The awful upselling - a good reason to shop online!

I don't go shopping in real life very much these days, apart from the food shop.  Generally speaking, if I need something specific I'll look it up online first.  I don't really do crowds of people, so 21st century shopping suits me.

The other day, however, I went into Newcastle as I had to buy some birthday presents.  Newcastle is, after all, a fine city, and I love to have a look round the Grainger Market.  There used to be a wonderful book shop in there, which closed recently; I believe business had suffered since people like me started buying cheap Kindle books.  It's a shame, but, alas, the world changes on a regular basis.  

On this day, though, I went into only four shops, and was reminded why I now prefer to shop from home.

Isn't it just the worst???

In a smarty, arty looking shop selling cards, wrapping paper and small gifty things, I spent no less than £23.  While the woman behind the counter was bagging up my purchases, she tried to engage me in chat to the extent that I almost said, "look, I just want to buy the birthday cards, I don't want a freakin' relationship."  During this (mostly one-sided) conversation she tried to get me to sign up for a loyalty card.  When I said I didn't want one, she insisted on 'just popping' the details into my bag anyway.  During the five minutes she took to roll up my wrapping paper, she also pointed out many other attractive items within the shop.  Dead chattily, like.  Obviously this was company policy; some other person suggested I 'have a nice day' on the way out, too.  Doesn't really sit right in Tyne and Wear, somehow.

That's one shop I won't be going back to.  Next I went to WH Smiths, where I was accosted by someone trying to sell me something on the way in, offered a bargain on items similar to those I was purchasing whilst at the till, and accosted by someone else trying to sign me up for WH Smith insurance/a monthly subscription to Beekeeping Monthly on the way out.

In Marks and Spencer I was offered some other data mining tool (loyalty card, store card, whatever), whilst in Superdrug I was offered a store card and some facial wipes currently on offer, or it might have been a gift pack of aftershave or buy-one-get-one-free on haemorrhoid cream, I can't remember.

I know that the high street shops are all in trouble since the rise in internet shopping, but surely this isn't the way forward?  For every one person who says, "d'you know, Kerry/Gav/Shirl, I reckon I will take that cream.  I haven't got piles, but it's best to be prepared!", I bet there are ten more who, like me, have the f*** irritated out of them by this strategy.   There is a chemist in my local town centre where I only go if in a tearing hurry, as you can't nip in to buy a 32p packet of paracetomol without being offered at least four more products.  The other day I handed my purchase over and just said "please don't try to sell me anything else", but so programmed was the sales lad that he said "no problem," (as is customary with all shop/restaurant assistants under the age of thirty), then put my bottle of Mr Muscle shower spray into a bag and launched into his speech before he even realised what he was doing.  

Because food shopping is one thing I don't like to do online (and because I do need to get out of the house sometimes), I put up with the till assistants in Morrissons asking me if I have a Match & More card, are collecting vouchers for the set of knives (don't tempt me), would like any stamps (postage or saving), phone credit, fries with that, a meal deal, or a voucher which will mean that I'll get 6p off per every £657 I spend, and bombarded with junk mail from five hundred different companies for the rest of my life.  But aside from that, I won't shop anywhere that practices this ghastly upselling.  Fine, advertise your wares all you like, splatter them over every shop window, but don't see every purchase I make as an opportunity to get more money out of me.  Just be polite and helpful and I'll come back.  

It would be like someone telling me that they liked one of my books, and me saying, "that's great, would you like to buy another?"  It would guarantee that person never did ~ and I think this is what upselling must do to thousands of people.

I mentioned the local chemist shop that I avoid - about a year ago, I listened to a girl's sales spiel and then asked her how she felt about having to do it.  She said, oh, we all hate it, and lots of customers feel about it like you do.  I actually wrote to the customer services department to 'give them feedback' about this strategy; the reply said that they didn't see it as hard selling but as offering the customers information about what was currently on offer.  

Yes, that might be the idea, but it doesn't work.  If you've got something on offer, stick posters where people can see them, have the item on display at the counter, and at least educate your staff on basic sales/interpersonal skills.  The woman who tried to upsell me in that card shop should have spotted my irritation and lack of interest.  That as a 'mark', I wasn't going to happen.

I wrote that letter to the chemist's customer services after seeing a seventeen year old lad offering a Nicki Minaj body spray and perfume gift set to an OAP.  Poor chap probably felt pressured into buying it, then remembered he hadn't got any grandchildren.  But what the hell, eh?  It's another sale!

 

Cheap as chips!

Just a quickie to let you know that, for anyone who hasn't got it but would like to give it a go, Kings and Queens is now on a Kindle Countdown offer for only 99p/99c, lasting from Tuesday 28th April to Monday 4th May.

It's a contemporary drama about the life and loves of property developer Harry Lanchester, told through the eyes of the women in his life, and is a 20th/21st century retelling of the story of Henry VIII. 

It's got stacks of really excellent reviews (and no, I haven't got that many friends!).  A while back I wrote a blog post with a few excerpts from some of them; it's HERE

You don't need to know anything about history to enjoy it; it can be read just as a contemporary drama.  For my test readers, I chose one who knew absolutely nothing about the period, not even the names of all Henry's wives, to make sure it stood up convincingly. 

The sequel, Last Child, is also now available. 

Thank you for your interest!

Excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable....

Imagine this scenario.  Hunky guy is invited back to gorgeous woman's flat after hot date.

Gorgeous Woman: Help yourself to a drink, and do excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable...

Hunky Guy: But of course!  Opens brandy bottle, smiling, thoughts of black silk and lace running through his mind.

Two minutes later, enter stage left: 
Gorgeous Woman: That's better!  Flops onto sofa.  You can pour me one of those, t0o.

Hunky Guy's mouth drops open.  Gorgeous woman wears not the black lingerie of his fantasies, but a faded AC/DC 1998 tour t-shirt with toothpaste stains down the front, and a pair of man's pyjama trousers with a hole in the knee.

~~~ 

I'm talking about Leezurewear. 

Yes, yes, I know it's spelt leisurewear.  It's just how my sister and I (and, thus, many of our friends) spell it, because we pronounce it in the American way, ie 'lee-surewear' rather than 'leh-surewear'.  Works best if you say it with an American accent, too (at least until you're comfortable with it....).  It's probably not even a real word; should it be two words?  I'll leave my proofreading sister to decide, and no doubt tell me in the comments!

I have not been guilty of the ruining a hot date scenario, but must say that one of the joys of working from home, or just not going out to work, period, is being able to wear leezurewear more often.  In fact, most of the time. 

Socially acceptable leezurewear

I have a selection of leezure trousers.  At the moment I am wearing my rather (un)fetching miscellaneous animal print ones that are too big in the arse and too long.  Until I actually got properly dressed today (at around lunch time) I was wearing them with a pink and white striped vest that I'd worn in bed the night before.  I also own some striking half-mast black velvet trews (£3.99 from Store 21 in Jarrow), and another pair of two-summers-ago blue and white flowery ones, with holes in.  These items will not necessarily be worn with anything matches them.  Because they are leezurewear, and this you wear only for comfort, not for style.  Comfort is all.

Leezurewear: see that casual fit, the ease with which the wearer stands, hand placed comfortably in pocket?

When I worked in an office, the first thing I did when I got home was to get into my old faithfuls, waiting for me upstairs.  The office in which I worked was not one of those that required me to wear anything too smart, but I still had to look respectable.  I went to work dressed in flattering trousers and some sort of smart top, a conscious choice based on aesthetics, unlike the clothes I put on when I got home, which would be ill-fitting, ill matched, and with coffee stains down the front within an hour or so of putting them on (whether I'd drunk coffee or not, it seemed).  

There are different grades of leezurewear.  My sister and I have a name for the one in between at-home-only disgusting garments, and work clothes:  this is socially acceptable leezurewear.  It might be smart leggings and a huge but presentable t-shirt.  Or a natty hat, as worn by actor Josh Holloway, below.  In SAL, you can go shopping, receive visitors, even go to the pub if there is not likely to be anyone in there who you want to impress.   

Actor Josh Holloway models socially acceptable leezurewear

True leezurewear, though, is so unfetching that you can only wear it at home and in the company of friends.  The garments that have become as much part of you as your skin, that you can only wear in front of very close friends, and definitely not in front of someone you might want to have sex with in the future, unless they already love you very much (and even then it might be best not to).  

I'm talking the truly appalling trousers with the holes in the crotch, the once bright yellow band t-shirt that you found you know not where, sporting curious stains that will never quite come out.  
 
My best ever leezure item was a velour jumper bought from a charity shop in Cromer for £1.99.  On a cost-per-wear basis, I probably got 3287 wears per penny out of my black velour jumper.  I had it for around 8 years.  By the time Julia told me I really ought to throw it away (I needed telling), it was so worn out you could actually see through the front of it.

It was a sad day indeed.  Julia used to have a garment we called her David Lee Roth trousers (I can't remember why); they lived with her for about 20 years.  I think at one time they had patches on the back and crotch, and the knees were more hole than trouser.  I don't think she ever got over losing them; not even the size 18-20 jogging bottoms she bought from Cromer Indoor Market (she is a size 10-12) could replace them.

Years ago, on MySpace, I had a photo album on my profile entitled 'My friends in their leezurewear'.  My online and real life chums used to send me pictures of themselves in their favourite items, fully annotated to point out particularly alluring features like baggy knees and embarrassing holes.  It was a good album!  I wish I still had all the pictures; I could have shown you the black velour jumper in all its grisly glory.  

What are your most beloved (and possibly disgusting) items?  The best leezurewear is often appropriated rather than bought.  Back in the early 1990s Julia had a fab t-shirt that an ex-boyfriend of her flatmate had left behind.  It was one of those that was good quality originally, probably why it was such a pleasure to wear.  I then nicked it off her and wore it for many years; I loved it.  It disappeared along with another boyfriend.  I wonder if it's been passed on to anyone else?  There was nothing particularly noticeable about it, it was just great leezurewear.

Me wearing the t-shirt owned by many, in 1996, sporting it in the socially acceptable way, ie, tucked in to still comfortable denim shorts.  It was subsequently stolen by the soon to become ex who took this picture.  Perhaps he only wanted me for the t-shirt in the first place.

.... and now we come to the downside of wearing comfortable clothes because you are at home all the time.  After a while, it becomes really hard to wear anything else.  I do put reasonable clothes on, and make-up and earrings, just to nip to the shops, because if I didn't I would end up looking like a bag lady all the time instead of just 80% of it.  But even then, my respectable clothes are things with stretchy waistbands, no heels, nothing that might be any effort to wear.  This is partly because being at home all the time, sitting down at a laptop, means that wearing shorts like the ones in the picture above is now but a faded, distant memory.  Yes, another downside: when you don't have to make yourself look good for work every day you don't notice when your clothes are getting, shall we say, a little more snug, until you have to actually go somewhere looking proper smart.  That's when you look in the mirror and gasp "where the hell did all that come from???" 

Never mind, though.  You only have to endure looking smart for a few hours, with that held in stomach, being careful not to slosh red wine down your top, etc, and then you can come home, tear all those once-every-six-months clothes off and .... get back into your leezurewear...

...just like actor Josh Holloway... now there's a man who looks like he knows how to stay comfortable....!!

 

 

 

Be visible, be discovered....

Let's get visible!  Yes, but how?

The thing I find the most frustrating about this whole self-publishing business is how so many truly excellent books don't get read simply because people don't know they're there.  No, I don't just mean mine!!!, but those I read and know so many others would love, too, if only they were aware of their existence.

Obviously, the biggest key to getting seen is Amazon visibility, which is hard to achieve unless you regularly hit top spots in genre charts, have an agent or publisher behind you, or however else the big names get their wares in the shop window. 

When I posted My Top 20 books of 2014 a couple of people asked me how I'd discovered the books in the first place, because the only 'indie' ones they'd tried had been rubbish (actually, not all the books in that list are 'indie', though most of them are) and they didn't know where to look for those that really are good.  So, I had this idea.  To give readers an idea of how to find self-published books worth reading, and to give writers examples of how to make their books something other than invisible, I thought it would be fun to take the ten books on my book review blog's quarterly round-up, ie, my pick of January, February and March this year, and tell you how I discovered each one.  At the end, we can draw conclusions!

Here goes:

My top ten picks of the books I read in the first quarter of this year, in no particular order.  To see my full review of each book, click the title.

1.  Once Upon A Time In The City Of Criminals by Mark Barry. 
I got to know Mark when he asked me if he could interview me on his blog.  I bought one of his books just out of curiosity, and loved it so much I've now read four of his; this was the third.  Mark is self-published.

2.  Literastein by Phil Conquest
I met Phil on MySpace in 2007, because we both wrote stuff, and we've kept in touch ever since; I used to read his blog posts, thought he was a terrific writer and was one of those who persuaded him to get his work off his laptop and out into the world.  You know, I nagged him a lot.  It was worth it.  Phil is self-published.

3.  The Turning of the World by John Privilege
This is a funny one - John made a sarcastic remark to me on Twitter about my over-tweeting of a free promotion, and I must have been in a good mood because instead of making a smart remark back I agreed that yes, I probably had overdone it a bit but it was only for a couple of days while the book was free.  We chatted a bit.  I said, okay, then, I get that you're totally anti promotion, but let's have a look at your book.  It just happened to be my current favourite genre (post apocalyptic drama), so I bought it.  Started to read it and it blew me away.  John is self-published.

4.  Mantle of Malice by April Taylor
We got chatting on Twitter because of our mutual interest in the Tudors.  I read the first of her trilogy and liked it so much I bought and read the others too; this is the third.  April is published by Carina UK, a popular ebook imprint of a traditional publisher.

5. The Great Law of Peace by Zoe Saadia
Saw Zoe's blog and books on Twitter, impressed by her extensive knowledge of a fascinating subject.  I'm currently reading my 4th of her Native American history novels.  Zoe is self-published.

6. The Goddard Affair by Scott Marlowe.  
Scott submitted this book to Rosie Amber's book blog review team, for which I write reviews on a regular basis.  Scott is self-published.

7. Living By Ear by Mary J Rowen
I read a guest post by Mary on another book blog, A Woman's Wisdom.  It was a very good interview and Mary seemed like my sort of person, so I glanced down at the blurb for her book.  The subject matter appealed, I bought it, loved it.   It's worth mentioning that Mary's post was nothing to do with her book, but about something entirely different that made me want to click on the link in the first place.  Mary is published by indie publisher Booktrope.

8. Mad World by Kate L Mary
I saw the first one in the Broken World trilogy (this is the third) on an Amazon 'customers also bought' list, when looking at another book of a similar genre.  The title and cover caught my eye, so I bought it.  Liked it enough to keep reading, and the trilogy got better with each book; I'm looking forward to the fourth, which is out this month!  Kate is self-published.

9. Six Months To Get A Life by Ben Adams
Another book I chose from those submitted to Rosie's book review team.  Ben is indie published by Clink Street publishing.

10. A Divided Inheritance by Deborah Swift.
I came across Deborah Swift when wandering around Twitter, had a quick look at her blog because she writes about stuff that's totally up my street, and chose another of her books, The Gilded Lily, because the blurb made me think, yes, that's the one for me.  I'm now a fan!   Deborah is traditionally published, by Pan.

Conclusions:

What does this all say to you?  To me it says that readers who want to look further than their old favourites can discover new ones by reading book blogs, and not just letting all those book promotion tweets float past them, unclicked, on Twitter!  I know all this #mustread! 5*!  Read it NOW or die!  The best book ever! stuff can get a bit tedious, but if a book has got 40 genuine 5* reviews it might actually be pretty good.  Or the subject matter might appeal; that's what I look at.  

In Cromer in Norfolk where I used to live, the library had a section for little known books with labels like "if you like Maeve Binchy, you'll like..." etc.  Book bloggers often serve a similar function, I think. 

My conclusions for writers are thus: 

• write really good books, and make them as good as you can, even if it means doing yet another re-draft when you think you can no longer stand the sight of it.  Make people want to read them to the end, review them, tell their friends and buy another!  This is the most important one, of course, without which all the rest mean little.
• Network with other writers and bloggers (in a sincere way, not just in the hope that they will help promote you).
• Submit your books to book blogs, take an interest in and support the blog.
• Talk to people on social networking sites, don't just post book promo tweets and RT fifty others.
• Put your books in the right categories on Amazon.  Choose snappy titles and eye-catching covers.  Write blurbs that will make people want to read the book, not long summaries of the plot.  Some ideas about that HERE

In other words, all the stuff you already know, really!  The key thing is not to just know it, but to actually do it, though.
  
It all takes time, and it's a long game.  One pretty successful self-published writer said recently that your readership comes in ones and twos, not very often  even in fives and tens.  I think this is so right, especially these days; back before self-pub there were a limited amount of books and authors to choose from, but now there are thousands and thousands and thousands more, whose work was not available before.  People can only read so many books, but if you do the best you can to make yours be seen you at least have some chance of getting them chosen out of the millions available!

If everyone reading this went to one book blog and bought one of the books they saw recommended....   

 

Easter Joke

Best Easter Joke

(I've put it on a blog post so I can share it on Twitter #hashtag days too!!)

....and thank you to the queen of witty one-liners, Carol Hedges, from whom I nicked it in the first place!!!
@caroljhedges

A possible effect of Kindle Unlimited that no-one's mentioned yet.

......and not a very good one from a writer's point of view, either.

So, Kindle Unlimited, right?  Readers know that they can read/listen to audio books for free for just £7.99 a month, and writers know that instead of (some) sales on their monthly download report, they're getting KU Units, which may or may not financially equal a sale, I haven't a clue, I've never got round to looking.  What happens is that you get one unit if the reader reads past 10%, I think, and more if they carry on reading.  I can't be bothered to work out the sales vs KU units, I really can't; I just look at the units and think "oh good, they liked 'em enough to carry on reading", and that's all. 

In our household we are signed up for Kindle Unlimited.  My husband decided it was a good idea as he listens to lots of audio books, and I buy too many Kindle books.  It's only recently that something's occurred to me, as a reader and purchaser, that must affect us chaps sitting on the other side, too, ie, the writers.

If I've talked to a writer a little (usually on Twitter) and I fancy their book, I generally buy it, not because I think they need my £1.50, but because every sale is good for their Amazon visibility and maybe more so than a KU download (I don't know if it is or not, please don't tell me!).  Those I buy on KU are usually the other ones I fancy (say, that I've read about on a book blog post, or seen on an Amazon browse).

Like most people, I have a Kindlefull of books, some of which I will look at within the next few months, some not for a year or more.

Kindle Unlimited is not actually unlimited at all, of course; you can only have 10 books out at a time.

As the months have gone on, this is what I have noticed.  When I see a book I fancy, I will go to download it on KU.  At this point, Amazon will tell me that I have to return one book before I can do so.  It shows me my list of ten books I currently have on the KU facility.  To download, I must return one.  Now, this is the key thing that affects all people who publish on Amazon, whose books are on KU.... 

...like many people (I imagine), I look at so many books that sometimes, dare I say it, I don't always remember exactly what it was about one in particular that appealed to me.  But, oh, I've just seen another one I really, really want to read.  So in order to download Book A I might give Book B back unread.  Intending to get it again some time, you know?  It might be that intelligent looking post apocalyptic thriller that I spotted when I was looking at Kate Mary or Dylan Morgan's books.  That edgy contemporary drama I read about on A Woman's Wisdom.  Back it will float into the huge, gaping and seemingly limitless vault that is Amazon, never to be seen again.  Never to be read, never to be followed up by its follow up.

If I had bought it, though, like in the olden days before KU, it would have remained on my Kindle.  I would have thought, hmm, nice cover, interesting title, I'll have a look, at some point that year.  I might have loved it. Reviewed it favourably. The author might have been someone I recommended to others, etc etc etc.

Example: I downloaded Dylan Morgan's The Dead Lands soon after it was published.  It wasn't an immediate 'go to' book; I thought I might not like it as the description included the dreaded words science fiction.  I had it for about eight months before opening it, at which point it blew me away.  I am now a big fan.  Had I downloaded it on KU, it might have been rejected in favour of another, and lost forever.

If this is what I, a fairly average Amazon customer, am doing, you can bet that a hell of a lot of others are doing so, too.

GRRR!!

Amazon Category Frustration!!!!

I have just discovered that putting my latest book (a modern re-telling of Tudor history) into the Amazon category 'Alternative History' (which is undeniably IS), also means that it must go into 'Science fiction and fantasy', which it most definitely ISN'T.  I realise any fiction is fantasy, really, though my contemporary family/romantic drama is not what is generally meant by the term in the bookselling world, ie, dragons and magic rings, imaginary lands and men with hunky chests turning into vampires. 

Here: (though indeed it will probably be out of the genre chart by the time you read this!) 
LAST CHILD

I will just add that when I chose the category Fiction > Alternative History, I didn't go via Science Fiction by mistake!!

And while I am here, why is there STILL no 'rock fiction' category, or any categories suitable for fiction about the music industry/musicians?  

Similarly: to me, the term 'lad lit' means the sort of books by Nick Hornby and David Nicholls that are made into films starring whoever the current version of Hugh Grant is, but Amazon seems to think it means SAS adventures, which is logical, I suppose.  I'll stick with calling those 'just an ordinary guy who eventually gets the girl' dramas 'bloke lit', I think, like I used to.

Amazon, get yerselves sorted....

Things that make one feel old....

Yesterday I was in Home Bargains, and was pleased to note that whoever puts on the music to entertain shoppers whilst they peruse the extensive range of cut-price household cleaning materials and toiletries (nowt like a bit of Kool and the Gang with your Mr Muscle) was no doubt in my age group and probably indulging themselves with some memories.

(Incidentally, the best supermarket for music is Morrissons in Cromer, Norfolk - unusually light rock orientated, rather than crap pop stuff.  Lots of Steely Dan.  Yes, that was me grooving down Tinned Vegetables giving it "I've seen your picture ~Your name in lights above it", etc ) 

Anyway, as I was saying, I was at the checkout queue, still enjoying these sounds of the 70s, when someone asked the old dear behind the till the name of the particular tune that was playing.  She didn't know.  I looked up and said "Liquidator by The Harry J Allstars.  I remember it from 1971." (yes, yes, I know, it actually came out in 1969).  The "old dear" smiled at me (pityingly?) and said these words:  "Oh, I wouldn't have known that, it was... before my time."

Ouch!!!!

Much though I was terrified of skinheads in the early 70s, I did kinda like some of their music.  So here's Liquidator.  

New beginnings, life begining at 40, first day of spring, etc!

I wrote this last week...

I was taking my morning constitutional this morning in the park, enjoying the sunshine and looking at the crocuses; even though I like autumn and winter better than the warmer/lighter months, there's something so smile-inducing about the first signs of spring life.  New beginnings are forever a thing of magic and possibility, are they not?  

Talking of new beginnings, change, etc, I was also thinking about an email I'd had from my friend Peregrine (not his real name) this morning.  We'd spoken recently about a mutual friend, who I will call Lucinda.  Neither of us had heard much from her for some while.  However, Peregrine told me he'd 'messaged' with her the night before.  I asked how she was; Peregrine said that she seemed down in the dumps, a bit 'blahhh' and 'like everything was over, her life was just going to carry on the same as it is now, forever' about which she was fairly pissed off.

Lucinda is 40.  I am a 'wee' bit older than that.  This week Lucinda will be 41, which Peregrine says was depressing her further, particularly as she works in a very image conscious/youth worshipping orientated business (she's gorgeous, by the way!).  I was a bit "oo-er" when I reached my 40s, too, so I've written this to everyone who feels similarly about it:

Dear Lucinda and other People-Who-Think-Life-Ends-At-40:

It so doesn't!  A whole bunch of stuff happens after the jowls start sagging and the grey hairs and crows feet appear, and you appreciate it all more when you're older, too.  Since my 40th birthday, I have:

• Moved counties twice.  I would never have predicted either move as I drank into the early hours at my 40th birthday party.  Amazing what life can throw up at you, eh? 
• Published ten books.  I wouldn't have predicted that, either, as Kindles weren't around!  I was writing at the time but the only chance of my ever being read by anyone aside from family and close friends was to find an agent and be traditionally published (likelihood: miniscule). 
• Discovered life 'online' - no, it's not real life, but it kind of is, too.  It's weird.
• Had about five different jobs.  
• Made stacks and stacks of new friends (both in 'real' life and this strange online one) through jobs, house moves, my writing life, a social networking site or two and the 'real' social life I used to have (!!), some of whom I know will be friends for a long time. 
• Discovered and developed new interests.
•  Seen my niece, Freya, born (well, not actually being born - you know what I mean)

Freya with my dad, about 2012

• Ended a less than satisfactory marriage and got married again, and had another long (five year) relationship and three short ones.
• Visited places in the UK I'd never been to before, and been in an aeroplane for the first time (look, I know it's pathetic, I just haven't travelled much!)
• Heard new music, read new books, seen new films...it's endless. 

In a nutshell, more good things have happened since I turned forty than in all the years before it.  Hands up who thinks I ought to send this to Lucinda (bearing in mind that she and I only met in 2008, too!)......

Julie, Julia or Juliet?

Something occurred to me when choosing names for the characters in my latest novel ~ how a name affects your impression of someone before you've even met them.  Sometimes a character arrives in my head with his or her name attached, other times I try up to six different ones before settling on one that feels like the person I'm writing about.  In one of my earlier books, Nobody's Fault, one of the main characters is called Tara.  She was one of the former type; I wanted her to be called Emily but found that I kept typing 'Tara' by mistake; obviously my subconscious had already decided that was her name.  It was right; she wasn't 'sweet' enough for Emily.  My apologies to all the sharp and edgy Emilys out there - it's just what the name says to me!

What I'm getting round to, though, is something that's not just of interest to writers.  It's how names mean different things to us all, and how previous experiences affect how we feel about anyone else with that name.  Sorry, people called Andrew, but you will always be the boy in my primary school class who used to have embarrassing 'accidents'....!  I got to thinking about all this again during the reading of a book the other week.  The heroine was in her late 20s, small, pretty, with long wavy blonde hair.  She was called Marian; sadly, she didn't work for me because in my head she was in her early 40s, plain and a bit mumsy, probably because I remember, as a child, meeting my cousin Marian who was ... plain and a bit mumsy.  Marianne, however, would have conjured up the picture the author intended....

.... because sometimes a name so similar to another can say something entirely different, can't it?  Like this:  in my mind, Julie is a pretty blonde who works in a factory in a 1960s film.  Substitute the 'e' for an 'a', though, and Julia is a dark, rather glamorous and serious literary critic or actress (or a dark, rather glamorous proofreader, in my sister's case).  Add a 't' and she becomes Juliet, a demure girly-girl in long flowery dresses.

How do you feel about your own name?  I was christened Theresa, which I dislike.  I decided I wanted to be Terry when I was twelve, and all my friends wanted the boys' version of our names because, we thought, it sounded cool.  I like Terry.  I grind my teeth with annoyance if anyone calls me 'Kerry' by mistake.  This mostly happens when I ring up for taxis; Mr Dial A Cab pulls up outside the supermarket and shouts 'Taxi for Kerry!' and I go 'grrrr'.  No offence to any Kerrys reading this, it just isn't right for me.  My second husband was called Alan, which he loathed, so much that he used his schoolboy nickname of 'Stodge' throughout his adult life.  No, he wasn't fat; it's a long story.  He said he always wanted to be called Steve, which, he thought, was the ideal guy name.  I agree with him; I like it, too.  I was always pleased when someone I fancied turned out to be called Steve! 

Here's another one like the 'Julie' thing - a Michael known as Mike is a nice married man who works in an office and has 2.4 children, barbecues on weekends, does DIY on bank holidays and makes regular visits to his parents.  Mick, however, is a rock guitarist with a leather jacket and a big black motorbike.  >>>Vroom>>.....  Should Mick remain Michael, though, he's a doctor with a barrister wife who has relaxed but rather self-consciously sophisticated dinner parties.   As Micky, he's a cheeky chap who does a few dodgy deals.   If he's Mikey, he's under ten.  

Love interests in novels are Richard, Patrick, Daniel, Johnny, Marcus, Max, Ben, Jack, Sean, Jared ~ or maybe that's just me, too!  But recently I read a novel in which I guessed who the heroine was going to end up with as soon as I read his name.  I thought, you wouldn't waste that totally Mills and Boon name on a guy who doesn't get the girl!  I quite like to give my sexier male characters very ordinary names - the one in my latest book is called Jim!  A while back, I wrote a tongue-in-cheek article about how to write a romcom which is HERE; in it I've suggested names for various characters.  In the comments one writer** says that she sometimes tries to put readers off the scent by giving a dull character a glamorous name, and vice versa, but received complaints when she called a love interest Doug.  It's my dad's name, I can't comment!

One thing I love about starting a new book is having all those new characters to name.  It gets harder and harder, though; I've used a lot of my favourites.  I've got a Jared in the novel I've just started; I last used it when I tried (unsuccessfully) to write a Mills and Boon, in 1995; yeah, yeah, it's a bit of a cliche romantic guy name but I do like it.  I might dig the M&B out some time and have a look at it to see if it's as dire as I remember, just for a laugh.  Generally, though, I'm with Emily Barr (who is NOT a sweet, girly Emily!) on wanting to call every nice male character Patrick.  I last used it in Nobody's Fault in 2011 - perhaps I can use it again now?! 



**yes, I was totally made up to have Jill Mansell comment on my lowly blog, in case you're wondering!