My visit to the Bronte Parsonage (aka my husband was right…)

I was overcome with a sense of awe as I stepped into the Bronte Parsonage for the very first time. My husband had sensibly ambled off the nearest coffee shop in search of scones as he thought I’d be hours. ‘It’s not that big, I won’t be long,’ I’d replied. But he was right. I was hours.

There was such a sense of history seeped into the rooms of this house that still feels very much a home with its rich and warm atmosphere. Here lived the writers whose books I had grown up reading, who moved me with their words, who made me fall in love with their characters, whose stories I felt a sense of loss from when I’d finished. The Bronte family came to live at Haworth Parsonage in 1820 when Patrick Bronte was appointed Perpetual Curate of Haworth Church. Tragically Mrs Bronte and the two elder children, Maria and Elizabeth, died within five years.

First off is Mr Bronte’s study. The children had their lessons here and the cabinet piano was played by Emily and Anne. Much of the furniture and possessions in the parsonage did belong to the Brontes and it has been decorated as closely to the original as it can be. In each room are costumes from the BBC ‘To Walk Invisible’ biopic, which, if you haven’t seen I’d highly recommend.

 

In the dining room is the table Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights were written at. Visitors aren’t allowed to touch it (oh how I longed to) but it was stained with ink blots and there’s a small letter ‘e’ carved into its surface. I could almost picture the siblings gathered around the table bouncing around plot ideas.

Mr Nicholas Study – Charlotte converted this room into a study for her husband-to-be in 1854.

 

Kitchen – I believe this is the only room that was structurally altered after the Brontes no longer lived here.

Each evening at 9 Mr Bronte would lock the front door and on his way to bed he’d wind up this Grandfather Clock

Children’s Room – this was a study for the children while they were young and it was here the siblings wrote their early stories and poems.

Father’s Room – It was in this room that Branwell died in 1848.

Branwell’s Room – full of chaos and pieces of writing.

Upstairs, there is an exhibition with displays of manuscripts, first editions and lots of information boards to read. Including letters from Charlotte, firstly submitting her manuscript after 6 rejections “I beg to submit to your consideration the accompanying Manuscript” and later, to her publisher “hoping the public may think pretty well” of Jane Eyre and, later writing “we did not like to declare ourselves women, because we had a vague impression that authoresses were liable to be looked on with prejudice”.

I had such a lovely time and learned such a lot I was loath to leave but on my way out I spotted the children’s craft table and although I didn’t have my kids with me the staff kindly let me join them and I spent a happy half hour making these spoon people who now sit on the shelf above my desk watching (judging) me as I write more books of my own.

I also got the chance to do something really cool while I was at the parsonage, yes even cooler than spoon people, but I’ll share that in another blog very soon.

 

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THIS is what inspired my new novel… Guest post by Rebecca Stonehill

 

I’m a huge fan of Rebecca Stonehill’s beautiful writing so when she contacted me to tell me she was releasing a new novel I was super excited. Today I welcome Rebecca onto my blog where she’ll share the inspiration behind her new release, the fabulously titled ‘The Secret Life of Alfred Nightingale’. Over to you, Rebecca!

 

The setting often comes first for me: with my first novel, The Poet’s Wife, I was inspired by my time spent in Granada, southern Spain; The Girl and the Sunbird I knew would be my ‘Nairobi’ novel as this is where I live and I wanted to wind back the clock to find out what it was like in its beginnings as a town.

As for my third novel, The Secret Life of Alfred Nightingale (to be published 11 November 2017), the setting was again integral, but this time, not because I’d ever been there. As a child, one of my favourite pastimes was to heave down one of the heavy albums from my mother’s bookshelf in her bedroom, filled to bursting with photographs. I loved the photos of past family holidays, and my aunts and uncles when they were younger. But, more than any other, there was an album I returned to again and again.

It was from my mother’s travels from around 1967-1968, a period when she hitchhiked from England down to Greece, worked as an au pair in Athens and then travelled on to a tiny village set in a bay in Southern Crete named Matala, a place she found hard to leave. As a child, I was captivated by these sepia-toned photographs. A handful of scantily clad travellers clustered around a series of sandstone caves they slept in. The odd flag flapped outside a cave opening in the breeze and travellers squint into the camera against the fierce Cretan sunlight above a beautiful, deserted beach.

I desperately wanted to go there but, even more importantly, the seed was planted: one day I would set a story there. I had no idea what form this journey would take, but it didn’t matter; this would come in time.

Matala and those photographs from the late 1960’s have never left me. It is only in the past couple of years though that I’ve had the opportunity to develop and mould the story into what it has become. My protagonist is Jim, a handsome, arrogant but troubled eighteen year old from Twickenham who hitchhikes to Matala in 1967 in search of fun, and to escape his repressed parents. What I didn’t want, though, was for this to be simply a 1960’s coming of age story. I knew very little about what happened in Crete during WW2 but, researching it more, a story of how to link the two periods slowly emerged.

I finally made it to Matala during the late summer of 2016, with my mother as well as her sister and friends who also spent time in the caves. It is now a resort and much has changed from those days of long ago. Tourists pay money to visit the caves where the ‘hippies’ once stayed and, going much further back, where people from the Neolithic period buried their dead. But the spirit of Matala remains: a place of freedom, of gently lapping waves and, if you take the time to sit with a coffee and piece of backlava with one of the locals, of numerous stories.

The one I have chosen to tell follows Jim through Europe down to Matala. At first, it’s the paradise he dreamt it would be. But as things start to go wrong and his very notion of self unravels, the last thing Jim expects is for this journey of hundreds of miles to set in motion a passage of healing which will lead him back to the person he hates most in the world: his father.

Taking in the counter-culture of the 1960’s, the clash of relationships between the WW2 generation and their children, the baby boomers, this is a novel about secrets from the past finally surfacing, the healing of trauma and the power of forgiveness.

I’m looking forward to seeing this book out in the world after brewing for more than thirty years!

In Matala, Crete, September 2016 with my mother, cousin, auntie and their friend who they were in Matala with in the Sixties.

 

 

 The caves in Matala in which travellers once slept in, the inspiration for my novel.

 

That sounds wonderful, Rebecca. Thanks so much for sharing the story behind the story. Wishing you the best of luck. 

 

Rebecca can be contacted through her website, on Twitter, or via Facebook. You can sign up to Rebcca’s mailing list here.

You can buy The Secret Life of Alfred Nightingale via Amazon US or Amazon UK. Here’s the blurb: –

A compelling page turner of a buried past resurfacing, set against a backdrop of the 1960’s youth culture and war torn Crete.

1967. Handsome but troubled, Jim is almost 18 and he lives and breathes girls, trad jazz, Eel Pie Island and his best friend, Charles. One night, he hears rumours of a community of young people living in caves in Matala, Crete. Determined to escape his odious, bully of a father and repressed mother, Jim hitchhikes through Europe down to Matala. At first, it’s the paradise he dreamt it would be. But as things start to go wrong and his very notion of self unravels, the last thing Jim expects is for this journey of hundreds of miles to set in motion a passage of healing which will lead him back to the person he hates most in the world: his father.

Taking in the counter-culture of the 1960’s, the clash of relationships between the WW2 generation and their children, the baby boomers, this is a novel about secrets from the past finally surfacing, the healing of trauma and the power of forgiveness.

 

 

10 Questions With Louise Jensen

The first time in an interview I’ve ever been asked about Rod Stewart!

Serial Writer

Good evening folks, I don’t know about you lot but I’m made up it’s nearly the weekend! Thank God!!

This evening I’m delighted to welcome psychological thriller writer Louise Jensen to my blog. Here, she chats how she was discovered by the WoMentoring Project, the writing processes for her novels The Sister and The Gift and whether she shares my love of Rod Stewart.


Over to you, Louise.

1) As a child, did you have a favourite author and do you have a favourite author now?

Enid Blyton was my favourite author and I’m currently reading the Famous Five series with my youngest son (I read them to his older brothers too) so I guess she still is!

2) Did you enjoy English at school?

I loved English although I found some of the reading quite heavy going. I’ve re-read the classics as an adult and have a whole new…

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A day in the life of…historical fiction writer Catherine Kullmann

I love historical fiction and Catherine’s gorgeous covers got me rushing straight to Amazon. I’d always assumed, perhaps wrongly so, that writing in this genre would take oodles of plotting and planning and it’s been really interesting to hear how Catherine does it. Over to you, Catherine. 

 

Now, in my sixties, I am finally living my dream. I always enjoyed writing, and writing was an important part of my professional life but deep down I wanted to write fiction—something that the pressures of family life combined with a demanding career did not permit. It was only when I took early retirement following a year’s treatment for breast cancer that I said to myself ‘if not now, when?’ and literally set pen to paper. I write historical fiction ‘for the heart and for the head’, set in the extended Regency period of the first quarter of the nineteenth century.

I live in Dublin with my husband of over forty years. We have three sons and two grandchildren. I share my love of history with my husband who has had two books of local history published, and a third on the way.

Unless we need to get up earlier, our alarm clock is set for eight o’clock. I get up first, shower and do my hair, make breakfast and take it and the Irish Times back to bed. Breakfast is coffee, a banana and yoghurt and a slice of toast. Over breakfast, I read the paper, listen to Marty in the Morning on RTElyric.fm and do the crossword. Then we discuss our plans for the day, what we will do and what we will eat. We both love food and cooking. I have a large collection of cookery books, mainly Irish, French, Greek and Italian—and we generally eat according to the seasons. We cook everything from scratch and our meals are frequently inspired by what is in the fridge. We don’t like waste.

By eleven, all the chores are done. I make tea which we take upstairs to our studies. One of the joys of writing historical fiction is the opportunity to dive down all sorts of rabbit holes, tracing the minutiae of daily life in the past. I love trawling through antique shops, second-hand book shops, flea markets etc. and have a considerable research library to which I add continually. I have prints and engravings from the era on the walls of my study, wherever there is no room for bookshelves, and when I sit at my desk, I step into the past.

I am a pantser rather than a plotter. My books are usually sparked by ‘what if?’ or ‘what happened then?’ I keep a notebook of possible plots in which I jot down these ideas as they occur to me. When I start a new book, I work first on creating the characters, then I’ll read up on the years involved, to remind myself of the main events. I download calendars for the relevant years and draw up a public timeline into which I note every event—cultural, political, scandalous etc. that might be of interest to my characters. Only then do I type ‘Chapter One’. It is both an exciting and a scary moment.

Once I have started work on the first draft, I create a separate document in which I note as I go relevant data such as names and ages of main and minor characters, including those who are dead before the story opens or who are referred to but are ‘off-stage,’ and the various residences and their servants. I also draw up a table showing the timeline and events of each chapter. This helps me keep the plot on track. It is very much a work in progress, changing as the characters and the story-line develop. I continue to research as I go, because the outcome of the research sometimes changes the narrative.

I stop at one to make lunch—generally tea and a sandwich. I rest afterwards, frequently falling asleep in my armchair while listening to music. I love classical music but do not listen to it while I am writing—I find it too distracting. By three o’clock, I am back at my desk. As an indie author, I am responsible for my own marketing, which is mainly via Facebook. I blog about historical facts and trivia relating to the Regency in My Scrap Album on my website http://www.catherinekullmann.com and am always delighted to guest on other blogs such as this one.

Around four, we have a mug of coffee and a biscuit. That is the end of my kitchen duties for the day as my husband cooks the evening meal. My PC backs-up automatically at six thirty every evening, so I must shut down WORD etc. by then. That is usually the signal to stop working. When I go downstairs, I’ll pour our aperitifs—dry sherry or a gin and tonic and then we have dinner and a glass of wine.

We don’t go out much in the evenings—sometimes we go to a concert or the opera, or meet friends for dinner. From September to May we have our ballroom-dancing class on Wednesdays. We have been dancing on and off for almost thirty years and really love it.

If we are not going out, we settle in with our books and listen to the evening concert on RTELyric.fm. We go to bed between ten and eleven, grateful every night for this stage in our lives.

Thanks so much for sharing, Catherine. It just shows – it’s never too late to follow your dreams.

You can find Catherine’s books here.

Hook an Agent Part V – Bestselling authors share how they found their agent

In Part I of my ‘Hook an Agent’ series I shared my submission letter for The Sister which you can read here. In Part II, here, Literary Agent Rory Scarfe told us ‘Never let your ideas be ordinary.’ Part III was Rowan Lawton sharing her top 3 tips for writing that synopsis & I shared part of my synopsis for The Sister. You can read that post here. Part IV, you can read here, featured agent Eugenie Furniss advising us to tighten those first 3 chapters, I also shared the opening of The Sister.

Today, the final part of the series, is all about how to find an agent. It’s tricky to find the right agent for you and as with any industry there are those who are fabulous and those who aren’t. It’s imperative to find someone you can trust because not only will they be guiding your career, they will also be taking a percentage of your earnings. There are horror stories of course, authors who have had their fingers burned, and while I feel it’s better to have no agent, than the wrong agent, the good news is there are so many credible ones to choose from.

We all have different approaches from reading the Writers & Artists’ Yearbook to Googling Literary Agents. I was very careful and almost reluctant to submit my manuscript. It took ages for me to draw up a list of who I wanted to submit to. For my search I read as many books as I could in my genre and when I fell in love with one I emailed the author to ask who their agent was and whether they were happy with them. If the answer was positive (and they weren’t all positive) I’d find out who else was on that agent’s list, how successful the books they placed were. Then I’d stalk them on social media, trying to get a sense of whether I thought I could work with them. I ended up with a small list but it’s important to not initially send your submission package out to as many agents as you can, as sometimes that ‘no’ will come with personalised feedback on your story and then you’ve the option to tweak your MS if you agree, before you send out again. I’ll hand over now to this fabulous bunch of bestselling authors who will share their journey.

I bought a copy of The Writers & Artists’ Yearbook and circled all the agents who represented the bestselling authors in my genre. I then drew up a list of thirty and sent a personalised cover letter, synopsis and the first three chapters to my top six. It didn’t take long for the rejections to start rolling in but Darley Anderson (who represents Lee Child and Martina Cole) asked to see the full manuscript. Six agonising weeks later he rang me back. The book had potential, he said, but it wasn’t of publishable standard – yet. He told me what I needed to work on and told me to resubmit when I’d written a new draft. Several weeks after I resubmitted it I had a phone call. It was Madeleine Milburn who was (then) Darley’s head of foreign rights. She loved my book so much she said, that she’d asked Darley if she could represent me. Maddy’s enthusiasm for my book was infectious and I signed with her. Several years later, when she left to start her own agency, I went with her. We’re now approaching our ten year agent/author anniversary! C. L. Taylor

I finished writing The Teacher and then sent my first three chapters off to fifteen agents. After four immediate rejections within a week, I was contacted by Diane Banks who asked to read the rest of the book. She then travelled to Ramsgate from London and we met for lunch. It all happened so fast! I got on really well with Diane and so I signed with her agency. Katerina Diamond

I’d given up hope of finding an agent, and I’d signed a two book deal with HQ Digital (Carina at the time) when i got an email from Lisa Moylett, my now agent asking to read the full. I was in France with no wifi, so had to tell her that I’d send it when I got home…I sent it the morning after I got home and she emailed that night to say could she call to talk to me about representation…only problem was, I’d been for dinner with a friend and had sunk loads of wine so had to email back and say I couldn’t speak to her til the morning! Luckily, even though I did give her a bit of hassle, she still wanted to represent me – I was invited for lunch with her and Jamie MacClean, her business partner, and was instantly made to feel like part of the CMM family. There was no way I couldn’t sign with her! Lisa Hall

I first came across Rowan Lawton on the Novelicious website where I read that among other things she likes issue-led debuts. My first novel was issue-led, so I thought Rowan might like it. Instead of submitting directly to her, I entered that novel into a competition on which she was a judge. I was shortlisted, and Rowan liked my book and worked with me for some months on changes. In the end, she turned me down. Of course, I was gutted, but I remained determined. I entered the Bristol Short Story Prize twice when she was a judge and to my astonishment was shortlisted both times. I met up with Rowan at one of the prize ceremonies – and as we chatted, I realised that we loved the same kind of books. She was so friendly and engaging, and unlike any other agent I had approached, she was eager to read everything I sent her. Finally in June 2016 when I sent her my third book, The Maid’s Room, she agreed to represent me. I was ecstatic because I knew this was a game-changer. I hugged her very hard indeed. Sure enough, four months later, I signed with Hodder & Stoughton as well as several foreign publishers, and my debut novel The Maid’s Room is out on 16th November. Fiona Mitchell

I was a bit fed up about royalties one day and decided to approach (the late, great) Carole Blake. We were friendly on social media and when we met at conferences and I sent her an email that began, ‘I know you’re not taking anybody on, but I’m going to ask you anyway.’ She felt that lovely Juliet Pickering, another agent in the Blake Friedmann Literary Agency, was a better fit for me, let Juliet read my work and made the introduction so we could see how we got on. We got on very well and Juliet has played a leading role in steering my career to greater things. I am a very happy (agented) author! Sue Moorcroft

I’d researched agents who I knew wanted psychological/crime fiction and those who I would love to be represented by, then made a ‘hit-list ‘of favourites. The list was fairly long! I got the usual rejections, then some wonderfully exciting emails asking for me to send my full manuscript. The agent I signed with happened to be the first agent who asked for the full. Her response ended up being a rejection, but with a snippet of hope tagged on the end – the magical words: ‘I think you are talented and would be very happy to talk more about you and your writing, or to see anything else you might write in this area.’ By the time I received this email, I’d begun my second novel – Saving Sophie – the opening chapters of which had been longlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger, so I immediately let her know of this! A meeting was arranged for the following month and I accepted her offer of representation about a week after. Sam Carrington

I had known my agents for some years prior to signing with her and our paths had crossed several times at various writing events. When the time came for me to look for an agent, I wanted someone I felt comfortable talking to, someone who I could speak to freely and someone who I felt loved my work. My agent ticked all these boxes, so it was an easy choice for me. Sue Fortin

 

Thanks so much to all who have taken part in my ‘Hook an Agent’ series. I do hope it’s been useful to writers approaching the submission stage. Good luck to all submitting!

Excerpt – The opening of The Surrogate & my thoughts on THAT end!

My third novel, The Surrogate, was published a few days ago and I wanted to share the opening with you. I had such a fabulous time writing this book. The story of Kat and Lisa was definitely one where I thought I knew where it was going, but the characters grew darker, the plot more complex and the twists and turns gather pace until the end hit me like a sledgehammer. I never saw it coming and once it was written, it was great fun to go back and plant the clues for readers, although judging from the over 100 five star reviews it’s already amassed no-one has yet predicted the ending either (BIG thanks to all who have reviewed). It’s the most intricate story I’ve written, everyone in this book has a secret. The e-book has now been selected as part of a special promotion so you can grab it for £0.99/$1.30 across all digital platforms. You can find it on Amazon here.

 

Later

There is a rising sense of panic; horror hanging in the air like smoke.

‘They’re such a lovely couple. Do you think they’re okay?’ says the woman, but the flurry of emergency service vehicles crammed into the quiet cul-de-sac, the blue and white crime scene tape stretched around the perimeter of the property, indicate things are anything but okay. She wraps her arms around herself as though she is cold, despite this being the warmest May on record for years. Cherry blossom twirls around her ankles like confetti, but there will be no happily ever after for the occupants of this house, the sense of tragedy already seeping into its red bricks.

Her voice shakes as she speaks into the microphone. It is difficult to hear her over the thrum of an engine, the slamming of van doors as a rival news crew clatters a camera into its tripod. He thrusts the microphone closer to her mouth. She hooks her red hair behind her ears; raises her head. Her eyes are bright with tears. TV gold.

‘You don’t expect anything bad… Not here. This is a nice area.’

Disdain slides across the reporter’s face before he rearranges his features into the perfect blend of sympathy and shock. He hadn’t spent three years having drama lessons for nothing.

He tugs the knot in his tie to loosen it a little as he waits for the woman to finish noisily blowing her nose. The heat is insufferable; shadows long under the blazing sun. Body odour exudes from his armpits, fighting against the sweet scent of the freshly cut grass. The smell is cloying, sticking in the back of his throat. He can’t wait to get home and have an ice-cold lager. Put on his shorts like the postman sitting on the edge of the kerb, his head between his knees. He wonders if he is the one who found them. There will be plenty of angry people waiting for their post today. ‘Late Letter Shock!’ is the sort of inane local story he usually gets to cover, but this… this could go national. His big break. He couldn’t get here fast enough when his boss called to say what he thought he’d heard on the police scanner.

He shields his eyes against the sun with one hand as he scouts the area. Across the road, a woman rests against her doorframe, toddler in her arms. He can’t quite read her expression and wonders why she doesn’t come closer like the rest of them. At the edge of the garden, as close as the police will allow, a small crowd is huddled together: friends and neighbours, he expects. The sight of their shocked faces is such a contrast to the neat borders nursing orange marigolds and lilac pansies. He thinks this juxtaposition would make a great shot. The joy of spring tempered by tragedy. New life highlighting the rawness of loss of life. God, he’s good; he really should be an anchor.

There is movement behind him, and he signals to the cameraman to turn around. The camera pans down the path towards the open front door. It’s flanked by an officer standing to attention in front of a silver pot containing a miniature tree. On the step are specks of what looks like blood. His heart lifts at the sight of it. Whatever has happened here is big. Career defining.

Coming out of the house are two sombre paramedics pushing empty trolleys, wheels crunching in the gravel.

The woman beside him clutches his arm, her fingertips pressed hard against his suit jacket. Silly cow will wrinkle the fabric. He fights the urge to shake her free; instead, swallowing down his agitation. He might need to interview her again later.

‘Does this mean they’re okay?’ asks the woman, confusion lining her face.

The trolleys are clattered into the back of the waiting ambulance. The doors slam shut, the blue lights stop flashing and slowly it pulls away.

From behind the immaculately trimmed hedge, hidden from view, he hears the crackle of a walkie-talkie. A low voice. Words drift lazily towards him, along with the buzz of bumblebees and the stifled sound of sobbing.

‘Two bodies. It’s a murder enquiry.’

I wrote this opening genuinely thinking I knew who the bodies would be, and why but as the characters developed and took over the story I found it almost out of my hands. The reveal shocked me and just when I thought I’d finished writing the final twists come in the Epilogue. I felt so drained after writing this book. I hope as well as being entertaining, I’ve also sensitively handled the emotional side of a couple longing for a child. I do hope it’s a thriller with a real heart.

Here’s the blurb:

‘You know that feeling? When you want something so badly, you almost feel you’d kill for it?’

Be careful what you wish for…

Kat and her husband Nick have tried everything to become parents. All they want is a child to love but they are beginning to lose hope. Then a chance encounter with Kat’s childhood friend Lisa gives them one last chance.

Kat and Lisa were once as close as sisters. The secrets they share mean their trust is for life… Or is it?

Just when the couple’s dream seems within reach, Kat begins to suspect she’s being watched and Nick is telling her lies.

Are the cracks appearing in Kat’s perfect picture of the future all in her head, or should she be scared for the lives of herself and her family?

How far would you go, to protect everything you love?

From the no. 1 bestselling author of The Sister and The Gift, this is an unputdownable psychological thriller which asks how far we will go to create our perfect family.

Buy it now for £0.99/$1.30 across all digital platforms, including Amazon here.

Square Graphic - The Surrogate - 10

 

 

One terrified writer, one HUGE literary festival, one big mistake?

 

Over the past year I’ve been asked to speak at several events, some big, some small, but all have one thing in common – I’ve said no. I think I can pinpoint exactly when and why my phobia of public speaking started, but knowing that, understanding that, hasn’t made it any easier to cope with. On the occasions I’ve tried, I’ve ended up in such a state I’ve not been able to sleep or eat in the weeks preceding and have been physically sick and unable to talk on the day. Shaking, dry mouth, fainting, you name it, I’ve suffered with it.

Althorp Literary Festival is in its 14th year and when an email dropped into my inbox I assumed it was asking me to buy tickets as I’ve attended most years as a guest. Instead, it was an invitation to take part in a panel event. I felt equally honoured and disappointed. There’s no way I could possibly take part, or could I?

Unusually, I didn’t rattle off a polite ‘thanks, but no thanks’ straight away. Althorp is a very dear place to me. I grew up 10 minutes down the road and have many happy childhood memories of our Sunday afternoon drives through the beautiful grounds after a roast lunch, my parents in the front of the car, me playing eye-spy in the back with my sister, ending with tea and cake and the more I let the memory cover me like a blanket, the more it grew – the urge to say yes. My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I quickly punched out an acceptance. And then I cried. And then I set about finding a solution, painfully aware I wouldn’t just be representing myself but also the festival, both my publishers and my agent. No pressure then. My google research resulted in me booking a course of hypnotherapy. I genuinely enjoyed every second of my talk and I’ve since signed up for various events and I honestly can’t wait. Next week I’ll be interviewing my hypnotherapist, Carmen, and she’ll share her thoughts on why public speaking is such a common phobia and give her tips on giving a great performance and I’ll be talking about the things that worked for me.

Today though I want to share my memories of what was an amazing weekend.

On arrival I was escorted to the Green Room, the library. The sight of all those books was instantly calming, admittedly so was the sight of the gin…

It felt so surreal at first and I had to remind myself to focus and pay attention to the other panellists as initially I was sitting there thinking ‘I’m on a stage at Althorp! How did this possibly happen to me?’

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There were books everywhere and at my first official signing I had a touch of anxiety I’d scratch the beautiful desk. I didn’t, and chatting to readers was one of the highlights of my weekend.

Umm there’s always one, lowering the tone, photographing the food. That would be me…

The grounds are absolutely stunning.

And no festival would be complete without a champagne bus. thankfully the sun shone and it became open top. 

I met some amazing people, caught up with old friends and made some new, and whether I’m invited back as a speaker or not, I can’t wait for next year’s event.

Huge thanks to everyone involved in putting together such an amazing festival and leaving me with memories I shall always treasure.