my second caipirinha (lemon/lime and sugar rum) of my trip.

I met the librarians from other sites - including Viviane Silva who is the librarian here at Barra - pronounced Bar-Har - where I am today. I also met a storyteller from the US called Priscilla Howe. She lives in Kansas - though she's originally from Long Island if memory serves. She was very nice with a lovely voice. I hope I get to hear her tell a story, but I don't think we'll ever be at the same site at the same time.

Viviane took me on a tour of the school here and while we were going round my mobile went and it was the company we rent our house from in Cambridge talking about fixing a drawer in my kitchen - which was a little surreal.

I did my sessions - mainly centred around my book Billy Wizard - and then went with Mimi to the Botanical Gardens, which were beautiful and I only wish I'd had more time to enjoy them. I could have easily spent the day there. Incredible trees and lots of bird life. It has been overcast and not especially warm today, but I hear it might be better tomorrow.

I'm back at the Barra site tomorrow.

Raining in Rio

Here I am in Rio, staying in the lovely house of Merche - sister of John Clark. I arrived last night after an exhausting flight. The travelling went OK. The flight to Madrid seemed like a short hop in comparison to the 10 hours plus of the flight across the South Atlantic.

Air travel normally has the effect of compressing distance, but when you look out of a window and see the ocean, and then look out four hours later and it's still ocean, you begin to appreciate just how vast it is.

We were late taking off from Madrid and it took an age to get through customs and passport control at Rio, so Merche was kept waiting as she she had kindly come to pick me up. We had never met and she was sweetly holding a copy of Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror so I would recognise her.

Merche's family have been incredibly friendly and we ate pizza before I collapsed into my very comfortable bed in my air-conditioned ensuite bedroom. I woke at six (ten in UK time) and it was sunny. I mooched about until the rest of the house woke up, joined them for coffee and toast and then went for a walk on the beach with Merche and her dog, Charlie, but it started to rain and we came back.

I was taken for a meal at a restaurant were waiters keep appearing at your side with different cuts of different kinds of meat. It was very good - though I realised afterwards that I had not eaten any vegetables at all. It was just meat, meat and, oh go on then, more meat. I did have a bit of fruit in the form of a fearsome lime and rum cocktail. Mimi Liang joined us from the British School and it was nice to see her again. She has been my point of contact with the school all along.
From there we drove through the rain to the signing at Livraria da Travesso. I did sign some books, but the rain had kept people away (or at least that was what I clung to as an excuse). I did get to meet Adriana Sardinha from Rocco though and she was great. I hope the Rocco edition does well for us both. It has just come out.

And I got to meet a comic book writer called Estevão Ribeiro, who gave me a couple of his comics. One is called Contos Tristes (Sad Tales). I have never done a signing and come away with someone else's books. It was good to meet you Estavão. Thanks for coming along.

Heathrow

Here I am sitting in the Yotel - that is such a terrible name - in Heathrow terminal 4. I have an early flight to Rio - via Madrid - tomorrow. The Yotel room is like something from a space station - or a kind of 70s vision of a space station. It has a bed that changes from a seat to a bed at the touch of a silver button (I hope). But what if I hit that button in my sleep? Will I get scooped up?

I'm already exhausted. The tube trip alone from King's Cross to Heathrow took over an hour, and we were all booted off at one point because there was 'something wrong with the radio' on the tube we were on. It wasn't a great start.

Now I need to sleep. I have a 5am start tomorrow and a day of travelling ahead.

Battle of Britain

Running is becoming easier. Well at least it is becoming less painful. I keep running further each time, but I must be running quicker as well, because I still don't seem to be out for the half an hour Joad prescribed for me.

I got an email today from Jill Sawyer at Scholastic telling me about a Times promotion which will feature the My Story - Battle of Britain book I did for them a few years ago. The book was repackaged in May. It tells the story of a fictional Spitfire pilot.

Contos de Terror do Tio Montague

An enormous jiffy bag full of paperbacks of Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror arrived today. I love boxes/bags of books. I am looking forward to seeing the various translated versions of Uncle Monty. So far I have only seen the US and Spanish Latin American editions.

The Rocco edition I will be promoting in Rio is called Contos de Terror do Tio Montague. I will be signing copies at 4 pm on Sunday 28 September at the Livraria da Travessa in Ipanema. I have looked on the bookshops website, and there I am!

Tess

The BBC have an excellent adaptation of Tess of the d'Urbevilles on at the moment (which I will miss when I'm in Rio). When I say it is excellent, I mean the acting and direction is excellent, which is ususally the most you can hope for in one of these things.


I have a bit of a thing about costume dramas. Seeing people in bonnets and bodices immediately makes it look safe and olde worlde, despite the fact that the books involved were often far from safe when they were written. There was nothing safe about Hardy, for instance.

But what came through most strongly watching it, was just what a fantastic writer Thomas Hardy was - for all the clanging of tortured coincidences and the torturing of his characters, he created an absolutely compelling world. It makes me want to re-read the book.

Ghosts

I tried to write more of the 'inspiration for the stories' stuff I had promised to give Adrian for the Tales of Terror from the Black Ship. When they are in a more coherent form I'll put them on the blog. And I've reached the end of Ghosts.

By that I don't that I have finished - I mean I've just reached the end. I have skipped a lot of stuff and simply written whatever has come most readily to me. I don't always write like this, but I am trying to get the bulk of the book roughed out before I go to Rio and so I am just writing those parts that I see most vividly. Then I will go back through and link them together.

I wanted to have the whole shape of the book there waiting for me when I got back - regardless of holes. Then it becomes about fleshing out the characters and making the thing come to life. This kind of book - mystery/suspense/thriller/chiller - is all about the release of information. The sequence of events and the speed of the narrative is crucial. Sometimes you want to hold the reader back, sometimes you want to send them hurtling down a dimly lit corridor.