The Jewel in the Crown?

Mike Bodnar ponders the frustrations of gaining an endorsement for his debut novel while facing the big problem of all self-publishers...

Caution: Analogy Ahead!

I have been given a valuable jewel, a shining faceted trinket, worth - in certain circumstances - a great deal, and yet also possibly worth nothing. I am in a dilemma. But let's do a quick recap first so you can better understand where I'm coming from...

I self-published my first novel (through Amazon KDP) in April this year. It's a spy thriller in the classic Cold War genre. I may have made a mistake tying it into a popular 1960s British TV series that even today, 55 years after it first screened, enjoys cult status. The series is called The Prisoner. Why a mistake? Read on...

My book - Unity: Peace for All, Freedom for None - takes the flipside of the television series and aims to give a fictional yet plausible behind-the-scenes story to make sense of the enigmatic offering on screen. Problem is, I don't own the rights to the series, and ITV (who do) won't enter into negotiations with me. So, it's published, sadly, as a work of what's called 'fan fiction' (a term I loathe, and a major mistake).

Being a self-publisher I don't have a marketing budget (and because the work is fan fiction I'm not allowed to profit from it, so there's another mistake). Therefore my marketing to date has been limited to a book launch, and lots of social media posts. But I have tried to get endorsements from other well-known authors in the hope their encouraging words might help people decide to purchase.

Fishing for compliments

I have had limited success. Robert Harris's publisher returned the book with a polite no, sorry. Most others didn't even respond. But I did get a lovely endorsement from one of the few remaining actors who starred in The Prisoner, Derren Nesbitt (also of Where Eagles Dare fame, and more), and although he described me as 'very talented', and a 'fine writer', he felt I'd made a mistake tying the book to the TV programme (biggest mistake endorsed by famous actor!)

I have, more recently however, received a glowing testimony from an author rather than an actor, one David Pinner, who wrote the novel Ritual that was turned into a film called The Wicker Man (also a cult classic). His full summation of Unity was thus:

"Unity is very well-written and shows good political nous. A fine thriller: it is also a work of sharp prose and great economy. ‘Art is the gift of saying the most with the least’ and Mike Bodnar knows this.’ "

Author David Pinner

Lovely. From that I have chosen 'A fine thriller' as the key takeaway, and it now adorns the cover of all versions: the eBook, paperback and hardcover. (And before you ask, yes it does pay to 'know people'. One of my oldest friends just happens to be acquainted with Pinner, so he acted as a go-between for me and cleared the way for Mr. P to read the book and comment on it. I am lucky.)

My main problem however remains: I still don't have a marketing budget, nor a publisher with a distribution network, nor any major literary platform on which to showcase Unity. Yes I now have a wonderful endorsement, but all I can afford to do is continue to bombard my (very) limited following on social media with it.

I do have a few other ideas up my literary promotional sleeve: I plan to send a copy of the book to ITV with both the endorsements in the hope they'll consider Unity as a potential screenplay. (It is in fact written very much in a filmic style). On the other hand they might just take me to court on some basis of copyright infringement, but let them try; the publicity could be invaluable!

Another is to send it to mainstream book reviewers (ditto the endorsements) in the hope that David Pinner's support makes them at least take notice rather than bin it outright. Guardian, The Times et al, you have been warned.

Reviews for the asking (and paying)

Whenever I post on X (the platform formerly known as Twitter) I get inundated with offers from soi disant reviewers saying they will review my book for their 10k, 100k, 250k followers in return for a certain amount of money - so far anywhere between US$30 and $45 plus cost of the book. Well no thanks; I don't hold with the ethics of paying for reviews which, to my mind, renders them worthless.

One thing I can hope for perhaps is that when I've finished writing my next novel (12k words so far but slow progress) which is not tied to any TV programme I can approach mainstream publishers with the endorsements I got for Unity as evidence that I at least know how to write. It might help.

But in the meantime I need to find a cheap (read: free) way of capitalising on David Pinner's wonderful words. I've done virtually everything I can using social media including even trying to give the book away for free (no takers, go figure). It's like finding a dropped diamond after a robbery of the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London: it's worth a fortune but you can't do anything with it.

Any literary gemologists out there?

Chasing the Zeitgeist

Mike Bodnar reveals how his research into 1967 Britain delayed finishing his book by a year...

An organic thing

I  started writing my spy thriller Unity in February 2021. The date is etched in my memory - all authors remember when they started a work, and what it was like to get those first few words on the page, knowing that the other 200 to 300 pages to come were still blank. Emptiness stretched before me; it was literary high-diving into the unknown.

But while every author starts with a blank page or screen, authors en groupe do not share a common way of working. Some plan and map out their novels in extreme detail, knowing chapter by chapter what they will be writing about. Others draw diagrams, with circles, boxes and arrows linking characters, plot and sub-plots, with dramatic high points highlighted.

Still others, like me, just start writing, with only a notion inside their head as to where their story is going. That's fine though; each to their own. But this latter leap-of-faith writing-as-it-comes approach is the way it works for me. I guess in today's parlance I write organically.

London, 1967

However, once I'd started writing Unity I soon found that I was easily distracted, because as my novel is set in 1967 Britain - almost 60 years ago - I realised as I wrote that I needed to confirm the memories that I had of those days. And let's be clear, in 1967 I was but 13 years old, so I didn't have adult memories to draw on, only the acne-ridden recollections of a broken-voiced youth who was more interested in science fiction than current affairs.

Which is how I found myself interrupting my writing to do research. Let me give you an example from the book: Chapter 2 - Virgil Street Garage, London. Here I was just about 100 words into the story and I needed to find a real street in which to site the 'government garage.' So off I went into Google Maps, checking out satellite and street views, and found Virgil Street, not far from Waterloo Station and also not too distant from MI6 headquarters, Century House.

I wanted a real street so that I could actually see it (I did even go and visit) and write about it factually. There is no garage there, but there's a decent space where one could have been 60 years ago.

Century House today

Century House too caused me to detour onto the Internet; I needed to confirm where the headquarters of MI6 were located in 1967, and it turned out to be at 100 Westminster Bridge Road, a tower block that today is re-clad and refurbished as apartments. Almost 60 years ago it was London's worst-kept secret, and any cabbie could take you there or show you where it was if you asked.

Geographical locations aside, I also wanted to establish the zeitgeist of 1967 by correctly referencing such common objects as telephone kiosks (I do remember how pongy they smelt inside, of tobacco smoke and worse), and the motor vehicles of the time: Rovers, Austins, Ford Cortinas and so on. I even researched the factory colours for the Ford Cortina used by Russian undercover agent Lillian Grimes and her partner Dmitri.

When MI6 Director General Stone lunches with Foreign Secretary George Brown (for it was he) at the Savoy Grill, Brown is so distracted by news of a top intelligence operative resigning that he fails to read the menu, and instead says to the waiter, 'Tell Silvino I'll have whatever he feels would go best with the '55 Cheval Blanc.'

Silvino was the name of the head chef at the Savoy at that time, should you care to research it for yourself. And yes, 1955 Chateau Cheval Blanc was indeed a fine Bordeaux vintage.

My point is that I thoroughly enjoyed chasing information down rabbit holes on the Internet, and I learned more than a few interesting things about the people, places and politics of 1967 Britain. I also became quite knowledgeable about the Browning Hi-Power .9mm pistol, how many rounds it could hold (13) and what its pedigree was (It was also the standard issue firearm to members of the SOE, the Special Operations Executive).

A Browning Hi-Power .9mm

In fact, I often got so absorbed doing the research that almost a whole day would go by with hardly a single page of Unity written, and I have a feeling that had I just concentrated on writing the book instead of going off at tangents it would have been ready for publication a whole year before it was in fact released.

So, what difference does it make whether such details are accurate? Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but there are pernickety readers out there who would delight in finding inconsistencies or historical inaccuracies in a novel, and more than a few reviewers who would use those as ammunition to shoot down self-published novels as being sloppy or lazy. I didn't want to give anyone the opportunity for such schadenfreude, but equally I wanted the story to ring true to anyone who read it, critic or not.

Above all, I wanted to believe in what I was writing myself; the research helped me visualise my characters, how they spoke and acted, whether they smoked, drank bitter or vermouth, wore a hat, or how they determined distance on a map without the aid of Google or the UK Distance Calculator app.

Foreign Secretary George Brown,
'tired and emotional'

The melange of real people - especially the politicians of the day such as George Brown, Alec Douglas-Home, and Prime Minister Harold Wilson - adds weight to the story too, and I as an author felt safe in the knowledge that I wouldn't end up in court for using them: you can't, as a writer, defame the dead. Anyway, Foreign Secretary George Brown really did have a drinking problem, and there were rumours within the intelligence community that there was a plot to oust Harold Wilson. 

My reward for spending so much time on the research comes in the form of feedback and reviews. One perceptive comment, by a doctor of literature no less, notes, 'It's sharply honed thriller-writing, comparable with the very best in the field. Amongst the reading pleasures are the clever and devastating links to 60s political figures and what I call the 'faction' effect: you find yourself wondering: 'Is this actually fiction or has the author got the lowdown on what actually happened?'

Another says, 'I'm staggered with the quality of the writing and the attention to detail.'

Actor Derren Nesbitt

Perhaps the highest compliment comes from veteran actor Derren Nesbitt (star of The Prisoner, Where Eagles Dare, Special Branch and, more recently, the acclaimed movie Tucked) who emailed to tell me that he thinks I am 'a very fine writer... very talented' after he'd read Unity.

I seriously doubt many readers ever bother to investigate whether certain events in novels actually happened (I mean, they are novels after all, works of fiction), or whether some of the characters were real, but in the case of Unity I don't mind if they do check. I did deliberately include extra background information at the end of the book highlighting some of the realities, such as biological warfare experiments undertaken on the British public without their knowledge, details about the British intermediate range ballistic missile the Blue Streak, and Section VII, a division of MI6 which, during World War 2, trained young people as saboteurs, resistance fighters and even killers. That end section is designed to make you go, 'Wow! Really?'

I have started on my next novel and already I'm delving in-depth into the Internet, this time for the zeitgeist of 1970 Northern Ireland, and the beginning of what came to be known as 'The Troubles.' Alec Douglas-Home will be making an appearance again, this time as foreign secretary, and Edward Heath is the prime minister. There will be Ford Transit vans, and I can tell you even now that yes, in 1970, you could hire a car from the Dublin airport branch of Avis Rent-a-Car.

Please excuse me, I have much research to do...

Mike's next book The Liscannor Intercept should be out before Christmas 2023 (but might not be!)

There And Back Again - A Visit to Hobbiton

Like Tolkien's diminutive hero Bilbo Baggins, Mike Bodnar goes on an adventure - to Middle Earth...

Hobbiton, Middle Earth, New Zealand

It's a well-known fact that New Zealand provided the backdrops for Peter Jackson's epic Tolkien movie trilogy The Lord of the Rings, and later The Hobbit. Aotearoa take a bow.

Nothing is more testament to this starring role than the influx of tourists New Zealand experienced once the first films were released; people from all over our own earth were desperate to see Middle Earth for themselves. Wikipedia notes in reference to the LOTR movies: The annual tourist influx to New Zealand grew 40%, from 1.7 million in 2000 to 2.4 million in 2006, which some have attributed to be to a large degree due [sic] to The Lord of the Rings phenomenon.

This tree above Bag End is completely fake

It's also a fact, however, that most film sets are ephemeral, and usually built of materials such as polystyrene, timber, fibreglass, plaster, and so on, so it should come as no surprise to tourists that even if they do make the pilgrimage to Aotearoa in search of Middle Earth, they are going to be out of luck if they want to actually see Rivendell, Minas Tirith or Helm's Deep. The sets were torn down after filming, often because they were on public land, and their destruction and disposal was part of the filming arrangements.

Rivendell is a good example. The verdant location for the Elven dwelling was in Kaitoke Regional Park, north of the capital, Wellington. The park is operated by Greater Wellington Regional Council, and although Jackson and his crew had access to the area for many months, and erected various walls, 'stone' steps, plazas, rooms, even a fake bubbling stream, there is now nothing to see of any of it. (That said, it's such a pretty part of Wellington it deserves a visit in its own right, and local LOTR tours will show you exactly where certain scenes were shot).

The site for Hobbiton, overlooking the water

But there is one location that does exist, and it's perhaps the most relevant and Mecca-like of all: Bilbo and Frodo's home settlement of Hobbiton, in The Shire.

Jackson chose the North Island location for its relative ease of access, its similarity in part to
English countryside, and the fact that it had a hill overlooking a body of water, as described by Tolkien in his books. It was - and is - on a working farm, so as with all the other sets, Hobbiton's Hobbit homes, gardens, bridges, even the Green Dragon pub, were all temporary structures.

The farm is owned by the Alexander family, and to their credit - and no doubt financial benefit - they reached a partnership agreement with Jackson's lot to recreate Hobbiton and to rebuild it in accordance with modern construction codes, so that visitors could enjoy it today. The result is something to strike joy into the heart of the coldest Orc in the land.

Where it all starts: the Shire's Rest Cafe

Needless to say it is hugely popular. On a recent trip to New Zealand we had booked a month or so in advance, critical in summer when most people visit, though it is open all year round except Christmas Day.

Two things impress: one is the attention to detail throughout Hobbiton, and the other is how well-run the operation is. Let's start and dispense with the operational stuff.

Of necessity, and because Hobbiton is on a working farm (a couple of hours' drive south of Auckland for reference), you can't just turn up and wander round unaccompanied. The attraction is extremely popular, so tours assemble and depart from The Shire's Rest Café, which is beside the road that passes the Alexander's farm. There's a Gondor-sized car park and a check-in reception. Plenty of seating indoors and outdoors, and the food and drink options are commendable. And loads of toilets!

The tour begins...

The tours are staggered so that you're not tripping over each other, but you can check the
details (and make bookings) on the Hobbiton Movie Set tours site. I encourage you to do so; but I'd rather use this blog to reminisce about the experience. In a word: wizard!

Each tour group of approximately 30 people is taken by bus through the farm to where the Hobbiton set is. A video along the way means that both Sir Peter and Mr Alexander welcome you to the experience, which is all very jolly, but of course you spend your time looking out of the bus windows in the hope of a glimpse of Middle Earth (which you do get).

Me with Peter Jackson on the set of Rivendell,
circa 2000. Polystyrene, timber, fake stone,
even fake lichen!

There are rules, as the guide explains. No wandering off, stick to the paths, keep together, and that's about it. Our guide, a Welsh lass called Louise, was very good at explaining some of the cinematic techniques used during filming, highlighting details of the set, testing our LOTR knowledge, and she always seemed ready to answer questions or discuss things. I bored her with my story of how I chatted with Peter Jackson at Rivendell when he was shooting scenes there. She was very polite.

But oh my, what a lovely place. Hobbiton has been perfectly recreated, with all the essence of the settlement captured in perfect and extreme detail. You walk along winding paths through gorgeous scenery, past numerous 'Hobbit holes', their front doors all painted a different colour, their front gardens personalised with flowers, stalls of honey or cheese, even Hobbit-sized waistcoats and breeches hanging on washing lines.

There are over 40 Hobbit holes

If, like me, you've been a fan of both The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings stories for years, then you'll be transported back to the books. There's no sign of Hobbits of course (although smoke curls teasingly from at least one chimney) but I have to say I actually felt somewhat emotional, almost overwhelmed by what I was seeing.

As an 11-year-old, immersed in the Lord of the Rings books for the first time, I yearned to live in Middle Earth. My real earth wasn't all that good - I'd just started senior school and hated it. I escaped into the Rings books as often as possible and went journeying with Frodo and Sam; they took me away from the harsh realities of daily school life. Give me a Nazgûl over our demonic headmaster any day.

So for me, visiting this Kiwi Hobbiton was like arriving at a place I'd known about for decades, a place with which I was totally familiar, and yet one which by definition of its being fictional, didn't exist. And yet here it was. And it was perfect. Almost as though Hobbiton had really existed, and Tolkien had been there and written about it. Written about this place. I felt he would have been proud, had he been able to join our tour.

Nearly all the Hobbit homes are facades built into the hillsides, so most of the doors don't open and you can't duck in for a cup of tea, a puff of rough shag, or a pint of Rosie's cider, but that doesn't matter. I could empathise, because when we lived in New Zealand we built our own Hobbit hole façade, our own Bag End in fact, on a hillside at the back of our house. Unfortunately we sold the property before the

Our own 'Bag End' which became
a condition of purchase

grass could properly establish over it (see pic), but on the other hand the new owners - the husband worked for Weta Workshop and was involved in the special effects for Jackson's films - made it a condition of purchase that we left our Bag End in situ. We were happy to oblige (but I plan to make another one one day!).

The 'real' Bag End

Some in our tour group (myself included) wanted photographs of course, and here's the challenge: getting a shot of a Hobbit dwelling (and Bilbo's home 'Bag End' in particular) without other tour members in shot. The trick, I discovered, is to be the last in the group, so that everyone has moved on just far enough that you're left with a people-free photo opportunity. The downside of this is that you're likely to

miss out on what your guide at the front is saying, or that she'll turn the Eye of Sauron on you and burn you to ashes for dawdling. That's a risk I was willing to take. I'm still here.

As you can see from some of the images included here, my tactic worked, even to the point of getting Bag End without one of those large pesky men-folk in shot.

A detail that particularly impressed me about this reconstructed movie set was that in any gateway, or fence, or door or signpost, I did not see a single Philips screw or alloy nut and bolt. No stainless steel fittings, no MDF board. Everything was as it would have been in Middle Earth, and rightly so. Nothing looked new either; there was a quaint rustic charm and patina to everything, an appropriate lived-in look.

The bridge past the Mill leading to The Green Dragon

The tours, although well controlled, are not rushed. It takes about an hour to amble through the leafy byways, and to gaze in wonder at the to-scale Hobbit homes and gardens, and there's a bonus, my precious: the tour concludes at the quaint thatched Green Dragon pub with a free pint of cider, beer or soft drink. The Green Dragon, you'll be pleased to know, is human-sized, so there's no ducking down to get in or banging your head on the beamed ceilings.

The Green Dragon, complete with Hobbit

And because it was a nice day for our tour, most people took their drinks outside, which enabled me to get a shot of the interior without any people in it. Except for one child sitting at a table, and charmingly he actually was Hobbit-sized so fits into the scene perfectly.

A visit to Hobbiton is (obviously) something I'd recommend. Of course it helps if you've read the books or seen the films, but the place is so pretty, so perfect anyway, that even if you don't know a Hobbit from an Orc or a warg from a cave troll, you'd almost certainly still enjoy it.

If you do go, and your tour guide sears you to ashes for loitering to take photos at the back of the group, you can blame me. But remember to tell them that you're there because I recommended it. As I said earlier, it's wizard.