Award-winning author of Regency romance, contemporary romantic comedy, novellas. Also serials and short stories for women's magazines, poems for the small press, and anything else that might sell.
. Due to the unaccountable absence of any liqueur chocolates in either my birthday bag or under the tree, I felt impelled to visit Waitrose this morning and browse the sale bay. (That and the fact that we only had an inch of milk left in the fridge.)
Have now spent another £2 of my birthday money and feel nicely mollified. There were bigger boxes, but I do love these miniature chocolate bottles with an appreciable amount of liquid inside.
So, what didn't you get this Christmas and what are you going to do about it? .
. Longlist time! This is for the RNA Romantic Novel of the Year 2010 and there are some terrific names on it.
Who am I going to be rooting for though? There are my RNACambridge pals Judith Lennox and Mary Nichols (how good is that - a tiny chapter and TWO longlisters!)
There are also chums Julia Williams, Jean Fullerton, Veronica Henry and Sarah Duncan. And lots of other good books too. I foresee the Santa's Christmas book sack straining at the seams.
. Lovely RNACambridge Christmas lunch on Wednesday, with a whole bunch of talented mates, food, wine and a Secret Santa as well. I had every intention of taking photos, but then I got so involved with the million conversations all going on at once that I, er, forgot. So no pic of us in all our finery, I'm afraid. Or the beautifully wrapped pile of Secret Santa pressies. Sorry.
I did photograph the food though. My Xmas dinner at the top ... and Kate's Christmas-Vegetable-Omelette at the bottom. Look at it: carrots, parsnips, sprouts, the lot! Definitely not something you see every day.
. How lovely is my friend Kate Hardy! I clicked on her bog this morning on my usual round up and saw this!
Reading: Jan Jones, Fortunate Wager – read this in one sitting. I love Jan’s Newmarket books because she has the place spot on. I also love her characterisation (Caroline is a tad unconventional and utterly lovely – the kind you’d want to be your friend; and Alexander is just gorgeous), her dialogue, the way she writes the most horrible villains, and the rollicking good pace of her stories. (Jan, you’d better have the next one almost complete now. Impatient readers – i.e. me – want the next one…) Thanks, Kate! And congrats to you for being nominated for "Best Presents"
(Oh, and the next Newmarket Regency is, er, in progress. Ish. Very ish.) .
Today I have packed my thermos and sandwiches and can be found at the RNA Blog talking about Writing Close To Home. Do pop over there if you have a moment.
. The normal running of this blog will be interrupted this week while I take time out to go to TWO parties. Yes, two!
On Wednesday I will catch up with lots of my talented friends at the launch of the fabulous RNA 50th Anniversary Anthology Loves Me, Loves Me Not(in which I may have mentioned that I have a story)
and then on Thursday it is the turn of the RNA Winter Party with even more friends!
There will also be several hours of RNA committee meeting in between, but hey, it's a small price to pay. .
They shall grow not old As we that are left grow old Age shall not weary them Nor the years condemn At the going down of the sun And in the morning We will remember them
There I was, cold and glum, looking at the screed of disconnected rambling sentences that is the current wip, with all sorts of jobs stacked up waiting for me...
DING DONG DING DONG (no, I don't know why it always rings twice, either)
And lo and behold, outside my front door was a completely out-of-the-grey delivery!
Aren't they gorgeous? All glossy and shiny and with my name on them and everything.
So, to celebrate, I'm going to give one away. Yes, really, don't try to stop me.
To be in with a chance of winning, just tell me what would make your life suddenly full of sparkle and good cheer if an unexpected parcel of it turned up on your doorstep?
Provided I could see through all the condensation on my brand-new windows, that is. Is that right? Should brand-new double-glazed windows in new wonderfully white uPVC frames get condensation?
Ah, of course! It must be all that brand-new cavity wall insulation making the inside of the house warmer than the outside.
At this rate the promised reduction in heating bills will be used up in buying extra kitchen towels to mop up all the 'internal dew'! .
. Productive meeting in Cambridge today, talking over promotion ideas with the other members of the Writing From The Heart team regarding our plans for world domination (literary world, that is).
Basically, if you would like any or all of us for a romantic fiction panel, interviews, talks or workshops - just call!
Then - as it was lunchtime and they are chums - I introduced them to my favourite Cambridge restaurant, The Galleria on Bridge Street.
I went to see another rehearsed reading in the Restoring The Repertoire series this evening - this one was The Rent Day by Douglas Jerrold, first performed in 1832.
Fabulous stuff! A lovely rounded boisterous drama in two acts. Just enough comedy to make the tragedy stark and real - and subtle propaganda to the audience not to gamble their inheritance away, thus ruining their tenant farmers back at home on the estate.
I love these rehearsed readings put on by the Theatre Royal in Bury St Edmunds. The actors only open the scripts at 10 o'clock that morning - and are giving a performance full of enthusiasm, insight and simple joy-in-acting at 7 in the evening. Long may you run, guys! .
. Ages (ie more than a couple of days) ago I won a download of fellow RNA member Imogen Howson's book Heart of the Volcano - which, incidentally, is a really, really good read.
Today I came home cold and snappy from shopping (why do they always run out of things I want on a Friday?) to find the second half of the prize, which I had totally forgotten about!
Normally I'm a restrained Maya-Gold-two-squares-a-day girl, but Immi, I just want you to know that that was the most more-ish chocolate I've ever eaten in my life. Witness the photo.
I now feel warm, in love with the world, and just very slightly sick. .
. Okay, so today is National Poetry Day. Now, I have published several of my poems - some sensible, some silly - on this blog, but none of them are particularly heroic. This is a problem since this year's theme is "Heroes and Heroines".
That being so, who better as the subject for today's poem than the doctor who always makes me feel better? Enjoy!
(PS - this is one of my sillier poems. Don't go expecting a prize-winning epic)
For Them All ... but especially Blake’s 7 and you know Who by Jan Jones
Everyone needs to suspend disbelief How else do children grow? Everyone needs a fantasy land Action grand A heroic band How else can we create bricks out of sand? How else make bread out of dough?
Everyone needs a family time That half-hour in front of the box Everyone needs to escape for a while Exchanging a smile Steal the enemy's phial Everyone needs to be part of the guile Ignoring the ticking of clocks.
. ME 7 copies of short story manuscript, ready to win me £25,000, all parcelled up ready for the post - tick
16 sets of 5 handouts for Writing Romance course in Stoke - tick
course notes - tick
tatty comfortable clothes to travel in - tick
posh clothes to give course in - tick
box of my books to sell having convinced coursees during the day of my brilliance, wit and readability - tick
DAUGHTER Other half of bedroom that we didn't take to Uni house last week - tick er, apart from the computer and the frozen food and the stuff in the fridge and her pillows
. Well, now, this is weird. I have several Google alerts set up, one of which is for "Jan Jones". Normally I skim through the entries (you have no idea how many Jones-related stories there are out there, and there are even more in January) and delete the mail. This morning I was sitting at the PC with a nice cup of tea when I saw my name followed by the first lines of a poem I'd written. But it was a poem I didn't know was out there!
She's put a good photo with it - not an image I'd had in mind while writing the poem, but then the joy of poetry is that we're free to make our own interpretations - but I'd dearly love to know where she saw the poem first!
. I'm having an Autumn feast of all things Georgian. A couple of weeks ago I went to a lecture at the Bury St Edmunds Records Office about the Cullum Library that they store. Today it was the turn of a batch of letters sent from Thomas and Susan Macro (Thomas was a prominent apothecary in the town) to their daughter and son-in-law Mary and John Wilson between 1713 and 1718.
As all writers know, there is a huge amount of social history to be found in letters. Mild complaints that letters had been left at the delivery office for too long, worries about lyings-in, sensible advice on settling into a new home, anecdotes of neighbours - all these things add up to a background in which to set our own writing.
And as a bonus - Dr Pat Murrell had baked us wigs to go with our tea. These are spiced buns with a scattering of sugar-coated caraway seeds. (The idea was to cleanse the palate and perhaps sweeten the breath!) Strangely enough, one cannot buy sugar-coated caraway seeds these days but Pat had discovered Indian shops sell a very acceptable substitute in sugar-coated fennel seeds.
They were extremely tasty - and when we were told they were even better hot out of the oven I asked if I could take a second one home with me to try it warm. This is it just before I ate it. Delicious! .
Steeping myself as I am in Regency theatre research for the Work In Progress, I was overjoyed to open the latest Theatre Royal brochure and discover that the main Restoring the Repertoire play this Autumn is He's Much To Blame by Thomas Holcroft.
Holcroft was one of a band of radical thinkers who sought to change people's opinion by means of incorporating telling scenes and speeches into his plays. Very witty and sharply executed, a lot of the exchanges on stage are as true today as they were 200 years ago. Billed at the time as a comedy, He's Much To Blame (first performed in 1798, but they'd still have been putting it on in the Regency era) nevertheless produces moments of stark tragedy designed to make the audience stop and think.
So what's the story? Maria has come to town disguised as a man in order to prevent her brother (Delavel) and her erstwhile suitor (George Versatile) from fighting a duel. George had been going to marry Maria until he was suddenly taken rich and had his head turned by Society.
George has now fallen in with Lord and Lady Vibrate and their celebrity German doctor Gosterman. Versatile by nature as well as by name, he has lost his own true self in making himself pleasant to everybody and has apparently forgotten the love he left behind. Lady Vibrate (who lives only for pleasure) wishes him to marry her daughter Jane. Jane, however, is in love with Delavel.
And - as could only happen in a play - all of them are now staying in the same hotel!
The Bury St Edmunds production was an absolute joy, and as I had secured a seat in the box right on the stage again, I felt as if I had slid not only into the past, but also into the play itself.
And on Monday the cast is taking a day off(!) to do a rehearsed reading of Holcroft's comedy The Road To Ruin. I am a very happy Regency writer. .
. My car has one of those delightful intermittent faults which brings up a scary orange light right in the middle of the dashboard. Every time this happens the car and I go into the garage where they clear the fault, speculate interestedly about what might be causing it and tell me to come back next time it occurs. A couple of times it has been a real fault entailing the changing of various expensive parts. Even if it doesn't cost money - it always involves loss of time.
This time, however, the garage decided Action Was Needed (possibly they were getting fed up with me plugging Nymph into their power supply, using their free wifi and drinking all their tea). They stripped the engine down ("No cost, Mrs Jones") and found - a broken wire.
Sadly, it seems wires don't get mended any more, they get replaced. The entire wire loom gets replaced. At a cost of £150+.
While my car was being investigated, the garage driver ran me into Bury St Edmunds for an excellent lecture at the Theatre Royal on the Georgian playwright Thomas Holcroft and picked me up again afterwards. Then (as my car was in pieces) he took me home. Tomorrow he is going to collect me, drop me off at the Records Office for a lecture on the Georgian Gentleman's Library and pick me up after a matinee of He's Much To Blame by the said Thomas Holcroft at the theatre.
"There," said the service receptionist. "At least we've saved you the parking fee."
To park in Bury St Edmunds all day costs £1.80 !!! .
I was tagged by Nicola Cornick over on Facebook to do this meme and had such fun that I'm putting it up here as well. It was just lovely having all Neil Young's songs running through my head again.If anyone else feels like doing it, just cut, paste and carry on!
Using only song NAMES from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "My life according to (band name)" Pick your Artist: Neil Young Are you a male or female?: Such a Woman Describe yourself: Natural Beauty How do you feel: Unknown Legend Describe where you currently live: (Get Back to) the Country If you could go anywhere, where would you go: California Sunset Your favourite form of transportation: Cripple Creek Ferry Your best friend is: Out on the Weekend You and your best friends are: After the Goldrush What's the weather like: Like a Hurricane Favourite time of day: Harvest Moon If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: From Hank to Hendrix What is life to you: Bound for Glory Your last relationship: Don't let it Bring you Down Your current relationship: You and Me Your fear: The Old Laughing Lady What is the best advice you have to give: Long May You Run Thought for the Day: Are There Any More Real Cowboys? How I would like to die: Only Love Can Break Your Heart Looking for: Where is the Highway Tonight? If you could change your name, you would change it to: (Once an) Angel Wouldn’t mind: Words My soul's present condition: The Wayward Wind Most Faithful Companion: Heart of Gold My motto: One of these Days
. Sometimes, organising the RNA Conference is a seriously fun job. Last week, for instance, I was in Greenwich speccing out the Queen Anne building,
the Painted Hall (no, we can't afford to eat there, but it had to be checked, right?),
the Queen Mary Undercroft (we might be able to eat there - wonder if they do beans on toast?), and the view from the Trafalgar Tavern (we can afford to eat there).
And all on the hottest day of the summer so far in London. .
. This year I decided to colour-coordinate my hanging baskets. (Alan Titchmarsh, you have a lot to answer for). So on one side of the door, I filled the basket with yellow and white. It's pretty - but would have looked a lot better had all the yellow petunias not died.
The other side of the door, I filled the basket with glorious reds and oranges. Looks fabulous, doesn't it? Just as I envisioned it.
Until you glance upwards.
Did I mention we feed wild birds in our garden? Sometimes they're ever such messy eaters.
Due to the unaccountable absence of any liqueur chocolates in either my birthday bag or under the tree, I felt impelled to visit Waitrose this morning and browse the sale bay. (That and the fact that we only had an inch of milk left in the fridge.)
