On Saturday I went along to Formby Books to do a signing. Fortunately
Tonythebook (Higginson) had some of my books in stock because the order he had
put in two days before, including my latest book, had not arrived. These things
happen as many a novelist will tell you. The lovely Jane Costello was also
there to meet fans and sign copies of her novels. I had met Jane when she came
to talk to the North West Chapter of the
RNA a couple of years ago. Her latest book is called THE TIME OF OUR LIVES and
in brief is about a group of girlfriends going on holiday abroad where all
sorts of mishaps happen. Unlike my books it is set in modern times.
https://www.facebook.com/june.francis1?fref=ufi This link will take you to some photographs.
https://www.facebook.com/june.francis1?fref=ufi This link will take you to some photographs.
The highlight of the hour for
me was when someone asked, ‘Is June Francis here?’ The lady asking was called
Elsie and her family used to live in the street where I grew up off Whitefield
Road in Anfield. She had seen the board outside Formby Books advertising that I
would be there between 11-12. When she told her mother, another Elsie Clarke,
aged 88, who still lives in Liverpool, she was given her orders to go and buy a
signed copy of one of my books and make herself known. She had brought
photographs of her mum and other members of the family. It was a real thrill, knowing
that she and her mother remembered our family so well, especially my mother and
brother, Don, and me. She took a photo of me for her mum and we exchanged email
addresses.
Several members of Formby
Writers’ Group came along to chat, ask writing advice and bought some of my
books. One of them, David, had asked me to read his manuscript several years
ago and I’m pleased to say the book about his Irish childhood and growing years
made it into print in the US of A.
I must admit that talking of
years gone by and being in a bookshop made me come over all nostalgic. I
remember clearly my father first taking me to choose my birthday present - I
think - it was my tenth birthday. I wanted a book but there were no bookshops
nearby, so we visited the post office on Breck Road, the one near Belmont Road
for those who might remember it.
The books were all hardback
and kept in a locked glass fronted cabinet. It was such a thrill getting my
hands on the latest Famous Five book by Enid Blyton. Although I visited the
local library every week, it was tremendously difficult borrowing a copy of
Enid Blyton’s books because they were incredibly popular and never on the
shelves.
We had very few books in our
house because there just wasn’t money to spare for such luxury items. My father
had just one or two to do with art and sigh-writing and, of course, we had the
family Bible that I think had been my grandfather Nelson’s. My eldest brother,
Ron, possessed a book of WW2 spy stories, one on ju-jitsu and a copy of CORAL
ISLAND. I think it was my brother Don, who had the TARZAN books. I sneaked them
from their rooms because I was so greedy for reading material. I also read
their comics: The Hotspur, The Wizard, The Dandy, The Beano, Radio Fun and
Film Fun. But I also read School
Friend and occasionally Girls’ Chrystal and The Girl.
The year I was given my very
first book, Dad bought me another for Christmas which again I was able to
choose for myself from the Post Office’s locked cabinet. Of course, it was another
Enid Blyton but one of the Adventure series with Jack and his parrot Kiki and
sidekicks.
Such books were so valued not
only because I so love reading to learn and for escapism, but because my father
would have had to save up to buy those books for me.
Those visits to the post
office became a twice yearly event which I looked forward to for months on end.
When I was about fifteen I cadged an old orange box from the local greengrocer
and painted it blue and used it as a bookcase. By then I had my own very
limited library enlarged by the DAILY MAIL ANNUAL and SCHOOL FRIEND ANNUAL
which my Aunt Flo and Uncle Bill, and Mam used to buy me at Christmas. I learnt
the names of the planets from the DAILY MAIL ANNUAL, as well as the words to The
Twelve Days of Christmas.
I never went inside
a real bookshop until I started work and earned my own money. Working in
Liverpool city centre I used to go out for a walk at lunch time and not far
away was Wilson’s bookshop on Renshaw Street. The other bookshop I loved was
Phillip, Son and Nephew’s in White Chapel. I would visit these shops and the
book departments in big stores such as Blackler’s and Lewis’s, as well as
W.H.Smith’s.
Alas, not only have the best
two bookshops in Liverpool closed down but so have Blackler’s and Lewis’s. As
for W.H.Smith’s, it went and moved from the lovely building in Church Street
where I used to do signings of my own books to the one in Liverpool One, which
for me will never match up to its former home in Liverpool.
On Tuesday by special
request I visited Formby Books again. As it was a lovely sunny Spring morning,
I sat outside the shop behind a table containing my books which had at last
arrived and chattered to fans of my books and passers-by and sold quite a few
books. This really is the way to do it, I thought.
Alas, independent bookshops
are getting fewer and fewer. The internet might have put us in touch with a
larger market so we have more choice and e-readers do have certain advantages
over paper books but they lack the wonder and magic I found as a child in
public libraries, the old post office and our independent bookshops. It’s the
same with supermarkets, books might be cheaper there but they don’t have the
range that the independent have, mainly just bestsellers. Neither would I think
of asking the staff for advice and to recommend a book. I know time can’t stand
still - thank goodness or the working classes might never have the opportunity
to learn to read - most of my great-great grandparents certainly couldn’t read
or write - and there’s much I love about the new technology but there are some
things that I will always feel nostalgic for and I don’t think I’m alone.
