50th party blog guest - Julie Cohen

I first met Julie Cohen at an RNA conference when she was giving a talk about writing sex in novels. I still remember the strawberries, the chocolate, and Nigel Slater :o) (That’s something we have in common, as well as music and books and films – Julie rates Nigel as a writer as well as a cook.) And I forgive her for setting me up with a pic at another conference, where it looked as if I’d just downed six bottles of wine. (LOL. Those of you who know me in real life know that I’m a lightweight and can barely manage two glasses!) Then she sold to M&B, to the same line I was writing for, and we were on the same author loop, and we just got on really, really well. I’ve seen her books grow in depth and character over the years as she’s moved into mainstream fiction, and she has the ability to make me laugh and put a lump in my throat at the same time. On the train to the last RNA awards, I nearly ended up with panda eyes before the official photographs and it was All Her Fault. (Some of them were tears of laughter. Some of them weren’t. The Summer of Living Dangerously is very, very good, btw.)

Anyway, over to Julie:

Kate Hardy has many extraordinary and wonderful characteristics, but my favourite is this: when you mention something to her that is a little bit out of the ordinary, a little bit weird (particularly if it involves ice cream, chocolate or coffee), her eyes get all big. She stares out somewhere beyond you, somewhere exciting and fascinating. She is seeing incredible things in her mind. Her expression of wonder is such that you're tempted to turn your head to check if there's something amazing going on behind your back. But there's nothing there.

She says, slowly, and with a particular relish to her words:

"I can use that in a story."

And you know that Kate's next book, or maybe the book after that, will include something strange and interesting, something that she's researched intensively and that has given her story its own particular, special flavour.

I've only once done that to Kate. It was the Romantic Novelists' Association conference in Greenwich, during a special Gala Dinner to celebrate the RNA's fiftieth anniversary. It had been a boiling hot day, glorious and sunny, and we were upstairs in the Trafalgar Tavern trying to cool down with draughts of champagne, whilst the evening sun slanted in through the tall windows overlooking the Thames. At one very special moment, the sunlight hit some of the crystals in the chandelier at precisely the right angle so that shards of rainbow were projected onto an oil painting of Nelson and his associates.

This was pretty, but not particularly interesting in itself. What was interesting at the moment that I happened to look up, was that the rainbows shone directly on Nelson's crotch. And the crotches of his compatriots.

Of course this was too good to keep to myself so I ran from table to table, pointing it out. Kate, who shares my sense of humour, immediately took a photo. And I turned to her and said, "I can use that in a story."

THE SUMMER OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY is a contemporary novel about a woman who gets a summer job in a stately home where the inhabitants are recreating the summer of 1814. Every weekend, journalist Alice Woodstock gets to put on a Regency frock and play the part of an impoverished yet spirited spinster cousin of the wealthy Fitzwilliam family. Her job is to interact with tourists during the day, and then, in her real life, she's writing a series of articles for Hot! Hot! magazine about pretending to live in the past.

None of this is as easy as it sounds, mostly because in 1814, she's distracted by the gorgeous, wealthy, chivalrous owner of the house, James Fitzwilliam. And in her real life, she's distracted by her feckless, annoyingly sexy artist ex-husband Leo Allingham, who has returned unexpectedly from America.

It's Alice who notices that at around two o'clock on every sunny day in Eversley Hall, the light reflects off the chandelier and projects a rainbow directly onto the crotch of an oil painting of James Fitzwilliam. She writes about it in her magazine, and the rainbow becomes a tourist attraction all of its own.

It was a fun scene to write, but the oil painting and the rainbow also began to take on greater significance for me. It was something temporary projected onto something permanent, and a lot of SUMMER is about how even things that are past leave permanent traces. Alice and Leo have a tragic secret in their past, one that they never talk about, but which has changed them forever. The rainbow also functions like a sundial, and the book is about taking time to heal, time to think, time to discover who you really are.

Writing can transform something temporary into something permanent, and something merely interesting into something special and new. Kate does this all the time in her books, and I'm proud that sometimes, she and I have that in common.

I'll give away a paperback of THE SUMMER OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY to a commenter below. You can talk about rainbow crotches, or whatever you like, really.

And CONGRATULATIONS, KATE, for 50 books!

Julie's website is http://www.julie-cohen.com and she's on Twitter far too much as @julie_cohen. Her next book, DEAR THING, will be out in hardback in April 2013.

conference, part 1 (Friday)

Current work: nonfic /MH duo book 2, chapter 1
Listening to: Bach
Reading: Sharon Penman, The Sunne in Splendour

Back from Chichester, where I had a fabulous time. Thanks to lovely Jan Jones for organising such a wonderful event. I feel really energised, full of ideas, and raring to go - but I must admit that right now I'm also completely knackered after a weekend of way too much talking and very little sleep! I think the best thing about any conference like this is the chance to meet up with old friends, and also the chance to make new ones. Right from the start, there was a real buzz about the conference. (And it’s nice to know that authorial paranoia isn’t peculiar to me… and that others have it even worse than I do.)

I did write really detailed posts every night, while I was away... but then the SD card in my PDA decided to corrupt and I lost the lot. So this is a reconstruction from two days ago: apologies for anything missing!

The journey down took me about 4 1/2 hours. I was dreading the bridge; there was a huge queue and I had to drive really slowly across it, but my attention was pretty much taken up with making sure my car didn’t get squished by maniac male drivers wanting to push into the queue, so I didn't have time to stress about where I was. Hmm. Let’s just say I'm very glad I don't have to drive on the M25 all the time. However, the weather was on my side and the scenery was incredibly pretty - especially around Arundel Castle - so I’ve suggested to DH that we should go to Sussex next summer because it looks like a wonderful area to explore.

This was the block where I was staying (my window is middle floor, right hand side of the cream bit - I know this because I leaned out of said window to bellow hello to Julie Cohen the following evening):



It had this rather unusual atrium in the middle of each landing - imagine a four-sided pyramid with convex mesh sides. Course, Nerdy Kate I-love-architecture Hardy had to do the arty pic from the ground floor...



This was my room. Much swisher (and larger) than my own room as a student!



Though I’d stupidly forgotten to pack my pillow (lovely Fiona Harper and I really did have 'pillow talk', i.e. a conversation in the bar about the best pillows - she, being younger than I am and with a better memory, brought hers), and I’d also forgotten just how lumpy and narrow student beds are. Add the electricity meter with a really fierce red light on it on the wall right at the foot of my bed (so it glared at me all night, even when I put sticky notes over it to try blocking the light), and this is why Princess Kate didn't get a great deal of sleep…

Anyway. The conference began with a welcome by Sara Craven, the RNA vice chair, in this stunning conference room - the chapel. This doesn't do justice to the glass.

Then Jan gave the conference notices:

plus celebrations and milestones, and it was really lovely to be able to celebrate shortlistings and first sales. Then it was time for the panel: Nicola Cornick, Kate Harrison, Anna Jacobs, Kate Johnson, and me.
(LTR Sara Craven, me, Anna Jacobs.)

We were talking about what romantic fiction is, and we all started by introducing ourselves and the explaining what we write and why we chose that genre. Then it was time for questions. I can remember some of the questions and my answers, but I apologise for not remembering everyone else's!

First of all, what is my favourite book in my genre? I don't think my answer would surprise anybody who knows me. It's Liz Fielding's “Gentlemen Prefer… Brunettes”, which I think is the perfect category romance. The characterisation and dialogue are wonderful, the hero is someone you want to marry, the heroine is someone you want to be your best friend, and it has a wonderful feelgood happy ending. The and because I write as two people, I cheated and chose a second with my historian hat on: Diana Norman's “The Vizard Mask”, which again has wonderful characterisation, a hero to die for, and fantastic background.

If the current hero who in my work in progress came to life and beckoned me, would I? Well, what can I say?

Course I would!!! My husband is my research assistant, so he’s the hero in my head whenever I write certain scenes. (You think this is bad? Believe me, some of the discussions over the weekend were MUCH … Oh, use your imaginations. I’m not telling. Just be aware that there is an equation: romantic novelists + wine = outrageous conversation.)

And what do I think romantic fiction is? I think it's about the journey. It's a short book, starting with the attraction, a conflict which keeps the hero and heroine parts, resolution, and the each the day.

There were other questions but from this sleep-deprived side of the weekend (the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet) I can’t remember them. Sorry. Blame my SD card.

Then it was back to the kitchen in my house with Nicola Cornick, Sarah Morgan and editor Kim Young for a cup of tea (what was I saying about outrageous conversations? I should also mention my stomach hurts from laughing too much), followed by a glass of wine in the bar.


(That is indeed a half pint glass of wine - student bar, remember? - and my great friend Kate Walker NEVER OPENS HER EYES FOR PHOTOGRAPHS. Bad Kate. And I mean her, not me.)

Then dinner (what, Kate Hardy not describing the food? Yeah, there’s a reason for that – let’s just say the Wii said I lost 2lb when I stood on it today, though that is a Very Good Thing), another drink (mineral water, because I’m such a lightweight nowadays), and then the travelling hit me and I thought I’d go to bed at 11. Though it took me ages to drop off (it really didn't help that I had some fantastic books in my goodie bag, and shh, don't tell DH, but I bought the few at the book stall as well) and I was wide awake at four. Wrote a paragraph or two of the Modern Heat. (Eaten by the SD card, sob.)

But I think this post is long enough for now. I'll tell you all about Saturday tomorrow.

conspiracy

Current work: Modern Heat duo book 1
Listening to: Colin Blunstone, Ennismore
Reading: not – am busy trying to write and smacking my head on my desk

Good things about today:
1. My ed has given me the green light for book 2 of the duo
2. My ed likes my Dear Reader letter for The Children’s Doctor’s Special Proposal
3. My ed has given me an extension on my deadline

Bad things about today:
1. I still have a sick child at home (this is the reason for the extension – arrgh, one bug after another)
2. Said child has given man flu to DH (he has been stupid and gone into work armed with Lemsips, and spreading his germs… sigh. Take as read the rant about stupid men)
3. Said child has given me her sore throat (very bad – I’m doing a talk at the RNA conference in 2 weeks. Arrgh)

Very bad things about today:
1. Sainsburys’ computer system crashed so they lost my order and did not deliver my groceries this morning
2. Because they’re so busy, they didn’t tell me that they’re not turning up and they’re not rescheduling (I had to ring to find out what was going on – they did eventually ring me and I did feel rather sorry for the poor lad charged with the task of having to soothe ruffled feathers)
3. I do my weekly shop on a Wednesday so my fridge is empty (and my throat isn’t going to handle cheese on toast for lunch… guess it’s going to be an omelette, then).
4. I can’t get the shopping myself this morning because of sick child… which means DH is going to get it tonight. His approach to my list is ‘we don’t need this, we don’t need that’ (along with adding things that we don’t need or I normally refuse to buy, for example on the grounds that fizzy drinks are junk and taste disgusting anyway – this is why I dilute proper fruit juice with carbonated water for the kids) so – oh, actually, I’ll wait for him to come home and then do it myself. Even though it means wasting loads of time in rush-hour traffic, at least I’ll get what I want. (The alternative is letting him do it and moaning at him for not getting what I asked for – he’s particularly bad with yoghurts, deciding he’ll be helpful and buy the ‘diet’ ones stuffed with additives and gelatine which are ‘on special offer’ instead of the nice organic ones I like. And then I’ll have to go and get the stuff I wanted)

Very, very bad things about today:
1. The ants are back. In my kitchen.
2. DH has put my ant bait house thingies in a ‘safe place’ (cue rant re stupid men)

I’m beginning to think that there is a conspiracy trying to stop me writing this book.

There is however one important stock in my fridge that was replenished this weekend… Guess what it is, and I’ll put you in a draw for a signed copy of my new book, The Spanish Doctor’s Love Child - the one with the lovely cover on the lefthand sidebar. (Will do the draw on Friday lunchtime - UK time.)

Right. Enough moaning. Go and see Julie Cohen and tell her how pretty her new blog is.

humbling and very, very heartwarming

Am I down from cloud nine yet?

Er… no!

I’ve been stunned by the amount of texts, phone calls, blog messages and emails I’ve received from people wishing me well and congratulating me. Thank you. Thank you all SO much. And to hear from people that they liked my book – and detailing why, so even the crows accept people mean it and are not just being kind – I’m really humbled. And heartwarmed. (That isn’t a proper word, I know. I’m, um, still in ‘dog with six tails’ mode so my vocabulary has deserted me). And I’m so very, very happy right now.

I have to keep looking at the rosebowl and just checking that it IS my name engraved there and I’m not dreaming it all.

But it’s there. (And in such company, too. It doesn’t seem possible, but my name is on the same trophy as my all-time favourite romance author – the person who’s written four out of my five favourite M&Bs. The person whose books I read when life is horrible and I want some sunshine. And she’s one of the loveliest people I know, too. I don't have to spell out that her first initial is L, do I?)

On the top of the bowl is engraved the name of the most popular Medical Romance author ever, Betty Neels, after whom the award is named. (That’s my other line - Medical romance. And I’ve been privileged to be paired with Betty Neels in French editions. And the reflection of the sheet of paper on the rosebowl? Yup, unprofessional, but I discovered that a light background shows the engraving better than a dark one.)

Just… wow.

(I’m not taking the pics to boast, by the way. The kids want to show their friends in class during ‘show and tell’ and they know they can’t take the actual rosebowl to school, so they’ve both asked for a pic. I took said pic today because a) it was quiet and b) I have the concentration span of a gnat right now and I’m too excited to write.)

And more pics from yesterday: me with lovely, lovely Jan Jones;


Me with Anna, Janet and Julie.

And (with thanks to my mate Fiona Harper, whose husband took this shot) the authors and eds on the stairs during the photoshoot before the do (the photographer was lovely and made us all laugh - superb at his job). Left to right: Fiona Harper, Lucy Gordon, Jo Carr, Maddie (oh rats, forgotten her surname, but she's lovely and one of her former authors will remind me, yes, Kate W or Michelle?); middle, Kim Young, Liz Fielding, Bryony Green, Julie Cohen (check out the glam silver shoes); me; Sheila Hodgson

busybusy

Current work: Archaeologist book, which has just grown another chapter…
Listening to: Justin Currie, What is Love For (very, very good)
Reading: The Butterfly House, Marcia Preston (enjoying it - the bits about butterflies are fascinating)

Am busy with book so am leaving you with the chance to do two things:

1. Go and see Julie Cohen – you could win a copy of the hardback of her book One Night Stand

2. (particularly for readers with children…) click on the link below for a seriously funny song – it’s everything a mum would say to her kids over the course of a day, cut down to 2 mins 55 seconds and sung to the William Tell Overture (this was sent to me by my good friend Medicals author Amy Andrews,whose 10th book, The Italian Count's Baby, is out this month - I have a copy on my TBR pile). I admit, I’m guilty of a lot of these…