Olga Swan: French Notes from a Broad

Good morning, Olga. Welcome to The Knitted Curiosity Cabinet.

olga swan paradis

Tell us about your new book. What genre does it belong to? What inspired you to write it? Is it based on history, or current events – or is it a wild flight of fancy?

My new release ‘Pensioners in Paradis: French Notes From A Broad’ (authl.it/86j) is one of Crooked Cat’s True Cats Non-Fiction Range. It is pretty much autobiographical, charting our hysterical journey from being self-deprecating, depressive Brummies, steeped in life’s troubles, and whisking us across the Channel. Readers will laugh with us as we encounter hilarious situations en France – from troublesome workmen, the infamous bureaucracy, and even sex à la française! You can take notes on this transition from English doom and gloom to la belle vie française, and follow the exploits of this oh-so-recognisable English couple. What could possibly go wrong?

Come to the launch party on its full release day of 29th August 2017 by clicking on facebook.com/events/158998377995657  and join in the fun. There’ll be signed book prizes, music, comedy videos and special guest author appearances: all talking about hilarious cultural differences between the English and other countries.

Who is your favourite character? What particularly inspired you to write his or her story? Is your character warm and winning, or prickly and difficult? How does their personality affect the way you choose to write about them?

 Well it has to be Him Indoors with his own particular brand of humour. Whether it’s selling hammers at knock-down prices, directing customers who are looking to get felt in the market or dealing with French workmen, it’s all written in his own inimitable style. You just have to laugh with him.

What about location? Why did you choose this setting? Do you know the area well? Or is it somewhere you can visit only in imagination? How can you readers best imagine the landscape in which your books are set?

 It starts in familiar Midlands’ territory, moving to S.W. France, where we lived for 12 years. The book contrasts the urban English working world with the idyllic setting of our first French house on the banks of the river Aveyron, with details of such French delights as colourful market days, local games of pétanque, le bien manger at tasty restaurants etc. 

What’s coming up next? Are you working on a new novel? What else have you written?

olga swan 3rd degree

To date four of my books have been published by Crooked Cat. All have Birmingham characters. 3rd Degree Murder (authl.it/4ia)  is a novel based on my 30 years’ work at the University of Birmingham;  Lamplight (authl.it/4q0) is book 1 in the David Klein war reporter series, covering 1912 – 1938; Vichyssoise (authl.it/52l) is book 2, featuring the Vichy government during WW2, based on original French research. I am also writing a series for children, under my own name of Gillian Green – 3 are published with 4 yet to come (www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B013IBD4PU)

olga swan lamplight vichy

Every Sunday I write a blog on current events, political, cultural or geographical, which draws a regular audience from around the world. Have you read it yet? Olgaswan.blogspot.com.

 Many thanks Yvonne for allowing me space on your popular blog. It is much appreciated. Must dash – I’m currently reading your novel Walking on Wild Air and don’t want to miss the next bit.

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‘Christmas Landing’ for Crooked Cat’s Christmas

Day 4 of Christmas with the Crooked Cats’ advent calendar.

Crater Under a Big Sky

Intergalactic Seed Ship Hawthorn. Second Officer’s Log.

Day 1: We’ve made it. Successful landing on the planet we’re calling Christmas, because that’s the date by which the first extraterrestrial human colony will be up and running. The preparations took years, but now our crew of three is about to begin to revive the colonists, and the day we’ve waited for will finally arrive.

Day 3: the instruments are all telling us that it’s safe to open the hatch. There’s a breathable atmosphere out there. I wonder what we’ll find.

Day 7: more of us are being revived each day. It’s starting to look like a real settlement, but I can’t help feeling depressed. We knew things would be different, but I’d hoped for trees. Green things. Something a bit more like home used to be. We’ll get to work planting just as soon as the ground is prepared, but at the moment everything is barren and dry. Not a living thing as far as the eye can see.

Of course, for all we know the ground outside the ancient impact crater where we landed is covered with lush jungle vegetation, but our settlement site was chosen carefully, to be sheltered from the wind that our atmospheric scientists told us would be fierce, and as a result our horizon is small, and close – and bare.

Day 13: I don’t believe in bad luck. I don’t. Thirteen is just a number. We have halted the revival program. Our scientists have discovered a slight, unforeseen and completely lethal variation in the radiation from the sun. Those of us already on the surface have received enough radiation to kill us – not immediately, though it is already enough to shorten our lives. We are spending as much time inside the ship as we can, but with so many awake we are all very cramped.

Tests have shown that our plants will not grow. The radiation is toxic to all forms of earth life. We are facing a slow death by starvation.

Day 17: I cannot bear being cooped up inside any longer. If I’m going to die, I’d rather it was out in the open, under the sun – feeling the wind on my face. A small group of us are going hunting. There must surely be something alive in this place. All the tests indicated that there would be.

Day 19: Well, there is life here. Still no sign of anything that you’d call a plant, and when we slogged to the crater’s rim the barren landscape spread in all directions as far as we could see, but there’s an animal: small, fat, running on two legs with stubby upper limbs. Some kind of small dinosaur, maybe. We tried to catch one, but even with the long-range pulse guns we had no luck. They’re just too speedy and maneuverable. Ensign Tolly stuck his leg in a hole and went head over heels – broke it in two places. We’re carrying him back now.

Day 21: I’m going on my own. It’s against orders, but the hierarchy has almost broken down now. Along with the replicators. Something to do with the damned radiation: it’s cooked some of the components, and now we can’t make anything other than a grey, tasteless mush. They tell me it provides adequate nutrition, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’m desperate for something with taste, and a bit of texture in my mouth. What I wouldn’t give for a bacon chop, or a nice crisp apple!

Day 22: I’ve come almost as far as I can go before turning back. If I walk any further I’ll not make it to the ship before my mush-ration runs out. I can’t bring myself to care. There’s something catching the sun to the south – flashing intermittently – for all the world like a signal. Of course it can’t be, but I’m going to take a look anyway.

Day 23: Amazing. I found the things that live here. I’ve found everything! Trees, crops, animals, bird-things – people, of a sort – all down a hole in the ground. They live in immense underground caverns, where the lethal radiation of the star is filtered through the layers of rock.

There are these little green men. Really! Hairy little guys, like skinny green orang-utans. They don’t speak – just kind of sing or hoot at each other – but they seem to communicate through the flashing of mirrors. The signals they exchange across the cavern’s expanse are quite complex, so I’m sure they have some kind of language.

They like me. I’ve been adopted. There are three or four of them that look after me – bringing me food, water, painting me with some kind of tribal colours, massaging my hands – they’re fascinated by the smoothness of my skin. They’ve sent a delegation to the ship. They’re going to invite all of us to live with them.

Day 25. I like my new friends, but it’s great to have human faces around me again. We’ve closed up the ship for now, although in time perhaps the others can be revived and brought to join us, but the rest of us are together, and you wouldn’t believe how happy we all are. The little green guys are pretty happy too. They’re preparing a feast for us. There is a fruit a bit like an apple, and another one rich and juicy like a peach, but it tastes of onions. They make flour from a kind of mushroom that grows on the cavern roof, and then cook it up into patties. And down a level from where I’m sitting they’re preparing the meat.

The green guys are pretty good trappers and hunters, with all sorts of ways of catching those little reptile runners. They smell really good, cooking on spits over the fire. And it turns out they taste just like turkey.

Let’s talk about love, #2

Source: Let’s talk about love, #2

Here’s a taste of real life to add spice to my fiction. I think after forty years I can stand to reveal this much.

Screen Magic if you like your pleasures extra sweet

In the last week I have had the unexpected pleasure of viewing Magic Mike XXL twice. I wasn’t planning to. It just worked out that way. It’s been interesting, since then, to note the pretty mixed reviews the film has got. People seem be split down the middle over whether the film works or not. My take is this: if you loved the rather dour and pessimistic plotline of the original Magic Mike, you’ll hate the new film. If you’re looking for any kind of plausible plot or character development you’ll hate the new film. If you’re looking for a happy ending – well, somebody gets one but it’s certainly not universal.

But if your idea of a good night out is a comfortable (-ish) seat with a bucket of popcorn and Channing Tatum and the Kings of Tampa getting it on right in your face – you’re in for a treat. It’s cheesy, silly, and just a little bit clever, the screen is awash in gym-toned flesh and it made me feel good. No film needs to do more than that. Here’s the review I wrote for the film:

“Pure escapism bathed in Southern sunshine”

Okay, it’s official: this is my feel-good movie of 2015. Nothing’s going to top it. It’s funny, clever, and surprisingly subversive. And as for that boy – you know, the one who can dance – he’s finally got old enough to begin to be interesting. And, dear lord, he can still dance!

Magic Mike XXL is an altogether lighter, frothier confection than its predecessor. There’s not much room here for serious plot structure – it’s pure escapism bathed in Southern sunshine and marinated in a cocktail of pecs, biceps and spray-on tan. All the remaining characters from the original film get a bit more character development, but it’s not overdone; watching this film is far from being an intellectual exercise.

The film is full of parody, and sends itself up as much as the other films it references. Mike’s familiar ineffectual bumbling, here ramped up to an almost irritating degree, masks an incisive mind that is at work manipulating the rest of his crew until at the final moment they are all exactly where he wants them to be. This is where Channing Tatum shines: in a darker character, these machinations would be sinister or chilling, but he only wants what’s best for everybody – and in a film as light and sweet as candy floss everyone can get what they deserve, even if it’s only for five minutes under the spotlights in a rowdy club.

There were a couple of reluctant boyfriends amongst the overwhelmingly female audience at the cinema, and they both belly-laughed within the first few minutes. It’s good. Don’t take my word for it. You deserve to have the same goofy grin on your face – pure pleasure.