Romantic Novel of the Year longlist announced

Current work: French duo book 2
Listening to: Def Leppard/Christmas compilation
Reading: (next on TBR)

The Romantic Novel of the Year longlist has been announced over at the RNA website:

The Very Thought of You, Rosie Alison
Passion, Louise Bagshawe

Beachcombing, Maggie Dana
Fairytale of New York, Miranda Dickinson
Lost Dogs and Lonely Hearts, Lucy Dillon
A Single to Rome, Sarah Duncan
A Mother's Hope, Katie Flynn
A Glimpse at Happiness, Jean Fullerton
10 Reasons Not to Fall in Love, Linda Green
Marriage and Other Games, Veronica Henry

The Glass Painter's Daughter, Rachel Hore
It's the Little Things, Erica James
I Heart New York, Lindsey Kelk
The Heart of the Night, Judith Lennox
The Italian Matchmaker, Santa Montefiore
The Summer House, Mary Nichols
One Thing Led to Another, Katy Regan
The Last Song, Nicholas Sparks
Last Christmas, Julia Williams
The Hidden Dance, Susan Wooldridge

Congrats to everyone who made the longlist; and I’m especially delighted to see some of my mates on the list, so extra-special congrats to Jean Fullerton, Rachel Hore, Judith Lennox, Mary Nichols and Julia Williams :o)

Plan for today: go buy new office chair (with good lumbar support and, ohhhh, a soft seat), guitar lesson, then visit Dad. (This week am going with a more realistic mindset, i.e. not hoping for a good visit, and will make the best of it. If he chats to me this week, it'll be a hugely welcome bonus. Bloody dementia. It's been a bit tough, coming to terms with the fact that I've more or less lost him (except for the physical shell) in the same week of the year that I lost my mum, but hey. Character-building, and all that. Hence the planning of nice things. Though the new chair is a physical necessity!!)

RNA New Writers’ Award Winner

Current work: Modern Heat
Listening to: John Butler Trio
Reading: next on TBA

Busy today (guitar lesson plus parents’ evening plus sorting out stuff with Dad’s current and somewhat prolonged blip – ah, the joys of Parkinsonian dementia) so instead of inane ramblings from moi here’s a press release from the RNA.

I love being able to report good news like this – when someone’s chased a dream and caught it. (All right, so I want to be a fairy godmother when I grow up. Just having trouble sourcing that magic wand right now.)

Anyway, big congrats to Allie Spencer.

Ex-Barrister Wins New Writers’ Award with Romantic Novel set in Chambers


The winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Joan Hessayon New Writer’s Award has clearly taken the adage “write what you know” to heart. With Tug of Love, published by Little Black Dress, Allie Spencer plumbed her career as a specialist in matrimonial law.

Her heroine is divorce lawyer Lucy. When Lucy meets Mark, it is love at first sight and would be the perfect match if his scary ex-wife, the PM’s divorce and an old flame don’t all get in the way.

Announcing the winner, judge and Chairman of the RNA, Catherine Jones, commented: “Laugh-out-loud funny, clever, and set in chambers by someone who obviously knows what she is talking about, this novel is sassy and believable with a wonderfully flawed heroine and a great supporting cast. It was a joy from first to last.”

The award was presented by bestselling author Katie Fforde at the RNA’s summer party on 13th May.

Allie felt “completely overwhelmed” and said she first got the idea for Tug of Love when she was a pupil barrister sitting outside a court in London in a very cramped waiting area. At the time, Allie had no idea she would abandon law for marriage and a career as a romantic novelist. Nor did she imagine her second full-length book would be snapped up by a publisher and go on to win an award.

Allie lives in Salisbury with her husband and two young sons. Her idols are authors PG Wodehouse and Douglas Adams and she nurtures a secret desire to be a stand-up comedian.

Meanwhile, Allie is thrilled to have won her award. “The RNA has been supremely supportive and nurturing of me, so this is extra special. Also the judges are both very experienced and successful writers so their vote of confidence counts for a lot.”

The RNA’s New Writers’ Scheme, which is generously sponsored by Dr David Hessayon in memory of his late wife Joan, who was a longstanding member, gives unpublished authors of romantic fiction the opportunity to join the Association and submit a full-length manuscript for appraisal. Promising manuscripts, if deemed ready, are passed to a suitable professional. The Joan Hessayon New Writers’ Scheme Award is given to the best of the novels accepted and published that year.

Congrats to India/RNA report (long post)

Current work: (taking a day off, as it’s my birthday)

Listening to: Joe Lynn Turner
Reading: Druin Burch, Digging up the Dead (bio of surgeon Astley Cooper – thoroughly enjoyed it, and learned some v interesting new things)

First off, congratulations to my mate India Grey on winning the RNA Romance Prize 2009 for her lovely book ‘Mistress: Hired for the Billionaire’s Pleasure’ – I’m so pleased for her! She’s a great writer AND she’s also a lovely, lovely person, so it’s well deserved.

Monday opened with freezing fog, so it was an unpleasant school run. It had all burned off by the time my taxi arrived; picked up a copy of the EDP (and lovely Emma had done me a fabulous piece) and a latte. Easy journey in (with Astley Cooper's biography - v enjoyable read); and I was pleasantly surprised when a man gave me his seat on the tube. (Either manners are improving, or I looked tired... And, as he looked to be in his early 20s, it rather chastened me to think I could technically be his mother's age. Am probably officially middle-aged now, anyway.) To M&S in Marble Arch to get some boots and then a salmon salad in their café. I always forget that the arch was built on the site of Tyburn. (Lightbulbs flickering.) And then I dodged the rain to visit the Wellcome Museum. (Medical history fascinates me. It's an area I intend to work in more in the future.) Except... Clearly I misread their website, as it turned out that the exhibitions were closed on Mondays. Spent a while enjoying their Virtal library, then headed for the café and a chance to do some work on the current synopsis. (It was pouring with rain, or I would've gone exploring.) Met Fi and Liz - dinner at Strada was scrummy, particularly the panna cotta. Much talking...

And then it was Tuesday.

So how does it feel, being on the shortlist at an awards do?

It's a real mixture of emotions. Pride (and a fair sprinkle of 'I'd better pinch myself and wake up now') that someone rates your work so highly. Delight, because you know you'll get the chance to catch up with friends you haven't seen for a while. Worry that you're going to make a fool of yourself - that you're going to spill something down yourself or fall over, while everyone's watching you. (That one’s probably personal paranoia as I’m a tad – all right, a lot – on the clumsy side.)

And then there's the moment when the chief of judges steps up to the podium and reads through the shortlist, saying what the judges thought of each. That's when your heart starts beating so hard that you're sure people will hear it. (That is humanly possible - according to Druin Burch, in Georgian London, a man once crossed the street to ask politician John Thelwall what the noise was, and his wife once woke him to say that someone was hammering on the door.)

Anyway, on Tuesday morning I was very relieved to see that the threatened snow hadn't materialised. Fi took my case, but at King's Cross I discovered that the Circle line was out of action. Caught the District line to Edgeware Rd, then luckily there was a train to High Street Kensington - and, hooray, no rain, so it was a pleasant walk to the Royal Garden Hotel.

Went to change my boots and raincoat to my shoes and posh jacket; met up with lovely Fiona Harper, Beth Elliott and Jessica Hart. (LTR - Beth, Fiona, Me, Jessica)

Poor India Grey was stuck on a train at this point - but finally made it. (Note how cool and beautiful and dignified she looks in the pic below. I'd be a gibbering wreck if my train was delayed by 90 minutes and I was on the shortlist of an awards do...)

Phil, our very witty photographer, took photos of the shortlistees; then we went through to the main area, where I had a chance to talk to my lovely editor and wonderful agent, and catch up with mates including Jan Jones,

Milly Johnson, Sara Craven, Joanna Maitland, Heidi Rice, Gill Sanderson, Julie Cohen, Ray-Anne Lutener (yeah yeah, so am namedropping) etc etc. Also lovely to meet up with new friends (waves to Jo Brown) and my lovely former editor Emma. It was a fab, fab day and many thanks to the organisers – that kind of event means a LOT of hard work beforehand, and I really appreciated it.

Lunch was utterly fab - from the table setting (and thank you to the RNA for the lovely rose they gave all the shortlisted authors)

to the food itself: Scottish salmon parfait with tuna tartar and crème fraiche caviar

followed by fillet of chicken filled with a Paris mushroom mousse, marsala cream sauce, marquis potates and sugar snap peas

and then bitter lemon tart with crème fraiche sorbet and raspberry jelly. (All beautifully presented, and beautifully cooked.)

And then it was the moment - Margaret James, chair of the judges, took the stage and our book covers all came up on the screens behind her.

Margaret has a quiet voice, so I didn't quite catch what the judges said about my book (other than the bit about my hero was even nice to the heroine's dog - so if anyone can quietly tell me, it would be appreciated) - but I was so thrilled for my mate India Grey when her name was read out as the winner of the RNA Romance Prize 2009. Congrats, India!

Judy Piatkus was given the inaugural lifetime achievement award and made a lovely speech. (Pic is Catherine Jones, RNA chair, on the left, and Judy on the right.)

Then the main award was won by Julia Gregson, who also made a moving speech.

Walked back to the Tube with my mate Carol Townsend, quick coffee, then faced tube delays back to Bloomsbury. Dinner with Fi at Liverpool Street station, and then home. And, yup, the train was delayed… But my cabbie was lovely – a book-lover with a very eclectic taste, so we had a great chat all the way home.

Today, I’m knackered! But I need to print out my manuscript for my agent, check I’ve transferred all my files, drop my PC in to my lovely tecchies, mosey into town to the Pandora shop (thank you, luvverly family and friends, who’ve clubbed together to buy the bead I really want but know is disgracefully expensive), and… well, see what I feel like and what the weather’s doing.

life in coffee spoons (aka Bad Kate)

Current work: Modern Heat
Listening to: Sibelius/Justin Currie
Reading: Bedded By the Greek Billionaire, Kate Walker – another of Kate’s trademark emotional rollercoasters, perfect for a frosty Saturday morning read – really liked the hero.

Very busy weekend. Friday afternoon, news from my wonderful ed that she loved the revisions, so my Penhally book is done and dusted and I can settle down to this one. I know this is unprofessional of me – I should be able to switch to the next book straight away, but it never flows properly until the previous one is completely put to bed.

Friday, needed to go to the post office and the bank, so went into town with DH and the kids after school/work. Huge queues into the city, so he let me out of the car at the bottom of Exchange Street… and en route to the bank I had to pass Sonkai. Well. I say ‘pass’. Of course I didn’t. And I was slightly naughty (murano glass, clear with a turquoise stripe, which DH says doesn't go with my bracelet. Hmm. Maybe I should have a selection of glass ones that I can swap round to change the colour scheme...).

Then was slightly naughtier, as Madam helped me choose a lapis lazuli pendant to go with my outfit for the awards do. (I’ve always, always wanted a lapis lazuli pendant. This is my early birthday pressie to me.) And then we went out to dinner. I could not BELIEVE how much son ate. However, I remember what DH was like when he was 20. Think son is going to be the same. Hollow legs.

DH then wanted to know where I’d like to go for dinner on my birthday. Hmm. I fancy Greek, but it has to be somewhere that does food that the kids like, too – Madam’s willing to try stuff, but son is very conservative. Seems that the second week of Feb is going to be a seriously bad week in terms of diet. Family birthday party on Sunday (is actually a joint party for Dad and me, but I’m catering it to his preferences rather than mine); dinner out with two of my oldest friends in London on Monday; the RNA awards lunch on Tuesday; birthday dinner out on Wednesday; possibly taking Dad out to lunch on Thursday; dinner out on Saturday; and it’s half term, the week after…

Prufrock may have measured out his life in coffee spoons. I think that in February mine might be measured out in, um, puddings. (Which I did not have on Friday, in case any of my diet buddies happen to be lurking here and saying in tones of horror, ‘Baaaad Kate!’ And yes, that did deserve a screamer.)

Saturday: a frosty start, and I’ve had Kate Walker’s latest on my TBR shelf for too long (this is the one that’s been shortlisted for Best Presents of 2008 by Romantic Times – congrats to Kate W). So I was a bit self-indulgent. Should’ve been working but decided to refill the well a bit first. Enjoyed it thoroughly.

Then it was a matter of settling down to work. I’m back on deadline, so the idea is that DH and the kids leave me to work unless it’s really important (i.e. not squabbles – anything that’s inspiring or interesting is fine, but ‘she poked me’ and ‘because he said I was stupid’ is not fine).

Then DH marched in to my office, brandishing the local paper. ‘You’re in the bestseller charts again.’ Huh? But I only posted the book to my editor yesterday, and it’s not out until April. How? ‘No, it’s Norwich: Street by Street.’

Wow. I’m back in the local bestseller charts with a book that’s been out for THREE YEARS. Am pinching myself slightly. I’m really proud of that book. I did a lot of research.

Wrote a chunk of the book (oh good, heroine has decided she has extra conflict); had hair cut; answered call from M-I-L and said yes, I could do a talk for her local school, but have lots of deadlines coming up so it’ll have to be end of April; and did the Big Garden Birdwatch for the RSPB with the kids. In our hour slot, we saw 3 blackbirds, 3 bluetits, 4 chaffinches, 6 collared doves, 2 great tits, 4 long-tailed tits, a robin and a great spotted woodpecker. Unfortunately, we also had another visitor to the mesh tray on the bird table – not squirrel, this time, but Rattus norvegicus (again), who appears to have a burrow under Madam’s playhouse. Sigh. Will be ringing the council this morning to sort it out. To avoid recurrent problems, we may have to change from the mesh feeder tray to a seed feeder on a hook, which is a shame. As DH said, he’s a nice-looking little fellow, and he sat there washing himself so he’s also a clean little chap. BUT. He’s a rat. (Not a water vole, because he has obvious ears, a long pink tail and a pointed nose – as opposed to ears hidden by fur, a short furry tail and a blunt nose – and he’s bigger than a vole.) We have children and a dog. So… much as I feel guilty, he has to go.

Sunday, interview with lovely Maggie Secker at BBC Radio Norfolk. Lovely chat, as always. And on the way back, I was a bit naughty… I parked at Chapelfield, which meant going through House of Fraser to get to the car park. Bearing in mind I have this awards do in a fortnight and my make-up is out of date (in both senses of the phrase), I needed some foundation. I asked which colour would suit me, and this lovely, lovely make-up artist in the Bobbi Brown concession did me a makeover. DH and kids reacted very positively when I came home. However, I didn’t buy all the make-up – I know I’m far too lazy to do it properly (eyeliner, rouge etc), so I stuck with just lippy, new eyeshadow and foundation.

Plan for today (in between school runs) : ring council about Ratty, pay bills, work, post office run.

on fictional worlds, plus news of the RNA shortlist

Current work: Norway book and nonfic
Listening to: Sibelius
Reading: Taken for Revenge, Bedded for Pleasure: India Grey (great read – loved the ‘fish out of water’ angle, and she handled it really well. Also loved the art background. Great characterisation – and her writing’s gone up a gear.)

In keeping with my new year’s resolution, I did some loafing this weekend. Went to the cinema with DH and the kids on Saturday to see Inkheart, and it was BRILLIANT. I could listen to Brendan Fraser read all day (he has a lovely voice), and I thought that Andy Serkis and Paul Bettany also played their parts really well. And Eliza Bennett did a fantastic job as Meggie. My littlest really identified with her character. Afterwards, in the restaurant, we dissected the film; even DH (who can sometimes be a little hard to please) enjoyed it.

Daughter: ‘The thing about a REALLY good book is that you do go into another world.’ (I think she might’ve worked that out for herself, though she may also have heard me say it.) ‘And the characters do leap off the page.’ (She named her favourite authors as examples.)

Then she looked at me. ‘So when you’re writing… is it like being in a different world?’ Yup. That’s why I get cross when I’m interrupted for something that isn’t urgent. Like sibling squabbles. ‘Hmm.’ Looked at me again. ‘I’d like to do that when I grow up.’ (And actually, she does write stories now. She was writing on the way to school, this morning. But usually she likes hanging round her big brother. That’s the big difference between us: I grew up as an only child, so I wrote stories instead of playing with someone.)

‘So is there a book of the film?’ Actually, we’ve just seen the film of the book. ‘Oh. Well, the book’s going to be even better, then – because they can’t film the world in your head.’ (Hmm. Does she actually pay attention to what I say, or has she worked this out for herself?) Needless to say, I have agreed to buy the book for her. And its sequel. (Both children know I will never, ever say no to buying them books. I think daughter is going to add nice notebooks to that...)

Today is day two of the new flooring. It’s SO NICE to have something other than bare (partially scavelled) concrete on my floor. And by the end of today my kitchen will almost be back to normal. Yeehah.

Today is also the day of the RNA Romantic Novel of the Year shortlist. Full details are here. Sadly, my mate Milly didn’t make it, but three cheers for her for making the longlist.

The shortlisted books are:

• Before the Storm, Judith Lennox (one of my summer hol reads last year – excellent)
• East of the Sun, Julia Gregson
• Sophia’s Secret, Susannah Kearsley (not read this one, but I did read her book ‘The Shadowy Horses’ some years back and enjoyed it hugely)
• Star Gazing, Linda Gillard
• Thanks for the Memories, Celia Ahern
• The Last Concubine, Lesley Downer

Congrats to all the shortlisters. And I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it goes to Judith Lennox, who writes wonderful books and is a thoroughly nice person to boot.

The glamorous life of an author

Current work: revisions to Penhally book
Listening to: Crowded House, Together Alone
Reading: Next on TBR pile

Picture the scene yesterday: one short, scruffy, overweight mum-of-two at her desk, dog snoring gently behind her. Have had busy morning already with school run, polishing rosebowl, and putting Sainsbury’s grocery delivery away/asking lovely driver to sort out fact that they’ve accidentally charged me for eleven punnets of raspberries. (Eleven?? We like raspberries, sure, but there are only four of us. Hmm. Might be that greedy with chocolate, but have banned it from the grocery shop.)

Open file to sort out revisions.

Then the emails start coming in. RNA’s lovely PR officer needs a pic of me for the shortlisting stuff. Hmm. I have two: the one my son took three years ago (when I was a bit thinner and my hair was shorter), or the one of me clutching the Betty Neels Rosebowl (which I had to give back yesterday, sniff). Go for the older one (last year’s pic is unsuitable, in the circumstances) and remind self that I need to lose 5 lbs before Feb 10. (Luckily it usually goes off my face first, and I have the Pandora bracelet and Radley bag to distract people from the spare tyres.)

Email from lovely ed: can you do a blog for IHP? Yep, sure. When? ‘After you give me the revisions tomorrow.’ (OK. Hint taken.)

Email from PR agency. When are you free for interviews? Can you do them over the phone? (Yes, have a loud phone and a hearing aid, can cope fine with phone as long as they don’t have handsfree the other end.)

Email from PR agency (again). Local paper wants you to do a feature – up for it? They’ll talk about your new books and the RNA shortlisting. (Yep, let me know wordcount and deadline.)

Email from PR agency (yet again). Interviews set up. Ditto feature.

Email from lovely ed: next year’s books. We’ll firm that up next week. (But in principle it was a yes. I did not mention the florist or the Venetian glass. Dear ed, if you’re reading this, please don’t worry. Is going to be verrry topical. And none of them are going to be bankers!)

Email from agent: excellent news that we can talk about the shortlisting now. How are the revisions going? (!!!)

Blimey. And that doesn’t include lovely emails from nice people saying congrats (and it would be rude of me not to reply). Or the mad emails I’ve been exchanging with some of my M&B author mates. (Especially one of my fellow shortlisters. Who has issued me a challenge. Lightbulbs are already flickering.)

Call from Dad: have I seen my interview in a local magazine? No-o-o. (He’s keeping it for me.)

Sort emails; add in the scene I was thinking about this morning before all the emails started. Decide am allowed ONE cup of coffee. Get carried away with scene and am nearly late for school run.

Do post office run on way home. Lovely Sue from post office grins, beckons kids over and leafs through local paper. ‘Recognise anyone on this page, do you?’ Groans from kids. ‘Mum, you’re in the paper AGAIN. Hang on, what’s this about helicopters?’ Helicopter parenting. ‘Eh?’ Never mind. Does not mean am taking you on helicopter. Is a Contentious Modern Issue.

While waiting for lasagne to cook (home made, ultra low fat), check Harlequin sites in case need to update PLR/ALCS records (know I need to do this from foreign copies received this week). Discover that seem to be doing what looks like world domination:

• Germany: In The Gardener’s Bed (December. Love the cover, though they still don’t look like the buttoned-up city girl and sexy gardener that were in my head. I’d like a dress like that, if I were thin.) (In the Garden of Sin… Wow, what a title.)
• France – wow, am on front page as one of their bestsellers (thank you, France), with The Greek Doctor’s New-Year Baby (January).
• UK – also The Greek Doctor’s New-Year Baby (Jan).
• Italy - One Night, One Baby (in a duet with my mate Heidi Rice).
• Holland - The Doctor’s Very Special Christmas (Nov) and One Night, One Baby (Dec. Am looking forward to seeing my copy of that – they must surely have changed my hero’s surname…).
• Denmark and Sweden: The Firefighter’s Fiancé. (Jan.) (Hmm. That probably means Finland and Norway as well – just haven’t had my copies yet.)
• US - The Greek Doctor’s New-Year Baby and One Night, One Baby (and that’s on the Waldies list for the second week running – thanks to wonderful readers who put it there), including enriched ebook edition of One Night, One Baby. Very exciting.
• Aus/NZ – Harlequin site has my Feb release available now: The Greek Doctor’s New-Year Baby.

And add to that, in the post last week I got my first ever Hebrew edition (Breakfast at Giovanni’s). Talk about thrilling.

And then next month M&B’s website will have Modern Heat’s very first Sheikh (i.e. mine) available (and what a fantastic cover – I think that’s probably my all-time fave cover now).

And of course there’s still the fact that am overexcited about being shortlisted for the RNA Romance Prize (for the third time in four years).

Blimey. Not bad for a short, scruffy, overweight mum-of-two.

The question is: how, just how, am I going to make myself glam enough to live up to this – even if it’s only for one day, next month?

I dunno. So I’m going to avoid the issue. Instead I’m going to vote for eHarlequin as the best online community in the 2008 Weblog Awards. (If you want to vote, too, hop over to http://2008.weblogawards.org/polls/best-online-community/ - and remember, you can vote once every 24 hours until 12 Jan.)

Brrrr!

Current work: revisions to Penhally book
Listening to: John Garth, cello concerti
Reading: Paul Doherty, The Field of Blood (part of his Brother Athelstan series, which I’ve enjoyed over the years and thought he’d stopped, but then discovered the two new ones and my lovely best mate bought them for me for Christmas – thank you, Fi, enjoyed this one)

Currently we’re having one of the coldest snaps in the UK for more than ten years; it’s certainly the coldest winter my children have ever known. Minus six degrees C, yesterday, on the way to school at ten past eight. Stayed at that level all the way home and didn’t get above freezing all day. However, the Met Office has pointed out that back in 1982 it was minus 27.2 degrees C in part of the UK. (Though not Norfolk – our coldest temperature recorded was minus 18.9 degrees C in 1963, before I was born; and I don’t actually remember it being that cold back in 1982. The years I remember being cold were when we had deep snow in 1978/9 and 1986/7 – the latter made worse by BT engineers being on strike, in the years before we had mobile phones, so I had to walk miles in the snow to find a working phone box to check that Dad was OK. I remember that January very well, as that was the winter my mum died.) Madam didn’t have swimming last night as the boiler broke and the pool was too cold for the littlies to go swimming.

Apparently the cold snap is going to last all week, and in London the fountains in Trafalgar Square have frozen. Though this is NOTHING compared to the weather our ancestors faced. In 1827 it was cold enough freeze the mere (lake) at Diss to the point where they actually played a cricket match on the ice. Then we have the winters of 1683-4 and 1739-40, which were the coldest on record. And the Thames frost fairs… I still can’t get my head around the fact that a tidal river would freeze so deeply that people could put up stalls on the ice. (Ooh, lightbulb… No. Bad me. I’m on deadline.)

It’s been a very pretty drive through the back roads to school, with spiky white verges, zebra-striped ridge-and-furrowed fields and a huge primrose-yellow sun; though the roads haven’t been nice. Lots of black ice. Visiting Dad (which I should have done this morning) means driving three miles down ungritted, single-track roads. As I’m still feeling a bit wiped by the virus, I’m not up to facing what would be a vile drive. I feel horrible about disappointing him by not visiting, but he’s been very understanding about it. I’ve sent him a couple of surprises in the post, so hopefully that will cheer him up. (Better ring the home to tell them what I’ve done, so one of the carers can point out the message for him and he doesn’t panic that he’s been sent stuff and doesn’t know why!)

Oh, and some excellent news: my floor is going to be fixed, at last, on Monday and Tuesday. Have shifted guitar to accommodate it – but not cancelled, mind. This year, I want to improve my playing, which took a bit of a backslide last year. Great lesson, yesterday. I suggested that I went back to basics, as I haven’t practised for ages, and while Jim was making me a coffee I started messing about and playing variations on the melody of the simple piece I was supposed to be doing. So then he made me look at the bass and see how and why I’d change that. I really enjoy lessons where we do tecchy stuff, because it helps me lift my game.

Thanks to everyone who’s left me a message here or emailed me privately about the RNA Romance Prize shortlisting. I’m still chuffed to bits about it.

Righty. Time to brave my revisions...

Exciting news!

Current work: revisions to Penhally book
Listening to: various classical
Reading: Paul Doherty, The Field of Blood

I’ve been teasing everyone for weeks about having a secret. Finally, I can share. In fact, I’ll let the press release do it for me:

Romance Prize celebrates shorter fiction alongside the Romantic Novel Of The Year

The Romantic Novelists’ Association, who will announce the shortlist for the Romantic Novel of the Year award on 13th January, is also honouring writers of shorter romances such as those published by Harlequin Mills and Boon.

“Although both awards celebrate novels with a high romantic content,” explains Catherine Jones, Chairman of the RNA, “the Romance Prize honours the most memorable stories set around a single theme that concentrates on the developing love affair.”

The Romance Prize will be presented at the RNA’s Awards Lunch on 10th February 2009 at the Royal Garden Hotel, Kensington. The winner will be selected from the following books:

What's Love Got to Do With It? - Lucy Broadbent (Little Black Dress, Headline)
The Wild Card - Beth Elliott (Robert Hale)
Mistress: Hired for the Billionaire's Pleasure - India Grey (Harlequin Mills & Boon)
Sold to the Highest Bidder - Kate Hardy (Harlequin Mills & Boon)
Saying Yes to the Millionaire - Fiona Harper (Harlequin Mills & Boon)
Promoted to Wife and Mother - Jessica Hart (Harlequin Mills & Boon)

Fiona Harper has been short-listed before, and both Jessica Hart and Kate Hardy are past winners. Kate Hardy, who won in 2008 with Breakfast at Giovanni’s, had this to say: "Winning the Romance Prize has been the highlight of my career to date, and it's certainly opened up opportunities. I'm very proud to have won the award and to be part of the RNA - and have been delighted by messages of support over the year. I even had a personal letter of congratulations from the chancellor of the University of Leicester!"

The shortlist will be judged by Margaret James, creative writing teacher for the London School of Journalism and regular columnist with Writing Magazine; Paul Reizin, writer, producer and journalist; and Linda Leatherbarrow, prize-winning short story writer, reviewer and MA lecturer at Middlesex.

________________________

So now, finally, I can say congrats to my fellow shortlistees!

I’m especially pleased about being shortlisted with this book, because Sold to the Highest Bidder is set in my favourite part of the world, i.e. where I live. And now I can confess why the third bead on my Pandora bracelet is a pointsettia that looks like an iris: it’s one of my heroine’s favourite flowers, and Lissy is a horticultural lecturer who wants to restore the lost gardens of her family home. Jack, the hero, buys her some gorgeous jewellery based on an iris, and how he proposes to her… Well. You’ll have to read it. But let’s just say that the heroine shares my taste in flowers, and that particular bead suited the book very well.

I’m not expecting to win. (I mean, two years in a row? That’d be greedy.) But I’m really looking forward to being in London, the day before my birthday, drinking champagne with my agent and my editor and having a lovely lunch at a wonderful hotel. Especially as I’m staying in London the night before; I’m planning a trip to the Hunterian museum and then meeting up with my best friend.

Definitely a nice start to the new year.

Ring out the old

Today’s a day for looking back. What kind of a year has 2008 been?

Workwise

It’s been great.

• For Modern Heat, I wrote Surrender to the Playboy Sheikh and Playboy Boss, Pregnancy of Passion, plus a little bit of my current one (aka the reindeer/Norway book)
• For Medicals, I wrote The Greek Doctor’s New Year Baby, The Children’s Doctor’s Special Proposal and The Heart Surgeon’s Proposal (in the Penhally series)
• On the nonfiction front, I wrote Scandals, Sieges and Spooks: Norfolk Ghosts and Legends, plus about two-thirds of The Little Book of Norfolk, and am working on two others (the Suffolk follow-up to Norfolk Ghosts, plus How To Explore a Medieval Church for How To Books).

I was also Norfolk’s ‘writer in residence’ for the National Year of Reading 2008, which was a real honour. I had a ball talking in schools and at libraries, and achieved a personal ambition because I actually cut the ribbon and opened the new school library at Wicklewood. (How cool is that? I still haven’t quite got over it.)

But best of all were the two career highlights. The big one was winning the RNA Romance Prize 2008 with Breakfast at Giovanni’s (US title: In Bed With Her Italian Boss). I wasn’t expecting it and it was just wonderful. I was also shortlisted for the inaugural East Anglian Book Awards with Heroes, Villains and Victims of Norwich. That kind of accolade from the publishing world, together with the lovely reader letters I’ve had this year telling me how much people enjoyed my books, nice reviews, and the emails and letters I had over the year from people congratulating me on the award/shortlisting, and the way everyone cheered spontaneously at the M&B party in September when Karin Stoecker listed the year’s highlights and mentioned Gio… that’s really made my year. The fact that I’ve achieved something, and people have been genuinely pleased for me.

Personally

2008 vies with 1986-7 for being the worst year of my life. Not going into details, but I’m very glad to see the back of this year. I managed to smile my way through it, most of the time, pretending that everything was hunky-dory when it really wasn’t at all because one crisis hit after another. This summer, when we had a lot of major things happen in the space of two weeks, was spectacularly horrible. So I’d like to say a special thank you to the people who were so kind and supportive in the darkest bits of the year – those who sent me cards and emails and pictures just to make me smile, those who gave me real and cyber hugs, those who sent me books and chocolate and music to distract me, and those who were careful not to lean on me because they realised I was completely out of emotional resources and just couldn’t give anything more/be a listening ear the way I normally am. I appreciated every single one of you: I truly am blessed with my family and friends. (And I hope the people concerned know I would do the same for them, if the situation were reversed.)

So how did I do with my goals?

The first one was exercise. It was fine for the couple of days until Dad went into hospital – and then, as my life for the next month became “school run, hospital, school run, help with homework and sort dinner, try frantically to keep work ticking over so I don’t end up in a financial mess, rely on husband to do much more than his far share to keep house ticking over”… I really didn’t have the time. And it didn’t get much better after Dad was out of hospital. I spent the whole year running to stand still, metaphorically. (Sadly, metaphors and worrying don’t burn calories. Or I would be fit and substantially thinner.)

Second was weight management. See above.

Third was writing. This was a three-pronged one. Firstly, I wanted to merge my ‘Modern Heat voice’ and ‘Medical Romance voice’ and grow my ‘brand’ (aka hot weepies with a real-world, warm feel to them). I think I’ve managed it, but the reason I hope so is embargoed at the moment. (I will spill the beans, the minute I’m allowed to!) Secondly, the project I really wanted to work on: it fell between the cracks because Real Life got severely in the way, and it was just too much to cope with, even for me in Superwoman mode. (I had to shift deadlines, as it was; my publishers were all very kind and understanding, but I still hated having to be in that position. It felt like failure.) Thirdly, I wanted to sell another local history book by the end of the year – actually, I sold three, and the next three or four years’ books are pencilled in with Breedon. So I think that goal can count as pretty much achieved.

Three goals. Two flops, one achieved. Yup, about the same as last year. Need to set smarter goals, methinks.

pleasures (and a big congratulations!)

Current work: nonfic and Modern Heat
Listening to: Kate Rusby
Reading: Next on TBR

First off, the congratulations. Somehow, Kate Dopey didn't read the RNA longlist properly. And she missed noticing an important name. (Big slap.)

So please go over to my mate Milly Johnson's blog and congratulate her, because she's on the longlist for the RNA Romantic Novel of the Year 2009 with THE BIRDS AND THE BEES (which I thoroughly enjoyed, back in March. I think she needs to stop slacking and write faster so I don't have to wait a year between her books - got that, Milly? *g*)

Pleasures - well, Michelle was talking about guilty pleasures, last week. The little things that make life so wonderful.

Some of mine are quite similar to hers. The only thing is, I don’t actually feel guilty about mine. (So either I'm a hedonist or I'm well adjusted. Or even both.)

Here, in no particular order, are seven of my favourite pleasures.

Romance novels. Not just because I write them. I really, really enjoy reading them. What I look for is a story with a hero I could fall in love with, a heroine I’d like to be friends with, witty dialogue (oh, how I envy Liz Fielding’s deft touch here), a good plot (I like a bit of external conflict to mirror the internal conflict) and that little touch of magic that takes me into a different world for an hour or so. (Sixty minutes for a book? Um. I’m a fast reader. And when I’m under the weather, I’ll go to bed early and then read three or four in an evening. Greedy. But good for the soul.)

Chocolate. I’m going to be specific here. Gianduja – which is a mix of ground hazelnuts and cocoa butter. It’s the stuff I referred to as ‘better than sex’ chocolate in my London City General trilogy. (I sent my editor some, because she didn’t believe me. Immediate convert.) It’s also very rich, so I can’t overindulge. So actually, it’s probably quite good for dieting, despite the fact that it doesn’t have the catechins that you get in dark chocolate (70%). This stuff is good for the soul.

Music. Whether it’s a snatched ten minutes playing the piano or the guitar, or listening to something on the radio or CD – music is one of the great joys of my life. Especially now I can hear it properly: my hearing aid has made a huge difference to my life. I have a very eclectic taste, from classical to jazz to rock to pop. (I’m not admitting to how many CDs I have. Let’s just say that there are 5 full floor-to-ceiling cabinets in my living room, and a few CDs more scattered round.) One of the wonderful things about writing and using a playlist for inspiration is that several of my friends do the same. Take a bow India Grey, Ray-Anne Lutener, Jill Shalvis and Michelle Styles for introducing me to some wonderful music.

Coffee. OK. I know it’s not good for me. But I adore lattes. I don’t overindulge (it’s only on days when I’m in the city or on a research trip and my research team demand payment in chocolate cake in the nearest café, so it averages out at one or two a week) but a good latte is utter pleasure. (Especially when a bacon sandwich accompanies it…)

Baking. It’s something I loved doing with my late mother, and something I love doing with my children. Experimenting. Reading recipes and adapting them. Madam’s godmother bought her a set of cookery cards last year, and my daughter makes wonderful brownies. The scent of vanilla, cinnamon or chocolate in a warm kitchen… now, that’s pleasure. (And yes, of course taste-testing everything when it’s still warm from the oven. Though that probably should be a guilty pleasure.)

Ruins. Actually, in this category you also need to add stately homes, castles and churches (albeit not in a ruined state). I love visiting them. Fossicking. Finding the hidden treasures (especially stained glass windows and brasses). I get to call this ‘research’ and ‘work’ (which it is, for my nonfic), but it’s truly a pleasure. Especially when my entire research team comes with me and we make it a family trip.

The sea. I live about forty minutes away from one of the nicest stretches of coast – north Norfolk. If I’m feeling out of sorts, the best thing I can do is go to the sea and walk along the beach, with the wind whipping through my hair (winter is my favourite for this) and the sea swishing beside me. And one of my greatest pleasures is walking on the beach, hand in hand with the love of my life, watching our children racing along the sand in front of us. (OK, so I’m mushy. I’m a romance author. I believe in living the dream – in looking for the good things in life rather than dwelling on the bad. Not a head-in-the-sand approach: just not letting the bad stuff weigh me down.)

This is a meme of sorts, but as it's a busy time of year I'm not going to pick on anyone. But enquiring (all right, nosey) minds would like to know: what are your simple (or guilty) pleasures? Tell me here, or put a link to your blog so I can come and be nosey!

Plan for today: writing, and making tea for the builders. (Still not going to be straight before Christmas. But we're on the way.)

does romance ruin your love life?

Current work: nonfic and Modern Heat
Listening to: Take That
Reading: Next on TBR

Had an interesting call yesterday from BBC Radio Norfolk – would I talk on the breakfast show about the new research showing that romance ruins your love life?

So I duly went and found said research, to make sure I knew what I was talking about. Actually, the study from Heriot-Watt covers films, TV and magazines as well as books, and the sample appears to be college students. (At 18, we all have unrealistic expectations – which is absolutely right at that age. Go for the dream.) The finding is that romance as it’s portrayed in the media gives people unrealistic expectations.

I had a lovely time chatting to Stephen Bumfrey on BBC Radio Norfolk’s breakfast show this morning (in the five minutes before my school run started!). As a romance author, what do I think of these findings?

My take: apart from the fact that those findings fit that particular group and you cannot say that it applies to people in a different age group or from a different background (because your sample doesn't contain anyone from the wider group and therefore doesn't represent them or their views), it’s pretty insulting to my readers, who DO know the difference between fantasy and reality.

People read my books for entertainment. They know that what they’re going to get from a Kate Hardy novel is a warm, realistic romance that will take them into another world for as long as they choose (whether it’s a snatched ten minutes at lunchtime or an hour’s read before bed – and there’s other research from a larger, broader sample showing that over 90% of keen readers will read in bed). My book will give them a hero they can fall in love with, a heroine they can identify with, and a happy ending. Something that’s possibly (probably) going to make them bawl their eyes out at one point (and actually that might be a good excuse to let out some tension), but in the end the characters will get their happy ending.

My characters have to work for their happy endings (just as you would in real life). They have to communicate and compromise and change (just as you do in real life). I won the RNA Romance Prize earlier this year, and I only twigged that the winning book might be mine when Trisha Ashley described it as ‘warm and realistic with a believable happy ending’ – because that’s how my agent and my editors describe my work. On the eHarlequin review section, the words that leap out at me from what my readers say are phrases such as ‘it really could happen’… ‘the most realistic discussion of trust I’ve ever read in a romance novel’ (and I’m so pleased that my readers are clearly enjoying what they read). So I'd say my work is realistic.

In a romance novel, the whole thing is about the relationship. Two people meet (character), there are reasons why they don’t get together (conflict), and at the end they overcome the obstacles (resolution). To reach that resolution, they have to communicate, compromise and change – just like real life. Unrealistic? I don’t think so. To make any relationship successful (whether it’s romantic or family or friends or business), you need to communicate and compromise. Otherwise it’s unequal and one person in the relationship is going to feel resentful, and it will damage the relationship.

Then there’s this idea about falling in love immediately. Now, I have 50,000 words or thereabouts to tell my story. My books cover a period of weeks or months (and I might sneak in an epilogue a year later). If I described every event in the relationship in minute detail, as if it happened in real life, I would run out of space – and it would also bore my readers stupid. The point of my books is to entertain. It’s drama. Conversations in books aren’t like real-life conversations: their purpose is to move the plot forward or shed light on characters. In real life, it takes time for people to fall in love. It’s exactly the same for my books: I just don’t show you every minute in between.

But the thing that will always stick in my mind is what a reader said to me a couple of years back: when she’s having a bad day, she reads one of my books and comes out the other side remembering that the world is a good place after all. To be able to put sunshine into someone’s life like that is a real privilege. And I know exactly where she’s coming from; when real life gets difficult for me, I head for my Liz Fielding shelf. Those few minutes to myself, lost in another world, are what help me cope. Romantic fiction doesn’t give me unrealistic expectations at all. It’s entertainment, it’s enjoyable, and it puts a smile on my face. Which, to my way of thinking, is a Very Good Thing.

for procrastinators

Current work: nonfic and Modern Heat
Listening to: Take That
Reading: Sara Craven, The Santangelis Marriage (enjoyed this one - and the evil grandmother is a stunner of a secondary!)

Fabulous tool here, nicked from the wonderful Kate Harrison, especially for procrastinators. (Like me, at the moment. Won’t work for my nonfic as I need to stop every so often and do a bit of research. But it’s very good for kickstarting fiction.)

As my soundcard isn’t working at the moment (which is probably good because it stops me going onto YouTube to look up stuff – ha, should’ve added that to my article on time management for the RNA magazine, Romance Matters), I can’t hear the evil sound. But it’s still a good tool. (Note to my friend and utter speed merchant Nicola Marsh – Nic, you DO NOT need this. You already write six million words a day.)

As for the weekend: had a fab time. Great dinner out (and I got the expected tearful call at 9.30, bless); spent Saturday writing Christmas cards (I’m horribly late) and wrapping the remainder of pressies; and Sunday was just wonderful, early Christmas with my favourite uncle and aunt (roast beef and trimmings, crackers, and much laughter and game playing) and then Dad and my stepmum coming round for tea (hot buttered crumpets).

Plan for today: probably builders. Definitely a trip to the post office. Book my train ticket for London. Change my heroine’s name (which is why the book doesn’t work – her name is a problem and I think her appearance, too). Get cracking…

Oh yes – and the longlist for the RNA award has been announced – go here to find out more. (I’m cheering on Judith Lennox. I enjoyed ‘After the Storm’ very much, and she’s an autobuy author for me.)

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.

off to Chichester

Off to the RNA conference today, amid much family nagging.

Dad: I’m not happy about you driving all that way on your own.
Me, sighing: Dad, I used to travel a lot in my ratrace days. I’ve driven to Scotland on my own. I’ve tackled Glasgow in the rush hour. I’ll be fine. (Deliberately ignores fact will have to drive over the Dartford Bridge – am a tad wary of suspension bridges.)

DH: Have you got your route map printed out?
Me: Yes. (Fishing it out to prove it.) And I’ve printed out a short version to remind me which roads to look out for.
DH: Change for the toll. (Hands over coins.) And you’ve got some cash?
Me: I’m stopping at the cashpoint this morning.
DH: Phone charger?
Me, coughing: I have a packing list on my desk…

Honestly. Organisation is one of my major strengths, and they all know it. And it’s not that bad – it’s two hundred miles each way. Admittedly, I’m not used to motorway driving – more used to tiny narrow roads where you end up scraping the car in the hedge because White Van Man has to drive in the centre of the road – but I’m perfectly capable of doing this.

I think this is their way of saying they’re going to miss me.

Back on Monday with a full report of the conf and pics.

Oh, and ‘on the huh’ means ‘wonky, not straight’. Sadly, I don’t know the derivation and the Net isn’t helpful. But if you want to know what a real Norfolk accent sounds like (as opposed to the West Country mishmash that’s used on TV), go over to the Friends of Norfolk Dialect home page and listen to the sound files.

nostalgia

Current work: nonfic
Listening to: Kathryn Williams
Reading: Sharon Penman, The Sunne in Splendour

Yesterday was one of those days where I was busy all day but didn’t have words on the page to show for it. Mainly admin – but then lots of PR stuff. As in calls from the press to discuss the new book. (And lots of apologies from me for coughing down the phone. At least my head’s clear today. Please, please, let the cough go by Friday. Or I’m going to be apologising to a roomful of romantic novelists as well.)

Actually, I love chatting to journalists, especially freelancers. I do miss my old freelancing days, particularly interviewing experts. I used to talk to such interesting people. And although this is my dream job, it can get lonely from time to time. Ha. Says the woman who’s been desperate for five minutes’ peace and quiet to work. ‘Be careful what you wish for’, indeed. I did consider trying to get a hot date for lunch, but DH is too busy this week. Most of the conversation I get during the day consists of ‘woof’ – admittedly, I then have to interpret that as ‘oi, the postman’s just knocked, answer the door’ or ‘there’s a sparrow on my lawn’ or ‘there’s a C-A-T on the other side of the street’, but at the end of the day it’s still ‘woof’. So I am really looking forward to the RNA conference this weekend, despite the fact I’m getting butterflies about my talk.

I’d also been catching up with various bits when it also occurred to me that maybe I ought to tell the University of Leicester about the RNA Romance Prize, just in case they wanted to mention it in the annual alumni magazine.

This is the difficulty of PR for the novelist – particularly for an English one. The natural English reserve means that telling people about something you’ve done feels pushy and as if you’re boasting. But if you don’t tell people, you don’t get the publicity and it doesn’t give your career the boost said achievement is supposed to give. Maybe I need some lessons in How To Do Chutzpah. (Offers, anyone?)

Anyway, the staff in the alumni office were really delighted for me and sent me some lovely emails. They also mentioned it to their colleagues in the library and the press office, and then suddenly it went from being a fairly quiet little off-the-cuff email to a fully blown press release. Kate Hardy, Meeja Tart.

But I’m really chuffed that my old uni feels proud enough of me to do a press release about me. I loved my time at Leicester. Best decision I ever made, to go there – even though my school was cross with me for putting Leicester above Cambridge on my UCCA form. ‘It’s not done.’ Ha. I did it for a reason: I wanted to go there. The staff and the course were fantastic. My only regret is that when it came to the specialist subject in the third year, Dialect wasn’t one of the options (it had been, the previous year), and the one I chose originally didn’t run because not enough people signed up for it. (It was on the ubi sunt motif – well, yeah, you knew I’d pick something obscure, didn’t you? Something that involved, um, history?) But hey, I got to spend a year studying Thomas Hardy in depth. And yes, that is indeed why I am Kate Hardy, romance novelist.

This summer, it’s half my lifetime ago since I graduated. Scary. Doesn’t feel like five minutes. Also doesn’t feel like five minutes since the children were babies (note I didn’t say tiny – neither of them were), and my eldest has recently discovered that if he stands on tiptoe he’s an inch taller than I am. Ha. Now that’s cut me down to size :o)

Winning Romance Prize icing on the cake for Mills & Boon’s centenary celebration

This is a press release I just have to share...

In the week of celebrating 100 years of publishing romance, Mills & Boon also took the Romance Prize 2008, awarded to author Kate Hardy by the Romantic Novelists’ Association.

All six shortlisted books were published by Mills & Boon, to the delight of executives Randall Toye, Karin Stoecker and Linda Fildew, who attended the Awards Lunch on 4th February at the Royal Garden Hotel.

In the winning novel, Breakfast at Giovanni’s, recently-fired Fran takes on a new job, but also finds herself pretending to be her boss's adoring girlfriend in order to get his matchmaking family off his back. But when the kisses start happening in private, Fran discovers that breakfast at Giovanni’s has a whole new meaning.

Winner Kate Hardy was thrilled. “It's such a huge accolade - it's a real high point in my career. It's the only award for category romantic fiction in the UK, and I can’t believe my name is engraved on the Betty Neels Rosebowl along with authors such as Liz Fielding, a writer whose books I've enjoyed so much over the years. I haven't stopped smiling for a week!”

Breakfast at Giovanni’s is Kate’s 25th novel for Mills & Boon and she was ‘over the moon’ to win in the Centenary year. Kate lives in Norwich with her husband, two children, a very soppy spaniel and too many books to count. She's been writing for Mills & Boon since 2001, having known her career choice from a very early age - her first typewriter was a present for her sixth birthday. Following an English degree, Kate worked in marketing communications for ten years before going freelance. She also writes bestselling local history books.

Judge Trisha Ashley, who presented the award, said of the winning book: “Because myself and my fellow judges are all novelists, we tend to read other people's work with an inner critic pointing out weaknesses. But we were all in agreement that this book was so warm, believable and engaging, that not only did we entirely forget our inner critics, we couldn't put it down until we got to the very end.”

[Words like that, said about my book, put me straight back into dog-with-six-tails mode. Whoops, nearly forgot the important bit – if you want to interview me, contact Katrina Power at Midas Public Relations on 020 7590 0802 or katrina.power@midaspr.co.uk]

[And especially for US readers: this book will be available in shops in April as 'In Bed with Her Italian Boss', and from eHarlequin in March.]

Johnny Depp and Pierce Brosnan make Romantic Novelists’ hearts throb

Members of the Romantic Novelists’ Association have voted Johnny Depp as the Number One Perfect Romantic Hero in a poll to mark Valentine’s Day. According to these authors, a romantic hero should be gorgeous, deliciously sexy, intensely masculine and have a commanding presence.
‘We should be qualified to judge,’ one writer commented. ‘After all, we create these heroes on paper every day.’

The top ten male celebrities voted the Perfect Romantic Hero were:

1. Johnny Depp
2. Daniel Craig
3. Sean Bean
4. Richard Armitage
5. Hugh Jackman
6. Colin Firth
7. Alan Rickman
8. Pierce Brosnan
9. George Clooney
10. David Tennant

A second poll, taken by members of the RNA bravely admitting to being ‘over a certain age’, voted for male celebrities over fifty who’ve ‘still got it’. Remarkable for his appearance on both polls, Pierce Brosnan took the crown for the over fifties by a huge margin.

The top ten Over-Fifty Perfect Romantic Heroes were:

1. Pierce Brosnan
2. Harrison Ford
3. Ranulph Fiennes
4. Bill Nighy
5. Liam Neeson
6. Sam Neill
7. Sean Connery
8. Peter O’Toole
9. Clint Eastwood
10. Omar Sharif

And who did I vote for?

(Think that's obvious!)

still in dog-with-six-tails mode

Current work: TCVB (honestly, I really will do some writing today – I’ve nearly calmed down enough to work) and proofs of Norwich HVV
Listening to: various cello pieces
Reading: next on my TBR pile

… though life is getting back to normal. (Sort of.) We haven’t yet had the family celebratory dinner – Tuesday evening was parent-teacher consultation (and it seems my daughter is bright but lazy. How? How? HOW can she be lazy, when her mother is a workaholic?); last night I think my lack of sleep was finally catching up on me; and tonight we have a meeting about son’s residential trip (three days away at one of these activity centres that does abseiling and wet, muddy, tough-guy stuff) and need to move furniture ready for the new stuff that’s being delivered tomorrow. If it arrives early enough we’ll go out tomorrow night; and if not it’ll be Saturday.

I did, however, have lunch out yesterday with my lovely ex-PTA friends. (Waves to Jo – thank you for the champagne!) And I have major puppy envy as my friend Sarah has this gorgeous, gorgeous Westie puppy and I met him today…

Ahem. And I did some PR stuff. Here is the official photo, thanks to the RNA. And I love what they put as a trailer in the local paper: ‘Our heroine gets her fairytale ending’. That’s just so lovely!



And I had some GORGEOUS flowers from my agent – the same shade of pink as I was wearing on Monday! (Roses and gerberas and freesias and lilies. Just lovely.)

I’ve been thinking about buying myself something to keep to commemorate the RNA Romance Prize. Most of my friends are convinced that I’m going to buy yet another Radley signature handbag… Well, I thought about it. But actually, I’d like something a little more visual.

I’d like a painting.

A special one.

Something that reminds me of Breakfast at Giovanni’s: so it’ll be compact (as in a 50,000-word book is compact) - and warm and realistic. (I am still really, really pleased about that description.)

And it needs to be made in Norfolk. Just like my book was.

Which means I’ll be moseying round local galleries for a while. I think I know what I want, but the exact painting will choose me. It’s likely to be a seascape (aka North Norfolk, my favourite place in the world). 0r poppy fields, or maybe a windmill and/or sunrise/sunset over the Broads. Whatever: it definitely needs a proper Norfolk sky.

I like David Dane’s work but, apart from the fact his paintings are snapped up the second they go on exhibition, I have a feeling he’s out of my price range. I really like the one at the bottom of this page and lots on this page. I also REALLY like Gerard Stamp – check out the Marshscape exhibition, which has utterly fabulous use of the light - but he’s *definitely* out of my price range, and anyway those paintings are bigger than what I have in mind.

So. Something special. About ten inches by twelve. Quite traditional (my main love is Victorian art). And something that will make me smile every time I look up from my computer screen. Watch this space…

It’s also the M&B party in London tonight to celebrate the centenary. Unfortunately, I can’t make it (DH is busy at work and short-staffed so it’s not fair to ask for another two days, i.e. today and tomorrow because I wouldn’t be able to get a train home). So I’ll be raising a cup of coffee to them all at home, and look forward to a full report from my friends. Am sure they are going to have a BRILLIANT time.

And I'll reiterate that I am very proud to write for a publisher that's been going for 100 years and brought so much pleasure to so many people over those 100 years. Congratulations to Mills & Boon. Here’s to the next 100 years.

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

The RNA Awards Lunch (long post!)

It's late, I'm not long home from London (the train was late) and I'm a bit wired, so I've made myself a cup of tea... and as I know a few people are dying to hear what happened...

What an amazing weekend.

The journey to London was fine (especially as I got to read Julia Williams’ lovely debut, Pastures New) and had a lovely meal out that evening with my best friend and another of our oldest friends from university.

Monday dawned bright and sunny, and I headed in to town. Met up with my fellow Modern Heat author Heidi Rice for coffee at St Pancras (waves to Heidi - thank you for the coffee), then off to Kensington to find the hotel. Met lovely Roger Sanderson on the high street and then Ray-Anne; and the second we walked in (on the red carpet)... Wow! As one of the shortlisted authors I was suddenly very busy doing photo calls and interviews. Met up with loads of people I knew - lovely in particular to see Jan again - and all the hugs and congrats on the shortlisting were so very much appreciated.

It was lovely to see my fellow shortlisters too - Liz Fielding, Fiona Harper and Julie Cohen (I'll post Julie's pic a little further down the page ... well, you'll see why when you get there). Lucy Gordon somehow managed to escape my camera lens!

Saw my lovely editor Sheila and my wonderful agent Dot. Then in for lunch - and all the shortlisted authors had the most beautiful deep red single rose with a very sweet message from Catherine Jones, the RNA chair. That was such a lovely, thoughtful touch.

The staff all had very smart uniforms and white gloves, and the way they came into the dining room was sheer pageantry.

Lunch was scrummy. Now, I thought either Lucy Gordon or Liz Fielding would win... But just in case there were more photos afterwards (and because I am very clumsy and prone to spilling things) I decided to pass on the tomato and cumin soup. The guinea fowl was lovely, as was the mulled wine soufflé with plum ice cream.

And then it was time for the winners of the Romance Prize to be announced. Trisha Ashley was the chair of judges and told us what they thought of the shortlisted books. They described Breakfast at Giovanni’s as ‘warm and engaging’, which pleased me hugely. The judges said their decision was unanimous and I was getting ready to applaud the winner... and then Trisha mentioned the word ‘warm’ again. Followed by ‘realistic ending’.

Now, this is what my editor and agent always say about my books. Warm with a 'real life' feel.

And even as I was thinking, ‘no, it can’t be,’ Trisha announced that the winner of the Romance Prize 2008 was...

Kate Hardy.

It took a few moments to sink in. (As you can see from the pic below… - me saying to my lovely ed Sheila, did they really say me? , Karin Stoecker and Liz Fielding)


I remember welling up. I don’t remember getting on the stage and Trisha handing me the Betty Neels rosebowl.



But then it was me and the microphone. Making a speech.



I did manage to thank my wonderful editor and agent and my husband and the judges. I wasn’t expecting to win so I hadn’t prepared a speech. I really should also have thanked the RNA, certain authors who took me under their wing when I was a newly published M&B author (Liz Fielding, Jenny Haddon and Kate Walker), my mum (who always said I’d make it and I wish I could share this with her in person as well as spirit), my fellow shortlisted authors and my readers (without whom I wouldn't be here). So I’m saying thank you now and apologising for my poor manners.

I was just so proud and so thrilled that the words wouldn’t come out properly - they did come straight from the heart, though. I remember people clapping, and people came up to me afterwards to say they had a lump in their throat or I’d reduced them to tears (ha, Kate Hardy’s trademark weepie strikes again).

Helen Lederer made a fabulous speech (she was witty and sweet and judged the length perfectly rather than rambling – judging by this standard, her book will be v enjoyable), and the Romantic Novel of the Year Award went to Freya North, who made a gorgeous speech.

And then it was more photographs and interviews, and when the journalists realised I hadn’t had a chance to tell Gerry and the kids, they persuaded me to ring him. Gerry was driving the kids home from school, so I spoke to son, who relayed the message and there were all these screams and cheers from husband and kids... Just fantastic.

I got a chance to share a hug with my wonderful, supportive agent. (Apparently my speech made her cry. But she deserves her share of the glory and I was jolly well going to make sure she got it.)



And with my fellow shortlisted author Julie Cohen (now you can see why I didn't post this one earlier - would've given the game away a bit).


Thank you to everyone who came up to me and congratulated me. And to the RNA. (And to all the nice people in the pub afterwards who bought me drinks, and the guy with the guitar who came up and shook my hand - very appropriate, given what my lovely Giovanni does for a living.)

Then I met Fi, had something to eat at Liverpool Street, then caught the train home. In London, people tend to avoid your eye on the tube. But I think they saw the rose and the helium balloons and the wide smile on my face and judged correctly that I was celebrating - and they all smiled back at me.

It's been such a very special day. Up there with my wedding and the days my children were born and the day my first M&B was accepted. And it's my proudest career achievement to date.

Thank you.