Britain's Got Talent - Phase One

I've just had coffee with a friend of mine. You know, the one that entered 'Britain's Got  Talent'.

It was lovely to hear how the whole thing went. Let me share a few little nuggets with you.

The queues had already formed before friend and their family turned up for the audition.

The weather was reasonably clement, so queueing up for the required two and a half hours did not present too much of a problem.

The queue. A be-fezzed magician who constantly got the card tricks wrong, a darts player in a black suit with diamante lapels (who would end up singing 'Delilah') a couple of gay punks with mohican haircuts who kissed and cuddled all the way to the entrance just to keep warm.

And in the background a huge truck with a laser display showing Les Mis the movie clips and ads for BGT.

The entrance? To what? Well it turned out that they were in the gym hall of a county cricket ground. And the whole place was full of artistes, all waiting to strut their stuff.

Drag artists, girl bands, more dart players and my friend.

Cameras everywhere, but no Simon, no Amanda...of course not. My friend had done the research. These were the preliminary heats. Thousands whittled down to an ultimate five hundred or so.

Interviews were done, songs were sung and all before the real thing. My friend was in group F, and was the last of the day to go up.

Room 21. The President's Suite.

Diamante Dart Player was in and out in ninety seconds...friend was in for about six minutes. And it seemed to go well. LA guy behind the desk was very encouraging.

So, the waiting begins.

I know nothing. I will keep you informed.

If friend makes it to the next stage I'll be sure to tell you - every vote counts, so we'll be counting on you!

Slow Poison - A Foreign Language?

Some of you dipping into my blog may not be native English speakers. I lived on the Continent for a quarter of a century, so I have learned to choose my words well, and hopefully manage to communicate my thoughts so that everyone can understand.

Recently an American publisher interested in my work commented on my use of dialogue and slang that might render some of the book difficult for the US market to understand.

Oh heavens! I thought I'd cracked it language wise!

So...if you have the chance to have a read and let me know what you think and whether you can make head or tails of my scribblings, I would be most grateful.

Check out chapter one and send me your thoughts.

Cas

Slow Poison Chapter One

Two Hundred Shades Of Gray

Quite a week!

The week began with a visit to my dentist. She's an old school friend, and there's nothing better than being strapped to a chair with someone's fingers and implements holding the mouth open while being regaled with stories about everyone we ever had in common.

I missed out on an old boys' reunion dinner last week (went to a blues gig instead...) so hearing about those people from the past was entertaining and a little reassuring too.

If any of you have been to a reunion  you'll know what I mean. For me it was two hundred guys in grey suits who it was hard enough to identify in school uniforms, let alone grey suits.

I've only been to one. I'd just moved back to the country after a quarter of a century abroad. At school I'd been the mouse. The shyest guy in the world. Not any more.

So, I hatched a plan. The best way (I thought) to announce my presence to this grey room would be from the stage. So, I put myself forward as guest speaker. They jumped at the chance. So...free dinner, great seat, Cas the show-off got to speak for twenty minutes. Raised some laughs too. Sat next to the bishop, the headmaster and various other luminaries.

I had fun gazing out across the sea of grey...disbelieving faces... 'Is that REALLY Cas Greenfield?'

Then the hall door burst open! Puffy Waldron! Newted as a Pea...drunk as a lord! 'Effing Hell - it's Effing Greenfield! How are you, me old mate?'

Well, I was just fine. I always liked old Puffy. Beat off the bullies a few times for me. A good mate.

We all finished off the evening in fine form, most of them still unsure that it was really me.

I gathered some of them up at the end of the evening and delivered the drunken bodies back to their partners. I don't drink, so driving around was another chapter in another book.

But I didn't go this year. Bumped into Pete Barnes. 'How was it?' 'Food was alright...' 'Puffy?' 'No, he wasn't there...I didn't know a soul...'

Oh dear - the sea of gray!

The filling was successful, I left the dentist's chair with some more anecdotes. Thus, my busy week began with a numb jaw and a head full of bits.

Coffee with the BGT friend later today. Now, that should be fun.

Watch this cavity.

ps; You can check out Slow Poison's opener by clicking this link; Slow Poison - Read The Opening Here

Britain's Got Talent - First Impressions...

I know someone who is going for a Britain's Got Talent audition!

Of course, I'm not at liberty to divulge any information whatsoever on pain of death, but I'll be curious to hear how the experience was over a cup of coffee in the near future.

I have no idea what their chance of getting anywhere will be - a naked knife-throwing dog act on stilts may not be to everyone's liking - but hey, it's not me that's entering!

Their act will be a pure and simple performance, letting the personality shine through in a gentle way. No frills, no fireworks - just ninety seconds of something sweet and gentle. Ninety seconds! That's all the time they will get to impress. The wait beforehand could be hours, but those ninety seconds will be vital. When I know more, I'll let you know.

The skill of impressing in a short space of time is what we all strive for I think. For me it has to be the opening of a book. Those first 600 words or so are vital. It is apparently just about the most an agent will read before moving on to the next book. A sobering thought!

So, over the months, I have been paring back my books and honing as much as I can to get it right. At the moment, I'm more than happy with the opening of Slow Poison. I believe it sets the tone, draws the reader in and hopefully will propel you forward into reading more.

The old cliché comes to mind. You only have one chance to make a first impression.

Not strictly true in these days of ePublishing, but you get the picture.

So, my friend at BGT had better get it right.

I hope I did...

Let me know what you think. You can check out Slow Poison's opener by clicking this link; Slow Poison - Read The Opening Here

ps. I'm due for that cup of coffee any day, so I'll let you in on the BGT juicy bits...

Remember, remember...Bang Bang; a slight amendment...

Another day, another celebration looms. Since the invention of fireworks in China countless years ago, each civilisation has found the need to let off those big bangers from time to time. Now, whether that's November 5th (celebrating the Gunpowder Plot in the UK) or the Dutch New Year, a firework will always do the trick.

And for those deprived of the Catherine Wheel in their local supermarket - there's always the thrill of a real war.

Me? Can't stand the bangs. War? I lean toward the John and Yoko camp. Love, peace, understanding and a quiet night in...

If this feels like a meagre posting, it was one of those early morning doodles. 

A few little additions: Our town is holding its annual 'Good Will Evening' in a few weeks time. The theme this year is 'Love and Peace'. It's one of those places. A little bit Glastonbury, a little bit Stonehenge. It's where we have our vintage shop, it's where I come from. Stroud just has to be the centre of the known universe...

One of our sons works in the shop and has been asked to dress up in our finest 60s gear to publicise the evening. So it's either Beatle jackets from the Help! era or an original kaftan with love beads and Jim Mcguinn glasses. 

Our little corner of the world is one of the greenest places on the map, hosts every kind of protest group going (Queen's Mr May and his badger activities for one...) And one of our many musicians, Dave Ireland, has also just recorded a gentle song about war. I've added a link. The song is titled A Shropshire Lad 

It has to be time for a little peace...

So, we'll be buying ear-plugs for the dog, practising our peace signs and hiding under the blankets...

(if you read Slow Poison - you'd never imagine that I was such a scaredy cat!)

ps - he plumped for the Jim McGuinn look