Calamity Chicks 3.2

You may notice a few pix of drums in the publicity stuff - here's why.

    The long, hot summer of 1976 saw Lin taking on a bigger role at the studios while Granite spent a couple of months touring Scandinavia and Eastern Europe, where their music had taken off after an aggressive marketing campaign.
  Mum’s quartet had a twelve-night stay in Japan booked, and Lin assured both parents she’d be perfectly capable at home with no adults around. She was actually looking forward to some peaceful evenings after assisting in the studio, doing what was necessary to release the engineer from dealing with the day-to-day trivia. Some of the younger lads had huge egos and unreasonable expectations of the minutiae of a recording session.
    Her day ran a lot smoother when the old-timers were booked in, although she occasionally came across what Mindy would have called “wandering hands.” She quickly identified the potential perpetrators and steered clear. But she had no defence when Zac, the lead singer of Rogue, took a fancy to her, chatting her up at every opportunity.
    The band had the studio booked solid for a fortnight while they laid down tracks for their fourth album. After the runaway success of the second, the third, recorded while she was at school, had been a comparative flop. The manager was delighted to see her, calling her a “lucky charm” and a “muse,” insisting she remained close by.
    A hardship this was not as she watched and learnt. The actual mechanics of capturing different sounds baffled her, but she restricted her thirst for knowledge until the end of the sessions, knowing how hard the sound engineer had to concentrate as he constantly tweaked knobs to keep the graphic equalisers within an acceptable level of distortion.

    Then the unthinkable happened during a session as Ken was called away because his wife had gone into labour with their first child. His assistant, Mick, didn’t have the same level of expertise, but no-one seemed too bothered as Rogue rehearsed a brand new song which took them places they’d not been before.
    Many of the new tracks veered away from their previous Glam-Rock stylings, but this ballad was more melodic than anything they’d done, heavily influenced by Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. But it led to a problem with the drum sound. Although using brushes dampened the snare, no effect Mick applied took the edge off the bass drum. The hard-hitting sound cut through, even when they had it well down in the mix. They tried several different things, adding a muffler to the microphone, altering its position, and even taking it away completely.
    The drummer’s patience wore thin at the number of digs at his inability to “hit it softer.” Finally the band’s manager called a break and they all left except Don, who scrabbled on his knees, trying to adjust the distance from the pedal to the drum skin.
    Lin grabbed a couple of cushions from the sofa in the recording booth and took them through to the studio. “I couldn’t find a pillow, but these may help.”
    Don jumped at the sound of her voice, knocking his head on the snare which tipped into the high-hat, making it wobble, but she caught it.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Granite’s drummer used a pillow when the sound needed to be gentler, on a ballad, or in a tiny venue. I don’t know if these will work as well, but it’s worth a try.”
    Waving away her apology, Don watched as she curled the cushion up to fit it through the post-hole in the front drum-skin, and arranged it in the centre.
    He played a couple of beats, then asked her to move it so it was touching the resonant head.
    “What’s that?”
    “The drum-skin at the front.”
    She did as he asked. “Presumably because it resonates.”
    “Yep.” He stamped on the pedal with various rhythms. “See how much difference it makes?”
    “Yeah, do you want me to try it against the other side?”
    “Do it.”
    He got her to try a few more things before settling on one he was happy with, which involved both cushions.
    “If they’re still not happy, I could get a proper pillow from the main house.”
    “Nah, they’ll be cool after a break. We all get a bit wound up during these sessions, trying to get it perfect.”
    “Some more than others. Please don’t let on it was me who suggested this.”
    “Why not? Credit where credit’s due.”
    “I don’t want anyone thinking less of Mick. He’s good at his job, but lacking in experience. It’ll all be back to normal when Ken returns.”
    “Don’t sweat it. We know this is the best studio around, and you’re just the icing on the cake.”
    Lin blushed, suspecting he was simply having her on. She’d seen the kind of groupies Rogue attracted, and Don could have had his pick of any of them.
    Mick walked in, his face suggesting he wasn’t happy about returning to the problem. “Do you have a different beater? Or maybe we could tie a mic windshield around it.”
    “Don’t need to. Listen.” Don demonstrated, and Mick was thrilled when the rest of the band came in, clapping him on the back for finding a solution.
    The next hour saw them making real progress with everything coming together as though charmed. The manager put it all down to her being a lucky mascot, not realising the part she’d played.

    Later on, after eating alone, Lin settled on the sofa with a glass of coke, David Bowie’s Aladdin Sane on the stereo and one of her dad’s Modesty Blaise paperbacks. This one had a collection of short stories featuring the female James Bond character and her cockney sidekick, Willie Garvin, Lin’s all-time favourite fictional character. As the best track, Drive-In Saturday, came on, the doorbell rang. Figuring it was probably Corinne checking to make sure she’d spotted the salad in the fridge, she answered it, standing back as Don asked if he might come in.
    She hesitated and he peered past her. “You must be ready to eat. I promise I won’t take much of your time.”
    “Actually, I’ve not long finished.” She closed the book around her bookmark. Despite Peter O’Donnell’s considerable writing talents, she’d struggled to engage with the first short story as her over-tired brain couldn’t cope with the wealth of detail. Even after such a full-on day, she wasn’t relishing the idea of another long, lonely evening of nothing but her own company. Opening the door fully, she gestured for him to enter.
    He stood in the hallway, gazing at the double staircases flanking the balcony linking them. “Blimey. It’s like one of those stately homes me ma used to drag us around when we were kids.”
    Was this his purpose? To snoop at the sort of posh house he could only dream of living in? Actually, that wasn’t fair – if the next two albums sold as well as the second, he’d be close to affording somewhere grand. And although she might expect such behaviour from others in the band, he seemed much more grounded.
    Folding her arms, she watched him flounder at the evidence of such wealth. Because she’d never acted like the stuck-up snobs at the convent, he had no reason to think she had such a luxurious lifestyle. Studying his plain white tee-shirt, black leather jacket and flared blue-jeans, she thought he looked much more comfortable than in the sparkly gear the manager insisted they wore so he could take publicity shots of them during today’s recording. She figured he didn’t enjoy the outrageous sequined outfits and knee-high platform boots.
    He blinked, and she glanced away, realising she’d been staring at him while he studied the house.
    “I’m … er … I just wanted to say thanks for helping me out earlier. I’ve never had to think about being too loud as we always did belters. I’m chuffed because it’ll give us more scope for ballads.”
    “You’re welcome.” She led him through to the lounge where he removed his jacket, draping it over the sofa.
    They sat, his gaze taking in the framed gold disk hanging above the fireplace. “It must be pretty awesome hanging around with Granite. They were my favourite band when I was at school. I probably wouldn’t have taken up music if it wasn’t for them.”
    Making a non-committal sound, she tried to decide if he was merely angling for an autograph – or maybe a free ticket to one of their gigs.
    He shifted his weight, his eyes darting around.
    Surely he didn’t want a backstage pass? Silly question. Of course he did, but she badly wanted to believe it wasn’t his prime motivation.
    “Um … Zac’s good at the softer stuff.” He was fishing.
    “You think? His voice is too gravelly.”
    “But all the girls go wild for it.”
    She tutted. “You’d think he smoked at least twenty Woodbines a day.” The very idea of the pungent cigarettes made her shudder.
    “He doesn’t; he’s quite precious about his instrument.”
    Twitching her lips, she wondered how come her mind was so much smuttier than his.
    He frowned for an instant before catching on and blushing all the way to the roots of his hair. “You know what I meant. You like him, don’t you?”
    She shrugged. “He’s okay, I suppose. A bit too full of himself for my taste.”
    “He really likes you.”
    Scoffing, she folded her arms. “He’d chat up anything in a skirt. Bless him, he needs a constant reminder of how sexy he is. His massive ego needs a lot of stroking.”
    “Really?” Don’s eyes widened for a split second before clouding over. “I bet you think the same about all the guys who come here to record. They must fall over themselves to chat you up.”
    “Strangely, no.” Her tone mocked herself. “Unless they think I can get them a backstage pass to a Granite gig.”
    “You can do that?” His inner fan leapt to the fore, undermining his attempts to play it cool. “’Course you can. Your boyfriend must be chuffed – assuming he’s a fan.”
    “He’s not.”
    His face dropped at the implied confirmation of her relationship status. “He probably prefers the classical stuff your ma’s into.”
    “Nope.” Keeping her face straight took everything.
    “Don’t tell me he’s into jazz or some other old-folks’ shit. Sorry, I mean stuff.”
    Figuring she’d probably made him squirm enough, she spoke quietly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
    “Or middle-of-the-road … you don’t? How come?” A beat. “Sorry. That was rude. But I’m glad. I mean, not for you …” He broke off, squirming.
    “Why did you come here, Don? To make me uncomfortable about being single? Or was it to get a ticket for the next Granite gig? Or better still a backstage pass?”
    His face scrunched up and he stood. “Sorry. I’ve proper cocked this up. I should go.”
    She rose, blocking his exit. “Not until you tell me why you came.”
    His eyes darted around the room and he took a step back, trying to put some distance between them. “I … um … wondered if you could help me again. After being so kind earlier …” He broke off at her relentless glare, but found the courage to continue. “You see, I don’t know anyone else I would trust not to laugh.”
    For some reason, her filthy mind returned to Jack’s little pinky and she bit back the urge to grin. Then she realised the seriousness of her situation, alone in the house with a much older guy.
    Common sense prevailed – Don was a nice guy and if he had evil on his mind like the boy in Helen Reddy’s Angie Baby, he wouldn’t be afraid of people laughing. She narrowed her eyes. “Laugh at what?”

Calamity Chicks 3.1

The third book in the series is Linda’s Lament – here’s a little more about it.

Almost Famous meets 10 Things I Hate About You with elements of Queen's Gambit.
When Jack corners Lin in the playground, she knows exactly what he wants, but she has her own reasons for agreeing. She’s pretty sure Uncle Teddy's daughter never gave those kind of squeezy hugs when she was alive, but if Lin tells anyone, her dad could lose his job. When she finally gets to high school, Jack's back - even more gorgeous and happy to play her leading man in several productions. But the powerful chemistry between Shakespeare's Benedick and Beatrice never makes it off the stage.

By the time she gets to uni, Lin's experienced more sexual awakening than any teenage girl ought to have done, courtesy of touring with her dad’s rock band, a stint at a strict convent school, and an enlightening Spanish holiday. But her biggest education comes from a Hell’s Angel Chapter and a Battle of the Bands contest. Despite kissing a lot of frogs, her prince charming is nowhere in sight, but she can't imagine finding him on a tough engineering degree course.

This cheeky piece of British nostalgia features plucky girls escaping from hairy situations, several handsome hunks, a whole lot of rock bands, and a couple of nasty villains. Feel free to boo and hiss.  

Remembrance Sunday

Remembrance Sunday is held in the United Kingdom as a day to commemorate the contribution of British and Commonwealth military and civilian servicemen and women in the two World Wars and later conflicts. It is held on the second Sunday in November, the Sunday nearest to 11 November, Armistice Day, the anniversary of the end of hostilities in World War I in 1918.
The first UK commemoration of the end of the First World War took place at Buckingham Palace, with King George V hosting a "Banquet in Honour of The President of the French Republic" in the evening of 10 November 1919. The first official Armistice Day events were subsequently held in the grounds of the Palace on the morning of 11 November 1919, which included a two-minute silence at 11am as a mark of respect for those who died in the war and those left behind.
I understand there are several strong feelings about this tradition because for some, Armistice Day was a day for recognising the horrors of war, never to be repeated, and there has been criticism that the focus on veterans and military persons who have died, means the vast majority of the casualties of war (civilians) are forgotten.

Poppies were a common sight, especially on the Western Front. They flourished in the soil churned up by the fighting and shelling. The flower provided Canadian doctor John McCrae with inspiration for his poem 'In Flanders Fields', which he wrote whilst serving in Ypres in 1915. Starting in 1921, the Royal British Legion began selling Remembrance poppies to raise funds for ex-servicemen. Personally. I always buy a poppy and observe the two minute silence both on the 11th and the nearest Sunday. Like many others, the day symbolises the honour of military service, and the debt of gratitude we owe to everyone who fought against those tyrants who would oppress our rights and freedoms. I know there’s a tradition at St May’s Church in Warwick of displaying knitted poppies, and have seen something similar in Nuneaton, however, it seems to have caught on in many towns.

It's no accident that I’m releasing the second Time Doctors boxset, Recovery, on 11/11/25. Throughout the series, great importance is set on multiples of 11 – a power number. This boxset features books 4-6, and the tension and adventure really ramp up as our intrepid team meet dragons, angry dwarves and monsters in their D&D missions, while contending with conspiracies, threatening adversaries and a traitor in their midst.  

Bonfire Night

I was pretty convinced I’d done at least one post about this quaint British custom, originally held on 5th November to celebrate the failure of Guy Fawkes and his cronies to blow up the houses of lords in 1605. These Catholic plotters had intended to assassinate Protestant King James I and his parliament. But several searches on different keywords suggested not.

Early childhood memories of this included being allowed to hold a sparkler and make patterns which magically stayed in the air for split-seconds after you’d moved the fizzling wand. Even though we lived above a newsagent with a tiny backyard, we’d always have a small bonfire (handy for burning all the excess cardboard in the storeroom), and Mum would always finish off the baked spuds in the fire after cooking in the oven first. There’d always be sausages and my personal favourite, baked onions, which always caramelised into yummy sweetness. And topped off with toffee apples - yum!

When the flames reached the effigy of Guy Fawkes, made from old clothes stuffed with crumpled up newspaper, we would chant the rhyme:
      Remember, remember!
      The fifth of November,
      The Gunpowder treason and plot;
      I know of no reason
      Why the Gunpowder treason
      Should ever be forgot!
There’s way more than that, but most people stop there.

As Dad lit each firework, we’d have to stand well back – maybe as much as six feet (it was a small yard), but nothing like as far as the safety-conscious public displays these days. There was always at least one Catherine Wheel, a bunch of rockets in weighted bottles and my favourite, the Roman Candle with it’s gentle display of shooting stars. I was never as keen on the loud, bangy-crashy ones.

Fast forward 30 years to when our kids were old enough to hold sparklers, that was pretty much all we’d buy. It was all about the public displays – for several years we’d spend the day at West Midlands Safari Park – always the last day of the season. We'd spend a while on the fairground rides while they packed all the animals away and then the display would begin - it was always awesome.
For a few years, we walked to a display at the local rugby club, which meant I could quaff a pint of lager while we watched. When the club burnt down (nothing to do with fireworks) and lovely hubby was working out of the country, I plucked up the courage to buy sparklers for the kids and set up a few Catherine Wheels, Roman Candles and rockets. Finally, I got to light the blue touch paper and retire!

Little did I know back then quite how involved I’d get in the Gunpowder Plot, as it became known at the time. My research for the second Time Doctors book Just in Time, features a Dungeons and Dragons campaign set in Warwick Castle. The main character an intrepid female ghost hunter and her team’s quest is to uncover which of the many ghosts haunting the castle was causing untold mayhem. Along the way, the feisty medium taps into a little known Gunpowder Plot backup scheme involving nearby Coombe Abbey and James' daughter Elizabeth.
You can read more in the recently released boxset, Discovery – currently less than 50% of the individual books – scarily good value at only £4.99.

Halloween Special

Everywhere I go is thick with cobwebs and giant spiders – not because I haven’t dusted in, like – forever, but it’s that time again.
*shudders*
I just typed in “houses with giant cobwebs and spiders” into google for some pix illustrating what I’m faced with on my daily 6-mile walk around Coundon.
Remind me NEVER to do that again!

Next Friday, 31st Oct, is known as Halloween in several countries, but so many others have their own versions of a celebration where the veils between the worlds of the living and the dead thin. Any with Pagan heritage will be rooted in Samhain – the whole carved root vegetable lanterns thing, and many of the Latino countries celebrate Dia de los Muertos (Day of the dead). Everywhere, we see the prevalence of ghosts, skeletons and especially pumpkins, paying tribute to the original Celtic harvest festival – the final one of three.

What could be more apt for this time of year than stories featuring a dusty, cobweb-filled attic with a hidden secret, and a haunted castle full of drama and horrors? The third one in this boxset takes you from codebreaking at Bletchley Park to a cozy mystery set around the 1966 World Cup, and features the first real hint of romance. Just what you need for a chilly November, settling in front of the fire with the dark nights drawing in.
In brief, the first three Time Doctors stories will soon be available in a single boxset, and the smart among you will keep an eye out for the super-duper deal to coincide with this special festival.

1970s Comics

Living above my folks’ newsagent shop in the 70s, gave me access to a whole host of comics and magazines. Some of the weekly British comics for girls I remember were: Bunty, Tammy, Jackie, Blue Jeans, Patches, Oh Boy! and Fab Hits. Here’s a bit more detail on the top three.

Bunty was published by D. C. Thomson & Co. from 1958 to 2001. It consisted of a collection of many small strips, the stories typically being three to five pages long. In contrast to earlier and contemporary comics, it was aimed primarily at working-class readers under the age of 14, and contained mostly fictional stories. Well-known regular strips from Bunty include The Four Marys, Bunty — A Girl Like You, Moira Kent, Lorna Drake, Luv, Lisa, The Comp, and Penny’s Place. I've included a cover from the 1990 issue to illustrate how the artwork changed in a couple of decades.

Tammy was published by Fleetway, and at its height, Tammy sold 250,000 copies per week. Every Tammy issue was a collection of stories, usually serial instalments, that lasted three or four pages and often focussed on bleak Cinderella themes: a working class heroine, constantly thwarted hope, and overt violence against girls, usually from an older authority figure. Many stories were full of cruelty and adversity, based on the understanding that girls wanted stories that made them cry. Tammy's merge with Misty brought darker, horror tones, and the merge with Jinty brought more science-fiction. Tammy published 689 issues from 6 February 1971 to 23 June 1984, when it merged with Girl volume 2. Other titles which had merged with Tammy include Sally, June, Sandie and Princess (vol. 2).

Jackie was published by D. C. Thomson & Co. Ltd from 11 January 1964 until its closure on 3 July 1993 – a total of 1,538 issues. It was the best-selling teen magazine in Britain for ten years, with sales rising from an initial 350,000 to 605,947 in 1976. The best-ever selling single issue was the 1972 special edition to coincide with the UK tour of American singer David Cassidy. Jackie published a mix of fashion and beauty tips, gossip, short stories, and comic strips. The latter were usually illustrated with line drawings or posed photographs, especially if the story involved a "reader's true-life experience." Both the comics and the short stories invariably dealt with either romance or family issues.
The centre pages of the magazine usually contained a pull-out poster of a popular band or film star. The magazine featured a section called Silly Star File, a humorous interview with figures from the world of pop music. Jackie became very popular with young teenage girls, not least because of the Cathy and Claire problem page, which received 400 reader letters a week and dealt with controversial issues that were nonetheless relevant to the readership. However, the subjects covered in the column were not reflective of the majority of readers' letters, which focused on sex-related issues — DC Thomson as a result kept the editorial brief, but created a series of help leaflets which they sent to letter writers. In 1974 the NHS made the contraceptive pill free on prescription, and so under editor Nina Myskow, the magazine introduced a Dear Doctor column, which covered what were termed as "below the waist issues".

Calamity Chicks 2.3

Meet the Cast
Here are some of the main players in Chloe's Chaos. Most of them appear in one or more other books in the series.

Chloe Bell
Chloe wishes she’d been bright enough to go to grammar school, but her folks placed more emphasis on her looking good enough to catch a rich husband who would look after her. She makes several poor choices – particularly concerning the guys she dates, resulting in her becoming embroiled in several dangerous situations. 
Tina reckons Chloe has more spunk than all of the boys put together, and that people don’t see courage and spirit hiding under her sweet smile and humble manner.

Tina Meredith
Chloe describes her best friend Tina as a bold courageous adventurer, who turns into a what the Chartwell nasties would call a spotty, four-eyed swot. Although they drift apart when they go to different high schools, Tina returns just when Chloe hits rock bottom and pulls her through a tough patch.

Drew Masters
Something happened to Drew that summer in France. He’d picked up a sophisticated air, talking about drinking espressos in bars. His style had changed considerably, with long, floppy hair and an arty scarf which he kept on until one of the teachers demanded he remove it. His mannerisms were similarly flamboyant, resulting in him earning an unsavoury label. Unfortunately, he didn’t do himself any favours, leading to horrid consequences.
Justin felt threatened by him, suggesting she introduce her fashion consultant. Caught wrong-footed, Chloe played for time. “Drew, this is Justin. And this is my … friend, Drew.” She dropped the “very good” at the last minute, but the tiny pause had Justin raising an eyebrow.
“Boyfriend?” He leaned closer, using a stage whisper. “Or girlfriend?”

Justin Palmer
After a pre-teen crush, Justin becomes Chloe’s love interest for far longer than a girl ought to tolerate. Here’s what happened when her friends met him:
Penny gestured behind Chloe. “Don’t look now, but that boy’s been staring at you for ages.”
Janet immediately looked. “Which boy?”
“The gorgeous blond talking to your mum.”
“This must be the mystery boy Helen’s been keeping away from us. What a dish.”

Janet Jackson
When Janet and her family moved to Warmington, Chloe was the only one at Oakfield Juniors to welcome Janet, and she in turn welcomed Chloe into her family, introducing her to her cousin, Penny, and sister, Helen.

Helen Jackson
Helen was dating Justin when Chloe met him for the second time. Jealous of his attraction to the younger girl, Helen made some nasty accusations, resulting in a traumatic return to Copperford Park. But all’s well that ends well.

Skater Steve
Steve, a speed-skater who’d taken a shine to Chloe the last few times she’d been skating, offered to coach her. He seemed uneasy about the attention as her friends stared unashamed at his athletic body filling the figure-hugging jumpsuit to perfection, and Janet raved about his animal magnetism. But he definitely had an eye for the ladies and getting to know him better revealed some major concerns.

Biker Ben
Ben was what most people would refer to as a “greaser,” turning up at the chemist in overalls encrusted with grime and sweat due to his job as a mechanic. But Brenda reckons, “he cleans up rather well. And he’s devoted to his gran.”
He woos Chloe with gentle, old-fashioned courtesy, and his incorrigible Granny Em says “each of you is exactly what the other needs – you will do some marvellous healing. Unfortunately, his demons and loyalty to a nasty Hell’s Angels chapter put all manner of strain on their relationship.

Posh Paul
Paul had bags of confidence and looked like someone off the telly, with an expensive suit, understated gold jewellery and a sculpted body which said he worked out. After charming Chloe and her friends, treating them to fine wine and delicious delicacies. Chloe agrees to accompany him to posh places, but draws the line at being dolled up like a Barbie doll. Despite his lavish generosity, she spotted “something a bit dodgy about him I can’t quite put my finger on.” She had no clue to the deep-seated resentment he held because of horrible incidents at school.

Athletic Andy
Chloe stumbled straight into a tall, well-built stranger, who righted her and then flashed a warrant card. She tried to rein in her natural reaction to this hunk of manhood whose broad shoulders filled out the stylish leather jacket, but her – admittedly drunken – instincts were to flirt outrageously. Several encounters later she was totally smitten, but he too was hiding a startling secret.