Well, it's been a manic few weeks. Daddy's Girl, the first of the Jill Bennett trilogy is up and running on Kindle and Smashwords and I've been pleased with the reception and sales. The paperback is almost ready for printing and I'm really looking forward to holding the first copy in my hands.
The second in the trilogy, Come Softly To Me, will soon be up on Kindle and Smashwords. I'm just getting the cover finalised by Laura Shinn a fantastic designer and great to work with,
Working hard now on writing the third in the trilogy, The One Nine Seven Murders. That will complete the introductory trilogy on Jill Bennett but I have plans for regular novellas to feature more adventures of this 1960's police officer. No mobiles, no internet, no computers, just good old fashioned detective work and, of course, her "copper's nose".

I recently visited the Coronation Street tour in Manchester. Not that I watch the programme, you understand. Well, at any rate not since Albert Tatlock got the shock of his life when Ena Sharples told him she was pregnant. (What a story line that would have made).
What was enlightening about the experience was the way some of the visitors were so serious about it. They spoke of the characters and story lines as though they were real. I couldn't help it, it just made me smile whenever I overheard a character talked about like that. I reckon the guide must have thought I was demented as every time he looked at me I was grinning from ear to ear.

I suppose that it is a mark of the writers and production staff's professionalism that they can make it so real to certain people and I certainly wouldn't decry that. All in all it was a most enjoyable experience and I would recommend it if you are ever at a loss for something to do when in Manchester. Just please don't ask for directions to Weatherfield.

Daddy's Girl, the first in my new series of novels is currently doing the rounds in the endless search for an agent. It would be so nice if agents explained why a book
"...is well written but not quite right for my lists..."
The second in the series, Come Softly To Me, is well on the way to completion and the plot for the third book is already starting to form in my head. The stories are set in 1960's Croydon, Just when Coronation Street was going out each week in black and white and starting to find its feet.
The 'Daddy's Girl' in the stories is Jill Bennett, the best detective that the Metropolitan Police never had. It wasn't until 1973 that a woman police officer could prefix her rank with the title 'Detective'.

The trip to Australia was the highlight, so far, of the year. If only the flying time wasn't so long. Thirteen hours to Singapore is a long slog. Mind you, it only seems like yesterday that the same trip, in a Beverly Transport aircraft of the RAF, took more than two days to cover the same ground. I can still hear and feel the droning of the Centaurus engines driving their reverse pitch propellers. Happy days.
We stayed on the Gold Coast in Queensland visiting friends and spent one week in New Zealand. The rebuilding of Christchurch after the devastation of the earthquake was nothing short of inspiring. Wherever  ominous gaps appear where buildings used to be the townsfolk have erected boards covered in colourful graffiti. It certainly works. The optimism you sense seems to be everywhere.

Oh well, back to the job in hand. Now, what was the address of the new agent...

Out with the old - in with the new.

Well, I must say that these last few months have been hectic. I seem to have been rushing from one thing to the next.
Firstly, I've finished the first of my new series, Daddy's Girl, and it's currently with two agents for consideration. It follows Jill Bennett's career as she strives to become a detective in a man's world. Initial feedback has been very positive and I'm very excited about the whole project. The setting of the books is Croydon in 1960 and the Met's Z Division. I've had some terrific responses from their archives department when I was researching. They will certainly be credited when the book comes out.
Next, I've redesigned the website to be more about Richard Cudlow and not just one book. I hope you like it. It's under constant review so I expect changes to be frequent. I'm writing the code from scratch and that is some learning curve so please be patient. Any positive suggestions would be most warmly received. By the way, the new address is www.rcudlow.co.uk
You may not know but my wife is Australian. I think it was the dangly corks on her hat that swept me off my feet. Well, a trip down under is almost upon us and I can't wait. Every morning I'm humming Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport as I prepare for the day.
I'll update on here about any progress towards publication. I've started the next in the series with a working title of Come Softly To Me. It's going to involve a trip back to Croydon to look up some old haunts. Take care and don't forget, there are seven deadly sins, so have a great week!

Short Stories Wanted

If blogging was easy, or so the saying goes, everyone would be doing it. That's as may well be but it isn't the 'blogging' that's hard, there's always something to say. No. The difficult bit is finding the time to update your musings with material that will appeal. Well, I hope that this blog will garner some interest.
I recently approached the radio station broadcasting to our local hospital in Port Talbot. Why, I enquired, are short stories not told to their listeners instead of the constant music. Not expecting a reply I was somewhat taken aback when I received an email from the station engineer at 10 o'clock in the evening. It appears that my idea was received with more than just a little enthusiasm. As a consequence, I'm now part of the team. However, we are short one, not unimportant, ingredient. SHORT STORIES.
I have recorded about half a dozen of mine and we're asking authors in South Wales to submit their stories for possible inclusion in our schedule. The stories need to be somewhere in the range of 2,000 to 5,000 words, although exceptions will be made for good material, of suitable content, we want to try to uplift the patients not fill them with despair and printed single sided one and a half lines spacing.
We are hoping that some authors may like to come to the station to read their own works and be interviewed. As we're a charity there's no payment but it is a way of getting your material heard and appreciated. Patients will be encouraged to submit feedback of stories they like.
I hope this plea will not go unheard and that we can bring to hospital patients something just that little bit different.
Stories should be sent, together with a brief bio, to: Radio Phoenix, Neath Port Talbot Hospital, Baglan Way, Port Talbot, SA12 7BX.
http://www.radiophoenixnpt.co.uk/
I'll keep you posted.

Is it me, or do the people that we elect and trust to do what's best for us seem to be struggling? Whether it's the 'credit crunch', immigration controls, or law and order we can all, I'm sure, spot activities that just don't make sense. It seems to me that the people in power, upon accession to their office, throw away any modicum of common sense they ever possessed. And what a blessing the 'deficit' has been for them. They want to blame all our ills upon it when the solution to most of our 'ills' is staring them in the face.
Here, in Port Talbot, the local Health Trust is in the process of running down a £66million ten year old hospital and people are going to die as a result. The Trust was informed, some time ago by the powers that be, that if the drip drip drip removal of hospital services continued then doctors would no longer be sent their for training and development.
Well, doctors are now no longer sent to the hospital and the Trust is using this to justify wholesale removal of services. This will  force the 50,000 in the catchment area to travel up to 15 miles for A&E and other hospital services. The existing department within the hospital confirms that they have saved lives which would otherwise have been lost had the patient had to travel any further.
Surely, the solution was to re-instate the services that would have ensured that doctors were, once again, sent to the hospital to work. Why is that so difficult? Why is it better to endanger such a large number of people when the hospital could have thrived.
To add insult to injury, the hospital that most would have to travel to, Morriston Hospital in Swansea, are stretched almost to breaking point as it is. Regularly, ambulances can be seen queuing to unload their patients at their A&E with some remaining on board in excess of an hour.
When a similar decision was made about Worthing Hospital in Sussex, 1000's of people took to the streets and the decision was reversed. Do the good people of Port Talbot have to do the same? Can the right decisions only be made after disruption and riot?
Wake up people of Port Talbot! Once you've lost your hospital, you'll never get it back!

Here we go again!

It’s reported that one in five children are to be categorised as having “special needs”. Codswallop. There were about four hundred and fifty children in my last school and about ten of them were regularly caned. Those who advocated the abolition of corporal punishment pointed to this fact as proof that it didn’t work. I say that it did work, because the mere threat of the cane kept the other four hundred and forty of us well behaved. There will always be some who are just ‘naughty’.

When the cane was abolished and children’s behaviour markedly worsened, the abolitionists were horrified and so invented things like ADHD and other excuses, lest they be blamed for the deterioration in behaviour. Misbehaving pupils, and some of the more irresponsible parents, then grabbed this as an excuse for bad behaviour. “It’s not that he(she)’s naughty, they have something wrong with them and they can’t help it.”

If discipline is applied at home from the time a child can recognise their parents voice and children are subjected to what they crave most, the security of a routine, there would be a lot less children being classified as ‘in need’. The only thing they’re really in need of is proper parenting.

I had cause to visit a cemetery recently and, as I always do, I paused by the section for children. Don’t get me wrong, it is beautifully laid out and attended to but at the same time it is a very sad place.

I was reminded of Barbara, an ancestor of mine who died in 1864 at the ripe old age of 98. We found an obituary for her in the local press. It stated...

“...her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren numbered 145, 89 of whom were still living...”

That meant that during her lifetime, Barbara attended, or was aware of, the deaths of 56 children. Imagine having to go through that. It’s not something, thankfully, that we have to bear these days. There is a beautiful children’s cemetery because we don’t have to.

That’s it for now, take care and I’ll be back soon.

What on earth has happened to the weather? Last month we invested in a jacuzzi for the garden. Nothing too fancy just a blow-up bath holding two hundred and ten gallons of hot, bubbling water. The day after we installed it the temperature (of the water) was a very pleasant 42 degrees and in we jumped. Marvelous! A very warming and pleasurable experience.
Then it rained, and it hasn't stopped raining long enough for us to use it again. Before you start, I'm sure it wasn't our fault that it did rain but it seems an awful waste of chemicals and water. Watch this space...if the sun comes out I'll probably be calling it the best thing we did.
Yippee! We've just booked a return to St Lucia in the Caribbean. Well, it's one of the stops on a cruise. I can't wait to get down to the land registry there and re-commence enquiries about great great great great great Grandads will. When he died in 1797 part of his estate was plot 29 in St Lucia comprising a plantation house and about 200 acres. No-one knows what happened to it. They weren't impressed when I tried to identify my birthright in January. Ah well, at least I know right is on my side. I hope they don't think all Britons are as eccentric as I appeared to be. Never mind, and as my old Gran used to say, musn't grumble.
Take care and come back soon.