Happy Christmas and all that....

A little note to wish all you lovely boggers out there a very Merry Christmas, as well as a happy and prosperous New Year. I hope to blog a little more regularly again soon. I promise to try.

I will be making no New Year resolutions because I don't believe in them. I do have a few wishes for the New Year, though.

1. For COD Modern Warfare 2 to be changed overnight so that the guns make tinkly music sounds instead of blast and the bombs explode to the sound of Karma Charmeleon.

2. For my husband's sideburns to grow even more bushy and look even more like baby hedgehogs.

3. For more people to say things like this about my books. (Thank you Debi. I know it's all heartfelt but it means a LOT to me that you took the time to say it.)

That's about it really. See you in 2010. (How are we supposed to say this date. Twenty ten - which sounds a bit like cricket - or two thousand and ten? Neither seems to trip off the tongue.)

Time to wrap things up now. In more ways than one.

Nicola x

Two novels...

I'm in the middle of an interesting writing experiment, which is one of the reasons I haven't blogged for so long. I've been working on a new novel. In fact, I've been working on two new novels. One of them is recognisable territory for me. A certain city, a particular lifestyle. Maybe even a couple of familiar characters. The second one is a bit of a departure. I'm enjoying departing. It's always fun to try new things.

The newest thing of all is that I am writing them both at the same time. Having a go at each in turn depending on how I'm feeling at the time. I've planned them both, one in more detail than the other but, then, that's the departure and it's the kind of book that needs more structure. I've started writing both too. I'm expecting both to round off somewhere near the one hundred thousand word mark. To top it all, I've just started a new and intense job that is extremely worthwhile and, at the same time, very challenging. This is emotionally rewarding work and I am glad I'm doing it but, at the same time, it has wiped me out this last week and I was quite unwell by Friday.

So, that's the experiment. Can I in and out of two extremely different novels without either of them suffering at the same time holding down a real job in the real world? As far as the writing goes, so far, so good, but it's such early days that I'm not submerged in either yet, and not taken over by the characters and their stories. Maybe it will take longer for that to happen, a bit like the way a child growing up bilingual takes longer to learn to talk in either language. The thing about a child growing up bilingual, though, is that she will have a better command of language in principle in the end, when she learns to talk, and find learning new tongues much easier than the average person.

I watched with interest this November's National Novel Writing Month and nearly joined in but wisely changed my mind at the last moment. I did think it might be motivating to have something going on that tracks my progress, though, so I've decided to blog my word counts.

Let's call my new novels Familiar Fred and Departure Dan, for the sake of this exercise. Here are the scores on the doors.

Familiar Fred 7235
Departure Dan 2419

A domain mes amies. Or perhaps a few days after... If I ever have the energy to blog again, that is.

The Hockley Hustle

Am appearing in the Left Lion spoken word event again, this time at the Hockley Hustle. This one's not free, but the tickets you buy gives you an armband for access to all the events, and it's for charity.

Murder, Madness and Fantasy....  

Celebrating the last day of summer, LeftLion presents their darkest spoken word event yet. From 4pm – 8pm they’ll take you to the oddities of the Victorian freak show, down the cold clean corridors of the mental asylum, across time, space and galaxies and then back for one final fantasy you’ll never forget...    




Final Fantasy
7.40 +: Al Needham (Todger Talk)


Speculative Fictions
6.50 – 7.30: Damien Walter (Guardian blogger) in conversation with Mark Charan Newton (Nights of Villjamur)
6.20 – 6.45: James Johnson (erth chronicles)


Madness and Murder
5.50 – 6.10: Nicola Monaghan (The Killing Jar, Starfishing)
5.10 – 5.50 Ann Featherstone (Walking in Pimlico) in conversation with Rod Maddocks (No Way to Say Goodbye)


Myth, Magic and Mayhem
4.40 – 5.00 Aly Stoneman and Milk
4.20 – 4.40 King Henry (England, my England)**
4.00 – 4.20 Joss Ink – (Leading a Horse to Water)
 


**Extreme content warning, imagine P G Wodehouse with turrets... 

The Circus versus The Fair.

'It's not fair!' I used to moan at my mum when I was a little girl, in that annoying, whiny voice kids use when they want something, the kind of voice that makes you want to give them anything they say if they'll just stop. 'It's not fair till October,' my mum used to say. That used to be true when I was little. And when October came and you went to the fair, made yersen sick with too much candy floss and mushy peas (an appetising mix) and then the waltzers, your head snapping back as they went too fast and you screamed to make them go faster. You came away wearing your Kiss me Quick hat feeling nauseous, worn out and completely satisified with your lot.

These days, though, I don't know. Me and the dear husband have a bit of a problem with the fair in October, the Goose Fair. I mean, it looks kinda pretty, from the road at night with all the lights on, and there are a few rides that look kinda impressive. I noticed this time round some contraption of flying swings that went way higher than any similar fairground attraction I've ever seen, as well as a log flume and a smallish rollercoaster, all really a mile away from the big wheel and Wall of Death that were the highlights of my teenage fairs.

The problem for me starts when you walk down Gregory Boulevard or any of the surrounding streets. There's a lack of atmosphere. There's a lack of, well, a lack of much sign that you're approaching the fair. The side shows and fortune tellers used to run all the way down the boulevard, and lots of the other surrounding streets, but they just don't anymore. Maybe these kinds of attraction just don't get the punters in anymore, but it doesn't feel like Goose Fair with so few of them.

It doesn't get better as you walk inside. For me, these days, there's just something missing from Goose Fair. A vital thing, like a heart or a soul. It feels dead inside, and smaller than it used to. That could be the difference in my relative size but I don't think it is. I've been there as a teenager and as an adult. I believe it genuinely is smaller than it used to be. And don't get me started on the prices, or the rip off stalls where you are guaranteed a prize, but it never turns out to be one of the massive, great stuffed Disney cuddlies on display... There's inflation, and then there's taking the piss.

This year, we went to the circus instead. That is, the Circus Extravaganza organised by Left Lion. This event was free. Yeah, you heard right. Free. It didn't cost a thing. To be honest, I couldn't really go to Goose Fair instead because I was signed up to read at the spoken word. But that's not the point.

I was really glad we went to the circus instead of Goose Fair. We hung around for the entire spoken word event. It was by far the best event of its type I've been involved in. I read with a lovely young lady, and a fabulous writer, Megan Taylor, and we had conferred beforehand so that we chose pieces with a certain synergy. I shared a new story, one that no one had read or workshopped. It was a dark story about childhood, and some of the daft things adults tell kids. It seemed to go down well. After this there was some fabulous poetry, including the beautiful Aly Stoneman, accompanied on guitar by her friend Milk. After this Al Needham interviewed Rebecca Dakin, author of The Girlfriend Experience. Somehow I knew Nottingham's Mr Sex would find the right questions to ask, and he didn't let us down. Rebecca came across as bubbly and very genuine, and we bought the book.

The event climaxed (a good word under the circumstances) with a reading by Al of extracts from his award winning blog Todger Talk. It were mint, as our Al would've said. It was all bloody funny, but the highlights for me were this little peach, and then this one, which was his closing shot, if you'll pardon my exact choice of words, under the circumstances. Brilliant. I can't wait for Al's book, which he bloody well better write or I'll send some of me mates from Broxta after him.

We left all this behind and went out looking for a good band. We were spoiled for choice, with stuff going on at all the pubs in the area. We were also lucky enough to catch Shop's dead celebrity reinactment of the Thriller Video. It's not every day you get to see Michael Jackson, Freddy Mercury, Kurt Cobain, Audrey Hepburn, Heath Ledger and Marilyn Monroe, amongst others, dancing together on the streets of Nottingham. You definitely wouldn't get it at the fair. It was class. (And they knew all the moves.)

Perhaps the best thing about the entire evening was the way it felt around Canning Circus. There was a real sense that there was something special going on. A proper atmosphere. You wouldn't get that at Goose Fair either. 

Nice one Left Lion crew. You did real good.

The funniest thing I have EVER seen on TV

I'm sure it will be no surprise to readers of this blog that I tuned in to Derren Brown tonight. I'm left, well, laughing all the way to my keyboard. Derren's deadpan 'Oh, one out.' The face of the man whose money's on the table, clearly utterly convinced that the ball's going to somehow jump over the divide in the roulette wheel yet, because Derren Brown wouldn't mess up on this scale. The production assistant, standing outside the trailer with a giant cheque at the ready for a hundred and eighty grand and the way he walks up, gingerly. 'Don't worry mate, we'll get your five grand back.' The silence as the series peters out could almost define dramatic anticlimax. It brought to mind the ending of The Blair Witch Project.

Of course they'll get his five grand back because they ain't gambled it away in the first place. Derren Brown ain't been nowhere near no casino tonight, not unless it was after the show in his own time. I know Casinos and I'm telling yous; that was a Channel Four studio 'somewhere in Europe', or a Casino they'd borrowed and closed for the evening.

For starters, it was too quiet and empty. There was no sound of other gamblers, of other roulette wheels, or cards being shoed or shuffled. Sure, it could have been a small casino but the problem with that is there was no evidence whatsoever, either visual or audio, of slot machines. They ain't not one casino in the world that don't got slot machines, girlfriend, and they make noise and flash lights all the time to try to hypnotise you and get your money (not unlike Derren Brown). There were no croupiers rushing past, or people serving drinks, and none of the small trolleys you get given as a punter to put your drinks on. You don't stand at a table with holding your wine glass while you play. You don't change your chips when you're putting them all on the same number. You don't walk around holding your sleeves up to stuff so the hidden camera can catch it. Well, not unless you fancy getting taken away and being beaten up in the basement.

Then there's the size of the bet. Five grand on a single number? Casinos risk manage their exposure. You don't just walk over to a table and put that much cash on the nose of a 35 to 1 payout without the pit boss having a look see if he's happy. At least, you don't unless you're in Aspinall's or one of the other super exclusive casinos on Curzon Street. And the thing about those Casinos is that A. you have to be a multi-millionaire to join (although mebbe our Derren's been playing the lottery) and B. you have to get a personal invitation by someone who's already a member. And like even if Derren did all that, they're gonna let him join, four weeks after the TV schedule announces he's going to bring the place down? Yeah, right, whatever.

It almost goes without saying at this stage that Derren's explanation of how he did it was complete rubbish. Brown claimed tonight to be able to assess two different speeds going in opposite directions by tapping his feet to their different rhythms. Hello? Anyone here ever tried to rub their stomach and pat their head at the same time? Well this would be harder, you'd have to do it faster, then apply a load of complicated calculations and take into account rebounds and bounces on the wheel. And all that in the few seconds you've got between the croupier spinning the wheel and you putting your chips down. Derren's clever and quick. He ain't a computer. Add to this the fact that there's a camera in Derren's sleeve, he is tapping *both* of his feet but at slightly different rhythms and yet we don't see its picture (or our Derren for that matter) shake any more than it was doing before. He would also have looked mighty strange while he carried out this little trick. If you don't believe me stand up and try tapping both your feet. Hmmm...

So, if what I say is true and it's all a big set up, why on earth not just go all the way and get the number exactly right?

Well one big reason springs to mind right away. If he did that, he'd have had to give Ben that blooming great cheque. There's a second thing too. By getting the figure one out, he makes the trick more believable. People think he came so close to pulling it off, and assume that if he was cheating he'd have got it exactly right so that he must be telling the truth. Paul Daniel's even suggested Derren should get one of the lottery balls wrong, for this exact reason.

But it was well done and it was funny, I'll give him that. I suspect there will be some kind of link between The Events and Derren's next series, where he'll be scam busting. Starting with his own scams mebbe? Just a hunch.

Circus Tricks.

Am at the circus tomorrow. No elephants that I know of, just Left Lions. If you can make it over this way, should be a peng night. And it's free.

My event kicks off at the Hand on Heart at ten to five and other writers are reading there from four. I'll be reading new stuff and everything, as well as some old fave passages from that Killing Jar book what I wrote. There's comedy, music, all sorts all at pubs with easy reach of each other around the Canning Circus area, so you don't even have to walk very far.

Hope to see yer there.

While we're talking Left Lion, there's a lovely new Write Lion podcast too, featuring yours truly and a whole host of other Nottingham folk what like their pens. Check it out.

The allure of possibility versus the science of probability.

What with all this Derren Brown stuff and that, I've been thinking a lot recently about the Lottery, about casinos, about the games of chance we play with our money and why we do it.

The Lottery is probably the most extreme example. The chances of winning the jackpot are remote and, in fact, a single line is not terribly likely to win any prize. 'It could be you' approximately one out of fourteen million times. An averagely healthy middle aged man has a higher chance of dying in the hour before the draw takes place than he does of winning the jackpot. Flush a pound coin down the loo and you have more chance of seeing it again than winning the lottery had you bought a ticket with it. You are almost as likely to find a winning lottery ticket on the floor as you are to win with one you've bought. Etc etc. So why do people play this game at all? And don't make me laugh and tell me it's for the 'good causes'.

I decided to take this a stage further and do a few sums.

Let's take what I'd say was a fairly average lottery scenario.  I personally rarely put my hard earned cash into the hands of Camelot, but I know plenty of people who spend much more than the example that follows.

So, let's say Joe Blow plays Lotto twice weekly (after all, what if you didn't put your numbers on and they came up?) and buys 5 lines. He also puts 5 lines on Euromillions, and buys a couple of £2 scratchcards a week. So we're not talking an addict by any stretch, but just someone who thinks 'It bleddy well won't be me if I don't get a ticket.'

If you total that up, we've got £21.50 a week. That doesn't sound too bad, does it? It's not exactly breaking the bank...

Well, unless you think about the other stuff you could do with that cash. Total it up over the course of a year and it comes to £1118, which is actually quite a lot of money.

How much is Joe Blow likely to win?

Well, the chances per line of winning the Jackpot are 14 million to one, and five numbers plus the bonus one in about two million. Even getting four numbers is a one in over a thousand shot. The chance of winning a tenner is 1 in 57. On that basis, with his tenner a week, our Joe can expect (theoretically) to hit his three numbers and win a tenner 9.12 times a year, and his four numbers once every two years - coming to a grand total of about £123/year. He can expect to win the jackpot or any of the big prizes, well, quite a bit less than once in his entire life. He's spending £520 each year, so that means he's losing about 76% of the money he puts down. Sure, we can add the bigger prizes to the mix but they make very little difference, being so unlikely. So I reckon we can safely say Joe's going to lose about 75% of the money he spends on the lottery, over time. If this was a casino game, we'd say the house edge was 75%.

There would be slightly different numbers for Euromillions and for scratchcards, of course, but it's after one in the morning now and I ain't looking them up and working them out. I suspect the scratchcard figures will be significantly better, and the Euromillions ones, worse. Just a guess...

When you think about it, there are so many better ways to spend that £21.50 a week. You could keep a teenage girl
or store your car in a 'Insulated, Secure, Dehumidified controlled environment', have your own, year round pitch at a caravan site in Newquay. You could give it all to good causes, instead of the twenty odd percent passed over by Camelot.

You could even invest it. Sure, you don't get the heart stopping flurry of watching the draw with the ticket in your hand. However, putting it in a savings account, for example, would get you about 3% pa on your money, making you an extra approximately £16.60 a year (based on putting the money in every week and not making any withdrawals) and, of course, you get to keep the £1118 you've saved as well. And you could invest in stocks, shares or property and get a better return. Well, not based on recent form, of course. (Investments can go up as well as down, none of the information here constitutes investment advice just a few facts and figures yadda yadda...)

You would even be better off heading down the casino with this money. There are lots of casino games, if you know the correct strategy for playing them, with relatively low house edge. For example, if you play perfect strategy Blackjack (something you can learn and that is well documented on the interweb) over time, you should lose about 0.5% of your money. So you get to keep 99.5%. There are other slot and Casino games where the house edge is less than 5%. Considerably better than the lottery, when you look at that way. (Remember, equivalent to a house edge of about 75%!)

So, in short, you'd be better off saving up that £21.50 and taking the whole lot (plus your £16.60 interest) down the casino one night every year, and having a good ole time on the Blackjack table.

But, of course, it *could* be you. And we all know why people play, really. Life changing amounts of money is why. Like the Euromillions last week with a jackpot of £83 000 000. Hell, despite knowing everything I've just typed, I bought a couple of tickets. The prize money was too much to ignore, even though I knew just how unlikely it was that it would ever be mine.

And that's the weird thing about the lottery. Because, despite being rather reticent to give Camelot my hard earned cash over the years, I find myself in profit so far. I haven't entered more than about thirty times since that first draw in 1994 when I had my first lottery win.

Let me take you back in time.... imagine swiggly lines making the screen go all misty... and then you see me. it was November and the nights were closing in. There I was, slim and young and hopeful, just 23 and so soon out of a mathematics degree that I should have known better, sat on the sofa at my mum's house with my first ever lottery ticket (one line) in my hot little hands.

The first number came out. It was 30. It was on my ticket. The second number came out. It was on my ticket. The third number came out. It was on my ticket.... My heart was beginning to beat rather fast at this point.

By the time the draw had finished I'd found out I was one in a million.

Well, one of 1,073,695 people who'd won a tenner. Fancy that, and the first three numbers as well. I realised that no other lottery draw would ever match the excitement of that first one, well, unless of course the second half of the draw lived up to the promise of the first, and I so I've never watched a live draw since. Well, not until that evil bad man Derren Brown did his naughty prediction show.

Still, I did go on to have a lucky run. Over the course of the next several months, I only entered a (lucky) seven times. I lost three times and won a tenner three times. Then, as part of a family syndicate, I won about £50. I decided to quit while I was ahead.

I've bought only a few tickets a year since and won another tenner, and fifty something on the Euromillions, so I reckon I'm probably still slightly in profit. I also know two people who have won life changing amounts of cash. But then, I know a lot of people.

None of that changes a thing. I am an outlier and still insist, despite my experience, that there are much better ways to play with your hard earned cash.

But, of course, "It could be you."

Good luck with that one.