Adventure Eddy in Paris...

After finishing Bootleg Boys last year, I became acutely aware that my first full-length Adventure Eddy novel (set in Paris) was simply not up to scratch.

So in amongst my other myriad writing projects, I added the task of rewriting Adventure Eddy (which got to about the 10,000 word mark and then sat, simmering on the back burner.)

Today I peered at my rewrite and saw a lot of good stuff there - but also realised the amount of time, effort and sweat that would need to go into reworking it into something approaching the same questionable quality of the Bootleg Boys.

I decided to just forget it, leave the flawed novel as-is and move onto new and exciting projects.

It's rather sad, since I could really enjoy getting back into a rip-roaring adventure in Paris, making the plot a bit more complex (and the bad guy not so transparent) and improving on the rest of it. The unrequited love story and the big red car would be a lot of fun to revisit (especially since I now own Adventure Eddy's gigantic Firebird.)

But maybe some other time. Right now, I have other fish to fry (or, more exactly, books to write.)

So farewell, Adventure Eddy. In the mean time, I will leave you with the opening page of my rewrite - aimed at grabbing people's attention from the start.

Petite Anglaise

Although blogs are a great way to make friends online and keep your parents and friends up-to-date with your adventures, it's fairly obvious that the most dedicated (i.e. self important) of us bloggers are sometimes out there just to make a name for ourselves.

Which is why the success of bloggers-turned-authors like Belle Du Jour can be both frustrating, yet strangely affirming.

The latest blog-into-book is the blog of 35 year old expat Petite Anglaise.

Catherine Sanderson, under the nom de souris Petite Anglaise, started her blog in 2004, inspired by the likes of Belle Du Jour (which leads me to suspect that she harboured a certain self-publicist streak right from the very beginning!)

It started off as the amusing anecdotes of a British woman living and working in France, dutiful wife to 'Mr Frog' and loving mother to the bilingual baby 'Tadpole.'

But within a year of starting her blog, Sanderson shifted the focus of her writing away from the amusing expat experience (like her recommendations for working with FFs (French Females) to a more introspective and personal journal. This chronicled the breakdown of her marriage and her relationship with a new man she met in the comments section of her blog.

Her blogging continued it's surprising twists and turns when her boss uncovered Sanderson's candid chronicles - and swiftly gave her the boot (not the first time a blogger has been canned for their online antics.)

Taking her employer to court for wrongful dismissal, Catherine Sanderson picked up a £30,000 settlement, as well as a tornado of media interest promoting her story (and her blog) in British and French national newspapers. It even earned her a place on Richard and Judy's well-worn pastel sofa.

And just like that, Sanderson earned the happy-ending all blogger's secretly fantasise about. The media whirlwind inspired Michael Joseph (an imprint of Penguin) to publish her blog. We'll finally see the adventures of Petite Anglaise hit the bookshelves this June.


Bookish Blogging

Seeing the success of a blogger like Petite Anglaise can inspire conflicting emotions amongst us 'undiscovered' bloggers.

In some ways, it's incredibly exciting to see a fellow blogger make 'the big time' through their online exploits. But it's also rather frustrating to see somebody else succeed when your blog still languishes in relative obscurity.

However, skirting the emotional issues, it's clear to see why Catherine Sanderson's blog succeeded where others (such as mine) would fail.

Writing a publishable blog

Sanderson's blog makes for compelling reading - it's as simple as that.

My blog is pretty unpublishable, because it contains a few snippets of my boring life (painting the nursery and cooing at shiny red cars) in amongst reviews, editorials and completely unqualified opinionating about topics I have no authority to blog about (Kosovo, for example.)

Petite Anglaise has been a focused Bridget-Jones-esque journal from day one - and her romantic misadventures make the desire to find out 'what happens next' totally addictive. Catherine Sanderson expertly writes a real-life, expat soap-opera and we want to know more about her life - even if we disapprove of it.

And it is sometimes difficult to sympathise with Sanderson. Having just settled into my forth year of marriage, I find it rather uncomfortable the way a wife and mother like Petite Anglaise so swiftly dropped her spouse for an Internet beau - although I took no satisfaction in reading about her getting similarly dumped just over a year later.

It's also easy to be cynical about the way she embraced the media firestorm following her dismissal.

Catherine Sanderson made perfect headline fodder, but the beautiful young blond settled into her new role of 'celebrity blogger' disturbingly easily (similar observations have been levelled towards the most famous blogger/author Belle du Jour, who many people think is just the fictional alter-ego of some frustrated London hack.)

But leaving aside my petty prejudices, I can see the immediate appeal of an attractive, intelligent expatriate sharing her romantic misadventures in a blog-turned-book.

Whether you approve or disapprove of the choices she's made, Catherine Sanderson has one hell of a story to tell and if her blog is any indication of her writing skills, it's going to make for entertaining reading when it hits the bookstores.

Petite Anglaise by Catherine Sanderson is available on June 17th from Amazon.com and bookstores.

Angel-A

Wildly popular director Luc Besson, whose big-screen hits include The Fifth Element and La Femme Nikita, is these days most often thought of as a big-budget, all-action artist.

But this wildly prolific producer also lends his name and expertise to movies that aren't filled with explosions, movie-stars and mighty-morphin' Peugeot 205 Taxi cabs.

One such example is Angel-A.

This 2005 movie only recently made it to America - but it was worth the wait.

Angel-A is the story of a down-on-his-luck gambler and con-artist played by French comedy legend Jamel Debbouze (in 2002, the highest paid actor in France.)

After running up thousands of Euros worth of debt with seedy Paris crooks, Jamal's character, André, decides to toss himself into the Seine before the loan sharks he's defaulted on track him down and do it for him.

But before he can jump, he spots a leggy blond in an inexplicably short dress throw herself into the river first - so diving off the Pont Alexandre III, Jamal rescues the drowning beauty (which is quite a feat, since André is a tiny little man with only one arm.)

Once they emerge, dripping, onto the banks of the Seine, the blond introduces herself as Angela - and proceeds to tag along with André as he abandons suicide and tries to settle his debts. As miraculous things start to occur, André begins to wonder if Angela is more than just a statuesque blond. Could she really be his guardian angel?

Understated

Angel-A is, unsurprisingly, a uniquely French movie.

There are several things about this moody black-and-white film that just wouldn't translate to an America version - for example, how stunning Angela (played by ridiculously slim, statuesque Danish model Rie Rasmussen) could find short, scruffy André so captivating.

But that's what gives the movie it's charm - that and the wonderfully absurd relationship between the two leads (for example, at 5'5", Jamal is dwarfed by stiletto-heeled Rie Rasmussen.)

It's also funny, even after the jokes get translated into Americanized subtitles. I cracked up when Andé, attempting to seek protection from the loan sharks, demands a Gendarme lock him up. When the policeman refuses, he cries: "I'm an Arab with no identification! Are you kidding me?"

Another amusing scene features Angela soliciting money in a manner very different to the sordid means André is imagining.

Satisfying

Although a movie like this can only end happily, Luc Besson's script is anything but predictable. It's a very satisfying merry-go-round ride and all filmed against the backdrop of a postcard-perfect (and strangely deserted) Paris.

If you're looking for a 'French-fix' than Angel-A delivers everything you could ask for. The City of Lights. That typical Besson charm and wit. The wonderful Jamal in all his stuttering, awkward glory and a cute, romantic storyline that'll leave you uplifted when the credits start rolling.

Angel-A is available from Blockbuster.

Princess Diana and other good ways to Waste Taxpayer's Money

Next week, a hearing begins to investigate the circumstances surrounding the death of Princess Diana.

As if the countless documentries, investigations, reports and articles hadn't already picked over every single aspect of the unfortunate accident with a fine flea-comb!

Just last December, a lengthy British police investigation ruled that the crash which killed Diana was an accident and decided that she was not the victim of an elaborate murder plot.

A two-year French investigation has already reached the same conclusion.

Which begs the question: Why are we having ANOTHER bloody hearing?

The woman's been dead for over a decade now. Certainly, there are unanswered questions regarding how Dodi and Diana died - but is it really in the public interest for thousands of pounds to be channeled into ANOTHER tedious, repetitive and ultimately pointless hearing?

Almost 3,500 people die every year on the roads of Great Britain. Unfortunately, because none of those poor people were 'the Queen of Hearts,' their deaths are usually buttoned up and filed away with the minimum of fuss and effort. Case closed - as Diana's should be.

Britain needs to move on. To paraphrase one of the lines from the Oscar winning Helen Mirren film The Queen: "Princess Diana manages to be even more annoying dead than she was alive."

Some Thoughts...

With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I can see that I've had some wonderful experiences in the past. Tresco, Paris and Long Island were wonderful and I made great friends and had great times.

Stupidly, at the time, I didn't quite realise how lucky I was. I kept on looking at the horizon for the next big break. I was always unsatisfied.

So while I was driving back today, the cool sounds of Miles Davis wafting out of my SIRIUS radio and the warm evening breeze on my face, I gave it a thought and realised something astonishing.

I was incredibly happy. I was incredibly lucky. I was somewhere where I wanted to be.

Where I am right now is pretty much where I've spent the best part of a decade struggling to be. In America, behind the wheel of a stupid old car, with a solid job to go to and somebody who loves me to come back to.

Now I'm not 'giving up.' I'm still on the prowl to achieve more and go further. But right now, I realise I could freeze this moment for the rest of my life and be proud of it.

I sacrificed a lot to get to New York. Relationships and friendships and the chance to be close to the people I love. But as Simon Templar said in The Last Hero: "Nothing is won without sacrifice."

I just wanted to write this down because I know it can't last forever. It might not even last until tomorrow. But right now, where I am at this moment... People wait a lifetime for it. So even if I live to 102 and wind up destitute in a gutter, I'll always look back and appreciate how incredibly lucky and blessed I was at this exact moment in time.

Even more than I appreciate everything that's happened to me, I'm grateful for being given the insight to actually appreciate it. To realise that things are good while they're still good, instead of looking back in five years time and thinking: "Damn, if only I'd have realised how lucky I was..."

I do realise how lucky I am. In fact, the only thing that scares me is the inexorable knowledge that all things, good or bad, must come to an end.

Subway Psychology

"A person is smart. People are dumb."

Kay (Tommy Lee Jones) Men in Black

If aliens landed on Earth, what would their impression be?

Not very positive, if their landing zone was anywhere near a Subway station during rush hour.

Something about public transport brings out the worst in people. We transform from rational, intelligent beings into selfish, stubborn creatures as soon as we disappear underground.

Humanity has sent man to the moon and split the atom, yet stick sixty of us in a subway car and suddenly we're just animals again. We bustle and nudge aside other passengers on the platform. We desperately try to cram three hundred people into a carriage designed for sixty.

Today, a fat man tried to squeeze himself into the overstuffed compartment of the Uptown E Train, his ample backside squished between the carriage doors. His hefty buttocks were preventing the door from shutting, but he feigned innocence and astonishment when the conductor demanded: "Stand CLEAR of the door, Sir."

Riding twenty blocks uptown wasn't a very pleasant experience. Thank goodness I'm tall. A lot of the shorter people on the train found themselves eye-to-armpit or worse.

But, of course, acting idiotic on public transport is not an American invention. New Yorkers might be thoughtless and selfish as they wage their war against the other commuters, but they know the all-important rule. Don't do anything that might delay the train.

The greatest example of subway stupidity I've witnessed was on the Paris Metro, when the sliding doors simply refused to close because so many people were stuffed into the compartment.

"Move forward!" The conductor demanded. "Make room for the doors to close!"

As the passengers in the compartment breathed in and shuffled forward, they created about six inches of free space for the doors to close. Except before they could, an entire wave of eager passengers stepped off the platform to fill the newly vacated space.

If looks could kill, that conductor would be France's greatest serial killer.