ora

A copy of the uncut and unedited version of Invisible is now part of the Oxford University Research Archive (ORA).

If you want to view the file, follow the QR code above on your mobile phone or head for http://tinyurl.com/6ffu598.

The text in the archive is the self-same that I completed on the 24th April 2006. As I wrote the first draft during the preceding years, I edited what I had written each day when I got back home from working as a cataloguer at the Oxford Union Library. The original material would be typed into a Sharp organiser (most of the first draft) or an HTC Vario (the last couple of chapters) while I travelled on the 18 Bampton to Oxford bus.

During 2006/07 I rewrote the whole first draft and eventually decided to cut about 10,000 words--after having discussed the typescript with Keiren Phelan of Arts Council South East and Frank Cottrell Boyce. Although I think cutting was the right choice, it's nice to have the chance to make the uncut version available.

bampton library read-in

I was honoured to be asked to take part in the read-in last Saturday at Bampton library, one of 20 that Oxfordshire County Council wants to close.

Supporters gathered in the Market Square before walking along Rosemary Lane to the seventeenth-century building that houses the library and meeting room. The building, along with the neighbouring houses and cottages, featured in the recent TV series Downton Abbey.

Kirsty Young started the event off by expressing wholehearted support for the read-in and saying how much libraries had meant to her when she was a child.

The read-in took place in the library meeting room and people dropped by throughout the morning to listen to the invited authors or to read a favourite poem or a passage from a cherished book. Meanwhile the library itself was open for business. Many books were borrowed and new members signed up.

Kirsty Young began the readings with a children's story and was great with the kids.

The guest writers included local authors Mary Hoffman (a veteran supporter of save-library campaigns), Linda Newbery, Candida Lycett Green, David Wiseman and Spooks writer Richard McBrian.

It was lovely to see Candida Lycett Green. In 2002 I reviewed her wonderful book Over the Hills and Far Away for the TLS. The book combines a celebration of the English countryside with memories of her father and mother, Sir John and Lady Betjeman. Candida wrote the book after making a journey through parts of England on horseback to raise money for a cancer charity--she had not long before been treated for breast cancer.

My readings were a short extract from Invisible about the rural landscape around Bampton and a poem by the Cuban writer and journalist Yndamiro Restano called Prison. Restano was imprisoned in the early 1990s for what he had written. The poem was taken from the anthology Another Sky, which is published in association with English PEN (http://www.englishpen.org), the organisation that campaigns for writers of conscience who are imprisoned or censored around the world.

I wanted to make the point that freedom of speech and an appreciation of how vital books are to our wellbeing, our education and to our culture are supposed to be prized in this country and how incomprehensible it is that libraries are being targeted for closure.

oxford times interview, our book reviews online, oxford writer

One or two new pieces have been published about Invisible and StreetBooks over the last fortnight.

Yesterday, the interview I did with Gill Oliver of the Oxford Times came out (http://bit.ly/eSC4ZP) and earlier in the week an interesting review of Invisible appeared on the Our Book Reviews Online website (http://bit.ly/dKrXkc). The piece was entitled Dark Romance, which I liked.

There were also three articles in the January issue of the Oxford Writer (newsletter of Writers in Oxford: http://www.writersinoxford.org) that mentioned Invisible and StreetBooks.

The first, in the Book News and Reviews section, drew attention to the 'beautiful cover' (above), which was designed by my friend Andrew Chapman (also a member of WiO). The piece concluded: 'A story of love, the forging and loosening of relationships and a strong sense of place pervade Invisible and its inner nature has been beautifully caught in Andrew's cover.'

The other two articles--a report on my talk to WiO, Bespoke Publishing, the Way Forward?, and the front page story, Making Our Own Luck--were linked.

In the former, Dennis Hamley wrote:

'Frank looked back eight years, when he was planning his second novel Invisible, and an encounter with an established novelist who told him, "You are a writer. Publishers are publishers."

'Frank strongly disagreed, realising that he wanted to be a writer-publisher, and started the long process of setting up his own small press. So began a long apprenticeship in learning new technology, through visits to the London Book Fair, The Bookseller and papers on the Web...

'Retrenchment by the big publishers has long passed a reasonable level and the number of new ways to find publication, helped by the new technology, has burgeoned.'

As a novelist and a tutor of creative writing I am fascinated by the opportunities that new technologies, such as e-books and print on demand, offer writers.

The lead article in the Oxford Writer drew on my talk and those by other members, including Andrew Chapman and Mary Cavanagh, to start a debate among the membership on the possibility of collective publishing--for both new work and back-list titles.

This debate is timely and one that I shall watch with great interest.

snowdog

Bright and beautiful day. Colder too, although it's now hard to remember what it was like when it snowed before Christmas.

As a reminder, here's the dog.

first day of spring

First day of spring might be a bit of an exaggeration but last Sunday was the first time I'd felt that spring was in the air since the new year began with the Winter Solstice. (No, I'm not a Pagan but taking the solstice as the end of the old year and beginning of the new does seem good sense. Perhaps I am a Pagan.)

The sunlight on Sunday was just that bit richer than it has been and when you were out of the wind there was real warmth in the sun. Even when you were in the wind there was something not so defeating about the cold.

I went for a long cycle ride down towards the Thames, along the Great Brook (into which all the streams in the valley flow before it reaches the Thames at Shifford Lock) and round to Mount Owen (road, telegraph poles and valley, above).

The photo of the trees and water shows an unusual feature that always looks as if it's the remains of an old moat, although there is nothing to suggest it is on the OS map. I did read, though, in the Victoria County History that the Romans settled close to the Thames and not where the present village stands. Somehow moat and Roman settlements got all mixed together in my imagination and were then stirred into the little story about the Leper's Tower towards the end of Invisible. (The leper bit, incidentally came from a tale about Roche Rock in Cornwall, told to me by a family friend when I was a boy.)

The other photo shows a reed bed that the local thatcher grows. Nowadays relatively few houses in Bampton are thatched but many more used to be in previous centuries. Our little terrace replaced a row of thatched tenements, with earth floors and deep roofs that came down to a low stone wall. The rebuilding took place in the 1880s--late compared to many parts of the country. But then Bampton time does seem different to time in the rest of the world.

espresso, rain, end of first week

Nearly the end of the first week back at work. Great to see everybody and talk about the holidays.

But what a morning! The heaviest rain I've seen for ages with these huge puddles along the kerbs, which buses and drivers just thump through. When I walked along St Giles' just now this black Golf screamed down the side lane and soaked three people. Don't get me started.

Meanwhile, in Greens now, sipping a single espresso (the doubles start when the year gets really hectic--next week probably). Jazz-funk in the background, warm atmosphere...

Yeah, this week's been OK.

happy new year!

Well, according to our local MP, David Cameron, the road ahead is a tad uncertain. At least the bike's ready, even if I'm not!

Happy New Year!!!

bull

Our new friends' house was darker than expected and there was no sound of guests enjoying themselves. But then the door was thick.

We rang the bell, which mercifully didn't work. A tiptoe round the side and a peep in the kitchen confirmed that no party was being held tonight.

Back home, after wandering through the village all dressed up, we looked at the invitation. Yep, tomorrow night. I blame all these bank holidays. No idea what day of the week it is.

Meanwhile, in response to a request, here is the bull.

Hoping for my first bike ride in ages tomorrow.

kelmscott

An enjoyable late walk to the west of Kelmscott--starting and ending at the Plough; passing the manor; turning onto the Thames path; heading to Eaton weir (no sign of the old flash weir that used to be there up to the 1930s, nor of the inn that was destroyed by fire--'in tragic circumstances' according to the National Trail Guide--just some rather picturesque moorings and a warehouse); then to Buscot lock; up to the Lechlade road and back to Kelmscott for a pint of Marston spiced ale.

The light was fading, even at 3 pm, and there was a mist from the melting snow--this was yesterday. The snow, though, was still very much there, in contrast to today, when, in Bampton at least, all but the deeper traces have gone.

The roads to Kelmscott hadn't been salted and were treacherous despite winter tyres. These tyres are especially good when it's icy but the slush seems to clog them and they slip a bit. There was one abandoned car with its bonnet smashed in and at the pub people talked about other accidents over Christmas.

William Morris' manor was all shut up. I tried to take a photo over the wall but all I got were shrubs with one or two glimpses of the building behind. In the paddock before you got to the manor there was giant bull--red Devon, perhaps. It seemed placid enough.

It was when the Downton Abbey filming started that I last posted a photo of the Plough. That was over six months ago and it was spring. In a way it seems a lifetime away because it was then that I was phoned about family problems that I'd no inkling of before then. Over the summer and into autumn the news got worse and worse--unbelievably so. There was a flare-up over Christmas, as is always said to be the way at this time of year. Some people are their own worst enemies--and I suppose one will never change them, no matter how much one hopes they might change. So sad to think of someone so wilfully isolated and destructive.

Now off to drinks at a house we've always wanted to see inside. How nosy!