BLAME IT ON ME
I’ve written a few books over the years, a ninth is ‘in the works.’ I can’t remember when I picked up one of mine and began reading it cover to cover. It left me wondering, ‘Did I really write it?’ I must have. My name’s on it.
I’m at it again. Rereading ‘HARVEST’. Probably because I’m counting on it still having legs.
Dare I say I’m enjoying it? Pacing ok. A plot that moves? Characters that have character: even the nasty ones.
HARVEST is set in Paris and the Dordogne region. I spent time at both and loved every moment. I have a contract with my US publisher - who brought out my latest novel HARM’S WAY - to reprint HARVEST, though delayed because of this damn pandemic that’s left all of us all twisting and turning in the wind.
When he offered to reprint HARVEST, I wondered aloud why he’d bring out a book by a previous publisher. He shrugged it off telling me, ‘What would Hemingway do if none of his books weren’t reprinted?’
If I have a favorite among my books, HARVEST. One reader sent me a note about her taking it when visiting France and every place I mentioned. Not only in Paris where she fell in love with the Left Bank, but also while traveling down to the Dordogne/Perigord region east of Bordeaux.
Author’s comment: Friends and others on occasion wonder how I began writing books. screenplays. My mind goes blank. Then it hits me. An idea popped into my head. It persisted and became unshakable. I started with that and kept going, not worrying about the grammar or my lousy spelling until the story ended on its own. Then came the many rewrites. The title? THE HERCULES TRUST. For stolen art worth millions, the asking price was murder.