āIdeas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.ā John Steinbeck
To be honest this should read how to start a new blog, as Iām sure Iāve started one like this before. Yes. All writers have been here before: the hinterland between the joy of completing a novel and the niggling sense that itās time to start another. Life basically becomes a decision between buying a dog, or writing a new novel. Mind you a book doesnāt plead to be walked or fed, although it does rest its head on your lap and look up at you expectantly; wondering when youāre going to do something. I only ever had the ambition to write one book, I thought that would be enough, but itās strangely addictive.
Unfinished Business was published last month as a continuation of the Life Assistanceā¦
āWriting about a writerās block is better than not writing at allā
ā Charles Bukowski
What awful timing, or perhaps itās related. My new novel UnfinishedBusinessĀ is published and Iām struck down by what feels like something I donāt want to name, no, not a STD, but writerās block. Despite a launch party last night that included four Spanish women without Ā word of english to their name arriving to buy a signed copy of the novel for one of their brothers, Iām looking at Unfinished Business with the sense it was a fluke; never to be repeated.
I canāt recall if Iāve written about writerās block before, I mustāve blocked it out, which is exactly the sort of crap joke that suggests itās time to step away from the keyboard and do something else. Anything. Just stop writing. Mind you writers arenāt capable of much else, unless itās theā¦
I watched Notre-Dame burn yesterday, I cried and I had to turn away from it – I couldn’t bear it. I read this by the always excellent Douglas Murray, it encapsulates everything I feel and think – he is much more eloquent that I could ever be. This is Douglas for The Spectator: link to the original article is here: https://blogs.spectator.co.uk/2019/04/notre-dames-loss-is-too-much-to-bear/amp/?__twitter_impression=true
Civilisation only ever hangs by a thread. Today one of those threads seems to have frayed, perhaps snapped. It is impossible to watch the footage coming out of Paris. Like videos of pornographic violence, all that can be done is to groan and turn away. It is not possible to watch the spire of Notre Dame collapse. It is not possible to watch the great cathedral consumed by fire.
Evelyn Waugh once said that in the event of a fire in his house, if he was able only to save his children or his library, he would save his library because books were irreplaceable. Only at a moment such as this is it possible to concede the slightest truth in that remark. Almost anything could be borne rather than the loss of this building.
There will be recriminations, of course. There will be disputes about budgets, and overtime and safety standards and much more. It is worth reading thisĀ pieceĀ from two years ago about the funding problems that existed around the cathedralās restoration. But if Notre Dame can burn then all this is as nothing, because it tells us something too deep to bear. As I said a couple of years ago in a book, in some way the future of civilisation in Europe will be decided on what our attitude is towards the great churches and other cultural buildings of our heritage standing in our midst. Do we contend with them, hate them, ignore them, engage with them or continue to revere them? Do we preserve them?
Though politicians may imagine that ages are judged on the minutiae of government policy, they are not. They are judged on what they leave behind: most of all on how they treat what the past has handed into their care. Even if todayās disaster was simply the most freakish of accidents, ours would still be the era that lost Notre Dame.
We would have to tell future generations what it was like, this treasure that we lost. At the start of this decade I was living part of each week in Paris, commuting back and forth to a little flat on the edge of Le Marais. Each time I headed out to the earliest Eurostar on a Monday morning I would see the great cathedral first as I turned into the street. One winter morning heavy snow was falling and as I headed to the station I stopped dead, alone in the street with the cathedral and just drinking in the sight of a building I had seen a hundred times before. When I got into London a friend could see I was just beaming still, radiating far too much joy for such a time of the week. He asked how I was and I remember simply saying, āThis morning I saw Notre Dame in the snowā. It was like that.
Itās not news that Iām a bookworm, Iāve been reading avidly and collecting books since I was 6. Books always represented escapism and knowledge…but escapism first and foremost.
Iām also in love with language, the way words can be weaved and put together. I studied English, German and Spanish at a high level and taught myself some Italian. Words have always fascinated me, there is something…magical about what I call a ātight line.ā In fact Iāve been known to read tight lines several times in a row when I encounter them – I savour them. Yes, Iām one of those people.
Whilst Iāve always been a bookworm, I became a beta reader only (kind of) recently. But I must say itās been the most amazing experience. To be able to read a chapter or even just a few paragraphs only minutes after theyāve escaped from the writerās mind and imagination is…well, itās everything.
I started reading Unfinished Business by Thomas Hocknell back in 2017 and I was gripped from the start. I can be an impatient type – especially when it comes to books Iām enjoying, Iāll read something I really like in one sitting sometimes – but in this particular case I had no choice but to wait as the novel was far from finished when I first got my hands on it. I must have been a bit of a nightmare because there were numerous occasions when I asked Tom if heād written anything new, (anything at all, even just a few lines?!) because I was dying to know what happened next. I was urging him to write, poor man – as if he didnāt have a life and other things to do!
I wonāt even pretend I was an ideal beta reader. For all the: āyour characters are well fleshed out, this is a gorgeous line, that scene was breathtaking…etc…ā there was also: āthis situation doesnāt make sense, youāve got to add some scenes so the connection between those 2 is more believable because right now Iām not buying it, and what was that? he/she wouldnāt say that…etcā
Actually, that is an ideal beta reader – what I meant was that Tom probably wished at times that I was just a little less demanding.
In any case Iāve been with the novel for quite a while now, all the way to the editing stages and finally publication. Itās coming out in about 10 days and Iāve lost count of the number of times I read it. Which is why it was such an emotional moment when I finally got an actual copy of it last Friday. It might not have been as defining a moment for me as it was for Tom – because, you know, he actually wrote it – but I did feel a little bit like a godparent when a baby comes into the world. It might not be my baby, but I love it all the same and somehow feel responsible for it.
So I read the novel again – in book form for the first time! – this weekend in my garden. I admit without any shame whatsoever that I cried when I turned the last page. I felt very proud to have played even a small tiny part in the creative process.
What kind of a novel is Unfinished Business? Iām fearful to say very much because if I start I will go on and on, and there will inevitably be spoilers (this isn’t meant to be a review as I can’t write them – I invariably say too much)
Letās refer to the back cover to give you an idea:
āThe Life Assistance Agency finds itself at a loss after returning from Europe.
Ben is determined to stay away from anything involving Angels, when the phone rings to invite him to write the biography of a self-deluded singer from defunct rave group Elev-8.
At his mansion in Sussex they meet the singer’s right-hand man, Billy `blind’ Fury, a retired wrestler, and his beautiful secretary Amber. Both of whom have plans for the Life Assistance Agency far beyond writing down half-recalled anecdotes from the early 90s pop charts…ā
If I absolutely had to, I would describe it as a thriller…a thriller which involves the hopeless but v. funny duo Ben and Scott whom we last saw in The Life Assistance Agency – letās note though that Unfinished Business is a stand alone novel, there really is no requirement to have read the first one to enjoy its sequel.
So Unfinished Business is a thriller…with a little bit of fantasy, wit and humour, with a love story and deep observations about life, a thriller thatās also incredibly well-written with enough tight lines to satisfy the most demanding literature lovers. Tom consistently blows my mind – and my mind is not at all easily blown – because of his fluency with language, the ease with which he writes perfectly gorgeous sentences that are scattered throughout his manuscript like sparkling stars in an already stunning purple summer sky.
Oh, look at that, Iām so in awe of his talent Iām getting lyrical myself!
In all seriousness, what I love about his writing is how he switches between…letās say self-deprecatory wit and…poetic prose…seemingly effortlessly. Iāll be sitting there smiling at a humorous line when suddenly a little jewel of a sentence comes along to take my breath away. Or thereās a tense scene with guns and immediately afterwards a magnificent description of a pier…or something.
Itās like: just when you thought you were reading a book thatās actually really funny,and rather exciting too, the author hits you with the reminder that he can actually write, and write bloody well too.
Did I digress? I probably did a little…so, revenons Ć nos moutons as the French say…
To conclude, Unfinished Business is very much along the lines of what P. G. Wodehouse might have written if he was around today – Unfinished Business is P. G. Wodehouse with guns and car chases.
Ultimately, Unfinished Business is a bloody good story – itās pure blissful escapism…which is the main reason I started reading in the first place.
PS: I loved The Life Assistance Agency – Tomās first book – but I can confidently say that heās managed to write a second novel thatās better than his first. And yes, itās ok for me to write this as Iāve already told him…several times – he canāt have minded because he still thanked me in the acknowledgements.
Never judge a book by its cover ā What you should think.
Always judge a book by its cover āĀ What people really think.
This is one of those blogs on which I upload the picture before Iāve written anything. Iām probably too delighted to put words together or something, but after a few years of tapping away like a mice doing home improvements the new book is ready. Not only that but it has a cover. Unfinished Business, the stand-alone sequel to the Life Assistance Agency, to provide its full title, is ready for the world that is not necessarily ready for it.
The cover is amazing, which I can comfortably claim because I had nothing to do with it. It is courtesy of http://www.nicandlou.com whom also did the first one, so thereās that all important continuity familiar to dog breeders and Star Wars fanatics.
āTrue life is elsewhere. We are not in the world.āArthur Rimbaud
#Writingprompts, if their 20,000 Instagram usage suggests, are very popular, although some way off #cutekitteninbucket. Ā Iāve never been a fan of writing prompts. They sound too deliberate, like intending to do shots before youāve left the house instead of spontaneously deciding eight tequilas is a good idea from the moment you reach the pub. Ā To be fair life is a writing prompt, as anyone whoās written a To-do list with testify. However, I was recently exposed to the most fantastic inspiration for writing at my local B&Q. No, I wasnāt lost, nor was I asking directions to the nearest record shop.
These days there are hash tags for everything, although thereās an odd sweet sense of fresh territory when coining a new one on Instagram and #DIYWritingPrompts was a new one. Ā At least it was yesterday. Imagine beingā¦
Most authors will be familiar with having finished writing a novel. Sometimes itās completed for as long as 24 hours before another rewrite is underway. Thatās fine. Thatās how novels are written, but my 79,000 words of Unfinished Business have been sent to the publisher. There are no more late night edits to be undone in the morning. It will be bound up in proofs the next time I see it, safe from any more changes. It seems a long time ago that a friend suggested I write a short film and I came up with the idea of a retired 80s wrestler who morphed into a character even bigger than Ricky āNastyā Bashcraft, or Giant Haystacks.
Just as its proprietor Scott Wildblood needed a wingman The Life Assistance Agency now has a companion, as thereās nothing worse*Ā than a novel sitting alone, full of friends and enemies bouncing off theā¦
