I’ve just launched my historical romance, ‘The Corsair’ in the Kindle store, the last of my romances to reach ebook form.
It has a special place in my affections, partly because it has a lightheartedness about it, and a central relationship without any of the doubtful aspects of many of the other romances (see my previous post).
But most of all I’m fond of it because of something that happened after it was first published by Hale, under the pen-name Mary Corrigan, back in 1984.
My children were verging on their teens, old enough to read my books. One evening, I went to say goodnight to them as usual, and order lights out. As I reached the bedroom door, one of them called, ‘Mum, listen to this! It’s great – it’s really funny!’ – and then proceeded to read aloud a passage from the last chapter of ‘The Corsair’ where all misunderstandings are resolved in laughter, for all the world as if it was the first time I’d ever heard of it.
I’ve had decent reviews of many of my books, a few very good ones, and a handful of complimentary letters from readers, including one, who later became a firm friend, who thought ‘Disordered Land‘ the best novel about the English Civil War that he had ever read.
But the response I treasure most is that outburst of spontaneous enjoyment from one of my own children. I can’t think of anything in my writing career that has given me greater pleasure.