The Devil is in the Detail

After the powerful lavishness of my Ford Granada Scorpio I could not simply give up on luxury, so the next vehicle I chose was for the qualities I had become used to, extravagance, indulgence, comfort and opulence, along with power and speed.

Did I mention I was a petrolhead!

I would have purchased another Scorpio, but somewhere in the corporate world of Ford, they threw out everything which made my old car magnificent, replacing it with some freakish, pathetic, strange and ugly looking piece of sh*ty tin. The only connection between my old car and the new model Ford offered was the name badge.

So, I elected to buy a Jaguar… Deal done; I drove away in a dark blue Daimler Sovereign.

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Now, before you get confused, let me explain Jaguar owned the Daimler brand for several years, during which time they used the name to distinguish their most prestigious vehicles, (which were, in all reality, simply top-of-the-range Jaguars.)

Even after selling Daimler, Jaguar continued to use the ‘Sovereign’ designation for their highest-grade vehicles. So, during these periods, you will find cars bearing the Jaguar, Sovereign and Daimler names in a variety and combination of ways, such as Jaguar Daimler, Jaguar Sovereign, Daimler Sovereign and so forth.

To clarify, my car was a Daimler Sovereign Vanden Plas, 4.2. One of only 883 manufactured by Jaguar. Make no mistake, this was a luxury vehicle, the build quality, the ride, the interior switchgear, the leather upholstery, deep pile carpets and the wonderful wood veneers and so on… and so on.

This is how I presume a good book should be.

A good book should have a good cover; not one thrown together with a ‘that’ll do’ mentality but one which shows care has been taken to design something which stands out from the mundane plethora of ‘other books’. Something designed by the likes of PeeJay designs… if you can convince them to accept you as a client. (You can try by emailing them, PeeJaydesigns@mail.com)

The interior format should show individuality too.

As in my wonderful Daimler, it is the attention to detail which made all the difference. Spend some time designing those things that are frequently overlooked, like chapter headings. Carefully select the typestyle you use for them, if you centre the text, or set it to the left or right.

Do you use text-only or incorporate a numerical element? Maybe just number the chapters, keep it fresh, simple. Large numbers or small? left, right, top of the page? In the margin, halfway down? Which typography?

You may even wish to add an Epigraph at the head of each chapter, or maybe a small sketch or image. Possibly an artistic divider or corner art?

It all makes a vast difference a reader holds in their perception of your book; as the adage says, “The Devil is in the Detail.”

That is not all you can do to make a book truly special. Consider the main font, the point size, margins, the depth of headers and footers, the design of the page numbers and their placement.

It all counts. If you read, ‘The Frugal Author’ and ‘Lots of Author Stuff you really Need to Know’, all will be revealed within the pages of these informative eBooks… you can download them right now.

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Spending time working on the presentation of your book will build uniqueness into its very fabric, one which will exude exceptional individuality and distinctiveness, a very attractive fact for those buying your books just as it is when driving a wonderful Daimler Sovereign.

I hope I have given you some food for thought.

I will tell you about other cars I have owned in my next post.

Keep Happy, Paul


Would you like your book published?

Enter the Electric Eclectic Novella Fiction Prize 2020

http://bit.ly/NovFicPrize

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A big chunk of (fast) luxury

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My next significant car was one I regard as my first ‘sensible/adult’ car. The first of only a few which could be classed thus.

When I say ‘sensible and adult’ I mean a four-door saloon. A large family car with plenty of boot space. (That’s the trunk to my American friends.)

That this model boasted a 2.9ltr, 24valve, V6 Cosworth engine was just a simple little bonus.

I loved my Maroon coloured Ford Granada Scorpio Cosworth. It possessed all the best luxury mod cons of the time; quick clear windscreen, electric controlled seats – heated front & rear, electric reclining rear seats, heated wing mirrors, a trip computer, abs and so on. In fact, Ford threw every luxury they had into this big beast of a car, which could accelerate to 60Mph from standstill in around 8 seconds, (quite a feat for a car of that era) and keep going to 140 MPH. I can vouch it could easily do that figure without panting… not on a public road, of course.

I could often be found relaxing in the deep leather armchair style seats, moseying along comfortably at 100MPH while steering with one little pinkie finger. It really was like the lounge of a ‘gentleman’s club’, but on wheels.

What was there not to love?

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Now, this is where I associate this car to that of being an author.

You see, it is all to do with speed and luxury combined.

When I purchased my Granada Scorpio, I did so as a part exchange using the vehicle I was driving at the time… one which was so clearly insignificant to me I forget it entirely, except it was blue… possibly a Vauxhall or another Ford?… as part payment. The rest of the cost was handed over in a single cash payment.

As you can tell from the above, this was not a main-dealer purchase, but a small car dealer who specialised in Ford motor vehicles, particularly the performance models.

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The Scorpio was not new, not even one which could be considered low-mileage. The rear wheel arches were showing the firsts specks of rust. (It was the poor quality of the bodywork which was the eventual demise of this range of Fords.) But it was what I could afford at the time. The few pounds I paid gave me comfort, luxury and satisfied my need for speed.

I think this is the same for us authors.

We may not be able to invest in the newest, latest, all singing all dancing computer, whether from a fruit company or a replacement glazing manufacturer, but we all should have the most powerful, fastest machine we can lay our hands-on.

The reason is, no one wants to wait too long for the processes to take place, the loading, downloading, deleting, moving, sharing of files. Neither do we want to be left hanging while surfing and researching, selecting and storing images, research papers or historical records.

We also need space for our cover images, marketing and promotional material, let alone sales records and accounts.

So, all in all, the computers we need… and I say NEED… must do far more, far more efficiently and comfortably than many are truly able, especially those which come weighed down with Bloat Wear, regardless of what the spotty youth on the shop floor may try and fob you off with, particularly when he finds out you have no idea what TWAIN, Crapplet, Thunking or Blob means when speaking tech-geek.

My advice, if you can upgrade, do.

As when I purchased my Scorpio, you do not need to buy brand new from a main dealer, from a bright and shiny store in a plaza, or an out-of-town shopping complex.

You could do what I do and have someone build you a bespoke system.

I use a local, well respected, tried and tested, computer repair and solutions company which has been serving the local community for many years, at least twenty to my knowledge… when I say ‘company’, I mean son, father and aunty, along with an odd friend, (who may have popped in for a cup of tea several years ago and never left,) who inhabit a small hovel, one which is almost underground, in a side street in my town.

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Bloat Wear

They rid my machines of all the unwanted ‘bloat-wear’ freeing up many gigs of space, add or alter all those PC boards and ‘silly-cone’ bits n bobs, (upgrading maths coprocessors… I overheard that one once… maybe in 1992?), to create a fast machine with an amazing capacity for storage and memory.

My ‘big machine’ (one of those the above people worked their magic on) has such processing power, that for five years we ran the entire UK’s outsourced agency for a major insurance company from home. The system ran a triple screen set up, national communications and real-time monitoring, along with the daily business.

Now, I don’t expect you to need or want such a server in your home, but it does give an indication of how far you could go if specify bespoke.

2017-09-25-productThis laptop, the one I am writing this very post on, says it is a ‘Compaq’, a brand which was absorbed by Hewlett Packard some time back. About the only original thing left is the casing itself. (No one wants to steal an ‘ancient’, well-worn looking laptop).

In it, I now run an Intel Core i9 with associated upgrades. All engineered for a fraction of the cost of going to PC World and buying a slower, less luxurious laptop.

Have a think when you’re ready to move on or renew your hardware. Can you get the performance of a luxury brand for the fraction of the cost?

Unless, of course, you prefer style over substance, why not check out your own ‘local’ computer man. Just make sure they have a good (& long) reputation and proven experience.

Okay, time to stop writing this post and get back to writing my books.

Catch you next time…


 

Just before you go, pop over to my author website and have a mosey around. I am sure you’ll find a book or two to tempt you.

Keep Happy, Paul 🙂

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The ELECTRIC ECLECTIC NOVELLA FICTION PRIZE 2020… is open for submissions

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Are you an aspiring writer or an indie author looking for a publishing contract? If so, the Electric Eclectic Novella Fiction Prize 2020 is ‘right up your street’.

Simply write a 20K to 30K word story, in any genre and about anything you want, and enter the Novella Fiction Prize.

Entry is just £10.00 GBP, (via official entry form) and the winning authors will have their manuscripts published as Novellas.

The top prize is a full paperback publishing package.  Second and third places having their work published as eBooks.

There are also associated prizes, such as cover designs, marketing packages and author assist support.

The Electric Eclectic Novella Fiction Prize 2020 is an international literary competition for emerging writers and indie authors.

Submissions are encouraged from all literary fictional genres with no restrictions on theme or subject.

The emphasis of the judging will be on ambitious, imaginative and innovative approaches which explore and expand creative writing.

Details of ‘How to Enter’ are on the Electric Eclectic website http://bit.ly/NovFicPrize

Mexico, shopping and a passion for words

 

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This is the fifth post in this series, where I feature a car from my past and link it with something to do with being an author.

Today’s post features a British Classic, the ubiquitous Ford Escort Mexico Mark1. Mine was bright yellow. I think it is called Daytona Yellow, but I’ll stand corrected if you know better.

The Mexico was a product of Fords famous Advanced Vehicle Operations (AVO), built to capitalise on their success in the 1970 London-Mexico Rally. It used the same strengthened bodyshell as the RS models but was powered by a 1599cc pushrod engine, developing 86bhp and 92lb ft of torque.

Top speed? 99mph all-out (although ford said it could do 124mph.) That may seem pathetic now but still, the driving experience remains genuinely special.

Don’t just believe me, during the Silverstone Auctions in 2018 a 1973 Ford Escort Mk1 Mexico sold for a new world record auction price of £50,625.

The accompanying photo bears a close resemblance to my 1970s production car.

I was and still am a bit of a ‘Petrolhead’. I love fast cars and been fortunate enough to own several excellent machines and driven some other amazing examples.

It is a passion which I first recall having as a child of four or five years old.

I was born into a working-class family, living in the south of England, a country which was still smarting from the second world war. As with most families back then, it was a matter of make and mend.

Luxuries were simple treats like tinned fruit served with jelly and not as a separate dish on another day. We walked for miles to get to the shops, the market or visit relatives. Not many people owned cars and bus fares were deemed an unnecessary extravagance.

I recall many shopping trips when we wheeled a pram, a large ‘carriage’ type pram with a basket tray underneath and hooks on the handle. In the pram would be an array of bags. Sturdy leather ones for potatoes, vegetables and fresh fruit. Baskets for loaves and eggs, woven hemp or seagrass for the general shopping.

The shopping trip took in the butchers, I would watch as they cut the meats to order and 5fce18b692fa117009b2a6a5682aa3fccounted the number of sausages strung together.

“How thick would you like your bacon?” he asked,

“Number four, please,” my mother would reply.

A weeks’ worth of freshly butchered meats, all wrapped in white ‘butchers’ paper’, would go into one of those bags we brought with us, a particular bag reserved for meat.

This story was repeated at the fishmongers. A piece of rockfish for my father, a small portion of cod for mother and a bag of sprats for us children. Each item wrapped in white paper by the fishmonger who served us. We would have the sprats ‘on toast’ with tomato ketchup or with a slice of bread spread with margarine for our dinner that night.

These purchases again had a dedicated bag. Fish needs to be kept apart from the other foods.

The shopping trip continued. At the bakery, if I were lucky, I would be treated to an iced finger roll. Basically, a plain bread finger roll with a smidgen of pink icing on top. Often, even mostly, this was given to my mother by the baker. A gift for me in recognition of her continued patronage.

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The main grocery store, ours was the co-operative (CWS), was something to behold. I loved this place. For a young child, it was magical. Men in brown coats, with the help of ‘shop boys’, scurried around fulfilling the customers’ orders, mostly women with hats or hairnets who stood gossiping while the storemen collected and packed each order.

Our shopping was piled into a big box, often a long box which originally contained a gross of hens’ eggs. Once the order was complete, the payment was taken, cash, of course, and put with the bill in a large wooden ball.

The ball was then hoisted upwards on a contraption until, near the high ceiling, the ball fell onto a narrow metal track. I watched in wonderment as the ball rolled along this circuitous track above my head and disappear through a hole in the wall.

A few minutes later the ball would return, clunking and rattling along with the same overhead rail system, passing over and under several other wooden balls making their own way back and forth.

Eventually, the ball would drop onto a cage and the shopkeeper who collected our order would deftly twist the ball to open it, revealing the receipt and the change. He would then pass the receipt to mother and judiciously count the change into her palm.

It was some years before I understood the balls were sent to the cashier’s office, where the payment is taken and change made, so those working on the shop floor did not have to (or be trusted with) handling cash transactions.

There is an open-air museum in County Durham, called Beamish. (If you have the opportunity, please go. I know you will love it.) In the reconstructed town, this museum rebuilt an original co-operative store where the payment/cashier system of sending wooden balls along suspended tracks is still operational. One of my delights, to this day, is watching the balls run along those rails, the entire system operated solely by gravity.

It never fails to bring back memories of my childhood.05-The-Co-op-hardware-shop-at-Beamish-1024x768

 

One of our final stops, when shopping, was a second hand (used goods) store called ‘Bluebird’. This is where my mother would buy clothes and household equipment. Many of the clothes were unpicked and made into entirely different attire. The odd bits and pieces of scrap material too small to be useful became dolls clothes for my sisters, other remnants rags for cleaning.

However, while my mother was looking around the shop and gossiping, I would go to the corner of the ‘Bluebirds’ where the toys were, especially the matchbox cars.

Here is where I found a Jaguar XK120 and a 150, both in ‘old English white’, a bright red e-type, a blue Bugatti racing car and so on. Sometime mother would let me keep one and I would carry it, clenched in my small fist, all the way home without letting it go.

I would not let my grip release the car, even when I needed to help push the pram or help mother to steady it up and down the kerbs, the large box on the wire tray beneath, bags sitting in the pram and those with the ‘delicate’ items swinging from the handle. Whatever occurred, I would keep my new car clasped tightly in my palm.

I did not know at the time, but this was, I am sure the beginning of becoming a petrolhead.

My dear little Mexico stayed with me for a well over a year. Only the water pump failed. I must admit I was a little sad to see it go, as I have been with most of the cars I owned.

(My next car, another Ford, soon helped me forget the Mexico… but that’s a story is for another time.)

Anyway… this post is leading me to say a person’s interest, their passion starts somewhere, usually in a small way when a certain event triggers their inquisitiveness, stimulates their curiosity.

matchbox_1120_15For me, it was my child-being falling in love with small model cars which led to me having so many marvellous wheels once I became an adult.

Later, in my teens, I found books created those same heart-fluttering moments of marvel and wonder as I became totally lost in their pages, carried off to fictional worlds which made themselves real within my mind, so real they distracted me at school as I wondered what was happening if I would miss anything, anticipating what the character would do next.

Both reading and driving are passions conceived in childhood and now, in my dotage, they both still excite and comfort me in equal quantity.

I say to you, write if it is your passion to do so. Write in a way and a style which is all yours. Let it be fired by your love and lust for wordsmithing. Look to no one for permission or approval.

Buy the car you want to drive. Write the book you want to read.


You can check out the books I wanted to read because I followed my own advice and wrote them.

They are all on my website, right HERE

Feel free to browse around.

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