Top tips from Authors.

The Guardian has a couple of webpages outlining ten points of advice about writing fiction from famous authors such as Zadie Smith, Neil Gaiman, PD James and Margaret Atwood. Some are concise, others more detailed. All are worth reading if you write fiction.

See:
ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one
and
10-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-two

I do not agree with some of these, but then I'm not a famous published author. The process of writing is as individual as the pieces that are produced, and what works for Margaret Atwood may not work for you, and vice versa. Some are downright contradictory.

For instance, one piece of PD James' advice is:

'Read widely and with discrimination. Bad writing is contagious',

whilst AL Kennedy's is:

'Read. As much as you can. As deeply and widely and nourishingly and ­irritatingly as you can. And the good things will make you remember them, so you won't need to take notes',

and Will Self's:

'Stop reading fiction – it's all lies anyway, and it doesn't have anything to tell you that you don't know already (assuming, that is, you've read a great deal of fiction in the past; if you haven't you have no business whatsoever being a writer of fiction)'.

There are some real gems in these two articles. If you are writing fiction, read them. At the very least it is an impressive insight into the mind of some famous authors.

Book review: "The Olive Route", by Carol Drinkwater

In her earlier books (such as the excellent 'The Olive Farm') Carol Drinkwater details her rather impetuous purchase of a decrepit olive farm in southern France, and the gradual restoration of the farm and the surrounding olive groves. In the process, she fell in love with the history and lore of the humble olive.

In this book, she attempts a journey around the Mediterranean on a quest for the oldest olive tree. The trials and tribulations of her journey, and the characters she meets, makes this book a vivid read. She displays a rather cavalier attitude to her own safety as she visits countries as varied as Turkey, Lebanon, Libya and Israel.

My own relationship with the olive is far from positive. I can scarcely walk past the olive counter at Waitrose without feeling nauseous from the sickly-sweet smell. I hate the smell and the taste. Part of this is undoubtedly due to lack of familiarity; as far as I can recall, olives were never around our kitchen when I grew up as a child, and my tastes are remarkably plain. Perhaps the delightful olive is a little too exotic for my northern European taste buds. As can be imagined, this causes a few problems with my Turkish wife, who enjoys wafting them under my nose just to see the reaction.

Despite this, the book was a real eye-opener. I remember reading the story of Noah and the dove bearing an olive branch, and the fact that the olive branch is an international symbol of peace. The book reveals aspects of history that I had never considered. Carol Drinkwater details this very well. Her journey reveals a rich history stretching back nearly as far as civilisation itself.

In some ways the book attempts a view of the history of civilisation through the history of the olive tree; an interesting idea that is not quite pulled off in totality. Yet it does show that the olive tree has had a massive effect on Mediterranean cultures, and therefore on world history.

I give this book four out of five stars. Read it with an olive resting in your favourite drink.

North Korea

For some time I have held a slight fascination for North Korea, one of the few countries in the world that is trying to remain true to Communist ideals.

Although I am by no way a Communist, I find the way the politics moulds Communist countries fascinating. When I was growing up in the eighties we were told stories of the problems existing within the USSR - lack of basic human rights, no free speech, food queues, and so on. It became obvious after Chernobyl and the fall of the Berlin Wall that these concerns had, if anything, been underplayed.

Yet that same system produced great technical advancements - after all, they got the first man into space, humiliating the capitalist US. Therefore, in some ways at least, Communism could be seen to work. As history showed, it was also doomed to fail. It failed in Russia, and even China has been forced into a weird capitalist economy / totalitarian state hybrid.

Therefore it was with great interest that I found a section on the Wandering Camera website that details the experiences of a Russian staying in Pyongyang, North Korea. It is particularly interesting as he manages to compare and contrast the situation in North Korea with the USSR in the the eighties.

One of the things that struck me most was some of the architecture in the public areas. The pages on the Pyongyang underground shows some truly superb structures, beautifully lit, that puts the stations on the Jubilee Line extension of the London Underground to shame. In some ways, it is reminiscent of images I have seen of stations on the Moscow underground. I have an abiding love of detailed architecture, something that has gone out of fashion in many Western countries. We think the grand is fine, but detail is too often seen as being expensive frippery.

Another thing to note in the photographs is the utter lack of advertising. I am so used to advertising that it took me a few minutes to realise why the pictures of even so-so streets looked so uniform - there were no adverts to spoil the monotony / beauty. Also, there was no graffiti. Are these minor advantages to a totalitarian system?

The tourists were not allowed to travel without guides. This led to what appeared to be a slightly surreal situation, with only the best side of the country being presented. In one place, the author suspected a fountain was switched on specifically for their visit. Foreigners go to special markets, and not to the ones frequented by the general population.

Although there is cellular coverage in the country, a mobile would cost what the average person earns in about a year. This is a staggering statistic, and one which shows that even in this socialist state, money is spent on projects that advantage the few, not the many.

At the end of the day, that is perhaps the most damning thing I can say. Although capitalism is far from perfect, the way it is practiced in the west means that at least the people are (relatively) free within loose bounds. People can work hard and gain advantage from their hard work. And, in most European countries at least, there is a welfare system to help those who fall through the cracks. Perhaps our admittedly imperfect system is the best of both worlds.

However, I would still like to see a truly beautiful station on the London Underground...

Review of 'Marnie', by Winston Graham

Please note that this review contains plot spoilers.

I first read Marnie when my parents bought me a second-hand Readers Digest condensed book whilst I was recovering from an operation back in 1988. Of the four stories in that book, Marnie, by Winston Graham, captivated me utterly. Readers Digest condensed books are disliked by many - and perhaps rightly so - but Marnie got under my skin. I still have the condensed book, which has probably been read well over a dozen times.

Towards the end of last year I coincidentally read all twelve books of the 'Poldark' series. These proved to be a highly enjoyable read, and I was surprised to see that they were also written by Winston Graham. Then, at a fete in September, I found a 1974-issue paperback of the full novel 'Marnie' on a second-hand stall.

It took me six months to start reading it. There were several reasons for this: firstly, I wanted to finish off the Poldark books; secondly, I preferred to read books that I had not read before. The main reason, however, was that I loved the condensed book so much, and I was afraid that the full novel would somehow be disappointing.

I need not have worried.

Marnie tells the story of Marnie, a young English woman at the start of the 1960s. It is clear from the very start of the novel that she is a thief - she joins a company as a secretary, waits until payday, then steals the payroll. She invents identities and throws them away at will - in one company she is Mollie Jeffrey; at another, Mary Taylor. This leads to the central question of the book: who is Marnie?

Unfortunately for Marnie, she commits one crime too many. Whilst working at a printing firm in London she comes to the attention of a director, Mark Rutland, a young widower, who falls in love with her. She steals the payroll and takings, and disappears. Mark discovers the theft and replaces the money out of his own pocket. Then he sets out to track Marnie down...

There are two loves in Marnie's life: her mother, a widower living in Plymouth, and Forio, an ex-racehorse she bought with the takings of her earlier crimes. Her love for Forio is superbly written, and it becomes obvious that her only true relationship is with the horse. All of her other relationships are, to varying degrees, lies.

Mark tracks Marnie down and forces her to marry him. This is the one piece of the book that unsettles me - he rapes her on their honeymoon. Afterwards he realises that she is physically repulsed - not by him, but by the mere concept of sex. He bribes her into seeing a psychiatrist, who starts getting a little too near the truth for her liking.

A business partner and rival of Mark suspects there is something dark in Marnie's past and starts digging. He soon realises that she is not who she claims to be. He is driven by a combination of jealousy, pettiness and hatred for Mark.

As events close in on Marnie, she and Mark go on a hunt. As she sees a fox being butchered she flees on Forio, riding off in a random direction, letting Forio run. Mark follows. She jumps a hedge to find a stream on the other side. This is, for me, the most powerful part of the book. Mark follows her over the hedge and ends up lying face-down in the mud.

That noise, that unbearable noise, was coming from Forio.
He was trying to get up but he couldn't. I pulled myself up and fell down again, got up again, staggered towards him. Then I saw Mark. He was lying very still. I ran towards Forio.

Her husband is lying unconscious in the mud, and her first reaction is to run towards her horse. This one snippet details her utter disconnection with the rest of humanity.

She tries to steal the company's payroll as Mark is recovering in hospital. She finds herself in front of the open safe, unable to bring herself to take the money. Instead she flees down to Plymouth, only to find that her mother has just died. This leads to the unveiling of the truth behind her past, and the reason she has chosen to live her life as a series of ever-changing identities.

After her mother's funeral she is tracked down by Mark's business partner, who returns her to London. Once there, he takes her to meet representatives of the companies she has stolen from. She is faced with a choice: to run, or to face up to her past and her crimes. She chooses the latter, anchored by Mark's love for her.

As with all Graham books, it is essentially a character piece. Marnie's character is so brilliantly written - the reader should dislike her as much as she dislikes herself, but in the end she turns out to be a captivating creature. Mark's character is also superb - he loves Marnie utterly, and will do anything to help her, whatever the cost. Yet Marnie does not want to help herself, as that would mean facing up to her past.

In 1964 Hitchcock made the book into a film starring Sean Connery. I cannot stress how much I hate the film. For one thing, Hitchcock changed the action from England to Philadelphia, and thus lost the quintessential English character of the book. Additionally, Marnie's character and motivations were very much moulded by the hardships of the Second World War.

All in all, I love this book as much as when I first read it. It is very much a book set in that post-war period; Marnie's life and crimes would be very different nowadays. I give this book five out of five stars. Highly recommended.

Climate change.

It should be obvious that I am in that much-pilloried camp of 'climate change sceptic'. If you believe some people, then I am a flat-earthist conspiracy-theorist traitor who should be put on trial for high crimes against humanity. Yes, those are all quotes from influential people or organisations (Gordon Brown, the New Statesman, Robert Kennedy Jr, and NASA's James Hansen). Climate depot has many more of these lovely, though-provoking claims.

Strangely enough, I do not agree with this characterisation. Firstly, what is my position:

1. Climate change happens.
2. Man is having an effect on the climate.
3. That effect is caused by many things - greenhouse gasses (CO2, Methane, Ozone etc), black soot, water vapour and others.
4. Splitting man's effect on the climate from the natural variations is extremely difficult and is based on vague assumptions. Although we are having an effect (see 2), we have no way of knowing with any accuracy what that is.
   
5. Concentrating on CO2 ignores the other causes (see 3).
   
6. We have little idea beyond vague estimations of the sizes of the land and sea carbon sinks.
7. Scientists have proved extremely bad at predicting the future in complex systems - see the spread of bird flu, CJD, Swine flu, long-term weather forecasting and the financial systems.
   
8. Best, middle and worst cases should always be being presented, with details on the confidence levels. The media only ever reports the worst case ("Oh my God! We're all going to drown"). Experts routinely outline the worst case when interviewed.
9. I want a better climate. Simple laws like the various Clean-Air Acts have massively improved the lifestyle of people living in the relevant countries. Lower exhaust emissions from vehicles would likewise be a boon.
10. They have got it wrong before. (Actually, Hansen's paper is good in that it does show three different scenarios. One of the the things under dispute is which one he meant).
    
11. A great deal of the future effect of climate change will depend on the past variability of both temperature and CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere - and the CRU emails show that such past data is hard to obtain (and, perhaps, easy to fiddle).
12. Even the current temperature is hard to measure to the required accuracy.
    
13. And finally, just to show I am an evil baby-killing real right-winger, I want energy security.
    

In the next post, I shall outline the way we *should* be tackling these problems.

Two well-deserved congratulations

I have written on a couple of occasions about Airbus's and Boeing's inability to get a couple of major projects into the air - Airbus's military freightlifter the A400M and Boeing's next-generation passenger airliner the 787.

Well, on the morning of the 1th the A400M made its first flight. Then, five days later, I set up my laptop to watch the first flight of the 787 unfold in front of me live.

So Airbus beat Boeing by a few days in this particular battle. Both projects are in trouble - the 787 is reportedly overweight, and the long delays in the A400M project is causing countries to pull out - but I send heartfelt congratulations to all the teams involved.

There is a long way to go before they can go into full production, and as the A380 projects showed, first flight is not a guarantee that the project will not hit other hurdles. Yet it is an important milestone. Well done to Boeing and Airbus.

My wife

I had an official sort of phone call today, during which I realised how much I love saying, 'my wife'. Not for the 'my' part, for I have about as much chance of possessing Şencan as I do the Statue of Liberty; no, I love the idea of having a wife as beautiful and as intelligent as her. I love being able to tell the world that this woman chose to marry me. And I am honoured by the fact that, in some moment of insanity, she chose to ask me to be her husband.

I love her utterly.

Looking at that photo, who can blame me?



P.s: And yes, the photo was taken at a dockyard. I know how to treat women well...