Down in the dumps

After sending the first three chapters of The Charm off to the agent of my dreams, then getting a letter back to say 'WE LOVE IT! CAN WE HAVE MORE?', to sending a further eight chapters, followed shortly by the entire manuscript – I really hoped I was in with a shot of getting published. I'd read so many times that most agents only take on one new writer a year – if you're lucky – and most debut novels never get published anyway, so when the agent of my dreams took The Charm the whole way, I thought I was going to be the one-in-a-million to strike it lucky first time.
But yesterday I received my first rejection and I have no shame in admitting it made me a bit weepy. It was a lovely rejection, mind you, and the agent of my dreams said, and I quote, 'I enjoyed it. I love your gorgeous, sumptuous descriptions and I like your writing', which was great to hear. But at the end of the day, a no is a no, however nicely put. Apparently, The Charm needs to be faster paced and there were doubts over the supernatural element to the storyline, which apparently may put some readers off. I always knew writing about witches and ghosts was a risk but I like witches and ghosts so I threw caution to the wind!
Having said that, I'm not disheartened. Far from it. I have learned a lot from writing The Charm and I am confident it will be published one day. I just need to find the right agent! And I do have a silver lining to my cloud. The agent of my dreams, who first pointed out that my writing style may be better suited to the YA market, wants to read The Boy Who Came To Play when it's finished... maybe it really is a case of if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Mad Week

I've been so busy this week I haven't had the time to sit and write for five days, which is very frustrating! But the sun is out and I've got my flip flops on so who cares! Here is an excerpt from The Charm, Chapter Two.

Angela – a plump, highlighted housewife who thrived on village gossip – leaned over the table towards her three friends, her blouse straining at the buttonholes, hardly able to contain her ample breasts and bulging belly.

‘Did you hear that?’ she hissed, taking a shifty glance over her shoulder to make sure the recipients of her impending lambasting were out of earshot.

‘Bits and pieces. What were they on about?’ asked Jan, jabbing her forefinger at minute crumbs of chips at the bottom of the bowl.

Jackie looked puzzled and started fiddling with her new phone.

‘Spells. Magic. Making charms. Burying them in the bloody garden!’

She took a hefty gulp of vodka and almost choked on an ice cube.

The other three women abruptly stopped what they were doing and stared at her agog, mouths gaping, eyes on stalks.

‘I always knew there was something funny about her from the florists! Nobody would listen to me though! And the other two she hangs around with… freaks, the bloody lot of them! Especially that one with the long white hair and funny teeth!’ Angela spluttered, her hands twitching nervously as she fiddled with the hemline of her navy cardigan.

‘Can you believe it, Liz? Can you actually bloody believe it? Here! In Casworth! I dread to think what the vicar’s going to say…’

She looked at the women, the fear of god instilled within her. They gawped back in disbelief, shaking their heads in unison. Her voice was low, rasping and barely audible as she whispered shakily.

‘Those three… those three, sat there just now as bold as brass… are bloody WITCHES!’

Graveyards

My favourite places, ever! Not that I want to end up in one. I want to be buried in a field and have a cedar tree planted on top of me. But I do love graveyards. They are so beautiful. The old cemetery in Loughborough is a favourite haunt (ahem!) and here is a photo I took there on Saturday. Graveyards feature in both The Charm and my latest novel... they are becoming something of a fixation :)