BUDDHIST monks in Thailand and prisoners of war - just some of the characters in Tricia Walker's book that won the York writer a publishing deal.

Tricia, 43, from Clifton, will launch her book Benedict's Brother on May 3 at Borders in York, and it's all thanks to a blog.

The book is about a woman who discovers her uncle's past as a Japanese prisoner of war and meets her long-lost brother, a Buddhist monk in Thailand.

Sarah Smelik, of Coppice Publishing said: "It's a really good story and it's well written.

"It deserves to be out there."

Tricia wrote the story in 1999 when she was made unemployed. She said: "I started writing when I was ten. It must be in my genes, my dad's a writer. He (Peter Walker) wrote the books on which the TV series Heartbeat was based."

She said: "Being made unemployed at that time coincided with me selling my house, so I stayed with a friend and sat in a room for three months to write the book."

When the book was originally written Tricia said: "I went through all the disappointment of being turned down by publishers."

But last August Tricia released it as a blog, with extracts from the diary released every other week. "Because the story takes the form of a diary it was perfectly suited to being a blog," she said.

Sarah said: "Since the story has been published as a blog, its success has mushroomed. It's attracted the interest of agents in London and readers have said how much they want it as a book."

The story is inspired by real life events. Tricia inherited £5,000 from a great uncle when she was 30 and used the money to visit her brother, a Buddhist monk in Thailand. She also had an uncle Erno, whose past as a prisoner of war was uncovered as she was writing the book.


Blog entries from wwwbenedictsbrother.blogspot.com

August 2006
York
Today, my uncle left me one hundred and thirty-nine thousand pounds. I've no idea what to do with it.

Also today, I heard from the solicitor asking if I'd arrange to see him. Something about a letter.

October 2006,
Wat Pah Chatanan
I'm slowly getting used to being around monks but they're so sombre and lacking in expression.

They don't smile back when you greet them and most of them don't even acknowledge you are there. I walked passed one this morning, said "Hello", smiled at him and got nothing in reply, not even a nod. His expression didn't even change. They're even worse than the old Yorkshire men back home who might give a slight dip of the head as you pass, if you're lucky. At least I know what they mean by it. They mean, "Hello, how are you doing, haven't seen you for a while but it's good to see you even if I'm too embarrassed to say it, so be grateful I even nodded." It's like an ancient code that only Yorkshire folk understand and we ridicule outsiders for being too thick to grasp the finer nuances of it. But this lot? I haven't a clue what to make of them. They just make me feel awkward, like I'm an alien or something, which is a bit rich since they're the ones who look like they've just stepped off a ruddy space ship.

November 2006
Poo Jom Petch Retreat
I'm typing this up as I'm sitting on the balcony of my kuti. It's dark and I've only got the light of the battery-powered laptop screen, the candle lamp and my torch to write by. I know what Antony said about friendly ghosts but it's still a bit spooky here. It's the fact that I feel so exposed, like everyone can see me but I can't see them. I do like it though. It is so peaceful and it's as if this place feeds you by just being here. The moon's out and the stars seem so close. Whenever I look at the stars I always think of home. I know that at some time soon, in a few hours' time, there'll be a similar view above York. Captain Archie will be walking his spaniel and there'll be Joe on his boat and they'll be looking up and seeing what I'm seeing. It's really comforting and makes me feel like the world is not so big after all.