Twitter - and Sarah Duncan's writing blog

If you’re a writer in the first stages of your career – or any stage in your career, in fact – then Sarah Duncan’s blog is a must read. The author of five novels (including the highly-praised Kissing Mr Wrong), Sarah is also a creative writing lecturer and the Royal Literary Fund fellow at the University of Bath.

I’m a big fan of her blog, which covers everything from characterisation and dialogue to writing a synopsis (or not, as the case may be) and finding an agent. Yesterday’s post, as thought-provoking as ever, examined the thorny question of networking for writers – and more especially, the dos and don’ts of Twitter.

Sarah smartly compared Twitter to a drinks party. “ At this party it's socially acceptable to eavesdrop on conversations and join in if you've something to say even if you don't know the people talking, but generally the party operates on the usual lines,” she wrote. “Only the most socially inept people bang on about themselves all the time, conversations are about give and take, and no one likes being sold things at a social event.”

I reckon Sarah’s drinks party analogy sums up the best and the worst of Twitter. The most entertaining people on Twitter hardly ever mention their books or articles or blogs (mind you, many of them are such superstars they don’t have to), while the most annoying people never blooming shut up about themselves.

Actually, the best things about Twitter are the friends you make. I’ve chatted to lots of people on Twitter so often that I forget I’ve never actually set eyes on them in real life. I met a couple of writers at the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s summer party recently and it felt like I’d known them forever.

Oh, and when it comes to singing Twitter’s praises, my biggest treat of the week resulted from a tweet. Quod, my favourite Oxford restaurant, recently ran a competition to win lunch for two. I retweeted the competition - and guess what?  I won! So thank you, Quod, for a fantastic lunch. It was the perfect end to my week on Twitter. 

Sweltering in the sunshine, revision and The Great Gatsby

Phew, what a scorcher… I’ve wanted to write those words ever since my newspaper days. 

But deep down I wish the azure blue skies and sweltering heat hadn't arrived quite yet. Why? Because every teenager I know is revising for exams right now. And while the papers are full of annoying articles declaring that A levels and GCSEs have been dumbed down (not true, they’re just different), a generation of 16 to 18 year olds are stuck indoors trying to memorise endless quotes from Of Mice and Men. They look pale and stressed and keep muttering anxiously about the scores of exams ahead.

Funnily, enough, the year I took my A levels was a scorcher too. But I didn’t treat them half so seriously as today’s teenagers. Actually, I spent the entire summer lying on a Dorset riverbank sunbathing with friends and reading old copies of Jackie magazine.

But on the up side, teenagers are definitely less sartorially challenged in the sun than grown-ups. I hate my scary white legs and avoid baring them for as long as possible. Even though the sun’s been shining for a few days it’s been a real wrench to discard my habitual black tights and hunt out the fake tan. A London friend told me that on the first day of the heat wave a fellow passenger eyed her thick tights with disdain. “I wanted to tap her on the shoulder and tell her it wasn’t my fault I left for work before the weather changed,” she said. I had much the same feeling today when my daughter arrived home and eyed my blotchy orange ankles. “It's amazing how easy it is to forget to fake tan your feet,” she said.

PS. My son’s just made me watch the trailer for the remake of The Great Gatsby. I adored the novel (did it for A level, in fact) and swooned at Robert Redford in the original movie, so wasn’t that interested. But just take a look. I reckon it’s going to be the movie of the year…

Friday Book Review - The Life of Stephen Lawrence by Verna Allette Wilkins

“He was a wonderful son and a shining example of what any parent would want in a child. I miss him with a passion. Hopefully now he can rest in peace.”

Those are the moving words of Doreen Lawrence, whose 18 year old son Stephen was brutally murdered while he waited at a south east London bus-stop one evening in April 1993.

They’re featured in a sensitive and moving children’s book about the tragedy, which has just been updated following the January 2012 conviction of Gary Dobson and David Norris for Stephen Lawrence’s murder. As author Verna Allette Wilkins writes: “The police are still working on the case as they believe that there were other men involved in Stephen’s death. These men have yet to be brought to justice.”

Even though The Life of Stephen Lawrence is aimed at nine to 11 year olds, I reckon everyone should read it.  As well as highlighting his senseless murder and the findings of the Macpherson Report, which contained 70 recommendations for changes needed in the police force, justice system and society to ensure “zero tolerance” for racism, it lists the powerful legacy he has left behind. There’s the Stephen Lawrence Charitable Trust, launched by Doreen and Neville Lawrence to ensure future generations of young people enjoy the opportunities denied to their son, the annual Stephen Lawrence Memorial Lecture and the Stephen Lawrence 18:18 campaign, which helps disadvantaged youngsters access jobs in the law, media and other fields which are difficult to get into.

But as well as numerous ideas for discussion and debate, this quiet, dignified book really does celebrate Stephen’s life. It vividly portrays an impressive young man who was a brilliant runner, a talented artist and had ambitions to become an architect. He was a real self starter who’d done work experience at a firm of architects, got work as an extra on the film For Queen and Country and designed and sold T-shirts featuring famous rappers.

As Mr Gladwell, his teacher at junior school, said: “Stephen was a good lad. We must make sure that we help all our children learn to live in peace. What happened to Stephen must never happen again.”   

The Life of Stephen Lawrence by Verna Allette Wilkins (Tamarind, £4.99)

Download Olympic Flames for free!

The crowd roared with delight as the chestnut stallion soared gracefully through the air. The fence was more than one and a half metres high, but the rider and horse made the jump look effortless. When the duo touched the ground on the other side, there was a swell of applause from the spectators packed into the stand. The rider, resplendent in a navy blue show jacket and skin-tight white breeches, ignored it all, set on taking the next thirteen jumps with similar ease.

Jack Stone’s jaw tensed as he watched. Stylish, brave and fast - this was a competitor he was going to have to go hell for leather to beat.

Up until now, he’d reckoned he stood a good chance of a gold medal. After all, the American showjumping team had won the last two Olympic titles. Not only that, they had left nothing to chance in their preparations for London 2012. They had been training in the US for months on end, and had only flown into London a week ago. But watching riders of this quality made him uneasy. Only for a second, though – Jack wasn’t the type to be racked by self-doubt. But even so, he felt a flicker of irritation that when it came to technique and speed, the European teams so often had the edge.

These are the opening paragraphs of my new ebook, Olympic Flames. If you’d like to read more you can download the novella for free on Amazon on May 23 and 24. I’d love to know what you think!

The UK's favourite books - but are they yours?

I nearly fell off my chair when I read this morning’s report in Stylist magazine about the UK’s favourite books. My friend Constance clearly did too. “If The Da Vinci Code is really one of the UK’s best-loved books then I’m emigrating,” she tweeted. Her reaction reminded me of Salman Rushdie, who in 2005 described it as "a novel so bad that it gives bad novels a bad name."

But sure enough, Dan Brown’s cryptic thriller was top of the list, followed by The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by CS Lewis, 1984 by George Orwell, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens and then JRR Tolkein’s The Fellowship of the Ring.

Following hot on their heels came another classic from Tolkein, The Hobbit, then The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, Charotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre and in tenth place, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but apart from Jane Eyre, none of the others would make my top ten. Off the top of my head, I started compiling my favourite books. Let me know your most-loved novels, but here's my current list:

1. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

2. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

3. Germinal by Emile Zola

4. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

5. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

6. A Kind of Loving by Stan Barstow

7. How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

8. I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

9. Burnt Shadows by Kamila Shamsie

10. Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín

PS. The survey, carried out by eye health supplement company ICaps, polled more than 1,000 adults across the UK.

Where I discover I'm not as vain as I thought

From bulk orders of REN's Hydra-Calm Global Protection Day Cream to eyebrow shaping, I’m as vain as the next person. Or so I thought. Until I read about the new FaceTime facelift.

Apparently Skype phone calls and video networking have made us all hyper-critical of the way we look onscreen. As you’re chatting away you suddenly notice the alarming new wrinkles round your eyes and your jowly chin. I hate looking at myself onscreen so much that I slnk lower and lower in my chair or lie through my teeth and pretend I can’t get the video to work.

But amazingly, an American plastic surgeon called Robert Sigal has devised a cosmetic procedure to make people look younger when they’re video-calling. After loads of patients told him they loathe the way they look on video he’s developed a technique that involves making incisions in the creases around the ears and “repositioning” (sounds painful) the muscle bands in the neck. Most of his clients are women aged 45 to 55 – all prepared to pay a cool $10,000 to have it done.

Like most US trends it’s sure to pop up on this side of the Atlantic some time soon. But I’ve got a cheaper and far less alarming suggestion.  Use the landline…