Heather Burnside's Blog, page 12

For this blog post I thought I would share a short piece entitled, ‘The Room’:

I step inside. The faint smell of stale body odour still lingers in the air. I almost trip on a pile of discarded clothes and push them to one side with my foot. Then I clear a pathway through the rubble as I trudge across the room. So many memories, so many years.

The décor is outdated. I recall how resistant you were to change, or was it just the inconvenience of it all? So we agreed to live with it for now. After all, who sees the upstairs anyway? And some things just aren’t worth arguing about. Looking at it now, devoid of your personality, the clichéd borders make me cringe with embarrassment. They seem incongruous with the rock star posters.

The TV and games console remain in the corner. Both latest models; they act like a beacon against a murky backdrop. In the other corner are your guitars, lined up on a rack. I have a vision of you strumming away; you love your music.

I stand over your desk peering through your knick-knacks. Each one has its own tale; favourite books, a keyring and a passport sized photograph. I’m surprised you’ve still got the Easter egg I bought you. Your eclectic taste in books amuses me: Terry Pratchett’s ‘Night Watch’ alongside ‘Medical Embryology’ and ‘Help, I’m Trapped in my Duvet’.

Then I spot the messy bed. Oh my God! There’s still an imprint of you amongst the muddled up bedding. It almost reduces me to tears.

‘Come on, get a grip,’ I tell myself, ‘This room won’t sort itself.’ So I set to work. I’m determined to tidy so the room can be freshly decorated. Only a few weeks now till you return on your university holidays.

—————–

This short piece is actually based on my son’s room but it was inspired by thoughts of my daughter leaving home to go to university. She’s my youngest and I’m afraid I’ve got a severe case of empty nest syndrome at the moment.

I based this short piece on my son’s room because it’s usually the messiest. I was standing in his bedroom looking around on a Monday morning after he had returned to university, picking up his dirty washing, as you do. Then I began thinking about what it would be like when my daughter left home.

However, I wrote this a few weeks ago and, credit where credit’s due, he got his act together and had a good clear out so that we could redecorate. So now it’s down to me. Once I’ve launched my novel, I’m out of excuses, and it’s on with the dreaded decorating. Oh how I hate all the disruption, but those bedrooms have got to be tackled.

I must add that my kids’ bedrooms are in no way a reflection of the rest of my home. Unlike my kids I am very tidy and organised. After years of trying to get them to keep their rooms tidy, and failing miserably, I’ve found the best way to deal with the problem is just to shut the bedroom doors.

—————–

On a couple of occasions when I have been looking at books on either Amazon or Goodreads, I have noticed bad reviews based on the fact that the books contained a lot of swearing. One of the  reviews was for a book that had received predominantly good reviews, and this particular one star review was based solely on the fact that the book contained bad language. There was no mention of the rest of the content.

As an author, it irks me when people leave a one or two star review based solely on the bad language in the book, which, let’s face it, probably makes up no more than 5% of the content. What about the rest of the book? Does it not matter that the author has toiled for months, or even years, to produce that book? And if the book is otherwise excellent, is that overlooked in that puritanical reader’s quest to banish all bad language from books?

The type of approach described above causes me a little concern because my own books contain more bad language than most. Although I haven’t yet had a bad review because of the swearing in my books, I expect that it is likely to happen sooner or later. The use of bad language in my books isn’t because I am being gratuitous in an attempt to shock readers. It is simply because I want my books to be authentic and to reflect the way the characters would have spoken.

Even if books are fictional, they are often a reflection of real life, and in real life people swear. Anyone who thinks they can eliminate the use of those words from the English language is on a pointless mission. Swearing is used as a form of expression, to convey anger or humour, or perhaps because the character being described in a novel would typically speak that way. This can reveal a lot about the character’s personality or environment. In fact, in my forthcoming novel, the bad language (and violence) are a fundamental part of who my characters are and, to remove it, would be taking something away from the characters.

So, what can authors do about these negative reviews from people offended by bad language?

I have included an introduction in each of my novels explaining why I have chosen to include swear words and slang, and apologising to those readers who may be offended. I did toy with the idea of putting a warning on the Amazon description page, but would this be taking it too far? After all, the books are crime thrillers, targeted at the over 18s, and the book blurbs give a good indication as to the content, with words such as ‘murder’, ‘killer’, ‘spliff smoking’, ‘thug’ and ‘shady dealing’. Surely, the readers of such books would expect some bad language as well as violence?

I would love to know your thoughts regarding this. Is it a good idea to put a warning on the product page, or not? Do you find the use of bad language in books offensive or off-putting? Do you agree with people giving bad reviews because of the swearing in a book?

———————-

I am pleased to announce that I have now fixed a launch date of 7th October for my forthcoming crime thriller, “A Gangster’s Grip”.
To give you a taster, I have included the first chapter below:

Chapter 1
Saturday 9th March 1991 – early afternoon
Rita couldn’t wait to get to her parents’ house, and had been discussing it with her husband, Yansis, during the taxi ride from the airport. It had been so long since she’d been back from Greece, and she had missed everyone, despite their shortcomings. She got out of the cab, and waited for the driver to take their cases out of the boot.
Once the cases were on the pavement, Yansis carried them to the front door while Rita settled the cab fare. She had no sooner taken her purse out of her handbag than she spotted something in her peripheral vision, causing her to look up.
Too late!
Before she knew what was happening, a youth swung by on a bike. Maintaining his speed while riding one-handed, he snatched her purse and zoomed past.
She gave chase, yelling and screaming. Yansis joined her when he realised she had been robbed. But it was no use. They couldn’t keep up with a bike, especially Rita in her high heels, and the youth was soon out of sight.
“Fine bloody start that is!” she cursed. Walking back to the taxi driver, she continued her rant, “And a lot of help you were.”
“Don’t blame me, love. If you think I’m leaving my cab round here, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Oh, come off it! Just because my purse has been snatched, doesn’t mean your cab’s gonna be robbed.”
“Doesn’t it? You don’t know what it’s like! How long is it since you’ve been back, love?”
“A few years. Why?”
“I think you’ll find it’s changed, and not for the better either.”
Rita shrugged off his comments, anxious to get inside the house, while Yansis paid the cab fare.
Her mother, Joan, answered the door. “Hiya love, how are you? Where’s that lovely husband of yours?” she asked, hugging Rita.
“I’ve just been robbed, Mam. Some bugger’s just whipped my purse out of my hands while I was trying to pay for the taxi.”
“You’re joking! The bloody swines! What happened? Where are they?” her mother replied and, within seconds, her parents were both outside, searching up and down the street.
“You’re too late; he’ll be long gone. There was only one of them; some kid on a bike. He was off like lighting.”
“Well, what did he look like?” asked Joan. “We might be able to find out who he is.”
“I don’t know. I only saw the back of him. Young, a teenager, I think. He had a dark hoody on, navy or black, and jeans. That’s about all I saw. It all happened so fast.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Reet. That’s all you need when you’ve only just got here!”
“I know,” Rita replied, her voice shaking. “It’s gonna be loads of hassle … I’ll have to cancel all my cards … I’ll need to find out the bank’s phone number …”
“Can’t trust no-one these days,” interrupted her father, Ged, who was hovering behind her mother looking shifty. That wasn’t unusual for him, but he looked even more shifty than usual. Rita released her mother and gave him a tentative hug while her mother greeted Yansis.
When they had spent a few minutes in the hallway discussing the theft, Joan said to Rita and Yansis, “Come on you two, I’ll make you a cuppa; I bet you could do with one after that. Let’s get in and have a sit down.”
Although tiny at 5ft 1, Rita had a big presence. Her towering heels increased her height, and her liberal application of make-up enhanced her moderately attractive features. She had dark brown hair, which she wore in a fashionable textured bob, and was dressed casual but smart.
Leaving their cases in the hallway, they headed towards the living room. Rita was the first to step into the room and stopped short at the sight of a large, mean-looking black man sprawled across the sofa. Spliff in one hand, can of lager in the other, he was resting against some cushions with his legs stretched out across the coffee table. As Rita entered the room, he took a long hard drag on the spliff as though challenging her. Then he slowly exhaled the smoke, his face forming a sneer, as he examined her in minute detail.
Rita noted the scar that cut across his forehead, the primed muscles and the abundance of tattoos. She saw the letters H-A-T-E tattooed across the fingers of his right hand. ‘Why did these self-professed hard men always have to make a statement with this LOVE and HATE tattoo thing? It was so corny and pathetic,’ she thought.
When he lifted his can of lager, she glimpsed the tattoo spread across the fingers of his other hand, expecting to see the letters L-O-V-E. However, disconcertingly, that also bore the letters H-A-T-E.
There was a break in the tension as Rita’s father dashed to her side, “This is Leroy, Jenny’s boyfriend,” he gushed.
Rita already knew that her sister, Jenny, had a boyfriend, but she didn’t know much about him. Despite her automatic reservations, she tried to appear friendly as she said, “Hello, Leroy, pleased to meet you.”
Leroy briefly nodded his head in response then continued to take drags of his spliff while Rita’s mother, Joan, and Yansis entered the room. When Joan introduced Yansis, he received the same cool appraisal. During this time Leroy remained seated and didn’t attempt to converse with them.
Rita suspected that her parents were equally aware of the uncomfortable atmosphere created by Leroy. This was borne out by her mother’s waffling, “Rita and Yansis have got a restaurant in Greece but they’ve come back to stay for a while, haven’t you love? It’s alright though; Yansis has got a big family so there’s plenty of people to look after the place for them while they’re over here. You’re looking well our Rita. You’ve got a lovely tan and I love that leather jacket. Was the flight alright? You two must be shattered. Let me make you that cup of tea …”
“Where’s Jenny?” asked Rita.
“She’s just nipped to the loo. She’ll be down in a minute,” said Joan. “Oh, here she is now.”
Rita turned round and rushed towards her sister, but stopped when she noticed Jenny’s swollen stomach, “Jesus, when did that happen? You might have bloody well told me!”
“How about congratulations?” said Jenny.
“Sorry, it’s just … it’s a lot to take in. There’s been a lot of changes since I was home. Yeah, congratulations. I’m pleased for you; you look well.”
Rita gave Jenny’s arm a gentle squeeze, attempting to hide her mounting levels of unease, and surreptitiously flashing Yansis a concerned look. Apart from the pregnancy, Jenny had changed in other ways in the few years since Rita had last seen her.
Like Rita, she was tiny, although taller than Rita at 5ft 2, but there was now a maturity about her. She was an attractive girl and pregnancy suited her, bringing with it a radiant glow.
“I’m sorry, Reet,” said Joan. “We were going to tell you, but it didn’t sound right in a letter and I never seemed to find time on the phone. You know how it is phoning there. It costs a bloody fortune, and I’ve no sooner said hiya than the pips are going. Anyway, I knew you’d be coming home soon so I thought I’d tell you face to face.”
“Soon! She’s about five bloody months gone.”
“Twenty two weeks actually,” verified Jenny.
“What’s the big deal?” asked Leroy.
Rita turned to see a look of undisguised aggression cross Leroy’s face, and decided not to pursue the matter.
“Anyway, are we having that cuppa, Mam, or what?” she asked.
While Joan went to make the drinks, everybody else sat down on the three piece suite. Her father, Ged, took an armchair and Jenny settled herself next to Leroy. Rita felt uncomfortable sitting next to them, so she sat on the remaining armchair and invited Yansis to sit on the arm. They told Jenny about the theft of Rita’s purse, and she seemed concerned, but Leroy showed no emotion.
Apart from the discomfort of sharing her parents’ living room with the hostile Leroy, Rita was bothered about the sleeping arrangements. Her parents’ house was a three bedroom modern terraced on a council housing estate. It had two decent sized bedrooms and a further bedroom that was only big enough for a single bed. She had hoped that she and Yansis could share one of the large bedrooms, and that Jenny wouldn’t mind staying in the single room temporarily. In fact, as her parents had been aware of her imminent arrival, she hoped they had already arranged this. Rita therefore broached the subject when her mother returned carrying a tray of drinks.
“You have a seat here, Mam. Me and Yansis will take our cases up and, if you want, we can fetch a couple of chairs from the kitchen. Are we in the front bedroom?”
“The front bedroom’s already taken by me and Jenny,” growled Leroy, with an air of menace, which took Rita by surprise.
She turned to her mother, “Are we in the small bedroom then?”
Rita was trying to visualise how she and Yansis would manage with a single bed in a room that measured no more than 10 foot by 6 foot, but she figured it would have to do. After all, her sister was pregnant so it was only fair that she and Leroy had more space.
As she was mulling over the possibilities, Joan replied, “Ooh, that’s something I need to have a word with you about, Rita. There isn’t a bed in that room anymore. We didn’t see a need for one after you’d left. It’s been such a long time since you’ve been home so we use it for storage now. You’re welcome to the settee, though, and I can fix you up with a sleeping bag, if you like, so Yansis can kip down next to you.”
“You’re joking! We could be here for months. How can we manage for months on the settee and the floor? And where will we put our stuff?”
“You ought to be bloody grateful we’re putting you up. We’ve not seen hide nor hair of you for donkey’s years,” Ged chipped in.
Rita was about to retaliate; she and her father hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but Yansis changed the subject in order to defuse the situation.
“It’s no problem. We can find somewhere to stay, Rita. Manchester is a big city. There must be lots of hotels.”
“That’ll cost us a bloody fortune,” Rita replied before a thought occurred to her. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll find somewhere.”
A few minutes of uncomfortable silence followed before the phone rang in the dining room and Joan went to answer it.
“Leroy’s expecting an important business call,” boasted Ged.
“Oh, what is your business?” asked Yansis.
“A bit of everything, this and that,” came the guarded reply.
“Leroy, it’s for you,” announced Joan, on returning to the living room.
At last, Leroy prised himself from the sofa to take the call.
“So what exactly is ‘this and that’?” asked Rita, once Leroy had left the room.
“Leroy’s a business man, and a well-respected one too. He deals a lot in imports and, before you go sounding your mouth off, he’s been very good to us,” said Ged.
“I haven’t said anything,” Rita snapped back.
It was obvious she wouldn’t gain anything by continuing to probe, so Rita cleared the finished cups from the living room instead. Although it gave her an excuse to get away from her father’s goading, she was also curious about Leroy’s ‘important business call’.
The kitchen of her parents’ home was next to the dining room, and while she carried the cups through to the kitchen and placed them in the sink, Rita strained to hear Leroy’s conversation. He seemed angry about something, and his voice was becoming louder. She was glad she wasn’t the person on the other end of the phone. As Leroy became increasingly agitated, she stopped what she was doing, realising that it might be best if he didn’t realise she was there. She crept towards the dining room where she could overhear what he was saying more clearly.
“I want the fuckin’ goods. They should have been here yesterday. I’ve got customers waiting, and if I stop supplying, they’ll get them from someone else. I can’t afford to have them taking over my turf.”
There was then a brief pause while Leroy listened to the person on the other end of the line, before adding, “No, the usual, H.”
The call ended abruptly and Rita panicked. If Leroy saw her in the kitchen, he would surmise that she had overheard his conversation. Then she heard him make another call. He had calmed down a little by now so she couldn’t hear everything he was saying, just brief snippets … “It’s sorted … promised tomorrow … It’s sweet … should be a few days … be sorted then … somewhere to store them.”
Rita could sense that the call was ending, so she ran quietly from the kitchen to the living room, on the pretext of checking for more cups. She made sure she was still there when Leroy returned to the living room. Once she was satisfied that he had noted her presence in the living room, she made her way back to the kitchen to finish what she had been doing.
When Rita walked in the living room again, the atmosphere hadn’t improved much. While her mother was asking Yansis about life in Greece, her father was discussing some sort of business deal with Leroy. Rita couldn’t hear everything because of her mother’s chatter, but she got the impression that Leroy was providing goods for her father to sell somewhere. From the tone of the conversation, she could tell that her father held Leroy in high regard. Meanwhile, Jenny stayed silent, snuggled up to Leroy while passively observing.
There was something about the whole scene that didn’t feel right to Rita and, after a short while, she made her excuses and prepared to leave. While she and Yansis were in the hallway saying their goodbyes, her mother announced, “I hope you get fixed up love.”
“We’ll sort something out,” said Rita.
“Well let me know if you don’t. Our Jenny will be getting her council house next week, and Leroy will be moving in with her, so we should have some room then.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Ooh, sorry love. I forgot with all the excitement.”
“Good luck with it, Jenny. I hope it all goes well.”
“Thanks,” Jenny replied.
Rita hugged her mother and sister, said goodbye to her father and shouted goodbye through to the living room for the benefit of Leroy, who remained seated. Although she assured her mother that they would be back if they didn’t find somewhere to stay, she noticed the look that flashed across her father’s face. She knew that as long as Leroy was around, she and Yansis would be about as welcome as a dose of flu.
——————–
“A Gangster’s Grip” is the second book in The Riverhill Trilogy. The first book, “Slur” is available from Amazon in both Kindle and print formats. I will be publishing further details of how to obtain a copy of “A Gangster’s Grip” once it becomes available.
——————–

My second novel, “A Gangster’s Grip” is now only a few weeks away from publication, so I’m excited to reveal the book cover and book blurb. The cover has once again been designed by the talented Chris Howard who can be contacted at: [email protected].

—————-

When Rita returns to Manchester after a few years away, she doesn’t expect to find a spliff smoking, beer swilling thug called Leroy firmly ensconced on her parents’ sofa. Rita is horrified to discover he is her sister Jenny’s new boyfriend, and she senses trouble.

The more Rita finds out about Leroy, the more she mistrusts him. As she uncovers the truth about his shady dealings, she becomes anxious about Jenny’s safety and is desperate to lure her away from him. Rita’s mettle is tested as she tries to protect her sister while battling with personal health concerns.

But it’s worse than Rita could ever have suspected. Through her association with Leroy, Jenny is about to become embroiled in the most dangerous phase in Manchester’s recent history.

—————-

“A Gangster’s Grip” is the second part of The Riverhill Trilogy, and is the sequel to my first novel, “Slur”, which is available from Amazon. The new cover for “Slur”, showing the Riverhill subtitle, has been uploaded to Amazon and will be displayed shortly.  I intend to publish the third and final part of The Riverhill Trilogy in early summer 2016.

—————-

While carrying out my research for my forthcoming novel “A Gangster’s Grip” it has led me to think about the role of the police in bringing violent crime under control in Manchester. Although a multi-agency approach is responsible for the reduction in this type of crime, armed response teams played their part. Not only have armed response teams been used for raids on properties associated with gang members, but their stop and search approach also reduced the number of arms being carried into the city centre.

This prompts the perennial question: should UK police be armed?

As a nation we are unusual in our decision not to routinely arm the police and there have been many calls to arm our officers. However, in a 2012 news report the Chief Constable of Greater Manchester, Sir Peter Fahy, defended the decision not to arm the police, arguing that arming police would not mean that officers wouldn’t get shot. His statement was made following the fatal shootings of two WPCs in Greater Manchester.

Although public opinion is divided regarding whether the police should be armed, figures show that the majority of the police themselves are not in favour. According to a survey in 2006, 82% of Police Federation members were against being routinely armed on duty. In contrast, an ICM poll of the public in 2004 showed 47% in support of arming all police and 48% against. Additionally, a 2007 poll of 2,156 adults by Policy Exchange, the centre-right think tank, showed that 72% of those polled wanted more armed police patrols.

My personal view is that I would not like to see the police routinely armed, but that armed response teams should be used when circumstances demand. It’s a tricky one though, because it’s not always possible to predict when a PC’s life is about to be put at risk.

With regard to armed police, I can remember a security alert a few years ago just before going on holiday. We arrived at Manchester airport to find hordes of armed police patrolling the terminal building. It was the first time I had seen armed police in Manchester, and I remember feeling unsettled. We had the children with us who were only toddlers at the time, which I think added to my unease.

On another occasion, I had been out for a meal in Manchester with my husband and we were waiting in the queue for a taxi home. A man dashed into the road and, for no apparent reason, decided to launch himself, yelling and screaming, at any vehicle that looked remotely like a taxi. We were concerned that he would seriously injure himself but worried about going to his aid because his behaviour was so volatile.

Everybody in the taxi queue stood open-mouthed wondering how to react. It’s a difficult position to be in because you want to help but, at the same time, you have to consider your own safety. Fortunately, within a couple of minutes the police had picked him up on CCTV and the armed response team were quick to act. In that instance I was glad to see them.

What are your views on arming the police? Are you for or against, or do you think, like me, that armed response teams should just be used for specific circumstances?

—————-

Recently I have noticed a profusion of articles and blog posts by people involved in the publishing industry with titles such as ’10 Ways Not to Begin your Novel’. The suggestions of ‘things to avoid’ include having your protagonist waking up from a dream, prologues, going back in time and many others. The reason they give is that these types of openings are overused and are therefore sure to get your book rejected by publishers.

Personally, I think this reasoning is crazy. Just because a particular approach has been used previously doesn’t necessarily mean it has been done in the same way. Similarly, because the opening to a book is of a certain type, it doesn’t follow that the book will have anything else in common with other books that have used the same type of opener. Of course, to justify their reasoning they often cite that it will put readers off. Really? Are readers concerned over whether or not a book has a prologue, or has the current dislike for prologues got more to do with publishing fads?
When I wrote my debut novel I opened it with my protagonist waking up from a dream. I had been reading books for 40 years prior to publishing Slur and I can honestly say that I cannot recall another book that opened in this way. It may be that I have read one years ago and retained it in my subconscious, but it isn’t as though every other book I read begins with a dream. Certainly dreams have been used to effect in novels, but does this mean that we should put a ban on the use of dreams in case they become overused?
This brings me to the bigger picture: if the publishing industry insists that we avoid openings that they consider are overused, then why restrict this ruling just to openers? Why not put a ban on jaded cops? Flawed heroes? Middle class chic lit full of dating and/or career dilemmas? Romance novels where boy meets girl but fate conspires to keep them apart for most of the novel until they finally end up together? Or, before this latest trend gets too clichéd, why not put a ban on the female cop who thinks she tougher than all the guys, but has a vulnerable side known only to the reader?
The important point I’m trying to make in all of this is that what’s more important than the type of scenario you create is how well it’s executed.
Another ‘rule’ that drives me to distraction is that it’s now become unpopular to replace the word ‘said’ with alternatives. Although we were encouraged to come up with more creative alternatives at school many decades ago (in my case anyway), those alternatives have now become anathema in certain quarters. I can understand how the overuse of alternatives can become jarring, but there are instances where certain words are more expressive than the word ‘said’ and they can convey the mood of the person speaking.

The ‘point of view rule’ is another example that came to my attention recently through a book that I read. This is a rule that most writers follow, and I try not to break this one myself because it can become confusing if an author switches point of view mid-scene. However, in ‘Child 44′ by Tom Rob Smith there are many instances in the book where the author switches POV from one paragraph to the next. Yet, this is a bestselling novel, which has received rave reviews in the popular press. I don’t know whether it was a conscious decision on the part of the author to take this approach, but I found that it didn’t spoil my enjoyment of the book and there were only one or two parts of the book where it caused confusion.
While there is a lot of good advice out there, which can improve your writing, sometimes I feel that there is too much. It is impossible to take it all on board especially as so much of the advice is conflicting anyway. Too much emphasis on ‘the writing rules’ can make your writing become stilted, so I think the best thing is just to enjoy your writing. Any howlers can be sifted out at the editing stage anyway and if there is any advice that doesn’t make sense to you, ignore it.
Rant over, for now, but if there are any writing rules that irritate you, please feel free to have a moan in the comments below. :)
Signed, Rebellious Indie Author.
P.S. My opening for Slur is staying.

In a recent blog post I described the Gunchester Era of 90s Manchester when violent crime soared in the city. This is the backdrop to my forthcoming novel and if you haven’t already read my previous post, you can view it here. I would like to follow on from my previous post by looking at how the Gunchester Era has affected Manchester.

After the 1990s Manchester continued to experience gang related violence, and in the last decade the number of shootings across Greater Manchester peaked at 146 in 2007. However, an October 2013 newspaper article reported a reduction in the number of incidents to just 11 shootings in a period of six months. To put this into perspective, this is one of the lowest rates recorded in Greater Manchester, which is a county of two and a half million inhabitants. This level is also lower than the neighbouring county of West Yorkshire.

So how did Manchester manage to turn things around?

It is the result of a multi-faceted approach involving the community, the police, local councils and a number of other agencies all working together to tackle violent crime. The needless loss of young lives left family members devastated and led to various initiatives by relatives of deceased youngsters. Amongst these were Peace Week, Mothers against Violence and Fathers against Violence. The stand taken by communities meant that witnesses were given the courage to contact the police, leading to key arrests. This was a brave move as people had previously been too frightened to report gang-related crime.

The police also set up a specialist task force called Xcalibre whose function was specifically to tackle gun-crime and other gang-related crime. Xcalibre has been so successful in reducing the level of violent crime in Manchester that it is now held in high regard worldwide and hosts conferences for other forces so that they can follow its lead.

However, it is the cohesive approach between the community, the police and other agencies such as youth offending services, probation and local councils that is responsible for the ongoing reduction in violent crime. This was acknowledged by the Greater Manchester Police and Crime Commissioner, Tony Lloyd, who stated in a newspaper article in October 2013 that one of the aims was to provide alternatives for young people who might otherwise have joined gangs.

As the Gunchester period progressed it was recognized that gang members were becoming younger and younger and that children in schools regarded gang culture as their best option in life. At one time children as young as 13 were joining gangs but now that the police are working with schools and other agencies to raise awareness of alternatives, the typical age of gang members has become older.

The work of some of these groups has been so successful that it is now being taken up by other cities in the UK. Here is some further information on some of the groups that are still working to tackle violent crime and gang-related crime in Manchester:

Mothers against Violence (http://mavuk.org/) – This organisation was founded in 1999 by two women who had lost sons as a result of gang-related violence. It started out as a peer to peer support group for victims of violent crime or for those who had lost family members because of violent crime. It now runs a Community Counselling and Emotional Support Service Programme (ACCESS Programme) and offers a range of other services.

Fathers against Violence (http://fav-uk.org/) – This group is sponsored by a number of bodies and provides guidance to youngsters, giving them the confidence and awareness to seek out alternative opportunities to crime. Fathers against Crime works in partnership with schools, parents, local authorities and community groups and encourages positive male role models.

Manchester City Council – Integrated Gang Management Unit (http://www.manchester.gov.uk/info/200030/crime_antisocial_behaviour_and_nuisance/6134/integrated_gang_management_unit) – This is a multi-agency team, which includes the Xcalibre task force. Its aims are to safeguard people affected by violent gang-related activity, and to support gang members that want to leave the gang lifestyle. It also encourages young people to follow alternative pathways to gang crime, and enforces the law related to gang crime.

In a news report on 14th February 2015 the latest figures showed a slight increase in gun crime from the previous year in the Greater Manchester region, but this was nowhere near the number of incidents when Gunchester was at its peak. This is an indication though that for Manchester, like many cities, the fight against violent crime is an ongoing battle.

—————–

Alexandra Park in Moss Side, Manchester is another of the locations featured in my forthcoming novel “A Gangster’s Grip”. Its reputation has suffered in recent years due to violence and crime in the vicinity. As recently as 12th May 2015 there was a report of a stabbing in a street next to the park, which left a man in his 20s in a critical condition.

It’s sad to think that Alexandra Park hits the headlines due to violence in the surrounding streets because, actually, the park has a rich and significant heritage. Not only is Alexandra Park the home of the Manchester Caribbean Carnival, a colourful, vibrant event that has been taking place for over 40 years, it is also Grade 2 listed and has been declared a place of national importance because of its heritage.

The Park was opened by the Mayor of Manchester on 6th August 1870 and was named after Princess Alexandra. It covers an area of more than 60 acres and is one of the most complete Victorian parks in Manchester. In fact, it was considered the showpiece of Manchester’s Victorian parks, boasting a lodge designed by Alfred Darbyshire, male and female gymnasia, a cricket ground, the Serpentine lake, a walkway and terrace designed for promenading, and Manchester’s first sunken bowling green. Later additions to the park included a bandstand, propagating houses and refreshment rooms.

Alexandra Park also has connections with the Suffragette Movement. Emmeline Pankhurst was born on the Alexandra Park estate only yards from the Park. Thousands of suffragettes marched to Alexandra Park on 24th October 1908 where they held a political rally called the “Great Demonstration”. In 1905-6 a large glass house was built inside the Park to house the impressive cactus collection bequeathed by Charles Darrah upon his death. The bombing of the cactus house in November 1913 was attributed to the famous Suffragette, Kitty Marion.

In December 2012 a programme of restoration began for Alexandra Park after decades of neglect. A total of £5.5 million has been invested using money granted to Manchester City Council by the Heritage Lottery Fund, the Big Lottery Fund and various sporting bodies in addition to some funds from the council itself. The improvement work has now finished and includes:

Restoration of Chorlton Lodge to be used as a community area downstairs and office space upstairs.
New cricket pitches with markings for two lacrosse pitches.
Restoration and extension of the pavilion to encompass changing rooms for the cricket pitches, a larger community space, public toilets and a café.
Four new tennis courts.
Renovation and/or demolishing of depot buildings to provide views into the park and a community room, and improvement of the existing depot changing rooms for the tennis courts and football field.
Extensive landscaping including a flower garden, flower beds, the planting of additional trees, repair and/or replacement of footpaths, replacement of street furniture, improved drainage and restoration of the drinking fountain and flagstaff.

Following completion of the work Alexandra Park now looks stunning. You can see some images of the Park, including some taken during the refurbishment phase, at: http://www.alexandraparkmanchester.com/.

——————-

I love Manchester! I’ll always be the first person to tell you that, and I’m proud of the many positive things that the city has going for it – sports, music, theatre, art galleries, eating out, magnificent architecture etc. etc. The city centre also looks stunning since it has been regenerated. However, like many major cities, it has less salubrious areas.

As part of the research for my forthcoming novel, “A Gangster’s Grip”, I read the book “Gang War” by Peter Walsh because it is about the drugs gangs in Manchester during the period in the 1980s and 1990s known as Gunchester. I was interested to find that there is a chapter on “The Longsight War” in the book, as Longsight is one of the locations I have chosen for my novel.

In the book, “Gang War”, the author describes a particular estate in Longsight as, “a cheerless patch of low-rise dwellings isolated between the major A6 Stockport Road on one side and a railway mainline and stockyard on the other”, and, “yet another planning mistake”.

 

I was shocked to read these quotations because the estate that the author refers to is, in fact, where I spent my teenage years. Seeing it described like that in black and white made me question whether it was really that bad and, on reflection, I came to the conclusion that, well yes, it was. I apologise to anyone from Longsight who may be offended by this article but my views are based on my own personal experiences. The experiences of others may have been different.

I lived there during the 1970s. I already knew that there were a lot of problems in the area, including shootings, during the 1990s because of gang related violence, but I wasn’t aware until I read the book that the estate actually became the gang’s headquarters.

Although I lived there over a decade before the gang wars took a hold in the area, I don’t have fond memories of my time there. Many of the other kids used to persecute me. The reason? I preferred to study rather than hang about on the streets getting into trouble. I used to feel intimidated every time I went out of the house. The kids would line up and shout insults at me. One of them even threw a banger (firework) at me one day, which missed me by inches. I used to spend time planning the best routes to the bus stop, trying to keep away from the abusive kids while at the same time avoiding the wild dogs that used to prowl around the estate. Sometimes I would walk for miles out of my way just to evade them.

I can remember the police chasing cars around the avenue near to my home, and hearing their brakes screeching in the middle of the night. Sometimes they would bypass the road out of the estate and cut across a grass verge and walkway that led to the main road. (The walkway was actually known on CB radio as “Mugger’s Alley”.) We would see the heavy, muddy tyre marks leading to the main road the following day. This, in fact, gave me the inspiration for a particular car scene in my forthcoming novel, “A Gangster’s Grip”.

Fortunately I and my two oldest brothers were already in secondary school by the time we moved to the estate. That meant that our school was a bus journey away and we had our own set of friends there. My two youngest brothers weren’t so lucky and had the misfortune of attending the local junior school, but that’s another story.

So why would I want to revisit one of the unhappiest times of my life through my writing?

There are a number of reasons. One is that it was an eventful time. It’s difficult to write about anything cosy when you have strong memories of a murderer living at the end of the row and a prostitute next door. Although I’ve had a lot of good times in my life as well, the bad memories will always emerge sharper and more dominant.

There’s also an element of morbid fascination, which I think a lot of us have. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be such a demand for books and films in genres such as crime, thrillers, horror etc. Despite my unhappiness during the time that I lived in Longsight, I remember that there would be an excited buzz if we heard somebody fighting or arguing outside after the pubs shut. This probably wasn’t the case for the adults but we were only teenagers at the time. We would peep from behind our bedroom curtains to see what was happening. Then the following day my mother’s friend would call round to bring her up-to-date with the local gossip. I would excitedly listen in on this adult chat while pretending to be busy doing something else.

Writing is also cathartic. In a similar way to counselling, it gives you the opportunity to revisit the bad times and work them out of your system. Once you’ve revisited them, then, metaphorically speaking, you can shut the drawer and put it to one side.

Another reason why I write what I do is because I’ll never forget where I’ve come from. People are sometimes too quick to judge those from council estates. It’s important to note, though, that we aren’t all bad. There are a lot of good people that come from council estates; people like Rita who is the main character in my second novel, and also plays a strong role in my debut novel Slur.

Rita swears like a trouper, she’s brash and she’s feisty, but she’s basically a good person. That’s why I leave all the bad language in my books, because I want to keep it real. I want to show that people like Rita exist. They take all that life throws at them, then come out fighting and emerge stronger. A friend like Rita will always have your back. She’s fiercely loyal, caring and stands up for what she believes in. So, in a way, my second novel is dedicated to all the Ritas in the world.

——————

I would like to thank author Peter Walsh for his permission to use quotations from his book Gang War: www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004RUZQUI or www.amazon.com/dp/B004RUZQUI.

——————

This is the second of my blog posts, which explores the background to my forthcoming novel, “A Gangster’s Grip”. For this post I thought I would focus on Cheetham Hill, a suburb to the north of Manchester, which is featured in the book.

Here is a quotation from “A Gangster’s Grip” describing Cheetham Hill:

“…this vibrant multi-cultural area where new architecture mixed with old, and industrial units, furniture stores and car showrooms stood alongside churches, mosques and synagogues.”

In 2013 a newspaper article described Cheetham Hill Road as “Britain’s Most Diverse Street”. Its eclectic mix includes Irish pubs, Arab sweet shops, Polish delis, Jamaican hairdressers, Asian wholesalers, fast-food outlets and many others. Information from the newspaper report stated that English was a second language for 48% of the residents, and that Cheetham Hill Road has the most nationalities of any road in the UK.

It has long been known as a place for Sunday trading, which took place even before the Sunday licensing laws were passed. Many wholesalers are based in the area and it isn’t always necessary to be a registered business in order to buy from them; therefore many people are attracted by the low prices. The area has also become renowned for the sale of counterfeit goods as highlighted on TV documentaries including the recent “Kyle Files”.

To explore the roots of the town’s ethnic and cultural diversity, it’s interesting to take a brief look at the history of Cheetham Hill. It has been an industrial district for a long time and has attracted groups of immigrants since the 19th century. The Irish arrived in the middle of the 19th century after fleeing the Great Famine.

The next group of immigrants to arrive were the Jews in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Amongst them was Michael Marks who, together with Thomas Spencer, opened the first branch of Marks and Spencer in 1893, which was originally situated on Cheetham Hill Road.

During the 1950s and 1960s people from the Caribbean and the Indian subcontinent settled in the area. Since then there have been various groups of immigrants from the Far East, Africa and Eastern Europe. This mix of nationalities and cultures is what gives the area its great diversity.

There is evidence of the town’s rich history in some of its monuments such as Manchester Jewish Museum and The Museum of Transport. Cheetham Hill also continues to be a wholesale and retail area with a modern shopping complex as well as the traditional wholesalers and multi-cultural retail shops that have existed for decades. It is certainly a place with plenty of selection and somewhere you can find goods that you would have difficulty finding elsewhere.

Sunday mornings are a good time to visit, when the centre of Cheetham Hill is lively and full of enthusiastic shoppers on the lookout for bargains. With the colourful shop fronts and aromas from the many cafes, restaurants and delis in the area, it’s a place where your senses can really come alive. During the week it’s still a busy area but people are more focused on carrying out business then catering to shoppers. I used to work in the accounts offices of a leather goods manufacturer about 25 years ago on the edge of Cheetham Hill, which was an area with an abundance of wholesale warehouses.

In the 1980s and 1990s a Cheetham Hill gang became involved in a gang war with another gang in Moss Side. The two gangs had previously been on good terms but for some reason they had a major disagreement, which resulted in an escalation in gun violence in certain areas of Manchester. This is only one facet of Cheetham Hill though. I worked in the area during the Gunchester period and didn’t see any evidence of gang culture so I suppose it would depend what part of Cheetham Hill you visited. It’s quite a large area; Cheetham Hill Road is 8km in length and Cheetham Hill had a population of 22.5 thousand according to the 2011 census.

My group of novels called “The Gunchester Trilogy” covers the Gunchester period. Book 1: Slur is currently available from Amazon and Book 2: A Gangster’s Grip, which covers the inter-gang rivalry between Cheetham Hill and Moss Side, will be available from September/October 2015.

——————–