Come to Grief

An Inside Look

A busy week for me, with work heating up and the sudden but welcomed exertion of pressure on me to complete my manuscript submission package for The Silent Goodbye and send it to the publisher. I am now absolutely determined to have it on its way to the publisher by the end of the day Sunday.

First, a word on Dick Francis. I finished reading Come to Grief yesterday and very much enjoyed it. After the brief dip in the quality of writing in Wild Horses, Come to Grief represents Francis at somewhere close to his best. It seems Sid Halley demands as high standards of his writer as he does of himself as investigator.

What is really special about Come to Grief, however, is that you get the feeling that, in a way he's never done before, Francis is writing about himself, at least that part of him that was a champion jockey. Come to Grief pits Halley, a former champion as a professional, against Ellis Quint, his arch-rival, the champion amateur jockey against whom Halley rode aggressively and often. Despite the fact that they are on opposite sides of a vicious crime, there is a mutual respect between the characters and Francis draws back the curtain on some of the raw, primitive drives that make a jockey a champion. It's quite amazing to read.

Now I'v taken up To The Hilt, a late 1990s book featuring an artist as the protagonist. The nice things about these later books is that I've only read them once or twice over the last fifteen years, meaning I can come at them almost new. I remember very little about them, even less than I do about the earlier books that I have read any number of times.

As for my own deadline, my friend Ross has informed me that he has spoken to his publisher and told him to expect my submission. This is a massively huge favour and one for which I am extremely grateful. Publishers receive thousands of unsolicited submissions each year (many from agents, which is already an advantage I do not enjoy) and it is a minor miracle for such a submission to make it off the slush pile for serious consideration. Ross has provided me at least a step toward that miracle. I will now be an unsolicited manuscript from an unknown writer that might actually be lifted from the pile and given a good read.

No guarantees, of course. The odds are against me. But at least now it's the quality of the writing that will make or break me, not the stuff of miracles. Thanks Ross. I hope to do you proud.

Spoke Too Soon

So maybe, just maybe, I wrote too soon. After reading about 40 pages of Dick Francis' 33rd mystery, Wild Horses, I wrote him off. He's tapering off, I thought. Lost his mojo.

Well, Dick, I apologise. Wild Horses finally found its feet and turned out to be pretty good. And the next novel, Come To Grief, is a cracker. From the first line.

Of course, Sid Halley helps. Halley is probably Francis' best known protagonist and Come To Grief is his third appearance as the centre of attention. Perhaps to shake the lethargy, Francis writes much of his novel as an extended flashback and it works very well. He tells us who the bad guy is from the first page and we're lured into caring deeply about how Halley fingered him as the evil doer and what the consequences will be for Halley himself of pointing the finger at such a well-loved public figure as being responsible for such heinous crimes.

Francis adds a very sympathetic young client and a rebellious teen and he's got a novel that works on many levels.

I wish I could write like that. I wish I could find the time (and the energy) to write at all. I spent today golfing (an up-and-down 18 holes) and finishing up the branch trimming exercise so I'm exhausted heading into a week when work will be just revving up for the new school year.