Snowdrops, sprinkles, socks

Approximately-weekly news, #77

They are here.

Every February, when the snowdrops arrive* in my garden, I say the same thing: spring always comes.

Every January, I almost doubt that this annual miracle of hope will happen. But I suppose that’s part of what makes them such a joy.

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This week’s permission slip:

You have permission to find enjoyment in things that others don’t understand.

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Next week, the ebook of A BOOKSHOP SUMMER comes out. (The paperback will be in May.)

As ever, I am riddled with nerves, but I made my peace with that a lot of books ago. Things that mean a lot, matter a lot, which makes for nerves-a-lot.**

I’ve written about the writing of this book before, and how the absorption of work got me through the worst of loss. It was also the swallowing of a bitter pill: I learned that however much I might want to be destroyed by grief, however easy and romantic that might seem, there is always solace to be found. (I am a heroine more made in Austen than in Brontë. I think Lou was probably written by Dickens, with her determination and sense of right, except that she wasn’t called Loulabella Scragwinkle or similar.)

And now, with publication near, I’m going to tell you about some of the things that I am unequivocally happy about when it comes to this book.

• Two of my characters, twins, are called Cherry and Peaches Fox. I have been trying to find a story for Cherry for a long time - ever since I dreamed that I was given (dreams, ey) a red-haired baby and decided to name her Cherry Fox.

• This book returns to the world of Lost For Words, and it is so satisfying to bring new characters in to mix with the old. I love it when this happens in books I read*** so I get a real thrill from doing it for my readers. Step forward, Trixie, Madison,**** and Kit, and welcome back. (Some of the others look in, too.)

• Part of ‘A Bookshop Summer’ involves a trip to a woodland, something I did as part of the research. I loved writing this section, and I still think of the time I spent in a woodland with someone who knew it intimately and could show me, tell me, all of the things I would never know by looking with my untrained eyes.

• I got to write about books (hooray), including cookery books; one of my go-to cake recipes (Nigella’s Storecupboard Chocolate Orange Cake) is an important part of the plot.

• I also got to write a toddler called Spike. This is a matter of great delight to me because when I was expecting my second child*****, I wanted to name a son Spike. Everyone thought I was joking, but I wasn’t. And I think we can all agree that this novel is FULLY LEGAL PROOF of my seriousness.

• The book includes a poem (not by me) which is honestly one of the most beautiful things I have ever come across. You’ll see.

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Cookery tip of the week: if you don’t bake your chocolate bundt cake for quite long enough, and it sticks to the tin, just cover it with glaze and then encrust the glaze with that tub of out-of-date sprinkles****** you found during the pre-Christmas there-must-be-some-treacle-in-here-somewhere cupboard rummage.

You’re welcome.

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Writing services: details of what I do are here

(You can either reply to this newsletter or email me to discuss anything here.)

• I have opened bookings for manuscript assessments and developmental and line edits from April to June. If you think you might like to book a slot, now’s the time to get in touch!

• I can take on one person for mentoring beginning in late February/early March.

• I have a waiting list for all services. Adding your name doesn’t commit you to anything, but means I’ll contact you if a space comes up when things move around.

• I can usually fit in one-off mentoring sessions and submission package reviews within 2 weeks.

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The socks I mentioned last time we talked knitting have been gifted, so I can show you:

They were a delight to knit: I find that’s often the case when I’m making something for someone I love.

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That’s it for this week. Next time: front door news, aka a dream come true.

I’m sending you snowdrops.

Love

Stephanie xx

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*I know that, technically, they grow, but it feel as though they arrive, one cold night: they aren’t there the day before, and then suddenly, white glow and hope.

**may need to workshop that a bit more.

***I just typed ‘real books’ and hesitated before deleting it! Hello Imposter Syndrome, my old friend

****you hadn’t forgotten how much I love an Oxford comma, had you?

*****a daughter

******insert legal disclaimer about out-of-date sprinkles here