MARCH 2025
Okay, we’re back on track. So, if you’re in need of a bit of escapism, how about a journey to Neptune to brighten up the fickle month of March?
At nearly 60,000 words, what was originally intended to be a short story to take advantage of a free couple of months while I was waiting for feedback on the first draft of the Mars story has turned into a short (by my standards) novel. But I like to think that it rattles along, as we fly from the moons of Jupiter to our dreaded destination, taking in Saturn and Uranus on the way.
I’ve billed it as a “whodunnit in space”, and here it is, free to download to the device of your choice (until August). The cover is perhaps my favourite so far!
Not much more to say at this point. When the Mars book launches in May (also free for the first few days!), I expect I’ll be begging you to read it and leave a review on Amazon, but it would be wrong to try to make you feel there was any kind of obligation.
The book, on the other hand, is all about perceived obligations and responsibilities, and even if I’d promised myself not to bore you this month with my own personal take on the world of politics/entertainment from my European location and Anglo-American cultural perspective, I can’t resist making a couple of observations about recent events from a writer’s point of view, because it seems to me that we’re currently witnessing an important redefinition of the concepts of believable characters and dialogue.
Let’s start with dialogue. How would it sound, for example, if we took the exchanges from the Trump- Vance-Zelenskyy meeting last week and made the year 1941? The meeting is between President Roosevelt and his vice-president (I think it was Wallace, a few years before Truman took over) and Winston Churchill, who – shortly before Pearl Harbour – is trying to persuade the US to join the “allies” (apologies if you’re German, Japanese etc. or just bored already) in the Second World War. How would that work? And what would be the expression on Churchill’s face if he was asked: “Have you said thank you once, in this entire meeting?”
(I know Churchill spoke rather better English than Zelenskyy – who should have had an interpreter – and probably wouldn’t have kicked things off by suggesting that the Americans were lucky to have the ocean between them and Hitler, although he would almost certainly have admitted that only the North Sea had saved Britain so far.)
And in terms of characters, I can’t help feeling that a movie audience would simply burst out laughing if James Bond entered the room and the villain of the story grabbed hold of a chainsaw, held it up in the air with a manic expression on his face and shouted: “Chainsaw!” Suddenly, Dr No is as scary as the guy who works in the local pharmacy and frowns at you when you pick up your prescription, while Blofeld reminds you of that fellow in accounts who would love to have a white cat but is worried that the hairs would show on his fake leather armchair.
But perhaps we’re supposed to laugh at the show, and it is all a game in which most of us haven’t really got the cards? Maybe the idea is that you have to become a billionaire before you’re allowed to start having fun in today’s world, and I need to work harder at persuading you to part with your hard- earned cash rather than giving these books away like a goddamn fool!!!