the love of a dame.
Anyone who knows me personally, or has read any of my work will most likely know the story of how it all began, but in case you don’t, I thought I would take a little time and tell you about it.
I was thirteen, or thereabouts and I was shopping and while in ‘WH Smiths’ I came across a book which changed my life. ‘The murder of Sherlock Holmes’ was a revelation to me. I recognised the gorgeous Angela Lansbury on the cover, and though I wasn’t overly familiar with the vast body of her work, I knew her face (primarily from playing Miss Marple in ‘The Mirror Crack’d’) and I grabbed this book and ran home with it (no lie). I hadn’t even seen ‘Murder, She Wrote’ yet, but as I recall, I believe it premiered the very next day.
To say I was obsessed is an understatement. I devoured the show and fell lifelong in love with Angela. I was so inspired by it, that very night I lay on the floor in front of the television and wrote what was to become my very first novel, imaginatively titled, ‘Murder my friend.’ The novel has, most thankfully, been long lost, though I admit to a tinge of sadness about that because I suppose I would like to revisit an old friend who I’m sure I wouldn’t recognise until I read him on the pages, as bad as those might be!
Prior to this, I’d been devouring books as much as I could, Agatha Christie, Alfred Hitchcock’s three detectives and Tintin were my main well-thumbed excursions. I’ve often wondered if my love for Tintin is what kick-started my whole Francophile obsession, it’s certainly possible. I read those books with a nagging doubt, never really understanding why, but now I think it was because my imagination was desperately waiting for me to catch up with it and start putting my thoughts onto paper. Unknowingly, Angela Lansbury encouraged me to do exactly that.
My writing history is checkered, with lots of false starts and near hits. I’d write a book, or a play or short story or something, anything, but my interest would wane and it would end up being filed away. But then two separate events led me to where I am now, working on my nineteenth novel, something which still amazes and flabbergasts me. Both these events bring me full circle and right back to Angela Lansbury.
In 2007, Angela made her way back to Broadway after a long break to star in a two-woman play, ‘Deuce.’ I was desperate to go but never had the chance (though I did get to see the wonderful play on a bootleg DVD). Anyway, Angela was interviewed and said she was looking to do a new MSW movie and was just waiting for the right script to come along. I don’t know what came over me, but I knew it was something I had to do. I don’t think it took me very long, probably not much more than a week and I had completed a brand new MSW script entitled, ‘The Gravestone Murders.’ I managed to get the script to Angela in New York and thus began a long and scary (for me) exchange with Angela’s assistant.
Looking back, I’m not sure I even thought anything would really come of it. I certainly dreamt it might, but I don’t think I ever believed it would. That was proven to me finally when I saw another interview when Angela stated the kind of scripts she was receiving were all about her playing her age, or older, and that was something she had no interest in doing. I knew I was sunk then.
The script I’d written was still a murder mystery, but it was also an exploration of the Jessica Fletcher character and moving her on in her timeline and how she deals with it, especially when she is no longer considered a ‘hot property.’ I don’t think the script was bad, but I also don’t think it was possible to remove the backstory I had created without it being just another MSW episode. I wasn’t so sad about it, rather it was a nice experience, particularly when I received an email from Angela via Corymore, her production company, which basically thanked me for the script and explained that though she had enjoyed it but the reasons why she couldn’t do it.
I was pleased I’d had the chance, especially because as fate would have it, I was fortunate enough to meet Angela in person later that year at a film festival in Ireland (see the photo above the blog), and we spoke for a few minutes, which I will always treasure. She was as lovely and as kind as you would imagine.
The second event which shoved me out of another writing hiatus (and one I haven’t yet receded from). Angela was now starring in ‘Blythe Sprit’ in London, and during one of the many events she took part in during that time, I ran across a lady by the name of Joy Edwards. We became fast friends, buoyed by our shared love of Angela. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Joy asked me about my writing and I said I hadn’t really written anything in a long time, but she kept at me, asking me for something to read. I relented and one fateful afternoon, nagged by my Angela pal, I wrote the first chapter of ‘Un homme qui attend,’ thinking that would be the end of it.
As we all now know, it most certainly wasn’t… and I can’t help but think how three separate events at various times in my life, all linked to Angela, have been a huge guiding force in getting me to where I am today.
I’m writing this blog in the aftermath of Angela’s death. At almost 97, I suppose I knew it was coming sooner rather than later, and it’s something I’ve always dreaded, but I’m taking solace in the fact I was lucky enough to tell her to her face what she had meant to me all of my life and what she had inspired me to do. She took the compliment with her usual grace and humility, but I was true and I’m so pleased to have had the opportunity. I will miss her future work immensely, but her body of work is legendary and I shall continue to watch it with gratitude. Enjoy your rest with your darling Peter, Dame Angela, you’ve certainly earned it.
Gx