June and I have been chatting. We think that new people to our blogs may need a summary of what's going on and what they can do to help. We need help. Read as much of my blog and June's blog (http://junehaversham.wordpress.com ) as you can. There may be clues we haven't spotted.
In a nutshell, someone has been pretending to be Jasper Fforde calling himself Jasper Ffforde (note the triple f). He seems to have bookjumped with Miss Havisham into our world and then escaped. He told her they would get married but she can't remember his name. (Why can't she remember?) He put the wrong answer for question 11, and asked for these scribbling tiebreakers. It seems as if he is using these and material from classic books he's sucked blank to make a book, which he is launching on 7th July. We need to stop him.
Everything is building to this date, the 7th of July. Swindon. If you can be there, great. If you can't, can you send someone in your place to the book launch of the mysterious Jasper Ffforde.
The classic books he has blanked so far are a cheap edition called Dupine. There are only certain places that stock them. We need to find them all and see if there are any clues inside them.
And, strange as it seems, Miss Havisham advises that we must keep sending in scribbles as per the competition. If we have our words in the enemy's book, it may help...
And we must find out who this Ffforde is really.
Any theories, speculations or ideas you have, please send them in. We'll post them here.
And please help with all these things. Literature depends on us.
ps
The competition still goes ahead as usual with prizes. As long as we stop Ffforde!
Saturday, 7 July 2007
Wow - looks like you've done really well with the characters - Miss H is up
working on the footnoterphone system. She has her fingers in the BT socket
with a roll of gardening wire and pages from my books. I am very worried.
She says there's no way of knowing if you've got them absolutely right until
you actually speak to them. Make sure you bring the list with you.
She says the lockword rings a bell, but her mind is still all confused. She
thinks we might need to find whoever did this to her and find out what they
did to Jasper's memory as well.
Right - I shall see you all tomorrow. Try to be on time so we all know
exactly what this evil impostor is up to.
I must go, there's smoke coming from the socket
Amy
working on the footnoterphone system. She has her fingers in the BT socket
with a roll of gardening wire and pages from my books. I am very worried.
She says there's no way of knowing if you've got them absolutely right until
you actually speak to them. Make sure you bring the list with you.
She says the lockword rings a bell, but her mind is still all confused. She
thinks we might need to find whoever did this to her and find out what they
did to Jasper's memory as well.
Right - I shall see you all tomorrow. Try to be on time so we all know
exactly what this evil impostor is up to.
I must go, there's smoke coming from the socket
Amy
Friday, 6 July 2007
I have had a plate of sardines and cream sitting at my window all day. And although he took longer than I thought but sure enough, his lumpen paw has just been padding away at the glass. It's amazing what greed can tease out of a tom cat, well, one clue extension...
He said he noticed that the woman's mate smells of ink and bits of
parchment as well. Their house is in quite a busy small town and several
nice smelling young ladies often visit - one of whom strokes him, which he suffers to show willing.
Miss Havisham is much more enamoured than I am with the cat. She thinks that the only thing he really really hates are dogs. Must be why he took enormous pleasure in regaling us with tales of prowess and his relish in beating to a pulp the fierciest dogs on the block. He's a right little brusier.
(NB Thank you to the person who sent an email update - very helpful indeed. Does this shed any more light for you?)
He said he noticed that the woman's mate smells of ink and bits of
parchment as well. Their house is in quite a busy small town and several
nice smelling young ladies often visit - one of whom strokes him, which he suffers to show willing.
Miss Havisham is much more enamoured than I am with the cat. She thinks that the only thing he really really hates are dogs. Must be why he took enormous pleasure in regaling us with tales of prowess and his relish in beating to a pulp the fierciest dogs on the block. He's a right little brusier.
(NB Thank you to the person who sent an email update - very helpful indeed. Does this shed any more light for you?)
Thursday, 5 July 2007
We managed to track down the alley cat (and by that I mean he's a surly little bas***d) to interrogate him for more information the minor characters.
However, information wasn't easily revealed. The problem is that - being a cat - he actually doesn't really understand how us humans relay information. He is frustratingly preoccupied with smells and sounds and doesn't give a hoot for names. And so it was hard for him to understand what Miss Havisham was asking (which perhaps isn't entirely his fault).
Nonetheless, he promised me that he would do his best. He then looked meaningfully at me until I gave him some cream. (Little hustler). Anyway. Here's what we got:
This minor character smells of roses. And paint. And fear. The cat says he argues and complains a lot.
The cat says that this girl is quite young. He also says she is stupid, but then he says that about most humans. She weeps a lot and her hair smells of apple blossom. He thinks she has been left by someone, but since he also leaves all the females he’s ever known he can’t see what she’s making such a fuss about. Cats don’t go in for pictures much, but when Miss Havisham bribed him with my salmon steak, he said if he had to portray her it would be with a face as white as jasmine.
The cat hates this minor character so much he won’t speak of him. Except to say rather smugly that he made him whine, which apparently only a man who kicked him used to be able to do.
The cat doesn’t like this woman. She smells of disinfectant, but also of sickness. She is not a sympathetic person, he thinks – unlikely to give a hard-working cat any milk. This was clearly a hint and Miss H handed over some milk. Almost monstrous, he said as he cleaned his whiskers (at least Miss H said that’s what he said)
The cat likes this woman. Others he thinks are rather prejudiced against her, but he can’t think why – there are lots of parties in her house which means he gets to eat scraps in the kitchen – although he doesn’t like the soldiers who turn up there.
The cat isn’t interested in this young man. Everything in that particular book exhausts the cat. He’s not much of a one for talking (I would never have guessed) and he says the whole scene makes him feverish. There’s lots of weeping and rushing about. The young man’s father, he says, may be an ensign, but he has never worked out what happens because a) he’s not interested and b) everyone digresses so much.
I hope that these help!
Only one day to go!
However, information wasn't easily revealed. The problem is that - being a cat - he actually doesn't really understand how us humans relay information. He is frustratingly preoccupied with smells and sounds and doesn't give a hoot for names. And so it was hard for him to understand what Miss Havisham was asking (which perhaps isn't entirely his fault).
Nonetheless, he promised me that he would do his best. He then looked meaningfully at me until I gave him some cream. (Little hustler). Anyway. Here's what we got:
This minor character smells of roses. And paint. And fear. The cat says he argues and complains a lot.
The cat says that this girl is quite young. He also says she is stupid, but then he says that about most humans. She weeps a lot and her hair smells of apple blossom. He thinks she has been left by someone, but since he also leaves all the females he’s ever known he can’t see what she’s making such a fuss about. Cats don’t go in for pictures much, but when Miss Havisham bribed him with my salmon steak, he said if he had to portray her it would be with a face as white as jasmine.
The cat hates this minor character so much he won’t speak of him. Except to say rather smugly that he made him whine, which apparently only a man who kicked him used to be able to do.
The cat doesn’t like this woman. She smells of disinfectant, but also of sickness. She is not a sympathetic person, he thinks – unlikely to give a hard-working cat any milk. This was clearly a hint and Miss H handed over some milk. Almost monstrous, he said as he cleaned his whiskers (at least Miss H said that’s what he said)
The cat likes this woman. Others he thinks are rather prejudiced against her, but he can’t think why – there are lots of parties in her house which means he gets to eat scraps in the kitchen – although he doesn’t like the soldiers who turn up there.
The cat isn’t interested in this young man. Everything in that particular book exhausts the cat. He’s not much of a one for talking (I would never have guessed) and he says the whole scene makes him feverish. There’s lots of weeping and rushing about. The young man’s father, he says, may be an ensign, but he has never worked out what happens because a) he’s not interested and b) everyone digresses so much.
I hope that these help!
Only one day to go!
To: Writers of scribblers
Intrepid detectives and guardians of literature
Friends, family and loved ones of the above.
Date: 7 July 2007
Time: 1pm
Place: New Bridge Square, SN1 1EA (Ffforde’s launch pad)
Why: To stop the fake Jasper Ffforde bringing about the demise of literature as we know it.
Mission:
- Keep doing what you’re doing – you’re doing brilliantly.
- We need to continue the hunt for the Dupine books and find the minor characters. Miss Havisham is trying to find the cat again to get him to name names.
- We also need to find this ‘place’ that the real Jasper talked about so we can see if there is anything to be seen via bookcam. I’m sure it’s written down in the new book (but it must have been added since the proof stage and it’s definitely not the troublesome footnotes, that seems to have been a coincidence.)
What to bring on Saturday: 1. An intrepid mind
2. Comfortable shoes
3. Your scribbles (Miss Havisham is insistent these hold the key.)
4. If you’ve not written a scribbler, don’t worry, the more people we have, the better. Or write one before you arrive.
5. Wrist bands. So that I know who you are. And they’re excellent wrist bands. (See below)
Contact: 07857 813406 (My mobile number. If you have any problems on Saturday – call me – and I will direct you.)
In short: Miss Havisham and I very much look forward to meeting you all. We cannot fail.
RSVP - let me know if you can make it!
Intrepid detectives and guardians of literature
Friends, family and loved ones of the above.
Date: 7 July 2007
Time: 1pm
Place: New Bridge Square, SN1 1EA (Ffforde’s launch pad)
Why: To stop the fake Jasper Ffforde bringing about the demise of literature as we know it.
Mission:
- Keep doing what you’re doing – you’re doing brilliantly.
- We need to continue the hunt for the Dupine books and find the minor characters. Miss Havisham is trying to find the cat again to get him to name names.
- We also need to find this ‘place’ that the real Jasper talked about so we can see if there is anything to be seen via bookcam. I’m sure it’s written down in the new book (but it must have been added since the proof stage and it’s definitely not the troublesome footnotes, that seems to have been a coincidence.)
What to bring on Saturday: 1. An intrepid mind
2. Comfortable shoes
3. Your scribbles (Miss Havisham is insistent these hold the key.)
4. If you’ve not written a scribbler, don’t worry, the more people we have, the better. Or write one before you arrive.
5. Wrist bands. So that I know who you are. And they’re excellent wrist bands. (See below)
Contact: 07857 813406 (My mobile number. If you have any problems on Saturday – call me – and I will direct you.)
In short: Miss Havisham and I very much look forward to meeting you all. We cannot fail.
RSVP - let me know if you can make it!
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
I have just found this on my bed. And I feel kind of terrible.
Dear, poor Miss Havisham 27. Perhaps I've been a little hard on her, a little churlish. Scratch the crusty battleaxe veneer and look what is left; a fragile, hurt and betrayed bride who's not even the bride she thought she was. I have, of course, 'forgiven her' and just hope that she will come back. I need her help. Between us we will draw up an action plan to effect the demise of this dastardly Ffforde.
Until then, keep your eyes peeled for directions.
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