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| Marcia in The Bookstop with (left) owner Natasha Church and reader Jean Jones. |
Today
Marcia is signing books in The Book stop, Tavistock and I am in the
Bedford Hotel writing this blog. As many of you will know, it was in
this bookshop that Marcia held the first book signing some fifteen
years ago. It seems far longer than that.
In
the early years, she used to write two 'Marcia Willett' books each
year and then there were the four years when there was only one but
also another: a 'Willa Marsh' book. She is now working on her
twenty-eighth novel (I regret I said yesterday that it was
publication day of her twenty-eighth which was wrong - that should
have been twenty-sixth: number twenty-seven is in production and will
be out next year).
It
has been quite a journey: a journey which included the Chadwick
Trilogy. In recent years, publishers have been far from keen on
trilogies and Marcia was delighted when Clare Foss of Hodder Headline
agreed to go along with the idea. Then there was the sequel. How
often have these gone badly wrong? You can hear the comments, can't
you? 'What a pity she felt she had to write a fourth book about these
people. It really is not as good as the first three!'
To
make matters worse, when Marcia finally gave in to Jolyon - who had
been tapping her on the shoulder for some years demanding that the
next part of his story should be written - she was now being
published by Transworld who knew almost nothing of the first three
books. I hope you will all agree that The
Prodigal Wife was a worthy fourth in what is
now being dubbed the 'Chadwick Chronicles'.
The
'Willa Marsh' novels were published in the UK by Sceptre and resulted
in Marcia having an excellent review in The Times. Considered to be
more literary and rather less cosy, these resulted in an amusing
exchange during question time after Marcia had given a talk.
'I
have just read Sisters Under the Skin,' said this woman. Then there
was a long pause.
'And?',
asked Maria.
'And
I always thought you were such a nice person,' was the rather
devastating response.
Although
no longer in print in this country, to Marcia's delight one of the
most prestigious publishers in France, Autrement, bought them and
have built up a cult following for Willa Marsh over there. They talk
about her 'tenderness for old people and her spiky black humour'.
Having published all four books, they have now bought The Children's
Hour but will be publishing it as another Willa Marsh novel. Does
this suggest that the two voices are gradually merging into one? I
rather feel it does. What do you think?
In
the early days, Marcia's books were usually published in May and the
cherry trees across the road from where I am sitting would be in
flower. Today there is definite feel of autumn in the air with the
churchyard covered in leaves swirling around in the chilly wind. Even
so, the bar here is full of ghosts: Cassandra and Kate, Quentin and
Clemmie, Oliver and Unk, Felicity and many others. Now that The
Sea Garden has hit the bookshelves I can say that some of these
will be meeting here again where, in some ways, that journey started.
It will, not, however, see the end of that journey - of that you may
rest assured.
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| On the way home, we realised there was a need to buy some milk. In the village of Holne on the edge of Dartmoor is a community shop. I first came across this sort of 'village venture' when I was writing a book of that name a couple of centuries ago and, since we thoroughly approve of these shops, we diverted (not very far) in order to buy a couple of pints there. Hitched - using the other end of the rein - to the fence outside was this chap We had a quiet chat whilst Marcia was in the shop and it seems his owner was in there too, enjoying a warming cup of coffee. Note: she must have been riding bare back. Brave girl. |
Next
week we will be talking about the sad history of a lovely young girl
called Jay.
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| Just thought I would share my frustration with you. This jackdaw is sitting on a neighbour's clothes post but he might just as well have been a cardboard cutout. Oh, or she lest, in this day and age of political correctness, I am accused of sexism. |
