Category Archives: Inspiration

Cats and Books – what a combination!

How is it possible that our lovely summer has already slipped into Autumn? And this time it was even more of a shock because the glorious weather had just turned a whole lot cooler. Luckily, for me, my Grecian writing retreat was just around the corner.

And what a (re)treat! Our small writing group was unfortunately one down (Suzanne Goldring couldn’t make it), but Carol McGrath, owner of a property in the sun-drenched, stunning coastline of the Mani, was a great hostess to Gail Aldwin and me in spite of having recently undergone a major operation. The four of us have annually (when possible) come together to write in The Greek House, sight-see, eat delicious food and share wine, shop (difficult to resist the colourful clothes at bargain prices), and relax in the blissful warmth of a summer evening.

This time we went to an unusual concert in the mountains, given by three vibrant young women who played different instruments and sang in 28 languages. Their voices in perfect harmony were magical. With all this going on, you’d think we’d have no time left to write. Wrong! We managed several hours every day, and at four o’clock we’d meet for tea and homemade scones (by me!) and read out our chapters and critique them. It works like a dream. I wrote 11,000 words – a record in 7 days for me. No matter that I deleted at least a thousand when I was home. That’s all part of the writing process.

In August, I gave a talk at the University Women’s Club where I’ve been a member for over thirty years. The subject was some of the iconic buildings I’ve used for my settings in my novels. It was the first time I’ve ever used a projector and screen and although I’d practised under the instructions of author Alison Morton (also a member), who kindly put the slide show together, I was still nervous on the night.

Of course, technology sometimes acts up (not my fault, of course!) but gave the audience a few laughs – never a bad thing at a talk. I was surprised so few of the women (there were only two men in the audience) had been to Bletchley Park and Churchill’s Cabinet War Rooms, so I’m hoping my books on those subjects will inspire them to pay a visit.

One of the slides I showed was Longleat, near Bath. It’s been on the television several times lately but mostly commentating on the grounds and the history of the world-famous safari. However, during the war the safari didn’t exist. The Marquis of Bath was requested by the War Ministry to take in a private school called The Royal School for Daughters of the Officers of the Army. I read a memoir of one of the girls who attended there during the war. A spoilt and rebellious child, she was eventually expelled.

The Marquis also gave permission for the Americans to build an American military hospital in the grounds. Perfect! I now had an American doctor who would be the hero, working and living in a conglomeration of hurriedly built huts, and my heroine would be in the grand house as the librarian.

Throw the rebellious teen (they didn’t use the term ‘teenager’ in the war) into the mix and I had the fragments of a story which became The Wartime Librarian’s Secret, published last July. You can see how it appeals to cats as well as readers!

The penultimate building I showed was the club itself. I told them this is the setting I’ve chosen for my latest book, out next June. It’s called Wartime Secrets at the Mayfair Club: The Ladies’ Mayfair Club survived the Blitz – but can it survive betrayal?

Just days ago I wrote THE END on a very rough draft, but at least the story is down so I’m able to enjoy all the editing it needs before submission. This time I’m tiptoeing into spy-land and have discovered another piece of history – namely the British Union of Fascists – that I never realised was quite so widespread and so treacherous, and that if Oswald Mosley and his tens of thousands of supporters had been successful, they could have completely changed the outcome of the war.

* * *

If anyone is near Lewes, East Sussex on Saturday, 15th November, do come to a talk I’m giving in the library located at Styles Field, Friar’s Walk, 1.30 – 3pm and signing copies of The Wartime Librarian’s Secret. I would love to see you so please introduce yourself if you do. There will be a similar slide show to the one in the UWC and you’ll have the chance to see the last slide which is actually a video made especially for me showing the ultimate iconic building – where I write!
Until next time, happy reading.

Molly Green

Spring Travels

The US cover for Winter Wedding at Bletchley Park

These last few weeks I’m back in travelling mode. In April I kicked off with a visit to Dorchester to be with two of my writing pals, Gail Aldwin and Suzanne Goldring. Unfortunately, Carol McGrath, one of our foursome called the Vestas, couldn’t make it (she was on her own travels).

We’re all published writers covering a variety of genres and take these retreats seriously by being disciplined in progressing with our current work and stopping in the afternoons to read out our chapters and critique them. That’s probably the most valuable part of our working holiday and it didn’t disappoint as my goal was to write the very first chapter of my next novel. Result! However, it needs some strict restructuring and editing but it’s normal for this beginning stage.

Then in May my sister, Carole, and I went to Yorkshire on a steam train holiday with Inside Track. They are a small family business and pay attention to detail, besides having great characters for tour guides. My interest in trains of the 30s was sated by wandering round steam train sheds where you could watch mainly retired men at work restoring the carriages, trying out compartments in first and third class carriages at a super train museum (the third class was absolutely luxurious compared with our first class today) and speaking to all sorts of volunteers that knew everything there was to know about steam trains. Not only do I love them – and miss travelling on them as I used to when a child and teenager – but I write Second World War novels and my heroines are always boarding and alighting from trains, sometimes in highly dangerous situations.

I have a very personal interest in the details of the exterior and interior of a wartime train in that my two builder/craftsmen are building me a railway carriage in my garden. The minute they finish, two-thirds of it will become my office where I’ll be writing my next novels! The other third will be designed and fitted out like half a first-class compartment. (Note the authentic train door propped against the wall.) That’s where I’ll do my proofreading, dream up the next obstacle to throw at my heroine, and maybe even have a nap. I can’t wait. There will be updates!

Progress so far on ‘the carriage’!

My next travel on the agenda is to go with Carole to the States at the end of this month to visit her son, Adam, and his family in the South. Covid has prevented her from seeing them all during the last years so we intend to make up for lost time. They recently moved to Savannah in Georgia which has to be one of my favourite cities.

I think that’s it for now. Spring, weatherwise, has been a bit of a let-down, though the countryside looks beautiful and green. Summer is just around the corner when I’ll be back from the US ready to give you another update.

Happy reading and writing!

Molly

Synchronicity gone berserk!

Molly Green looking surprised!

When you’re an author you rarely know the impact one of your books might have on a reader. I recently had a Canadian lady contact me through this website and this is what happened. (She has given me permission to use it in its entirety for my blog.):

Hello Molly,
Greetings from Canada.
I just purchased your novel “An Orphan in the Snow” to give as a gift.
I felt I had to write to you and explain the circumstances surrounding the purchase.It was on a shelf in a bookstore. For some reason my eye went to it and no others. I feel that synchronicity was at play and I think you will agree when I explain.
I have a friend who is celebrating her birthday on February 13 and I was out today looking for a birthday gift for her. The bookstore visit was for myself as I am an avid reader. However I had to purchase your book for her BECAUSE her name is JUNE LAVENDER and her grandmother came to Canada in the early 1900’s as one of Dr Barnardo’s children! You definitely wrote this book for June.
I cannot tell you how excited I was when I read the inside flap of your book and saw the connection to the main.character. I cannot wait to give her the book and see the look on her face. We were born in 1940 (me) and 1943 (June) so we are both products of WWII and remember the stories our parents told us about the war.
I just wanted to let you know how happy you have made me, the giver and June, who will soon receive it. As I said, SYNCHRONICITY at work…I was destined to find that book.Be assured we will now both be reading more and more of your books.
Carleen

These coincidences are quite amazing, but for me it was the first one I couldn’t take in. Imagine wanting to treat yourself to a new novel and you’re in a bookshop facing shelves of fiction. Your eye goes to only one book which you take down from the shelf. What could have made Carleen’s eye go to mine amongst scores – even hundreds of others? It really was as though she was fated to pick that one. We’ve exchanged quite a few emails since then where another coincidence came to light. Canadian June’s father was in a wheelchair, and my fictitious one was, too, though he was faking it.

Tragically, June recently lost her only daughter and Carleen told me her friend is really enjoying my book which is managing to distract her for an hour or so whenever she picks it up. I’m not ashamed to say it brought a tear to my eye and I feel incredibly humbled that my story was able to give her a little relief – even though only in the minutest way.

Here is a photograph of the ‘real’ June Lavender (who gave me permission to use it).

Other news is that today I finished the first big round of edits for my third novel which completes The Bletchley Park series. There will be several more full edits but I find this particular stage is the most tricky as I needed to fill in some gaps of information where I was shaky at the time of writing and which could only be achieved by further research. Then I had to spot any continuity howlers, and finally determine whether I really had an entertaining and hopefully informative historical story that hung together. I will do the easy bit of grammar, punctuation, typos, tautologies, weak adjectives . . . the list goes on . . . during the next round of edits.

The publishers have just come up with the new title (not yet to be revealed) but Bletchley Park Book 3 should be on the shelves by the end of November – just in time for you know what! Hopefully, when you’re looking for a gift for yourself or a friend, your eye will go to my latest novel out of all the other hundreds of authors, just as Carleen’s in her local bookshop in Canada did!

See you in April when we’ll have longer, lighter days which will hopefully put a spring in our step.

Molly

 

Quarter to midnight

Being a writer can be a lonely occupation – Ahhh – but I’m lucky enough to make up the fourth woman of two established writing groups. Suzanne Goldring, one of the authors, has a cottage in Port Isaac – you know, Doc Martin’s country – and invited our group down for our pre-Easter get-together. Oh, joy!

Though it’s not what everyone would consider a holiday. We’re very disciplined and when we meet we always put in plenty of solid work, but make sure we have regular walks along the coast, and wonderful meals both at ‘home’ and in the superb village restaurants. This is combined with much laughter and a slap on the wrists if we are slacking workwise.

We began making plans. Gail Aldwin and Carol McGrath, the other two authors, decided to drive down from their homes, but I chose the Riviera Night Sleeper from London to Penzance. I didn’t want to lose a minute of the first day by travelling.

I arrived at Paddington Station around 10.15pm and made for the first-class lounge. No sooner did I have a mug of tea in my hand, and a complimentary bag of roasted peanuts and biscuits (included in the ticket price) than the porter announced that the train outside the window was ours and ready to board. I knew it didn’t leave until much later, so I finished my tea, polished off a packet of biscuits and all the nuts (not having had any supper – too excited), and grabbed my suitcase and bag. It was time to find my coach.

I adore trains, especially those going on a long journey. And one leaving at a quarter to midnight . . .  Well, that just tops it.

You don’t want to take a suitcase larger than an in-flight bag as the corridor is only one person wide. But the staff were friendly and helpful. A gorgeous-looking woman wheeled my case to the correct cabin, then showed me all the intricacies of how it worked. The worktop hid a good-sized sink with plenty of boiling hot and cold water, a breakfast tray could be pulled down from the back wall of the bed, there was a shallow wardrobe and an abundance of light switches, including an overhead reading lamp, often not even found in a hotel. The bed with its crisp white cover and pillows looked so inviting, I was tempted to slip under the duvet there and then.

But it was only quarter to eleven. The space was too cramped to unpack, and we still had an hour to go. I decided to wander down to the bar. My stomach was protesting but all they had in the savoury section were packets of crisps. Luckily, I had my emergency oatcakes with me. I settled in a comfortable chair at one of the tables and the smiling girl behind the counter brought me a quarter bottle of Prosecco (not included in ticket price!) and a small glass with ice. Although I had my book with me, I got chatting to a very nice woman across the way. Dead on quarter to midnight the train began to move.

I love that moment. It’s spine tingling. You feel you could be taken anywhere. All you have to do is sit back and relax – or in my case, find your cabin again, get into pj’s, make-up removed, teeth cleaned, and hop into the narrowest bed ever, but with an excellent mattress. Lie back and allow yourself to be trundled through the night.

Well, that’s the idea. But a poor sleeper like me doesn’t stand a chance, even with the gentle rocking which should have lulled me off. The train was quiet of human voices and the engine was the merest gentle background hum, but my brain was over-active. I did drift a few times but was relieved when 5.30 rolled round and I could open the blackout blind to watch the delicate pinks and oranges of a stunning sunrise.

By the time I was washed and dressed there was a knock on my door.

‘Breakfast, madam,’ the young man said, thrusting a paper carrier bag in my hands.

Inside the bag I found tea in a styrofoam cup (with lid!), a glass of orange juice and some airline-style bits and pieces I didn’t really fancy. Next time I shall go for the porridge.

It was a scramble to alight at Bodmin Parkway. The same young man came to grab my small case and gestured me to hurry down the long corridor. He set the case on the platform, warned me not to fall down the gap, jumped back in, slamming the door shut, then shouted goodbye. The stop was no more than a minute.

But I was here! There was Dave, my driver, waving from the entrance of the station and soon I was settled in the back of his cab, on my way to Port Isaac. I kept my eyes peeled as the film crew were scheduled to be here at any time. We arrived to find the sea showing only a hint of frilly white edges, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The picture postcard village was slumbering in the early morning sunshine.

‘It wasn’t like this last week,’ Dave said with a grimace. ‘You couldn’t move in the centre for filming.’

Seems I’ve timed it just right.

Now the real work begins.

Where do those ideas come from?

1931 advertisement (Public domain)

Readers are always asking where I get my ideas. Well, I have to confess that the setting for the first trilogy would never have been my immediate thought.

This was a request by Avon HarperCollins who’d just offered me a 3-book deal! In fact, they gave me four words to write these three books: Dr Barnardo’s, Liverpool, orphans, and WW2.

After the initial euphoria I had a complete wobbly. The only recognisable request was the period. That was fine. But I knew little about Dr Barnardo, only that he was more than just an observer of society in the 19th century, and especially of children, but set up a home to take in homeless boys and give them a chance in life. Well, I guessed I could do some more research on him. But three books set in a Dr Barnado’s home – filled with children?

I don’t have any children and am rarely around them. How would I know how children felt, spoke, learnt, misbehaved, interacted – and orphans would have many more problems to deal with. Lastly, I’d never been to Liverpool, and to be honest it didn’t really appeal. I was beginning to think my dearest wish of being published by my dream publisher was doomed before it had even taken off! Anyway, they left me to think about whether I would accept the offer to write The Dr Barnardo’s Trilogy.

Fortunately, my small group of writing friends brought me to my senses and made me ring the editor immediately saying I’d be delighted. I now had to find out everything I could through books and a visit to Liverpool. To my amazement I found Liverpool a fantastic city with some of the friendliest people I’d ever come across. But since the city was the most heavily bombed after London during the war, much was destroyed. However, enough buildings remained for me to take notes of the places where my heroine grew up, and the museums were invaluable to capture the period.

Liverpool 1946 Public domain (https://www.britainfromabove.org.uk/en/image/EAW001918)

Back home, I watched old films to see the way children behaved and spoke, but mostly I wrote almost instinctively, imagining I was that child.

The next trilogy was entirely my own idea. I wanted to write about three sisters doing completely different jobs in the war effort. I knew them quite well as characters but had no idea what they would set out to do. Then I watched a TV programme about Mary Ellis, at 101 years of age describing her time as a pilot in the Air Transport Auxiliary, delivering aeroplanes, including Spitfires, to the fighter pilots. Perfect for independent Raine, the eldest sister!

The middle sister, Suzanne, was musical, so I knew she would join ENSA – that’s the Entertainment National Service Association – and like my heroine, Vera Lynn, would sing to the troops abroad.

The idea for the youngest sister, Ronnie, a tomboy, came late in the day. I wanted something unusual and came across an article about young girls and women carrying cargo from London to Birmingham on the Grand Union Canal in the Second World War. Apparently, the work was so backbreaking, only about 40 of them ever did this work. It would be just up Ronnie’s street.

To complete the family would be a prickly French mother who the girls called ‘Maman’.

Now I’m writing a new series. A tingle shot right through me as my editor said the words ‘Bletchley Park’. I jumped at it. I’d been to Bletchley Park three times over the last 20 years, so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory. However, I knew it would be difficult for me to get to grips with all the code-breaking, but the many books I bought and borrowed played a huge part in my research.

In between the current pandemic restrictions, I managed a day trip with a historical tutor, and this propelled my new heroine to life in that most secret of buildings. More next month about The Bletchley Park Girls!

On that note, I do hope the New Year has all good things – including plenty of fabulous books – in store for you