Forget Clarkson, what #TopGear really couldn’t survive without is the theme tune.

It suddenly struck me, as my son was watching episodes of Top Gear that we have recorded from BBC3, that if Clarkson, Hammond and May go on to produce this spin-off car show, it won’t have the proper theme tune.
Now, I firmly believe that Top Gear can carry on perfectly happily without Jeremy. But the music? Forget it.
This realisation forced me to consider the importance of the theme tune to the success of a television programme. I wrote a blog recently about the ITV drama Home Fires. Whilst researching it, I was surprised by the amount of viewers who had commented on the choral score which accompanies the series. The music has been resoundingly popular and really makes the whole piece special.
The tune which book-ends the production shouldn’t make a significant difference to a programme, but somehow it really does. It’s one of the reasons why viewers get so annoyed with the ubiquitous trailers that interrupt the end credits.
So, here are some of my favourite theme tunes, without which, the programme just wouldn’t be the same:

Inspector Morse
I love this detective drama. The writing, acting and direction are superb and yet, without Barrington Pheloung’s score, which even included the piece of ‘Morse code’ at the start, it just wouldn’t have been the same.

Cagney and Lacey
I was too young to watch this gritty New York cop show when it first came out and had to go straight to bed after the theme tune, which is probably why it is so evocative for me! But I’ve watched all the re-runs since and although Tyne Daley and Sharon Gless absolutely owned the series with their terrific performances, it’s still that music which resonates with me.

The Onedin Line
Now, I really am too young for this, but I still know the theme tune and it sends a shiver down my spine whenever I hear it, which is exactly the effect I’m talking about.

Blackadder (Series 2-4)
The less said about series 1 the better, but the theme tune for the rest of the outings somehow fitted Curtis and Elton’s comedy perfectly. I loved the way the theme was modified to fit the historical period of each different series and the musical interpretation for the last series, ‘Blackadder Goes Forth’, was inspired. But who could ever forget that haunting final sequence, when the soldiers go over the top? Showing that sometimes, silence can be the most powerful accompaniment of all…

Perhaps because it was the decade of my television watching youth, the eighties seemed to be jam packed full of memorable themes from the ‘A’ Team and ‘Chips’ through to ‘Dallas’, ‘Dynasty’ and ‘Howard’s Way’. I’m sure there are many more. in several of these cases, the music was far greater than the programme itself! But I stick by my theory, unscientific as it is, that if you take a great theme tune away from a good show, it will seriously struggle to survive.

Can a drama get away with anything if it’s historical?

In the week in which The Sun newspaper suggested that the use of topless photographs in their papers was a thing of the past and then triumphantly backtracked, in what we can only assume was an unpleasant publicity stunt, I was quite startled by certain aspects of BBC2’s new drama, Wolf Hall, which I watched on iplayer last evening. The drama is based on the Booker Prize winning novels about the rise and fall of Thomas Cromwell by Hilary Mantel. The production values are quite remarkable and the acting superb. However, there was an element of the programme which made me feel uncomfortable.
I was a History Teacher for a long while and I’ve taught the Tudor period at A-level a good few times, so the details of Henry VIII’s attempts to gain an annulment of his first marriage to Catherine of Aragon are familiar to me, as I’m sure it is to many others too. It’s general knowledge. The difference in Mantel’s story is how she concentrates on the roles of Cromwell, Wolsey and More. We get to know about their families and the behind-the-scenes power struggles at court. But one should remember that this is still fiction. We do not know that these conversations actually took place, we should bear in mind that this dialogue is created by Mantel’s literary licence.
So, I was a little perturbed to hear Cromwell and Cardinal Wolsey making jokes about Anne Boleyn being ‘flat-chested’ and indicating their surprise that the king had turned his attentions to her. Indeed, later in the episode, Thomas Cromwell makes a lewd reference to the same thing with Anne’s own sister, Mary, who laughs heartily at his witticism.
I’m sure that Mantel based this observation on evidence she found in contemporary letters and accounts, but is it strictly necessary or appropriate to make it part of the drama? I’ve taught the Tudors for many years without finding the need to mention that Anne Boleyn’s breasts were small. There are a number of reasons why I would not have done. Firstly, because it could never be proved to be correct. The rumour could easily have been spread by her enemies in an effort to degrade, belittle and demean her. To me, the poor woman had had her head chopped off on the orders of her husband, which must surely be demeaning enough. Secondly, I would never say something disparaging about the size of a woman’s breasts in front of a class of students because it would result in the girls feeling incredibly uncomfortable and self-conscious and the boys getting the wrong idea about how they should view women. It’s a teaching no-brainer.
So is it acceptable in a historical drama? I actually think it isn’t. When looking at events that happened as long ago as the 16th Century there is arguably no such thing as ‘historical fact’. As writers, we will always be placing our own interpretations on the piece and actually, we cannot forget the modern audience and how the work will impact upon them. I’m not a great believer in censorship but in making a judgement about what is in good or bad taste and how it will be received by a modern, literate, intelligent audience. All writers must consider this when they put pen to paper.
Later in the episode, there was a particularly nasty, violent assault on a young boy. Again, this is something that even the most hard-core of detective dramas would shy away from depicting on screen. So because it’s historical and dare I say it, ‘intellectual’, that means it’s alright?
I think that ultimately, it’s a question of judgement by the writers and the director as to what is appropriate. But I would suggest that even if your topic is embedded within the culture of the past, your audience are most definitely not, and you should approach delicate issues accordingly.

Great writing is something you can’t put your finger on

As writers, we spend a lot of time considering what makes good writing. We read and re-read our prose to ensure that we’ve got it just right. But every so often, we are reminded that discerning a truly great piece of work defies a neat explanation. They possess a certain quality that we can’t quite put our finger on.

I have been reviewing a number of new TV crime dramas recently. The programmes I have watched have all been entertaining and well written, even if they haven’t always appealed to me in every respect. But whilst watching an old Inspector Morse episode on ITV3 I was suddenly reminded of what great crime drama can be like. It’s a perfect storm of excellent script, acting and direction. But it is also something more. The story will strike you as totally believable and the characters as real as you or I.

If someone were to ask me what creates a special piece of work such as this I would be hard pressed to give an answer. But it’s one of those things that you certainly recognise when you see it. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You’d happily watch or read it again and again. The experience would always move you.

This is what us writers aspire to achieve. But perhaps we shouldn’t, because producing a great novel, short story or script requires an element that we can’t always put our finger on. All we can hope as authors and scriptwriters is that one day we will manage to harness it.

#TheMissing may just restore my faith in BBC crime dramas

If you made it through that traumatic first episode, then you’re going to be able to enjoy the rest of this brilliantly acted and superbly written series. I approached the second instalment with a mixture of anticipation and dread, but it was much easier to watch. I’d put in the hard yards last week and now I would be rewarded.
I’m not a knee-jerk fan of James Nesbitt. Some of his work I like, some I don’t, but his acting in The Missing is undeniably excellent. His progress from the intial responses of confusion, fear and grief, into a steadily evolving sense of determination and cynicism are very well portrayed. The man has studied French in order to tirelessly examine the reports of his son’s case. He has learnt over the eight years since young Oliver Hughes’ disappearance in a small French town to trust no one except himself. We already feel as if we’ve travelled on that terrible journey along with him.
At this early stage, I sense the series will have its critics. At eight episodes long, there will be those who accuse it of being ‘slow-moving’. Yes, this may be one way of looking at it, but to me, it is building believable characters and allowing us to accept that eight years really have passed between the two time frames in which the narrative is set. The story deserves this period of time in which to properly develop. There are many strands to the investigation and many ways in which the case has affected the lives of those touched by the tragedy. We want to know why Tony’s wife left him and what he and his father-in-law did so long ago that may have caused someone to take revenge upon them.
Let’s face it, I’m already well and truly hooked. I like the way Tony is taking on the role of amateur sleuth with his reliable side-kick, the retired ace French detective. We don’t know yet who we can trust outside of these two characters and I suspect there are a myriad of twists and turns still to come.
At first, I thought ‘The Missing’ would simply be visual and audio torture for parents of the under-tens, but I am coping with it remarkably well. Of course, there are the obvious parallels with the McCann case. But this is fiction, and it is sympathetic and human. There is nothing exploitative about the series. Which is why I believe it may just restore my faith in BBC crime drama. There is no unnecessary gratuitous violence, the tragic story speaks for itself – no unpleasant tricks and shocks to get me back next week, simply an excellent, detailed, spohisticated plot with likeable characters and great acting. More of this please, BBC, and I might be tempted back…

Bed is for books, not the telly.

Watching property programmes is a guilty pleasure for my daughter and me. We particularly enjoy the BBC stalwart, ‘Escape to the Country’. Presenter Jules Hudson is a favourite of ours, we like his country gent manners and the way he deals with the most picky and grasping couples with an effortless and disarming charm. But what we are most interested in is having a nosy around the houses of others. It’s endlessly fascinating for us. I find it also gives me a great insight into current lifestyle trends, which then helps to inform my writing (that’s my excuse anyway).
What always strikes me on these programmes, is that whenever the couple is taken into the ‘Master Suite’, be it in a modern property or a quirky little thatched cottage, more often then not, the room’s dominant feature is a huge flat screen television, taking pride of place in the centre of one wall. It never fails to surprise me, and to jar somewhat. For me, bedrooms are for dim lighting, a bedside table full of paperbacks and, just possibly – in the bathroom perhaps, a small transistor radio.
Old fashioned? Of course. But I simply can’t see how television fits in. Do you lie in bed and watch it? Surely that would wake the kids? It might be switched on in the morning whilst you perform your pre-breakfast ablutions, but again, this is something for the kitchen maybe and personally, I prefer the radio at this time of the day anyhow, as you can carry on with other tasks without missing anything.
You may think these observations are intellectual elitism or snobbery. I can assure you they are not. I love my T.V and I’m certainly not snobbish about the programmes I watch. But the telly is for living rooms, or snugs. Places with sofas and coffee tables upon which the Radio Times can be rested. Then, when it’s time for bed, as you tromp up the stairs with a glass of water in your hand, you enter a whole other domain; the place where you can escape into the pages of a great book. It is a totally different experience and one which lulls you into the conditions necessary for sleep (unless you are gripped by a particularly good page-turner of course). I would not wish to lose this important division between day and night. The blurring of the boundaries would unsettle me. Telly is entertainment that comes at you with bangs and flashes and bursts of stirring music. Books are a quiet, even silent pleasure, where all you can hear are the nocturnal noises outside your bedroom window, the odd jet plane passing over high above, as you make the transition into a world which comprises solely of your own thoughts and dreams.
Better than the telly any day, I’d say.

How small publishers and independents should prepare for Christmas

As I am now a small retailer, having been up and running for over a couple of years, I know that Christmas is a crucial selling time and I need to be fully prepared for it.
First and foremost, I am a writer and an editor. Fine. That declaration is out of the way. But, I design and publish my own books so it is essential that I adopt a pretty good business head too.

The busiest season for ebook downloads tends to fall over the summer months and some independent author/publishers may have felt the sting of lower paperback and hardback sales as a result. Don’t worry. This is a perfectly natural pattern and will only become more pronounced as the ebook market continues to grow, as it inevitably will. This phenomenon is a good thing for independents. We are blissfully free of pen-pushing middle-men and can keep our ebook prices down accordingly.
All this being said, we authors do love our print books. I don’t feel as if I’ve really written a book until I’ve held the physical copy in my hands. But never fear, the run up to Christmas always marks a resurgence in print book sales and small publishers need to be ready to take it on.
If your books only appear in ebook format then I would recommend looking into producing hard copies for the festive season. Consumers are buying for gifts- so they need a solid product to wrap and put under the tree! Createspace is always a great option here and the end product – with the correct design and input on your part – is absolutely terrific. Their books are produced to an extremely high standard and have the obvious benefits of being P.O.D.
For me, I will be spending the next couple of weeks ensuring that my print books are in tip top order for the Christmas rush. I will check the formatting and the covers to make sure they are absolutely perfect. I may even consider producing a new set of covers especially to appeal to Christmas buyers. Boxed sets may be another idea, where this is possible.
Indies be aware that now you are proper retailers, the Christmas season has to be taken deadly seriously. Get your product polished up and ready and price it to sell. A new book release in the weeks before Christmas also makes commercial sense, but you need to leave long enough after going live for the word to get out and for people to order and receive your book well before the 25th December, otherwise it will defeat the point!
There will be local fayres and shopping evenings that you could get involved in too. Pop up shops in businesses and pubs/restaurants are becoming increasingly popular, so that busy workers can get a chance to purchase some unique gifts during their lunch hour. You will need a healthy supply of books in preparation for this. Signed copies make superb gifts and if you can slip a well designed and striking business card between the pages then your customers may well go on line to order more from the series in future.
There are plenty of opportunities out there to reach your readers during this quarter of the year so don’t miss out on it. Be prepared, and you will definitely see a boost in sales.

A delve into your dusty DVD collection can unearth unexpected treats

I had pretty much had enough. I’m not a sports fan. I realise that the weather is fantastic and it shouldn’t matter that there’s nothing for me to watch on television at the moment, but actually, it really does. After a long day of activity – entertaining the kids on their summer break – I like to relax with an absorbing and enjoyable piece of drama on T.V. So, as none of the channels can presently oblige my needs, I have begun to delve into my old DVD collection. There are some great boxed sets in there that I haven’t watched in years. This week I alighted upon the full six series of Prime Suspect which ran from the early 1990s. I’ve watched them all, of course, but I felt it was long enough ago that I might get some pleasure out of returning to them once more. I was right.
Starting with the second instalment, being still fairly familiar with the first iconic series which had introduced the fabulous Helen Mirren as DCI Jane Tennison, I quickly remembered why this series of crime stories had become such a classic. The plot was ground-breaking in many respects, highlighting the endemic sexism and racism which existed within the Metropolitan Police during that time. The writing, acting and direction are superb and although slow-moving in places, it is the attention to detail and procedure in Prime Suspect which spawned a mass industry of copy-cat television programmes and crime novels.
But what really grabbed my attention in the re-watching of this second series was the use of the clay modelling technique to recreate the head of the victim, Joanna Fagunwa, from the remains of her skull. I found this fascinitating and haunting when I first watched the programme back in my teens as it was the first time this method had ever been used in a British crime drama. Of course, it has now become part and parcel of the forensic drama’s repertoire of techniques. In Prime Suspect 2, it had been unique and watching it again, it had the same mesmerising effect on me as it did all those years ago. Perhaps more so, because now, I recognised the face that had been sculpted out of the clay. The beautiful features were quite clearly those of the British actress Nina Sosanya, who has been seen most recently in the BBC2 comedy W1A, with Hugh Bonneville. I have enjoyed her work over the years, especially in the Channel Four series Teachers, but I never realised that her first television role had been to play the beautiful and elusive seventeen year old Joanne, whose fate had such terrible repurcussions for all those who had loved her, and for the investigative team setting out to discover who was responisble for her death.
I am waiting eagerly for the new season of dramas to begin on T.V, so that normal service can be resumed. But in the meantime, I will keep digging into that old DVD pile, hoping to root out yet another evocative, long-hidden gem.

Do you remember the first book you read all by yourself?

We have reached something of a milestone in our household. My youngest has just begun reading on his own. He is six years old and has been reading per se for a while now, but this week has been the first time he has picked up a paperback book and asked to read it independently at bedtime.
It is an event which is tinged with some sadness for us poor parents. For the first time in nine and a quarter years (the age of my older daughter), we may no longer be required to perform the ritual of the bedtime story. Part of me rejoices in this idea – now I can make dinner for my husband and I in peace!! But another chunk is wistful. It is a wonderful thing to snuggle up with your child at the end of the day and get to read out all those fabulous kids books that you loved during your own childhood. And all the great new ones too. You can get away with putting on all the silly voices and trying to inject as much drama into the story as possible and your audience will always be listening with rapt interest, hanging onto your every word.
Where else in life can you experience such a thing? Certainly not in my career as a secondary school teacher, that’s for sure! By that age, if you put on a funny voice, most kids just think you’ve lost your marbles.
On the other hand, the time has come to move on. For my son, he is ready to experience the untold joys of getting lost in the pages of a good book. It is a pleasure that is priceless. My little boy tends to prefer factual books and my daughter loves comedic novels, but I’ve learnt that their tastes tend to change as they grow and develop. There is so much out there for them to read and so many new mediums in which they can enjoy books. This means there is a whole new world for them to experience.
For my son, he is just about to embark upon an an incredible and lifelong journey.

By the way, the book he picked up was ‘Blitzed Brits’ from the Horrible Histories series by Terry Deary.

Run along and play, darling. Mummy’s finishing her book.

Finishing a novel is a wonderful feeling. It is the final accomplishment of a creative urge that has driven you along for several months, or even years.
But after the initial sense of elation that flows through your entire being at the blissful realisation the thing is finally done and dusted, some uncomfortable thoughts begin to edge their way into your consciousness. Did the kids do their homework this week? Or the week before, for that matter? When was I last in touch with my wonderful and witty girlfriend who I like to meet at least once a fortnight for a coffee and a catch-up?
Or, worse than this. You may find yourself trying to recall your last walk in the park. Or suddenly observing the untidiness and grubbiness of your surroundings and wondering why the scene you are currently surveying seems so oddly unfamiliar to you.
I am beginning to believe that writing is a kind of compulsion. For me anyway. I complete my books relatively quickly but they are not particularly short and they take up huge numbers of man-hours in their careful construction. But once I have started I find I really really need to finish. It isn’t as if I haven’t got anything else to do, oh no.
I have two young children and up until a couple of months ago a teaching career too. But that is just the way I write. The story feels as if it is forcing its way out of my brain and the characters are like petulant actors continually nagging me until they are given yet another scene to play out. I’m even starting to wonder if this whole book writing business is actually any good for me at all.
But then time will pass and I will lay my eyes upon that beautiful glossy paperback and marvel at people’s admiration and (hopefully) their praise. And, like a new mother with that gorgeous little bundle placed into their waiting arms, I will immediately decide that of course another must follow. The pain was all worth it in the end.
Perhaps next time I could give myself a little longer, though. I’m already telling myself the next one doesn’t have to come out for at least six months. But how I will feel when I actually get started is quite another matter and the compulsion might inevitably kick in.
There have been a number of great writers who could turn out books in super quick time. Agatha Christie and Josephine Tey, for example. For others it is a monumental task requiring immense preparation and years of writing and re-writing before the novel finally sees the light of day. The latter, I am starting to think, may be a healthier approach.
I left my career and took up book writing full-time; firstly because it was what I always dreamed of doing and secondly so that I would have greater flexibility to combine work and home-life. On the whole, the second objective I have achieved. However, once every few months my little darlings are going to have to accept that Mummy is not quite as switched on to the daily routine as she might normally be, and hey, after a while they’ll probably just get used to it, won’t they? Because my little ones also love to lay their hands on the pristine final product and to see their names set out in print within the first few pages. So, for as long as we all think it’s worthwhile, long may the compulsion continue.

Does it really matter how the story ends?

I watched a wonderful drama on telly this week. The 7.39 by David Nichols. Although I very nearly didn’t. Why? Because I had read a review over the weekend, which said the ending was totally predictable and unimaginative. Luckily, I ignored it. Largely because I know how good a writer Nichols is and the actors in it were pretty impressive too.
As I watched the second half I began to suspect that the critic hadn’t actually seen the programme at all. To me, the story followed quite an unexpected path and I found the themes that were explored really quite original and thought provoking. The idea that when the protagonist’s wife found out about his affair and threatened to destroy his family life, he actually began to finally appreciate what he had and fundamentally changed the way he interacted with them, was an interesting one.
In fact, I thought all of the characters acted in ways that I hadn’t completely expected and the dialogue was excellent. Particularly when the mistress says, ‘I don’t think I’m a bad person.’ And the wife replies, ‘Well, bad people never do.’
There was a moral ambiguity to the tale which meant you could find some sympathy with all the characters involved. There wasn’t a two dimentional ‘baddie’ in the piece. Perhaps it was a little sentimental at times, but it was also honest and written in good humour. Nichols is also a great writer of comedy. This made me think, rightly as it turned out, that he was setting out to entertain and stimulate me as a viewer and not to upset and depress me.
I don’t think it would have mattered too much how the story had concluded. It was the journey that the characters took which was the driving force of the narrative (quite literally, as most of the affair took place on the train) We shouldn’t get overly hung up about a ‘shock’ or ‘unexpected’ ending, as all too often it comes at the expence of a well-rounded, believable and compelling story.