Funny thing, writing. The worst part, or maybe the best, is that it’s highly addictive.
Even when it goes badly you plough on, knowing there’s a spark of light somewhere ahead.
And your cast of characters won’t leave you alone. They want to be out and about, trading dialogue, blows or bullets, making love or consuming more than the recommended alcohol limits.
They are like friends nagging the stay-at-home one to come and join the party.
And they are very persuasive.
It was a big boost to see Death Squad – my second Danny Lancaster crime-thriller – in the Amazon ebook top 1,000 last week.
A very positive response included a review by Peter Thornton in The Sun that said: “Danny Lancaster is once again up to his neck in mayhem, managing to get his name in the frame for a nasty multiple murder. Rock dinosaurs Death Squad are in danger of being rendered extinct by particularly inventive hired killers. Great stuff, with lots of bodice-ripping – by both bullet and basic instinct. Go on, give your Kindle a treat.”
Not all reader reaction has been undiluted praise but that’s how a writer learns. And I’m suspicious of books that only attract 5* ratings, nothing’s that good.
That said, the first Danny book – The Wreck Of The Margherita – has enjoyed some very flattering comments including comparisons with Elmore Leonard and the suggestion it would make a Guy Ritchie movie. (You can reach me through my website, Guy).
I’m also learning a lot from my ongoing Q&A with the Facebook Twit Lits Books Club who had The Wreck Of The Margherita as their read for May.
Danny3 is currently just a swirl of ideas, snatches of dialogue, glimpses of half-hidden faces.
But I can hear voices. Danny’s coming back.
Zigzaging through my “To Read” shelf, I have finished Philip Kerr’s Bernie Gunther thriller Field Grey. It’s a rollercoaster through the wreckage of post-war Europe as allies battle for advantage in the emerging Cold War. There are twists within turns as world-weary Bernie schemes to keep his self-respect and his life.
…and finally, I heard a gigantic frog approaching. Big loud croaks. An old guy apologised, saying his plastic shoes had got wet and he couldn’t stop the noise. He could be missing out on a fortune in novelty footwear. Never lose your kids on the beach again.