Savvy Book – Paris Echo

‘Paris Echo’, by Sebastian Faulks.

I’m told that the first sentence is key to writing a bestseller. And, on picking up a copy of Seb’s ‘Paris Echo’, I know this to be true. I read the first sentence:

‘I was taking a pee in the bathroom when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.’ (p.1)

Recalling my own horror on catching a glimpse of my morning face, I’m straight in there, and I read on:

‘My face looked so beautiful that I turned to look more closely, spraying the tiles round the toilet in my hurry. I shook my zib …’ (p.1)

No longer am I at one with the face in the mirror. All empathy vanquished, I’m now with my Cif bathroom cleaner, wiping off the yellowish speckles adorning the tiles round my downstair’s loo! What is it that makes a young man so careful when it comes to his facial appearance, and so careless when it comes to cleaning up his zib?

Time to find out.

I buy the book.

It doesn’t disappoint. The humour continues throughout as the young man in question, Tariq, travels the Parisian underground-train network, fantasising about any living being that happens to be female, and between the ages of eighteen and forty!

The author’s humorous side is juxtaposed with a more-serious tone, as Faulks relays the parallel life of, Hannah, Tariq’s American landlady. Hannah is in Paris confronting her demons, as she struggles to come to terms with the traumatic memory of a failed love affair.

As Hannah finds a new love, Tariq returns to the one he left behind in Morocco and ….

That’s it. That’s it and I’ve already told you too much. If you want the details, you’ll have to purchase the book.

Such a transaction is best performed via my link to Waterstones, i.e. I will then receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself, and I know you would love me to continue with my silly-savvy book reviews, a career choice that is not, on my part, proving to be entirely successful.

Still, I musn’t knock it!

The 40p I have earned so far, is not nothing!

 

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, November 2019

 

Silly-Savvy Cool Rating for ‘Paris Echo’ = 5/5

Other book reviews by Jay Cool:

Savvy Book – My Sister, The Serial Killer

Savvy Book – The Last

Silly Book – The Secret Diary of Boris Johnson

Silly Adventure – Lavenham Village

It’s a Lavenham day! Partly because I’m here to attend a How to Get Published session at the Lavenham Literary Festival; partly because Lavenham gave birth to a significant number of my illustrious ancestors.

 

Sir Harold Cooke was born around 1300,  in Moulsham, Berkshire, before moving to Lavenham, in Suffolk, where he proceeded to populate the village with a long line of descendants. The Cooke family of Lavenham were involved in the drapery trade, until an appointment to the title of Mayor of London, took Sir Robert Cooke, (born about 1392) away from Suffolk. At this point, Sir Robert Cooke, and later descendants, set up home at Gidea Hall in Romford, Essex.

At this branch, the whole-family tree business becomes a little worrying. Hubby is from Romford, in Essex, and there are a number of Cookes in his family tree. Did I marry a something-times-removed cousin? Thought dismissed – gone! I was born in Shropshire, moved all around the British coastline, and ended up in Suffolk – only to couple-up with a … No, not possible!

Whatever. Whenever and wherever. And why?

Time to investigate. If I have a double-claim to the family territories in the property hot-spot of upmarket Lavenham, why do I feel the need to get a book into the list of 2020’s bestsellers?

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With a quick glance back at the church (did a Cooke worship within those walls?), I hop into and out of Phoebe Morgan’s session at the Village Hall, and step out to peruse my land and properties.

Immediately, I feel like I’ve stepped into a scene from the Harry Potter films and, because I have a thing about Diagon Alley’s bookshop, I know I’m home.

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The land that is Lavenham, and all that it contains, is mine, mine, mine!

I can see it now – a miniature Lavenham, made up of an assortment of recycled items: including Toblerones for the triangular roofs, lolly sticks for the wooden support beams, and brown-wrapping paper for the infill bits.

 

And I know just the person for the job!

Sprog 3? Fancy taking on an unpaid commission?

The houses are all very quaint and pretty in a falling-down sort of a way.

But even the grand ones don’t look grand enough to have been the home of the Cookes!

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Sir Harold Cookes, I, II & III, and all of your Ladies,  Sir Norman Cooke and Lady Myrtle Upton, speak to me! Where did you live?

I listen, but the voices don’t come. Perhaps this branch of my tree is just too far removed, and too far up the social hierarchy, to be bothered with the likes of me – a redundant public-sector worker. I mean, just look at the depths to which I have dragged down the gene pool!

Okay Cookies (huh, not so posh with that nickname are you?), if you won’t speak to me in detail, just tell me one thing: Where can I find out more?

lav IIII

Still, the voices hold back … But, it matters not because, after ambling up and down a few side streets, I find myself in a market square.

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Was this once the hub of Lavenham?

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Certainly, I find myself looked down upon by some increasingly prestigious-looking buildings.

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Have I made it into the heartland of the wealthy?

Sir Harold Cooke, can you hear me now?

Harold continues to ignore me and a ‘Tea Room’ sign, adorning some old Guildhall, hints that I might be thirsty. Hmm, but let me think … Should I spend the money? I see a number of books displayed in the neighbouring window. Nothing more to think about! I’m going in …

 

 

 

 

 

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Making a beeline for the books, I forget all about the idea of tea and, instead … find myself paying up for a ticket into a National Trust Museum! How did this happen? Too poverty-stricken to quench my thirst, too classy to purchase a chick-lit, and yet thrifty enough to splash out £8 to fast-track myself into an 18th century workhouse!

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I take a snap of the staircase, after checking that it’s person free. It’s a little alarming, therefore, that the image of a mystery man is present in a doorway off the landing! Is this the spirit of the overseer? If so, then I’m pleased to see that he’s modernised himself with an up-to-date Mountain Warehouse cagoule and designer frames from Specsavers. Never did like the garb worn by that evil geezer who dragged Oliver Twist around by his ears!

Flying up past the 17th century, I wonder how I am ever going to catch up with Sir Harold Cooke; if I want to be in the 14th century, do I need to backtrack into the cellars?

And it is indeed an awful long way up that staircase. Never was any good at the hills – some kind of inherited knee problem! Did one of the Sir Cookes have dodgy knees?

Plus, there’s a ghost at the top!

Anyone fancy joining me in the basement for a spot of wine tasting?

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Sunday 17th November 2019

 

Tour of the Lavenham Guildhall coming up. Watch this space!

In the meantime, please, read, like and comment on the following posts:

Savvy Writing Tips – How to Get Published

Laughter on Location in Lamarsh

Savvy Book – Truth To Power

 

 

 

Silly Poem – Divvy Dong

A response to Boris’ fine use of alliteration in his ‘dribble, drift, delay and dither’ drivel of a ‘Get Brexit Done!’ campaign.

 

Boris, dithering, dipped and dripped.

“Well, I’ll be danged, if I didn’t deliver!” he drivelled, demented,

dribbling, and

delayed.

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 24th November 2019

Image by kie-ker from Pixabay

 

Silly Book – The Secret Diary of Boris Johnson

Silly Letter – Dear Boris

Silly Poem – The Sameness of Buns

In protest against the standards of sameness in bun-size, required by Pru & Co. in today’s episode of Junior British Bake-Off.

 

All similar and consistent in size,

great texture and beautifully shaped,

well-coloured and spiced,

looks lovely and tastes delicious,

but missing a bit of the … indefinable

three-dimensional character

that comes with being

odd, wonky and

perfect.

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Sunday 24th November 2019

Image by monicore from Pixabay

Silly Poem – Rumblings

Serious Poem – Ironing

Savvy Writing Tips – How to Get Published

Silly Poem – Rumblings

The rumbling gets to me in the way a not great thing grates upon a person.

All of the rumbles and snorts and puffs intrude upon my sense of who I am and

interfere with that which might be the continuation of myself,

if it were allowed to continue, undisturbed by the inconvenience of the inconvenient.

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, November 2019

 

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

 

Savvy Writing Tips – How to Get Published

Savvy Book – My Sister, The Serial Killer

Serious Poem – Ironing

Ironing out my thoughts,

I try to think the bumps away …

I can’t.

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, November 2019

Savvy Book – My Sister, The Serial Killer

*See disclaimer at foot of post.

‘My Sister, The Serial Killer’, by Oyinkan Braithwaite.

Why buy a book duty-bound to give one nightmares?

Because it has an attractive cover? Can a nightmare even have an attractive cover?

Think about it.

What could be more appealing, to a cult-follower of Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’, than a lime-green book title, offering to serve up the innards of a serial killer.

Flicking through the book, I come across this sentence:

‘She has unwrapped the amala and dipped it in the soup before my mother and I have finished serving ourselves.’

I’m a great fan of dunking my nosh in home-cooked soup, so I make the purchase and dip in!

Rather disappointingly, the soup in question does not turn out to contain anybody’s innards! Nonetheless, I gobble up the whole book in one sitting. Some might think me rather morbid to be sitting on a cliff-edge, up on the highlands of Suffolk, waiting to see who a young woman murders next. But, if you too, were sitting there – not with me on the cliff-top (comes with a caution) – but there, somewhere in your own reading space, you too would be unable to resist.

And if, like myself, not only are you a fan of gothic literature, but also of Mrs Hinch and her cleaning tips, you will soon abandon your household chores for the alternative of watching as Braithwaite’s main character does the cleaning:

‘The cabinet under the sink is filled with everything required to tackle dirt and disease – gloves, bleach, disinfectant wipes, disinfectant spray, sponge, toilet bowl cleaner, all-purpose cleaner, multi-surface cleaner, bowl brush plunger and caddy, and odor-shield trash bags. I slip on the gloves and take out the multi-surface cleaner. I need some time to think.’ (Braithwaite, p.97)

No thinking required in my case. The evidence is all laid bare! Is there something us readers don’t yet know about the Hincher?

Are my Hincher-hunches right or, being Jay Cool, am I sniffing around under the wrong sink? Purchase this don’t-stop-until-finished read, take a note of the evidence, and decide for yourself!

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, November 2019

Silly-savvy rating: 5/5

P.S. If you really get into the whole psychological-thriller thing, and find yourself out of affordable reading material, try a bumper collection of novels from The Book People, such as this trio by Debbie Howells!

 

Disclaimer: Should you choose to make a purchase, via one of the links, I will receive a commission from the supplier at no extra cost to yourself.

Other posts by Jay Cool:

Savvy Writing Tips – How to Get Published

Savvy Comedy – Jobseekers

Savvy Book – Truth To Power

To Everywhere – Fleetwood, Lancashire, 1976

‘

 

Savvy Writing Tips – How to Get Published

Indeed, how?

Beats me. I’ve reached my target of 38,000ish words. What now? How do I get someone, something, somewhere, to publish the thing? Is it enough of a more of a thing to take a publisher’s fancy?

In hope of being given all the answers, I take myself out of my cave, rev up DD (my Dacia Sandero), and chunter over to Lavenham.

Lavenham is, this weekend, home to the ‘Lavenham Literary Festival’. Thanks to my local library, I picked up a booklet of events a few days ago, and settled upon losing £10 of well-earned dosh (my dwindling redundancy pay), for a booking on session manned (personned? wommaned?) by Phoebe Morgan.

Phoebe Morgan, for the ignorant (i.e. myself – first time I’d heard of her too – sorry Phoebe!), is the highly-regarded author of bestselling novels ‘The Doll House’ and ‘The Girl Next Door’ (available at Waterstones). And if Phoebe can do it, the surely I, Jay Cool, can follow suit.

I’m told there’s a free car-park right adjacent to the venue, Lavenham Village Hall, but the only thing that finds itself parked there is me. En route to my destination, I spot a free-er than free car-parking space, next to the church.

Recalling that, on my last Sunday morning visit, my church attendance (compulsory when one’s mum is a guest at one’s abode), was rewarded by a post-service browse in the church’s secondhand bookshop, I force DD to screech to a halt (not difficult – she stalls all the time anyway!).

Book buying = favourite pastime = a love-affair with Lavenham church!

But being a negligent sort of a lover, I wait until my feet are almost at the Village Hall, before turning back to take a pic from whence I came:

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No, I have to remind myself. No, I am not in Lavenham to buy books. And, yes, I am in Lavenham to steal the wisdom of Phoebe Morgan.

As such, I step over the threshold of the Village Hall, resist the momentary temptation of a selection of withdrawn library books on sale in the entrance foyer, and ascend to the Upper Room.

Phoebe Morgan awaits. And, I can’t believe it! She’s dressed in a Princess Beatrice lookalike dress, a long-green-floral affair, and a pair of mock-animal-skin shoes. All very stylish but, in all likeliness, not at all cheap. I must tell Phoebe about my own fashion brand and save her a few pennies on her next statement piece.

In the interim, I feel I owe it to you, my readers, to share with you the key points I managed to extract (in-between my daydreams of fame) from Phoebe’s presentation.

  • Decide on your genre, as publishers like to categorise things.
  • Decide whether to go commercial (plot-driven, rather than character-driven) or literary (open to analytical interpretation).
  • Write the whole manuscript before approaching a publisher.
  • Don’t bother with the publisher – they don’t have time to read every Tom, Dick and Harry’s (or Tilly, Donna and Henrietta’s) submissions!
  • Submit your manuscript to an Agency instead but, first, strut your stuff with a pitch.
  • In your pitch, be sure to include:
    • an opening paragraph, that sums up your book in one sentence
    • a comparison with two similar books in that genre
    • a little about yourself, inc. any social-media presence
    • a synopsis (no more than a page)
    • and your plans for a follow-up book
    • the first three chapters of your manuscript
  • Submit and wait (possibly for a long time!).
  • Get on with writing your next book, or take a long sleep.

Being the irritating sort of a person I am, I butt in with a question: ‘Which agency, from your list of suggestions, would be best for the what’s-it-called genre?’ Phoebe politely asks me to chat with her after the presentation, due to time limitations. And this Post-Session Invitation turns out to be just the invitation that I need for a little bit of self-centred networking.

Courtesy of my own photography and blurb, and a discount code for vistaprint, I have in my possession 500 very snazzy (and savvy) business cards to dispose of.

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And where better to grab a little bit of audience for myself, than in the queue of literati types, all waiting to grab the attention of Phoebe?

Few manage to leave the premises without pocketing at least one of my cards. One very lucky lady almost left with three, after I accosted her three times with my offer (orange-headed bloggers, like their goldfish cousins, being narcissistic, have very short memories for the faces of others (1)).

It’s worth the queuing for a brief exchange with Phoebe. I give her my business card, attempt to purchase a signed copy of ‘The Doll House’, and ask away about agencies and fame, etc.

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She directs me towards a book stall from whence I can buy one of her books, and very kindly and generously says she’ll be in touch with a suggestion with regards to an agency.

It didn’t help, I don’t expect, that I was non-too specific about the genre of my manuscript.

Is there a Jay Cool genre?

Copyright of text and images owned by Jay Cool, Sunday 17th November, 2019

P.S. Just checked out my book and discovered I’ve managed to obtain what was probably the only non-pre-signed copy in the venue! Guessing I was supposed to have rejoined the Phoebe queue?

(1) A scientific fact only in the glass-bowl world of Jay Cool. With no hope of a break-out, from the dome (2) I inhabit, I am forced, on a daily basis, to stare at my own reflection.
(2) My dome is a cave on a cliff-top in Suffolk, which just happens to be lined with mirrors.

To find out more about Jay Cool’s trip to the village of Lavenham (home of my ancestor Sir Norman Cooke, born 1360), Suffolk; or, for review of ‘The Doll House’, please see below for links to my follow-up posts!

In the meantime, here’s a sneak preview of some of my prize-winning photography (competition held by my one and only friend, for which I was the only entrant):

REWARD OFFERED FOR ANY INFORMATION ON SHREWSBURY PRISON ESCAPEE, LAST SIGHTED IN LAVENHAM, SUFFOLK!

REWARD = FREE ENTRY TO SUFFOLK PUNCH COMEDY CLUB GIG, FIRST WEDS OF THE MONTH @ THE BREWERY TAP, EAST STREET, SUDBURY, SUFFOLK – 8PM 

Follow-up posts:

Silly-Savvy Travel – Lavenham

Silly Adventure – Lavenham Guildhall

Savvy Book – The Doll House

 

Savvy Writing Tips – How to Write a Whole Book

Okay, so I did it. Not only have I, for the first time, written more than six chapters of a book, I have actually finished the thing. Incredible!

How?

After a day of sulking with myself about being a waster, i.e. never finishing any of my grand book-writing schemes, I asked myself why? Why is it that I always come to a standstill somewhere around Chapter? The answer was simple.

I have a small brain and an even smaller part of it that is my memory. You see, by the time I get to chapter six, I generally manage to convince myself that I deserve a prolonged break: a day out charity-shop browsing, a catch-up with an old friend, or (even more exciting!), a day tidying up Sprog 3’s rubbish tip. And therein lies the problem.

The break.

After just a day out of it, I return to my masterpiece of an incomplete book, and find that – surprise, surprise – I cannot remember the finer details. Which character was it who lost his memory? And which character was so-and-so’s half-sister, and did the siblings share a mum or a dad?

I scroll back to chapter 2, then forward to chapter 4, then back to chapter 1, and then … I feel dizzy. Too much scrolling, too much time wasted and all enthusiasm gone! At this point, I hear Ancestry.com calling me, telling me that I have more DNA matches to explore, more hints to delve into. The chapters – all six of them – are abandoned, as I find my family tree branching out into all directions, never reaching a conclusion, just going on and on and on …

Now, if only I had been able to devote so much time and attention to my writing ambitions, my book might also have gone on and on and on … instead of coming to an incomplete and final breakdown.  Like my family tree, it lacks an ending, but unlike my family tree, its bud hasn’t even got as producing the foliage.

The solution? Don’t stop!

Don’t shop, don’t gossip, don’t clean, and don’t, just don’t, do anything other than write.

Breaks are for numpties.

And, thanks to this very simple plan, I am now the proud owner of a completed manuscript, which even has the added bonus feature of the chapter 1 of the sequel. Wow!

Jay Cool’s Simple Plan:

  1. Drop sprogs at respective schools and return to base.
  2.  Starting at 9am, sharp, begin to type.
  3. Keep going until a minimum of 5,000 words has been produced.
  4.  Greet sprogs as they return from school and procure some nosh for them.
  5.  Tell sprogs to do their homework.
  6.  Fill up the dishwasher and watch telly.
  7.  Tell sprogs to get off their laptops and go to bed.
  8.  Go to bed.
  9.  Repeat the above as many times as it takes for your word target to be reached or exceeded (in my case, 38,000 words).
  10.  Write first chapter of next book.

Word of warning: Do not allow anyone else to read even the first page of your complete novel, unless you want to be told to start the whole process all over again from scratch (cheers, Hubby!).

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 18th November, 2019

A Silly Poem – No Views

Savvy Book – Truth To Power

A Silly Poem – No Views

No views.

Is business a card, distributed to many,

if the many see no purpose

in following it

through?

Have I been reduced to a card of many that

produces nothing?

Am I a reduction?

Will someone find me, someday, in the pocket of a charity shop jacket,

and will they pick me up and follow me through?

And will they find me,

a value-added

bonus,

still here?

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 18th November 2019

Image by Jay Cool