Adland part II

Back in January I blogged about my new favourite ad. Now there's a few more vying for that title, so here's a round-up from the UK, the US, and Spain. Big thanks to Headline and MIRA for these oh-so-summery splashes. 

As to the aeroplane that flew over the beaches of Málaga the other weekend, trailing an El libro de los veranos banner... that's the work of my Spanish publisher Suma de letras. Muchas gracias. Brilliantly, brilliantly loco!

Holiday reading - a Book Slam blog

It's the holiday reading season, and I've been warning the lovely people over at Book Slam about the oft overlooked perils of this most enjoyable of pastimes. We're talking the Intellectual Overstretch, Destination Envy, Cultural/ Environmental Mismatch and, most crucially, Delicious Upheaval. Maybe you should take heed too... read it HERE.

R&J Summer favourite!

The Book of Summers has been voted readers' favourite in the Richard and Judy Summer Book Club poll! Thank you SO much to everyone who voted - you've made my already brilliant summer even better.

I feel very lucky to have been chosen for the club in the first place, and to know that readers cared enough to vote is really something. Again - thank you.

You can read more about the vote on the R&J site, and also in The Bookseller. And if you want to catch the video interview or podcast again, you can do so HERE and HERE. 

Hurrah for R&J, and especially the readers!

Little things

On the Spanish website enfemenino.com, for a few brief moments, El libro de los veranos was bigger news than RPattz and KStew. That's a flashbulb moment. Or a screengrab moment.

Your Summer needs you

A few weeks ago I excitedly blogged about The Book of Summers being chosen for the Richard and Judy Summer Book Club. Now we're at the point where everyone gets to vote for their favourite read. You've only got until Noon this Friday to get your vote in. 

To vote for The Book of Summers go HERE (please!). 

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!


(... and if you'd like to watch my interview with the legendary R&J... it's HERE.)

Good old goulash

Next up in my Villa Serena recipe series is beef goulash. It's a dish that couldn't be more synonymous with Hungary. My mum always cooked it for us at home; she favoured a soupy version which we'd hunch over, blowing on our spoons and dipping hunks of bread. In Hungary I've eaten goulash from a battered tin pan at a dusty roadside cafe, and I've had it served in a Herend porcelain bowl by a black-jacketed waiter at a refined Budapest restaurant. Whether it's street-food or fine dining, goulash always tastes the same to me. Robust. Fiery. Salty. Sweet. And full of heart.


In The Book of Summers, Erzsi remembers Marika making a wickedly hot goulash just to put the frighteners on her English relatives... "On the rare occasions that my aunt visited, Marika used her extra hot paprika in the goulash soup she made, and filled the house with gypsy music that made the cobwebs tremble." 


I think a recipe should be a starting point for inspiration, rather than something to be followed slavishly, and goulash is a great dish for freestyling. Despite what the purists may say, for me the only essential ingredients are beef and paprika... after that, it's a case of adding lots of what you fancy and less of what you don't. So if the inclusion of lard in the list below makes you balk, just swap it for a good splash of extra virgin. Or if you're not keen on the reedy taste of celery, throw in some more onions. I like my goulash to have a real kick but milder versions are good too - just add your chilli and paprika according to taste. I also prefer it to have the consistency of a stew rather than soup, but if you like the latter, just add more liquid. Here's beef goulash the way I make it...    

Ingredients (to serve 4):
Lard - a golf ball sized hunk (or however much your conscience can take)
750g-1kg beef (depending on how greedy you're feeling) - stewing steak or casserole
2 x large onions - chopped finely
1 x teaspoon of dried chili flakes (or more... )
3 x stems of celery - chopped chunkily 
2 x cloves of garlic - finely chopped
2 x heaped tablespoons of paprika* (medium strength)
Beef stock - approximately 1 pint 
2 x red peppers - sliced lengthways
1 x yellow pepper - sliced lengthways
1 x dried or fresh chili pepper - thrown in whole for extra heat (optional)
Chives & sour cream for garnish
Salt and pepper for seasoning


*I also like to use a spoonful of hot paprika paste (see jar in picture) - you can buy this from specialist Hungarian delis online.

Use a nice big heavy-bottomed pan. Melt your lard (okay, okay, or oil!) then fry the hunks of beef in batches until nicely browned. Once done, remove from the pan and set aside. Next fry the chopped onions, celery and garlic until glistening. Then add in the red and yellow peppers, and the chilli flakes, and fry until softened. Next, stir in the paprika, then get your beef back into the pan. Combine it all nicely, and then pour over your beef stock until everything is just covered. Add a little hot water from the kettle if you need more liquid. Bring to the boil and then turn it down to a simmer. If you've managed to get hold of the paprika paste, here's when I'd add it. After seasoning generously, now all you do is leave it to cook in. Turn the heat down as low as it'll go, put the lid partially on, and let it cook for about 1.5-2 hours (or until you can't resist the smell any longer). I sometimes like to leave it even longer, so that all the peppers and onions entirely break down and the sauce becomes really thick. To serve, scatter chopped chives and add the requisite dollop of sour cream.


I like my goulash accompanied by gnocchi - a little Italian-Hungarian combination that works brilliantly - and a zingy side of cucumber salad. This might seem like a wintry dish but to me it says 'summer'; hot sun on your skin, fire on your tongue and in your belly. And if you're serving your goulash at lunchtime there's nothing more perfect for dessert than an afternoon snooze in the shade. Jo étvágyat!

Hometown signing

On Saturday I went back to Devon for a book signing at WHSmith Guildhall in Exeter. So many friendly people stopped to chat and bought a book. The store had made a sign proclaiming me a local author - never have I felt prouder to have been born a Devon girl.

I went to college in Exeter, studying A-level English in a building just steps from the WHSmith door. In fact my former tutor popped down to say 'hello' - I hadn't seen her in maybe 14 years. We reminisced about sitting in class watching Colin Firth emerge dripping from the Pemberley pond, all in the name of the study of literature. The Bloody Chamber, Hamlet, Cat On A Hot Tin Roof... such happy memories of A-Level English. I loved studying in Exeter; visit it now and even with its cathedral, university and new shopping centres, it has the feeling of a quiet country town - to me at sixteen though, it was a heaving metropolis, and way before the high-street coffee chains rolled in I used to frequent its cafés, with a novel or notebook usually in hand. I used to hang out at The American Diner (now gone), making a butterscotch milkshake last all afternoon and playing 'Young Hearts Run Free' on the jukebox (Baz Luhrmann's Romeo & Juliet had just come out). Or the French café (also gone) in the concrete precinct, where I first tasted a Cappuccino to the strains of accordion music, and fancied myself in Paris. And in later years when I was home for the holidays from university and worked in a café-bar just off the Cathedral Green - spending my tips afterwards in a place called Number Five (gone? yes, gone), where giant leather armchairs swallowed you up and the waitresses' footsteps clattered across the uneven flagstones.  It always feels like winter when I think of Number Five - low lamplight inside and frosted cobbles outside; rushing the last of my coffee before I dashed to catch the country bus home, hoping it'd make it through Haldon Forest without skittering on ice. 


Ah, the country bus. Unlike my favourite cafés, nothing's changed there; it still runs infrequently, bumping along the green-tunnel lanes, gears complaining on the steep hills, often slowed by clusters of wandering sheep. I caught the bus after my signing, just as I had when I was a teenager, for as much as Exeter feels like home it isn't really. I come from a place where you can cross the River Teign on one good swing of a tattered rope and where on a clear day you can see all the way to the blue-grey hills of Dartmoor. One day I'd like to try and paint this place with words but for now my father's brush is better. Here's one of his pictures. Here's home.
    

Teign Valley, by Alwyn Hall

Thank you to WHSmith, and to everyone who came along, for making Saturday's signing so memorable. 

My week with Richard and Judy

Over the course of the summer each of the ten selections in the Richard and Judy Book Club enjoy their time in the sun. This week it's the turn of The Book of Summers.

On Thursday (tomorrow), from 12-2pm, I'll be doing a live web chat through the R&J Book Club's Facebook page - go HERE to check it out. People are already posting their questions and my fingers are itching to answer them... I need to point out here that I'm possibly one of the few remaining two-finger typists (but no less quick fire - pit me against a touch typist and... well... perhaps not). I'm really looking forward to answering everyone's questions. Maybe see you online tomorrow?


This coming saturday (the 21st) I'm heading to my home town of Exeter to sign books at WHSmith Guildhall and will be there from noon. I attended Exeter College for my A-levels and studied English in a building just steps from the WHSmith door... happy times, and it'll be great to be back on home turf. If you're in the area, do drop by and say 'hello.'


My interview with Richard and Judy is also available to watch now, and you can see it HERE. And the podcast we recorded is also live - go HERE to listen. They were both so lovely and easy to talk to, quickly relaxing a twitchy, nervous author - it was great to be in the hands of such pros.


As part of the Book Club The Book of Summers also features in Woman's Own this week. As well as Richard and Judy's own reviews four Woman's Own readers have reviewed the book  - thanks to Nazreen, Deborah, Lizzy, and Karen for saying such kind things. I doubt that my delight in knowing that my book has been read and enjoyed will ever fade.


Then the book itself... the edition that's for sale in WHSmith has extra Book Club bonus material in the back, including an extended Q&A and a piece I've written called 'Travelling With A Book' about the inspirations behind The Book of Summers. I also talk about some of my favourite holiday reads that still bear the marks of my travels. Just as a reader never forgets a good book, I like to think a book never forgets a good reader. My shelves are groaning with happily dog-eared titles; dust-flecked and sun-cream smeared, we've had some grand adventures together.

Finally - talking of special books - my publisher Headline are marking this week with a competition to win a very limited edition copy of The Book of Summers. It's a signed proof*, is hard-backed, gold-foiled, and astonishingly beautiful (see above pic). There are 15 to win, from a print run of only 90. You can enter HERE - on The Book of Summers Facebook page.


Thanks to Richard and Judy, WHSmith, Woman's Own, Headline, and everyone else involved - especially the readers - for making this such a brilliantly busy week of Summers.




*... which means it isn't the final, final version - so beware odd typos and other inconsistencies!

We'll always have the book - a Book Slam blog

What happens when our favourite books are turned into films? I recently heard James Sallis and Lee Child speak and the words of the latter made me think that maybe, just maybe, we should try not to take it all so personally... (unless, you know, Ryan Gosling is playing our lead, in which case let's dial up the personal). To read more, hop on over to the Book Slam website.

Independent Booksellers' Week

To help celebrate Independent Booksellers' Week on 5th July I visited Rossiter Books in Ross-on-Wye. It's a beautiful shop run by the husband and wife team of Andy and Victoria Rossiter, and one of two stores owned by the couple (the other's down the road in Monmouth). I first met Andy a few weeks ago while doing a signing in Waterstones, he was shopping with his children and stopped to chat. Serendipitously he was planning his events programme and was kind enough to ask me to be a part of it. Rossiter Books is clearly beloved within the local community. A great crowd came along, all friendly faces, and full of perky questions. It was my first evening event at a bookshop and I'm so happy to have been involved in Independent Booksellers' Week in some way. I went back to do some shopping the next day, and came away with a bag full of beautiful hardbacks. Lucky people of Ross, to have such a gem on their doorstep. Thanks to Andy, Carol and Richard who gave me such a lovely welcome - and to all those who came along on the night. Hurrah for indies!

Summers in Madrid

On 4th July The Book of Summers, El libro de los veranos, was published in Spain and my publisher, Suma de letras, invited me over for the launch. WHAT a time to be visiting Madrid. The city was euphoric, riding high on the football team's stunning success. I arrived in the middle of a city-wide street party, with Gran Via, the central thoroughfare akin to Oxford Street, entirely closed to traffic. Marta, from the Suma de letras publicity team, met me at the airport - a taxi took us as far as it could then we walked the last steps to the hotel. It was past 9pm and the heat of the day was still thick in the air. We sauntered to the tune of air horns and whistles, drum beats and joyous renditions of Viva España. Underfoot the street was sticky with spilt drinks and paper replicas of the Euro 2012 trophy were scattered like giant confetti. As an arrival in another country goes, it couldn't have been more intoxicating. As soon as I'd checked in I went out to join the red and yellow blaze of the party. 

The next morning I threw open my balcony doors. Even though it was only 8am it was already white-hot, and Gran Via was back to business as usual, football shirts swapped for office wear, and humming with traffic. I was getting ready for work too; the next day and a half held ten interviews with some of Spain's biggest papers, magazines, radio stations and websites. El libro de los veranos and I were going to be busy.

Our base for the day was my hotel, Hotel de las Letras, a place with a fine literary heritage and apparently the venue of choice for visiting authors. I met Marta and my interpreter - the super smart Diana - in the cool-white lounge, and so began an exciting, stimulating, exhausting day of interviews and photo shoots. 

After lunch at a cool little restaurant across the street (where my new Spanish friends laughed at our crazy English ways - puny sandwich lunches 'al desko' and bed before midnight) we sped through the afternoon. After the last interview Marta introduced me to the delights of San Anton market, helping me pick the finest Manchego cheese and Chorizo sausage to take home. By the evening I was pooped (last night's air horns not proving to be the softest lullaby) but Madrid is not the kind of city you want to draw a curtain on. Thanks to the late hours everyone keeps I still had time to wander around the shops, spotting El Libro de los veranos in three bookstores and two window displays, all within steps of one another.  In El Corte Inglés - Spain's biggest department store chain - the book is being sold together with a lovely desk-top photo album, meanwhile in Fnac in Valencia (books, music, movies) there's a huge banner advertising El libro de los veranos on the building's exterior... for a girl who used to work in Ad Land, that's especially awesome. I'm told Suma de Letras have even more exciting advertising plans for the summer... so watch this blog.

Rejuvenated by these 'in the wild' sightings I took to the hotel's rooftop bar for a nightcap and caught up with some work on book two (a deadline's a deadline, even when you've escaped your desk). The pink-white dusk was rolling in gently, Madrid's rooftops were luminous, and I found a quiet corner all to myself. Bliss.

I woke up the next morning with the sense I always get on my last day in a foreign city - I didn't want to go home. But there was plenty to keep my mind off departure, with more interviews - including with Spain's biggest daily El Pais - followed by lunch with the very lovely editorial team of Gonzalo and Pablo. They took me to a gem of a restaurant tucked in the back-streets, where giant hams hung from the ceiling and old boy waiters served up Spanish specialities. Gonzalo is a dedicated Anglophile and we talked cream teas, Agatha Christie and the indescribable joy of plucking a perfectly risen pie from the oven.

After bidding goodbye, I spent my last couple of hours in Madrid wandering the streets surrounding Gran Via. I found the brilliantly tatty English second-hand book shop J&J Books & Coffee where I drank a café con leche and browsed the stacks, coming across a near-new copy of Paul Hendrickson's Hemingway's Boat. Ernest famously loved Spain, and the last page of The Sun Also Rises takes place on Gran Via, with Jake and Brett in a cab.

My own taxi was waiting, so I hastened back to the hotel. As I walked, smiling and sweltering in the full heat of a weekday afternoon, the incredible warmth of my Madrid welcome over the past couple of days hit me. And it's with me still. I feel incredibly lucky to be published in Spain by people as passionate and enthusiastic as the Suma de letras team (thank you - Gonzalo, Pablo, Marta, Patricia, and interpreters Diana and Beth - for such an amazing trip). I feel grateful that so many journalists were willing to meet me and talk about my book. And I feel awed that The Book of Summers has taken on a life of its own, as El libro de los veranos, and will still be in Spain even when I can't be. Muchas gracias y Viva España!

Edinburgh International Book Festival

In August I'm making my first book festival appearance* and I'm delighted that it's at EDINBURGH, 'the largest celebration of the written word in the world.' Over 800 writers and thinkers will descend on the city over two weeks in August.

My event, 'Family Dramas Exposed', is on Friday 24th August, with Norwegian writer Karl Ove Knausgaard.   You can buy tickets HERE.


On the same day I'm also reading as part of the Amnesty International Imprisoned Writers Series. You can read more about that HERE.


All debut novelists appearing at the festival have their books entered into the ANOBII FIRST BOOK AWARD. This year there are 45 titles in the running, The Book of Summers among them. It's a public vote - last time fellow Headline author Sarah Winman won with the brilliant When God Was A Rabbit. If you'd like to vote for The Book of Summers, you can do so HERE (oh, go on!). 


All authors received their copies of the Festival programme a few days ahead of it being announced online, and the postman delivered not one but two copies to our house. The Etherington Brothers have their event on saturday 25th following a 'storming performance last year' (according to the most excellent blurb). Bobby and I did a little caper in the kitchen that morning, and waved our programmes madly. Then got back to work.


It's tempting to take my writing room on the road and north of the border for those last two weeks of August. My Edinburgh wish-list?  Liza Klaussmann, Nell Freudenberger, Susan Fletcher. And many, many more. Excited isn't the word... but it'll do for now.



*I've a few different events lined up over the coming months - check them out over on the EVENTS page of my blog. Hope to see you somewhere...

Uborka saláta

After Marika's Raspberry Cake, the next dish out of the Villa Serena kitchen is Hungarian Cucumber Salad or, Uborka saláta. I've a good old goulash bubbling away on the stove, and you'll get that recipe soon too, but before then here's my favourite of all side dishes. A lot of traditional Hungarian food is rich and intense so this sprightly salad is a welcome addition to any meal. It makes a particularly tasty accompaniment to said goulash. Marika and Zoltán serve cucumber salad as part of Erzsi's welcome supper, when she arrives for her fourth summer at Villa Serena. They dine together on the terrace as night falls behind them and the fireflies come out to play.

'Our plates were piled high, the silvery slices of cucumber dripping off the edges. 

Zoltán poured the glowing wine into three glasses. In the candlelight it looked 

like magic caught and held.'

Ingredients (to serve 4):
1 cucumber, peeled and sliced as thinly as you can manage
2 tablespoons of white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons of olive oil
1/2 teaspoon of caster sugar
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
Salt and pepper for seasoning
Sour cream & paprika to garnish


Take your peeled and finely sliced cucumber and cover it with a very generous sprinkling of salt. If you're not a salt fan you might balk at this part but it really does make all the difference to the salad's perky taste. Leave it to stand for about half an hour, then squeeze it out using the flats of your hands and a colander. While the cucumber's enjoying its salt bath, make your dressing by combining the white wine vinegar, olive oil, sugar, and a crunch of black pepper. Once you've wrung a lot of the salt from the cucumber, douse it in the dressing, and throw in the finely chopped garlic. Combine thoroughly, and taste to check for seasoning. I like to top it off with a dollop of sour cream and a dusting of paprika.  Jó étvágyat!

Euro 2012

While all (football loving) minds are turned to Europe, I'm excited to share three gorgeous new editions of The Book of Summers with you. 
On 5th June, Álbum de Verão came out in Portugal, published by Civilização.

On 4th July, El Libro de los Veranos will be published in Spain, by Santillana.

On 10th July, Il Libro Delle Estati will be published in Italy, by Mondadori.

Whatever happens in Euro 2012, Ronaldo, Torres, Cassano and co will clearly have, er, something to look forward to upon their return home. 

Marika's Raspberry Cake

'I can't believe it's cake for breakfast,' I said, through mouthfuls.

'I can't believe you're really here,' said Marika.

Food is an important part of The Book of Summers. Through bullet-holed cheese and bleeding tomatoes, paprika chicken and ragged twists of homemade noodles, Hungary reveals its exoticness to Erzsi, puts fire in her belly and in her heart. Meals on the Villa Serena terrace are always memorable and food is entwined with gestures; the homely taste of Wiener Schnitzel and big fat chips when Erzsi's laid low; Marika's rambunctious promise of a lunch made entirely of ice-cream; Zoltán's quieting of fractious spirits with a red-hot fish soup. I thought it'd be fun to bring the flavour of Villa Serena to my blog throughout the summer, writing recipes for a few of the dishes that appear in the book. In the spirit of Marika, mine is a freestyle kitchen so don't expect things to exactly follow Hungarian conventions. But no recipe will appear here unless it's passed the taste test. Bon appétit - or as they say in Hungary - Jó Étvágyat!

Where better to start than on Erzsi's very first morning in Hungary? When Erzsi wakes up at Villa Serena she sees that Marika has baked her a cake, with her name spelt out in raspberries. It's a wonky, imperfect heap, but made with real heart and Erzsi tucks in with relish. I'm with Marika on this one, cake for breakfast is a brilliant indulgence. The balance works here because of the sober nature of the cake itself (a fat-free Hungarian sponge that has a sweet though slightly bready texture), the zestiness of the lemon icing and the fresh taste of the fruit. And the quick spread of apricot jam through the middle calls to mind the toast you might have had if you'd settled for a more boring breakfast.

For the cake:

6 eggs

120g self-raising flour

150g castor sugar

Separate your eggs, then cream the egg yolks with half of the sugar. Beat the egg whites until stiff, gradually adding in the rest of the sugar. Gently fold the sugared egg whites into the yolks, and blend in the sieved flour. Lightly grease two sandwich tins (approx 8 inches across) and divide the mixture between them. Bake in a pre-heated oven at 190 degrees for 15-20 minutes, or until golden.

For the filling & topping:

150g unsalted butter

300g icing sugar

Juice & zest of one lemon

A good dollop of apricot jam

Lots of fresh raspberries

Cream the butter, then beat in the sieved icing sugar. Add the zest and juice of one lemon and mix through. Once the two halves of the cake have cooled, spread one with the jam, and cover entirely with raspberries. Then take just under half of your icing and spread over the underside of the other cake. Put the two together, and spread the top with the remainder of the icing. Take what's left of your raspberries and write the name of your cake's intended. Or - if you run out of space like I did - settle for an initial. This one's E for Erzsi.

Brew a pot of good, strong coffee, cut a generous slice, and find a patch of morning sunlight. That's breakfast,Villa Serena style. 

WIN - a Summer sundae

The weather in the UK has been utterly miserable over the Jubilee weekend, but in our house the sun was beaming as I made myself a Book of Summers Sundae. Yes. You had that right. A Summer Sundae.

Until 31st July my UK publisher Headline are running an amazing competition to win an ice cream day for your whole office, topped off with The Book of Summers wafers. If that isn't the proverbial cherry (and I highly recommend some literal ones as well, for that Magyar touch) then I don't know what is. You can enter the competition HERE.


Ice cream was always a feature of our trips to Hungary when I was a child. Back in the 90s, dessert choices in Hungarian restaurants were often quite limited; pancakes, trifle, and copious amounts of ice cream. No café was complete without a menu showing enticing pictures of  'ice cream cups', dribbled with chocolate sauce, dripping with fresh fruit and scattered nuts, although rarely did the sundaes that came to our table resemble their photographic counterparts. Often they were bigger. Best of all were the roadside kiosks, where I tasted watermelon and cherry flavours for the first time, and always walked away with a towering cone, the wafer crumbling beneath my fingers, the hot, hot sun sending bright-coloured rivulets running down my wrist. Fagylalt - as it's called in Hungary (pronounced something like fodge-loite) - is an eternally sweet memory of those childhood holidays. 


Go on, enter the comp, and bring the sweet taste of Hungarian summers into your office - no matter what the English weather's doing outside the window. 

Coast to coast

I was very excited to see The Book of Summers included in the Los Angeles Times round-up of Beach Reads in the same week that an ad for my novel appeared in the hallowed pages of The New Yorker. That's some fine coast to coast coverage, and gives me itchy feet - I've never been to New York or California and lust after visiting both. I was also interviewed by Melanie Smith of the US-based website Book Reporter - the questions were the most in-depth I've answered yet, and all the more enjoyable for it - you can read them HERE. Book Reporter also reviewed The Book of Summers, "In every page of this breathtaking novel is a strong sense of place and humanity. Readers will really appreciate the solid, artistic, beautifully descriptive quality of Emylia Hall's writing." You can read the review in all of its loveliness HERE. What else? My publisher MIRA offered Vera Wang beach totes to readers tweeting their favourite summer memories, and after a Book Reporter competition twenty-five signed copies of The Book of Summers have gone to winners across the USA, from Gulf Breeze to Baton Rouge, from Scottsdale to Breckenridge. A brilliantly exciting first Publication Week across the pond, then. It might call for another batch of blueberry pancakes...      

Oh, Hay!

On the coat-tails of The Etherington Brothers (my husband and his little bro Lorenzo) I went to the Hay Festival this weekend. The boys performed three Comic Capers shows in as many days, introducing 1,000 children to the joys of creativity - particularly the magic that happens when words meet pictures. I was so proud to sit in the crowd and watch them do their thing with such aplomb.

Afterwards, as the boys signed books, I did a little browsing. Earlier I'd discovered the joys of Richard Booth's Bookshop and picked up a couple of second-hand gems, but was soon drawn to the shiny-new delights in the Festival Bookshop. I wish I read more slowly, as I'm afraid I'll zip through this little pile in no time at all...  

  
I've started with Diamond Star Halo by Tiffany Murray and I couldn't be enjoying it more. Owen Sheers describes it as 'a beautiful, pitch-perfect harmony of Wuthering Heights and your favourite mix tape,' and the Guardian, 'heart-felt writing from the glam-rock Dodie Smith.' I'm half-way through and so far, so utterly perfect. The writing is sensual and pops from the page. And it makes me want to listen to T. Rex, which is never a bad thing. 

My other find of the weekend was deep in the stacks of the aforementioned Richard Booth's. A Terrace In The Sun by Cecil Roberts. I'd not heard of either the book or its author, but the title spoke to me, as did the whimsy little sketch of villa and Cypress trees on the cover. The blurb - written in 1951 - sealed the deal: Stephen May, at the height of a distinguished career as an artist, looks at his life one New Year's Eve in Monte Carlo and finds he has nothing left to live for. I'm imagining it as a darker sort of An Enchanted April.

  
It was amazing to be in Hay as a WAG along with Lorenzo's wife Esther, cheering on the boys from the sidelines. But as I watched them on stage, gulping down water and adjusting their mics, by stomach flipped a little, as next time I go to a festival with The Etherington Brothers I'll be appearing too. I suspect my audience will be less prone to giggling and I'll be doling out fewer knuckle bumps, but then again, you never know.

Pancakes for Pub Day

Today The Book of Summers is published in the USA and Canada. I can remember talking to my editor at MIRA, Erika, very early on in the process; they were interested in publishing but an offer hadn't been made yet. I slipped out of work and took the call from New York sitting on a park bench. Erika told me how she was married to a Hungarian man, and how so much of the book resonated with her - that very weekend she had even been to a Szalonna Party (American readers, if you'd like to turn to page 49 in the book, all will be explained). The stars - and stripes - were surely aligned in my favour that day, and with the brilliant support of Erika & the team at MIRA, they have been ever since. 


This morning there was only one way to celebrate; American-style blueberry pancakes, with lashings of maple syrup. I threw in some strawberries for good measure, brewed a cup of coffee (served in my lucky Santa Fe mug, a souvenir from my New Mexican honeymoon), and sat down in the garden. It's amazing to think that across the Atlantic over the coming days, weeks, months, perhaps a reader will perform much the same ritual; a short stack, bottomless coffee, and The Book of Summers. Now that's my American Dream, right there. 

Richard & Judy Summer Book Club

Today is paperback publication day for The Book of Summers in the UK, and just yesterday it was announced that my book has been chosen by Richard and Judy for their Summer Book Club. I've known about it for a little while and I've been bursting to tell - it's quite overwhelming that I can now shout about it. 

I've always been a fan of Richard and Judy's selections - some of my favourite contemporary novels have been past picks, Eve Green by Susan Fletcher, The Outcast by Sadie Jones, The Paris Wife by Paula McLain, and I'm honoured to be in such company. (American readers - if you're unfamiliar with the legends that are Richard and Judy, my US editor Erika brilliantly described them as 'think Oprah, with charming accents').

You can read both Richard and Judy's reviews of The Book of Summers in full HERE. Richard said "A delicate, atmospheric, regretful tale but full of redemption too. I absolutely loved it" and Judy, "A lovely story of a mother's love and shattered dreams. And the power of simple photographs and forgotten trinkets to mend broken hearts." A video interview will appear on the same site in the near future (we filmed yesterday) and in July a dedicated podcast will run, as well as a live web chat - I'll keep you posted.

The Book Club will be in all WHSmith stores throughout the summer, and also online, with regular Facebook updates. Wowzer. What more can I say? Only that I'm incredibly grateful to Richard and Judy for choosing The Book of Summers. I couldn't wish for a better start to my book's life as a paperback.