The Official S. J. Bolton Blog

People assume authors lead glamorous lives. 99% of the time, they simply couldn't be more wrong. We sit at computers, surrounded by increasing levels of filth depending upon how long it's been since the cleaners visited, pulling up some very dodgy internet sites that are probably only just legal and occasionally producing the odd intelligible sentence. (Course, that could just be me.) But you get the point, not remotely glamorous.

Except, every now and again, we're allowed out. We're told to scrub up and take the train up. Come to our sixtieth anniversary party in a deconsecrated church in Mayfair, said the invitation card from Transworld Publishing. Well, you would, wouldn't you? Even Lee Child did, flying in from New York for the occasion.

It was very glam and glitzy. I don't need to describe it, just look at the pics. She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed was there, showing off shiny new wedding ring and honeymoon tan; my lovely agents, Anne Marie, Rosie and Peter were there; Tom Cain was there, claiming he's finally read Sacrifice three years after I sent him a copy; the impossibly glam Mo Hayder was there; so were lots of other famous people but obviously they didn't come anywhere near me. I spotted Gilly Cooper, saw Monica Ali's name badge and spent longer than was strictly dignified trying to catch Mr Child's eye.

I met Lee Child at Harrogate last year. We had tea (for me) and apple pie and custard (for him) in a local tea-shop. He impressed upon me the importance of 100% focus to the writing career.

"Nothing else matters," says Lee.

"How about my seven year old?" I ask. "Won't let me forget I once missed his sports day to go to a crime writing-event."

"Tell him to get over it."

I duly pass on the message. Son can't decide whether to be hugely flattered that an immensely famous person knows his name or incensed that said person should dare to tell him what to do. He hatches a plan. When he is big enough, he will find Lee Child, thump him hard on the nose, Reacher style, and say, 'Get over that!'

I haven't told him that Lee stands 6' 5" and that, given his own short-arsed genes, my pride and joy is unlikely ever to make the grade.

Needless to say, Mr C kept his gaze firmly in the other direction, but I still had a great time.

Happy birthday Transworld. Here's to the next sixty years. Let's hope I'm around for a few of them.

(The distinguished silver haired gentleman signing the guest book with me is literary agent, Peter Buckman, who put me safely on a train home.)

It's a generally accepted wisdom that films based on books are never as good as the books themselves.  Well, generally accepted, maybe, but not by me.

I can think of any number of films where the production team have taken a story and improved upon the work of the original creator. Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings for a start. Whilst being a massive fan of the books for decades, I'd be first to admit the films are better. Not in every respect, granted, there are still scenes where Tolkein's version has the edge, but generally, the story is tighter, more cohesive, more dramatic and more powerful in Jackson's hands.

I heard PD James talk about this a couple of years ago, shortly after the release of the film based on her fabulous book, Children of Men. The film, as often happens, left great swathes of the story behind and a question from the audience clearly expected Lady James to slate it on these grounds alone.

She did the opposite; making the eminently sensible point that given the choice between a great movie that departs from the original story and a faithful representation that is nevertheless a poor film, she would choose the former any day.

People often ask if there are going to be films made of my books. Fingers firmly crossed, I reply, but these things take time. They then ask, will it be difficult for me, seeing my story in someone else's hands? Will I want to have input? Or even control? To make sure they do justice to the book?

No. I want to stay well clear. I want to see someone else, (preferably someone very talented, naturally) take my stories and make them work in a new format.

I had a glimpse of that process this week, when the finalists for the 2010 Book Video Awards were announced. For some months now, students from the National Film and Television School, in conjunction with Random House, Foyles Bookshops and The Bookseller magazine, have been working on short promotional videos for some of this season's crime novels and, by great good fortune (for me), Blood Harvest was chosen by the immensely gifted Nele Hecht.

I met Nele a couple of months ago when her ideas for Blood Harvest had got her through to the final of the competition. I was impressed immediately by her creative thought process, by her ability to spot the ideas and themes in the written word that would make powerful visual images. Obviously, here was someone who could take the story I'd written, adapt it to a completely different medium and - crucial point here - make it better. I began to get very excited, not only about the trailer, but about a possible future film.

I saw Nele's finished trailer for the first time a few days ago and wasn't remotely disappointed. It's innovative, gripping and seriously shocking - everything I would have hoped for and more. You can see it for yourself, and the other three finalists, which are also very good, on the link below:

www.foyles.co.uk/bookvideoawards2010

Do take a look, if you're brave enough; and vote for the lovely Nele to win, if you agree with me that hers is easily the best. The winner is announced on 15 October. Fingers crossed.