Copy That!

As opposed to the ones on holiday.

The word epiphany is bandied about a great deal. You could argue that it has now joined the upper ranks of cliché, proudly taking a comfy seat next to 'upping my game', 'this would mean the world to me' and the mathematically dubious 'I'm going to give it 110%'. Oh, go on then - let's also make space for 'I've been on a journey', which, ironically, doesn't travel well. 

However, epiphanies can and do occur. And, in my experience, once you've epiphed, it always seems so obvious.

So, picture the scene if you will. I have some freelance clients lined up, fees have been agreed and I'm good to go. Except that, rather than feeling elated, or just grateful (it's been a sticky month financially), I had that Sunday evening feeling you used to get as a kid when you used to think about school the next day. "What gives?" I ask myself. (I find talking aloud soothing because I've always enjoyed the sound of my own voice.) My reply is that some of the freelancing I do just isn't fun any more. I actually laugh then, but I can see what I mean. 

At this point in time, freelancing isn't a full-time occupation. I do okay out of it, for the work I undertake, although I don't remember the fun part being an essential component. I mean, how many people find their jobs fun even part of the time? 

Only...only now I realise that it does matter and I recall a conversation with our Dad, back when I was unloading lorries for a living. "No one enjoys their job," he assured me. He then qualified it by telling me about how a Radio 4 programme only found one person who really enjoyed their job - a man who made wooden wagon wheels using traditional tools and methods. (This conversation would have taken place around 30 years ago, back in analogue times.) 

I remember insisting that I was going to find a job I enjoyed, and how he'd gave me a knowing and slightly patronising smile, as if to say, 'Yeah, good luck with that.'

Anyway, back to the epiphanous present. I love writing, always have. The first thing I bought for myself out of my savings, when I started working, wasn't a suit, or a moped, or driving lessons; it was a typewriter. It dawns on me now that what I enjoy about writing is a blend of information and character; I like to add my own voice and make a piece of writing distinctive. That's much easier to do when you know the subject matter well - less thinking involved.

When it comes to copywriting I've been a bit of a generalist.

 Subjects I've written about include: Sushi, yoga, poo, voucher discounts, matchmakers, relationships, weddings, sex, VOIP, PTSD, exhibitions, technology and software, ageism in the workplace, privacy, start-ups, interior design, website design, social media, branding, life-long learning, online dating, private investigations, education, interviews, coaching, freelance writing, safeguarding, staff motivation, parental engagement, exercise, cycling, art, health, green living, green tech, chickens, creative writing, big data, cycling, comedy writing and creativity.

What can we learn from this? (Apart from my range, versatility and suppressed humility.)

1)    Become the writer you are (and not just the writer you think others want you to be).

2)    Get noticed for who you are.

3)    Develop your own, unique style. Whatever I write, when I have a free hand to create the voice of the piece, it's more often than not a conversational, informal tone with a sprinkling of humour. That's the bit that makes it fun - adding character to content.

The Value of Feedback

It's said that a true friend is one who will tell you what they really think - and why. For a writer, getting reliable feedback is invaluable. Just as a good proofreader can spot those rogue apostrophes and homonyms that you read past without noticing, so a good reviewer can tell you the essential and occasionally bitter truth. 


One must use discernment these days, of course, when reading social media and online book reviews because they offer such a wide canvas for jealousy, mean-spiritedness and invective, as well as encouragement, support and constructive feedback - if you're lucky. 



It's all in the game, I suppose, and for every book that's praised to the rafters there will also be a proportion of readers who thought it stank like last week's haddock. In fact, I received what must surely rank as the worst review I'll ever receive (on that site at least!). If I tell you it was for my magical fantasy, Covenant, and on one of the major - and tax ambiguous book retail sites, you can easily find it if you're curious.


I'll wait for you...

Ah, there you are. What did you think? Me? I was both disappointed and amused by it. Firstly, it suggested that I hadn't given the reader something of value - which is what I think most writers strive to do, irrespective of the topic or genre. Secondly, it amused me because I'd be hard pushed to get a review that bad again under any circumstances. (Although no one has reviewed my gag ebooks yet...)

The real worth of feedback, to me, is that it's an indication of whether I've succeeded - in the reader's eyes - in parceling up my ideas, feelings and themes into a cohesive package. More than that, where it's fiction, I want them to have felt something. Where my reviewer, who didn't like Covenant, is concerned, I can at least be certain that they felt something!

Many months ago I spoke with my editor at Musa Publishing about finding out if my mid-grade book about bullying and transformation, superhero club, might be suitable as an education or support tool. With their blessing, I contacted two organisations connected with young people's well-being, as well as a couple of local schools in Cornwall. The schools didn't respond, but eventually, after some polite reminders - over five months and one year respectively - the two organisations said they either didn't have time or were not in a position to review my book. And you thought agents and publishers took a long time...

Undeterred, although frankly pretty ticked off by the experience, I contacted two more organisations, and almost immediately (within a day or so), I had responses from each. (Note to self: choose wisely in future and perhaps ring up first.)

One organisation has now provided three brilliant pieces of feedback, yielding some unexpected comments. Remember the context here - this feedback is from professionals working with vulnerable / troubled children.

Pros

- Suitable for a young person who enjoys reading.

- Liked the style and conversational approach.

- Felt it illustrated the benefits of talking therapy.

- It's simple and gets to the point, making it quite accessible. 

- It gives awareness that adults have issues as well.

- An interesting story covering various issues, giving an insight into how bullying affects people.- A very touching story and easy to follow, it could help a young person understand how a group could help them.

Cons

- Didn't like the use of American English although it probably wouldn't be a problem for young people.

- Concerns that the group of young people in the book were copying the bullying behaviour towards the bully.

- Some of the language was difficult for some children to understand.

- The supportive group of young children bullied the bully and the teacher just ignored the situation, sending out a negative message to vulnerable children readers that there's no point in telling teacher as they won't do anything about it anyway.

I'm indebted to the reviewers because it has given me a completely different perspective on my children's book. 

It all raises some interesting questions:

1. Would a rewrite of Superhero Club turn it into a useful educational / support tool?

2. Would a rewrite of Superhero Club increase its popularity?

3. If I hadn't had that feedback from professionals, would I have been content with the book as it stands?

4. What would my publisher, Musa think?

I was talking recently with abstract artist Harriet Hoult, who will be guesting on this blog soon, and she felt that each piece of art she produced had its own conclusion. Perhaps every piece of creative output, once it exists in the outer world (i.e. beyond a drawer or a file on a desktop), has become what it was supposed to be. Maybe, where a book or a story is concerned, revisiting and editing after that point only unravels all the elements that put it together in the first place? 

What's your feedback on that?

Guest spot - Chloe Banks

Like many of us, I read a lot of blogs. Some are informative and some are entertaining; the favoured few are both. I'm not sure how long I've been following Chloe's blog but it's one that  I always make a beeline for when I see it in my list. As one of many who enjoy her writing, I'm   delighted to be part of her debut novel's blog tour. Come and meet her, and hear what she has to say about success, failure and final requests.

Chloe Banks lives in Devon with her husband, son and an obsession with words. She started writing for a dare and forgot to stop until it was too late. She is a prize-winning short story writer and a first-time novelist, represented by The Andrew Lownie Literary Agency.

The Art of Letting Go tells the story of Rosemary, whose peaceful seclusion is disrupted by the man who she was involved in a traumatic relationship with decades earlier; only this time he’s lying in a coma and Rosemary must decide whether to let him live, or let him go. In the midst of her secret dilemma  she meets an abstract artist who is used to manipulating shapes and colours to make people see things differently. But what else is he manipulating? And can he help Rosemary see her own situation in a different light?

The Art of Letting Go is available as a paperback and an e-book here.

On Failing and Failing Better

Many people have asked me where I got the idea for The Art of Letting Go. I wish I had something creative and brilliant to tell them. But the simple answer is this: I failed. I failed three times actually.

The first time I failed was in writing a piece of flash fiction (Dear Margaret) about a vicar who was trying to find God again after losing his wife to cancer. It got some good competition feedback, but never won the prize.

The second time I failed was in writing a short story about a girl who meets an artist on a beach during a wet summer holiday (Absence Makes The World Go Round). I loved using colours to enhance the mood of the story, but the plot itself didn’t work.

The third time was another short story (Flicker). This one was about a woman whose abusive husband was in a coma. She was convinced he could hear everything and wanted to live, but the doctors thought he was completely unconscious and so she had to choose whether to keep him alive or let him die. Her dilemma interested me, but I just couldn’t get the writing right. The plot was there; the good writing wouldn’t come.

In autumn 2011, I was looking for a new writing project and was browsing my file of stories that never made it. In a moment of flippancy, I wondered what would happen if I took the positive elements of Dear Margaret, Absence Makes the World Go Round and Flicker and smashed them up into something entirely new. I invented a new main character to tie the stories together – picking an woman in her seventies as I think older people are often more interesting than younger ones! – and started writing. 

It wasn’t the easiest way of making a coherent plot, I’ll admit that. But in starting out with three failures, that each had their own positives, I was able to create something far richer than I would’ve done if I’d started with one idea and built it from the ground up. Although The Art of Letting Go has been through many re-drafts, there are still one or two lines in it – and many ideas and themes – that come directly from those three pieces of failed short fiction. And – here’s the lesson, folks – I couldn’t have done it, if I’d deleted my failures. 

There are loads of files on my computer that I am ashamed of – stories where the writing is appalling. But I haven’t deleted them because you never know when the ugly duckling of one bit of fiction might become the swan you were looking for. I would be mortified if anybody browsed my writing folder, but I am proud of what has come out of it. In addition to those three total failures that made a success, some of my best and prize-winning short stories have been ones where I have failed first time round and taken a fresh look. Sometimes I’ve just edited more critically, sometimes I’ve re-written the story from a completely different point of view or in another tense. The originals weren’t terrible, but they weren’t right. Sometimes getting things right takes time, patience and a lot of trial and error.

So I have one piece of advice and one request for you, dear readers of Derek’s blog...

Advice: never delete or shred any piece of writing.

Request: if I die, please burn my computer before reading.

The Grapes of Roth

A chicken in every pot and a trash can for every home.

I watched a two-part interview with American author Philip Roth recently - interviewed by Alan Yentob with additional contributions from Salman Rushdie and Edna O'Brien. The dialogues were intercut with archive film footage that captured turbulent times in the American psyche.

I will confess here that I've never read any Roth, nor Updike, although I'm on nodding terms with other US authors such as Joseph Heller and JD Sallinger. Somehow, Roth always seemed too grand and imposing an author for me (his prose, I mean) - such a big deal. All nonsense  of course, but every reader makes a choice of the flimsiest of pretexts.

In that light, it sounds trite to condense a two-hour retrospective with one of the most celebrated of American writers, but nevertheless some reflections and insights struck home for me. 

- According to Alan Yentob, Roth has written over 30 novels, which gives him a broad perspective as a writer. Doubtless, not every one of his novels was lauded.
- Roth said he had doubts about his ability to write again, in between his books. What tok him through that fog was an idea that ignited him.
- He wasn't afraid to let his imagination take him into dark places, which some people might find objectionable.
- He gives 'what if' free rein, rewriting personal and world history on the page.
- He writes powerful opening lines that conjure up a voice or perspective, while intriguing the reader.

Those points made me think about how writers use their own experiences, thoughts and unresolved to create good fiction. The emotions are authentic because they're drawn from truth (or, at least, what we have believed to be true at the time).

There is heroism in that approach, but also, I suspect, collateral damage. It made me wonder what I'd write, that moment, if I were willing to be as vulnerable, as raw, and as secure in the validity of my own words.

It could go something like these opening lines:

She gave me the black eye by mistake, so she said; I never told anyone the truth.

The day I nearly got arrested was the same day I got my head kicked in by football supporters.

I was so angry with my parents for not being around when we really needed them - I only forgave them because they were dead.

Perhaps most of all, that two-part retrospective and interview gave me an insight into a man who has committed to baring his soul and his ideas on the page. What you see is what you get. Whether you think of his writing and his views, that's worthy of respect. 

July 4th

Every item tells a story.

Well, of course I wasn't going to let US Independence Day pass without a blog post. 

After all, as someone once said, parodying a comment allegedly made about Billy Connolly and the shipyards, I spent one year living there and 25 years talking about it. (To which, I replied, "Don't forget about the short stories and the novel.")

July 4th is one of those occasions steeped in myth and history that has come to mean something fixed, even though some of the reasons behind the decisions, battles and, ultimately, the birth of an independent nation are still up to debate. If you're open to a good conspiracy, I recommend The Temple and the Lodge. On the other hand, whether you're British or an American and if you're capable of reflective humo(u)r, you might enjoy this glorious piece on revocation, which airs periodically and has been wrongly attributed to John Cleese over the years. You see, mythology again.

Our ability to attribute fixed meanings to events, or even to non-events, is probably connected to our  innate need to tell stories. As Mark Twain may have said: "Never let the truth stand in the way of a good story, unless you can't think of anything better."

Recently, Thorn Sully and I were chewing the fat over skype about A Word with You Press's inaugural anthology - Coffee Shop Chronicles, Vol 1, Oh the Places I Have Bean. It's a conversation we've had a few times since the book was released into the wild. Should we create a second book? Ought we to focus on an ebook rather than a more expensive paperback, and could we maybe reduce the size of it to slim down the unit price. We chat about the weather too, sometimes.

Anyhow, I happened to mention that it may be time to promote the book a little more deliberately by cranking up Twitter, Facebook and all the other toys. Out of interest and intrigue, I checked the book out on Amazon and discovered that we had zero reviews. That's not a terrible thing; we had sold in low figures after all, opting for a more organic (some might even say lesiurely) approach to marketing. But none? 

If I explain that there were 100 entries in the anthology, it might go some way to explaining my disbelief. And, since you ask, as I was on the editorial team (as well as being a contributor), it didn't seem right to me to wave the flag personally. We've since emailed all those involved with the book, to ask for their participation, and at least a couple of reviews have appeared.

There is a valuable lesson here, and it's no criticism of those non-reviewers. People are busy; people form and lose connections with equal speed and so we, as writers, need to work hard to maintain a relationship with readers and contributors. Simply creating a book is not enough to keep readers engaged. 

Maybe they didn't like it. Maybe they didn't even know it was out there. Maybe they're wondering why we haven't been in touch since the book launch (we actually have a website and online community at www.awordwithyoupress.com, but we have had some changes recently). 

Who knows?

What we do know is that it's up to us to make the relationship work with the reader (and the contributors). 

It's important to separate facts from conjecture and to not get lost in our own stories about what we consider to be the truth. So, stories on the page but not off it!

Happy Independence Day, people, wherever you are!

In search of a perfect formula or Cu2CO3(OH)2

Not quite Cu2CO3(OH)2, but wondrous, nonetheless.

We are drowning in a sea of information, except that we're not necessarily becoming any more informed. More opinionated, possibly, but that's not quite the same thing.

Wanna be a writer?

Sure you do, and now it's easy. You don't need to live, to challenge yourself, overcome difficulties and express your inner truth; no, you just need to follow the steps, connect the dots and, most importantly of all, trust in the formula. 

Because there's always a system, right? 

Erm...

Alongside opposable thumbs, superior intellect (superior emotional intelligence pending...) and an ability to make and use tools, surely one of our greatest gifts is the ability to make and recognise patterns. We are adept at observing and recording, and then making deductions to allow us to make sense of whatever we're presented with.

When it comes to writing, which - frankly - can be a difficult thing to do - the notion of a surefire pattern or formula can seem oh so tempting. Here's the thing though: most of those patterns have worked for one or two individuals. When they say 'it did it for me' they're not kidding. But they're not you.

I'll wager few of us have deliberately tried to live a life like Ted Hughes, or Jack London, or J K Rowling, but somehow all the elements of their lives - skills, experiences and opportunities - coalesced together wonderfully and the results are literary legend. 

And yet...

There are courses aplenty that not only show you techniques to free up your own creativity, they also give you the formula. Ah, that tingly formula - making us wonder why we ever tried to take the long way around. Forget "Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg and howlet's wing," the formula for writing is, ironically, a lot less formulaic.

- You need a proper education, or an intuitive grasp of language.
- You need to apply the standard rules of grammar, or to apply your own (James Joyce and Eimear McBride).
- You need to have contacts, or you need to be lucky.
- You need a social media presence, or no one ever sold novels through social media.
- You need a strategy, or you need to learn as you go.
- You need an agent / publisher, or you need to go it alone.

Chamomile tea is available at the end of this post.

I'm not saying that there aren't many useful things to be learned from courses. For examples, a novel writing summer school I attended at University College Falmouth (and if you want to know why it's written in that order, look at the initials - I was genuinely told that) radically changed how I write and gave me new insights about plotting, POV and characterisation.

What I am saying is that you need to find the formula for you. The fact that there are no guarantees and no absolutes is not a tragedy. Sure, it can feel that way when you think you've tried everything and nothing has worked. But that just isn't so. No formula, no fate and no destiny is not a tragedy, it's a liberation.

(And yes, you might say that thinking that way is fated anyway, but how would we ever know that one way or the other. Unless we're fated to, I mean.)

Science relies on formulae, which, by definition, produce the same results when the same elements - in the same combination - are combined in an identical set of circumstances. And that's the point. No two people, no two book and no two sets of circumstances are identical.

Writing, like life, involves risks, chances, connections, timing, opportunities, inspiration, influences, money, talent, perseverance and not a little luck. Who knows? Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

Whatever your system (cosmic ordering, how to write a perfect novel pts 1 to 24, the 'you can sell a ton of books like I did' course, or my parents own a publishing house and distribution network, etc.) please don't let any of it distract you from the only system that does work.
- Select from any of 26 letters.
- Add appropriate punctuation (and only you know what's appropriate for you).
- Write with passion, style, talent and authenticity, or none of those things.
- Get to The End.
- Edit.
- Now you have yourself a book.
- Figure out what to do next.

And why Cu₂CO₃(OH)₂ in the title? Well, if you haven't looked it up yet - and I seriously doubt that - it's the chemical formula for Malachite. When I was first introduced to geology as a child, and later, when I used to make jewellery from semi-precious stones, I thought Malachite was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. Still do, actually.

The picture above holds its own story. Anything super green tends to catch my eye - broccoli, the Faery tradition, emeralds, algae covered rocks - all those and more. So when we were walking on the beach and I saw them, how could I resist? No matter that the rocks were unstable and only an idiot doesn't have two hands out to steady themselves, right? That picture is the last one the camera ever took. Shortly afterwards it - and my elbow - had a close encounter with a couple of boulders. Memory cards are surprisingly robust these days, don't you think? It must be something to do with the manufacturer's formula...

Seven Useful Tools

Sometimes it seems as though the writing life is just so damned complicated. You can't help wondering how the likes of Hemingway or Jack London managed with just a writing pad, a typewriter, and a bottle of liquor for company. But manage they did; they and countless others who did not have the blessings - and the tribulations - of technology to get them to The End.

Are you overwhelmed by choices and possibility?

Do you ever feel that sometimes this writer's life is missing something? I think I can help. I know just what's missing.

It's you.

Unless your writing has your undivided attention, mentally and emotionally, you're doing it - and your readers - a dis-service.

Fret ye not. Here are seven everyday tools to help you free up the writer within.

1. An Alarm clock. (What? You were expecting a high value development system?) This state-of-the-art time measuring tool will enable you to get up earlier, keep track of your time - in real time, and give you a reminder when your writing time starts and ends.

2. Spreadsheets. Yes, I know, it doesn't sound very creative but bear with me. Spreadsheets can help you track your submissions (so you're not waiting a year like I did...), keep running totals of chapter and story word counts, and - when the money starts rolling in - use formulae to work out profit, loss, tax and expenses. All you have to do is set the spreadsheet up properly (see Youtube!) and remember to input the data.

3. The trusty notepad and pen. Sure, it seems obvious. But how many times have you had a brilliant idea and by the time you commit it to paper your precious treasure has become a tarnished knick-knack? That notepad should go everywhere with you except in the shower. You can use a permanent marker for that and clean it off somehow later.

4. An answering machine. If you're writing, bar a genuine crisis (that's bigger than your protagonist's crisis), you are not available. You can leave a message to that effect if it makes you feel any better. Think of it as a time stealer training device. The more seriously you take your writing, the more seriously other people will too.

5. The remote control. I like Judge Judy as much as the next writer, and some fly-on-the-wall documentaries are truly compelling, but what about the dramas in your own head waiting for an audience? Turn off, or turn off and record, and prioritise your activities in line with your intentions.

6. A writing system that cannot go online. This could be an A4 writing pad; or an old laptop; or an old laptop, a router and some self control. You can make a note of anything you need to research and tackle it later to avoid interrupting the flow.

7. An open window. This will provide you with fresh air, cunning designed by Nature to help keep you awake. It will also provide background noise, and occasionally speech, to ground you in reality (now and again) and help to inspire you.

Just to show I take my own advice, I am switching off the TV for July. I will record anything I feel is worth waiting a month for, and any actual downtime can be used to watch the 30 hours of recorded material (mostly films) that I've never found time for in the last two years. I'll let you know how I get on!

What Rejection Can Teach Us

"I'm afraid it's going to have to be a 'no' from me."

David French and I once wrote that rejection was just life's way of telling you you're unworthy. Despite that note of hilarity, it may seem as though there's nothing to be gained from a rejection other than an increased desire for chocolate. However, some rejections can be very useful indeed, once you know how to interpret them.

By way of illustration, here are three recent nil points from my own table along with some thoughts.

1. Sample material from one of my novels to a literary agent.

"While we enjoyed reading your submission, which stood out from the many we receive, we couldn't find an agent here who felt strongly enough to take it further and therefore we are afraid we are not able to offer you representation for this project."

I'll start by saying that I always take rejections on trust. It saves time. I don't assume they're just being kind, or that they'd love to discuss it with me further at great length and preferably in person over coffee. It just is what it is - all they need me to know is in the words.

The highlights, as I see it

-    They enjoyed reading it.

-    It stood out from the many.

-    They couldn't find an agent who felt strongly enough about it.

For me, the key question then is why didn't an agent feel strongly enough about it?

The following thoughts arose

-    Did I target the right agent and / or the right agency?

-    Does my book have enough commercial potential?

-    What changes could I make  - and would I be willing to make - before the next submission?

An afterthought

These days there is little value in writing back to agents. They're snowed under and, realistically, they'll probably refer you to The Writers' & Artists' Handbook, or The Writers' Handbook, or even one of their own courses.

Okay, next please. 

2. This time it was a short story submission to a prestigious magazine.

"This piece was poetic and provocative, for some reason it reminded me of Keats with its longing. I really think it would work better as a poem than a story, because the event described is so isolated and framed in beauty. We’re taking a pass on this in its current fiction form, but please do feel free to rework it/resend it or dazzle us with your other stories when we re-open."

The highlights, as I see it

-    They clearly read it carefully and understood the effect I was going for.

-    I achieved that effect to some extent.

-    They're clear about what they'd like to see in order to consider it afresh.

-    I know that such poetry is not within my repertoire.

The following thought arose

- Maybe a new piece in a different genre might interest them. 

An afterthought

I sent one in and I hope to hear back in a couple of months.

3. This final rejection is from the People Per Hour freelancing site.

"Offered to another bidder, price was not the factor. Thank you for your time."

The highlights, as I see it

-    My pricing for the job was appropriate.

The following thoughts arose

-    Was my pitch right for the client?

-    Was the client right for me?

In the end, the worst rejections - and indeed the only really useless ones - are those that tell us nothing new beyond 'no thanks'. In the end, it's a piece of information we can sometimes learn from and develop as a consequence.

Now, where's that chocolate? 

Picture This

Every time I get a new notebook, at some point as I gradually fill the pages, I draw an updated version of the same diagram. It's usually titled 'My Writing Universe' or something equally modest. Basically, it consists of an overview of everything I'm writing, have written, or really ought to be getting on with. 

It covers genres and categories of writing (novels, short fiction, articles and features, comedy material, etc.) and the relationships between them. Think: lots of rough circles, lists and dotted lines. It helps me keep track and shows me where there are gaps and patterns. It's also a confessional for all those pieces I've yet to complete (or start, in some cases), sometimes added to the canon in pencil. 2B or not 2B, as they say.

I can't say whether that picture is worth 50 score words, but an image or graphical representation can allow us to see things differently.

While working on Scars & Stripes, my latest completed novel, I needed to see the shape of the book and whether the comedy, drama and, well, tragedy had the right balance. I especially wanted to get a feel for the rhythm of the highs and lows, from chapter to chapter. One graphing session later and hey presto it's clear that my idea of comedy tends to be more 'oh dear' than 'ha ha'.

Another great visual tool, which I've used in the past, is Wordle. What better way to highlight those overused words that crop up like unexpected relatives? When I produced a Wordle for Scars & Stripes I was surprised at the result - see for yourself below.

As they say, seeing is believing.