Email Problem Fixed

Just a quick post to say that it has recently been brought to my attention that the email account attached to this website was not working. This means that if you’ve emailed me using the contact form after 1st October then I have not received it, and I’m very sorry if it looked like I was ignoring your email. The problem now seems to have been fixed. For future reference, I will always reply to reader emails within one day of reading them, and I check this account most days. If you email me and you don’t get a response within a week then that means I am:

a) On holiday and unable to access the internet.

b) Experiencing technical difficulties.

c) Dead.

I love getting emails from readers saying they’ve enjoyed the books (what author doesn’t?) and unless I ever metamorphose into one of those indecently successful, ridiculously rich authors (who the rest of us all secretly loathe) and receive hundreds of emails a day, I will always reply to anyone who writes to me (unless you’re a casino wanting advertising space on my site, in which case I may not bother.)

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Loving Jamaica Inn

I love Jamaica Inn. For those who do not know, it is an ancient coaching house from the 1700’s, situated on the edge of Bodmin Moor in Cornwall, spectacularly shrouded in ghosts and atmosphere. It is also the inspiration, and setting, of Daphne du Maurier’s novel of the same name – a fantastic story of smuggling, murder, romance and intrigue. She wrote the book after becoming lost on the moor, and finding Jamaica Inn in the fog, where she was then entertained by the local vicar with ghost stories and tales of smuggling.

If I lived closer to it, I would be a permanent fixture in the Smuggler’s Bar. They have six reasonably priced vegetarian options on the menu (SIX! Arghh!) (one of which is veggie sausage and mash – arghh, arghh, have I died and gone to heaven?). I love the timelessness of it – especially when you stand in the courtyard outside in the dark, with the sign creaking ominously, and all this mist pressing in. I can practically see Daphne du Maurier riding across the cobbles on her pony. They even have a little brass plaque on the floor in the bar saying ‘On this spot, Joss Merlyn was murdered.’ For some reason this plaque delights me profoundly. I try not to spend too much of my time staring at it when all the locals are walking past it in such a blasé fashion. Plus I do realise that Joss Merlyn is a fictitious character created by du Maurier and so was not really murdered on that spot. In fact he wasn’t murdered anywhere but in du Maurier’s own head. But still, when I see the plaque, I can’t help thinking: wow, Joss met his well-deserved end right here on this spot!

Conveniently, Jamaica Inn also allows dogs. Moose was very warmly welcomed despite her huge size. Not only that but she was even provided with her very own private doggy water bowl. This is what I call service.

We’ve been in Cornwall since yesterday, and as a result of peoples’ reactions towards her, I am starting to suspect she may have sneakily got bigger without my noticing. She just looks medium to me. But when you hear people remarking upon her size in shocked voices, it does make you wonder. She has started leaping right over Loki in the garden, but I just sort of thought perhaps the Doberman was shrinking. But it has to be said that she takes up significantly more room on the back seat of the car than she did last time we came to Cornwall in May. In fact, there is not really room for me on the back seat as well but I manage to squash in there somehow. If she had any sense she would just put her head on my lap but, being a little afraid of the car, she prefers to sit on my lap as much as she possibly can. This is very sweet, because she becomes very cuddly in the car – like a nervous child – but it does mean that by the time we get wherever we are going, I can no longer feel my legs, and I am covered in slobber (because Moose has a propensity to motion sickness, which causes her to drool). My favourite cap is now quite ruined.

But, anyway, I am sure that she thoroughly enjoyed her time at Jamaica Inn, even though she had no idea that she was snoozing just mere feet away from where Joss Merlyn was murdered! Perhaps I will consider moving to Cornwall in the future. That way I can go to Jamaica Inn every day, and perhaps get lost on the moors and have an amazing idea for a novel. Or perhaps go back in time. Every time I go to Jamaica Inn I can’t help half expecting it to happen. And I am always just a little bit disappointed when I open the door to the Smuggler’s Bar to find that there are no bloodthirsty smugglers in tricorn hats gathered there, all staring at me murderously. Maybe next time. Hope springs eternal, and all that . . .

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In Defence of Jedward

I’ll start off by saying that John and Edward Grimes are not my top favourite in the competition. That place is currently filled by Joe McElderry – I love his voice, and his demeanour, and I really hope that he wins. But I do like Jedward as performers, and I think the flak they have received in the press, and elsewhere on the internet is ridiculous and absurd. This is, after all, a TV show, and the nature of that show is that someone has to go out every week. It is therefore foolish in the extreme for people to be outraged simply because an act they preferred was voted off. Even more nonsensical is to direct that outrage towards the judges when it is, after all, the public who decides who ends up in the bottom two.

Whilst I was at university I worked in the customer complaints department of a travel agency, dealing with letters of complaint that clients wrote regarding their holidays. I read hundreds of these letters – many of which were written by the sort of person whose philosophy regarding grammar runs something along the lines of: ‘why use just one exclamation mark when you can use ten?!’ – and I came to realise that there are some people who should never, ever leave the UK, for business, pleasure, or anything else. They are simply not cut out for the trials and tribulations of travelling. Having seen some of the astonishingly vicious and emotive remarks floating round the internet regarding the X Factor, I would have to say that the same applies for talent show viewers – some people should never, ever watch any talent show of any type. If you cannot cope when your favourite act does not get through, then you should not tempt fate by watching the show. It is as simple as that.

I watch, and enjoy, the X Factor, but in the three years that I have been watching it, my favourite act has never won. This has never yet sent me into a cyber-rage, and I don’t believe it ever will, for the simple reason that, to me, the show is a pleasant diversion on a Saturday night, not the thing that consumes my entire life. It’s bad enough when people get unnecessarily upset because their favourite has not got through, but to descend into hysterics because your least favourite did get through is mean-spirited, petty and cruel. It is a real shame that people take such delight in singling out a particular act to hate in this manner. I could understand it if that act was, say, racist or sexist, or otherwise grossly bigoted in some way. I could understand it if they had committed some act of criminal violence or terrorism. But when their only offence is that their style of music is not to everyone’s tastes . . . I’ve just got to say it again: how patently absurd!

Personally, I actually preferred Lucie’s voice – in fact she was my second favourite, after Joe – but I really enjoy Jedward’s performances too, and I have a huge amount of respect for their cheerfulness and enthusiasm. To come on smiling week after week, even when the audience is booing them (and I think that behaviour is utterly outrageous) shows a tremendous amount of professionalism, and I take my hat off to them for it.

I suppose this nonsense is something that all celebrities have to put up with to some extent. When you get people attacking Steven Fry on Twitter, or hitting Leona Lewis at a book signing, you realise the sad truth of this. But I, for one, sincerely hope that the twins can rise above the blood-thirsty beast that is the Public, and go on to achieve some form of long lasting success.

END OF RANT

How great to have a blog where I can spout off about things like this. Join me next week (or whenever I get around to it) for my next cyber-rant on how much I respect Iain Duncan Smith, despite the fact that I am no Tory.

(And just in case anyone was thinking about leaving an excessively hateful comment about Jedward/their performance/their singing abilities/or whatever – don’t bother. Any such comment will very promptly be deleted by myself. This blog is to remain a malice-free cyber-zone at all times.)

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