Frankie's Letter

I Spy....



The big news of the week is that Frankie’s Letter is published!  It’s available from Amazon, from me (have a look at the Books page on the website) and, as they say, all good bookshops.  If the bookshop you’re in hasn’t got it, then you have my absolute approval to query if the aforesaid bookshop is as good as purports to be.  Unless, of course, it’s one of those specialist bookshops selling books only about Neuroscience, Horses, How To Grow Grass That Your Neighbours Will Envy, Tiddlywinks or whatever.

Frankie’s Letter isn’t a Jack story but a spy thriller set in the First World War.  I originally self-published it on Kindle, but was delighted when Severn House decided to buy it.  The cover, I think, look great, and there’s something about holding a “real” book that the Kindle, despite its many virtues, just can’t match.

One of the challenges of writing a spy story set in the First World War is conveying to the reader just how new (and amateur) the Secret Service was.  We’re used to James Bond and his gadgets and Smiley’s smoke-filled rooms, but this is a different era, an era where an individual not only made a huge difference to the Service but actually was the Service.

I thought the best way to explain the time and the atmosphere of the story was to write an introduction.  Here it is.  I hope you enjoy it and I really hope you enjoy Frankie’s Letter

Historical Note

Frankie’s Letter is, of course, fiction, but one of its chief characters, Sir Charles Talbot, is based upon a real person.

William Melville, the man who would become the Secret Service’s “M”, was an Irishman, born in poverty in County Kerry in 1850.  He ran away from home and in 1872 joined the London police. He made a name for himself as a quick-witted and capable officer, who, among other things, arrested Fenians and anarchists, was involved in the search for Jack The Ripper and was appointed as the Royal bodyguard.  He retired, at the peak of his career, in 1903, with the rank of superintendent.

The retirement was fictional; what Melville actually did was to set up a small office near Scotland Yard under the name and title of W. Morgan, General Agent. As W. Morgan, he looked after both espionage and counter-espionage. His job was entirely hands-on.  That not only suited Melville’s character, it was necessary.  As he had agents but no staff, he had little choice.

In 1909, the service expanded, taking on Captain Vernon Kell, of the South Staffordshire Regiment and the flamboyant, sword-stick wielding ex-Naval officer, Mansfield Smith-Cunningham (“C”) to run various sections of the infant service.  All three men, in their separate offices strung out along the Thames, were unofficially supported and officially unacknowledged by the government – a state of affairs which suited the modest William Melville very well indeed.

If anyone is interested in finding out more about this fascinating man, I can recommend Andrew Cook’s M: M15’s First Spymaster as a reliable and thoroughly absorbing account.

Jack's First Three Adventures on Kindle!

The big news of my week has been the publication of the first three Jack Haldean novels on Kindle!

Here's the link for Amazon.co.uk

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_8?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=dolores+gordon+smith&sprefix=Dolores+%2Cdigital-text%2C296

And here's the link for amazon.com (USA)

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=node%3D1286228011&field-keywords=Dolores+Gordon+smith&rh=n%3A133140011%2Cn%3A%21133143011%2Cn%3A%21251259011%2Cn%3A1286228011%2Ck%3ADolores+Gordon+smith

They've been published as part of Severn House's Severn Select programme and the prices are very reasonable, at £3.60 in the UK and five dollars-ish in the USA.  So, if you missed Jack's first adventures, here's a chance to catch up.

I was very iffy about the idea of Kindles when they first came out.  I know some people don't like them, missing the touch and feel of a "real" book.  However, I took the plunge and was surprised how easy it was to use. It's certainly easier to travel with!  I used to take a stack of books on holiday with me (goodness knows why, as our holidays never have that chilled out, relaxing quality I always feel they should!) but now I've got one slim kindle and that's that.   As to which kindle to buy... Now that's another story!

On a completely different subject, i'm still in mourning for the Olympics, particularly now the Paralympics have been and gone.  Even the dog, Lucky (aka Tripod) decided to join in the games.

Still, Andy Murray did win the US Open.  Watch him on the Head advert on Youtube – Wow!

It was Dad's 90th birthday last weekend and, as you can imagine, the party was ace!  The weekend started off well, with an entire church-full of people all singing "Happy Birthday To You!" followed by a small party, then a bigger one and then a very big one up at the local tennis club where Dad's been a member since 1946!

As part of the party, we had a sort of "This is your life" presentation, with speeches and pictures, charting the last 90 years, lots to drink, lots to eat and lots of catching up with old friends and members of the family we hadn't seen for 

90 years ago takes us back to 1922, of course.  Here's some of the things which have changed since then.

In 1922 petrol (not that many people had cars) was 2 shillings a gallon, a bottle of Scotch was 12 shillings and sixpence and a pint of bitter was 5 old pennies.  That's 10 pence, 63 pence and 2 pence respectively.

The average wage - here's the rub - was £2.95 for men and £1.42 for women. Talking of working women, the first woman solicitor was admitted to practice in 1922.  Footballers were well paid, even if they didn't have the superstar salaries of today, with a maximum wage of £8 a week agreed.

In the news was Howard Carter, who discovered the tomb of King Tut, and diabetes sufferers were relieved by the introduction of insulin.  Cheese sandwiches became tastier with Branston pickle available for the first time

For entertainment, the evenings were enlightened by broadcasts from 2LO, as the BBC was first known and in the cinema the top films were Nanook of the North and the Last of the Mohicans.  Just William topped the books of the year (quite rightly - William is brilliant) and, on the newly invented radio, the top songs were Jeannie with the light brown hair  and Toot Toot Tootsie.

It's  been an interesting 90 years!

90 years ago takes us back to 1922, of course.  Here's some of the things which have changed since then.

In 1922 petrol (not that many people had cars) was 2 shillings a gallon, a bottle of Scotch was 12 shillings and sixpence and a pint of bitter was 5 old pennies.  That's 10 pence, 63 pence and 2 pence respectively.

The average wage - here's the rub - was £2.95 for men and £1.42 for women. Talking of working women, the first woman solicitor was admitted to practice in 1922.  Footballers were well paid, even if they didn't have the superstar salaries of today, with a maximum wage of £8 a week agreed.

In the news was Howard Carter, who discovered the tomb of King Tut, and diabetes sufferers were relieved by the introduction of insulin.  Cheese sandwiches became tastier with Branston pickle available for the first time

For entertainment, the evenings were enlightened by broadcasts from 2LO, as the BBC was first known and in the cinema the top films were Nanook of the North and the Last of the Mohicans.  Just William topped the books of the year (quite rightly - William is brilliant) and, on the newly invented radio, the top songs were Jeannie with the light brown hair  and Toot Toot Tootsie.

It's been an interesting 90 years!htffgfhhhhhhhhjgjgjjyjyjyjyjyjjjjjnnnnn

Missing the Olympics

I don't know about you, but I'm suffering from POST, or Post Olympic Stress Trauma.  I'll be absolutely honest and admit that, although I was quite looking forward to the sport-fest, I wasn't counting the minutes or anything.  Then, when than blow-you-away opening ceremony was followed by all sorts of sturdy souls rowing, biking, swimming, shooting and fencing and so on, I couldn't move from in front of the telly.

When I did move, it was with the radio glued to my ear to catch the latest from Eton Dorney or the Equestrian events at Greenwich.  The true weirdness of sports such as handball (a walkover for the Argentines, you'd think - they can always be relied on to put a ball in the back of the net using their hands) and the unconfined hilarity of the Olympic Walk where everyone looks like Donald Duck were revealed.

Now it's all over, I feel like putting up hula-hoops in the form of olympic rings, in the hope they'll be tempted back, like some Greater Manchester version of a cargo cult, but reason tells me that the only thing to do is to sit it out until the para-Olympics.

Apart from anything else, it was brilliant to see everyone looking so cheerful all the time. Even - get this - Andy Murray.  Come to think about it, we were all ,ore than a bit cheerful about that one.  In his 28 Days Later thriller, Murray bit back. Wow.

There's been an awful lot said about the Olympics "inspiring a generation".  All I was really inspired to do was to Velcro myself to the sofa for a fortnight, but I get the point. It was like a shop window for all sorts of sports that look soooo much fun.   Anyone for Beach Volleyball?

When I did move, it was with the radio glued to my ear to catch the latest from Eton Dorney or the Equestrian events at Greenwich.  The true weirdness of sports such as handball (a walkover for the Argentines, you'd think - they can always be relied on to put a ball in the back of the net using their hands) and the unconfined hilarity of the Olympic Walk where everyone looks like Donald Duck were revealed.

Now it's all over, I feel like putting up hula-hoops in the form of olympic rings, in the hope they'll be tempted back, like some Greater Manchester version of a cargo cult, but reason tells me that the only thing to do is to sit it out until the para-Olympics.

Apart from anything else, it was brilliant to see everyone looking so cheerful all the time. Even - get this - Andy Murray.  Come to think about it, we were all ,ore than a bit cheerful about that one.  In his 28 Days Later thriller, Murray bit back. Wow.

There's been an awful lot said about the Olympics "inspiring a generation".  All I was really inspired to do was to Velcro myself to the sofa for a fortnight, but I get the point. It was like a shop window for all sorts of sports that look soooo much fun.   Anyone for Beach Volleyball?

Olympic nuttiness

Wasn’t the opening of the Olympics great?  After the fabulous spectacle Beijing provided (those giant footsteps approaching the stadium were breathtaking) it was difficult to imagine how it could be topped.  Well, it wasn’t topped.  Instead, the director, Danny Boyle, took up off in a completely different direction, telling the story of how Britain came to be Britain in a wonderfully human and quirky way.  It was barmy to have real sheep and shire horses round the Glastonbury Tor, with Isambard Kingdom Brunel striding on to the Tor to declaim (as if they were his own thoughts) a speech from The Tempest. Barmy and totally right.  It was pretty economical as well, you know?  Shakespeare, Isambard Kingdom Brunel and Britain’s greatest Shakespearian actor, known to millions as Gilderoy Lockhart, all in one neat package.

The fact that Gilderoy Lockhart was there looked forward neatly to Joanna Rowling herself, reading about Neverland from Peter Pan and to have fifty Mary Poppins and a gigantic Voldemort seamlessly woven in was star stuff.

I’ve never seen an Olympic opening with so much humour – with any humour, in fact – and to have so many human voices and little stories integrated in to the big story gave us all a way in to the story Danny Boyle was telling.  Goodness knows what they thought in Beijing of Michael Fish, famously telling us that “A woman rang the BBC and said she’d heard there was a hurricane on the way...” but we all cracked up and as for Rowan Atkinson going off onto a dream of winning chariots of fire...

The star of the show had to be the Queen, though.  The shock when she turned round at her desk and was revealed to be the absolute honest to goodness, hundred percent gold Queen and not (as we expected) Helen Mirren, was just one of those unforgettable moments.  And, as the sequence progressed, wasn’t it great how it was obviously so much easier for the Queen to keep a straight face than Mr Bond himself?  Winston Churchill clearly approved and you can’t say fairer than that.

Frankie's Letter is on Amazon!

Here's the cover of the new book!  It was up on Amazon on Friday and I think it  looks really good.  When I first thought about the title,  a friend wondered if "Frankie's Letter" made it sound a bit too much like a saga.  Hmm.  It isn't a saga, of course, it's a First World War spy thriller, and I'd hate to give anyone the impression we're in Catherine Cookson land.    The thing is, that the whole story is about Frankie's letter - what it is, where it is and, most importantly, who is Frankie.  So the title stayed, because I liked it and it's directly related to the story.  There's a line in the first chapter said by a bloke who's just about to pop his clogs.  "Frankie's letter... Read Frankie's letter."  I hope you do!

Frankie's Letter

I got the proofs through for the new book, Frankie’s Letter, in the week.  These are the printed proofs, which means I’ve got a really good idea of what the finished book will look like, which is, I have to admit, really exciting!

Frankie’s Letter is a bit of a new venture.  It’s not a Jack story – don’t worry, he’ll be back! – but a First World Wat spy thriller, with a new hero, the rather fanciable Dr Anthony Brooke.  Anthony studied in Berlin before the war and, in consequence, is an expert German speaker, a fact that makes him very useful indeed to the infant Secret Service.

I originally self-published Frankie’s Letter on Kindle, so I was absolutely delighted when Severn House bought it.  I mean, I love my Kindle and read and buy lots of books on it, but there’s something about a real book with proper pages that can’t be replicated.

Although Frankie’s Letter is set only a few years before Jack’s finest hours, it’s interesting how those few years bring a whole different tone to the writing.  It definitely has a pre-modern feel, in a way that the 1920’s books just don’t.  It’s a very sort of Edwardian feel that has somehow come out on the page without me being very conscious of exactly where the differences are.  Anyway, roll on September and you’ll be able to judge for yourself.  I haven’t seen the cover yet.  That’s the next good bit!