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The Thing About Revenge. . .

In Tell Me Your Secret, one of the characters is out for revenge. Is she justified or will she be damaging herself and everyone around her?

 ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold’ I think that’s the revenge quote I have heard most over the years. And it’s the one that makes the most sense: someone hurts or humiliates you, you don’t retaliate straight away, instead you take your time to formulate a way to hit back at the person who did that to you.

Your plan is very careful, very detailed and perfect, so when it comes time to execute your plan, that person will – possibly literally – be on their knees, begging your forgiveness. And in that moment, you will be able to indulge yourself in that other popular payback saying: ‘revenge is sweet’.

Will you, though? Will you? Because while revenge may seem to be a very important, integral part of our society, and a lot of our entertainment particularly – books, movies, films, music – seems to be have payback at its core, the reality of revenge is very different from the thoughts of it.

You see, from all I’ve learned while researching my fifteenth book, it seems ultimately, revenge rarely provides the sense of justice or balancing of the cosmic scales that you crave.

In Tell Me Your Secret, policewoman Jody has been hunting a serial killer called The Blindfolder for fifteen years. She made a catastrophic mistake all those years ago that allowed him to carry on killing and now she feels responsible for every life he takes. She is desperate to catch him, but even more desperate to put a permanent end to him. As she says: ‘I realised what I had to do. I had to find the Blindfolder and then, I had to kill him.’

While he didn’t do anything physically to her like his victims, she is still living in the aftermath of those crimes and believes getting revenge will alleviate her guilt.

When I came to research this element of the book, I found out lots of surprising things about the psychology of revenge. And, as usual, it wasn’t what I was expecting. Psychologists who have studied this subject for years have come to pretty much the same conclusion: the revenge you seek is unlikely to give you the cathartic closure or soul-deep satisfaction you’re after.

In a series of studies, American psychologists Kevin Carlsmith, Timothy Wilson, and Daniel Gilbert, found that people regularly predict inaccurately how they’ll actually feel after they’ve taken revenge on someone . . . in other words they think they’ll feel much better afterwards but are often hugely wrong about that.

In fact, the psychologists found, people are much more likely to feel worse than if they hadn’t carried out the punishment/act of vengeance in the first place.

According to them, when you seek revenge on someone what you’re actually doing is focusing your anger on that person and anger is an emotion that only grows the more attention you lavish upon on it. As Carlsmith, Wilson and Gilbert say in their 2008 paper: ‘Anger led to punishment [revenge] which led to increased rumination about [person who is the target of revenge], and this rumination may have prevented people from engaging other strategies . . . that would have allowed them to move on and think about something else.’

They continue: ‘Participants failed to anticipate these effects, possibly due to their lay theories that punishment would improve their mood.’ In other words, if you’d focused on letting go of what was done to you, how you were wronged, rather than focusing on that other person, you might have been able to get on with your life and been happier as a result.

I’ll be honest, this does seem a bit of a tall ask and counter-intuitive to how you feel when we’re hurt. Over the years I’ve had many a showdown with those who have crossed me. By the time my elaborate and brilliant plan has been executed, the person who has wronged me is left a mere wreck while I look on from my perch as their destruction takes effect. Obviously this is all in my head. But feeling like that seems perfectly normal to me and wanting to carry out the revenge seems perfectly normal too.

However, the psychologists advise dealing with the negative feelings that the incident has thrown up and then moving on. Because you’re the one who will suffer – focusing on the act of revenge and carrying it out will only mean your mind is occupied and taken up with negative space the event created. And if your mind is occupied with nothing but thoughts of revenge, that obsession can consume you.

In Tell Me Your Secret, Jody is one of those people consumed by the need for revenge. Nothing is going to stop her finding and ending this killer – and she is so focused on that she starts to do questionable things to reach her goal including using innocent victims such as Pieta, one of The Blindfolder’s living victims, to reach that end.

And that’s the unsettling thing I uncovered in my revenge research – the pursuit of it can totally take you over, it can alter who you are, turning you into someone without boundaries who is willing to do anything and use anyone to get what you want. There might be some satisfaction at the end of it, but it will most likely be fleeting and will leave you feeling worse than when you began. And destroy everything else around you in the process.

Why does carrying out revenge leave you feeling worse? For several reasons, apparently. The main one is that those of us who don’t have sociopathic or psychopathic tendencies will feel bad about what we’ve done. And we’ll often feel bad about feeling bad, as well as miring ourselves in constant thoughts about the initial event and what we did in response. You basically don’t get any respite from thinking about what happened even when it’s supposedly ‘settled’ by carrying out revenge.

So, does that mean all revenge will leave a bitter taste in the mouth? No, not quite. German psychological scientist Mario Gollwitzer, found that it isn’t the act of revenge and seeing the person suffer that actually will make revenge ‘sweet’ – it’s the person realising why you are punishing them and acknowledging that they did you wrong. ‘The finding that it is the offender’s recognizing of his wrongdoing that makes revenge sweet seems to suggest that — from the avenger’s perspective — revenge entails a message,” Gollwitzer told The Association of Psychological Science. “If the message is not delivered, it cannot re-establish justice.”

That says quite clearly, if the person who has hurt you doesn’t understand what they did and accept your ‘punishment’ for their transgression, then you won’t feel anything like the satisfaction you’d expect. And in many ways that is handing your happiness to the responses of a person you know is capable of hurting you.

So, what are you supposed to do? How do you get over something terrible that has been done to you? Try to let it go, it seems. You take back power over that situation by not allowing what happened to define you.

Focus all that energy on taking care of yourself physically, mentally and emotionally. Instead of revenge being your project, make a better life for yourself your goal instead. Remember that other revenge saying? ‘The best revenge is living well’ that’s probably what’s good for you. I’m sure indulging in a little revenge fantasizing can’t hurt though – it’s more a case of not letting it consume you.

Jody in Tell Me Your Secret is altered by the pursuit for revenge. Do you think you would be? Or have you been? What are your experiences of revenge or getting payback? Have you been on the receiving end of revenge, how did it alter your life? I’d love to hear from you.

Feel free to email me or contact me on social media so we can start a conversation about it.

Talk to you soon.

Dorothy x

You can buy Tell Me Your Secret from:

 

AMAZON YOUR LOCAL INDEPENDENT BOOK SHOP WATERSTONES

 

 

 

Would You Survive A Serial Killer?

In Tell Me Your Secret, one of the characters survives a weekend with a serial killer. Would you manage to make it out alive?

When I was researching Tell Me Your Secret, I read a lot about what it takes to survive a traumatic experience. In case you don’t know, my fifteenth novel is about two women and their deadly connection to a serial killer. One of them, Pieta, is abducted by a man calling himself The Blindfolder and held for a weekend during which she is told: ‘If you want to survive this weekend . . . there is only one thing you must do – keep your eyes closed . . . For forty-eight hours you must not open your eyes. If you do, I will end you.’

When I began the book, I tried it out: I tried to keep my eyes closed for as long as humanly possible . . . and discovered I wasn’t very good at that. I could do it for a time – maybe fifteen or twenty minutes – but I’d inevitably fall asleep. And what was the first thing I did when I woke up? Opened my eyes, of course. That didn’t bode well for me, did it?

Then I went a bit deeper, thought about it some more – I wasn’t in a life-threatening situation lying in my own bed or on the sofa, I didn’t really have the motivation or terror that Pieta and the Blindfolder’s other victims had. So, would being in fear for your life cause you to do as you’re told or would it result in failing completely? Why do some people survive traumatic situations while others perish? And, would I be likely to make it in that sort of situation? I had to find that out before I could write the book.

I’ll be honest with you, I had to wade through A LOT of frankly unsettling stuff and ‘research’ to get the information that would help me find the basis for my story. (Pro tip: avoid anything labelled ‘survivalist’ unless you want to dive down that deep hole of people with questionable ‘politics’ planning for their version of the end of the world.)

What I found after wading through the scary stuff, gave me a lot to think and talk about. The main body of research I found came from ‘survival psychologist’ John Leach who has conducted a lot of work analysing the behaviours and patterns of those who actually don’t survive extreme and traumatic events.

His argument is that there isn’t such a thing as a ‘survivor personality’, more a way of responding to any given situation that will have a significant impact on your mental attitude going forward. He focused a lot on those who don’t survive these situations to give clues on what people can do to increase their survival chances.

He talks a lot about how the speed with which your brain can process and adapt to new information will help you to make the right decisions at the right time.

Basically, when something awful happens, how quickly can you assess the situation and react in a way that will save your life? Because, according to Leach and lots of other research, 70 to 80 per cent of people – the majority of us – will freeze in traumatic and extreme situations and will not know what to do. Only up to 15 per cent of people will actually react appropriately, immediately.

As one American social psychologist called Jerome Chertkoff told the BBC: ‘Being in a situation where your life is in danger increases your emotional arousal, and high arousal causes people to limit the number of alternatives they consider. That can be bad when trying to determine a course of action, since you may never consider the option most likely to result in escaping safely.’

This neatly explains, I think, why people don’t immediately run or fight back when they hear a fire alarm or if they’re attacked – they literally can’t. They are rendered inactive by, what psychologists have identified as shock, initial denial and disbelief at what is happening.

Not surprising, really, since very few of us are constantly prepared to be suddenly thrust into a life-threatening situation like a fire or, in the case of Pieta from Tell Me Your Secret, being abducted by a serial killer.

That’s why you should always take with a huge pinch of blarney anyone who claims they would absolutely respond in a particular way – ‘I wouldn’t sit around waiting to be told what to do, I’d do x, y and z’ or ‘I would totally fight if that happened to me’, etc – if their life was threatened.

The truth is, those people – just like the rest of us – have no clue how they would react. They can pontificate all they like, hoping that they’re right, but they can’t know until they are actually there.

Way back in 1999, I was doing work experience at the Independent on Sunday over in Canary Wharf, London. Trying to show how diligent and all round excellent I was, I decided to stay late to finish off the work I’d been given. That was the night a bomb was detonated nearby in the Docklands.

To me, it sounded like thunder, to a few people I was working with, it sounded like a bomb so they grabbed their stuff and ran: the 15 per cent who act appropriately, immediately. They found a nice pub nearby and spent the next few hours there. Me, I was still thinking it was thunder even though other people had screamed and some were crying in absolute terror. That was me, in denial because even though I’d grown up with the bomb threats most of my life, I still couldn’t comprehend it happening right by me.

A lot of people did the same: we stayed where we were because by the time we processed what was happening and tried to leave, it was too late – we weren’t allowed to exit the building because they weren’t sure if there were other bombs set to explode. So, we sat there, us in the 70 per cent group, anxious and scared, essentially waiting to be told what to do.

Interestingly, I don’t remember being with anyone who would be in the third group identified – the 15 per cent, who aren’t part of the 70 per cent, who act either immediately or after the shock has worn off, but actually cause more harm than good and ramp up the likelihood of not surviving, while putting everyone around them in danger.

Hours later, the alarms came on and over the PA system we were ordered to evacuate the building. All of us moved then – at speed. We – true to our 70 per cent-er roots – were spurred into action by someone telling us what to do. And all of us survived to tell the tale. In that instance, freezing or not acting didn’t do us any harm.

And sometimes, not acting is, according to the experts, much better than acting rashly and without any thought (the other 15 per cent I mentioned), which is much more likely to end your life. Taking a few moments to assess the situation and try to work out the best plan may look like freezing and it may actually come from inaction, but it’s probably the most likely way to escape safely.

In Tell Me Your Secret, Pieta does manage to survive her encounter with the serial killer called The Blindfolder, but not in the way people might expect – as she confesses later on in the book: ‘I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes closed for forty-eight hours. I didn’t. I didn’t keep my eyes closed for forty-eight hours.’

I like to think I would be able to do what was necessary – calm down enough after the initial panic, denial and ‘freeze’ to work out a way to save my own life. But would I be able to do what Pieta does? I’m truly not sure.

How do you think you’d do? In a stressful situation, do you tend to panic and continue in a flap until someone calms you down? Do you always know exactly what to do at any given moment? Do you take some time to come to terms with things as they develop? Do you think, that given what you’ve read here, and what you’ve seen of the world, that you can never really know what you’ll do until it’s actually happening?

I really would love to talk about this. So drop me a line via the contact me section of this site or on social media.

Speak soon.

Dorothy X

You can buy Tell Me Your Secret from:

 

AMAZON YOUR LOCAL INDEPENDENT BOOK SHOP WATERSTONES

 

 

So THAT was 2019

I don’t normally document my year, I usually move on and will sometimes talk about my hopes for coming 12 months. But 2019 has been something of a wild ride and I had to get some of it down just so I could read it and weep or laugh. The last 12 months have been a wondrous, terrifying, strange journey into the surreal, the joyous, the painful, the heartbreaking and the downright enraging experience that is life.

I’m sure other years have had all these elements, but this one is the first that has had so many extremes wrapped up in 12 months. In honour of those ‘firsts’ this is the first time I’m going to properly review my year – not chronologically cos that’d be crazy – and note down what lessons I’ll be taking from what has happened into 2020 . . .

 

Sad beginnings

The year began on a terrible note. I’d left 2018 knowing it was coming, but when we did lose someone very loved and very close, it was still a terrible blow. I wasn’t sure how we were going to cope going forwards, I knew we would cope because you have to, but I wasn’t sure how. I’m still not sure how we did, but we’re getting there. I dedicated Tell Me Your Secret to our loved one and I think about them all the time.

After this, it felt like things were not going to be good again, I’ll admit that. But life is nothing but stubborn and surprising, and the good times did indeed show up in my world.

It’s All Science To Me

I was asked by the Royal Society to be a judge for their annual Science Book Prize. I was a bit, ‘Me?’ at first then my husband, a scientist, impressed upon me what an honour it was to be asked, and said I should do it. And I’m so glad I did. Not only did I get to read some excellent books that added to my knowledge of the quantum world, the skin and the environment, I also got to meet some wonderful people. I got to hang out with Professor Sir Nigel Shadbolt, Stephen McGann, Shukry Habib and Gwenyth Williams who were a pretty cool bunch of people. I also met Professor Brian Cox who presented the award. It was a hard slog reading all those science books and then having discussions about what we thought and THEN coming to the decision we could all live with but I think the right book won in the end.

Lesson for 2020? Don’t always think some things aren’t for you, think about it before saying yes or no.

 

Hello Secret . . .

My first book with Headline was published and made it onto the bestseller list – twice! I can’t speak for other authors, but for me, whenever I finish a book and send it ‘out there’ I’m always terrified about how it will be received and how it will fare in the big wide world. It’s never a simple case of just bashing it out, and after some recent experiences, I was questioning my abilities. I knew from my wonderful editor, Jen, that she loved it and very soon other people were buying it and telling me they loved my 15th book, too. In fact, enough of them bought it to make it a bestseller and I couldn’t have been happier.

Lesson for 2020? keep showing up and keep going.

 

Ms Morrison, Missed

Toni morrison

Toni Morrison died. I went onto BBC News to talk about her the day it happened for a few minutes. It was all anyone seemed to talk about for a time, and so many people had insightful things to say about her. It was a comfort of sorts to see so many people with so many amazing things to say. And, while it was a shared grief, privately, my heart felt like it was breaking.

I’m by no means a Toni Morrison expert, I loved her writing, and I have gifted her books, but her dying felt like once again, a good person had been taken out of the world and they weren’t replaced. And I hated knowing that we aren’t going to have any more wisdom imparted by her. I know others will and have come, but I still feel sad that Toni Morrison’s wisdom won’t be added to by her and that she was here for a finite time. Her work will live on, of course, but I am still bereft that the world has been robbed of another black voice that was leading light.

Lesson for 2020? When the nonsense in the outside world rises (as it has been recently) remind myself of my most favourite Toni Morrison quote: ‘The function, the very serious function of racism, which is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining over and over again, your reason for being.’

 

Back to Trinity

I had the absolute pleasure of having an event at my old college, Leeds Trinity University. It was called Trinity & All Saints College when I attended and it was a lot smaller. But, it was nice treading over the grounds again and catching up with some old friends. In fact, it was such a nice time I started to wonder why I didn’t still live in Leeds.

Lesson for 2020? I’ll be trying to get back to Leeds a bit more often and I’ll make more of an effort to see my old friends down here. I’ve let that slip this past year and I must reconnect with them.

 

I had my confidence bashed

Aside from the bereavement, I had some struggles this year. Several things seemed to conspire to bash my confidence on so many levels. At one point, I thought I’d never show my face again, let alone write another word. I rarely talk about these things because, well, it’s hard to admit when things get tough. And people constantly expect you to be positive and ‘up’ all the time.

But, you know, it was a case of taking a proper step back, having a long hard look at myself, examining what I’ve achieved, the people I’ve helped and inspired, and realising who I am. And who I am is Dorothy Koomson. I can do this. I got back out there, attended every event with that at the front of my mind, started my next book, and remembered to enjoy as many things as I can. It wasn’t easy, but I did get myself back together enough to carry on. And wouldn’t you know it, hot on the heels of getting myself back together . . .

 

I was presented with a Black British Business Award.

  

I was given the Image Award at The Black British Business Awards. The Image Award recognises and celebrates an individual, who over a considerable amount of time within their chosen profession, has stood out amongst the crowd and set a record of excellence. I could not have been more surprised when I was given this award. After being ignored in certain circles and certain people seeming to go out of their way to act as if I don’t exist, to be presented with something that not only recognised my work but celebrated it, was next level amazing. I never expect these things to happen to me so I was very taken aback. I’m not sure who nominated me but I’m truly grateful to them.

Lesson for 2020? Even if it doesn’t seem like it, other people see and appreciate you.

 

My words, their mouths/fingers

At a few author events I was lucky enough to attend recently, I sat and very quickly experienced a tingling up my spine and upside-downed stomach when I heard very well known, successful authors parroting words that I had said in recent months about writing. I was open mouthed.

Oh I know, I don’t own words, I don’t own ideas and writing motivations, but when people who I’ve heard over the years deride the things I’ve publicly said I do and they have stated quite clearly that they don’t, emote on how these things are part of their book-creating process, well, I can’t help but think they’re full of it. And using my words, not because they mean it, but because they sound good to those listening.

If that wasn’t enough, I was lucky enough to write a piece nominating some rather excellent people for an award. They, happily, won. And the award givers, shamelessly, took my name off the piece I wrote about the nominees and basically passed it off as their own. What was sent out into the world was practically word-for-word what I wrote. Again, I sat with my mouth open reading it, impressed by their gall, hurt by their behaviour.

When black people (women particularly) say people steal their work and ideas, do believe them, this has been happening to me for a long time but this is the first time it’s been so consistently high-profile.

Lesson for 2020? To be honest, I don’t know – like something I mention below, it’ll be hard to speak up without those involved turning themselves into the victims and me becoming the evil one.

 

I wrote a sequel

 

Over the years of penning books, I’ve been very much of the ‘don’t do sequels’ school of thought. I almost always put my characters through so much that it didn’t feel fair to revisit them and dish out more pain. But in 2019 I had a story to tell and it needed The Ice Cream Girls to help it be told. And it was HARD. Really, really hard. Writing All My Lies Are True tested me to my core and I was pretty wiped out by the end of it. But you know, it’s my job, I have to put everything I am into it to make sure that I’ve done the best I possibly can to do justice to the story, so I had to do it. It was exhausting, but I can’t wait for you to read it.

Lesson for 2020? Work is hard but it’s what I do and what I love. And because of that hard work, I get to call myself a bestselling author.

 

I met some truly brilliant people in 2019

I met a LOT of new people in 2019 – it was like a roll call of truly brilliant souls entering my world properly. I finally met Nicholas Pinnock, who played Dr Evan in the TV version of The Ice Cream Girls. I’ve been in touch with him since 2013 and we finally met. And I met Jamelia. Have always loved her music and to meet her and have her tell me she liked my books . . . just heart eye emoji. Along with her I had an excellent chat with JJ Bola and Mr Robin Walker.

And I met Daniellé Scott-Haughton. Have followed her for ages on Twitter and when the divine Paula Akpan and Nicole Crentsil (who I met them for the first time this year, too) asked her to interview me for Black Girl Fest I was truly overjoyed and honoured.

Oh and then there was Aimée Felone founder of Knights Of, Eishar Kaur Editorial Director of Knights Of, who have shown the world what is possible when you have a dedication to inclusivity like they have. And I met the amazing film director Amma Asante. And I met Dawn Butler, the MP. And I met Tobi Oredein, creator of Black Ballard, an online magazine for black women, who told me that she had named one of her wedding tables after me (chuffed, crying face emoji).

And then there were amazing readers who sometimes travelled for hundreds of miles to come to my events. I appreciated every single one of them who gave their time to show up.

Basically, I met so many brilliant people this year, I’m sorry if I’ve left anyone out, but these are just some of the ones who found themselves ensnared in the Koomson Klutch™.

Lesson for 2020? I love meeting people so hopefully more of that will happen in 2020.

I met the next generation of writers

 

Two of my most favourite literary girls are Melissa and Natalie of The Black Girls Book Club. I’ve attended a couple of events with them in the past, but together with my brilliant editor, Jen, Melissa and Natalie came up with a masterclass where up and coming writers could ask me (and Jen) anything they wanted to help them get writing. It was such a brilliant event because I got to meet all these wonderful black women at the start of their writing careers, I got to help them as much as I could, and I got to feel so proud at what I knew they could achieve. If you don’t already follow Melissa and Natalie at Black Girls Book Club, do, they are a couple of the shiniest stars on the t’interweb.

Lesson for 2020: Keep my eyes open for these wonderful women’s stories.

 

‘I’m not her’

So, another low: a white author* who I’ve known for well over a decade thought I was another black author. When I say ‘known’ I don’t mean online known, or ‘met in passing’, we’ve been to many, many events together, we’ve had many, deep meaningful chats about painful, personal experiences and we were, at one point, at the same publishers. So, it’s fair to say I thought we knew each other. Apparently, not.

She walked in to the last event we attended together and made a comment that made me suspect she thought I was this other author. I batted that comment away. But twenty minutes later she was back to tell me that it was me she was talking about and then launched into some detail about why it was definitely me. I listened to her dig this huge hole then eventually said, ‘I’m not her. I’m the other one.’ Cue: Awkward silence.

She was sort of mortified – not mortified enough to not try to excuse what she’d done by saying how she’d grown up in an area that was 99 per cent white – but kind of mortified. It was a very strange experience. I look nothing like this other black author, by the way except we both happen to have dark skin. And not even the same shade. What’s most upsetting is knowing I’ll probably be expected to brush it off because she didn’t mean anything by it. You know what, though? I get to decide how I feel about this and how I feel is . . . urgh, just urgh!

Lesson for 2020? People – even the ones you think you know – are going to throw you urgh, just urgh balls!

*I’m not going to name her because this isn’t my first rodeo as they say – once names are named, lots of people who I like will perform all sorts of mental gymnastics to find reasons to excuse her and reasons why I’m being unreasonable to not just laugh it off, the net result of which will be me ending up as the bad guy in a situation not of my making where I’ve been poorly treated.

 

Politics

Urgh, just urgh.

Lesson for 2020? Urgh! Just urgh!

 

My face ended up on a T-shirt

 

At the Black Girl Fest in October 2019, I had a look around at the market place. There were so many black women selling all sorts of goods and it was fantastic to see and be amongst so much brilliance. At the Hannah Pratt Clothing stall I saw a T-shirt with an array of women black British women who had contributed something unique to society depicted. I smiled to myself at all that excellence on one piece of clothing and was about to move on when one of the ladies from the stall told me that I was number 31. Me! On a T-shirt! Me! I almost burst into tears.

Couldn’t believe that I had made it onto a T-shirt with all these other amazing women. So there you go, Dorothy Koomson on a T-shirt, you don’t get any more rock and roll than that. You can buy copies of the T-shirt here: Hannah Pratt Clothing

Lessson for 2020: Look at me on a T-shirt!

 

And so this is where I leave you. So much more has happened, and I could go on and on, but those were the things that have been at the forefront of my mind. Has 2019 been as ‘interesting’ for you as it has for me? Are there things you’ve learned in 2019 that will help empower you in 2020? Drop me a line let me know if there are.

 

Thanks for reading and if I’m not in touch with you before, Happy New Year and see you in 2020.

Book 16 is . . .

I’ve been working on Book number 16 for a number of months. This book is different to my other books and, actually, exactly the same for many, many reasons. I really hope you enjoy it. The secret’s out, but if you haven’t already seen it, here’s the news:

 

You can pre-order it here: Pre-order All My Lies Are True

Or here: Pre-order All My Lies Are True

A Different Flavour of Title

I’m often asked if would I go back and revise anything I have written in my previous books. It’s a tempting thought, but even if I could, I wouldn’t.

Admittedly, there are elements to my previous stories that I wouldn’t have written in the same way were I to be working on them today, but everything I’ve penned in the past is part of the journey to where I am today, so I wouldn’t, even if I could, rewrite their history.

That seems a strange thing to say when I’m literally trying to explain why I decided to change the title of my ninth novel. Back in 2013 when I was writing it, The Flavours of Love was the perfect title. It was a nod to the title of the cookbook that Saffron, the main character, is writing as a tribute/way to connect with her late husband, Joel. The novel is about cooking and our often fetishized relationship with food that sits incongruously with the constant societal need for people to be slim. At that time, The Flavours of Love fitted the story to a tee.

Clearly other international publishers thought so, too – in Portugal, it was called The Aromas of Love (Os aromas do amor), in Iceland it was called Taste of Love (Bragð af ást), in Bulgaria it was called The Tastes of Love (Вкусовете на любовта) – all pretty faithful to my original title. In June 2014, when Alma Littera – my publishers in Lithuania – came to publish the book, they asked if I had any other titles. The Flavours of Love didn’t translate well over there, and they wanted to focus more on the other themes of the book – the elements that deal with loss and bereavement; about how one moment can change the rest of your life. How grief can shape you into a completely different person.

The fact they wanted to focus on that, and the fact that in the book Saffron’s life is counted out in days before and after ‘That Day’ Joel died, brought me to the title: That Day You Left. My Lithuanian publishers were happy because that title did exactly what they wanted. They eventually settled on: Ta ̨ diena ̨, kai tu iš ̇ejai, which translates as The Day You Left.

Skip forward five years where I, and my publishers at Headline, are looking at giving my backlist of books shiny new covers. This made me wonder . . . should I give The Flavours of Love a shiny ‘new’ title, too? One that focused on the other, arguably more important, part of the story? When I floated the idea of changing the title to my editor, I think she was surprised at first but was very enthusiastic about doing it.

I’m nervous about the change, to be honest. I adored The Flavours of Love and that was its name for so long. . . But you know what, I’m also feeling the fear and doing it anyway because I love That Day You Left just as much. And, at the end of the day, whatever it’s called, it’s still the same story, still the same characters and still something that I hope thrills, moves and entertains you.

I hope you enjoy That Day You Left as much as I loved writing it.

Dorothy Koomson, 2019

Tell Me Your Secret Video Series – Ep 3

Hello! Episode 3 in the TELL ME YOUR SECRET video series is a special competition! You could be in with a chance to win some rather snazzy armwarmers AND get your hands on a limited-edition early reading copy of TELL ME YOUR SECRET! (You can see the prizes in the video.) [THIS COMPETITION IS NOW CLOSED!]