Although I stand by my decision to publish and firmly believe the quality of the writing stands comparison with many authors, the truth is, self editing sucks. Even when I was trying to be objective the story carried me along. I tried to stay focused but when the sentences sang to me, when they had rhythm and flowed, I missed simple grammatical errors. The annoying thing is they were so damn basic and yet I was blind to them. For example the eponymous there and their. I read a few random paragraphs today. I was thinking about adding some lines to my blog and the typos just hit me in the face. It added to my underlying feeling of anti-climax following the initial buzz of selling hard copies. I apologise to all those who read the book and are confronted by these errors. I hope it doesn't spoil your enjoyment of the story. I will be even more diligent before committing the completed second book to the printing process. I was naive in thinking I would be able to afford professional editing for the first book. Perhaps for the next one. In the meantime I must try harder. Ouch! a phrase that seems to have followed me down through the years. However it did push me to escape the remedial class and I did end up head boy. So I guess I have it in me. Perhaps we all do.
'Josep wondered where the gentleman had come from, so suddenly had he appeared. One moment he had been in pleasant conversation with his childhood friend Bepop, bemoaning the lack of a good woman in their lives, when suddenly, in his stead stood a tall, skinny, strange, spindly moustachioed, fop of a man with excessively pointy incisors. He was dressed in a garish wide green diamond check suit; he sported a pair of gold framed spectacles, wore expensive looking snake skin shoes and twirled a bone handled walking stick. He seemed of uncertain years and even more uncertain character. '
This paragraph marks the introduction of Mr Charalambus.
The first question I and many other writers are asked is always a derivation of ‘..how do you think up the story?’ When I am asked I say it was the name. It is a friend’s surname, spelled slightly differently but essentially the same. I just love it. It is the greatest name I know. It just rolls around the tongue like warm honey. Sweet and aromatic with just a hint of bitterness like an oak aged malt whisky. It catches the back of the throat. It is mysterious and enigmatic with the kick of a mule. Once I decided to use it the character came, almost fully formed. The story was the easy part.