Getting Away with Murder in Manchester

 LUCIENNE BOYCE finds herself DEAD ON DEANSGATE (which isn’t quite as alarming as it sounds)

 What would you get if you put Owen Archer, Falco, and Sherlock Holmes in the same room as Andy Dalziel, Harry Devlin and Kate Brannigan?

You’d get a celebration of crime fiction. Place that room in a Manchester hotel, invite some of the most highly acclaimed crime writers in the world – Ruth Rendell, Janet Evanovich and Reginald Hill for example – and keep them there from Friday 27 October to Sunday 29 October, and you’d have Dead on Deansgate 2000.

Organised jointly by Waterstone’s and the Crime Writers’ Association, Dead on Deansgate is an international festival of crime literature, now in its third year. It’s a chance for writers and readers to mingle, for fans to get their books signed, and for everyone to sit in on panel discussions between authors, editors, publishers, and agents on a huge variety of topics. Have you ever wondered what it is, exactly, that editors do? Or how writers keep a series alive? Or if crime fiction incites crime? Dead on Deansgate was a chance to get some answers to these, and many other, questions.

 

History on Deansgate

 

Dead on Deansgate was, of course, dominated by mainstream crime fiction – meaning fiction with a contemporary setting. According to Conference Organiser Jude Davies of Waterstone’s, by Saturday evening between 420 and 450 people had attended, of whom 108 were authors. A survey of the programme reveals that of these authors, 16 were historical novel writers. Of the 37 panels offered, 2 were specifically on issues connected with historical novels, while historical novelists acted as panellists or moderators in many other sessions – on medicinal crime, on the writing craft, on regional crime, for example. Nevertheless, historical crime fiction was decidedly in the minority. So does involvement in an event like this do the historical novel any good?

Mike Jecks was of the opinion that the historical novel did benefit. “It's a good showplace…for crime writing in particular and historical writing generally as well, because so many historical novels are based around crime.”

Edward Marston, who was Chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association when the first Dead on Deansgate was established, expressed a similar view, describing Deansgate as a “shop window”, both for individual authors, and for the historical novel generally. People come in to see an author they like, he suggested, and may then become interested in another. Candace Robb also thought that “it is important for historical novel crime writers to come because most attention is with contemporary, there is more emphasis on contemporary” fiction.

But Susanna Gregory was not so sure. “I confess I felt a bit non-mainstream and out on a limb…Historical fiction really is a different animal from contemporary stuff…I don’t know whether it would be better to have an historical session or series of sessions, because then we could really get our teeth into some good issues, or whether we should try to make our genre less isolated by staying in with the main body of crime writing.”

At the moment, there isn’t a lot of choice for historical fiction writers. Deansgate is, said Mike Jecks, “the only thing of its kind in the country. Apart from a similar event that goes on in Holland, I think it is the only one in Europe.” American crime conventions are much more frequent. For Candace Robb the fact that Deansgate “is smaller than mystery conventions in the States” is an advantage. “Sometimes you are lost in the crowd. This is more intimate.”

 

Schmoozing on Deansgate

 

Intimate or formal, at the moment there is no similar forum for the historical novel, and historical novelists are left to slot in with writers of another genre. I wondered if they found this of any use to them as individual writers. 

Writing is an isolated profession. It’s not surprising then that meeting other authors was high on the agenda. For Susanna Gregory, “the best part was meeting other crime writers and exchanging opinions and experiences.” “I get to listen to what English crime writers are talking about,” said Candace Robb, “and meet people I would not otherwise meet, talking about ideas…and schmoozing.” (Schmoozing – I had to ask! - means “networking”.) “I come here to meet other authors,” said Mike Jecks, “and to get away from my p.c.” Edward Marston also thought it was useful to meet other writers – partly because it gave him a chance to size up the competition. “Socially, one of the best weekends I’ve had in ages,” concluded Susanna Gregory.

But there’s business to be done too. Books have to be sold as well as written. “I don’t tend to go to events which are just for authors,” said Mike Jecks, “because at the end of the day it’s pretty expensive going to a hotel and if there isn’t a potential of increasing sales I feel it’s a bit unjustified…I’m self employed, and everything has to be about that.” That’s why a large aspect of Deansgate was the author signings that took place after the panels and talks, with books on sale from Waterstone’s bookstalls.

As well as increasing sales both directly and indirectly, there was other work to do. Candace Robb was combining her trip from America with research expeditions to York and Edinburgh. As she pointed out, “There’s not much about Chaucer and the fourteenth century in the USA!” There were agents and publishers to meet. Martin Edwards, editor of Past Crimes, an anthology of historical crime fiction, said, “The event is about raising profile for authors…personal profile as much as anything else.”

There were also the panels to prepare for and attend. Experience of these discussion forums was, inevitably, varied, depending as it must on interaction between audience and panellists. Mike Jecks, who moderated “Livening up the Past” thought it went “brilliantly”, in spite of being one of the opening panels – 2pm on Friday afternoon. Candace Robb was also pleased with the turnout for “Regional Crime”, especially since it was on at the same time as the interview with Ruth Rendell!  Susanna Gregory had the bad luck to be on one of the last panels of Saturday, which was about Medicinal Crime, and was not historical. She felt that the panel was “a very disparate” group, “and finding common ground was hard. We ended up talking about euthanasia, which is highly emotive and for which being a crime writer doesn’t really give me any kind of background for holding opinions one way or the other.”

 

Encouraged on Deansgate

 

Clearly, published authors found much to value in the mix of business and pleasure. What about the 400 or so other souls who were there? If, for example, you were attending Deansgate as an unpublished writer in the hopes of picking up some useful tips, how likely were you to come away satisfied?

                I am sure that most of the sessions contained useful elements, but at least three of them seemed to be aimed directly at people who wanted to learn something about the craft and business of writing. These were: “The Deadly Art: Putting it into Words”, “A Rough Guide to Getting Published” and “Spell-check or Rewrite? What is the task of an editor or agent?”

                “A Rough Guide to Getting Published” was on Friday afternoon, and for that reason, I think, did not go as well as the Saturday panels. People were still arriving, greeting friends, settling in, getting into the “swing of things”, and the session seemed less focussed than others I went to. The panel was moderated by Barbara Peters (founder of Poisoned Pen Press), and comprised Stephanie Churchill, authors Denise Ryan and Gwendoline Butler, and digital publisher Rolf Stricker. Unfortunately, there was nothing new about the advice offered, which was at the very basic “make sure you send your manuscript to the right agent or publisher by looking in the Writers’ And Artists’ Year Book” level. 

As one of the panel members said afterwards, it was very difficult to know what level to pitch the session at, since the panel did not know the composition of their audience. Perhaps this problem could have been overcome if the programme contained more details about what the sessions were intended to cover, so that people could judge for themselves if attendance was worthwhile. The contents of some sessions remained mysterious to the very end – I never found out exactly what “From Cradle to Bookstore” was about!

“The Deadly Art: Putting It Into Words” had a very good audience, despite being at 9am on Saturday morning! Moderated by Manda Scott, with Jane Adams, Andrea Badenoch, Hilary Bonner, Frances Fyfield and H.R.F. Keating, this was a well run and very helpful session. There were some real tips to be had. Stuck with your novel? Try Frances Fyfield’s suggestion and change your work method – write in longhand instead of on the p.c. Harry Keating suggested an old army device – the “sit. rep.” – that is, write a situation report about your story. This will clarify where you’ve come from – and where you are going!

How many of us have started a novel only to groan in despair halfway (or less) through? It’s the worst idea in the world – what on earth possessed us to embark on such a feeble story? Well, you are not alone! All of the panellists talked about the experience of having serious doubts some way into their novels, and all said – stick with it!

“Spell-check or Rewrite”, moderated by author Russell James, with Ruth Dudley Edwards, Barbara Peters, Tony Strong and agent Lisanne Radice, delivered what it promised, with some useful insights about the role of the editor and agent. On the whole, all three panels had something to offer, not least the chance to hear other writers talk, sometimes most entertainingly, about their work.

 

Readers on Deansgate

 

But what about the people who give the publishing industry life? I mean, of course, the readers. Of course, many of us were there as writers and readers, agents and readers – but I am referring to people who read books without having these other interests. The people who attended the panels, bought books and queued up to have them signed. What was there for them to get out of the weekend?

It seems that that was it.

It’s true, of course, that writers have to sell books, but I do think that a reader’s relationship with a book is more than a purely commercial one. Look at it this way. My day and a half’s attendance cost me £50, which included a generous £15 of book vouchers. Add to that the price of the dingy mausoleum of a hotel where I stayed, plus meals – not the Deansgate Gala Dinner but a fabulous feast in China Town for me – and travelling, and it works out to a pretty expensive weekend. Why would a reader go to all that trouble and expense if all she or he was interested in was buying books that are easily available from any bookstore? Book collectors and dealers, busy storing up signed copies, might think this is worthwhile – and in fact, I did meet two people who were there as collectors. But – and being married to a book collector I can vouch for this! – collectors do not necessarily read the books they buy.

The opportunity for readers to meet their favourite authors was one of the main attractions of Dead on Deansgate, but for many the signings were their only opportunity to make contact – provided, of course, that they had made a purchase first! The problem was that during the rest of the time, authors were busy talking to their agents, publishers and other writers. There is, of course, nothing wrong with this; it’s simply the old “how do you get people to mingle at a party?” problem.

I gather that at the first Dead on Deansgate, readers and authors were distinguished by coloured badges, but this was considered too divisive, as indeed I think it must be. However, I don’t think the problem is an insuperable one. What about organising informal coffee break sessions, at which times named authors would give their undivided attention to readers? Or offering five-minute appointments (reminiscent of parents’ evenings?) with authors? Or having someone to “host” the event and make introductions on request (a bit like Beau Brummell at Bath perhaps!)

Of the authors I spoke to, only one expressed any interest in meeting readers – and Susanna Gregory reported that she “only met one ‘fan’…Friday night was designated readers’ night in Waterstone’s, and I trogged along to meet some. But, although I had a great time and met some new writers, I didn’t manage to speak to any readers. That was a shame.”

One writer referred to readers as “punters”. And that seemed to sum it up.

 

Returning to the crime scene

 

Would I go to another Dead on Deansgate? Any event that lasts over a prolonged period, and involves so many people and events, is bound to generate mixed feelings. There are things you like, things you don’t, people you like and people you don’t. But it’s all part of the excitement. Making friends. Talking. Listening. Learning. Being with people whose passion for books might even match your own. (One man I met confessed that his last partner left him because she thought he cared more for books than her! Well, what’s the problem?)

The range of panel topics was staggering – I really did regret having to choose between them! All of the panels had efficient time-keepers to ensure they finished on time. All had question and answer sessions. The venue was comfortable. Registration might have been a bit more efficient – I wasn’t given a programme for example – but if you had to ask for anything, Waterstone’s staff were helpful.

Susanna Gregory, who went to the first Dead on Deansgate, commented that “obviously, experience in organising this kind of event shows. It was better organised this year…I’m not denigrating the efforts of the first year. I’m saying that the DoD organisers took a splendid event and have improved on it.” It was a splendid event. I came home full of ideas, impressions and memories. I hope that Dead on Deansgate 2001 will be as good – I suspect it will be better – and I hope that I will be there!

 

 

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Wielding the debut dagger

Or how to drive a judge to murder

 

The winner of the Debut Dagger, the Crime Writers’ competition open to unpublished writers, was announced at Dead on Deansgate 2000. This is the third year of the competition, which since its inception has been linked to the Deansgate festival. If you are trying to get a break into publishing, then the Debut Dagger is a real opportunity – every winner so far has been published, as have some of the people who made it to the shortlist. The competition is well worth entering, as many HNS members realised. But, if you are going to enter the Debut Dagger – or any other competition – don’t spoil your chances by making fundamental mistakes that may make the judges feel murderous!

I talked to Mike Jecks, this year’s organiser. His role was not only administrative – arranging sponsorship with publishers, obtaining advertising and so on – he was also responsible for producing long and short lists to pass on to the judging panel. Mike told me that there were approximately 850 entries for the Debut Dagger, from which he produced a long list of 80, which had to be further reduced to a short list of 10. He also retained a casting vote, should it be required.

Four of the six panel members were editorial directors from major U.K. publishing houses. As Mike Jecks pointed out, “all the judges are professionals in the publishing industry.” In effect, if you enter the Debut Dagger competition, you are submitting your manuscript to a publisher. This is how the professionals expect to have work presented to them.

 

Don’t bind the pages

Mike: “Firstly, lots of people sent me oodles of folders...Absolutely pointless, because everything has to be taken out…I have had to throw a load away. So there’s just no point. Some people spent a lot of money getting their things bound, which had to be cut out of the bindings because I and editors prefer to work on loose sheets of paper.”

 

Write a full synopsis

Mike: “There were a lot of synopses which were not full synopses, which was a non-starter. For example, they would leave out the question of who had committed the crime, and you would only find who the criminal was if you read the book. That’s no good because when it goes in front of an editor, the editor cannot tell whether the book is thought through, so the editor won’t buy it. And it can’t go on in the competition.”

 

Type up your submission – and don’t forget to include the entry fee

Mike: “For God’s sake, do send things in typed…do send them in double line spaced. Put in a page number. Astonishing the number of people who didn’t. It’s bog standard commonsensical stuff and people should know that sort of thing already…and a number of people sent off their entries but forgot to send the money.”

 

Don’t ask for your entry back

Mike: “There were a number of people who after 3 months asked us to send back their entry…to send it on to someone else. This is silly because you don’t want to have something that’s already been pawed over, because it’s not going to impress any editor.”

 

Now for some encouragement

 

Every single entry to the Debut Dagger was read, regardless of any shortcomings in presentation and, said Mike, “the quality of entries was generally extremely high, and getting it down to a shortlist was extremely difficult.” What was Mike looking for when he prepared the short lists? It was, he told me, “quality of writing.” As to judging that, “the first basic point of whether it’s good, is do I want to carry on reading it when I’ve got to the last bit?” He was “also trying to give the judging panel a good mixture of different types of book…when it actually went forward, I think there were two historicals, two noir, there was a real variety…” 

If your entry didn’t make it onto the short lists, it is worth remembering, as Mike says, that “everything to do with judging is subjective. I have heard that certain judges will always throw away any book that starts with a feisty female, or where the bloke is making himself a cup of coffee, because that tends to imply that it’s padding…but the simple fact is, I’m looking for something that I am interested in, that I want to read…It could be any number of things that actually interest you.”

                It might be your bad luck, if you’ve written a book whose main character is a circus clown, to get a judge, an editor, or an agent, who can’t stand clowns. You can’t do anything about that – but you can take Mike’s advice, and maximise your manuscript’s chances of success when you enter it in a competition, or send it out into the world of professional publishing.

               

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Could Jesus be the Next Fictional Detective?

 

This provocative question was posed by Deryn Lake at the “Historical Characters in Fiction: Truly Criminal?” panel on the morning of Saturday 28 October 2000 at the Dead on Deansgate festival. The issue of whether or not writers should use real historical characters in their fiction was given a lively and, at times, hilarious treatment in this session, which was moderated with great brio and humour by Deryn Lake, author of a series about the eighteenth- century apothecary John Rawlings.

The panel included Robert Barnard, who has written 35 crime novels, including 4 historical novels, together with books on Dickens, Agatha Christie and Emily Brontë. Barnard writes fiction about an alternative Mozart, positing in his stories that the composer did not return to Salzburg, but remained in London. Judith Cook is the journalist who investigated the murder of anti-nuclear campaigner Hilda Murrell, and her historical novels include the series based on the real-life Elizabethan physician Dr. Simon Forman. Gillian Linscott is the author of the Nell Bray books. Nell is a fictional militant suffragette, and sleuth. David Wishart is the author of the Marcus Valerius Corvinus books.

It was interesting that although every member of the panel does in fact use real characters in their novels, a distinction was made between using “icons” – Shakespeare or Jane Austen for example – and people about whom little is known.  Wishart, whose Roman did exist although there is little information about him, suggested that it was the use of a major figure that created problems for writers. Using a real character could limit the writer to some extent. This was partly because readers would have their own ideas about that character, especially if they were well-informed; and partly because a character has to be able to grow the way the writer wants, and if he has not created the character, then that growth is stunted.

Similarly, Judith Cook listed lack of knowledge about him as one of the criteria for her choice of Dr. Forman as protagonist. He was also useful, she said, because he knew Shakespeare, and was socially mobile. Deryn Lake’s character existed, but again little is known about him. Nevertheless, she “loathes” people who use real icon figures, for example Jane Austen, as a sleuth. Barnard thought that it was lazy to use such familiar figures instead of building up a character, since they already have “customer recognition” – “oh, Jane Austen, it’s going to be elegant.”

Certainly, the writer has to weigh up the pros and cons of using a real person, especially if that person is famous. As one questioner from the audience said, why pick a historical character when you are going to be constrained by reality? But do you have to let reality hold you back? Is it acceptable to change aspects of a character’s life, if they don’t fit so well into your story? Deryn cited the case of the eighteenth-century magistrate John Fielding, who was blinded at the age of 19. Yet one author has him blind from birth, and married – although he never did marry.

Various ways of dealing with changes to the facts were suggested – from Wishart’s confessional author’s note to Linscott’s notion that “you can cheat, if you cheat fairly – for example, we don’t usually have verbatim dialogue for people, but we put words into their mouths.”  She thought that it was a tribute to write about someone, and would not write about anyone only to insult them. However, as Barnard pointed out, other writers are not so scrupulous. Charlotte Brontë has recently been characterised as a murderess!

Personally, I found the distinction between well-known and obscure people a little disingenuous. The advantage of using someone obscure is, I suppose, that no one can find you out! But surely the issues remain the same. Do the dead have rights? Do their descendants have rights? If so, rights to what? To be represented fairly? To be left alone? Or was Gillian Linscott right when she said “History is history – they are dead, they are up for grabs…all history is myth and respectable historians guess at people’s motives.”

So is there a writer out there who would use Jesus Christ as a fictional detective?c

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Lucienne Boyce reviews for HNR and edits the HNS Email Newsletter. Since taking a philosophy degree at Sheffield University, she has followed a couple of mistaken vocations, but all she really wants to do is write. She now works part-time to finance her habit. Though not yet published, she delights in her life of writing, reading and general bookishness.