Hi everyone,

Hope you guys are all doing well and not suffering too badly from holiday withdrawal symptoms. I am still in South Africa but I have started work myself this week -- not easy with a blue sky, beautiful mountains and lush vineyards outside my window.

Close to my home in Stellenbosch

As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, this had been a special Christmas for me. It was the first time in seven years that I had both my brothers in the same room when we opened our Christmas presents. It was also the first time my adorable six year old nephew, Carl, visited South Africa. When my brother and sister-in-law first told me they were thinking about braving the marathon flight from the United States to Cape Town I was delighted, but dubious. After all, nineteen hours in coach with a six year old is enough to make gladiators weep. But my family is made of stern stuff! They arrived -- if not exactly sprightly -- emphatically ready for adventure.

This being Africa, Carl wanted to see animals. The big five! Not easy to arrange as most of the game reserves are in the north of the country, but we managed to do something pretty cool for the little guy, anyway. Close to Stellenbosch is the Cheetah Outreach Program, which is helping to ensure the survival of free-ranging cheetahs. Sadly, cheetahs are endangered. They are not only the target of poachers but because they do not roam in prides like lions do, they are at a natural disadvantage in the wild.

A female cheetah is like Greta Garbo - she vants to be alone. She raises her cubs on her own, without the help of a male protector. (Male cheetahs are party animals and stay with their male siblings for the duration of their lives.) Because of its magnificent speed, a cheetah is usually able to outrun its prey but then often cannot defend its catch against the much bigger lions who wait around for it to do the work before moving in and taking the kill for themselves. Some lionesses also have the horrible habit of waiting until the cheetah female starts to hunt, before deliberately searching for the unattended cubs and biting them to death. Nature at its least pretty.

When we arrived at the Outreach Program we were required to disinfect our hands and the soles of our shoes. (Inbreeding has given the animals vulnerable immune systems.) We then walked around watching cheetahs do cheetah things - yawning, strutting, butting heads, looking beautiful and aloof - but surprisingly little running despite there being ample space for them to roam. I was surprised to learn from the wardens that cheetahs don't really like to run. If I were the fastest land animal on earth, I think I would have found it tough to keep myself from constantly showing off, but apparently cheetahs will only reluctantly break into a sprint.

The first part of our visit took place behind the safety of a chainlink fence, but then we were taken inside an enclosure with one of the animals. This is a picture of my brother and Carl making friends with Joseph. Isn't he gorgeous? He is seven years old and has such presence. This is a guy who knows he is the most fabulous thing around.

Carl with Cheetah

The gentleman holding Joseph's head is his handler and it is his task to keep Joseph happy and, I would hope, well-fed. Most cheetahs will not take kindly to being petted and do not wish to interact with their human admirers. However, every now and then you will find a cheetah who gets along well with humans and who adores being stroked. Joseph is one of them but he always has the option of getting up and leaving if he feels bored. He will also never be forced to submit to being handled if he doesn't feel like it. Most of the time, it seems, he does feel like it. When you stroke him, his purr sounds like distant thunder. Before we were allowed to approach him, we were given instructions on how to touch. Strong, firm movements are required as Joseph finds hesitant strokes irritating (and may mistake them for flies) and could just swat at you in annoyance if you don't get on with it.

Carl had a fantastic time and the rest of his visit was equally successful. The only disappointment was that we were not able to take him to the top of Table Mountain. This was high on his wish list and we had scheduled the visit for the day before he was due to fly back to the States. Sadly, on the day itself, we woke up to find Table Mountain shrouded in cascading clouds and the cable car lift closed. We had to explain to Carl that the devil and his opponent, the scowling Dutch sea captain, Van Hunk, had once again lit their pipes and were trying to outsmoke each other in a weird macho contest that has been going on for three hundred years. And even though we may not have made it to the top, we did spend time on the Eastern slopes of the mountain at Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens.

Kirstenbosch

Carl in Kirstenbosch

Home to only indigenous South African plants, Kirstenbosch is arguably the oldest botanical garden in the world. To my mind, it is the most beautiful place on earth. When I die, this is where I would like to have my ashes scattered.

And on this rather pensive note, let me hasten to wish you all a wonderful 2010! May the next decade bring a world that is peaceful, creative and tolerant. And let's have some serious fun while we're about it!

I read with interest that The Board of Mystery Writers of America voted unanimously last week to remove Harlequin and all of its imprints from their list of Approved Publishers. MWA states that it did not "take this action lightly." The decision was made because "Harlequin violates MWA's rules regarding the relationship between a traditional publisher and its for-pay services." This means Harlequin authors will no longer be considered for The Edgars Award and new writers signing with Harlequin will not be able to use this as proof that they are published authors, which is a prerequisite for acquiring Active Member Status.

The row has been brewing for a while. At the heart of the matter lies Harlequin's policy of directing prospective authors whose manuscripts they had rejected, to resubmit those manuscripts to Harlequin's self-publishing imprint, DellArte (formerly known as Harlequin Horizons.) DellArte charges writers a fee to read their manuscripts in preparation for self-publication. In a letter to MWA, Harlequin's Publisher and CEO, Donna Hayes, confirmed that this is Harlequin's standard practice and that they make rejected writers aware that Harlequin editors are monitoring DellArte titles for possible acquisition. To put it very bluntly: pay us (or at least our imprint) and we may consider your manuscript afresh.

Pay-for editorial services abound. My previous editor at Penguin is now a freelance editor and for a fee, will help you whip your manuscript into shape. There is nothing wrong with this: she is a professional with a track record of editing successful authors. She will not make you any false promises that your manuscript will get published, but she will offer you the opportunity to have your work reviewed by someone with experience in the field and you will receive from her a serious commitment to help you raise the standard of your work.

What Harlequin is doing, is different. I can not comment on the standard of editing that writers receive at DellArte as I have no knowledge of this. But I am concerned that the carrot that is dangled in front of people who are desperate to see their work in print, may be fake. Writers who have not made the cut at Harlequin, flock to DellArte not because of the editing service, but because they think they will be given a second chance. This second chance is not guaranteed, of course, and the author may part with a substantial sum of money and still not have the manuscript taken on inhouse.

The fact of the matter is that we writers are easy targets. We all yearn to be published. I remember well that incredible hunger that gnawed at me as I sent out The Midnight Side to twenty-seven agents over a two year period who all turned it down on the spot. Once I managed to find an agent, my ego received yet another round of battering from editors who sent me charmless rejection letters in which they bothered not at all to pull their punches. One memorable response stated: "Oh, please. This is all too woo woo confusing for me." Another editor reprimanded my agent for submitting a novel, which "although startling in its conception, is nevertheless far from ready for publication." By that point I would have been willing to take out another mortgage on my house if it would have helped me get my novel accepted.

Of course, if you're simply looking for feedback of your work without any strings attached, and if you're willing to write a cheque for this kind of service, that's fine. The need for feedback is a very basic one for unpublished writers. Published writers want feedback too, but we have editors who slap us around the head and tell us exactly what's wrong with our prose. And once the book is on the shelf, we receive reviews - sometimes brutal, sometimes nice. Published writers have it covered. Unpublished writers, on the other hand, are constantly looking for the attention of a sympathetic but knowledgeable reader. And this is tough to find because it is a big commitment to read someone's work and to give a considered opinion.

I receive on average around twenty-five such requests a week. I am contacted through social networking sites, through my discussion board and increasingly by letters sent either to my agent or my publisher. I feel dreadful every single time I don't respond but it is now my policy not to respond to any such request -- regardless. Whether it is a poem or a novel - it takes time and creative energy to formulate a response. It would be easy to shoot off a few stock platitudes to someone who asks for my feedback but I have too much respect for anyone who writes and I am far too aware of the emotional investment that goes into writing, to do so. A few years ago I listened to Sandra Brown at The Edgars Awards saying that she no longer reads any-one - published or unpublished. I remember how shocked I was, and how disapproving. How on earth can you call yourself a writer and not read? These days I am not quite as judgmental. After writing eight to nine hours every day, I am drained. All I feel like doing is kicking a bag or punching my long-suffering kickboxing instructor, which is why most evenings you'll find me in the dojo doing just that.

My advice to unpublished authors who are searching for feedback is to do what I did and to build a circle of first readers --one precious friend at a time. Don't just rely on friends who are bound to be uncritically supportive - that is not going to help you. Find friends who are avid readers and who are able to articulate both likes and dislikes. Beware of toxic readers. Sometimes friends who may be wonderful friends in all other circumstances - looking after your dog when you're going out of town, making you chicken soup when you're feeling poorly, sending you funny e-cards when you have a crisis in your love life - will devastate you with their unrelenting criticism of your work. Often these people harbour a deep seated - even unconscious -- envy of your ability to express yourself creatively. However, it is also true that you need to build up a tolerance to unkind comments. Once you get published and those reviews start coming in, you will need the hide of rhinoceros, trust me.

And finally, when you ask someone to read your work, don't ask for a blanket opinion. Send your reader questions: Which character was most convincing? Why? Any characters that you found irritating? Was there a particular chapter where the narrative tension slackened and you were tempted to leave the story and go bake a cake instead? Did the ending move you? Leave you stuck in neutral? Disappointed? Did you lose the plot at any point? Were any of the transitions between chapters fuzzy?

Right, on to other things! Hope you guys are enjoying the holiday season and are making merry. I am getting ready to lift anchors in a few short days. As always I will be spending Christmas in South Africa and this year is going to be memorable. My youngest brother lives in the States and he, my American sister-in-law and my adorable six year old nephew, Carl, will be joining us. (They will be flying for nineteen hours - yikes!) This will be Carl's first visit to South Africa. We plan on doing all the touristy things such as taking a cable ride to the top of Table Mountain and attending an ostrich race. We may even introduce this little Yank to the glory that is rugby. I have another brother who lives in South Africa and the two brothers have not seen each other in seven years. My mother is quite overwhelmed to think she will be waking up to find all three her children under the same Christmas tree. Aah...

Thanks everyone! Wishing you all happy holidays. May 2010 be the best year yet!

Just a quick report back on my talk last night at the Richmond Literature Festival. Thanks to all of you who sent me messages of support and good wishes ahead of time. They cheered me considerably!

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I was nervous about this one. The Richmond Literature Festival draws some big names and I was wondering how I was going to entice people to come to my event when authors of the calibre of AS Byatt and Fay Weldon are also on the programme. Not to mention Martin Amis who will be wowing an audience at his event tomorrow. Amis made headlines here in London only recently after criticising British readers for spending their credit crunch pounds on Jordan's book instead of supporting authors more worthy. Jordan, for those of you on the other side of the Atlantic, is a British celebrity known for her impressive -- but fake -- assets (she even named the dynamic duo). How on earth, I thought, was I going to get people to come to my gig if Amis beckons only a day later?

On top of this, the weather turned apocalyptic. We're talking floods. 70mph winds. Torrential rain. I believe an ark was seen floating on the Thames. I fully expected to face a room filled with empty chairs. I even worried my loyal band of friends who always turn up for these events may balk at braving the elements.

But it was a lovely evening! People came and one wonderful MySpace friend even drove for seven hours through horrendous traffic and billowing winds to support me. Good karma is his in the next life. The organisers of the event contacted me a few days ago asking if I would please bring props to reinforce the "cooky, crazy, creepy tenor of the night's proceedings." (Their words.) I have a wonderful Bride of Frankenstein Halloween outfit and was getting all excited about this idea, but sadly, my husband vetoed it. In the end, though, props were unnecessary. Located in Twickenham, the Octagon Room at the Orleans House Gallery, is set in preserved natural woodland and driving from the entrance to the house itself is quite spooky – all dark, looming trees and wet leaves on the mossy ground. The room itself is baroque and was built in 1721. It is gorgeous and was the perfect venue for an evening of fantasy, supernatural and gothic. The vibe was good and the audience friendly although I did have one gentleman in the front row who asked deeply erudite questions and who told me afterwards that this was his first literary event and he only came because his wife made him :happy

I've attached two pictures for you – not great pictures, in fact rather terrible – they were taken by my husband on his iphone. I don't know if it is the photographer or the phone that is at fault but I hope it will at least give you an idea of how very pretty the room itself is.

Thanks again for your good wishes. Stay warm and dry!

Some of you have sent me messages asking about my status line in which I congratulate my friend Carlos on finishing the Jungle Marathon. For those of you unfamiliar with this torture fest, the Jungle Marathon takes place over five days and covers 200 km of hostile terrain in the Amazon. We're talking jaguars! Snakes as thick as a man's thigh! Piranhas! Apart from jungle trails, the competitors also have to wade through swamps, climb steep elevations and do river crossings. The second to last stage have them running 87 km for two days non-stop. Carlos is my kickboxing trainer and a former European champion. Believe me, he is no sissy and I once saw him fight with two broken ribs. But this was something else altogether. He was one of 55 out of 120 competitors who managed to finish the entire 200km, but he is shattered. His feet look like something out of a George Romero movie. He wasn't just doing all of this for the T-shirt, though, he was also running for charity. Sponsorship money will go towards helping AIDS orphans in Kenya. www.justgiving.com/jungle-marathon/

From bloody toes to another blood sport. The Frankfurt Book Fair took place last week. FBF is Europe's biggest book fair and every autumn publishers and agents from all over the world gather to sell and buy foreign rights to books. Editors meet with agents over Bratwurst and kegs of beer and engage other editors in bitter battle to try and secure the best titles for their respective houses.

By all accounts the 2009 FBF was a rather subdued occasion with both sales and attendance down on previous years. American publishers sent fewer editors across the ocean and there were fewer mega book sales. The hottest fiction title of the Fair was The Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. Viking US reports that they've sold well over seven figures in worldwide rights sales so far. Harkness's book is her debut novel and in it she describes a world in which four species - vampires, witches, demons and humans -- live side-by-side. The heroine falls in love with a vampire although inter-species sex is prohibited. Not exactly a novel premise, maybe, but by all accounts the writing is excellent. On the non-fiction front, the book of the Fair was The Mandela Diaries, sold by my own agent, Jonny Geller.

It has been a very tough year for scribes in general. Whereas Dan Brown still sells up a storm, for the rest of us, the picture is far from rosy. I belong to the UK Society of Authors, which recently commissioned a survey and found that authors' advances have been cut by as much as 70%. The majority of authors expressed fears that their contracts will simply not be renewed.

But even those with contracts are not safe. It used to be that once a publisher has signed a contract with an author, the writer was assured that he will be paid the full advance and that his book will go into print. Yes, there is something called an "acceptance" clause, which means that if the publisher deems the manuscript to be of too poor a quality to publish, that it has the right of refusal. But the only author I know of who fell foul of this clause is Joan Collins. You may remember the case? It happened in 1996 when Ms. Collins took Random House to court after they claimed her manuscript was "unreadable." During the trial Random House tried to prove its point by reading out loud sections of Ms. Collins's manuscript:

"The eye signals between Paul and Venetia precluded any necessity for small talk. They each knew what they wanted. She saw him quiver as she gave him a languorous look from beneath her heavy-lidded innocent eyes as she danced lasciviously close to him at the club and they made a date to meet."

This could not have been very pleasant for the plaintiff, but she did win her case. Random House had to pay her 1 million dollars. For that kind of money, I suppose putting up with a little public ridicule might seem like an excellent deal.

The only other clause a publisher can use to revoke a contract, is the one which states that an author has to make her deadline. In practice, an agent can usually manage to get his author another 3 to 6 months wiggle room if necessary. It does irritate your publisher somewhat as promotion and editing schedules get messed up, but publishers realise that writing a novel is not like baking a cake and the creative process is not always on tap. But now, the waters are bloody. Publishers are using this clause to get rid of authors in whom they no longer have faith and agents have sent out letters to their clients urging them to meet their deadlines. There have been reports of authors getting axed even after they've already worked for more than two years on a manuscript.

Anyway, enough of the gloom! In this economy everyone is suffering so why should writers insist on being pampered. However, industry insiders are predicting a revolution - not in the sense that authors will storm publishing houses and drag editors to the tumbril - but in the sense that book publishing may evolve into a hybrid form. Check out this link in which Anthony Zuiker's new "digi-book" is being discussed. The idea is that readers will buy a book and then combine the reading experience with video material and interactive online surfing.

Anthony Zuiker's Digi-Novel

How do you guys feel about this? Would you like to have this kind of multi-media experience when you read? Or is this a bridge too far?

And then finally: a reminder that yours truly will be talking about suspense, fantasy and gothic in the 21st century at the Richmond Literature Festival on the evening of 13 November. Those of you who don't have to take a plane to get here-- it will be great to see you in the audience. I am nervous! As I mentioned before, some of the other authors participating in the Festival are pretty amazing writers -- AS Byatt, Martin Amis, Tibor Fischer. I've been trying to think of innovative ways to tempt people to attend my presentation instead but all I can think of is to offer them free alcohol. I have no shame and I can attest to the success of this strategy. Many years ago, on an icy winter's evening, I took part in a book reading event at Borders Bookstore in Oxford Street. There was a massive poster outside mentioning that free South African wine was on offer. It was a gratifying sight: every seat was filled. Of course, it took me a while to realise why the entire back row was asleep. These poor people were homeless and had obviously decided the offer of booze and warmth made the boredom worthwhile.

If you're interested in attending, here is a link to my events page: www.natashamostert.com/events/

Hope to see you there and to raise a glass together!