Happy Easter

Happy Easter Everyone! Isn’t it ridiculously early this year and hasn’t March galloped by like a gazelle on speed? I am writing this week’s blog on Wednesday because it’s my only free time before Sunday. By the time you read this on Easter Sunday, I will be either on my way to the Craft Fair at Stonham Barns or already be there. It’s a two-day event so I won’t have time for blog writing on Saturday, and as for Thursday and Friday well … but I’m jumping ahead of myself.

Last time we spoke I was about to do the Gt Yarmouth Sci-Fi Weekender on Friday and Saturday, followed by the Easter Craft Fair at Leiston on Sunday. So, how did it go? I’ve never really been to Gt Yarmouth. Well, tell a lie, I think I must have been when I was a child and have vague memories of going there with a boyfriend in my teens. The childhood visit would have been with my parents in their car, so I would have no concept of the route or how long it took. The day trip with my boyfriend I’m sure we went by train. I packed everything ready on Thursday. I was a little bit nervous because it was an event none of us had done before and because of my uncertainty about the route.

Early Friday morning, I loaded the car and set the destination postcode into Google Maps on my phone. At that hour in the morning, it told me it would be approximately a 1 hour and 20-minute journey. Okay, not too bad. I set off. The first half of the journey was the same as if I was going to Norwich, so it was familiar, then the road bypassed the city and branched off towards the coast. There were a couple of hairy moments on multiple roundabouts, but Google Maps Lady saw me true and soon we were driving over the fenlands. It was a gloriously sunny day but there was a piercing wind blasting over the fens. If anyone has been to Norfolk or seen pictures of it, it’s a landscape without contours, or, as Oscar Wilde famously described it – “Very flat”.

I drove and drove, and then drove some more. It began to feel like I’d never reach my destination, and then suddenly Google Maps lady ordered me to turn left into a holiday park.  To be honest, she did leave it to the last minute, and I pissed off a white van man behind me with my desperately late signalling and abrupt turning. As I entered the car park, I saw a fellow author I knew who indicated to a row of spaces that I should park there. I parked there. Unloaded my boxes onto my little trolley and followed him into a dimly lit hall with rows of seating facing an empty stage.

We had been warned about the rather lackadaisical attitude the organisers of the event had towards trifling things like traders and where the heck we were supposed to be setting up. We looked in vain for anyone in charge to give us instructions. There was no one around. A trader selling lots of plushies, and other such merchandise had nabbed a corner site and was already set up. They informed us there had been a mega party the night before, so everyone was hungover or still in bed or both.

By now, the rest of our party had arrived, so we stood around for a few minutes shrugging and pulling faces at one another. It was well past nine and the event opened at ten, so decisions had to be made. We had paid for two pitches and at £172 per pitch, they weren’t cheap. The normal expectation is that a pitch is a table measuring 6ft by 2ft. We looked at the tables available. They were small pub tables of just over 3ft each. Hmm. Surely, they weren’t charging £172 for such a small table. Two of us were sharing to keep costs down. Sharing a 6ft table is doable, sharing a 3ft one is impossible.

We took matters into our own hands.

Deciding to set up by the door, we carried three tables over. There was just enough room to put three of them in a line without impeding entry or foot flow. We measured the length of the tables — at 10ft 6 inches they were still falling short of usual but sometimes you must work with what you are given — so we went ahead and started setting out our wares. Someone in a high-vis jacket with a lanyard, bloodshot eyes, and clutching a large coffee wandered in and looked at us.

“Are you okay?” they asked. “Is this where you’re supposed to be and is that the right number of tables you’re supposed to have?”

The other two authors looked sheepish. I looked the official straight in the eye. “Yes, we’ve paid for two 6ft pitches so here is the only place we can fit in together.”

They shrugged. “Okay.” They wandered away never to be seen again.

So, how was it?

Completely bonkers. People had travelled from all over the country to attend the four-day event which commenced with a meet and greet reception on Thursday, followed by a mega party from which everyone was struggling to recover.  I spoke to a couple who’d come all the way from the Isle of Mull off the coast of Scotland and a group of lads who’d come from Denmark. Seriously, these were dedicated fans of fantasy and sci-fi who came every year to nerd out with fellow enthusiasts. The costumes were amazing. Real effort had been put into them and the people who came to our stall to talk and buy were all lovely.

Friday was a great day. There were a few events and author panels on the stage during which most trading ceased, but business was brisk in between. We were stunned when several people bought one of every book we were selling. This is what we do, they told us, we buy a year’s worth of reading each year. If by any chance you are reading this Colin, we all love you and are thinking about wearing We Love Colin badges next year. Seriously, this guy bought everything we had, and then came back on Saturday and bought one of all the non-fantasy books I had brought to fill in the gaps because I’d almost sold out the day before.

All three of us were busy for the whole day talking, selling, signing, and handing out cards. It was an amazing day. Stupidly, I hadn’t taken anything to eat with me. I took a 2l bottle of water and drank the lot, but because it was a diet day I thought breakfast would see me through until dinnertime. By one though, I was faint and lightheaded and knew I needed to eat something, preferably carbs, or else risk being unsafe to drive home.

I did what any girl would do in such circumstances. I went in search of chips.

There were several food stands outside the main hall. The first one I looked at sold chips — at £7.99 a portion! I don’t think so. I went a little further and found another one selling a large portion of chips for £3.89. That was more like it. I ordered a portion, and they cooked them fresh whilst I waited. On the chalkboard menu, each item showed not only the price but the calorie content. Did they have to do that? I mean, really, did they have to?! If I’m committed to having chips, I do not need to be informed that there are 851 calories in the portion I’m about to stuff my face with. It could have been worse, adding cheese to the chips boosted the calories to a whopping 1749!

I refrained from having cheese, instead put so much salt and vinegar on I think they feared for my health. I then tucked the warm soggy parcel under my arm and smuggled them back into the main hall.

Technically, there was no food allowed in the hall, but I’d become pals with the doorman when I gave him a good deal on Erinsmore and Mage Quest for his niece and gift-wrapped them prettily for her birthday, so he turned a blind eye as I and my odoriferous parcel wafted by.

I slunk down behind the stall and ate the lot and my word they were good and just what I needed. My energy levels restored, the rest of the day passed in a selling frenzy and by the end of it, we had all sold upwards of 25 books each, which is good.

The others asked if I wanted to stay and have fish and chips before heading for home and I was tempted, but it was going to be a long drive home in rush hour traffic. I was tired and headachy. I just wanted to go home and to be honest, I was all chipped out.

As I drove home there was a beautiful sunset which I enjoyed, despite being half blinded by it, but as I neared home the skies grew menacingly dark overhead. I reached home and unpacked the car. As there was going to be another mega party in the hall that evening, we had been advised to take everything away as they could not be held responsible for the consequences. I had just got everything indoors and dashed to the bathroom for a much-needed pee when the heavens opened, and torrential rain smashed onto the skylight. I was very relieved I’d made a sensible decision for once and come home straight away.

Saturday, we were all bright and perky and looking forward to another fantastic day of trading. But things didn’t work out quite so well as they had on Friday. Event after event took place on the stage with us left sitting behind our stall waiting for things to stop so trading could commence. They never really did. With trading squeezed into a few scant moments between the puppet shows, author panels, cosplay competition, and other shenanigans, we only sold half the amount we had on Friday. Which was annoying and disappointing. Initially, we believed the event ran for four days, which it did. Then we were told there would be no trading on Thursday. Fine. Then we were told no trading on the Sunday. Okay. But, as it turned out, there was only trading on Friday and briefly on Saturday. To charge £172 for a 3ft table and one full day of trading is a bit naughty.

I did the sums, adding up my takings and then subtracting the pitch fee, diesel, the cost of buying the books plus the postage charged by Amazon to get them to me, the cost of bookmarks, gift wrapping sundries, bags, and even allowing something for the paper and ink for the Julia Blake logos I print and stick on the bags. I did make a profit. Not a huge one, but a profit, nonetheless. Will we do it again next year? That will require thought and discussion. One option is to do what the trader selling plushies had done. They paid for 2 x 6ft pitch spaces and brought their own tables because they’d done the event before and knew what the deal was. Perhaps we could do that. Then we’d be sure of the space we’d have and taking our own tables we would ensure having large enough tables to share. It’s next year though so not a decision we have to make immediately.

As you can imagine, I was exhausted Saturday evening but made sure I unpacked and repacked my boxes ready for Leiston Craft Market the next day. Another long drive, this time out into deepest darkest rural Suffolk. I had faith in my Google Maps lady though.

Sunday dawned a chilly overcast day. I loaded up the car early in the morning, plugged in the postcode and off we went. The first part of the journey was on the A14, so a nice easy run and I made good time. Then I turned off into no man’s land and it was all a bit here be dragons after that. I passed through ravishingly pretty village after village all with improbable names — Coddenham, Ashbocking — how do you bock an ash? Is it some ancient country skill now sadly lost forever?

My great-grandfather was the village ash bocker, don’t you know.

The roads got narrower, the villages more remote, and remember those banjos I mentioned in my last blog? Well, I am positive I really did hear them this time. The roads grew steadily worse with potholes large enough to swallow a mini.

I knew I was heading for Leiston, so when Google Maps spat me back out onto an A road with a signpost to Leiston, I was confident I was nearly there. Turn right, said the signpost. Keep going, said Google Maps lady. Umm, okay. I have faith in you, and I know that there’s always more than one way into a village. The fair was taking place in the football stadium so perhaps that was situated outside the village. Another right turn flashed by for Leiston and then another. Still, the Google Maps lady remained adamant that I needed to keep going. I kept going. I drove through Yoxford. A deep suspicion was growing that I’d gone wrong somewhere. If I kept blindly following the Google Maps lady’s directions, I would simply get wronger. I pulled into a layby and phoned my fellow author whom I was doing the fair with.

Where are you?

Umm. I squinted at a signpost. Saxmundham.

What the hell are you doing there?

That’s a very good question.

I turned around and headed back the way I’d come. Passing through Yoxford I emerged on the other side and saw a turning to the left for Leiston. I took it. Ignoring the plaintive bleeps of the Google Maps lady who was imploring me to turn around, I drove along twisty lanes until I popped out into a village that I assumed was Leiston. Not sure where to go, I saw the White Horse Hotel on the left-hand side which conveniently had a large empty car park. I pulled in and turned off the engine. I found my glasses. Looked at my phone and cancelled my current journey. I then plugged in that my location was the White Horse Hotel in Leiston and that my destination was Leiston Football Stadium.

Your destination is 500 metres on the right, the Google Maps Lady smugly informed me.

Right, good, thanks for that, I muttered.

Reaching the football stadium, I was the last to arrive so was told to quickly unload my car into the hall and then take it away and park it before they opened for business in twenty minutes. Luckily, I’m so used to setting up my stall now that I can do it in my sleep and at speed.

So, after all that, how did it go?

Once again, the weather was against us. It was a cold, wet, muddy day so footfall was down. At least, according to the regular traders it was. The fair was from ten to four and I sold eight books, which doesn’t sound much, but because the pitch fee was only £15 it worked out equally as profitable as Gt Yarmouth. Will I do it again? I’ve booked to do the Summer Fair in June. Let’s see how footfall is then.

Oh, and one last thing. The Google Maps Lady may be very good, but it seems she can’t allow for operator error. In my sleep-deprived state early in the morning, I had plugged in an IP17 postcode instead of IP16, so she was quite correct in her assumption that I wanted to go to Saxmundham. I am sorry for all the names I called you, Google Maps Lady. I promise to do better in future.

After such an exhausting three days, I went back to work on Monday for a rest. After work, I drove the car to my garage and left it there to have its MOT on Tuesday. Hopeful that it wouldn’t cost too much to get it through, I was dismayed when they phoned to say it had failed. I was a bit shocked, to be honest. I’ve never had a car fail before. It turned out the horn wasn’t working, I don’t think I’ve ever used it, so I wouldn’t have known. More seriously, a front spring coil was broken and had to be fixed. Pothole damage most probably, they told me, we’re getting a lot of it this time of year. Hmm, I wonder how that happened. So, that was a total bill of £238 which I could have done without but at least I know the car is sound and roadworthy for my long trip up North to collect the girls from university.

As I’m writing this on Wednesday, I still have it to come tomorrow, but by the time you read this, it will be over and done with. Hopefully, it will have been a smooth and uneventful journey, and we will all be home safe and sound. Well, I will be at the Stonham Barns Easter Craft Fair by the time you read this on Sunday. I am planning to be up at silly o’clock on Thursday to be on the road by 5am to miss all the morning rush hour traffic around Cambridge and Birmingham. I’ve told them to be ready for a quick turnaround. Whilst they load the car I will probably need to pee and then we’ll start the journey back. I plan to get an hour of the journey behind us and then we’ll stop for a bang-up breakfast. By then, I will be desperate for food and coffee.

It will be lovely to have them home for the holiday, even if it does involve a 6-8 hour round trip each way for me. So, it’s going to be a very early night for me with my alarm set for 4.30am.

Gulp. Not looking forward to that.

Finally, Hide & Seek, book six of the Blackwood Family Saga was launched today (Wednesday). It went well, and I was touched by the amount of support I received from people sharing my posts and stories. If you bought a copy then I hope you enjoy it and, if you did, would mind posting a review on Amazon and even on Goodreads if you have an account there? Thank you in advance. I do see and read every review and they mean the world to me.

It’s now almost five and I think I need to switch the heating on. As I’ve sat here writing this it’s grown colder, and I can barely feel my feet. I want to have a shower this evening, so I need to make sure the bathroom isn’t the frozen North beforehand.

Have a wonderful Easter if you celebrate it. If you don’t, then I hope the next two weeks are happy and smooth sailing for you. Will they be for me? Well, probably not, this is me after all.

Take care.

Julia Blake