Category Archives: Books

#100daysofbfotc Day 5: ‘Crumplefoot Tommy’

by thehistoryinterpreter

Crumplefoot Tommy‘Crumplefoot’ Tommy is referred to in the first chapter of Barefoot on the Cobbles. Although we do not actually get to meet him, we form an impression of his character through his wife and daughter. The ‘Crumplefoot’ nickname is supposed to refer to an injury to his foot, that he sustained whilst at sea. I have probably used this nickname anachronistically, as I suspect he was not injured until later in life but it was too evocative to ignore. Thomas is in his late thirties at the point at which he appears in the story. His wife, who was also his first cousin, has just given birth to the eighth of their nine children. Tommy was in the merchant service and also worked a fishing boat from Bucks Mills. His injury was obviously not life-limiting, as he lived to the age of eighty nine.

‘ ‘Why tears maid?’ asked Albert, moved by the plight of one of Crumplefoot Tommy’s ever-increasing brood.

‘Me da fetched me one.’ The tone was philosophical but she scarcely stifled a rising sob. ‘He said I woke the bebby but I niver.’ ’

Barefoot on the Cobbles will be published on 17 November 2018. More information about the novel can be found here. Copies will be available at various events in the weeks following the launch or can be pre-ordered from Blue Poppy Publishing or the author.

#100daysofbfotc Day 4: East-the-Water, Bideford

by thehistoryinterpreter
DSCF0566

Looking across the River to East-the-Water

As the name suggests, East-the-Water refers to the part of Bideford that lies on the eastern bank of the River Torridge. One of the principal characters of Barefoot on the Cobbles arrives in East-the-Water in Chapter 2 and the following Chapter is centred on this part of the town. Although East-the-Water has never been the principal part of the town, at the time of the novel, the riverside’s wharves swarmed with activity. Higher up the hill were the prestigious villas of the Chudleigh Estate, built in the lee of the seventeenth century Chudleigh Fort. The Way of the Wharves, community history project explores the history of this area in more detail. There is also an account of East-the-Water’s history on the community website.

Books – quite a lot of them! Oh and narrow roads and sheep

by thehistoryinterpreter

DSCF0613I am an inveterate reader. Despite an unavoidable serious cull when I drastically downsized, I still have 11 six foot high bookcases full of books in my bedrooms. I now have more than 1000 books in my living room as well. The only snag is that they are all the same one and I have read it numerous times! This week saw the arrival of THE novel. In an attempt to ensure that copies were ready for the 17 November launch, various contingencies were allowed for. Rather too many contingencies as it turns out. Now I have to find house room for 54 boxes for three months, before I can start selling. Obviously, I will be pleased to think that anyone might want to read it but I am really hoping that not all purchasers will go for digital copies or Amazon orders, as this will not deplete my stash. Currently, when I sit on the settee my knees are in the fireplace, as the boxes are piled behind said settee.

Delivery of the pallet load of books was a challenge. Would you think that a delivery company with a thirty foot lorry might have invested in one of those handy sat-navs that allows you to input the dimensions of your vehicle, to prevent you becoming inextricably stuck? It seems this is an unreasonable expectation. When the delivery driver first rang for directions (it seems he did not have any form of sat-nav or indeed a map but was relying on signposts) he was already a long way down the ‘I really wouldn’t go that way’ route. Despite this, he did eventually arrive in my not very wide road, via some even less wide roads. Book delivery is never straightforward as I do not have a drive but I borrowed the church path temporarily and 54 boxes later, the pallet was empty. Fortunately, I had enlisted the help of a pallet loving fisherman of my acquaintance. The conversation began, ‘Would you like a free pallet?’ I didn’t get to the ‘you have to move 54 boxes first,’ bit.

All I can say is, it is a good job I don’t live in East Portlemouth. We travelled to the south coast to recruit troops for the Siege of Salcombe this week. They were a lovely mixed age audience and it was wonderful to be able to perform to those from 5-85 years old. The journey was ‘interesting’ and yes we do have a sat-nav that takes account of our width. We are used to narrow roads. We are used to very narrow roads. These were debateably not roads at all. Coming in the opposite direction were the ‘I am in a hurry to get home from work’ brigade, who were clearly not expecting anyone to have the audacity to go the other way along the seven foot wide tracks. Then there were the sheep who were wandering along the road for some considerable way. Fortunately, I was not behind the wheel on this occasion, although give me that kind of driving over motorways anytime. I know how to find reverse!

#100daysofbfotc Day 3: Herbert Henry Asquith

by thehistoryinterpreter
H H Asquith Prime Minister via Wikipedia This work is from the George Grantham Bain collection at the Library of Congress.

Image from the George Grantham Bain collection at the Library of Congress, in the public domain.

The Asquith family were closely associated with Clovelly Court and the current owner of Clovelly is Asquith’s great-grandson. At the time of his appearance in Chapter 5 of Barefoot on the Cobbles, Herbert Henry Asquith was the Prime Minister. A staunch Liberal, he was a barrister by profession. He is hailed as the founder of the modern welfare state; a number of significant reforms were introduced under his leadership. He was however a noted adversary of the woman’s suffrage movement and it is in this context that he crosses the pages of Barefoot. His inclusion in the novel relates to a well-known local incident and almost all the words that he uses in the book are taken directly from newspaper reports.

‘Instead of closing his eyes in prayer, the Prime Minister was scanning the note. He looked towards the pew a couple of rows in front of him, where the three young women were seated and then to the side door of the church. His jaw-line, with its cleft chin, was set firm and hastily he put the scrap of paper into his pocket.’

Barefoot on the Cobbles will be published on 17 November 2018. More information about the novel can be found here. Copies will be available at various events in the weeks following the launch or can be pre-ordered from Blue Poppy Publishing or the author.

#100daysofbfotc Day 2: William

by thehistoryinterpreter

William BraundYou will meet William in the pages of the first chapter. William is a taciturn fisherman, who is content, providing there is a meal on the table and no-one disturbs his afternoon doze. He has lived all his life in the fishing hamlet of Bucks Mills, where he fished alongside his father and grandfather and now runs a small Bucks Ledge Boat with his two sons. By the time the story opens, he has lived in Rose Cottage at the top of the village for about three years. He was born in 1837 at the now ruined cottage The Bluff but grew up in King’s Cottage overlooking the sea. When he married, he moved to John’s Cottage and spent a few years at Mark’s, before settling at Rose Cottage, where he died in 1906.

‘Hobnails clashed and sparked on the cobbles outside and the menfolk filled the small room with their bulk and the scent of the sea.

‘Good catch?’ asked Mary.

‘Plenty enough,’ replied William. ‘Takey’s off to Bideford with a cart load. We were late in, so he was already pretty full and we’ve some left he wouldn’t have, so they’ll need salting down.’ ’

Barefoot on the Cobbles will be published on 17 November 2018. More information about the novel can be found here. Copies will be available at various events in the weeks following the launch or can be pre-ordered from Blue Poppy Publishing or the author.

#100daysofbfotc Day 1: Clovelly Cobbles

by thehistoryinterpreter

New InnMuch of Barefoot on the Cobbles is set in the unique village of Clovelly. Clovelly is a privately-owned fishing village on the rugged North Devon coast and many of the cottages that are lived in by the novel’s characters are 400 years old. The steep, cobbled street, that is reflected in Barefoot’s title, means that motorised transport is prohibited. Modern-day residents walk up and down the main street just as Polly, Albert, Daisy and other inhabitants of Barefoot would have done. Although, in the early twentieth century, donkeys, as well as sledges, were used to transport goods, nowadays the donkeys are merely there to recreate the atmosphere of the past. In Barefoot’s time, tourism was secondary to the fishing fleet, whose small boats sought herring, lobster, prawns and mackerel on the uncertain waves. Now, the fishing fleet has dwindled to a handful of boats and Clovelly is dedicated to catering for visitors.

‘Daisy was a child of the season, delighting in the heat and the chance to discard her boots in favour of skipping over the cobbles in her bare feet. She loved the feel of the hard stones as she curled her toes round each pebble, like a bird poised for flight.’ (Chapter 4)

Barefoot on the Cobbles will be published on 17 November 2018. More information about the novel can be found here. Copies will be available at various events in the weeks following the launch or can be pre-ordered from Blue Poppy Publishing or the author.

Introducing 100 Days of Barefoot on the Cobbles

by thehistoryinterpreter

0U9A3415On 9 August it will be 100 days until Barefoot on the Cobbles is launched. Each day, from 9 August onwards, I will be posting a short item about one of the characters you will meet in the novel, or one of the locations that is mentioned. This will give readers an opportunity to learn more about some of the people and places that grace its pages. These will be accompanied by lines from the book. I will continue to bore you with other elements of my rather eccentric existence but these posts will be separate. I hope you will enjoy getting to know the people who have been part of my life for the last couple of years.

Historical Fiction and other Excitements

by thehistoryinterpreter

Picture of posterAs I am in full-on Barefoot on the Cobbles marketing mode, I am excited to share my latest acquisition. Well, that’s the zero marketing budget well and truly blown. I am still working out where I can keep it! I am also now able to announce that I will be speaking at The Genealogy Show at the NEC in Birmingham next June. There are some great speakers from across the globe on the bill, many of who I am proud to call my friends.

Today I was giving a talk in South Devon and was able to combine it with searching out the probable burial place of my 7 x great grandfather, John Braund. It took me 37 years to find him, now I am frustrated because I can’t confirm his parentage after only four years of searching. I am almost certain I know who they were but assembling sufficient evidence to support my supposition is another matter.

And finally because, as a Brit, I have to talk about the weather, an incident from earlier this week. Don’t get me wrong I love the heat, unless I am incarcerated in a small space with a large number of hormonal teenagers that us. The downside is that numerous pesky insects have decided that I make a half-decent meal. My incredibly expensive super-strength insect repellent was confiscated by Qantas security but I do have the equally expensive and as yet unused insect repellent scarf, purchased in order to go to Peru. This takes the form of a circle of stretchy material, which can, the instructions allege, be worn in a variety of ways. Most of these involve me looking as if I am about to hold up a bank (I wish – we are now bereft of an even half local bank and there’s a y in the day, so no chance of the mobile post van turning up). I opt for the least sinister style, which means I have just hung the loop round my neck. It is 80 degrees. Casual callers, such as the postman, clearly think this scarf wearing lunatic should be certified.

Getting Nearer! – – the excitement of indie book publishing

by thehistoryinterpreter

I did think of entitling this ‘it’s coming home’ but I didn’t want to antagonise football fans. It does seem incongruous though that even the quality media outlets are eclipsing the visit by an individual, who is arguably one of the world’s most unpopular, unpleasant and potentially dangerous leaders, in favour of a game (you get that – a GAME) that we didn’t even win.

DSCF0557All that aside, there is super thrilling Barefoot on the Cobbles news. My masterpiece, aka lovingly crafted manuscript, now almost looks like a book. Ok, it is what is known as a block, so it is unbound but it is excitingly close to being a book and I can see what the layout will look like. I also splashed out my zero marketing budget on some promotional materials and there is still a poster to come. In 129 days (not that I’m counting) copies will be available, to read, love, cherish, or light the fire with, according to your preferences. Actually, I am counting because I hope that there will be something coming on this blog in the 100 days running up to launch day on 17 November.

I’ve said it before, I will no doubt say it again, it is possible to pre-order copies already. An ideal solution if you think you’ll forget if you don’t. My preference is to hand over copies in person, perhaps at one of the events I will be attending but for those of you whose paths only cross mine in a virtual sense, then pre-ordering might be the thing. Alternatively, you could support your local independent bookshop and order a copy from them after it has been published. It will be available via Amazon but ideally I would like to see a larger slice of the very small profit go to my publisher, a small bookshop, oh and me!

In the midst of organising a media frenzy, well, a media ripple anyway, for novel #1, #2 is underway. So far it has a provisional title and is 3000 words of notes. It is still a bit of a secret at the moment but it involves another Devon tragedy, set in the seventeenth century this time. Like Barefoot, it is very much about human behaviour and again it is based on a real incident, with female characters predominating.

Hardback or not Hardback that is the Question? With Additional Travel Updates

by thehistoryinterpreter

With the end of Barefoot on the Cobbles almost within touching distance, I’ve been thrashing out details of print runs, prices and other such mundanities. I need to make a decision about a hardback edition. Now, personally, I am not a great fan of hardbacks. They are, after all, just that, hard. I read in bed, lying down. It is how I get to sleep. This means that, when I do doze off, whatever I am reading inevitably falls on my nose. This makes hardbacks somewhat of a health hazard. I am aware that there are those who read in a more conventional manner, sitting in chairs for example – how radical. Perhaps these folk would appreciate a hard back version? Can I canvas the opinion of one or two of you who are eagerly anticipating the publication of my magnum opus? Would you pay perhaps an additional £5 for a hardback version? There will be a ebook option for those who prefer reading on an electronic device. Publication and launch day is set for 17 November and the opportunity for pre-publication orders will be available shortly. I am not prepared to commit to how shortly but I am aiming for the end of March. Anyway, please let me know if you are a hardback lover, so I can judge if a hardback run is viable.

Some of you will know that this year is set to be a whirlwind of overseas travel. Planning these trips has been beset with irritations and anxieties and at one point I was heard to exclaim that I was going no further than Cornwall in 2019. So much for that idea. It looks possible that I will be working overseas twice next year as well. With all this trans-continental travel, you would think I could get myself to and from a rural village about fifteen miles away without incident wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t? – Ah, you know me so well. I set off in thick fog yesterday morning, fog that became ever thicker, to the extent of being impenetrable. By some quirk of fate the powers that be have got it wrong. They have inexplicably decided to shut the main holiday route at a time when tourists are not in evidence. This is a radical policy change but I digress. I was thus obliged to go ‘the back way’. ‘The back way’ gave me an opportunity to post a parcel. When our village post office was arbitrarily closed we were reassured that we could use the next nearest post office (in a village 6 miles away, which you wouldn’t want to go to for any other purpose – perfectly pleasant village and all that, just not much reason to go there). Inevitably that post office is now also shut. Never fear, we have a post van that visits our village daily, except when it doesn’t, due to there being a mechanical failure/operator illness/lack of internet access/two flakes of snow/an ‘R’ in the month. So the non-appearance of said van on Friday meant I had a parcel to post yesterday. I visit a fog bedecked post office, what can go wrong? I kid you not, the post office was closed for a computer upgrade. Onwards through the fog to my destination, parcel unposted. I arrive unscathed.

LucetteI spin away for a few hours. Well, actually I was plying and lucetting but I don’t want to get too technical. I set off home, deciding on a slightly different ‘back way’, in order to avoid having to execute a three point turn in a road barely wider than a car, at a time when several other cars are also manoeuvring. The fog had lifted, this should have been fine. Except that the other ‘back way’ was also closed for repair. The council are obviously using up their meagre road mending budget before the end of the financial year. I use a combination of common sense and sign posts before realising that I have no clue where I am, I haven’t seen another vehicle since I set off, the last building was two miles back and that was a barn. Do I have my ‘emergency’ phone? Well, no – how did I know there might be an emergency? I do however have a sat-nav. I unplug my cosy seat heater in favour of the sat-nav and follow the directions. Now I am more than comfortable with narrow, winding muddy road but I do like them to actually be roads. I bounce along muddy tracks that could not with any stretch of the imagination be described as roads, even by rural Devon, pothole laden, grass-in-the-middle-of-the-road terms. I idly wonder what would happen should I get a puncture. Even the emergency phone would be useless as I would be incapable of describing where to find me. Fortunately, I eventually arrive home. Forget going to Cornwall, I don’t even want to leave the house.