Gifts

During a lesson, a small boy gave me a bookmark.  It didn’t look shop-bought.  He must have made it himself.   The delicate paper rectangle had been carefully coloured in.  He was very serious, as if handing over a piece of treasure.  It was one of those magical moments which teachers talk about.

             It turned out that he had stolen the bookmark from another child.

            You can steal ideas, too, and storylines from authors who are respected in the book clubs.  My next volume will have a touch of magic to spice things up, like a cinnamon-flavoured condom.  I see this panorama: an everyday object, mislaid decades earlier at the family home, is discovered by chance, leading a young woman on an emotive quest across oceans and cultures, particularly Asian ones, unlocking secrets which are centuries old and, where necessary, allowing her to travel back in time herself.  With this simple family treasure in her hand, she will find out the truth about her mother’s past, re-evaluate her own life, and appreciate the riches which have lain unnoticed in the world around her, in the people close to her, and – most importantly – inside herself.  The plot will reference historical genocide, caring for a relative who is terminally ill, and the American Civil War, but readers can absorb the bitter moments, and even condone the heroine’s incessant luck, if they value the power of family cohesion.  Not for this volume: vampires; erotica; space ships; a medical thriller.

          The young lady will, of course, also find romance.  My new book involves two lovers from different countries and different centuries. The time travel, remember?

don’t stay too long in Turkey

in the 18^th c. or on
that beach in old Siam

when someone gives you syphilis, you’ll need tablets