Fans

There has been a fairly forthright debate among some of the writers I know on Facebook about the etiquette of inviting other writers to join your fan page. I should point out at this point that I do not have a fan page. I'm too scared that I would set one up and no one would join. But the rules of this new form of social interaction are still in a state of flux.

I saw Mark Walden at the Bloomsbury party just before Christmas and he was making the very good point that he has friends (real friends) and family as friends on his Facebook page and he has a fan page for, well, fans.

Some of the writers today were making the point that they need to promote themselves. Publishers and agents expect it of us. Ironically, the more in need of publicity and marketing you are, the less budget will usually be allocated to you. New writers and those yet to make a name for themselves need to find ways of building a following. It's hard. There are a lot of books out there and few are reviewed.

But I wonder whether Facebook really works in that way. I think it is a very good tool for networking (something I am not very good at). I've 'met' some interesting people there and I've been able to contact some people I admire. It has been very useful in my attempts to gather together authors and illustrators for my Cumbria appeal.

But I can't see it as much use - for me - anyway, as a tool for gaining publicity or readers.

Road movie

I've been reading good things about movie of The Road. Can it really be as good as the critics say? I hope so.

I had a look at the trailer on YouTube ages ago after having a chat with Tony Bradman who - like me - is a big fan of the book. The trailer seemed wrong to me in so many ways. It seemed to be making a thriller out of a book that was so much deeper than that. All of the events the trailer showed were in the book, but they just did not read like that - or not to me anyway.

The music was a big problem. The road describes an ash-covered lifeless world where the few remaining humans provide the only sound and movement. Incidental music seemed weirdly inappropriate.

I am also a little troubled by the idea of having a narrator. A narrator in a movie is almost an admission that the story cannot effectively be told in film alone. There must be good movies with narrators - though I can't think of one right now - but surely the actors and action should speak for themselves. I think I read that Viggo Mortensen was against the idea.

Cormac McCarthy approved it, but maybe that was simply a writer's ego getting in the way. After all, it allows more of his words through.

Chick lit

It is good to sit down and have a proper look at what I'm hoping to achieve in the next few months. I have a love/hate relationship with this time of the year. I love it because it feels like a bit of a rebirth: there is that lovely feeling of setting out on a journey full of hope and goodwill. I hate it because I always wake up one day in June thinking, what - where the hell did the first half of the year go and who is that creepy old man in the mirror?

So - what am I up to? Well - I am at the synopsis and first few chapter stage of a new book. New books are a little like new years in that they are bursting with possibilities. Unlike new years, I don't think I ever lose excitement with a book. If I did, I would probably stop and write something else.

That's not to say that I don't ever get exasperated or frustrated or overcome with despair. It is just that I feel committed to a book and to the struggle of writing it. I rather like the struggle to be honest.

Regulars to my blog - you know who you are bless you - may remember that I planned to write a contemporary horror novel with an urban setting. Well, that plan went a little bit off piste and the book I am now hoping to place with Bloomsbury is a in fact set in the Regency period - 1818 to be precise. I was worried that having promised Bloomsbury a contemporary novel they might be a bit troubled by the change. But of course publishers want the best book you have, regardless of what you might have said six months before.

The fact is you have to go with the thing that begs to be written and this particular chick was the one that cheeped the loudest (albeit in a rather hoarse and scary voice). I want to write this book more than I have wanted to write anything for quite some time.

Cumbria update

I must apologise for not blogging about the Cumbria Book Appeal project for a while. There really did not seem to be much to say after I had announced the postponement, but I do want to impress on everyone that a) it is still very much on, and b) we still want as many people as possible to get on board.

Several authors and illustrators have joined since I last did a list and some people have been in touch, eager to send the books they have. Can I ask everyone to continue to be patient and hang on to those books. They are definitely wanted and they will get to Cumbria, I promise. But not quite yet.

I have not been in touch with anyone from the council yet as the snow has simply added to everyone's problems and there seems no point in even trying to discuss logistics yet. When the snow has gone and everything has calmed down, we will begin to talk about a date and so on.

In the meantime I am getting together a small number of people that I can run ideas past. I have never wanted this to be about me and a small committee will hopefully mean that we come up with the best possible solutions. The important thing here is that the books everyone donates are delivered in the most effective way.

More news when I have it.

Feedback

The snow that has been falling all over Britain has finally arrived in Cambridge, though so far there hasn't been very much. There is enough to make my son's return bike ride from school a little treacherous. He only went back today and already I can see that we may have more snow overnight and the school may close. My wife is worried that all the textile designs she has been doing over Christmas may amount to nothing if her agents can't make it to the Heimtex trade fair in Frankfurt.

I have been having a clear out in my office ahead of getting down to work properly, now that my son is back at school. My desk had become covered in all kinds of junk - ditto the floor and chairs and shelves. I am slowly working my way through whilst importing some more music into my iTunes library now that I have twice the memory on my lovely new blue iPod nano. I have just been enjoying the massive wall of feedback that opens Anthrax by the Gang of Four. Excellent.

Very sorry to read Martin Salisbury's obituary for Susan Einzig in the Guardian. I have raved many times about Philippa Pearce's wonderful Tom's Midnight Garden. It is a brilliant book and it was blessed with an illustrator who caught the mood of the novel perfectly.

But you're an absolute idiot, Ginger

There was another very sharp frost this morning. The house has been fairly warm over the Christmas break, but the heating does not seem to be able to quite cope with this fall in temperature.

We have been working our way through the DVD collection of Jeeves and Wooster - the old series starring Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie. It holds up pretty well. My son loves it. The thing that hits one straight away is that it should not have been a surprise that Hugh Laurie went on to be a very successful actor (he's very good). Stephen Fry on the other hand - though practically perfect in every way - seems to think that all there is to playing Jeeves is arching an eyebrow, pursing his lips and saying, 'Indeeeeeed, sir.'

We watched the last one and it was hilarious. Bertie Wooster's old chum Ginger announces that he is to stand as Conservative candidate in the upcoming by-election.

Bertie: 'No!'
Ginger: 'I am!'
Bertie: 'But you're an absolute idiot, Ginger,'
Ginger: 'I know!'

Priceless.

Cortez the killer

My son and I went to see the Moctezuma - yes, Moctezuma - exhibition at the British Museum today. It was fascinating. It still seems utterly incredible that Cortes and 500 men could take over a whole country and destroy the Aztec culture but they did. A display comparing the Aztec weapon of choice - what looks like a wooden chopping board with flint teeth - and Spanish armour and weapons (which included muskets) did not really explain it. It's a sad and complicated story and the exhibition left us both wanting to know more.

The artifacts are amazing. The exhibition was not too busy so we were able to have a good clear, long look at things. The bas relief carving was great. I've always loved the Aztec sense of design - the way they fill the space. The look of the Eagle and Jaguar warriors is amazing too.

Of course, I have also always - like all boys - been fascinated by the human sacrifice aspect of Aztec culture: the ripping out of human hearts to feed the sun. Death is a massive presence throughout, with stone skulls at every turn. The exhibition was full of reference to this act - drawings and sculptures, knives for removing hearts, elaborately carved stone vessels for holding hearts.

Turquoise and gold are the overwhelming colours of the show - but blood red is the colour that really dominates.

After the exhibition we had lunch and then wandered down to Soho for a haircut and then to Covent Garden. We went in the Tintin shop in Floral street and my son ogled the lovely but horribly expensive collection of cars and figures. Then we went a couple of doors down and I ogled the clothes in Paul Smith. We agreed that if he could not spend £50 on a a model of Tintin and Captain Haddock riding camels, then I could not really justify spending £30 on some stripy socks for my iPod.