My Young By Name Blog

Posted in Family, Personal life

Who Needs Wi-Fi When You’ve Got Good Neighbours?

My column for the January issue of the Hawkesbury Parish News

Photo of view of snow from my study window
The wrong kind of snow still looks pretty when you don’t have to be outside in it

Just before Christmas, a couple of evenings after our internet and landline were felled for a week by the wrong sort of snow, I was unexpectedly detained in Bristol by the need to take my mum to the emergency room at Southmead Hospital.*

As the thick walls of our Victorian cottage don’t admit mobile signals, I was for a moment stumped as to how to let my husband know that I’d be very late home.

Then I realised the solution was simple: I’d text a neighbour to pass the message on. Unbeknown to me, she was away from home too, but she kindly forwarded the message to another neighbour a few doors down. That neighbour happened to be on the motorway at the time, but she phoned yet another neighbour, who then nipped over the road to deliver the message in person. Problem solved.

Returning home towards midnight, I was more grateful than ever to live in a community in which everyone looks out for their neighbours, and not only in the season of goodwill.

Me and my kilted husband on his motorbike
Reader, I married him.

It was a bonus that this three-step system had not distorted the original message, Chinese whispers style. Not so when I first started seeing Gordon, who later became my husband, when “He is Scottish and lives in Swindon” quickly morphed into “His name’s Scottie and he comes from Sweden”.

But then, as now, intentions were of the best – and that matters far more than accuracy.

With grateful thanks to Emma Barker, Jane Shepley, and Joan Yuill, and all good Hawkesbury neighbours.

*I should add that my mum made a speedy recovery, so happy endings all round!

Cover of All Part of the Charm
My collected columns from Hawkesbury Parish News 2010-2015, is available as an ebook and in paperback – click image for more information
Posted in Writing

From Zero to Three Novels in a Year – My Latest Post for Authors Electric

(This post was first published on December 30th 2017 on the Authors Electric blog, for which I write on the 30th of every month)

photo of Orna, Debbie and Katie in The Fox, Hawkesbury Upton
With Orna Ross (left) and Katie Fforde (right) at the first Hawkesbury Upton Literature Festival in 2014 (Photo by Clint Randall)

Writing on the penultimate day of 2017, I can’t NOT think about where this year has taken me and what next year will bring. 

Don’t worry – I’m not going to be banging on about New Years’ Resolutions. I love new beginnings and seize every opportunity for one – new school terms (I have a school-age daughter), solstices, equinoxes, birthdays, etc. But I was cured of an addiction to Resolutions a couple of years ago by my friend and mentor, the author and creativism teacher Orna Ross (you may also know her as the founder and director of the Alliance of Independent Authors).

Orna Ross made me realise that New Years’ Resolutions generally focus on the negative: things to give up or bad habits to reform. Her recommendation is to state Creative Intentions instead – a more positive, constructive system which focuses on the process rather than the outcome.

Novel Intentions

This is the approach I took for 2017, and, hey presto, it turned me into a novelist. Instead of saying as midnight chimed on 31st December 2016 “This is the year I’ll write my first novel” (for the umpteenth time), I formulated a specific plan to write and self-publish the first three Sophie Sayers Village Mysteries seven-book series, for which I’d fixed the names and broad character outlines of the key characters, the titles of each book, the timeframe of the series (the course of a village year from one summer to the next), and the timeframe for publication, starting with three books in 2017, to match the timing of each book’s setting.

The key difference? I had an actionable – ambitious but still actionable – plan that made a lifelong dream seem tangible, believable and real.

I also stated my intention publicly, a kind of reverse of “naming and shaming”, or, to put it a more positive way, like a creative marriage vow, that made me feel more committed, as if it was an inevitable result.

Thus Best Murder in Show, taking place in the summer at the time of the vllage horticultural show, was to launch on April 1st (Orna’s birthday, by no coincidence). Trick or Murder?, set at Halloween and Guy Fawkes’ Night, was out at the end of August, and Murder in the Manger, revolving around a nativity play that goes wrong, was published on 6th November – picking up the day after the last book left off.

So, from 0-3 novels in a year – and I’m three-quarters of the way through writing the next one (Murder by the Book, due out in April), and am planning two further books in the series for 2018, with the final one – plus three bonus spin-offs (an eighth novel, a novella, and a short-story collection)  planned for 2019.

From nought to three novels in a year – no wonder I’m looking smug (header from my Facebook author page)

I confess it left me exhausted – physically, mentally and emotionally – and I’ve realised that as a novelist, I’m an all-or-nothing girl. When I’m in novel-writing mode, I’m totally immersed, waking and sleeping. Literally: if my last thought at night is how to solve a plot problem or a character issue, and my first thought on waking is its solution.

So aware have I become this year of the power of my unconscious, and at times feeling as if I’m simply taking dictation rather than consciously writing, if this was medieval times, I’d worry that I’d be burnt as a witch.

But it’s been a deeply exciting and rewarding year, and it has made me very happy.

If you’d like to find out more about my novels and other aspects of my writing life, visit my website: All three novels are available as Kindle ebooks (coming to other ebook platforms soon) and to order from all good bookshops by quoting the ISBN (and from Amazon if you prefer to shop online – here’s the link to the Amazon page for the three-book series so far).

Festival Intentions

One other creative intention for the new year is the Fourth Hawkesbury Upton Literature Festival on Saturday 21st April 2018, for which I’m just finalising the programme.

I launched this Festival series in my village in 2015 as a one-evening event, offering free events for all, to be accessible even to those who couldn’t afford conventional litfest tickets and the associated costs of events such as the Cheltenham, Bath and Hay-on-Wye festivals. (As I live in the Cotswolds, I’m not far from any of those.)

It has now grown into a day-long, action-packed programme featuring about 50 authors in talks, workshops and readings – all still free to attend. Check out its website to catch news updates from 1st January:

What are your creative intentions for 2018? I’d love to know!

Posted in Personal life, Writing

That’s So Last Year: My Magazine Columns for November & December

photo of snowy tops of roof and trees
View from my study window after the snowfall before Christmas

Thanks to the unexpected consequences of a snowfall before Christmas, I’ve fallen way behind on my blog.

Who knew that snow and internet don’t mix? Our snow felled an overhead cable, cutting off our broadband and phone line for nearly a week. This crisis was resolved only when a team of engineers dug up the road to fix it. I’m still not sure how snow affected subterranean cables, but so pathetically grateful was I to have the service restored that I was not about to query their methods.

Snow and ice also took out our Sky TV. The satellite dish was covered in snow and ice, and Sky’s technical advice when this happens is simply to wait for the thaw.

photo of Dorothy looking out of my study window into the snow
To Dorothy, a window is as good as a television screen – she was transfixed by the snow, chasing individual flakes as they fell

After that, I allowed real life to take over from the internet (well, it was Christmas), so I’m now starting my new blogging year already way behind. I haven’t even got round yet to sharing here the monthly columns I write for two local magazines, the Hawkesbury Parish News and the Tetbury Advertiser, and the guest posts I write on the 30th of every month for the Authors Electric collective.

I’m torn: I like to share all those things on here not only so that I have a central record of all my writing, but also because many of you tell me they enjoy reading the columns, because they give insight into life in the rural community that has inspired my  Sophie Sayers Village Mysteries, and the Authors Electric post because it’s always about my writing.

But I don’t want to bombard my readers with a string of belated posts.

So what I’m going to do instead is tack those belated columns to the bottom of this post, and then carry on with my new blog plan for 2018, which is to post every Wednesday about aspects of my writing life, such as book news and extracts, event plans and reports and reading recommendations

If you have a particular question to ask about my writing life, don’t hesitate to ask, and I’ll add it to my list of blog post ideas for 2018.

Wishing you a very happy New Year full of peace, joy, love, health, fulfillment and great books!

And if you don’t want to catch up with those missing posts, click away now…


It ain’t what you tell, it’s the way that you tell it: in which Debbie Young tries not to lose the plot

Most authors at some point in their writing lives will come across the advice that there are ONLY SEVEN BASIC PLOTS – or maybe nine, or thirty-six, or various other numbers, depending on whom you consult.

If you’re the glass-half-empty type, it’s easy to think:

“Oh no, how can I ever hope to be original? Someone will have got there before me!”

Whereas glass-half-full types like me may think:
“Well, Shakespeare just took existing stories and upcycled them into his plays – if it’s good enough for Shakespeare, who am I to complain?”

Those who can’t even see the glass are probably best advised to throw down their pen and take up golf instead.

The BEST thing to do is, of course, to take your choice of basic plot and wrap around it your choice your characters, themes, setting, etc etc to produce a final story that only you could write.

How Shall I Write It? Let Me Count the Ways

photo of pen nib
(Photo by MJS on Unsplash)

(Photo by MJS on Unsplash)

I took as my starting point for my latest cosy mystery novel, Murder in the Manger, one of the oldest stories in modern culture, the nativity. Sophie Sayers, the central character in this series, writes her own version of the classic Bible nativity story for the village primary school and local amateur dramatic association in the Cotswold village of Wendlebury Barrow, to which she’s recently moved.

The performance of her script is a story-within-a-story, or rather a play-within-a-play (yes, Shakespeare got there before me on that too, with the “rude mechanicals” in A Midsummer Night’s Dream). It’s a plot device which complements the themes of transformation and restoration that are wrapped around it in the novel’s main plot and various subplots.

Sophie’s Choice of Story

Sophie’s telling of the nativity includes a lot of humour, including in-jokes for the villagers, (the Innkeeper is the school admissions officer, for example), without ever being disrespectful of the Bible story or offensive to believers. At the end, the vicar even compliments her on making the story more accessible to the audience than a more erudite approach such as the medieval mystery plays, which also get a mention in the story.

I don’t know how many other novels have retold the nativity, as I have in this book – but I think even such a well-known and simple plot can be endlessly reworked and still be compelling. As Sophie’s friend Ella reassures her, when she’s worrying about whether her play will work:

You’re on to a winner, no matter what. No-one can complain that the plot is flawed, or that they can’t work out which character is which, or what their motivation is. Your audience will be determined to enjoy it, come what may. They’ll mostly be related to someone in the cast, so they’ll be willing the production to succeed. You don’t have to worry about technical hitches, because you’re not using any technology – no lights, no microphones, no recordings. What could possibly go wrong?

Of course, this being Wendlebury Barrow, things do go wrong – and by the end of the first chapter, the whole congregation gathered to watch the play is accused of murder by a mysterious stranger.

But my point remains:

a basic plot can be retold in numerous different ways without losing its power

Rather than run through a list of other written interpretations of the Christmas story, I thought I’d go visual to reinforce my point…

photo of postcards of stained glass window nativity scenes
Stained glass windows were one of the earliest means of telling the nativity story – postcard images of the Burne Jones windows in Winchester Cathedral by Dr John Crook

And into three dimensions… Not far from where I live, St John’s Church in Chipping Sodbury has just started its annual Crib Festival, which each Advent displays over a hundred different models of the stable scene, contributed by all kinds of people from toddlers to professional craftsmen, with materials as diverse as Lego and coconut shells. I’m looking forward to my annual visit there to remind myself of the many different ways to tell a story.

Click here to view the church’s gallery showing the nativity story told in countless ways – each of them engaging in its own right

The Story Around the Story

And if you’d like to find out what happens next in Murder in the Manger, you can order it from all good bookstores, on the High Street and online, in paperback or as an ebook.

Here’s the Amazon link for the UK:

Here’s the Amazon link for the US:



A Nook for Books

Photo of inglenook bench seat with cushions, fairy lights, etc
My new reading nook, with handy cat cafe beneath for Dorothy

Sunday supplements’ suggestions for home improvements usually evoke hollow laughter in our house: the gift-wrapping room (who gives enough presents to justify dedicating a whole room to the activity?); the return of wallpaper (at £1,000+ a roll); the subterranean swimming pool (like something from a James Bond villain’s lair).

So the latest trend, the Book Nook, took me by surprise. As soon as I read about it, I wanted one.

What’s a Book Nook?

A cosy corner reserved for curling up with a good book, furnished with copious cushions and throws to keep you cosy while you escape into the pages of your current read.

A Book Nook doesn’t require much investment, provided you can find a little space somewhere in your house. That may be easier than you think. We’ve just created one from a disused inglenook fireplace, previously used primarily as a repository for the cat’s bowls where we wouldn’t fall over them.

Which leads me to suggest that the best way to identify a potential Book Nook in your house is simply to follow your cat.

Cats like to hang out in cosy corners: wide, sunny windowsills, empty alcoves, the cupboard under the stairs, even the airing cupboard. What could be cosier?

So our new Book Nook is where I’ll be heading in future when I want to lose myself in a good book, though I may have to fight the rest of the family, and probably the cat too, for the space.

Once you’ve identified your nook, if you find you’re lacking a book, just head up to the Hawkesbury Stores for the solution to your problem. I’ll be filling the book corner, at the back right of the shop, with carefully selected second-hand books for all tastes and occasions, with all proceeds going to the Stores, alongside a collection of new books by local authors.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to my Book Nook…


When Every Night is Fireworks Night

Cover of the November issue of the Tetbury Advertiser
The November issue of the Tetbury Advertiser

The Lord Mayor of London’s proposal to abolish woodburners in the city’s Emission Zone should not have affected us out here in rural Gloucestershire, with our abundant supply of fresh air and local logs. I don’t know whether there’s a fuel equivalent to food miles, denoting how far a product travels from source to point of use, but the journey of some of the wood burned in our house can be measured in metres rather than miles.

Even so, his announcement made me realise that it was time to replace my ancient woodburning stove with a more efficient, less polluting contemporary model.

The stove itself had been hinting to us for some time that it was ready for retirement. Bits kept falling off it, and running repairs had become more frequent. By the end of last winter, we’d reached the point at which closing its multi-paned double doors had turned into a Chinese puzzle. Unfortunately, I’ve always been very bad at doing Chinese puzzles.

The stove’s efficiency was also decreasing. This went against the (wood)grain in a household fitted with solar panels, supplied by electricity from sustainable sources (Ecotricity), and populated by habitual wearers of jumpers, thermals and boots throughout the winter.

Considering that we’d bought it twenty-five years ago, second-hand, for £150, we didn’t feel it owed us anything. So we made for the nearest stove showroom, prepared to splash out. We plumped for the most environmentally-friendly woodburner on display, designed to burn wood at the optimum temperature for fuel efficiency, while minimising emissions and particulates. In short: more heat for less logs – and a conscience as clear as the new stove’s window.

Now in pride of place in our inglenook stands a neat iron box with one large rectangular window in its single door. The stove’s size and shape remind me of the television we had when I was a child, and it’s just as compelling to watch. Its clever design keeps the glass forever clear, providing a constant display of flames and sparks from an ever-changing array of kindling and logs. It’s like having a Guy Fawkes’ Night display in the comfort of my own front room.

But best of all, the fire works.

I wish you a cosy November, however you choose to keep warm.



Lighting Up Time

cover of Lighting Up Time
This short story set at the winter solstice is available as an ebook and a tiny paperback

We’re fast approaching the shortest days of the year, when in cloudy weather it feels as if it never really gets light at all.

Successive days and nights meld into one long chunk of darkness, like a forgotten bag of boiled sweets that have congealed into a single, indigestible lump.

I was therefore pleased to read in last month’s Parish News a call from Councillor Sue Hope to light up our windows on the evening of 9th December to coincide with the switching-on of Lee’s lights and the illumination of the Christmas tree on the Plain.

Actually, I’ve been channelling my inner druid since about Halloween, turning on the string of coloured lights at the front of my house to brighten up dark evenings and drive away the SAD. By that I don’t mean repelling gloomy door-to-door salesmen, but Seasonal Affective Disorder, the form of depression induced by winter months.

A few years ago, before peak Scandimania, there was a trend to display little wooden arches of electric lights, candle-style, in our front windows. The last couple of festive seasons, these seem to have all but disappeared, perhaps naturally extinguished as their bulbs failed and couldn’t be replaced.

Such are lightbulbs, and such is life. Lighting up your windows on 9th December will be more than just an act of community. It’s an assertion that despite the darkness of these dreary winter days, we stand on the cusp of a whole new year of village life. All we need to do is keep the faith, and the sunny summer days that bring the Hawkesbury Show will roll round again, no matter how far off they might seem now.

I wish you all a bright and merry Christmas, and a peaceful New Year full of life and light.



The Time-Travelling Shopping Basket

cover of the December issue of the Tetbury Advertiser
December issue of the Tetbury Advertiser

When you reach a certain stage in life, it becomes nigh impossible to know what you’d like for Christmas. Once you’ve paid off your mortgage and got the kids into net profit, if you want something, you buy it for yourself, regardless of the time of year.

Or at least you do if, like me, you are a spendthrift but with modest tastes. I’m in that happy stage between the habitual end-of-month overdraft of the heavily mortgaged and the mid-life crisis for which the prescribed cure is a sports car.

Consequently, until yesterday, my Christmas wish list was blank. Then, walking instead of driving up the road to buy a few groceries, (my usual car habit done for the sake of speed – if only Father Christmas could bring me more hours in the day, I’d put them on my list every year), I realised I longed for an old-fashioned shopping trolley.

Not the horrid trolley only ever seen in supermarkets and upside down in ponds; nor the aluminium, nylon-bagged kind; nor even the medically-oriented type with so many functions that it almost qualifies as a caravan: shopping bag, seat, balance aid. No, what I crave is the old-fashioned wicker basket on two wheels, pulled by a long wooden handle that looks like a walking stick sent out to work for its living. My grandmother, born in 1900, used hers on every expedition to her local shopping parade in the London suburb in which I grew up.

Grandma’s trolley held just enough shopping for a few meals, plus a ball of knitting wool from her named box at Rema’s, the drapers. (We bought our jumpers in installments in those days.) She could always squeeze in a quarter of sweets from the sweetshop too. Her every-other-day shopping habit had been formed when food was bought in small quantities, fresh, dried or in cans, before the fridge, never mind the freezer, had become commonplace.

When I shared a photo of such a trolley on Facebook yesterday, several friends confessed they wanted one too. We thought if we all acquired one, we might make them fashionable. After all, they do chime with the trend to shop local and on foot, rather than in a stressful supermarket sweep by car.

But my Christmas present won’t just be a low-emission form of shopping transport. It will also be a time machine, taking me back to the days before globalisation, when a trip to the shops with Grandma meant me begging for a turn to pull her wicker shopping basket on wheels. Eagerly I’d clasp the wooden handle, burnished smooth by constant use, as were Grandma’s silken hands, stilled so long ago. Perhaps the imperative to shop local on foot isn’t the real reason that I want a wicker trolley after all.

Whatever is on your Christmas list, I hope you’ve been good enough all year for Santa to oblige. And if not, there’s always 2018.

Well, that’s my blog all up to date now! Stay tuned for the first “proper” post of 2018 on Wednesday…


Posted in Writing

Breaking the Habit of a Lifetime: Fiction Research

This post originally appeared at the end of October on the Authors Electric blog, for which I write on the 30th of each month.

One of the many reasons I love writing contemporary fiction is that it means I don’t have to bother much with research.

In this respect, I’m in good company, because as my friend T E Shepherd, who writes compelling magical realism novels, told me, Philip Pullman says:

One of the pleasures of writing fiction is that you can sit at your desk and just make up what you are too lazy to go and find out.

This is especially true for me because my current series of cosy mystery novels is set in a little Cotswold village much like the one I’ve lived in for over a quarter of a century. During that time, I’ve been a member of countless clubs, served on various committees, founded an annual fun run and a literary festival, and volunteered in the village community shop. There’s not much about daily life in Cotswold villages that has passed me by.

Having fun in Hawkesbury Upton

Being able to write from my imagination without needing to seek out corroborative facts means I can write much faster.

Productivity Bonus

An autumn read

For example, I’ve just published my third of my Sophie Sayers Village Mystery series of 2017. Best Murder in Show was published in April, Trick or Murder? (set around Halloween and Guy Fawkes’ Night) in August, and Murder in the Manger, the Christmas special,  on November 6th.

For NaNoWriMo (the global community that challenges each member to write 50k words in a month),  I’ll started writing the fourth, Murder by the Book. (If you’re a writer and you’ve never tried NaNo, I recommend you give it a go – it can transform your productivity, as my novelist friend Kate Frost explains here.)

Respect for Researchers – and Historical Novelists

I’ve always considered myself lucky that I don’t have to wade through tons of research material before I can start writing, and I am full of admiration for those who do, such as historical novelists – especially when they carry their research lightly rather than info-dumping and turning the stories into history lessons. Award-winning indie novelist and historican Lucienne Boyce gives top advice here on how to do it well, echoing (but more eruditely) my constant admonishment to my teenage daughter that no matter how many teachers tell you to Google something for homework, looking something up on Wikipedia does not constitute authoritative research.

So I’ve been surprised to find myself volunteering to get stuck into some serious research for a spin-off to my Sophie Sayers series that leapt out of my unconscious one day: the back story of one of the characters, Sophie’s beloved Great Auntie May, a bestselling travel writer.

At the start of the series, Auntie May has already died, leaving her cottage to twenty-five-year-old Sophie, who moves to the village to start a new life,  and Sophie, an aspiring writer herself, still feels her presence and her influence very strongly.

Travels with Sophie’s Aunt

Although May loves her home village, she’s spent most of her adult life abroad, with Wendlebury Barrow a bolt-hole to anchor her peripatetic life.

Having killed May off before the first story opens, there’s a limit to how much I can write about her, but I’ve found myself growing to love her and being drawn into her back story. I keep asking myself questions:

  • Why did she leave Wendlebury?
  • Does constant travel ever allow you to escape your inner self?
  • What made her return?
  • Has whatever made her keep running been resolved?

Keeping Company with Classic Travellers

Although I’m relatively well travelled, and am planning a non-fiction book about travelling by campervan, drawing on my family’s experience, I’ve never been a travel writer. Therefore my research is to read lots of travel books, from the classics (Dr Johnson, Daniel Defoe) to the modern greats (Jan Morris, Paul Theroux). I need to get inside the head of the travel writer as a genre before I can really work out May’s motivation. And what a journey I am having! Armchair travel – at this time of year, it’s my very favourite kind.

A Christmas Special

In the meantime, in my own little Cotswold cottage, I’m feeling more festive by the minute. Like Sophie’s Great Auntie May, perhaps I’ve got the best of both worlds.


For More Information


For more information about my books and writing life, check out my website:
To order Murder in the Manger, click here:
And if you fancy something seasonal but shorter to read, you might enjoy my stand-alone short story Lighting Up Time, set at the winter solstice, or my Christmas collection of short stories, Stocking Fillers – both these and my other short story collections are currently on offer on Amazon for just 99p each.


Posted in Personal life, Writing

For Remembrance Day

Lest we forget
cover of Hawkesbury At War by Simon Bendry
A moving tribute by a fellow villager (click image for more information about this important book)

I’m lucky enough to live in a village with a profound sense of community, and never is it more strongly visible than on Remembrance Sunday.

On Remembrance Sunday, villagers come together to process down the High Street from the former Hawkesbury Hospital Hall (built to nurse injured soldiers in wartime) to the war memorial on the Plain (our village green) at the centre of our village. All local groups are involved, either in laying wreaths at the service or taking part in services in school or in church or in one of our two chapels.

I don’t remember this degree of commemoration when I was my daughter’s age, living in suburbia in the 1960s.

Perhaps the war was still too close for my parents’ and grandparent’s generation – they wanted to forget. Although it’s now so much longer since the end of the Second World War, I feel much more conscious of it now.

Cover of Murder in the Manger
This Christmas special includes commemorations on Remembrance Day

For this reason, and slightly to my surprise, I found myself writing it into the Christmas special of my latest cosy mystery novel, Murder in the Manger, whose timeline runs from 6th November to the week before Christmas.

My Sophie Sayers Village Mysteries are essentially comedies, but there’s always at least one serious, and, I hope, moving scene. One such scene that I found myself writing in Murder in the Manger takes place on Armistice Day (11th November) in the village school, in which villagers join the children in the village school. During a short service of commemoration, the children recite the names on the war memorial, many of whom, as in Hawkesbury Upton, are still represented in the village by their descendants (Chapter 13 We Will Remember Them). It also draws the reader up to consider who in their acquaintance would be called up to fight should there ever be another such war. (Chapter 14 We Can Be Heroes)

I know that is something I consider every year, as I stand quietly at our war memorial during the service there, observing the young men and women in the crowd who would be sent to fight, or who would not have long to wait for their call-up papers. My daughter, her friends, and her peers.

This small episode in my novel is my small tribute to those that sacrificed their lives in both World Wars and to their bereaved families and all those who loved them, not just in Hawkesbury Upton, but all around the world.

We shall remember them.

poppy field image in public domain