Tag Archives: Guernsey

Being Compared to a Best Seller ~ A Double Edged Sword

In the last few months I’ve joined The Sarnia literacy Society on Facebook and have enjoyed talking about such books as Ebenezer le Page, a delightful story written like memoirs of an elderly gentleman and his life on Guernsey. Apart from getting lost occasionally in a plethora of friends and relations, I found the book truly delightful and an insight into what life on Guernsey was really like in the last century. I laughed and cried and I oood and ahhed alongside old ELP and I certainly missed him when I’d finally finished the book.

In the last couple of days, though, I had an ‘ouch’ moment when I turned to the site and read the comments on ‘The Guernsey Lteracy and Potato Pie Society.’ Wow! Isn’t this book still stirring emotions and on this Facebook page I read only negative opinions. The contrast between these and the gushing comments to dear old E le P were stark and I respect every point I read.

What are my feelings about the book though? I agree that it was badly researched; the people were not true Guernsey; names were incorrectly spelt and places unrecognisable. In fact, they were rarely described in detail, not surprisingly since the author had barely visited the island but did her research remotely.

To her defence here, she was obviously so moved by the island that she began her research. Sometimes it happens like that to an author. An idea takes you and you just have to write.

On the other hand the novel has sold millions worldwide. Why? It was witty and gritty; it used well-known facts about life on Guernsey during World War Two and embellished them into a storyline which was easy to read and many of the characters warm and likeable; it was a great holiday read; there’s still a lot of interest in reading about the war…..I could go on. Or was it just luck, an incredible marketing campaign or the amusing, memorable title that did it? We shall never know.

And now here’s the rub! The Historical Novel Society when reviewing my first novel Riduna compared it favourably to this very book saying that anyone who enjoyed The GLPPS would love Riduna too! I was proud of being compared to this best seller. I decided to put the quote on the blurb for ‘Riduna’ when I asked for the rights back from the original publisher and relaunched Riduna last year alongside my second novel Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Here’s where I am going to hold my hand up and be honest and constructive in my comparisons.

Firstly I wasn’t born on either island but my reasons for writing both novels did initially stem from my interest in my family history. My great-grandmother was born and lived on Alderney until the age of 15 when she was shipped to Guernsey. She later married my great- grandfather a Guernseyman. The more I researched about life on the islands in Victorian times, the more the shape of a novel unfolded before me. I found that my love of the islands as a child, rekindled on visiting several times as an adult, enhanced the more I read into the history. It was tantalising though in the details of social history left out of the history books and guide books and so I too was guilty of fabricating what I did not know. The characters seemed to live, work and develop though, in my head. I felt I had little control over them. I made mistakes too! A couple I felt very embarrassed about and wondered how I’d missed them once the novel was in print.

Researching for Ancasta has been very different. Instead of pouring over books and filling in the gaps with my imagination, I did that too, but I also approached experts who were so enthusiastic about their individual subjects that they checked relevant chapters for me and gave me valuable feedback. The reaching out to people, both on the islands and here on the mainland was a wonderful experience I will treasure and learn from.

Thus, when I relaunched Riduna I was able to make amends, reread it with new insight and polish it up a bit…after all, even with the help of the editorial services of my initial publisher it was still my first novel.

So, if you are an islander and happen to read Riduna or Ancasta, or a reader from anywhere in the world, I really don’t mind you being critical, as long as you do it kindly:-)

Any feedback gratefully received

diana@dianamaryjackson.co.uk

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Filed under Ancasta, Book reviews, Research, Riduna, Writing a novel

Aurigny and Joey!

Joey

Although flying boats or sea planes to Guernsey, Jersey and Alderney are a thing of the past and you can now fly with the larger low cost airline Flybe to Guernsey and Jersey, there’s nothing like flying in one of the Aurigny Trilanders, either between Southampton and the islands or as an interisland hop.

If you are taking a flight between islands it is a trip of full pleasure as you are likely to enjoy the sights of the  smaller islands of Herm, Sark, Jethou and Brecqhou beneath you during your short fifteen minute hop.

Guernsey and Jersey have lovely new airports now, unlike the one described by the novelist of The Guernsey Potato Peel Pie Literacy Society on her visit there several years back. They are spacious with pleasant facilities and there is an air of calm which you’d be hard pressed to find at Gatwick, Heathrow or even Luton. Southampton is similar. On reaching the Check in at Southampton airport I cannot help but grin with anticipation, especially if it is a bright day. I will soon be on my way and I can relax in their departures lounge and wait patiently for the flight. (Of course if fog descends it can be a different story)

My excitement is tenfold if I am flying with Aurigny to Alderney. Joey, as the Trilander is affectionately called waits outside the Gate,  yellow and welcoming, overshadowed by the larger Flybe aeroplane by its side; a friendly puffin decorating its wing.

You are personally directed to your seat and once settled the pilot turns round to welcome you and to remind you to fasten your seat belts. You often fly across Southampton Water, watching cruise liners leave the port below and passing over what remains of The Royal Victoria Hospital, the largest in the world in its heyday, then Calshot Castle and Calshot Spit, after which the familiar shape of The Isle of Wight and the Needles fill your horizon. Then twenty minutes fly quickly by (sorry about that!) until you catch sight of Alderney, when my husband invariably gets nudged in the ribs in my excitement.

There is a proper runway now. The first time I flew to Alderney in a little Islander there was only grass and a small shed to welcome you. In those days you had to be weighed in order for the plane to be balanced and I even sat next to the pilot on one occasion.

The airport building today is still only a small hut, in comparison to Alderney’s sister islands, but there is a friendly cafe, welcoming staff and plenty of room to sit. In fact, Aurigny has a service I know of in no other place that, if there happens to be a sea fog and your flight is delayed, they will ring you at your hotel or guest house and ask you to stay put for a while.  When it’s clear they will give you another call and, since the island is so small, the journey to and from the airport only takes a few minutes and you still arrive in plenty of time for the plane.

In fact, I consider a flight with Aurigny the start of the holiday rather than just part of the journey to my destination.

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Filed under Alderney, Channel Islands, Early Flight, Flying Boats and Sea Planes, Southampton

The pleasures of camping

The next two blogs are inspired by our last weekend away camping in Dorset. We were staying at a lovely secluded campsite near Corfe Castle. Now I don’t know whether Him up there has a sense of humour when he knows we’re just about to spend a few nights under canvas but just before we leave, when we’re packing the car up to overflowing, there’s usually weather warning of gale force winds. Last August in we arrived at a beautiful little campsite in the Cornish sunshine. Not fooled by the lovely day we’d listened to the weather forecast and mentioned the severe storms expected when we booked in.  

‘Oh, I haven’t heard anything like that,’ smiled the proprietor as he showed us to our pitch. half an hour later when we were mid construction, usually a time when tempers fray, he returned on his sit on mower laughing, ‘You were right. I’ve just been speaking to the Coast Guard. You’d better tighten your guy ropes. We’re in for a stormy night.’

There are times when we’ve even headed for the B & B for the first night to wait until it improves. A couple of years ago in Devon we did just that and stayed on the edge of Brixham. The following morning we were debating what the weather was going to do since it was still pouring with rain, so we asked if the B & B had a bed for that night too.

 ‘No problem,’ the cheerful lady had replied and so we booked for another night.

‘You can turn the water hoses off the roof now that they’ve booked in again,’ called out one of the other regular guests. Everyone laughed.

Don’t get me wrong. Once the tent is up then it’s quite enjoyable listening to the rain pattering down as you try to sleep. In fact a gentle rain while camping can be quite soporific. I never sleep more deeply than I do under canvas. I don’t know whether it’s all that fresh air or the sound of the birds in the morning, but I seem to be able to leave any worries or stress far behind and truly relax.

This time in Dorset the first night was fine.  It was the following day when the heavens opened up. We only had our little tent with us. If we’d had room to sit it out then we may not have been tempted by a night at The Pines Hotel in Swanage. It felt amazingly naughty to look out  smugly on the wind and rain which lashed against out hotel room window. Then there was the treat of a wonderful supper and a comfortable bed to snuggle up in. The following morning the sun was shining again, so much so that after eating a hearty breakfast we could not wait to get back to our tent.  

As we turned the corner and saw our little blue home still sturdy and holding firm, we felt a twinge of guilt for our nights’ extravagance. That night I had the best night’s sleep i’ve had in years. Strange isn’t it.

As far as the weather, the one and only holiday camping when it was dry and sunny for the majority of the fortnight’s holiday was on Guernsey. I rest my case!

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