KAREN CHARLTON
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News: Our Success on the Quiz show 'eggheads'

8/1/2015

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WINNING 'EGGHEADS'

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The six of us stood nervously in the foyer of the Glasgow hotel at an unearthly time in the morning, waiting for the taxi that would take us to BBC Scotland. It was dark and the pavements outside glistened with ice.  I could see the tension on the pale faces of the other as we pondered the next few hours.  Would we face glory or public humiliation?  

None of us had slept particularly well in our strange beds in that alien city. Glasgow city centre is full of noise at night; apart from the lively revelers there are also the wailing police sirens and whirling police helicopter blades to cope with.  I had also spent the evening swatting up on food & drink questions and answers until my eyeballs ached. As I fidgeted nervously in the foyer, I realised that several of my team were probably thinking the same thing as me:  What the bloody hell have we done?


It was about a year ago when Sam, a fellow member of my Tuesday night quiz team at ‘The Ship’ in Marske, came up with the crazy notion that we should apply to the BBC to go on TV and take on the eggheads – allegedly the best quiz team in the UK. I had never watched the program before that point but I knew it was a British institution with a massive following of fans.  I blithely agreed when he asked if I wanted to be part of the team. To be honest, I never thought that it would come off. But it was only seven months since the death of my husband and I was still automatically accepting every invitation I received, which I think is what widows are supposed to do. 

So when Sam came back to us all a few weeks later and said that we had been invited to an audition in Leeds, I was quite surprised.  Giggling, I went home and knocked on my seventeen year-old son’s bedroom door.

‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘I might be going on 'Eggheads'.’ 
‘Why can’t you be ruddy normal?’ he groaned. 

The audition in Leeds at the Queen’s Hotel was great fun and we had a fabulous day out. We had to answer some questions and let them film us talking about ourselves. Then we went head to head in a short quiz against a group of men in hats from Lincolnshire. I think the hats were their trademark and something to try and get the producers of the show to remember them. I have no idea if it worked because we never saw these guys again.  But when we got the ‘Dress Rules’ from the BBC a few months later, I noticed that  hats were completely prohibited on ‘Eggheads.’  That little ruse may have backfired on them. 

A month later we got the call; we were on. The BBC invited us to Glasgow on Tuesday 4th March to participate in the show. I gulped. What had previously been a laugh and a pipe-dream of Sam’s, was now suddenly very, very real. We were about to take on the best quiz team in Britain – on a TV show which has a regular audience of over one million people.  I felt nervous, excited and woefully inadequate. 

We had a lovely supper around at John and Sue’s prior to the show, were we played the box-set game of ‘Eggheads’ for a laugh. Despite the copious quality of alcohol we consumed, we also started formulating a plan; our much vaunted ‘strategy.’ John, Peter and Woody were all cool guys and very clever and we decided that we would try to get the three of them into the final. 

Sam and I agreed to be the sacrificial lambs. We would take on the rounds which the others didn’t want, especially sport and food and drink. I began to feel more comfortable with the idea of going onto the show and less worried about making a complete idiot of myself; at least if I failed to answer any questions at all  – then I could always tell folks that this was the plan. 

When we arrived at BBC Glasgow for the filming, the production assistants did their absolute best to put us all at ease and they gave us coffee and breakfast.  They never left us alone in the building for a moment. We were even accompanied to the toilet. I was also kidnapped by makeup/hairdressing for over an hour. I have never experienced so much backcombing, curling and tweaking on my hair in my life.  She didn’t say much but I think I was her challenge for the week. It wasn’t until we started getting a string of assistants turning up at the door asking if they could ‘have Karen back’ that I realised that the woman was on a mission. Fortunately, I liked the finished result. 

I also picked up quite a bit of gossip while I was in make-up. The unpopularity of egghead C J with viewers, the production crew and the other eggheads was the main topic. We also learned that there had often been fights in the Green Room amongst the competitors about who was going to appear on the show and who was going to be the ‘reserve’ and stay back stage. Each team had to bring a backup contestant in case someone was taken ill or had an appalling attack of stage fright. Luckily, Judith, Peter’s mum-in-law, had so happily agreed to take on this role for us several weeks ago; so there was no squabbling amongst our team.

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Walking into the studio and taking our seats was awesome. They fitted us up with microphones and gave us more instructions. Then the eggheads and Jeremy Vine arrived and we all shook hands. Nobody actually said: “Lights, Camera, Action!” but it was happening; I was being filmed for ‘Eggheads.’  My nerves returned and a rigid smile fixed itself across my face.

The choice of subjects for the rounds on ‘Eggheads’ is random; you never know what is going to come up.  But to be honest we couldn’t have asked for a better selection. Peter’s best subject was geography and that round came up immediately. He won and got into the final round with John.   Sam did a sterling job with the sports round but was sadly knocked out in the sudden death challenge. Next up was arts & literature which was Woody’s best subject.  He and Sam very graciously tried to make me take it, but I remembered our strategy and I insisted Woody took those questions.  He too won the head-to-head challenge and ended up in the final. 

It had worked.  I could feel myself relaxing. We had got John, Woody and Peter into the final.  All that was left now was for me to pick up the last remaining round, whatever it was. 

It was music. As they led me away to the private room to be filmed in my head-to-head with the Egghead called Dave, I remember laughing and saying to him: ‘Well, I think this will be a quick round for you, Dave - I know bugger all about any music except Abba!’ 

As it turned out, I knew more about music than I thought I did and successfully answered questions about ‘Men at Work’ and Verdi. But I came unstuck though on a question about Billy Elliot and was knocked out. My brother said kindly that I was ‘robbed’ but I know differently. I was lucky to have been able to answer those first two questions correctly.  

My time in ‘Eggheads’ was now over and all Sam and I could do was sit back and watch the other three guys face the eggheads in the final. It didn’t take them long to win. Seventy four year-old Woody was amazing. Who else in the world knows the name of all three Gorgons?

Yes, we won £4,000 pounds. Divided up between the six of us came to £666 each.  I opted to treat myself to a rose gold dress ring form Harrods to permanently remind me of this fantastic experience. Utter extravagance of course, but I don't regret it one bit.

What I remember most about ‘Eggheads’ was not the filming, but the fun I had with the others both before and after the show. Even the long train journey was a laugh. They really are a great bunch of people. 

Would I do it again? Probably not.  My children, including my ungracious son, said today they were really proud of me after the show was aired on TV last night but I’m not one to push my luck. I’m not that clever –  I was just lucky enough to be part of a fantastic team.  


Midsdlesbrough Gazette Article about us
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Book Review: 'The Magpie' by J.G.Harlond

1/4/2013

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THE MAGPIE - J.G. Harlond

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The Magpie is the story of Leo Kazan and Davina Dymond, lovers separated by continents, time and social convention. Set in the tumultuous years between the two World Wars when revolution ripped Russia apart and nationalism and the Home Rule movement began to dismantle 400 years of the British Raj in India, it is a love story played out on an international stage. 

Leo is half Russian and half Indian, an orphan (or so he thinks) and a talented linguist. He is also a thief, attracted like a magpie to everything which glitters.  He becomes the protégé of Sir Lionel Pinchcoffin, the District Political Officer in Bombay. Pinchcoffin recognises Leo’s talents and turns him into a spy.  From an early age, Leo is immersed in the seedy world of international espionage and diamond smuggling.  He travels from India to Europe and Russia but the most meaningful time in his life are those few stolen days he spends with Davina in London.

The Magpie is a fascinating novel here and Leo is a very likeable/loveable rogue. The book is richly immersed in historical context and I can see, feel, hear and smell India and Spain.  It’s a fabulous piece of escapism for the reader, and a brilliant evocation of Colonial India, written with vigour and pace.  



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Travel:  Northumberland and Edinburgh

27/2/2013

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Adventures of a wandering author...

I rarely travel away these days and usually I’m not allowed out on my own (for reasons which will soon become obvious) but I have just returned from a short trip 'oop north' to see my friend, Babs, in deepest, darkest Northumberland and another friend, Jill, in Edinburgh.  

My journey to ‘the village with no bus’ in rural Coquetdale proved relatively uneventful.  I wound my way carefully down the remote wooded valleys, catching glimpses through the trees of the surrounding snow-topped hills which resembled fat iced buns, I followed the diversion signs to circumnavigate the landslip and managed to avoid the humungous pothole which rent the road in two. 

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A kune kune pig
I always approach the junction where the petting farm spills out into the lane with extreme caution.  This time I merely had to stop to let a glossy-feathered cockerel strut across the road.  Yes, an entire pack of alpacas watched me over the crumbling stone wall and a couple of kune kune piglets snuffled in the muddy verge, but thankfully there was no sign of the wild goat herd and I didn’t hit anything with a pulse.   

Fortunately, nothing hit me either.  I was a little alarmed to see on the TV news that both the French and the British armies were involved in a major artillery bombardment exercise on the Otterburn ranges to coincide with my visit.  Thankfully, I can report that their missiles were all on target on Friday. However, the vast number of potholes which pepper those Northumbrian lanes suggest that this hasn’t always been the case.


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Edinburgh in the snow
Unfortunately, I had a few problems later in Edinburgh when my sat nav repeatedly tried to take me down a road that was dug up to accommodate the expanding tram network.  Round and round the city centre I went – and kept coming back to the same spot. I eventually made it to Jill’s new flat (two hours late) but not before I had spent ten minutes at number 25 trying to persuade a man to let me in.  I later realised that I had misread the address and I should have been at number 27.  (Ooops.)

Jill and her partner spoilt me rotten and the magnificent city of Edinburgh gleamed with sunlight all day on Saturday. Apart from snapping off their toilet door handle, and mistaking Jill’s cat for a cushion and trying to prop it up on the back of the sofa, the weekend was relatively uneventful.  

And, yes…my next trip will be to specsavers… 


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Review: 'The Sacred Stone'

27/2/2013

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THE SACRED STONE by The Mediaeval Murderers

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I thoroughly enjoyed reading ‘The Sacred Stone’ by the Mediaeval Murderers and found it a fascinating concept.  Five different historical novelists take the single idea of a strange stone, reputed to possess curative powers and – in the wrong hands – the power to summon demons, and they write about its progress through the Middle Ages.  Each author specialises in a different period of history and created a unique story around the mystique of the stone.  

A shard from an ancient Arctic meteorite, the sacred stone becomes legendary and the centre of controversy and crime. Theft, mayhem and murder follow it wherever it goes - and it goes a long way. From Greenland to Ireland, England and France the stone is handed from one distinctive character to another.  The five stories are rich in historical detail and take the reader on an enjoyable romp through six centuries. Every aspect of Mediaeval life is portrayed from the court of Edward III to the plight of the persecuted Jews in Norwich and the subjugation of the serfs in rural Devon. I was a little surprised that the final story took us out of the Mediaeval era and into the world of Shakespeare’s London, but as it contained the best description of a hangover I have ever read, I am not unduly bothered by this anomaly.

My only complaint is that the eBook contained no details about which author wrote which section, and it required detective work on my part to find out more about the writers of my favourite characters and stories. 



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Library Talk @ Skelton

7/10/2012

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Forthcoming Event

LIBRARY TALK and BOOK SIGNING
@ SKELTON LIBRARY

 I will talking about my historical novels and my newly released genealogy book, 'Seeking Our Eagle', 
at Skelton Library on: 
Wednesday 10th October 2012
10 - 12 am

Skelton Library
Coniston Road,
Skelton,
Saltburn-by-the-Sea.
TS12 2HN  

Phone: 01287 650487 to book (FREE)
A small charge will be made for refreshments.

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Book Review: The Day of the Jack Russell 

30/6/2012

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'The Day of the Jack Russell' - Bateman

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I adored the first novel in this series about the  'Mystery Man' who runs a crime fiction bookshop cum private detective agency in Belfast. And I picked up this next book in the series for some light-reading and distraction. 

Bateman does not disappoint.  I got far, far more entertainment than I bargained for and had several uncontrollable, laugh-out-loud moments in embarrassing public places.

The un-named main character is a  wonderful cross between Sherlock Holmes and the autistic, fifteen year-old narrator in Mark Haddon's The Curious incident of the dead dog in the night.  Supported by his enthusiastic girlfriend, Alison, and his long-suffering shop assistant, Geoff, our book-loving hypochondriac solves the mysteries of a double murder and the disappearance of a stuffed Jack Russell dog.  He outsmarts the drug dealers, the Ulster Constabulary and MI6, while neatly side-stepping all elements of personal danger and possible infection.    

Bateman is an outstanding writer of comic novels - and he's pretty darned good at crime fiction too. A great combination. I can't wait to read the next one. 

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Returning to the 'scene of the crime'

12/5/2012

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Returning to the 'scene of the crime'

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Last month, I was invited to give a talk and a Power Point presentation at Kirkley Hall - the 'scene of the crime' in Catching the Eagle. Malcolm Watson, Chairman of the Friends of Kirkley Hall kindly organised this fabulous event. To my delight, over fifty people turned up to learn about the novel and the research behind it. I still find it amazing that people are prepared to pay hard cash just to hear about the true story behind Catching the Eagle.

Apart from the Friends of Kirkley Hall I also met John Turner from the Ponteland Local History Society. John helped me with the early research into the life and crimes of Jamie Charlton. Thanks, John.

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At the book signing afterwards, several guests told me that they suspected they were descended from other characters in the novel, including: the landlady of the Seven Stars public house, 'Ma Shotton,' and Michael Aynsley's floozy, 'Lottie MacDonald.' However, I was glad that no-one in the audience stood up and announced that they were desended from my villain, Michael Aynsley. I haven't been very kind to the Kirkley Hall steward in Catching the Eagle and this could be a very tricky situation if it ever arose.

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Then I discovered that the current owners of North Carter Moor farm (the home of William Charlton) were also at the event. Now this was a scary moment, too. Last summer, Chris and I went to the farm to introduce ourselves and ask permission to take some photographs. Unfortunately, no one was at home so we were cheeky, stalked around the boundaries and took loads of photographs anyway. We did push an explanatory note through the farm's letterbox, in case any of their neighbours later reported suspicious burglarious activity. (You can never tell with us Charltons.)

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Chatting with the guests
I completely forgot all about this little escapade of ours until Mr. and Mrs. Potts introduced themselves to me at Kirkley Hall. Startled, my first thought was that they had come to serve me a writ for trespass. Fortunately, they just wanted me to sign their copy of the novel. Lovely people. Everyone was very kind and hospitable and the whole event was a fabulous night out for me.

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Northumberland Book Launch - Cancelled

29/12/2011

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Northumberland Book Launch - Cancelled

Unfortunately, in this life we cannot win 'em all. 

Sadly, my Northumberland Book Launch at Kirkley Hall (due to take place on 8th January) has had to be cancelled because of  unforeseen circumstances.

While I am disappointed, I am not downhearted.  I have had such a fantastic twelve months and far more than my fair share of luck during this time. 

Thank you to everyone who tried to help me with this Book Launch - especially the staff at Kirkley Hall, Malcolm Watson of 'The Friends of Kirkley Hall' and John Turner from The Ponteland Local History Society.  I look forward to seeing you all again in 2012.

My apologies to anyone who was hoping to attend this event and is now disappointed.  Hopefully, I can meet you at another one of my forthcoming Northumberland events.  Please keep an eye on the dates and venues on my 'Events' page.  More dates are to be added soon.
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Beautiful, beautiful Bellingham

5/8/2011

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Beautiful, beautiful Bellingham...

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The cricket pitch outside our hotel room
We have just returned from a very pleasurable stay at the Riverdale Hotel, Bellingham, on the banks of the River Tyne.
The food there is fantastic and it is one of our favourite places to just chill out.  Bellingham is also the setting for the first novel in The Detective Lavender Series: The Missing Heiress.

Naturally, we were not going to miss out on the opportunity to combine a bit of research with some hedonistic pleasure.  ;)
http://www.riverdalehallhotel.co.uk/

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Elsdon Pele Tower
In my novel, a young woman, Helen Carnaby, disappears in mysterious circumstances from her family home in October 1809.  She lives with her half-brothers and sister in an ancient Pele Tower which I have called Linn Hagh (from the old words for 'waterfall' and 'hall.') Pele Towers were family homes. They were built for protection during the dark days of the Border Reivers, when this area of Northumberland, was a lawless, no man's land between two warring nations. Linn Hagh Pele Tower is a figment of my imagination, but in the novel I have based it on the famous Pele Tower at Elsdon (still a private residence.)

The case of The Missing Heiress is investigated by Detective Stephen Lavender and his assistant, Constable Woods. 

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Between my fictitious Linn Hagh and Bellingham, are the very real Hareshaw Woods.  This steep-sided ravine is virtually inpenetrable, apart from the single path which meanders alongside the river.  Above the path, the hillside rises steeply up to the rocky crags above.  Many trees are contorted into grotesque shapes as they try to defy gravity, balance and reach the sunlight all at the same time.  Some of the tree trunks are split like the sides of Chinese paper lanterns. Most of them are covered in moss, many sport a fabulous display of giant fungi.  Fallen trees can look like huge serpents or prehistoric monsters.

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The path crosses the river at several points as it heads towards the waterfall - Hareshaw Linn.  This was our favourite bridge.  Here, Chris and I saw a dipper bobbing in an out of the water from the slimy, black rocks below.  Earlier we had seen a small flock of goldfinches weaving around collecting seeds from a cloud of thistledown.

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Hareshaw Linn
Finally, we reached the magnificent Hareshaw Linn.  At over 100ft high the waterfall is a spectacular sight and extremely noisy, as hundreds of gallons of water crash down onto the black, Jurassic rocks below.  Combined with the overhanging sides of the gorge above, it is also quite unnerving.  Huge boulders jut up from the black pool like tombstones.  We made this journey on a brilliantly sunny day.  Just imagine how forbidding it must be in in the depths of an icy winter - or in those dark, brooding days of late autumn, when The Missing Heiress is set.

Reluctantly we turned around, and headed back for the hotel.  The entire walk was about seven miles from start to finish and I loved every step of it.  Although, I have to confess that I had a good half an hour nap when we got back, while Chris watched the cricket match from the patio outside our room.

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Hareshaw Linn
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The first 'Catching the Eagle' literary tour... ;)

1/8/2011

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The first Catching the Eagle literary tour...  ;)

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The Charltons return to Kirkley Hall.
A few weeks ago we had a very enjoyable day out in Ponteland with our good friends, Iain and Christine.  They were curious to see the places mentioned in Catching the Eagle and Iain offered to take more photographs.  Jokingly, we dubbed the trip 'the first Catching the Eagle literary tour.'
Despite the horrendous rain we had a great day and a fabulous lunch at the Newhamm Edge Coaching Inn - now called The Highlander.

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Looking out from the courtyard over the grounds
Our first call of the day was at Kirkley Hall itself - the scene of the infamous burglary.  The staff were wonderful and let us wander around freely taking photographs.  They never batted an eyelid about the fact that my Chris was a descendant of the burglar mentioned on their website.  However, when we were leaving the operations manager, Graeme Cook, did make a joke about searching Chris' haversack for any missing silverware (much to every one's amusement.)

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Standing in front of the 'family pile' - Morpeth Gaol
After Kirkley Hall we made brief visits to Milburn (where Jamie and Cilla lived) and Stamfordham church were they married, before finishing the day at Morpeth.  By this time it was bucketing down and we were wearing rain coats over our jackets.  Despite this, I think that this is my favourite photograph of the day.  We were happy and relaxed - unlike poor Jamie Charlton who was dragged through that door 200 years ago, wearing leg irons.  I bet he wasn't smiling.  We really liked the shopping area in Morpeth and I became so  distracted, that I quite forgot to keep my eyes open for all the public houses mentioned in the novel. 

Never mind, we'll just have go back again another day.
 
(All Photographs by Iain Wolstencroft.)

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