Murder to Music launch at the London Book Fair

I had a terrific day at the London Book Fair with my publisher, Hazel Cushion of Accent Press. There were little bags with the picture of the Murder to Music cover on them containing copies of the book, a book mark and an Accent catalogue, which were given away to interested bystanders (whether they wanted them or not!) and I got happy hand ache signing. On the wall behind me was a huge poster of all my covers, so I felt like a star.

I've had a mini blog tour over the past few days, and if you haven't anything better to do, here are the links:
http://itsacrime.typepad.com/ A guest blog on the It's A Crime site.
http://forbookssake.net/2011/04/08/five-minute-friday-lesley-cookman/ Mini interview on the For Books' Sake site
http://www.janicehortonwriter.blogspot.com/ Interview on writer Janice Horton's blog
http://writerschecklist.blogspot.com/ Interview on writer Maureen Vincent-Northam's blog
http://stuartaken.blogspot.com/ Interview on writer Stuart Aken's blog

There are another couple to come, including a Skype interview - scary. And I had a virtual launch on Facebook, which was huge fun and I had so many lovely people raising virtual glasses of fizz. So all-in-all, the best launch day I've had. And thank you to Hazel and Accent for continuing to publish me - there are two more in the pipeline!

The gentle Face of Crime

Recently, crime writer Catherine Aird, author of the Calleshire series, starring Sloan and Crosby, hosted a lunch for four other gentle, modest ladies of a certain age. They were Amy Myers, author of the Marsh and Daughter series and the new Jack Colby series (among others), Susan Moody, author of the Penny Wanawake and Cassandra Swann series (among others) Joan Lock, author of the Detective Inspector Ernest Best series (among others) and me. Amy's husband, Jim, took the picture and is very involved in the new Jack Colby series. To look at us, you'd never think we were such a murderous lot, would you?

Once more unto the blog, my friends

Very late, of course.

After a frantic six weeks after Christmas I managed to send Murder to Music off to the publishers, from whom I'm expecting a mass of revisions any day.

Not much to report apart from that. I have already got the outline of the next due out in November and as yet untitled, and have a signing lined up in Tunbridge Wells on April 23rd at Waterstones, an author workshop at The Faversham Festival sometime in June, and I shall be guest of honour at a local book group's 25th anniversary in November.

I'm also hoping to organise a blog tour to promote Murder to Music, so if anyone reads this and would like me to pop in, let me know!

Christmas Past

Funny thing about Christmas. When it's just gone you breathe a sigh of relief and wonder why you bothered, yet come next October you're planning the next one. At least, that's what it's like for me.

I've realised, over the past few days, that I rely too heavily on my grown-up children at Christmas. The thought that they might NOT come home for The Day turns my stomach to water and makes my blood run cold. Yet what happens when they've all got families and want to spend the time at home? Even my elder daughter brings her lot to my house on Boxing Day and we end up crammed into my small, cluttered house having to eat a buffet lunch because there's no room round the table.

My late husband and I hosted Christmas for my parents and his aunt and uncle (surrogate grandparents for the children) from very early on. There were the odd ones where we spent them with my parents or aunt and uncle, like the Christmas immediately after my father died, or when aunt and uncle were in Australia, but mostly it was everybody to ours! And they stayed overnight, too. It was easier that way, everybody could have a drink and the children loved it.

Later when we moved to Whitstable, we used to go and fetch Aunt on Christmas Eve (3 hour round trip) and take her back the day after Boxing Day. My mum was either living with us or up the road by then.

So, for around 35 years, I've had Christmas. The traditions grow up and change, inevitably, because I no longer have four children clambering into bed with me on Christmas morning. Instead, it's after we've had our first glass of fizz that we open our presents. And, for the last 23 years, we've had what started life as the Leftovers Party on the 27th, but is just Mum's Party now. The guest list has changed but there are always guitars involved. At least, I assumed so. But, again, I realised things have changed and there will probably be no more parties on the 27th.

And my children have changed. I now find the old role reversal in play, and I really didn't expect that until I was at least 75! But change happens, and we have to expect it and accept it. I suppose if I still had a husband it would be different, but I don't think there's any danger of a new one on the horizon at my age - would I want one? Er - no.

So I'll go back to being mad old cat lady who writes books. And try and ignore next Christmas until it thrusts itself upon me and I come out with the inevitable "Um, will you be here for Christmas Day this year?"

Funny thing about Christmas. Makes you think.