The End of the Story...by Sheila Claydon

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Writing a book is a mix of things: a hard slog, moments of elation, moments of recognition even, and of course a lot of staring at a blank screen. A writer's mood can swing from depression to excitement from one sentence to the next. And then, when the last i is dotted and the last t is crossed, there is the editing. The acknowledgement that the section in chapter ten that seemed just right, no longer works. Nor does the timeline in chapter twelve. What has been missed out? What has been forgotten?

Once all that has been rectified to the writer's satisfaction, and all names and dates checked and double checked (yes, I did accidentally change the name of the heroine for a couple of chapters in one book, which would not have been a good look if the mistake had gone to print!) then it is the turn of the publishing editor, who will inevitably find a whole lot of other things that need attention.

While all that is going on there are a couple of other things that is very important indeed. The title. The cover image and the blurb (the short description that will hopefully persuade a browsing reader to buy the book).

This can be both the best and worst of times. The blurb cannot be too long but nor must it leave out the kernel of the story. The cover image must fit with the most up-to-date publishing style while at the same time show what the story is about, and finally the title. This can be the most tricky thing of all. Does the writer use the name of one of the characters, as I did in the first two books of the Mapleby Memories series, or is it better to find another link within the story.

It took me quite a while to find a title for my latest book (due out in April) and in the end it wasn't really me who found it, but my teenage granddaughter! She was staying with me for a few days and we were discussing her English homework and, because she naturally has a very quirky way of looking at things, she was explaining to me how once, when she was given a topic to write about, with a title, she was almost at the end before she realised she hadn't tied it to the title at all. What did she do? She wrote a final paragraph cramming everything in and, believe it or not, got good marks!

I didn't do that of course but it really made me think. Was there something that had featured throughout the book that could be used in the title? I re-read the whole thing and realised that there was. The moon!  Because the story stretches across the centuries the events that took place were observed by many a moon. I had the title. Many a Moon not only trips off the tongue, it is quite a memorable phrase and, when I re-read the story I realised I had indeed used a moonlit image quite frequently. Admittedly I did copy my granddaughter a tiny bit by inserting a couple of extra moons, but only two, and then the book was complete.

In April readers will be able to discover what the moon saw. Until then I have one final edit and then Many a Moon: Mapleby Memories Book 3, the final book of the trilogy will be published, with a cover, a blurb and a title I really like. I hope readers do too. 

Knights Loaf, Cheat Bread, Maslin: what's in a name?...by Sheila Claydon

 

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So let me introduce you to one of the main characters in my next book. Old Mill!

Hidden away in woodland on the edge of a golf course, it has stood four-square for more than 600 years. Its roof fell in long ago. Its water wheel has disappeared, and so, more bizarrely, has the tumbling river that turned it. If it wasn't for the blue placque beside what was once a door, you wouldn't know it had ever been a mill. A best guess would have been a tumbledown shack a couple of hundred years old. 

Because I wanted to use it as the basis for my next book, the third one in my Mapleby Mysteries trilogy, I needed to find out more about it, however, and goodness me I've been amazed. Not about the old mill itself but about medieval mills in general and medieval life in particular.

For example, I learned that the same as a church, there was a mill in every medieval village, usually owned by the lord of the manor but operated by a miller. The miller was always better off than most of the peasant farmers who used the mill. This was because everyone needed their corn, rye, oats and barley milled, ground into flour and made into bread, so he (it was always a he) was never out of work. Many millers also made bread from the peasants own flour and then charged them for it. The peasants also had to pay the feudal lord banalities (small fees) for the use of the mill, so no wonder they were always poor.

The miller, who often had a baking house next to the mill, made as many as 20 different types of bread, most of which had names unusual to today's ears. There was the Knights loaf, the Popes loaf, Maslin, which was a mix of wheat and rye, and Manchets and Pandemain. Manchets were large rolls and loaves of white bread, while Pandemain  was the loaf preferred by the lord of the manor and his wealthy friends and relatives. Both of these were made from finely ground and sifted wheat flour, while their poorer cousin was Wastel,  a white bread made from flour that had been less carefully sieved. 

There was also Cheat bread, made from wheat flour that had the worst of the bran removed, and horse bread, which was made from a mix of cereals, pulses, bran and acorns.This was originally made for horses but many of the poorest people had no choice but to eat it to keep themselves alive, especially in times of famine. And that was another thing I learned. There was often famine, or flooding, and living in medieval times was very, very hard. 

There was no such thing as rest either . Millers and peasants alike toiled from dawn to dusk, working to the seasons. Everything from planting to ploughing, sowing and harvesting, scaring the birds (done mostly by children) pruning and weeding, and even fertilising the fields, had to be done in the correct season, the same as shearing and butchering. And all this was done  alongside basket making, weaving, animal husbandry, collecting  eggs and nuts and berries, preserving food by salting and smoking, digging ditches to protect the fields from flooding, and of course collecting wood to repair their own houses and tools and keep them warm in the winter. No electricity, no glass in the windows of their one roomed huts or cruck houses, where everyone, including the animals, slept together around a central fire in the winter both for warmth and as protection from the wild animals that roamed the fields at night. No wonder life was short and brutish. No wonder more babies died than lived. 

Of course I won't put all of this into my book because there is nothing more boring than reading too much detail about a particular activity, so the skill of the writer is to give just enough to inform and not a single word more.However, for realism, I'm going to have to convey the poverty and dirt of those times while somehow making the medieval protagonists attractive enough to intrigue the modern day reader. I've also got to come up with a title. The first two books in the trilogy are Remembering Rose and Loving Ellen, so to go with the flow I need to find something short that goes with Sophie, the heroine. I'm still working on that but when I've found it, I'll let you know.