Saturday, 14 October 2017

Hit Me With Your Techie Stick ... Hit Me!


It would be fair to say that we, the Two Grumpy Old Sods have embraced modern technology, albeit at arms length. We have computers. We have a twitter account (GOS1) and an iPhone (GOS2). It would also be fair to say that when things go pear-shaped, our technical ability to sort them is so low you couldn't limbo under it.

As those of you who have nothing better to do than follow this blog know, I have now got a new state of the art small purple laptop, as my beloved e-Mac died on me five months ago, taking 13K words of the sixth Victorian Detectives book with it. The new laptop is supposed to be just for writing, and is not connected to the internet, but recently, it has started behaving oddly.

Out of the blue, it 'locked' my manuscript, offering me an alternative version to merge. Then various apps mysteriously appeared. I hadn't downloaded them (no internet connection). GOS2 accused me of various underhand dealings. I denied them. We worked out finally that my laptop must be connecting to the office desktop. Through the floorboards. A kind of internet computer dating ... only with real computers.

Weird stuff continued to dog the new laptop. I kept getting requests to update stuff. Or install stuff. Finally, the whole thing threw a mega cyber-sulk, closed down and refused to let me write altogether. After a brief altercation on the lines of 'Well you must have done something to it.'/ 'No of course I didn't,' we took it back to CurrysPCWorld, where a very nice techie person showed me exactly what I needed to do to stop it playing with the downstairs desktop:

Press the key with the little plane on it. Who knew? Not us; reading manuals is for wimps.

The very nice techie-man came from Poland. I asked him. Which means that in 12 months time, which is when I can down-grade to a non-internet package, I guess he won't be there any more. Another thing to lay at the door of this ghastly Brexit.





Tuesday, 10 October 2017

'Babies that Lunch' (Adventures of L-Plate Gran)


It is often said that 'there is no such thing as a free lunch', though in the case of Little G and Small, this is not the case. Every week, two free lunches are set before them. One lunch is eaten, one is frequently not.

We have been informed by You must be mad that Small eats a wide (though currently vegetable-free) variety of foods at home; this is good to hear. Unfortunately, in the physical transference between his home and ours, something seems to have gone awry. Small regards all food placed on his tray as highly suspicious. Bits of egg sandwich ('He loves egg sandwiches') are handled cautiously, then deposited on the kitchen floor, which, by the end of lunchtime, resembles a war zone.

If L-Plate Grandad (in charge of Small's diet) actually manages to persuade him to try something, it is often spat out, or solemnly handed back. I gather that the current trendy idea is to place a wide variety of foods on the tray and let the baby 'choose' for him/herself, but we are pre-trend and were brought up in the era of eating what was put before you, so we are disinclined to go down this route.

The nursery suggests giving him his food, waiting 20 minutes, then removing him and trying again later, but we are not trained professionals and frankly, my dear, we don't have the patience. Small's eating habits are regarded with some satisfaction by Little G. 'I'm eating everything on my plate,' she observes smugly as the bits of food pile up around his highchair.

There are certain things that Small will always eat: yoghurt, fruit, and Weetabix ~ a current favourite, but we have been asked not to use this as a fallback solution, as the last time Small lunched and dined on Weetabix there were, not to put too fine a point on it, problems further down the line.

One day, when Small is older, and a rugby prop forward, I shall regale him with stories about the time he refused to eat his lunches. Oh, the fun we will have! Meanwhile, we struggle on, feeling inadequate and crossing our fingers that one day, Small will actually consume everything we give him and the cat won't stuff herself on his rejects.

At least one of them gets to enjoy a free lunch.






Saturday, 7 October 2017

Growing Old, Fairly Disgracefully!



Several months have drifted by since the other Grumpy Old Sod stopped full time employment, and now that we are home together every day, we are slipping into a retirement routine which is developing its own rhythms and pinch points. One of them is the Denial of Responsibility conversation, which runs on similar lines every time it is had, and could easily have been scripted by Samuel Beckett:

GOS1: Did you remember to bring the newspaper voucher/shopping list/bag?
GOS2: No, I thought you were bringing it.
GOS1: I thought you were.
GOS1: I brought it last time.
GOS2: So you haven't got it?
GOS1: You didn't remind me.
GOS2: I can't remind you of everything.
GOS1: You could have brought it.
GOS2: I was relying on you.
GOS1: Well I haven't got it. I thought you were bringing it.
GOS2: I thought you were   .....   (and so on.)


Then there is the I put it down there a minute ago and now it's gone observation. This can apply to a biscuit, reading glasses, a mobile, a pile of clean socks, or the sports section of the newspaper. Nobody knows, or will admit to knowing, where the item has vanished to, so in the absence of any firm and tangible evidence to the contrary, the cat usually gets blamed.

It is hard work not working. It is even harder work trying to justify it. Much time is spent looking busy, whether it be 'paperwork' (GOS2) or 'writing my novel' (GOS1). It is vital to appear to be preoccupied by something, or busy doing anything, which justifies not actually being engaged in official paid employment. Guilt? Don't tell us about it ~ we are working flat out on it here.

There are, however, plenty of up-sides: I couldn't look after Little G and Small on my own ~ I don't have eyes in the back of my head, and I'm not nearly fast enough to be in two places at the same time. And it is good to have someone to sound off to about the mindlessly stupid and endlessly frustrating complexities of everyday life. Even if, between us, we are responsible for most of them.







Sunday, 1 October 2017

Tiara-boom-de-ay (Adventures of L-Plate Gran)


Now that she has reached the ripe old age of three and a half,  Little G has become a huge fan of dressing up. Her favourite costume at present is a bright pink and green sparkly fairy dress with pink stick-on wings (think: Flower Fairies on acid) that I found in a charity shop. The moment she gets into the house, she is off to the playroom to change into it.

'Look, grandma, I'm a fairy princess. I'm so pretty,' she announces, twirling in front of the mirror while presenting me with a moral dilemma of epic proportions, because You Must Be Mad has dinned it into me that one must not encourage her to focus on her physical appearance alone. 'Umm ... but you're also a kind fairy princess who helps people, aren't you?' I parrot obediently.

Little G treats this intervention with suitable indifference. 'Of course,' she says, twirling a bit more. 'Look, my dress goes out when I turn round.' There then follows the discussion about whether the silver tiara is better than the pink tiara. It is hard work being three and a half: so many important decisions have to be considered.

Spending a day with a small child dressed as a cast member from Midsummer Night's Dream presents its own very weird moments. I find myself uttering stuff that no sane person would be caught saying, such as: 'Sorry, you'll have to take your wings off, I can't get the seat belt over them.'

Then there is the accessorising. Little G has a box full of what you could call cheap plastic tat, but to her represents riches untold. Much time is spent picking over her loot, selecting what to wear. Look, you might be a shrinking violet, but trailing round Sainsburys in a shocking pink fairy dress, pink wings, tiara AND a selection of Frozen necklaces and bracelets is the way to go. When you are three and a half, it's all about fading into the foreground.






Friday, 29 September 2017

Kim Jong May & her Tory Party Respond to a 'Democratic' Request.

We're living in a dictatorship, folks. 

Dear XX
The Government has responded to the petition you signed – “Hold a referendum on the final Brexit deal”.
Government responded:
On 23 June 2016 the British people voted to leave the European Union. The UK Government is clear that it is now its duty to implement the will of the people and so there will be no second referendum.
The decision to hold the referendum was supported by a clear majority in both the House of Commons and the House of Lords. On 23 June 2016 the British people voted to leave the European Union. The referendum was the largest democratic mandate in UK political history. In the 2017 General Election more than 85% of people voted for parties committed to respecting that result.
There must be no attempts to remain inside the European Union, no attempts to rejoin it through the back door, and no second referendum. The country voted to leave the European Union, and it is the duty of the Government to make sure we do just that. Rather than second guess the British people’s decision to leave the European Union, the challenge now is to make a success of it - not just for those who voted leave but for every citizen of the United Kingdom, bringing together everyone in a balanced approach which respects the decision to leave the political structure of the EU but builds a strong relationship between Britain and the EU as neighbours, allies and partners.
Parliament passed an Act of Parliament with a clear majority giving the Prime Minister the power to trigger Article 50, which she did on 29 March in a letter to the President of the European Council, Donald Tusk. As a matter of firm policy, our notification will not be withdrawn - for the simple reason that people voted to leave, and the Government is determined to see through that instruction.
Both Houses of Parliament will have the opportunity to vote on the final agreement reached with the EU before it is concluded. This will be a meaningful vote which will give MPs the choice to either accept the final agreement or leave the EU with no agreement.
The people of the United Kingdom voted to leave the European Union, but we are not leaving Europe. We want a deep and special partnership with the EU. We aim to get the right deal abroad and the right deal for people here at home. We will deliver a country that is stronger, fairer, more united and more outward-looking than ever before.
Department for Exiting the European Union

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

'Two Roads Diverged in a Brexit Wood'

Tabloids 2016
Daily Mail 1930s















As most of you know, my parents, Hans and Suzanne Flatauer were German Jewish refugees - my mother came from Berlin, my father from Hanover. They met at an international Jewish conference. This was in the early 1930s, when many predicted, correctly, that Hitler's rise to power would mean persecution in some form. Although those who'd read Mein Kampf could deduce what form this was going to take;  a lot of people felt equally that the German population would see through Hitler and his thuggish rhetoric, and vote his party out.

As restrictions on the lives of Jewish citizens began, including their right to education (my mother had to leave Berlin University), and attacks on individual Jews went unpunished, they decided it was time to leave. My mother's family, Lotte and Richard Mannheim came with her and settled in Hendon, north London. My father's parents Raphael and Alma Flatauer, affluent, highly intellectual Orthodox Jews, but maybe not so worldly-wise, decided to stay. They subsequently perished in one of the camps - part of Hitler's deadly 'Final Solution'.

In their absence, my parents' German nationality was taken away, as happened to all who fled Nazi persecution. They never went back, and I was born in the UK, grew up here, suffering racial taunting from time to time ~ age 7, I remember asking my mother why a kid in my class had called me 'a dirty Jew' when I had a bath every night. I was though, to all intents and purposes, a British citizen. I had a British passport, then in time, an EU one. And so my 'story' might have run its course - until June last year, when this country voted to leave the EU.

Me as a student in the 1960s

My parents were stripped of their German citizenship. Soon, I will be stripped of my EU citizenship. As it currently stands, I and my descendants will no longer be able to start a business, work, live, or study freely abroad without restrictions. Once again, other people have removed at a stroke my 'identity' in the name of 'getting back control' and all the lies we have been spoon-fed by the right wing individuals who poured millions into the Brexit campaign.

It would be easy to shrug, and say that everything will be OK eventually. That was what so many German people said, and truly believed. But I don't think I can, because I don't believe it will be. When I read of people being stabbed because they are not 'British', it is time to speak out. When I see the AFD gaining 13% of the German population vote, it is time to speak out. When I see my EU friends having their bank accounts 'searched' for evidence that they are here in the UK illegally, or being discriminated against because the are from the EU, it is time to speak out. When the Home Office sends over 100 letters of deportation, wrongly, it is time to speak out. When our prime minster falsely claims, on my behalf, that 'WE' never felt entirely at home in the EU' (Florence speech) ~ it is time to speak out.

How do you 'speak out'? This is how I do it. I blog. I march. I write letters to the local press. 'But it won't happen here', I am told. 'Oh, we don't mean people like you', my EU friends are told. Same empty words. Same well-meaning but gullible sentiments.
London EU march (with yellow banner)
And I use Twitter, Facebook and every opportunity I can to alert people to the path this country is currently stepping down.

Am I being too alarmist? Well, last week, a caller rang the BBC Any Answers programme and suggested that once all the current EU workers had gone, it would be time to retrospectively deport all those who were born here of foreign parents. The conversation was closed down by the host. But subsequently, many people on Twitter thought the caller should have been allowed to finish what they wanted to say, and it was wrong of the BBC to cut them short. This is where we are today. Where we will be tomorrow, is anybody's guess. But I know where I don't want to be. And so, I hope, do you.




Saturday, 23 September 2017

Waiting for Grandma (Adventures of L-Plate Gran)


Little G is now three and a half, and ever since You Must Be Mad ended her maternity leave in April, has returned to my dodgy care, along with Small Brother. Having two children to look after goes way beyond my pay grade, so I am lucky that L-Plate Grandad (retired) is now on hand to shoulder some of the responsibility.

Little G is exceedingly good with her small brother, who has reached an unreliable and snatching stage in his development, but every now and then, her tolerance level dips below socially acceptable, and we go upstairs to the playroom for some 'us' time. The playroom used to be You Must Be Mad's room when she was growing up. It has dark blue walls and a massive Pulp Fiction poster.

It also contains the dolls house, a three-storey Victorian edifice that I built for You Must Be Mad when she was six, and which we spent many happy years papering, painting and making/buying furniture for. It is totally unsuitable for a three year old, but nobody has told Little G this, so she delights in taking all the furniture out, re-arranging it and telling herself stories about the dolls house family.

The playroom also contains some of You Must Be Mad's childhood books, which we enjoy dipping into. At the moment, we are reading My Naughty Little Sister, which I remember from my own childhood. It is very much of its time, with a mangle, and kind policemen on bicycles. A few weeks ago, we read the story where My Naughty Little Sister bites Father Christmas' hand. Little G was suitable shocked, and there then followed a big discussion about the role and purpose of Father Christmas, with me trying not to be didactic, in case I deviated from the script that I hadn't been given.

Ever since then, however, it has been Christmas Day in the dolls house. This follows the same routine: the family sit round the kitchen table, which is piled high with a turkey, a birthday cake, tiny jam tarts and two miniature bottles of red wine. After dining, the three babies of dubious provenance are put to bed in the nursery, while the rest of the family slump in the living room, until the presents under the tree are doled out.

At some point, the minute red plastic phone will 'ring', and Little G, acting as surrogate family member, will pick it up. The conversation is always the same: their grandma has called. She is coming round shortly, and has lots of presents. We inhabit a universe of complete chaos, whose moral tectonic plates are spinning out of control, so it is comforting to know that here, in Little G's small post-Narnia world, it is always Christmas. And that grandma is on her way.

Saturday, 16 September 2017

Watch out: Serial Killer at Large!


Yesterday (Friday ~ adjust to whenever you are reading this), the other Grumpy Old Sod and I had our letters from Cambridge University confirming that they will take our bodies (post mortem) for students to cut up, thus saving You Must Be Mad around £16k jointly in funeral expenses, and helping youthful medics to appreciate that age is no barrier to being useful. Plus it's the nearest to Cambridge Uni that we'll ever get. All of which has no connection whatsoever with what follows.

As you probably all know, Diamonds & Dust, which was rejected out of hand by my former agent as ''not remotely publishable'' and subsequently went on not only to be published, but to be up for the CWA Historical Dagger, the Walter Scott Prize, the Folio Society Prize, and score 90+ reviews on Amazon, has now developed offspring.

It wasn't meant to. Seriously. I didn't envisage trotting out the two Victorian Detectives Stride and Cully again. But like lily pond paintings by Monet, and Haydn String Quartets, once started, it seemed logical to keep going.

Thus the sequel, Honour & Obey, which was published November 2014, and Death & Dominion,, which came out in October 2015. Rack & Ruin, the fourth outing for Stride & Cully, was published in Oct 2016. The latest book, Wonders & Wickedness came out a few weeks ago.

There are those writers who regard a series as a bit of a 'cop-out'; after all, you've got your characters already written for you. To them I would say: writing a series is MUCH harder than producing a one-off text. And I know what I'm talking about: this is my second series of books. (The Spy Girl teenage series for Usborne was the first)


The main problem is that unless you started with the idea of writing a series, and few authors do, they just tend to evolve, you are stuck with whatever you wrote in the first one. You cannot radically alter the appearance nor personality of the main character/s without readers going ''What the ...?'' After all, it was how they were in book one that will keep them reading books 2, 3, 4, 5 etc. You can and must develop the main characters, but in essence, they have to bear some resemblance to how they were in the beginning.

Then there is the problem of keeping the plot momentum going. I find book 2 is usually the easiest, as it seems to evolve naturally out of the first one. Book 3, however, is far more problematic. New areas have to be introduced to keep the reader interested. Some fundamental shifting of perspective must take place, or else book 3 becomes merely a watered down version of the previous two. Actually, book 3 is usually the pivotal one upon which the rest of the series rests. If you cannot pull it off successfully, it is best to admit defeat and pretend you only meant to write two in the first place.


By book 4, the pitfall is over-confidence. You have run the gauntlet of three books. You feel the surge of expertise as fingers hit keyboard. This, after the previous three, will be a doddle to write. You have your characters, you know how the story arc works. Sometimes this attitude pays off: I still think Dead Man Talking, the fourth Spy Girl book, is the best plotted. However, beware: book 4 can so easily wander off into alien territory, or become a repetition of book 3 with added lacklustre.

Having now reached the dizzy heights of book 5, I am not sure whether I shall carry on or not, because in my opinion, based on avidly reading crime series, some writers manage to sustain plot, characters and reader interest beyond book 5, but many more don't and the result is a series of  flat readalike stories with little variety at best, or downright daftness at worst. (Lee Child manages it brilliantly, according to GOS; Janet Evanovitch does not ~ bounty hunter Stephanie Plum's hamster has survived longer than any hamster should or ought)

The trouble with series is that publishers LOVE them. They are easy to market, and each book sells on the back of the previous ones. Thus the temptation to go on churning them out year after year, when by rights the whole thing should have been allowed to quietly slink off and hide in a dark corner after the fifth one.

I have been told though, that the 'real money' comes from a 5 book series, so I am now sitting back and waiting for it to arrive. Mind, I never thought I'd get as far as a third or fourth book. My former agent didn't see any mileage in the first ...

So what's your experience: Do you prefer reading a series? Or a one off novel? If you are a writer, have you ever tackled a series, or does the prospect fill you with horror? Do share your thoughts....

Saturday, 9 September 2017

Ready, Steady, Review!


If you  follow me on Twitter, you will be familiar with tweets like this:

‏@carolJhedges
Read it?
Loved it?
REVIEW it!

#Writers make the world go round


I tweet it quite regularly to encourage readers to think about putting their thoughts, (hopefully positive) onto a review site after finishing a book.

So what are reviews for? I think they fulfill various functions. Firstly, they help other readers decide whether a book is for them. A slew of interesting and varied reviews (by this I mean at least 2 cogent paragraphs of analysis, not just: 'Ooh, I sooo love this book'/'I didn't get further than page 5' help one to decide whether to download/buy. Or conversely, whether not to waste your time. We are all time-poor. Reviews are therefore an aid to connecting the reader to the right book.

As a writer, I find reviews of my own books useful as a gauge to measure whether or not I am hitting the reader satisfaction button. Are they enjoying the story? Do they get it? Can they follow the plot? If not, how can I improve the reading experience for them in the next book. Reviews are also a personal encouragement - the writer's lot is an isolated lot most of the time. It is good to receive a little praise for one's efforts, especially when the serendipitous happens: a reader finds a whole new layer of meaning that had never occurred to me. Reviews can be a writer's best learning tool, if you let them.

Reviews are also very important in boosting sales. That is why I welcome the way sites like Amazon and Goodreads allow ''ordinary'' people to post reviews, and I get annoyed when some writers are sniffy about ''non-professional'' people expressing their thoughts and ideas, because believe me, the chances of most of us small/self published authors getting our work reviewed in mainstream papers or magazines, which is what we'd all like, is about as likely as Christmas in July.

For me, a special and unexpected reviewing source has come from all those followers on Twitter who tweet a few lines saying how much they have enjoyed one of my books. Or, as someone did recently, treat me (and all my and their followers), to an excellently succinct chunk by chunk commentary on Diamonds & Dust as they read it on a long train journey. Interactive reviewing 2017 style. I never experienced this when I wrote teenage fiction and it has been a revelation.

So in the run-up to Christmas ... and beyond, may I encourage you to read widely and review  ~  it need only be a short paragraph or two. Long essays are not required. But it will make a HUGE difference to us writers.

Thank you.



Friday, 1 September 2017

The PINK SOFA meets #scifi writer Jonathon Fletcher


The Pink Sofa has been on Twitter since July 2012 and one of the first friends it made was writer, gardener, and all-round talented bloke Jonathon Fletcher. Jonathon has advised the sofa on many issues, from planting potatoes in the Hedges Towers allotment, to acquiring dodgy illegal space weaponry that enhances its status with lady sofas. The SOFA welcomes him back, minus armour and arms, to chat about his Space Navy Series, now appearing in print form for the first time. Getting into print hasn't been easy ... as he now reveals.

'It’s more than wonderful to be back on the pink sofa again. I see the cakes have improved somewhat since my last visit. Must be going to Waitrose now, Carol?

I write a military science-fiction / space-opera book series, called the “Space Navy Series”. It’s set in the near future. Humans have colonised other planets and there is a war going on. Typical military sci-fi stuff.

What I think sets my series apart, is that I spend a great deal of time developing the characters and I cross genres. There’s a great deal of horror in my work and a conspiracy plotline that would usually be seen in a thriller. Things are never what they seem. One reviewer described my books as “Star Trek meets Full Metal Jacket”. Think “Game of Thrones” mixed with a little “X-Files” and “Starship Troopers” and you’re getting there.


Carol has asked me to talk about publishing my books in print for the first time. I initially published everything on Kindle through KDP. It was a (relatively) easy way to self-publish and get my stories out there. For anyone who’s interested, I did a blog on formatting for Kindle on my Goodreads author page.

I started with four, novella-length books and then the fifth book became full-length. I started with shorter books to ease myself into self-publishing. I was originally going to publish the paperbacks through Createspace, but then KDP started doing print books through the same platform as Kindle, which made life even easier.

It took me a long time to pluck up the courage to go to print. For one thing, learning the formatting is harder than Kindle. In a Kindle book, there’s no such thing as pages. You delineate chapters, but each page of text simply runs into the next. The reader chooses the font size on their Kindle and that makes the pages longer or shorter. For print, each page is definite, set in stone, and you must make sure they all face the right way.

However, the main reason I took so long is that I’m a stickler for editing. My first book was good, but needed polishing. As I’ve developed as a writer, I’ve got better at it. I waited to commit to print until I was confident that I could present a professional looking book. So, the first thing I did before going to print was to go back and re-edit my books. I addressed some formatting issues, some feedback from reviewers, tightened up the dialogue and added a few extra scenes which I thought were necessary.

My first print book is a compilation of the first two Kindle novellas, “The Might of Fortitude” and “Morgenstern”. Because of that, I decided to have a brand-new cover, rather than a re-hash of the first two. By this time, I had built the trooper costume for promoting my books at ComicCon (I’m also a professional prop/model maker) and so I used the trooper on the cover.

To begin with, I was more worried about getting the format of the cover artwork correct than the inside material. For instance, the number of pages changes the spine width. But in the end, the cover was quite easy. I downloaded a blank, formatted Word document from KDP for an 8x5 inch book. So, I made the front cover 8x5 in photoshop and used Cover Creator to do the spine and back for me. Simples.

Getting the inside formatting right was much, much harder. I couldn’t figure out the headers and footers. I couldn’t get the page numbers to flow consecutively. Every time I cut and pasted chapters in, fonts and line spacing would change. My first attempt had all the pages facing the wrong way so the chapter headings were on the left-hand side.

With time and a great deal of patience, I learned some new things about Word and ironed out all the problems. I now have a formatted Word document that I can simply drop chapters into, for when I get around to publishing my second paperback. I did the same for my Kindle books. I recommend it as a method of working; rather than creating a new document each time you write a book and having to re-do all the formatting, save a pre-formatted document that you can use as a template.

There’s nothing more satisfying for an author than seeing your work as a physical, print book. I will never forget the first person to buy my book at Newcastle ComicCon. He is a wonderful guy named Martin and is ex-Royal Navy. As I’ve based my future military on the British Royal Navy, rather than the more common American Marines model, Martin was a perfect customer for me. My books are full of “Jackspeak”, the slang of British sailors. Martin, a “skimmer” rather than a “sun dodger”, loved the book and gave it a very good review. I’m very grateful for that, as most people don’t bother to post reviews and they are SO important for us self-published authors. There is a book called “Jackspeak” by Rick Jolly, for anyone who’s interested in naval slang. It’s available from Amazon and a percentage goes to a military charity.

The first Space Navy paperback is available from Amazon. I’m planning to release parts three and four (“Berserkergang” and “Onamuji”) as a paperback next year. Then each book from “Belatu-Cadros” onwards will be a paperback in its own right. I’m doing re-edits of them all now.

I’m up to book nine in the Kindle series and I’m hoping to publish “Josiah Trenchard - Prototype” by Christmas. The latest book sees my main protagonist facing one of his deadliest missions yet. Here’s the blurb…

“Josiah Trenchard is a no-nonsense, foul mouthed, alcohol fuelled action hero.
The clandestine “Society” have caused wars, killing thousands and placing Captain Trenchard in mortal jeopardy more times than he’s had shots of “Black Void” rum. Aska Saito, the Society’s prime agent, has divulged their darkest secrets to him, enabling Trenchard to warn the Society off. Trenchard thinks he’s got the Society off his back. He thinks that he can settle down to a quiet life of hunting down pirates in the asteroid belt. He’s never been so wrong…

When several prototype specimens escape inside an underwater Papaver Corporation storage facility, Trenchard and his crew are the obvious candidates to be sent on a daring rescue mission. The only clue as to what happened in the deepest, darkest ocean, is a distress message from a lone survivor; an old comrade from Trenchard’s days on Mars.
Meanwhile, Aska Saito is searching for clues to her past. With a bounty placed on her head she is forced to run, plagued by an enigmatic message and horrific dreams. To discover the truth, she will turn to an unlikely source for help.
Prototype; some things are best left buried.”

Captain Trenchard has developed over the years. He’s a simple man who just wants to do his job, but his life is constantly made more difficult by other people. The Society have manipulated events in the United Worlds because they think they’re in the right. Initially, they’re portrayed as the bad guys, but as the series develops, the lines of morality become blurred. No one is whom they first appear to be.

I love to tear down stereotypes. Readers might expect my books to be a “sausage fest”. This book has a dwarf trooper in power armour and my first openly gay character, both women. I think it’s important to write as many and diverse characters as possible. It’s a big universe out there. Not everyone is a white, male with a jutting chin and rippling muscles. Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, creeds and colours. My strongest female protagonist is a Japanese woman called Aska Saito. She’s running for her life in the new book. Her story is becoming darker and more confusing as the books develop. She starts as a typical stereotype – a Japanese assassin, a cold killer who is adept with swords. By book nine, you realise that there is far more to her than meets the eye. Her story is as important as Trenchard’s. She’s vitally important to the plot and when her big reveal happens, I’m hoping the readers will be gob-smacked.

If you’re interested in reading the story of my no-nonsense, foul mouthed, alcohol fuelled action hero, then you can find my books here…''

viewauthor.at/SpaceNavy

@JonGardener #SpaceNavy

Honour, strength and unity!