Both fun and challenging, the first draft of Deadly Dough took seven months to write, give or take a few hours. In those months, we went through all the emotions that doubtless hit all fiction writers. Was the plot strong enough? Were the characters memorable? Would readers feel part of the scene? The trials and tribulations are real. Tangible. Tiring. And sometimes tiresome.

To quote literary great Ernest Hemingway, “The first draft of anything is s**t.” If he said that at all. A certain big ginger feline sticking his whiskers in, would mew that those very words equated to a “questionable quote” deserving of intense scrutiny. Said ginger moggy goes by the name of Mr Quince, one adorable, inimitable pub cat who skulks and grins his way through the first two of our WinDarl cosy mystery series.

But enough of that. Back to the matter of manuscripts. In many ways, the first Deadly Dough draft fitted the Hemingway prototype. As a professional editor, cutting, snipping, and smoothing rough edges from 85K words was no water off Wen’s back. (Oops! She’s curling her lip, Billy Idol style, at one of those dreaded clichés.)

A piece of recent advice given was that it’s okay to write the first draft for yourself, but write the second for the reader. That said, still write within the genre. With our debut, we believe we’ve done the cosy mystery genre proud. We’ve ticked all the boxes.

  • A plot featuring amateur sleuths: the intrepid Jon Windup and Wendy May, aka Windy & Darling—who endeavour to crack the case. Check.
  • Quaint, rural setting: Honest Tor, a charming, English village. Check.
  • Quirky, memorable characters: Windy & Darling. Prue Penn. Lady Lucinda Biggin-Smythe. Annie Clegg. Eddie Rutter. Tom Trebilcock. Check.
  • Adorable animal friend(s): Mr Quince, aka Quincy, the inimitable pub cat who snuck into the Noose & Gibbet, took root on a bar stool, and never left. Check.
  • Laughter. Witty banter. Warmth. Good cheer. A lighthearted approach, with little gore and guts. Check.
  • Unpopular victims. Check.
  • A puzzle for readers to solve along the way and, of course, red herrings. Check.

Both fun and challenging, the first draft of Deadly Dough took seven months to write, give or take a few hours. In those months, we went through all the emotions that doubtless hit all fiction writers. Was the plot strong enough? Were the characters memorable? Would readers feel part of the scene? The trials and tribulations are real. Tangible. Tiring. And sometimes tiresome.

To quote literary great Ernest Hemingway, “The first draft of anything is s**t.” If he said that at all. A certain big ginger feline sticking his whiskers in, would mew that those very words equated to a “questionable quote” deserving of intense scrutiny. Said ginger moggy goes by the name of Mr Quince, one adorable, inimitable pub cat who skulks and grins his way through the first two of our WinDarl cosy mystery series.

But enough of that. Back to the matter of manuscripts. In many ways, the first Deadly Dough draft fitted the Hemingway prototype. As a professional editor, cutting, snipping, and smoothing rough edges from 85K words was no water off Wen’s back. (Oops! She’s curling her lip, Billy Idol style, at one of those dreaded clichés.)

A piece of recent advice given was that it’s okay to write the first draft for yourself, but write the second for the reader. That said, still write within the genre. With our debut, we believe we’ve done the cosy mystery genre proud. We’ve ticked all the boxes.

  • A plot featuring amateur sleuths: the intrepid Jon Windup and Wendy May, aka Windy & Darling—who endeavour to crack the case. Check.
  • Quaint, rural setting: Honest Tor, a charming, English village. Check.
  • Quirky, memorable characters: Windy & Darling. Prue Penn. Lady Lucinda Biggin-Smythe. Annie Clegg. Eddie Rutter. Tom Trebilcock. Check.
  • Adorable animal friend(s): Mr Quince, aka Quincy, the inimitable pub cat who snuck into the Noose & Gibbet, took root on a bar stool, and never left. Check.
  • Laughter. Witty banter. Warmth. Good cheer. A lighthearted approach, with little gore and guts. Check.
  • Unpopular victims. Check.
  • A puzzle for readers to solve along the way and, of course, red herrings. Check.

One of the advantages of being one half of a collaboration is bouncing ideas off each other. When writing the first draft, concepts remain objective and both writers give their opinions on what squares and what doesn’t. As Deadly Dough is the first book in a series of … erm, not sure, yet, we devised a workable writing strategy.

After many meetings and ricocheting notions, we came up with a basic plot and started moulding characters. Even wrote the first few chapters together. However, that method wasn’t hitting the highs, so we latched onto another system. Do all the preliminaries together. Then I’d write the bones and Wen would flesh it out.

The first draft concentrates on the setting and plot. Humour and banter are vital. Dialogue, basic. Effectively, it’s a map or guide for what will follow. When it comes to dialogue, Wen’s a natural. I have full confidence in her ability to bring characters to life. We both contribute ideas and mix in an assortment of crazy quirks and red herrings to keep readers playing detective. As I write this blog, Wen has showered me with twists for our second instalment, Fatal Fungus, £30K words in. I’d never have thought of such crookedness. Thank you, writing partner!

Sometimes ideas flow freely. Sometimes they don’t. Deadly Dough pretty much wrote itself, but at times, I found it difficult. Thank goodness for tea and coffee. Once a fan of energy drinks, yukky artificial sweeteners (which are everywhere) don’t agree with my sickly stomach. Screen breaks and fresh air work wonders. Even going to another room helps clears the mind and gives a fresh perspective.

One of the advantages of being one half of a collaboration is bouncing ideas off each other. When writing the first draft, concepts remain objective and both writers give their opinions on what squares and what doesn’t. As Deadly Dough is the first book in a series of … erm, not sure, yet, we devised a workable writing strategy.

After many meetings and ricocheting notions, we came up with a basic plot and started moulding characters. Even wrote the first few chapters together. However, that method wasn’t hitting the highs, so we latched onto another system. Do all the preliminaries together. Then I’d write the bones and Wen would flesh it out.

The first draft concentrates on the setting and plot. Humour and banter are vital. Dialogue, basic. Effectively, it’s a map or guide for what will follow. When it comes to dialogue, Wen’s a natural. I have full confidence in her ability to bring characters to life. We both contribute ideas and mix in an assortment of crazy quirks and red herrings to keep readers playing detective. As I write this blog, Wen has showered me with twists for our second instalment, Fatal Fungus, £30K words in. I’d never have thought of such crookedness. Thank you, writing partner!

Sometimes ideas flow freely. Sometimes they don’t. Deadly Dough pretty much wrote itself, but at times, I found it difficult. Thank goodness for tea and coffee. Once a fan of energy drinks, yukky artificial sweeteners (which are everywhere) don’t agree with my sickly stomach. Screen breaks and fresh air work wonders. Even going to another room helps clears the mind and gives a fresh perspective.

With editing ongoing for our debut, we’re now focusing on promotion and marketing, ready for launch on 28 August. I’m also connecting the bones of Fatal Fungus. The big advantage of a follow-up is familiarity with the main characters, location, and genre. As well as a few two-legged sorts, Mr Quince also gets his paws in again.

The disadvantage of any long series is that writing becomes formulaic. That said, cosy mysteries (like other genres) have tropes, which readers expect. We’re not trying to reinvent the wheel, (Oh no! Another cliché), merely writing a string of cosy mysteries, starring a pair of protagonists with polar personalities who try to solve crimes. I’ve gone “p” mad. Alliteration. Don’t you just love it?

Anyway, I’ll stop the yap, save to say we hope readers will love our characters and stories as much as we loved writing them.

Cheers, people. That’s me away!

Ark 

With editing ongoing for our debut, we’re now focusing on promotion and marketing, ready for launch on 28 August. I’m also connecting the bones of Fatal Fungus. The big advantage of a follow-up is familiarity with the main characters, location, and genre. As well as a few two-legged sorts, Mr Quince also gets his paws in again.

The disadvantage of any long series is that writing becomes formulaic. That said, cosy mysteries (like other genres) have tropes, which readers expect. We’re not trying to reinvent the wheel, (Oh no! Another cliché), merely writing a string of cosy mysteries, starring a pair of protagonists with polar personalities who try to solve crimes. I’ve gone “p” mad. Alliteration. Don’t you just love it?

Anyway, I’ll stop the yap, save to say we hope readers will love our characters and stories as much as we loved writing them.

Cheers, people. That’s me away!

Ark