The title of this post was actually the working title of my latest book until I had an epiphany before I submitted it to Canelo and changed it to What Happens in France.
I’ve always found coming up with book titles one of the most difficult parts of writing a book. I remember my debut novel (Mini Skirts and Laughter Lines) was called A Twinkle in My Wrinkle until an hour before it was published! Titles are hugely important and even though I spend hours awake going through what I think might work, I don’t always get it right and my publisher invariably changes them to something more appropriate.
Titles aren’t always the only part of the book that cause me mental anguish. In the case of this book, it wasn’t the plot or the characters, it was coming up with ideas for crazy games for a reality television show that would be highly entertaining.
It took some doing but I was really pleased with the results. One of easiest to conjure up was a race up a steep hill in beautiful rural France. This wasn’t taxing at all because not only have I raced on the circuit at Castle Donnington but for many years I lived in the Tarn and Garonne region, near a town called St Antonin Noble Val that hosts such a hill climb every August 15th. It’s an incredibly popular event, attracting racing drivers and amateurs alike and about half the population of the region who line the twisted route from the bottom of the hill in the picturesque medieval bastide town to the summit some 250 metres high.
The course de circuit is 1.5 kilometres long and that may not sound very special or spectacular but believe me it is. The route runs along the jaw-dropping Aveyron Gorges with phenomenal views to the river where canoeists anchor their kayaks to observe the race, while others jostle for space behind massive hay bales that line the road.
The noise is phenomenal – a growling that fills the valleys like a hundred angry dragons battling for supremacy. Each car ascends, engine at full throttle and navigates the sharp bends and turns, hurtling towards the finish line, egged on by eager cries and cheers.
When Bryony and Lewis take on a similar challenge in their furry 2CV, I thought back to the eager faces, the supportive crowd and buzz of excitement that accompanied the event at St Antonin. No matter if you aren’t a car enthusiast, you can’t help but be captivated by the setting and the atmosphere, and in no time at all, you find yourself cheering along with the others.
I hope you’ll root for Bryony and Lewis in What Happens in France, although they’re up against fierce competition and you’ll find your loyalties tested. Besides, the host of the show isn’t keen for them to win… why not? You’ll have to read the book to find out!
EXTRACT FROM WHAT HAPPENS IN FRANCE:
‘Come on, Furby!’ Lewis pumped the accelerator pedal. The sunshine streaming in through the windscreen was causing him to squint. At last the car sputtered into life and they made it onto the starting line.
La Pommeraye was a 2.5 kilometre hill climb and the trio of bizarre cars and film crew had attracted a large crowd of supporters who lined the closed circuit, cheering for each of the contestants as the cars raced by. Lewis and Bryony were the last to attempt the climb.
They waited by the lights, currently on red. It seemed to take an age for them to change.
‘Go… go… go!’ Bryony yelled as they tore up the hill past the spectators who waved at them. ‘Right bend!’ The car bore to the right, past a house outside which stood three children holding a sheet marked Allez Furby.
‘We have fans,’ said Bryony, clinging to the grab handle as they rejoined the main road and hastened past more fields. The circuit was an ordinary D road with some sharp bends and twists, railings to one side and all exits blocked off. It made for an exciting circuit although the furry Citroën was nowhere near as fast as the cars that usually competed in the annual hill climb.
Bryony adjusted her racing helmet. The strap was tight under her chin and she had to shout so Lewis could hear her commands. He could see the bends but it helped if she warned him of them too, given he had enough to manage with handling the vehicle.
There was no time to take in the fields of meadow flowers or the cows lazily grazing or the high banks of grass filled with people. Lewis was committed to finishing the race in the fastest time possible without crashing, and Bryony to holding on for dear life.
A bend to the left, another sharp one to the right and an inflatable bridge across the road bearing the name of the show. Cameras to the left and the right and cheering French people. They crossed the line.
Bryony high-fived Lewis. ‘Great driving.’
‘Bit different to that track day I did but not bad at all,’ he replied.
They climbed out of the car hoping they’d done enough to win the challenge.
*****
No comments:
Post a Comment