Today we have novelist and poet Alan Calder at Lindsay's Romantics, chatting about his debut title, 'The Stuart Agenda'. Welcome, Alan!
Your novel is based on a very original and also topical idea. Would you like to tell us more about the inspiration of that idea and how you developed it?
As my thoughts were turning to novel writing, I was reading the seminal 'Holy Blood and the Holy Grail', which had been in print for some time and was clearly also being read by Dan Brown, since the 'Da Vinci Code' appeared a few years later. A sceptical mind is attracted to conspiracy theories, particularly on the epic scale laid out in 'The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail'. I found it deliciously blasphemous that the blood lines of some of our most famous families might be descended from Christ.
In particular, the Catholic Royal House of Stuart seemed doubly blessed in being connected through both Mary Magdalene and Joseph of Arimathea. This might explain the Stuart’s insistence on divine right to absolute rule under God, without the intervention of Parliament. This stance, along with their inconvenient Catholicism, cost some of them their heads and eventually, after the protestant daughters of James II failed to produce living heirs, extinguished the Stuart flame. This made way for the protestant Hanoverians, who could claim distant Stuart ancestry through a daughter of Charles I, over the heads of a long list of Catholics at the head of which was Bonnie Prince Charlie’s father.
The failure of the subsequent Jacobite rebellions, ending in the defeat of Bonnie Prince Charlie, grandson of James II, at Culloden in 1746, finally consigned the dynasty to a footnote in history. It was a great comfort to the Hanoverians that neither Bonnie Prince Charlie, nor his brother, an eminent Catholic Cardinal, had any legitimate heirs. The lack of a future generation of Stuart champions and the brutal suppression and ethnic cleansing of Jacobites, especially in the Highlands of Scotland, led the Stuart cause to fizzle out.
The final trigger for The Stuart Agenda was a book written by the self-styled ‘Prince Michael of Albany’. In The Forgotten Monarchy of Scotland, he tried to turn history on its head by claiming that Bonnie Prince Charlie married again late in his life and had a legitimate son, from whom he is directly descended. ‘Prince Michael’ claims, not surprisingly, that the Hanoverian spin doctors airbrushed this inconvenient and threatening marriage and birth, out of the history books.
It’s a good conspiracy story and it did make me wonder. Could a new legitimate but hitherto hidden Stuart scion be implanted into the developing Scottish political and constitutional scene? At this moment the Nationalists are forming their first majority government, although the vote looks more like a personal mandate for the brilliant and charismatic Alex Salmond, than an expression of thirst for independence, but you have to start somewhere.
The current Nationalist constitutional holding position is that Scotland would retain the Hanoverian monarchy. This is surely a disingenuous platform that has more to do with the softly softly, step by step approach to independence, than red blooded royalism. At independence, the Scots would want to vote directly on their preferred constitutional model and that would probably be a republic. But what if a charismatic young Stuart appeared to reclaim his inheritance?
The Stuart Agenda is set well into the future in the 2030’s and assumes that the path to Scottish independence will be long and tortuous and that the current euphoric position is merely a false dawn. It is also now clear that the royal couple on the British throne in the timeframe of the novel will probably be the recently married William and Kate, now styled the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.
What draws you to writing about Scotland?
Scotland and its history has certainly been the stimulus for both The Stuart Agenda and my second book, The Glorious Twelfth which is in final manuscript form. Both are contemporary thrillers in which the characters are handed their roles from history. The draw for me has been the direct interest in Scottish history, which has thrown up intriguing ‘what ifs’ and conspiracy theories. At the same time my characters do travel, especially to France where I lived for a few years in the 1980’s.
In fact my third book is based there, with no connection to Scotland, although it is based on an interpretation of a period of French history this time, plus a juicy conspiracy theory.
Do you plot your stories in detail or do you launch yourself straight in? Or is it a mixture?
This sounds like the ‘How do you write question.’ I start with an idea eg in the case of The Stuart Agenda, the key idea is that Bonnie Prince Charlie did indeed have legitimate descendents. That reality gave a basic cast of characters headed by the Stuart scion and his key supporters. A particular difficulty with The Stuart Agenda was knowing where to start in the lifecycle of the hero. In the earliest version of the story I began before he was born. Several versions later the published story begins with the Stuart scion as a teenager at Gordonstoun. I also had to create a motivation for the Stuart family to take on such a seemingly impossible task, recovering the throne of Scotland, nearly three hundred years after Culloden. On that base I plotted several chapters ahead and enjoyed the experience of being led by the characters themselves and creating the elaborate loops that bind them all together.
Do you write every day?
I am not a disciplined every day writer. I tend to write in manic bursts for up to two weeks at a time. Then I take a break and begin to mull the next steps before building up to write again. I’m also finding that being published means you have to spend a lot of time promoting the book. I don’t find that as satisfying as writing.
Are you excited about being part of the ebook revolution? What advantages do you think there are to being e-published?
e-Publishing is exciting and for many new writers, weary of the traditional publisher’s slush piles, it is the art of the possible. It represents a practical route to getting published either by the new breed of smaller mainly US publishers who are innovating or by many of the self-publishing independent routes being established. The current growth rate of e-published books is spectacular. They are here to stay and over time will become the dominant access vehicle for the general reader.
When you're not writing, how do you relax?
I do read a lot on current affairs, business, politics and science, particularly genetics, a habit from my senior executive days. For fiction, I enjoy history and the novels of writers like Sebastian Faulks, although I found ‘Human Traces’ rather hard going. At this moment I’m reading ‘On thin Ice’ by Richard Ellis. He charts the changing world and fortunes of the polar bear. I’m also reading ‘The Scots, A Genetic Journey’ by Alistair Moffat and Jim Wilson. The latter prompted me to have my Y-Chromosome status checked. I’m Celtic in origin, not a Viking like many of my Caithness compatriots.
I’ve also recently read ‘One day’ by David Nicholls. I liked the idea of the book, the structure that led us through the frustrated lives of the characters. I didn’t like the end; I thought that the heroine’s demise lacked imagination, as though the author was completely exhausted by the time he got to that bit. Nevertheless I’m looking forward to the weepy film.
In the lulls between bursts of novel writing I increasingly enjoy writing poetry. There is certainly more instant gratification in crafting a few pleasing verses about the human condition or a rant about wind farms or even a piece to explain and explore what some aspect of science means. I certainly see all that as legitimate territory for poets.
Lest I give an impression of being study bound, I should also say that I like cooking, eating well and drinking wine. Salmon fishing is one of my little luxuries; I’ll spend the first week of October on the Thurso River in Caithness, with old friends from America. We’ve already started the countdown prayers for the right amount of water, wind, cloud cover etc without which we shall have perfect excuses for catching very little.
Please share a blurb and excerpt with us.
Blurb
In 2035, young Robert Stuart sets out on a journey to recapture the Scottish throne in an independent Scotland. A cast of conspirators led by his great uncle Leo prepare the political and constitutional ground for him. Robert meets and falls in love with the beautiful Hanoverian Princess Victoria, providing a basis for a dynastic compromise. Robert has to overcome strong resistance from the Hanoverian establishment and from within his own family if he is to succeed in his ambition.
Excerpt
Robert’s declaration on the Culloden Battlefield.
The Prince’s troops, exhausted after the long retreat from Derby, faced a disciplined professional force, superior in numbers and weaponry. The unsuccessful Highland charges were cut down by grapeshot. It was all over in less than an hour before the Prince escaped and the Highlands were put to the sword by the butcher Cumberland. Robert was transfixed by the monumental injustice of what had happened beneath his feet all those years ago. A righteous anger welled up within him and erupted in tears running down his cheeks from his overflowing heart, his head demanding vengeance and accepting the challenge. ‘Don’t torture yourself,’ said Leo. ‘As you are my witness and before God, I pledge myself to recover the throne of Scotland for the Stuarts,’ said Robert, in a strong, emotion charged voice. The two of them stood silently, frozen by Robert’s historic declaration, a team now committed to reverse the history that confronted them on Culloden Moor.
Robert’s Speech at the Glenfinnan Highland Games
‘Chieftain, brother Scots and friends; I’ve come here today to tap the spirit of the Prince himself and replant the Stuart roots that have succoured me in my long personal journey to stand before you here today in the bright sunshine. I’ve come from France just like the Prince, without an army. My sword is my Stuart blood and my shield the strong desire of the Scottish people to manage their own affairs in the constitutional manner of their choice. If the people of Scotland ordain it, I will with great humility accept the call to become Sovereign, in their name. Scotland is a great country, we are a great people, and let’s seize the future together to make it even better.’
The Queen and Robert’s Great Aunt Francoise at Buckingham Palace
‘They’re so much in love, Victoria and Robert; they would make a wonderful royal couple as Queen and King of Scotland, don’t you think?’ asked the Queen, ignoring Françoise’s reply. ‘So, you want an arranged marriage?’ Françoise, felt faint as the implications sunk in. She was torn between branding Robert a traitor to the cause and screaming for joy at such a romantic outcome.
Leo recoils at the thought of Robert marrying a Hanoverian
‘Calculated pragmatism and love; strange bedfellows, aren’t they?’ he began, with his arms splayed out on the table and his head low, looking down. ‘You all know where I stand. I’m not going to trade it for a mess of potage called a Hanoverian marriage, even if it did improve our chances. Were we not confident that Robert could succeed anyway on his own merits?’ asked Leo, sitting up straight and looking round them, daring anyone to challenge his entrenched position. ‘This is all very difficult for Leo,’ said Françoise, putting her hand on his arm. ‘Well, can we all at least agree to let the PR people have a go at the issue? I know that you disapprove of our calculation Leo, but we have to operate in the real world,’ said Sir Duncan, playing for time. ‘Who’s real world? I’ve had enough of this, I’m going back to Paris,’ he announced, standing up and storming out of the room.
Alan Calder – Biographical
Alan was born in Wick in the far North of Scotland and gained a chemistry PhD at Aberdeen University before a career in Research and Development with ICI and Zeneca. He took up the pen in early retirement and enjoys writing contemporary thrillers with their roots in history, as well as poetry. He lives with his wife in Yorkshire, England near his grown up family. Summers are spent in Scotland, writing, fishing and doing heritage projects.
You can read excerpts from The Stuart Agenda and download from Willow Moon Publishing as a PDF to computer, i-Pad, Nook etc. You can also free read the first few chapters on amazon.com or amazon.co.uk and download to a Kindle.
Showing posts with label Alan Calder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alan Calder. Show all posts
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Welcome to Valentine's Poetry Week at Lindsay's Romantics!
Welcome to Valentine's Poetry Week at Lindsay's Romantics! We're celebrating Valentine's Day, love and romance all this week through the medium of poetry. Poetry is the oldest, most expressive, most intense literary form. It captures and reveals our deepest feelings and enables us to share those emotions with others. So here at the start of our Valentine Poetry Week are some love poems, written by us.
The Stalactite
If we turn to stone above our organic time let me be a stalactite hanging over you
feeding you drop by drop like a new born
growing a crystal jewel
reaching up closing the distance
an aching gap that mortality rent between our lips
building a bridge until they touch again that kiss
to seal anew the bond that made the spiral column of pure white bliss
memorial to love ten thousand years before.
Alan Calder, Poet and author at Willowmoon Press:
http://www.willowmoonpublishing.com/authors.html
Lovers Undress
You're a shaft of light
In my crimson evening.
Let's make each other beautiful;
You in a silver ball gown,
Shoulders shine above it
Above superb resilient breasts.
Slow, sensual dance, rustling fabrics,
Hands, breath to lips and tongues
Held through this breeze.
I've striven in my work-outs
For this moment;
I'm yours to relish,
you're mine to savour.
So now undo me, see legs first
- Yours I'll match
Now find my waist and torso
- Feel at first
And then unbutton,
Peel and see.
In shorts I stand before you now,
Athletic
You're throbbing for the next -
You take my waistband, draw
Now I'm just in trunks
- Erotic in your smouldering light.
I'll do the same for you, I'm delicate
with zips and buttons, buckles
Release your gown,
A glittering parachute
and you step out
- In what I dreamed you'd wear:
A purple strapless one-piece
Clinging to your toned lovely form
A one-piece proclaims
A woman's fullest power - Concealing, revealing,
Balance just right - to draw on,
and you can wear one
Before all others.
Now you're my bathing beauty,
I am yours.
The water calls us, shimmering warm;
Let's slice the waves,
Please do the backstroke, let me see
Your breasts, your thighs
Thrusting through the surface
And now an underwater kiss
Now to the shore.
You lie on me, I rub your back
Our costumes dry, peel off
and now deep cleaving
Of thigh and groin.
You are so deep , so strong in love
Made thunderstorms;
You frightened all the others off
Yet drew me out;
Let me embrace my feminine
In our unrobing
Submission? domination?
Now those terms
Lose all pretence of meaning,
In the flooding flames of total love.
You're a shaft of light
In my crimson evening.
David Russell
~~~~~~ Zurroc's Love Poem to Kytaira
I know my tigress.
Wild fierce energy burning, she is large of heart.
Kind to those in need, she is a predator for justice.
Currents of white-hot fire arc between us when her Tigress spirit mates with my Tiger soul.
Ancient passions ignite when we tangle, woman and man becoming one.
Savage is another name for the beauty of my Tigress.
She frees me, my woman.
For, what is untamed in me growls to caress what is untamed in her.
From ~ Tigress Shapeshifter... meet the new boss, worse than the old boss... by Savanna Kougar
Sunny days I spent with you
Memories to last my whole life through
From bronze to silver then to gold
This is how our lives unfold
Simple thoughts, simple pleasures
Worth more than any treasures
Margaret Maguire, Poet and Writer.
My Forever Valentine.
As young lovers, finding each other their urgent lips and bodies entwine.
Forty years on the rush is for the hot wheat bag that they find divine.
My love for you takes my youthful breathe away.
My ancient bones tell me, if I chase there will be a delay.
New-born love; so fragile, so precious, so inane,
Ripened love, mellowed and tempered by life,
sees the sprint of youth as insane.
Fresh hearts are easily given away,
bruised beings retreat, in the hope of loving another someday.
Spring like spirit scatters its seed far and wide,
Autumn’s sprite knows a more fruitful place for its kernel to hide.
And as the last of the summer’s sun begins to fade
and our thoughts turn to a hardier time,
We will still be together; sharing our memories,
our hot water bottle, our life
and you will always be mine.
Candida Heard, writer and poet
Real Time
Turn off the satellites,
Throw away the phones,
I don't want to speak.
I need ROSES, bouquets,
Heart to heart.
Facebook OFF-
love ME!
Christine Hirst, writer and photographer. (Christine took the sunset photograph at the top of this post.)
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Midsummer Poetry Week, day seven
When she smiles she commands
Zygomatic major to lift
The corners of her mouth
Levitation of passionate lips
Of trust, friendship and flirting
Evolution’s opening face gambit
Lulls our base suspicions
Eyes join in orbicularis oculi
Direct a crow’s dance on her cheeks
Pointing to the source of light
Brown pools of passion to drown in
Draped in alabaster
La Giaconda that smile or was it?
In the heat of life we need to be clear
It depends how you look at her
A subtle ambiguity, a weak signal
Best viewed from the corner of the eye
Yes, there is something there
Perhaps a promise of a smile
Gazed at by millions of punters
Airheading round the Louvre
Perhaps she saying ‘I would smile
If you all stopped looking at me’
Is that the enigma?
Alan Calder
[Pictures from Wikimedia Commons]
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Midsummer Poetry Week, Day One
Welcome to the start of our Midsummer Poetry Week on the Lindsay's Romantics blog! Here to open are two poets from my own local writing group: Alan Calder and Margaret Maguire.
The Chemistry of Love
Sin from thy lips? Oh trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again.
William Shakespeare
Two specks of nubile dust coalesce
In the infinity of space and time
A low probability event, it happens
Anywhere called destiny
Or is it really down to chemistry?
Hands melt together in warm caress
Fingers knot round fingers
Keeping in fond light touch
Enough to fan the next flame
In the dark quiet corner
Lips seek out soft quivering lips
The passport gateway to all else
Four slivers of flesh colliding
Teasing, searching, sensing
Pouting, puckering, pressure
Signalling passion explodes in
A hormone high tide that
Sweeps them far upstream on
Waves of strident urging molecules

Phenylethylamine sets them on fire
Dopamine makes them feel good
Norepinephidrine makes their hearts race
The level of sinister serotonin drops
A symptom of another form of
Obsessive compulsive disorder
Or the up phase of manic depression
Plato said it was a mental illness
A cocktail chain that binds them
Drowning them in each other
Lifebelts invisible in their blindness
Two hermit crabs outside their shells
Nature’s drug fuelled purpose
Storm troopers from its Ministry of Population
We know what it wants, it isn’t pious
Our ancestors whisper in our ears
Addicts in that chemistry of life
Cast on that sun kissed beach
They build a castle in the sands of lust
But who would want to say
‘I’ve fallen in lust’
With its Biblical bad press and baggage
Better to call it Love-Stage 1
In love with the idea of being in love

But beware of the withdrawal symptoms
If you’re abandoned there by your mate
The opposite of love is empty grief
Only you can say whether it was better
To have loved and lost than never loved at all
If you break up try not to break down
But who told dopamine and friends to strike?
Not every kiss leads to short term bliss
Is there a winged messenger?
A chemical cupid twixt lip and life
A pheromone that throws the switch
To say that A’s ok a compatible genetic mix
But B’s a frog, get real, no chance
Do we really want to know that?
And have to find a mate in a lab
Dating adverts, chemical formulae
It might save time for lonely moths
Who never seem to find the flame
Pheromone free zones perhaps?
Let’s leave this part a mystery
Once you’ve found it will it last?
Not that drug fuelled phase
That keeps the heart cuffs on
The tide goes out to leave an itch
To scratch in four to seven years
Time to make a babe or three
And move on to Love- Phase 2
But some are primed to seek others
To extend the human gene pool

So then the love struck junkies
Addicted to that initial ecstasy
Need that aching surging rush
They start afresh along the shore
Condemned to play there forever
Singing that same old song again
Does anything grow in salty sand?
Or is that backward moral bollocks?
If you’re lucky and patient
You will find the soothing peace
Of deep and everlasting love
The novelty of the sandy beach
Must move onto firmer ground
Built on a million memories
And foundations of all things shared
No high pressure chemistry
A gentle balm of endorphins entwines
And oxytocin keeps the cuddles going
It’s in our psyche to work for
What nature makes us desire
A long journey not a sporting event
Evolving with the seasons
Each with its different rhythm
Facing life with one mind
All an investment in fusing souls
Together till death do you part
In hope to meet again
And do it all another time
Alan Calder
My Life long friend
To start our journey I send a kiss
For a life of wedded bliss,
Our first home sparkling and new
A love so faithful and true.
Our lives to spend together come
What may to stay forever,
This we will learn from one another
Truth, love, joy and sorrow.
The journey is never going to end
With you my life long friend.
Many explorations to be done,
The future’s going to be such fun.
We may travel far to distant lands,
Or simply stay close at hand.
When life has gone, we will journey
On through all eternity.
Margaret Maguire
[Pictures by Victor Harris from the garden of Barry Kellington.]
The Chemistry of LoveSin from thy lips? Oh trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again.
William Shakespeare
Two specks of nubile dust coalesce
In the infinity of space and time
A low probability event, it happens
Anywhere called destiny
Or is it really down to chemistry?
Hands melt together in warm caress
Fingers knot round fingers
Keeping in fond light touch
Enough to fan the next flame
In the dark quiet corner
Lips seek out soft quivering lips
The passport gateway to all else
Four slivers of flesh colliding
Teasing, searching, sensing
Pouting, puckering, pressure
Signalling passion explodes in
A hormone high tide that
Sweeps them far upstream on
Waves of strident urging molecules

Phenylethylamine sets them on fire
Dopamine makes them feel good
Norepinephidrine makes their hearts race
The level of sinister serotonin drops
A symptom of another form of
Obsessive compulsive disorder
Or the up phase of manic depression
Plato said it was a mental illness
A cocktail chain that binds them
Drowning them in each other
Lifebelts invisible in their blindness
Two hermit crabs outside their shells
Nature’s drug fuelled purpose
Storm troopers from its Ministry of Population
We know what it wants, it isn’t pious
Our ancestors whisper in our ears
Addicts in that chemistry of life
Cast on that sun kissed beach
They build a castle in the sands of lust
But who would want to say
‘I’ve fallen in lust’
With its Biblical bad press and baggage
Better to call it Love-Stage 1
In love with the idea of being in love

But beware of the withdrawal symptoms
If you’re abandoned there by your mate
The opposite of love is empty grief
Only you can say whether it was better
To have loved and lost than never loved at all
If you break up try not to break down
But who told dopamine and friends to strike?
Not every kiss leads to short term bliss
Is there a winged messenger?
A chemical cupid twixt lip and life
A pheromone that throws the switch
To say that A’s ok a compatible genetic mix
But B’s a frog, get real, no chance
Do we really want to know that?
And have to find a mate in a lab
Dating adverts, chemical formulae
It might save time for lonely moths
Who never seem to find the flame
Pheromone free zones perhaps?
Let’s leave this part a mystery
Once you’ve found it will it last?
Not that drug fuelled phase
That keeps the heart cuffs on
The tide goes out to leave an itch
To scratch in four to seven years
Time to make a babe or three
And move on to Love- Phase 2
But some are primed to seek others
To extend the human gene pool

So then the love struck junkies
Addicted to that initial ecstasy
Need that aching surging rush
They start afresh along the shore
Condemned to play there forever
Singing that same old song again
Does anything grow in salty sand?
Or is that backward moral bollocks?
If you’re lucky and patient
You will find the soothing peace
Of deep and everlasting love
The novelty of the sandy beach
Must move onto firmer ground
Built on a million memories
And foundations of all things shared
No high pressure chemistry
A gentle balm of endorphins entwines
And oxytocin keeps the cuddles going
It’s in our psyche to work for
What nature makes us desire
A long journey not a sporting event
Evolving with the seasons
Each with its different rhythm
Facing life with one mind
All an investment in fusing souls
Together till death do you part
In hope to meet again
And do it all another time
Alan Calder
My Life long friend
To start our journey I send a kiss
For a life of wedded bliss,
Our first home sparkling and new
A love so faithful and true.
Our lives to spend together comeWhat may to stay forever,
This we will learn from one another
Truth, love, joy and sorrow.
The journey is never going to end
With you my life long friend.
Many explorations to be done,
The future’s going to be such fun.
We may travel far to distant lands,
Or simply stay close at hand.
When life has gone, we will journey
On through all eternity.
Margaret Maguire
[Pictures by Victor Harris from the garden of Barry Kellington.]
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