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My choice for this week is the actor and director Clint Eastwood.
 Clint with his steely-eyed squint and trademark scowl I saw him first in his directorial début, the thriller Play Misty For Me, a somewhat nasty film but also a scarily realistic portrait of a man completely out of his depth. After that I was hooked and went on to watch as many of his films as I could get my hands on. I even had a full-sized poster of “The Man With No Name” on my wall at some point.
His career has been incredibly varied, from first coming to prominence in the TV series Rawhide, to being nominated for the Academy Awards 11 times and winning 5 Oscars (so far).
He has a reputation for playing roles which are often a portrayal of justice, mercy, suicide, and the angel of death, and the pacing in his films is said to be “unrushed and relaxed” with an almost noir-ish feel.
 With Richard Burton in "Where Eagles Dare" It would be impossible to list all his achievements here, so I’ll limit myself to a few of my favourites. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, Where Eagles Dare, where he almost single-handedly destroys the Wehrmacht(!), High Plains Drifter, In the Line of Fire (with the excellent John Malkovich), Unforgiven, and Million Dollar Baby (the last two for which he won Best Picture and Best Director).
Clint is now 81 years old, and let’s face it, the guy ages well!
 Older now
As a writer I’m often asked what is my favourite book or favourite film which is almost impossible to answer. There are so many good books and good films to choose from, new as well as classics, but I’ve narrowed it down to the one book and the one film which have had the most profound influence on me.
Book
The Lord of the Rings trilogy by J R R Tolkien. I fell in love with the story (and with Aragorn, a real hero!) when I was 13. Since then I’ve re-read it countless times, and always discover something new in it: a detailed description I may have read too lightly, the beauty of Tolkien’s poetry – something I’ll admit to skipping occasionally because it slows down the action. Or even a feeling I didn’t have last time I read it.
My favourite bit is when the Rohan princess Eowyn and the hobbit Merry slay the Witch-king of Angmar, the Lord of the Nazgul. I cry every time I read it, it’s just so desperate, a last-ditch attempt at saving a man they both have the deepest affection for, Theoden King. Sadly in the film adaptation they rather rushed this part and also skimmed over the important plot point that the Witch-king cannot be killed by a man. It takes the combination of a woman and a half-ling to bring him down. They’re not helpless despite not being big brawny blokes. I like that. All power to their elbow etc.
Film
Casablanca, a beautiful love story and an excellent portrayal of a cynical, disillusioned man who comes good in the end and discovers that some things are worth fighting for. That he must choose sides and stop sitting on the fence. It’s a story about doing the right thing even if it means sacrificing what means most to you in the world. Rick gives up Ilsa because he loves her. 
She would willingly leave her husband for him, a good and honest man, but Rick knows she could never live with herself if she did, so he makes the decision to end their affair. He chooses not to sully their love with the taint of betrayal and instead treasure what they did have, saying, “We’ll always have Paris.” It’s both sad and uplifting.
And that last line, “Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship”, just gets me every time!
So, what are your favourites?
A couple of weeks ago on my blog, I mentioned a play in which the ending had been disappointing, and I then went on to talk about a book where the ending had left me less than satisfied. Today I thought I’d put the spotlight on a TV programme - Homeland, which finished last Sunday.
On Monday morning, the twitterverse was alive with opinions about how satisfactory/unsatisfactory the ending had been. The impression I got was that the majority felt that the ending worked, although a vocal minority felt let down by its inconclusive nature.
 Poster of Homeland, courtesy of Wikipedia The problem for the producers was that they had to leave a sufficient number of unanswered questions for there to be a sequel, and ideally a sequel with the same central characters. The potential profit from a second series was too great for them to let it all end in a single series, even though the Israeli series from which Homeland was taken was completed in one series.
I thought that the TV company got away with it. More than that, I thought they got away with it in style. Amazingly, I found myself willing Brodie to go through with the mission to blow up the Vice President and the top people in the US government, who’d been so cleverly forced into a single room, but at the same time hoping that he wouldn’t blow them up as that would mean that he died, too, and I liked him.
It was a tribute to the quality of the acting and writing that I felt the two conflicting emotions at the same time.
A happy compromise was found - Brodie detonated the explosive vest, but the detonator didn’t go off. The daughter phoned and the moment passed. A second series could go ahead.
And what a basis from which to start the second series! Two central characters who engage our emotions, but in whom we can’t trust. Has Brodie been turned back into a goodie who’s going to double-cross Abu Nazir? Can we trust Carrie, in the grip of her bi-polar disorder, to see things as they really are? And what about the missing video that Brodie had made to be played after his death? Did he get it back from Walker after he’d killed him, or didn’t he? Did Walker take it, at all, or did someone else take it? Gripping stuff.
 Damian Lewis & Clare Danes The end of the first series left us hanging and raised as many questions as it answered. I went along with that. Others didn’t, I know.
What about you? What did you think of the ending of Homeland?
 Christopher Lee as Dracula. Courtesy of Wikipedia At first glance, this might seem an unusual choice. In fact, at second glance, too!
Having scathingly rejected some of the recent choices of my Choc Lit colleagues (gruesome; too waxed; in need of shears), I asked myself when was the first time that I remember feeling emotionally moved (note my delicacy of expression) by a member of the opposite sex (pun intended - perhaps not so delicate this time). The answer actually surprised me - it was when I saw Christopher Lee as Dracula in the Hammer horror film.
I was very young at the time, and I found the film - which began with drops of the reddest blood ever falling on to the top of a stone coffin - very scary. Yes, definitely scary, but something else, too. The moment that Christopher Lee/Dracula descended the wide staircase, tall, cloaked in black, confident and masterful, I’d felt a frisson of excitement run through me (OK, it’s a cliché, but if the cliché fits …).
I was a weeny bit concerned when Dracula’s interest in maidens appeared to centre solely on the neck area, and I was extremely concerned when I saw what he did with teeth that would have cost him a fortune at my dentist’s had they needed filling!
After my best friend and I had left the cinema, both of us giggling nervously, I explained my contradictory emotions to her over a coke float. Fortunately, she knew about everything, and she was able to tell me that a full carnal relationship had taken place before the exsanguination. The camera had been switched off at that moment.
That was all I’d needed to hear, and I went to bed that night, happily dreaming about the bit before, and conveniently forgetting what came after.
 Publication day - it’s always lovely to see your baby taking its first faltering steps into the real world, isn’t it? Of course, we all hope those faltering steps will soon shape up into great, long strides as readers decide yes - this one looks interesting, I’ll buy it!
When I first saw this lovely cover, I was delighted. I’d imagined my heroine Cassie looking exactly like this - pretty but not goddess-gorgeous, with a cheeky grin and a good-natured expression on her nineteen-year-old face. Cassie is no fool, but she’s inexperienced in the ways of the world and of men, so she has a lot to learn in the course of this story.
I enjoyed taking her on her voyage of discovery, and I’m hoping readers will enjoy it, too.
I have spent most of this afternoon being interviewed by a local publication - which got me remembering. Before I was published, I longed for the day when someone would be paid to listen to me wittering on about myself for hours, interjecting every now and again with admiration on my lucidity and clarity of thought.
Now, of course, I know that interviews are mostly spent trying to think of new ways to answer the same questions over and over again - although good interviewers (this afternoon’s was case in point) always like to try to think of new questions to ask, new perspectives on a subject.
But, just sometimes, I wish they’d throw out the rule book, stop asking me where I get my ideas from, and ask something more random.On my own blog, when I do interview-type thingies, I like to try asking questions like ‘what’s your favourite cheese?’ and ‘if you were a T shirt slogan, which would you be?’
Which question have you always longed to asked by an interviewer? And, no, ‘Have you always been this gorgeous?’ doesn’t count…
 It would be Stilton. Actually. Nutty and creamy, with mouse-teeth marks.
I think I just fell in love… with my book cover!
When I wrote Up Close, I pictured the characters in my head, their feelings, the things they did, places they went, and all these thoughts featured heavily when I was imagining what the cover of my book would look like. Or, to be perfectly honest, when I was fantasising about how it would look…
So I was surprised when I saw the first visuals from Choc Lit, because it was nothing like I’d imagined. It made me realise that, although I’d dreamt about covers a lot, it was all very vague, just something to do with the Norfolk coast where the novel is set.
But the cover made me go “Wow!”, and I take my hat off to the talented cover artist who was able to put this author’s nebulous thoughts into a visual format. It can’t have been an easy task.
I love the colours, the contrast between the dark foreground and the grey-blue winter sky, the rickety groyne leading into the unknown and creating a sense of distance in the image. And I love the lone sea gull perched on a post, haughtily surveying its kingdom: the untamed nature in this corner of the country.
The brooding atmosphere with the curling mist speaks of secrets yet to be revealed and hints at hidden dangers. And for both Lia and Aidan there are plenty of secrets and dangers to do battle with.
The best thing, of course, is that it has my name on it. Nothing can quite describe how I felt when I saw my name in print, and the knowledge that my first novel containing my words and my imagination will soon be on display for all to see and read if they want to (a scary thought, actually…).
So, in December I’ll be up close with Up Close (sorry, couldn’t resist!) when I finally get to hold the physical book in my hands. Can’t wait!
Come on, admit it. We’re all suckers for a man who makes us laugh, and if he’s got an accent then we are absolute gonners. So, ladies (and some gentlemen) today I present you with
Mr Ed Byrne
I know he looks just a touch like a less-cynical Jarvis Cocker, and he describes himself as looking like ‘a twelve year old that’s led a really hard life’ but, you have to admit, funny and Irish? Double whammy. And he’s cute too. I do have a weakness for men who wear glasses, but I rather suspect this is because I look so much better to them when they don’t have their glasses on. Plus, it’s admitting to a weakness ‘hey look, I don’t have perfect 20:20 vision!’ Rather than wear contacts, Ed allows his imperfection to add character to his face, and that’s another ‘plus’ for me in the man department - not perfect.
Well, I don’t want competition, do I?
Gosh, how unusual for me! Actually, in my family I’m one of the punctual ones. When certain names come up on my phone’s display, I know that the opening lines will be, “We’re running a little bit late…” I’m making mental lists of things to be done before various family members visit at the weekend, and after all the making beds and cleaning bathrooms there’s a rather guilty, “Your office still needs tidying, Kate. You can’t see the floor any more. You’ve got piles of paper that have been there for four years. That bag of promo stuff from the RWA conference has been there since you flew home…in 2005. There could be a new civilisation under it. The last time you tidied it was when Spike let a mouse loose in there and was too lazy to catch it.” Which reminds me, there might still be a mouse in the dining room that I really ought to rescue…
So it got me thinking about that Einstein quote: “If a cluttered desk signs a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” My desk isn’t terribly cluttered at the moment–just the iMac, keyboard, mouse, headphones, lip balm, tape measure, calculator, camera, video camera, piggy bank, CDs, emery board, empty tissue box, two fluffy cats, a paint chart… you know, all the essentials. And the only reason it’s that tidy is because I had a photographer round the other day and they always want to take pictures of the stuff you haven’t tidied.
So anyway, what I was going to say was…er…oh yes! I might not have tidied my room (I mean, my office, I’m not seven, and let’s not get started on the state of my bedroom floor) since 2005, but I have written quite a lot of books since then. Surely there must be some correlation? I agree with Einstein. Cluttered minds come up with the best stuff!
Now, if someone would send a sherpa, I need to navigate past this pile of paperwork…
 Last week, Christina Courtenay and I helped on the Choc Lit stand at the London Book Fair, and Juliet Archer joined us for a while on Wednesday. For anybody who doesn’t know, the LBF is a huge trade fair, currently held in Earls Court, London. Lots of deals are done and rights are sold, there. The function of we authors was to man the stand when the others were in meetings, handing out chocolates and Choc Lit catalogues, taking the cards of people who’d like to know more and writing down details.
I also drank a lot of peppermint tea, but that wasn’t mandatory.
 Christina Courtenay For someone who spends much of their working life on their own in a room, creating a fictional world, to be in the middle of the book fair in proper office clothes is quite a culture shock. But I really enjoyed the buzz and the fact that I was doing something different. And we met all kinds of people - a Scotsman in a kilt with a whoopee cushion tucked behind his sporran (to entertain kids, apparently), a man who said he had the cure for cancer, and agents and publishers of all nationalities.
Here’s Christina, with her bowl of chocolates. (I’m afraid we had to keep testing them - they were milk chocolate hearts in pink foil - just to check that nobody would be harmed as we gave them out.
 Sue Moorcroft And wow were my feet aching at the end of three days!
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