Some reflections on fiscal matters...

The Guardian piece Louise posted on my Facebook Timeline, The Guardian, might appear, at first 
glance, to suggest that we're all rich. You know - the classic rich, white, middle class majority. 
Oh, whoops! Did I say majority? Well, them, anyway. And believe me, as the writer says in her 
piece, there are entitled, middle class hobbyists out there, supported in a variety of ways 
including working husbands, but also many, many writers who have other jobs. The only reason I'm 
able to do this job is because I was lucky enough to have no mortgage to pay, as my late husband's 
aunt had paid it off when she died. But the reason I HAVE to do this job is because I have no 
other income. 

Late DH and I were never brilliant with money. We did some smashing jobs, but none of them 
actually paid well. Our children have followed faithfully in our footsteps. And frankly, I consider

myself bloody lucky. Most of the time I can support myself and even any boomeranging 

offspring that appear for the odd fortnight.

Just occasionally, this all gets a bit on top of me. Such as learning that my new publisher won't 

be paying me until July. Now I know received wisdom states that it is terribly non-U to discuss 

money, but sorry, folks, sometimes you have to. I need people to know why I can't do things 

sometimes. Like go on holiday. Or to conferences. Or even to speaking gigs, which the 

organisers always tell me will "raise my profile" and that I shall be able to sell some books! Well, 

the amount of books I'd probably sell would maybe pay for a cup of tea and a bun, and rarely do

these bookings offer to pay, even the fairly well known book festivals. Yes, it's wrong, and at the 

beginning of my career as an author (not as a writer - that's different) I'd willingly go dashing off

to various parts of the country without even getting expenses. But now? I would rather keep 

what I have to pay for essentials and the moderate comforts of home.

For instance, today my PLR has come in. This is Public Lending Right, which we get once a year

for all the borrowings of our books made over the last twelve months. It has saved my life more

than once, and today I immediately paid for my recent delivery of coal, my car tax for a year and

booked an MOT for next week. Oh - and my granddaughter's birthday present. Very self indulgent, 

all of them. But this why I write books - because I can actually afford to buy coal, keep my car on 

the road (just) and buy my grandchildren birthday presents. I can manage to pay for the landline, 

keep my mobile topped up, pay my Sky subscription and my gas and electricity bills and my council

tax. I can even indulge my small vices - not to excess, but a bottle of Scotch a week? - and until fairly

recently, buy a few new clothes. (Warning - don't lose a lot of weight unless you're rich. Your wallet

will not love you.)

So there you are. The real life of a writer. I'm not moaning - as I said, I consider myself very lucky. If 

I have to work, at least I'm lucky enough to do this. But this is also why I, and a lot of my fellow 

authors, worry like mad with every new book. Will they like it, the publishers? Will I ever get another 

contract? Will I be able to eat next year?

Frankly, it's a bloody silly way to earn a living...

Happy New Year (a bit late)

Well, here we are in Mid-January and I'm trying to get to grips with Life, The Universe and Everything.

My new publishers, Headline, are busily trying to resolve all the issues that bubbled up during the takeover...., and if anyone didn't receive their order of Murder Repeated this is the correct link. Murder Repeated. There are still a few unresolved problems, but Toby Jones, who is Editorial Director and my personal contact, is bending over backwards to be helpful. I have started the next book, with a delivery date of April, but I have no idea if the original publishing date of June will be adhered to. I have my doubts!

So, meanwhile, I have been in the process of setting up a Patreon Account. This will entitle those who sign up (for a small fee in US Dollars, I'm afraid) to some exclusive material. Regular readers, my Libby's Loonies, have all given me ideas for this, and my tech savvy children (that's the three younger ones - eldest's worse than I am) have been bullying me into doing all sorts - Podcasts, live interviews with other authors, you name it, they reckon I'm equal to it.

However, I've thought and worried about it for a week now, and woke up clear eyed and bushy tailed this morning, realising that what my regular readers wanted was More Libby To Read. That's what they ask for - when's the next book out. Only this morning, one of them sent me a message saying she'd just finished Murder Repeated and it was like sitting down with old friends, and when was the next one?

Also, we discuss all sorts on the Libby's Loonies group, which you can join if you're on Facebook (the link will take you there) as long as you answer the question, and that's all free, so why would you pay for it? What no one gets (it's my living, after all!) is free reading material. So - how about a little short story or chapter from an exclusive novella, say? That seems more sensible to me, and is the sort of thing I would sign up for. I don't really do Podcasts and stuff, although daughter Philly has introduced me to a great Stephen Fry one in the car.

So, when I've got to grips with all the details, I shall post the link and you can all become Patrons! (Only joking - not obligatory.) Meanwhile, I've still got the next book to write (no title yet) and my tax bill to pay. Cheers!

Fairly Fed up December

Well, folks - this is - theoretically - out! Murder Repeated. There have been many issues - books not arriving at distributors, bookshops, amazon and other outlets, let alone customers who were expecting them on Thursday 5th. According to amazon, delivery is still taking longer than average, and currently there are only 2 copies in stock. I have had virtually no promotion, and have resorted this morning (Sunday) to rushing round trying to drum up a little blog tour; a fairly hopeless task, I feel, this close to Christmas.

I also discovered that Headline have raised the Kindle price to £5.99. This is unacceptable to me. I desperately need an agent, but all of those to whom I've applied have failed, so far, to reply. I wish now I'd stuck to my guns and refused to go to Headline at the time of the takeover. There is another publisher to whom I would far rather have gone, but I don't know the legal position, and the various stratagems employed in wrangles of this kind. I have repeatedly complained to my editor at Headline, who has, again, repeatedly assured me that all issues have been addressed.

I'm telling you, dear readers, all this because I'm seriously considering giving up the whole thing. I'm not fishing for compliments here - I know full well that Libby Sarjeant fans will not want Libby to disappear, but right at the moment I genuinely don't feel like writing another word.

***EDITED*** Well, the copies have arrived at Amazon - just hope everyone receives theirs! I shall carry on with the agent-hunt, and the promo-slog - and, of course, Libby is safe. She lives to fight another day.

Anyway, I wish you all the merriest Christmas you can possible have, and thank you all for your support - I shall wear it always 😊.

Betjeman's Banana Blush

This is a self indulgent post. While I am holiday in Turkey every year, I listen to my iTunes collection in my room, due to lack of internet. Among quite a large selection of old comedy - I'm Sorry I'll read That Again, I'm Sorry I haven't a Clue, Alan Davies, Stilgoe and Skellern - I have two albums by John Betjeman, with music by Jim Parker.

My husband and I were introduced to the first album, Betjeman's Banana Blush, by a schoolfriend of the old man's, Colin Eades, who, appropriately, lived in the heart of Metroland, as we did ourselves. I loved it so much I bought it, and later, the follow up, Betjeman's Britain. I didn't know much about Betjeman or his poetry at the time, but he soon became my favourite poet. One I particularly loved was Business Girls, which describes with the utmost poignancy the solitary residences of these ladies in Camden Town, backing on to the railway cuttings: At the back precarious bathrooms Jutting out from upper floors; and ends with: Rest you there, poor unbelov'd ones, Lap your loneliness in heat. All too soon the tiny breakfast, Trolley-bus and windy street.

Then there's the famous Arrest of Oscar Wilde at the Cadogan Hotel, an event which, in my youthful ignorance, I knew nothing at the time. I was fascinated. And Lenten Thoughts of a High Anglican: Isn't she lovely, the Mistress? With her wide-apart grey-green eyes? I could go on; each poem brilliantly nostalgic, often humorous and always with the underlying sadness. Even Hunter Trials, from a young girl's point of view, competing at a local event, and ending with: Oh, wasn’t it naughty of Smudges? Oh, Mummy, I’m sick with disgust. She threw me in front of the Judges, And my silly old collarbone’s bust. That resonated - the same thing happened to me on a pony called Charade at the Clapham Common Gymkhana. Not quite the same as a posh "county" event, but never mind.

All of these enhanced by the wonderful music of Jim Parker, of whom I had also never heard. You might not have done, either, but I bet you know the atmospheric theremin theme for Midsomer Murders.

Told you it was a self indulgent post. Ever since Colin introduced me to the album I have loved both Betjeman and Parker, so to him, wherever he may be, thank you. I don't suppose this will set any of you off on the same path, but if it does, good. And when I get home I'm going to watch Metroland again. I shall also re-read Laurie Lee, suggested by Peter, a friend out here in Turkey, which will no doubt set me off on another trail of nostalgic discovery.

Happy listening!