Alex Bell – fantasy author

As previously mentioned here, each time one of my books comes out, my Mum gets me a gorgeous book teacup designed by the eminently talented, and fantastically named, Bethan Lloyd Worthington. Bethan is given a list of keywords from the book, and designs the cups from these so that they are based on elements from the story. It’s like getting a front cover, only even better.

Lex Trent versus The Gods is due to be published on the 4th February but Amazon are sending it out already, and I hear that it has been spotted in some book shops, so I have my teacup a little early.

Photos don’t quite do it justice because the fine detail is easier to see in real life, but they should give the jist. You also cannot tell from the photos that the cup and saucer have both been sandblasted in order to make it appear that they have been lost in the sea for a few millenia – or a few years, at any rate. Whilst I was in Las Vegas last year I went to a Titanic exhibition that showcased some of the exhibits they’d pulled from the wreckage, including cups and plates, and so I can personally attest to the fact that the sandblasting effect is remarkably similar to a cup that really has spent years beneath the sea.  

This is the Medusa Lex battles:

 This is the whiskerfish that Lex . . . ah, well, perhaps I’d better not say as I don’t want to give key plot points away, but take it from me that this strange little fish is very important to Lex indeed.

Inside the cup is a magic hat and wand. Magic hats are very important in this book, and lead to all sorts of trouble:

And in the top right hand corner below is the gigantic sand castle in the sky where the first round of the Game takes place:

So there it is – my fabulous Lex Trent book cup, which I will no doubt spend many happy hours staring at, especially when in need of inspiration. If that doesn’t make you want to buy the book, I don’t know what will. As I said, it’s available from Amazon right now so there is no need to wait any longer, peoples! Flying ships, medusas, floating sandcastles, magic hats, whiskerfish and much, much more (crones, enchanters, duckigs, space ladders, nasal lice – the list is endless) can all be yours when you buy Lex Trent!

This is the exciting tale of Smith and the Snow Hounds. A story of snow, stealth, Siameses and sinister plots. You have never heard a legend quite like this one. Once upon a time . . .

This is Smith:

These are the Snow Hounds:

This is the Evil Siamese, who has just ordered the Snow Hounds to find Smith and destroy him:

The Snow Hounds were shocked, but as the Evil Siamese must be obeyed in all things, they set out on their daring mission to find Smith and defeat him. The Black Snow Hound was the bravest but the Spotty Snow Hound – as shown in the second picture – was able to levitate at will by flapping her ears. Together, they made a formidable team. They travelled many miles through harsh and terrible terrain, sometimes going for days without food or sleep:

Carrying huge and fearsome weapons with them as they travelled:

Until, finally, after many months of weary searching, the Black Snow Hound discovered Smith’s Lair:

And the White Snow Hound pulled off Smith’s nose and ate it - effectively stripping the snowman of all his powers:

The Snow Hounds returned to the Evil Siamese’s Castle in triumph:

And the Evil Siamese slept well that night, safe in the knowledge that her enemy had been defeated:

And they all lived happily ever after, except for Smith.

The End.

Cast:

Black Snow Hound: Loki

Spotty Snow Hound: Moose

Evil Siamese: Suki

Smith: As Himself.

Pretty good, innit? I ought to go into the novel-writing business . . .

‘Everything should taste like bacon.’

It’s hard to argue with that, I feel. But, as a vegetarian, this obviously presents me with something of a dilemma. Imagine my delight, therefore, when I received this for Christmas:

It is bacon flavoured mayonnaise! Why was this not invented before? You can smother it on anything! I have eaten it with jacket potatoes, pizza, veggie sausages, sandwiches . . . in fact, so far, I haven’t found anything that is not improved by Baconnaise. Although not advertised as a vegetarian product – for this would, no doubt, massively put off the hard core meat eaters – Baconnaise is vegetarian. I wouldn’t say this product was the highlight of my Christmas (because that would, possibly, be a little pathetic) but it was certainly one of the highlights. Baconnaise has brought joy to my life. Rather like when I first discovered a vegetarian red wine after five years, and took to carrying the bottle around the house with me, which concerned visitors for it made me look like one of those depressed, alcoholic writers which, of course, I am not! Aha ha. I suppose eventually I will stop carrying the Baconnaise around with me but, honestly, I could eat it straight from the jar with a spoon, it tastes that good. 

But anyway – hello 2010. No doubt, like all the other years, there will be both good stuff and bad stuff. Mostly I am looking forward to Lex Trent coming out in February, as I wrote the first draft of that book when I was twenty years old – three long years ago, although it seems like much longer – and, really, I have had to wait an indecent amount of time to see it on the bookshelves. But I know that this year, my work will be duly universally recognised as the genius that it really is. Or else, people will just say with a haughty sniff: ‘But it’s not Terry Pratchett, is it?’ in much the same way that one might sneer at Daniel Craig because he is not Sean Connery. No one is Sean Connery. Probably not even Mr Connery himself. I think my favourite James Bond is Pierce Brosnan but there it is, we all have different tastes. To me, Baconnaise is the nectar of the Gods – to others it might be some foul spread that no one in their right minds would willingly eat.

Now I’m off to write my traditional long list of New Year’s resolutions, about half of which I might actually keep.

I love politics. I love the questions and the debates and the search for a better way of doing things. I even wanted to be a politician once, and still toy with the idea even now. But I hate all the cynicism that goes with it. I really do not understand why, but people seem to take an almost hysterical glee in hating politicians. Quite frankly, I find this absurd. The vast majority of people who go into politics do so because of a desire to do some good. They are amazingly hard working people who have to work exceedingly long hours. And yet people just love to hate ‘em.

Last night, I watched Frost/Nixon:

Loved it. It’s a superb film that I would recommend to anyone with an interest in politics. Or, indeed, anyone with an interest in entertaining, thoughtful, intelligent, perceptive, films. I even forgot to drink my Heineken – that’s how gripped I was. So, this film has prompted me to write a post I’ve been meaning to do for a while – one that was originally to be titled ‘I Love Iain Duncan Smith.’ I have decided to rename the title because the above film reminded me of the fact that this modern day witch hunt against politicians is no modern thing. It did not all begin with President Bush and Prime Minister Blair (both of whom – although it is astonishingly unfashionable of me to admit – I have a great deal of respect for) – these witch hunts were going on back in Nixon’s day and, no doubt, before that as well.

What I loved so much about the film was its refusal to demonize President Nixon. It approached the Watergate issue in a balanced way that, I felt, made allowances for human failings because of the fact that Nixon was human and, therefore, imperfect, rather than suggesting Nixon was a villain and, therefore, evil. People love to look at it in black and white, but surely there is only a great big mess of grey in politics – and especially in Presidential politics.

It seems to me that politics suffers from something that I shall refer to as the Spiderman Effect. Everyone loves Spiderman at first – in the same way that people suddenly ‘love’ reality TV contestants (despite the fact that they don’t actually know them), and everyone loves a political party when it first comes to power because ‘everything will be different now’. But no matter how much Spiderman gives to the people, they will always turn against him sooner or later because even Spiderman cannot make peoples’ lives instantly perfect. That is why if any politician or political party is around for long enough, the public will always turn against him (or them) in the most vicious way imaginable, quite blind to any of their past achievements. It’s stupid nonsense, of course, like deciding you suddenly hate Spiderman, but it’s true just the same.

I often cringe to see the way the audience behaves on Question Time. I can practically see the pitchforks. When I was studying politics at college, I went to a Q and A thing in Westminster, with John Reid representing Labour, and Iain Duncan Smith (then the party leader) representing the Tories. Being 2003, Iraq was high on the agenda and, in fact, John Reid and Iain Duncan Smith were saying more or less the same thing on this issue. Imagine my astonishment, therefore, when John Reid was earnestly applauded by the audience, and Iain Duncan Smith was enthusiastically booed. Even though they were both saying the exact same thing! It was as if people were so set on disagreeing with Duncan Smith that they did not even hear what he was saying. They began to boo even before he had finished his first sentence. In fact, as soon as he came on the stage, people started jeering and holding up signs mocking the ‘quiet man’. I realised then that it didn’t actually matter what Iain Duncan Smith said to us, he was never going to receive applause. What a truly sorry state of affairs. I was ashamed to be part of such an audience. I must say, though, that he handled it all with extraordinary grace and eloquence, and even though I am a staunch Labour supporter, I was terribly impressed and wrote him an extremely gushing letter when I got home. I take my hat off to him for his patience, but I don’t think I could remain quite as cool in the presence of such dire stupidity, and would be very tempted to pull a John Prescott which, no doubt, would go down very badly indeed.

It seems that at least one out of every three ‘questions’ on Question Time is not a question at all but rather an audience member’s rant about all the things they think the government is doing wrong. And then – the cherry on top of this ridiculous cake – is that when the panellists actually debate a point of policy, they are very often maligned for ‘squabbling.’ Honestly, what an absurd choice of word. Disagreement is the entire point of a debate. It allows for the exploration of, and search for, new ideas. No matter how much people might wish it were otherwise, there are no pantomime villains in politics. If someone is after fame and riches then politics would be the very last route they would choose.

I particularly hate hearing people refer to a political leader as ‘stupid’. Take President Bush, for example. You can disagree with his policies all you like – indeed, I disagree with most of them myself, just as I would disagree with any other Republican – but to suggest that the man is stupid is nonsense. You don’t get to be the President of the United States unless you are an extremely intelligent man, and any suggestion to the contrary is an utter fantasy. Wild, emotive insults of this type only serve to give less credence to genuine criticisms.

If politicians or parties are instantly dismissed as a ‘waste of space’ then, no doubt, this makes the speaker feel very clever and superior but, let’s be honest, it is a cop out. To sneer at the efforts others make whilst making no effort yourself is a childish sort of strategy. As Charles Dickens remarks in A Christmas Carol: ‘it is always the person not in the predicament who knows what ought to have been done in it, and would unquestionably have done it too.’ I have no problem whatsoever with people disagreeing with my political views on any or all counts (indeed, I very much enjoy it if we can debate it intelligently). What I have no patience, or respect, for is this trend for politician-bashing. One that, as Frost/Nixon shows, is not a new craze, and is not likely to end any time soon. Vapid insults directed against politicians are boring to me. As Father Copleston once said: ‘If you refuse to sit down at the chess table, you cannot be checkmated.’ Genuine political debate has therefore got to be more than simply bleating in a whiny voice: ‘the politicians are doing it wrong’ – it’s got to involve some suggestion as to what would be doing it right. Repeatedly shrieking ‘burn the witch!’ will achieve nothing, and, if you’ve really got nothing more condemning to say than that, makes you look a bit of a fool. Criticise politicians by all means, but at least have the sense to do it intelligently if you want to be taken seriously. 

Maybe – just maybe - the truth is that there are no easy answers in politics, no quick fix solutions, no secret money trees growing round the back of 10 Downing Street that the PM guards jealously because he doesn’t want to pay out on health care etc. This is why the debate is so fundamental – because it is the search for the least bad way of doing things. I have found few people able to rationally discuss politics - especially at university where everyone liked to think they were against ‘the establishment’ which, to hear them, you would think had been doing things wrong for years out of pure stubbornness -  but it is a real pleasure to find the odd person who is willing to engage in genuine political debate rather than a playground-like exchange of insults.

My point in all this is that if only a few more people in the audience in Question Time would actually ask a question when they get the microphone (rather than shrieking: ‘burn the witch’), and then, once they get the response they requested, extend the politician the intellectual courtesy of accepting it as the best answer they are able to give at the time (being only human rather than Spiderman), then perhaps debate would be calmer, more rational and more productive. It never pays to hate Spiderman, after all.

This post has gone on long enough, although I’m sure I will blog about specific political issues in the future because I just find it all so interesting – like getting a little brain workout. But now, because every political rant should end on a light note, here is a snap of my Great Dane – the most beautiful dog in the entire world – getting into the Christmas spirit:

I’ve recently been reading Jessica Morrell’s Bullies, Bastards and Bitches, which is, ostensibly, about writing villains, but also discusses heroes, unsympathetic protagonists, dark heroes and bad boys. It’s a fantastic book, nicely set out, with some very interesting observations about characterisation, and I would highly recommend it to any aspiring (or, indeed, professional) writer. At one point it talks about alpha males and beta males and uses Mr Darcy as an example of the former, and Mr Bingley as an example of the latter. Morrell suggests that women want to marry a Mr Bingley but want to read, and fantasise about, Mr Darcy. It’s an interesting and, I think, accurate suggestion.

Mr Darcy – and most of the romantic male leads in the Madeleine Brent books – are, in some ways, anachronistic. Women do not depend on men in the same sort of way in the modern world, and marriage is not a woman’s sole preoccupation. When I studied A Level Sociology, we looked at articles from the 1950’s giving advice to wives and I remember being particularly horrified by a passage suggesting women take a nap shortly before their husbands were due to arrive home so that they would be suitably refreshed to receive him. They were then to change their dress, put a new ribbon in her hair, and greet the husband at the door with his slippers. In addition, they should not be the ones to instigate conversation because the husband has had a long day and might be tired etc. That being the case, the last thing he wants is a chattering wife bleating dull, domestic trivialities in his ear. Garghh! It’s just too awful! And only fifty years ago!

So, this is a problem with some male romantic leads like Mr Darcy. It might have been fine back then, but modern women do not want such over-bearing coddling. The feminist in me revolts against this character type.

And yet . . .

Who can deny that there is an appeal in spite of all this? I have recently watched the excellent Lost in Austen and am now re-watching the definitive Pride and Prejudice (of Mr Colin Firth renown), and I will admit that I am as much enamoured with Mr Darcy as the rest of the female audience/readership. I will also admit that I am an avid reader of the Madeleine Brent books, even though I feel they are something of a guilty pleasure. I feel I ought not to like them – being modern and all – but I am hooked regardless.

But much as I enjoy Darcy’s character in the book and TV adaptations, a real life version is really the very last thing I would want. And that is because, for me, a Darcy ceases to be interesting as soon as he professes his love. As soon as he does that, he is no longer cold and immovable but just another silly sap mooning after a woman. The book has to end with the marriage because nothing would be interesting after that. You want the characters to get to that point but have no interest in reading beyond it. Nobody likes gooey love, after all.

This is why I think that Jessica Morrell’s suggestion above is an accurate one. Marriage to Darcy may sound great on the face of it, but in reality? Surely one of the most important aspects of a relationship is that you are able to have fun with your partner. For example, I’m not sure that I could have a long-lasting relationship with a guy who refused to wear a silly hat at a Christmas party. There is always one whose vanity forbids it. And there is always one who collects the spare hats, and ends up wearing two, or even three silly hats all at the same time. The cold aloof Darcy routine is fine for creating mystique etc, but it might start to wear a little thin once you were actually married.

So although at first it seems quite odd to suggest that women might prefer one kind of man in dreams, and another in real life, I think there is definitely some truth to this. I don’t know if the same thing applies to male readers having an ideal female character in film/literature but quite a different ideal woman in real life. Presumably the same principle might apply, although I haven’t seen as much evidence of it.

I suppose the point is that characters like Mr Darcy drive the story more, so they are far more exciting and entertaining to read about. Characters like Mr Bingley (or, say, John-Boy Walton, or George Bailey), whilst being ideal husband material, are not exciting, so they do not get to take on the smouldering romantic roles in a book (or film). Perhaps the difference is that real life cannot be exciting all the time – and who would want it to be? As Morrell points out, alpha males are not going to be the types to stumble out of bed to see to the baby in the middle of the night, or clean out the cat tray – or, indeed, take great delight in wearing lots of silly hats at a party. And, much as I love Mr Darcy in the context of his own little fantasy world, in real life I would always rather be with the guy wearing three hats rather than the guy who is too far above himself to even pull a cracker with someone, let alone wear the paper hat inside it.