Just sign here …and your name is?
There was a time when a blank sheet of paper really scared me. I
honestly believed I’d never be able to fill a sheet of A4 with words. But I had
to try. In actually fact it took me a whole afternoon to write two hundred and
fifty words on my old Underwood typewriter and not one sentence came from my
imagination. Even so it gave me a terrible headache. What I had written was
what I’ve heard so many beginners say when they’ve read their masterpieces out
at our writers’ club in Crosby. “It was all true!” It’s as if they thought that
what they had written was so incredible that those listening might believe it
was rubbish.
It took a while for me to draw on my imagination and at first I only did
so because I seemed to have been given permission by the editor of the magazine
I was writing articles for at the time. It gave me an overwhelming sense of
freedom not only to discover I could make things up and embroider factual
events but that fiction has a heck of a lot of factual events weaved into a
novel. Which is good because although my
eldest son does some of my research, I used to do all of it myself in the
beginning and even now I enjoy doing some as well.
It seems a long time ago now since I did my very first talk. I remember
standing in front of a group of people with my heart beating like a drum and
feeling weak at the knees. I had never talked much about myself and my writing
and I was worried about boring those gazing up at me waiting to hear what I had
to say. These days I’ve done enough talking to enjoy sharing my love of writing
and how I came to write my books not to worry about my listeners getting fed up
of the sound of my voice. Even when some fall asleep before my very eyes.
My very first signing session had a similar effect on me except my fear
was that no one would turn up. I would be left sitting there at a table in a
bookshop and the bookseller and the publisher’s rep would decide it was a waste
of time to promote me as no one wanted to meet me or read my book. I do
remember being absolutely thrilled when the rep picked me up at my front door
to take me on a tour of several Liverpool bookshops and stores. Some booklovers
of a similar age to myself or even those in their forties will remember
Wilson’s bookshop on Renshaw Street and Philip, Son and Nephew’s in
Whitechapel. Today’s supermarkets had nothing on those booklovers’ havens. They
had such character and I grief their demise. Having said that when W.H. SMITH’S
took over the old Cooper’s building on Church Street it was a great place to
visit for any dedicated booklover. How I miss that building!
Although sometimes I would just go and sign stock in a back room, there
were occasions when I also sat at a table near the entrance. Just before Mother’s Day one year. I’ll never forget a
man coming and buying a book for his mother. He returned twenty minutes later
and bought another for his mother-in-law, saying to me, “I’m making you rich.”
If only he knew what percentage an author gets of the published price he would
have done a double-take and realised I’d have to sell a heck of a lot of books
to become rich.
I remember the arrival of Dillon’s on Bold Street, I recall sitting in a
corner by the staircase waiting for someone to notice me and buy one of my
books, not ask me where they would find Maps. Not long after Waterstone’s made
an appearance further up Bold Street, except it had pillars either side of the
entrance.
In those days I remember even signing books in newsagents, one being in
Central station’s precinct and another in Crosby village.
My nearest bookshop is in Crosby, for those that don’t know the village
it is about 5 miles from Liverpool to the north. I have spent many a happy hour
in Steve Pritchard’s bookshop there. In the beginning way back in the 1990s the
Crosby Herald used to print a BOOKSHELF compiling the top ten best selling
books in Crosby. I still have the cuttings when my earlier books were at number
one.
Steve also had another shop and that was in Formby village a bit further
north, nearer the coast. I remember my first visit to that Pritchard’s where
Tony Higginson was the manager and how warmly I was welcomed. I have a
photograph of me sitting outside in front of a window display of FLOWERS ON THE
MERSEY. Tony still gives me a warm
welcome, although Pritchard’s in Formby has gone and Tony is now the owner of
Formby Books situated in The Cloisters, near Marks & Spencer’s.
This Saturday I will be visiting both Pritchard’s, Crosby, and Formby
Books. Between 11-12 I will be at Formby
Books signing copies of A MOTHER’S DUTY
and at 1-2pm I will be at Pritchard’s in Crosby. Do come and say hello
if you can. Love June.
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