Have spent most of the day trawling my way slowly, slowly through the vast numbers of notes I took on last week’s Away Day. It’s like wading through treacle. When you have no map. Soon I think I will lose the will to live entirely. Hey ho.
Still, I’m much cheered by the thought of nipping into town at lunchtime to look at eternity rings, hurrah! I’d like one with emeralds, as the engagement ring is an emerald and, dahlings, you know how I do so hate to clash … UPDATE: I found a ring I really, really, really like in Cry For The Moon. Swoon. I’ve asked them to put it aside till Lord H and I can see it together on Saturday. It’s fabulous – I am seriously in love with it. Give me jewellery and give it to me now!... Oh Lordy, but I hope he likes it too. Anyway, while I was there, I also paid in a cheque (for books, double hurrah!), picked up a copy of the Radio Times and tried to see if there was anything about me in this month’s Writers’ Forum magazine – there wasn’t. Lordy, but I have a planet-sized ego for sure – just a shame I don’t have the confidence to go with it. Now there’s a scary thought.
Meanwhile, the tension continues to mount on the journey of the US Amazon Maloney’s Law – it now has a publication date of 29 June 2008, which is obviously wrong. But hey at least we’re moving forward towards some sort of resolution, possibly, so I’m not complaining.
And today’s exciting Chaplaincy phone query (the Chaplaincy office is temporarily with us while they’re being rebuilt) which I answered as Ruth G isn’t in today: where can I do A Level Hebrew in Surrey? I think I managed to dredge up some off-the-top-of-my-head knowledge about local schools and colleges but, goodness me, sometimes I could really do with a Phone a Friend or Ask the Audience button. It’s tough here in the hot seat, you know.
Ooh and the lovely Megan Taylor, author of the marvellous How We Were Lost, has just finished reading Thorn in the Flesh and has been kind enough to call it “a gripping and intriguing read”. Thanks, Megan – glad you liked it!
Tonight, I’m supposed to be going to both Guildford Writers and one of the Diocesan Summer Schools – I’m nothing if not overbooked … However, they’ve moved this evening’s Summer School course to somewhere near the Lido and I am too much of a Geography Wimp to attempt to work out how to get there. If only they’d kept it at the Cathedral, which I know without having to think about, then I probably would have gone, but the thought of driving to a strange place is beyond me and I am filled with existential terror. Really, it’s astonishing I go out at all. I’m just a hermit in the making.
So I think I’ll stay in and concentrate on The Bones of Summer instead – I’m on Chapter 10 of the edit now and doing a lot of juggling. Which incidentally is an essential writers’ skill that I wish they’d teach you at Writers’ School – we all need to know how to text-juggle, believe me.
Ooh and on the way home, I bravely popped into see Gladys - and she was the most pleasant and chatty she's been for a long, long time, hurrah! So I didn't need to wear my body armour after all ... I think the trick is not to talk first but to wait until she's ready to talk to me. I just went straight into her room and started sorting out the bird table outside her window and doing a lot of smiling. She seemed happier with me then, so maybe I'll try that trick next time. But hey, result!!
And finally I don’t think Lord H and I are going to be able to resist the no doubt High Tosh Factor of tonight’s new TV series, “Bonekickers” – or “Boneknickers”, as we like to call it. Archaeology, doom and ridiculous plots – just what the doctor ordered.
Today’s nice things:
1. Shopping for an eternity ring
2. Another small addition to the US Amazon Maloney entry
3. Feedback on Thorn
4. A pleasant visit to Gladys
5. Editing Bones
6. Tosh TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label Guildford Writers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guildford Writers. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
A surfeit of babies and the reluctant writer
Much amusement last night when, as usual, I was doing a million other things whilst cooking dinner. Which resulted in my chips being rather on the flambéd side of flambé. Not for the first time, I apologised to Lord H for my appalling catering skills and, again not for the first time, he insisted that everything was wonderful. Just as he was spinning these usual lies, he speared an errant chip with his fork but it was so … um … crispy that it careered off the plate and bounced against his glass with a distinctly loud crack. Ah well. If the Government ever wanted to find Weapons of Mass Destruction, my advice is to look in Godalming first.
Today, I am drowning in babies. Terrifying thought. Firstly, well done to Ang for the birth of her twin boys, and equally well done on forbearing from sending me a picture thus far! To me, they all look like Winston Churchill, you know. But as long as people get what they want in life (including babies) then I’m happy – happiness is such a rare event these days that it should be celebrated at all costs. And secondly, all good wishes to Steph from the Health Centre who is going on maternity leave and is throwing a lunchtime party to mark the occasion. It’s supposed to have a bathtime theme(!) so I’ll be taking a small selection of bath goodies. But I’m certainly not wearing a towel. God forbid.
I’ve also been attempting to sort out financial links on the student care website and in the brochures, both current and upcoming. Dammit, but why does the Government decide to change all their student websites during the summer, when we’ve already got our new literature poised and ready to go?? I suppose they think we in the educational world have nothing to do then. Ah, would that were true … Not only that, but I’m trying to sort a website query out with the Chaplaincy – and, as I’ve said before, dealing with Men of God does give you a very true-to-life concept of what it’s like to deal with God Himself: you send numerous messages, get no reply for many months and, when a reply does come, it’s not answering the question you asked in the first place. So, as ever, I’m no further forward. Sigh.
Tonight, I’m planning to be at the Guildford Writers meeting but I won’t be taking anything along to discuss. I just don’t have the heart for it really. Besides I’ll be too busy worrying about what’s happening to the blue tit family on the Springwatch webcam. They don’t appear to have the most intelligent of parents; this morning one of them tried to force-feed the chicks with a worm the size of Manhattan and, when the babies couldn’t get it in their tiny beaks, the adult ate the worm itself. Mmm. Later, a blue tit parent turned up in the nest with nothing to offer, looked terribly confused as if it didn’t know what it was supposed to be doing there and then left. Time for the social services to be called in, I feel …
Today’s nice things:
1. The chip disaster
2. Babies but only for people who want them
3. Birds.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Today, I am drowning in babies. Terrifying thought. Firstly, well done to Ang for the birth of her twin boys, and equally well done on forbearing from sending me a picture thus far! To me, they all look like Winston Churchill, you know. But as long as people get what they want in life (including babies) then I’m happy – happiness is such a rare event these days that it should be celebrated at all costs. And secondly, all good wishes to Steph from the Health Centre who is going on maternity leave and is throwing a lunchtime party to mark the occasion. It’s supposed to have a bathtime theme(!) so I’ll be taking a small selection of bath goodies. But I’m certainly not wearing a towel. God forbid.
I’ve also been attempting to sort out financial links on the student care website and in the brochures, both current and upcoming. Dammit, but why does the Government decide to change all their student websites during the summer, when we’ve already got our new literature poised and ready to go?? I suppose they think we in the educational world have nothing to do then. Ah, would that were true … Not only that, but I’m trying to sort a website query out with the Chaplaincy – and, as I’ve said before, dealing with Men of God does give you a very true-to-life concept of what it’s like to deal with God Himself: you send numerous messages, get no reply for many months and, when a reply does come, it’s not answering the question you asked in the first place. So, as ever, I’m no further forward. Sigh.
Tonight, I’m planning to be at the Guildford Writers meeting but I won’t be taking anything along to discuss. I just don’t have the heart for it really. Besides I’ll be too busy worrying about what’s happening to the blue tit family on the Springwatch webcam. They don’t appear to have the most intelligent of parents; this morning one of them tried to force-feed the chicks with a worm the size of Manhattan and, when the babies couldn’t get it in their tiny beaks, the adult ate the worm itself. Mmm. Later, a blue tit parent turned up in the nest with nothing to offer, looked terribly confused as if it didn’t know what it was supposed to be doing there and then left. Time for the social services to be called in, I feel …
Today’s nice things:
1. The chip disaster
2. Babies but only for people who want them
3. Birds.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Presents, Bones and Maloney
Was rushing to get to work today, and I’m a little late, dammit, so will have to make up the time over lunch. Or possibly tonight. Depending. I have managed to post my stepfather’s birthday card and present though – but it’s not the present I sent off for, double dammit. I’ve had to improvise so, as and when the other one finally arrives, I’ll have to save that up for Father’s Day. I’m also not entirely convinced the package I’ve made up will get there – my present wrapping skills are pants, so most of the sellotape ends up in my hair and on my nose, and there’s an awful lot of swearing. Still, one can only hope, eh.
I’ve also sent off the whole of The Bones of Summer to The Literary Consultancy and so now I’ll have to wait and see what they make of it. Goodness, what a busy morning I’ve had already!
And I’ve taken my medical questions about Bones to the wonderful Steph in the Health Centre once more to get some understanding of what would really happen in my various scary scenarios throughout the novel. I do think my questions, and indeed my plots, are getting stranger – goodness only knows what the poor woman thinks, but she does keep smiling bravely. Equally interestingly, we postponed our meeting a little as she emailed me to say she was at home waiting for a log cabin to arrive – really, there are some things one daren’t ask. UPDATE: Thanks, Steph – you were wonderful and I now know what’s supposed to happen when. You’re a star!
Back in the office, we are now all really concerned about Carol – last year she went to Cuba and when she came back Castro died. This week she’s just come back from China – and now we have a substantially more terrible event. I don’t think we’re going to allow her to go abroad again – the Carol Effect is more far-reaching than even we had anticipated … Or at least in places beginning with “C”. Croydon had better beware then. Seriously though, a terrible thing – we really don’t want any more disasters this year. The world has had its fill of them.
And I’ve been doing bucket-loads of work to the Project Welcome website so that people can know roughly how Freshers’ Week is going to be. It always takes at least six months planning and we’re already well into that period. I think it will be a lot better this year – I hope so anyway!
At lunchtime, I wandered round the campus, but not too quickly bearing in mind the heat, and watched some ducklings. Here’s an untitled poem about them:
Three Japanese girls
pause by the lake
take snaps on their mobiles
of a family of ducklings.
I wonder what they'd think
if the ducklings
took snaps back.
This afternoon I’ve been flicking through the Faiths in Higher Education Chaplaincy report – good to get up to speed on this sort of thing, you know. Could have done with more pictures however.
Tonight, I should have been going to Guildford Writers, even though I’ve got nothing to read out – but instead I’m dedicating the evening to more of the Maloney’s Law edit, as I’m in the zone now. Sort of. I managed six chapters last night, so will be starting from Chapter 12 tonight.
Today’s nice things:
1. Sending off Bones for its first editorial
2. Getting the medical know-how from Steph
3. Editing Maloney.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
I’ve also sent off the whole of The Bones of Summer to The Literary Consultancy and so now I’ll have to wait and see what they make of it. Goodness, what a busy morning I’ve had already!
And I’ve taken my medical questions about Bones to the wonderful Steph in the Health Centre once more to get some understanding of what would really happen in my various scary scenarios throughout the novel. I do think my questions, and indeed my plots, are getting stranger – goodness only knows what the poor woman thinks, but she does keep smiling bravely. Equally interestingly, we postponed our meeting a little as she emailed me to say she was at home waiting for a log cabin to arrive – really, there are some things one daren’t ask. UPDATE: Thanks, Steph – you were wonderful and I now know what’s supposed to happen when. You’re a star!
Back in the office, we are now all really concerned about Carol – last year she went to Cuba and when she came back Castro died. This week she’s just come back from China – and now we have a substantially more terrible event. I don’t think we’re going to allow her to go abroad again – the Carol Effect is more far-reaching than even we had anticipated … Or at least in places beginning with “C”. Croydon had better beware then. Seriously though, a terrible thing – we really don’t want any more disasters this year. The world has had its fill of them.
And I’ve been doing bucket-loads of work to the Project Welcome website so that people can know roughly how Freshers’ Week is going to be. It always takes at least six months planning and we’re already well into that period. I think it will be a lot better this year – I hope so anyway!
At lunchtime, I wandered round the campus, but not too quickly bearing in mind the heat, and watched some ducklings. Here’s an untitled poem about them:
Three Japanese girls
pause by the lake
take snaps on their mobiles
of a family of ducklings.
I wonder what they'd think
if the ducklings
took snaps back.
This afternoon I’ve been flicking through the Faiths in Higher Education Chaplaincy report – good to get up to speed on this sort of thing, you know. Could have done with more pictures however.
Tonight, I should have been going to Guildford Writers, even though I’ve got nothing to read out – but instead I’m dedicating the evening to more of the Maloney’s Law edit, as I’m in the zone now. Sort of. I managed six chapters last night, so will be starting from Chapter 12 tonight.
Today’s nice things:
1. Sending off Bones for its first editorial
2. Getting the medical know-how from Steph
3. Editing Maloney.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Doctors and writers
Goodness me, a sunny day today. How shocking. None of us really know what to do about it and are staring out of the window with our mouths open. What a very pleasant image. Still, it won’t last – the forecast for the rest of the week is rain. Followed by rain. Best make the most of it then.
I’m struggling with working out my travel expenses for travelling to the York conference in the new system. Apparently I’m allowed extra money per passenger – and as I took one person up to York and brought two people back (hey! I made a friend!), the maths is beyond me. I can see I shall have to rely on weeping and Ruth. Again. Must be my hormones.
Talking of which, this lunchtime, I went for my appointment with the lovely HRT doctor to see how I’m doing. Answer: OK, but I have to go in for an ultrasound scan on Friday, groan. Ah well, at least the wait isn’t too long. And hey at least it’s something to do for the weekend! The nurses at the clinic had read my Surrey Advertiser article and were all keen to buy Thorn in the Flesh so that was encouraging. I gave them the website details and will hope for the best!
In the meantime, I seem to be surrounded by online writing friends who are all getting high-powered agents and publishers and super-incredible deals. Without seemingly so much as stirring from their writing desks. Hurrah and General Rejoicing for all, of course! But, if I’m honest and human, my teeth are gritted. Severely gritted. So darn gritted in fact that they may well be welded together for all time. Deep sigh. Dahlings, sometimes the bitterness is the only thing keeping me in one piece.
And I’m ruddy tired, I must admit. I really have to aim for an early night at least once this month. I also suspect I’ve been slogging away too much on the Goldenford website and accessories, and my eyes are now begging for a more distant view. Maybe trees and fields and birds. Hmm, that sounds nice. In addition, I really need to do a few lines to The Bones of Summer fairly soon before I forget entirely what the story is about. Or, worse, where it’s going. That’s the trouble with doing web stuff – it’s deeply addictive, darn it.
Tonight, I’m at Guildford Writers. I’m taking along my short short story set in an office, so I’ll have to see what they think. It’s a bit of a wildcard tale really. Heck, I should be used to that.
Today’s nice things:
1. Sunshine
2. Guildford Writers.
3. Dreaming of an early night.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
I’m struggling with working out my travel expenses for travelling to the York conference in the new system. Apparently I’m allowed extra money per passenger – and as I took one person up to York and brought two people back (hey! I made a friend!), the maths is beyond me. I can see I shall have to rely on weeping and Ruth. Again. Must be my hormones.
Talking of which, this lunchtime, I went for my appointment with the lovely HRT doctor to see how I’m doing. Answer: OK, but I have to go in for an ultrasound scan on Friday, groan. Ah well, at least the wait isn’t too long. And hey at least it’s something to do for the weekend! The nurses at the clinic had read my Surrey Advertiser article and were all keen to buy Thorn in the Flesh so that was encouraging. I gave them the website details and will hope for the best!
In the meantime, I seem to be surrounded by online writing friends who are all getting high-powered agents and publishers and super-incredible deals. Without seemingly so much as stirring from their writing desks. Hurrah and General Rejoicing for all, of course! But, if I’m honest and human, my teeth are gritted. Severely gritted. So darn gritted in fact that they may well be welded together for all time. Deep sigh. Dahlings, sometimes the bitterness is the only thing keeping me in one piece.
And I’m ruddy tired, I must admit. I really have to aim for an early night at least once this month. I also suspect I’ve been slogging away too much on the Goldenford website and accessories, and my eyes are now begging for a more distant view. Maybe trees and fields and birds. Hmm, that sounds nice. In addition, I really need to do a few lines to The Bones of Summer fairly soon before I forget entirely what the story is about. Or, worse, where it’s going. That’s the trouble with doing web stuff – it’s deeply addictive, darn it.
Tonight, I’m at Guildford Writers. I’m taking along my short short story set in an office, so I’ll have to see what they think. It’s a bit of a wildcard tale really. Heck, I should be used to that.
Today’s nice things:
1. Sunshine
2. Guildford Writers.
3. Dreaming of an early night.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
A bloody awful day
Bugger of a morning today – I’ve really utterly hated it. Lord but I could do with another job. To be frank. I mean, ye gods, but do I seriously have to do another 20 years of this??? God help us all!! There was lots of stuff dumped on me in which I have zilch interest, and huge amounts of meetings nightmares, including double meetings for those who can’t attend the first set and rescheduling of things so distant I have no real idea what they are. Not only that but everyone seemed to change their minds at least twice as to what they actually wanted or tell me different things from different sides of the fence. Deep deep sigh. And it also appears that things I had no idea were my responsibility apparently are. Dammit.
In the end I got so stressed that I walked out of a meeting set up to try to sort some of these issues out – as in fact the meeting appeared to be making things more complicated, so I didn’t feel it was worth staying, aha. However I don’t think anyone actually noticed how upset and shaky I was – always good to know one’s worth in the company echelons is what I say … Thank God for my early reflexology appointment – I ended up bursting into tears over my poor therapist, who must now count as part-time counsellor and general Good Egg, and she gave me a specially calming and strengthening session. Crisis reflexology – it’s the way forward for office traumas. You know it makes sense.
Anyway, this afternoon, I struggled on amidst the bullets and attempted to avoid the enemy. As you do. I also tried to look at the minutes I have to type up from yesterday’s meeting (arrgh! The “M” word – I can’t bear it!), but goodness knows if they’re actually going to mean anything. I rather seem to have lost the will to live, Carruthers – somebody pass me the smelling salts.
In the meantime, a lost external professor wandered into the office and we sent him off with smiles and a map to where he should have been. Well, we are the caring side of the campus, you know. However when I rang the Secretary of the person the professor was visiting, I was given a complete verbal dressing-down about how I should have sent him somewhere else as he’d been told at least four times where the meeting venue was and why didn’t I tell him that? Well, as it’s the first time I’d ever seen this particular professor and I’m not a mind-reader, it’s hardly surprising I couldn’t tell him what I ruddy well didn’t know – but in spite of fighting a brave rear-guard action, I seemed somehow to get myself involved in ringing up all sorts of people trying to track the poor guy down whilst the original Secretary presumably went off to have a lie-down and a cup of tea. Double dammit. Still, I’m quite proud of the fact that whilst said Secretary was burbling on fairly meaninglessly I did manage to suggest that if she stopped talking quite so much we might solve the problem a little faster. Or words to that effect, aha. Sod the caring side, eh.
Tonight, I was going to go to Guildford Writers but I don’t think I can face any more people. So I think I’ll stay in and act like blob. A blob with no brains. I also put the next section of The Bones of Summer up on the Writewords Novel Group and have already gained mixed criticisms on it – Hell but the person who didn’t like it is probably right. Now I look at it, it is crap, waffly and with no strong character and I should just cut the whole ruddy thing and start again. God, but it’s so depressing sometimes. You never really feel confident in this writing game – or indeed that you’re getting anywhere. Sigh.
Mind you, on the way back to the car park in my increasingly desperate attempt to get home and stay home, Amy from Guildford Writers did stop me and say how much she'd enjoyed Thorn in the Flesh, so much so that she couldn't put it down and thought it was wonderful. Gosh, thanks, Amy - that's the nicest thing that's happened all day. And bloody hell but maybe I can write after all - just not the novel I'm doing now, dammit ...
And here’s a poem (stress is notoriously good for poetry, you know):
Gemini girl
I've always cold-shouldered
the stars
thinking that no planetary conjunction
or accident of birth
was going to organise my life.
Now God doesn't seem
such a reliable concept any more
being a Gemini girl
on the cusp of Cancer
might prove quite the sensible option.
Today’s nice things:
1. Reflexology
2. Amy's kindness
3. Poetry.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
In the end I got so stressed that I walked out of a meeting set up to try to sort some of these issues out – as in fact the meeting appeared to be making things more complicated, so I didn’t feel it was worth staying, aha. However I don’t think anyone actually noticed how upset and shaky I was – always good to know one’s worth in the company echelons is what I say … Thank God for my early reflexology appointment – I ended up bursting into tears over my poor therapist, who must now count as part-time counsellor and general Good Egg, and she gave me a specially calming and strengthening session. Crisis reflexology – it’s the way forward for office traumas. You know it makes sense.
Anyway, this afternoon, I struggled on amidst the bullets and attempted to avoid the enemy. As you do. I also tried to look at the minutes I have to type up from yesterday’s meeting (arrgh! The “M” word – I can’t bear it!), but goodness knows if they’re actually going to mean anything. I rather seem to have lost the will to live, Carruthers – somebody pass me the smelling salts.
In the meantime, a lost external professor wandered into the office and we sent him off with smiles and a map to where he should have been. Well, we are the caring side of the campus, you know. However when I rang the Secretary of the person the professor was visiting, I was given a complete verbal dressing-down about how I should have sent him somewhere else as he’d been told at least four times where the meeting venue was and why didn’t I tell him that? Well, as it’s the first time I’d ever seen this particular professor and I’m not a mind-reader, it’s hardly surprising I couldn’t tell him what I ruddy well didn’t know – but in spite of fighting a brave rear-guard action, I seemed somehow to get myself involved in ringing up all sorts of people trying to track the poor guy down whilst the original Secretary presumably went off to have a lie-down and a cup of tea. Double dammit. Still, I’m quite proud of the fact that whilst said Secretary was burbling on fairly meaninglessly I did manage to suggest that if she stopped talking quite so much we might solve the problem a little faster. Or words to that effect, aha. Sod the caring side, eh.
Tonight, I was going to go to Guildford Writers but I don’t think I can face any more people. So I think I’ll stay in and act like blob. A blob with no brains. I also put the next section of The Bones of Summer up on the Writewords Novel Group and have already gained mixed criticisms on it – Hell but the person who didn’t like it is probably right. Now I look at it, it is crap, waffly and with no strong character and I should just cut the whole ruddy thing and start again. God, but it’s so depressing sometimes. You never really feel confident in this writing game – or indeed that you’re getting anywhere. Sigh.
Mind you, on the way back to the car park in my increasingly desperate attempt to get home and stay home, Amy from Guildford Writers did stop me and say how much she'd enjoyed Thorn in the Flesh, so much so that she couldn't put it down and thought it was wonderful. Gosh, thanks, Amy - that's the nicest thing that's happened all day. And bloody hell but maybe I can write after all - just not the novel I'm doing now, dammit ...
And here’s a poem (stress is notoriously good for poetry, you know):
Gemini girl
I've always cold-shouldered
the stars
thinking that no planetary conjunction
or accident of birth
was going to organise my life.
Now God doesn't seem
such a reliable concept any more
being a Gemini girl
on the cusp of Cancer
might prove quite the sensible option.
Today’s nice things:
1. Reflexology
2. Amy's kindness
3. Poetry.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Systems, visits and Guildford Writers
Ah it’s like a Monday all over again today – the existential pain of having to go into work, groan … Still it wasn’t as bad as I’d feared (about two calming pills-worth, if you’re asking), mainly because I was running around like the proverbial until late afternoon and hardly had time to breathe, let alone think.
I’ve managed to be incredibly brave and ring some suppliers to get ballpark (hark at my management speak moment – someone take me out and shoot me before I do it again!!) estimates for our online booking system. My, how these people do like to talk. And ouch. It’s slightly more than a trip down the High Street, m’dears, ain’t it … I think we might be parking the ballpark (as it were) and carrying on as we were. Still, at least my learning curve (ho ho) has evened out a bit. These days, I don’t really think I’m able to take on more than one new thing a month or my brain explodes. Heck, who am I kidding? It’s always been like that.
Managed to squeeze in a marketing meeting about flyers and mini-guides, and look almost as if I knew what I was talking about. Possibly. I also seem to have said something intelligent about student induction somewhere along the line. Goodness knows how that happened but people seem to be smiling at me. Mind you, I hope they’re not expecting any more intelligence. At least not any time soon.
Took a late lunch and popped into see Gladys in hospital. She knew vaguely who I might be today (hurrah!) but was in fighting mood, threatening to beat the lady in the bed opposite with her walking stick and doing a heck of a lot of swearing. Sounds like a normal day in the office here in the shires to me. She also insisted that I should give her love to her mother when I left, which I was obliged to promise to do – although my séance skills are distinctly rusty. Ye gods, there are some things that even I cannot perform.
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers although I have nothing to read out – as I’m still engrossed in kicking The Gifting into touch and have no literary spaces or heart for anything else. I might have to leave early too, as I do need to try to phone a friend tonight (or ask the audience or something), as from now on it appears I have no free evenings until Sunday. Good grief, how the heck did I let that happen?!?
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting the horrible task of talking to suppliers over with
2. Managing to escape the hospital without having to prise apart two fighting old ladies
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
I’ve managed to be incredibly brave and ring some suppliers to get ballpark (hark at my management speak moment – someone take me out and shoot me before I do it again!!) estimates for our online booking system. My, how these people do like to talk. And ouch. It’s slightly more than a trip down the High Street, m’dears, ain’t it … I think we might be parking the ballpark (as it were) and carrying on as we were. Still, at least my learning curve (ho ho) has evened out a bit. These days, I don’t really think I’m able to take on more than one new thing a month or my brain explodes. Heck, who am I kidding? It’s always been like that.
Managed to squeeze in a marketing meeting about flyers and mini-guides, and look almost as if I knew what I was talking about. Possibly. I also seem to have said something intelligent about student induction somewhere along the line. Goodness knows how that happened but people seem to be smiling at me. Mind you, I hope they’re not expecting any more intelligence. At least not any time soon.
Took a late lunch and popped into see Gladys in hospital. She knew vaguely who I might be today (hurrah!) but was in fighting mood, threatening to beat the lady in the bed opposite with her walking stick and doing a heck of a lot of swearing. Sounds like a normal day in the office here in the shires to me. She also insisted that I should give her love to her mother when I left, which I was obliged to promise to do – although my séance skills are distinctly rusty. Ye gods, there are some things that even I cannot perform.
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers although I have nothing to read out – as I’m still engrossed in kicking The Gifting into touch and have no literary spaces or heart for anything else. I might have to leave early too, as I do need to try to phone a friend tonight (or ask the audience or something), as from now on it appears I have no free evenings until Sunday. Good grief, how the heck did I let that happen?!?
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting the horrible task of talking to suppliers over with
2. Managing to escape the hospital without having to prise apart two fighting old ladies
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Writers galore, army commissions and a big clear-out
We’ve spent a lot of the day clearing out the office in order to find space for new people to sit. New people, m’dears – what fun! It’s astonishing the rubbish we’ve – well, I’ve – managed to collect over four years. Really, I’m quite ashamed. I’ve also had to move my paper cut-out altar from my cabinets onto the wall – ah, it won’t be the same … Maybe I should colour it in? Might encourage a tad more divine intervention – you never know. Anyway, we all feel cleansed after our big clear-out. And we’re waiting with great anticipation for the recycling man. What fun we have here on campus.
Lord H has also saved the day for Ruth’s first night of her opera tonight – she’s doing the props for Opera South’s version of “The Bohemian Girl” and has suddenly had to come up with a 1914 Army Commission paper. Lord H managed to find something suitable on Google Images and also mocked something of his own up which he sent to us. Fab! The show can go on then … The boss (still in today but still ill, darnit!) was duly impressed with our dedication to our roles. Naturally. Well, I told him it was transformational networking and the University could only benefit from our increased happiness levels. Hmm, not sure that one will work again …
Oh and one of Ruth's old friends turned up for a chat and then announced she was ill too. Damn it, people, I am doomed, I tell you - doomed ... Somebody send me a mask to live in for the next week and I may just survive till launch day ... Lord, I hope so!
This lunchtime, I’ve got the University Writers Group, so I’m hoping people turn up with stuff to look at. I’m kind of winging it in the games area today, but I do have cut-out words for them to choose and take back for homework. So I feel I’ve achieved something. Possibly. UPDATE: actually, it went quite well and we even had one or two more new faces, so that’s looking positive. Hurrah!
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers – it’ll be nice to see what everyone else is doing as I haven’t been able to go for a while. Goodness me, what a literary day I’m having. I’ve even got something to take along, in spite of being neck-deep in my editing project. It’s the start of a short story about how to eat fruit and a strange man called Jacob. At least that’s what I think it is – I’ll have to see. It's something I started in the lunchtime group anyway, so it’s nice that occasionally the two things link up. Also it feels quite liberating even to be thinking about a short story and doing it just for fun too – it’s a long time since I’ve done either of those. Hmm, food for thought, maybe?
Today’s nice things:
1. The big tidy
2. Army commissions
3. Writers groups
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Lord H has also saved the day for Ruth’s first night of her opera tonight – she’s doing the props for Opera South’s version of “The Bohemian Girl” and has suddenly had to come up with a 1914 Army Commission paper. Lord H managed to find something suitable on Google Images and also mocked something of his own up which he sent to us. Fab! The show can go on then … The boss (still in today but still ill, darnit!) was duly impressed with our dedication to our roles. Naturally. Well, I told him it was transformational networking and the University could only benefit from our increased happiness levels. Hmm, not sure that one will work again …
Oh and one of Ruth's old friends turned up for a chat and then announced she was ill too. Damn it, people, I am doomed, I tell you - doomed ... Somebody send me a mask to live in for the next week and I may just survive till launch day ... Lord, I hope so!
This lunchtime, I’ve got the University Writers Group, so I’m hoping people turn up with stuff to look at. I’m kind of winging it in the games area today, but I do have cut-out words for them to choose and take back for homework. So I feel I’ve achieved something. Possibly. UPDATE: actually, it went quite well and we even had one or two more new faces, so that’s looking positive. Hurrah!
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers – it’ll be nice to see what everyone else is doing as I haven’t been able to go for a while. Goodness me, what a literary day I’m having. I’ve even got something to take along, in spite of being neck-deep in my editing project. It’s the start of a short story about how to eat fruit and a strange man called Jacob. At least that’s what I think it is – I’ll have to see. It's something I started in the lunchtime group anyway, so it’s nice that occasionally the two things link up. Also it feels quite liberating even to be thinking about a short story and doing it just for fun too – it’s a long time since I’ve done either of those. Hmm, food for thought, maybe?
Today’s nice things:
1. The big tidy
2. Army commissions
3. Writers groups
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Papers, Books and Writers
This morning, I am inundated with paperwork. Hmm, the academic staff must be back then. And raring to go, darn it. Anyway, I have now printed out everything there is to print in the entire universe ready for Monday’s meeting, with the knowledge that at least three people are taking it to the wire (as it were) in terms of tomorrow’s deadline. Which – for once – is completely and utterly unmovable. Mainly because I won’t be here to do any further photocopying on Thursday and Friday, hurrah! Honestly, I think I am actually engaged to the photocopying machine, and hope to set a date shortly.
Ooh, and talking about marriage, the vicar that married Lord H and me (no, he wasn't bribed, before you ask!) has asked for a copy of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice so I am sending him one. Goodness alone knows what he’s going to think, poor man, as he’s such a sweetie. Hope it doesn’t send him over the edge into the great beyond, but if I don’t get our Christmas card and annual note next year I shall know the reason why …
Walked into town at lunchtime – mainly in order to pay in said vicar’s cheque, but also to get some exercise and some fresh (if chilly) air. Oh, and I’ve finally written my first poem of 2008 – an attempt at a cautionary tale for the next Writing Magazine competition. Not entirely sure about my rhyming scheme, but heck I did my best. I’m surprised I can function at all in view of the brickbats coming at me from all “official” directions, m’dears! And, with that in mind, a huge thank you for all the messages of support coming my way also – all very much appreciated. Give yourselves a very big pat on the back indeed. Plus a group hug!
I’ve spent a large part of this afternoon dealing with student queries, so have got loads of information to tell them, but can’t get hold of them to do so. Ah well. So near and yet so far! Ooh, and I’ve sold another copy of Champers plus one of A Dangerous Man, hurrah! Not only that but Sean from Flame Books tells me that last quarter I sold a grand total of 13 copies. May not sound much to you, good people, but hey it's one more than the quarter before! Still nowhere near getting any royalties though. Michael - he's such a chancer ... Oh, and I’ve been asked to write a short article on last year’s AUA conference by our local Rep for the University. Yikes! Maybe I should have a man coming through the door with a gun at the plenary session? That would have ’em rolling in the aisles …
And, hot off the press, I gather that the generous-hearted Tony at MySpace has also just ordered a copy of Champers from Goldenford. Gosh, thanks, Tony - you are an officer and a gentleman. Uncle John is already opening a bottle to drink your good health.
I've also just finished reading Reginald Hill's The Death of Dalziel. What can I say? Another Hill winner. I do so love that series and am even now salivating for the next one. It might have - for me - become a tiny bit too convoluted at the end, but as I read it mainly for the wonderful characters, it didn't bother me. I also suspect it was just my simple head, ho ho. Hill is, after all, a master plotter.
Tonight, I’m off to Guildford Writers and will be taking the next section of my skit novel. Well, you’ve got to have a laugh somewhere along the line, eh!
Today’s nice things:
1. Finding a way through the mound of papers on my desk – I think I can see the light, Carruthers!
2. Selling some books – hurrah!
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's zappy new website!
Goldenford Publishers
Ooh, and talking about marriage, the vicar that married Lord H and me (no, he wasn't bribed, before you ask!) has asked for a copy of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice so I am sending him one. Goodness alone knows what he’s going to think, poor man, as he’s such a sweetie. Hope it doesn’t send him over the edge into the great beyond, but if I don’t get our Christmas card and annual note next year I shall know the reason why …
Walked into town at lunchtime – mainly in order to pay in said vicar’s cheque, but also to get some exercise and some fresh (if chilly) air. Oh, and I’ve finally written my first poem of 2008 – an attempt at a cautionary tale for the next Writing Magazine competition. Not entirely sure about my rhyming scheme, but heck I did my best. I’m surprised I can function at all in view of the brickbats coming at me from all “official” directions, m’dears! And, with that in mind, a huge thank you for all the messages of support coming my way also – all very much appreciated. Give yourselves a very big pat on the back indeed. Plus a group hug!
I’ve spent a large part of this afternoon dealing with student queries, so have got loads of information to tell them, but can’t get hold of them to do so. Ah well. So near and yet so far! Ooh, and I’ve sold another copy of Champers plus one of A Dangerous Man, hurrah! Not only that but Sean from Flame Books tells me that last quarter I sold a grand total of 13 copies. May not sound much to you, good people, but hey it's one more than the quarter before! Still nowhere near getting any royalties though. Michael - he's such a chancer ... Oh, and I’ve been asked to write a short article on last year’s AUA conference by our local Rep for the University. Yikes! Maybe I should have a man coming through the door with a gun at the plenary session? That would have ’em rolling in the aisles …
And, hot off the press, I gather that the generous-hearted Tony at MySpace has also just ordered a copy of Champers from Goldenford. Gosh, thanks, Tony - you are an officer and a gentleman. Uncle John is already opening a bottle to drink your good health.
I've also just finished reading Reginald Hill's The Death of Dalziel. What can I say? Another Hill winner. I do so love that series and am even now salivating for the next one. It might have - for me - become a tiny bit too convoluted at the end, but as I read it mainly for the wonderful characters, it didn't bother me. I also suspect it was just my simple head, ho ho. Hill is, after all, a master plotter.
Tonight, I’m off to Guildford Writers and will be taking the next section of my skit novel. Well, you’ve got to have a laugh somewhere along the line, eh!
Today’s nice things:
1. Finding a way through the mound of papers on my desk – I think I can see the light, Carruthers!
2. Selling some books – hurrah!
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's zappy new website!
Goldenford Publishers
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Inner bitches, writers’ errors and a little bit of dancing
Dark rain clouds over the south today, m’dears. Plus lots of rain. Darnit. And I’ve planned to walk into town at lunch today to get a few bits and pieces, so I’d better dress up warm and not forget the brolly. UPDATE: actually it wasn’t raining and I had a nice, if brief, chat with one of the old Guildford Writers bunch whom I hadn’t seen for a long time. So that was great. I also bought the “Getting in Touch with your Inner Bitch” block calendar, as I thought the office would appreciate it. I was right … I particularly like the look of the “Niceness Detox Tips”, one of which is: Start a revolution in your life. Say “I don’t think so” at least once today. Fabulous! I hope to put it all into practice next year.
Ooh and the big shock of the day is that I’ve discovered that the last line of my Maloney’s Law blurb is almost exactly the same as the last line in my Thorn in the Flesh blurb. Arrggghh!!! I am now wearing a Writers’ Dunce hat as punishment but am too humiliated to provide pictures. The one good thing that can be said is that at least it shows that – even if I don’t stick to the same genre – my themes are similar. Ho ho. Which is surely one in the eye for all those publishers who object to my lack of predictability – hey there, I am predictable after all!! In the meantime, I have changed the last half line of my Thorn blurb so the glaring error is less glaringly obvious. It now reads:
“Can she overcome the demons of her own personal history before time runs out?”
Whereas before it was: “Can she overcome the demons of her own personal history and protect those she loves before it’s too late?” Way too similar to Maloney indeed!... Ye gods, I am starting to plagiarise myself. Should I sue?
Anyway, I shall run it by the Goldenford Girls to see if they’re happy. There’s still time, thank goodness. And all this existential angst of course assumes that the same set of people might read both – well, you never know …
In the meantime, the mystery of the strange outside table continues to puzzle us. This table which has been on the courtyard/walkway outside our office window for a few weeks has now been joined by a chair. Perhaps it is indeed one of the new faculty offices who simply can’t afford a roof? We’re thinking of placing one of our old phones on it and seeing if anyone makes a call. We could also make it pretty and put a plant on it – well we don’t want the poor hard-done-by admin bod to feel unloved.
Tonight, I’m off to Scottish country dancing – I’m hoping I can pick up on whatever I missed last week without too much embarrassment and confusion as I was too busy editing for Britain to go then. It’ll probably do me good – even I can tell I’m getting way too twitchy and anxious about stuff. I was panicking this morning before work about double the items I usually panic about: the iron, the hairdryer, the heater, the oven, the kettle, the computers: are they all off? To this obsessional list, I also added checking the book covers, checking the blurbs, worrying about not writing enough and staring at the computer screen whilst hyperventilating until my eyes imploded etc etc. I also did all of this twice, just in case I hadn’t panicked to the appropriate level of mania. I seriously need to reeeelaaaaxxxx. Maybe it’s time for a calming pill.
And later I’ll be glued to “Heroes”. How will it all end? It won’t be the same without my weekly dose of Hiro.
Today’s nice things:
1. The walk into town
2. Dancing
3. Heroes.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Ooh and the big shock of the day is that I’ve discovered that the last line of my Maloney’s Law blurb is almost exactly the same as the last line in my Thorn in the Flesh blurb. Arrggghh!!! I am now wearing a Writers’ Dunce hat as punishment but am too humiliated to provide pictures. The one good thing that can be said is that at least it shows that – even if I don’t stick to the same genre – my themes are similar. Ho ho. Which is surely one in the eye for all those publishers who object to my lack of predictability – hey there, I am predictable after all!! In the meantime, I have changed the last half line of my Thorn blurb so the glaring error is less glaringly obvious. It now reads:
“Can she overcome the demons of her own personal history before time runs out?”
Whereas before it was: “Can she overcome the demons of her own personal history and protect those she loves before it’s too late?” Way too similar to Maloney indeed!... Ye gods, I am starting to plagiarise myself. Should I sue?
Anyway, I shall run it by the Goldenford Girls to see if they’re happy. There’s still time, thank goodness. And all this existential angst of course assumes that the same set of people might read both – well, you never know …
In the meantime, the mystery of the strange outside table continues to puzzle us. This table which has been on the courtyard/walkway outside our office window for a few weeks has now been joined by a chair. Perhaps it is indeed one of the new faculty offices who simply can’t afford a roof? We’re thinking of placing one of our old phones on it and seeing if anyone makes a call. We could also make it pretty and put a plant on it – well we don’t want the poor hard-done-by admin bod to feel unloved.
Tonight, I’m off to Scottish country dancing – I’m hoping I can pick up on whatever I missed last week without too much embarrassment and confusion as I was too busy editing for Britain to go then. It’ll probably do me good – even I can tell I’m getting way too twitchy and anxious about stuff. I was panicking this morning before work about double the items I usually panic about: the iron, the hairdryer, the heater, the oven, the kettle, the computers: are they all off? To this obsessional list, I also added checking the book covers, checking the blurbs, worrying about not writing enough and staring at the computer screen whilst hyperventilating until my eyes imploded etc etc. I also did all of this twice, just in case I hadn’t panicked to the appropriate level of mania. I seriously need to reeeelaaaaxxxx. Maybe it’s time for a calming pill.
And later I’ll be glued to “Heroes”. How will it all end? It won’t be the same without my weekly dose of Hiro.
Today’s nice things:
1. The walk into town
2. Dancing
3. Heroes.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Halfway through the Thorn and some hospital visiting
Have spent the whole day knee-deep - no, neck-deep - in Thorn in the Flesh, and I'm now halfway through the final read-through. Phew! I'm hoping I'll be able to get it to Goldenford by the end of the week, but it depends on a variety of factors. Not the least being that my two days off from the University is now over, and alas I have to go to work for the next three days as of tomorrow. Groan.
I was also going to try to fit in some golf today, but cancelled it as a friend of mine from work (or rather ex-work - as she's retired now) is unfortunately in Intensive Care at the local hospital with double pneumonia. A horrible shock to us all. So Ruth, Sally and I went en-masse to pay her a brief visit. We took it in turns, as they only allow two people at the bed at any one time, and talked as much as we could, though it's difficult when someone's unconscious. I know it's what you should do, as you never know what people can hear, but it's not particularly easy. Especially when you don't know someone that well. I hope we did our best - Sally thought there was more colour in her cheeks when we left, but my theory is that was because she was trying to get a word in edgeways during my manic monologue. She was probably saying: for God's sake, Anne, bugger off and let me sleep. Hell, it's understandable. I can't say I blame her. Anyway, the hospital are hoping that she'll be breathing independently in three or four weeks or so. We can only hope.
The three of us - rejoicing in our new official title of The Three Witches - then had a quick cup of coffee in the hospital canteen before the other two went back to work, and I returned to Thorn.
Tonight, I'll be out at Guildford Writers, but I'm planning to leave early, as I didn't get much sleep last night (I never do when I'm editing), and I need to be awake for tomorrow's tranche of meetings.
Today's nice things:
1. Trogging on with Thorn
2. Chatting to Ruth and Sally, even in difficult circumstances
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
I was also going to try to fit in some golf today, but cancelled it as a friend of mine from work (or rather ex-work - as she's retired now) is unfortunately in Intensive Care at the local hospital with double pneumonia. A horrible shock to us all. So Ruth, Sally and I went en-masse to pay her a brief visit. We took it in turns, as they only allow two people at the bed at any one time, and talked as much as we could, though it's difficult when someone's unconscious. I know it's what you should do, as you never know what people can hear, but it's not particularly easy. Especially when you don't know someone that well. I hope we did our best - Sally thought there was more colour in her cheeks when we left, but my theory is that was because she was trying to get a word in edgeways during my manic monologue. She was probably saying: for God's sake, Anne, bugger off and let me sleep. Hell, it's understandable. I can't say I blame her. Anyway, the hospital are hoping that she'll be breathing independently in three or four weeks or so. We can only hope.
The three of us - rejoicing in our new official title of The Three Witches - then had a quick cup of coffee in the hospital canteen before the other two went back to work, and I returned to Thorn.
Tonight, I'll be out at Guildford Writers, but I'm planning to leave early, as I didn't get much sleep last night (I never do when I'm editing), and I need to be awake for tomorrow's tranche of meetings.
Today's nice things:
1. Trogging on with Thorn
2. Chatting to Ruth and Sally, even in difficult circumstances
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Meetings, doctors and writers
Rushed around this morning sorting out papers for meetings and changing agendas until my brain imploded. Mental note to self: it is a bad thing to arrange two very similar meetings within two days of each other, particularly with the same Chair. I am guaranteed in such circumstances to get the wrong papers in the wrong meeting or worse – have two lunches turn up on one day and none on the other. Sigh. I can see I’m going to have to stock up with my Rescue Remedy spray for the end of November, not to mention Quiet Life pills.
I’ve also had my follow up appointment with the Hormone Guru at the Surrey Park Clinic to get my test results. Another sigh. There’s good news and bad news. Isn’t there always?? The good news is that she thinks she can sort out my insulin problem just by diet and exercise, rather than going on the scary insulin pills. Alas, this means going easy on cakes, biscuits and chocolate, and developing my relationship with lean meats, fruit and vegetables. But at least I’m allowed to drink 1 or 2 glasses of wine a week, rather than completely abandoning the vine, hurrah! Which, I suppose, means I can at last make use of the wine bottle stoppers my mother has bought me virtually every Christmas since I got married. Goodness, she will be pleased. We have acres of them.
The bad news is that my oestrogen levels are apparently so appallingly low for my age that I might as well grab myself a penis, strap it on and start subscribing to Motor Monthly. Well, that’s not quite how the doctor put it, but you know what I mean. Anyway the upshot is I am going on my own tailored HRT programme (not, sadly, the one that makes me into a Class One Bitch who salivates over younger men – what do you mean: what’s the difference then??) which will consist of rubbing oestrogen gel into my legs each morning and in the evening too if I feel the need. My, Lord H will be so pleased.
However, apparently, if I get my hormones sorted out (dahlings, a wide variety of experts have tried for years to no avail thus far, but at least the Hormone Guru seems to be more on the ball, as it were … which just goes to show if you want a problem at least acknowledged, sod the NHS and go private instead), it might mean that the insulin issues improve a little too. Who knows: in a year’s time, I may well be running for Miss World 2008. Or possibly Miss Knackered Woman 1960s. One of the two. Watch this space, eh …
Anyway, enough of the health-related gnashing of teeth and virtual wailing – though I would advise against asking me how I am if you see me in the street over the next couple of weeks or so – you may well be given more information than you really want …! Tonight, I’m planning to take the next section of my anti-novel to Guildford Writers and attempt to make sensible comments on everyone else’s work. Though whether I actually get there or not will depend on how I’m feeling after today’s ups and downs (Update: hell, I'm staying in). Ridiculously, I do feel more fragile about the whole thing than I expected to. Wish I’d ruddy well gone private ten years ago. Dammit. And hey ho.
Back in my other life, I’ve got the edits back for Thorn in the Flesh from Jackie so I’m looking forward to getting on with those. Funny how we both finished the edits of each other’s book on the same day – spooky, eh … I do feel that an Addie (from Jackie’s Tainted Tree) and Kate (from Thorn) sequel is surely in the offing at some stage – after all, Addie lives in Guildford and Kate in Godalming, and they both love the theatre – how could they not meet?!?
And here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction 2 Group challenge for this week, which is on the theme: Playing with fire:
Playing with fire
‘So,’ Anita said, putting down the Dove Body Firming Gel she’d been using on her thighs for the last two weeks. ‘Do you think my legs are better or worse? With this new gel, I mean?’
Douglas paused in the act of buttoning his shirt. Always the same question and in twenty years of married life it had been impossible to answer. At least with yes or no. This time, it was going to be different.
He smiled, knowing he was playing with fire, and opened his mouth.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting my upcoming meetings under control
2. Getting to the truth – slowly – about the hormone stuff
3. Getting to the end of the day – soon, please God!
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford books!
I’ve also had my follow up appointment with the Hormone Guru at the Surrey Park Clinic to get my test results. Another sigh. There’s good news and bad news. Isn’t there always?? The good news is that she thinks she can sort out my insulin problem just by diet and exercise, rather than going on the scary insulin pills. Alas, this means going easy on cakes, biscuits and chocolate, and developing my relationship with lean meats, fruit and vegetables. But at least I’m allowed to drink 1 or 2 glasses of wine a week, rather than completely abandoning the vine, hurrah! Which, I suppose, means I can at last make use of the wine bottle stoppers my mother has bought me virtually every Christmas since I got married. Goodness, she will be pleased. We have acres of them.
The bad news is that my oestrogen levels are apparently so appallingly low for my age that I might as well grab myself a penis, strap it on and start subscribing to Motor Monthly. Well, that’s not quite how the doctor put it, but you know what I mean. Anyway the upshot is I am going on my own tailored HRT programme (not, sadly, the one that makes me into a Class One Bitch who salivates over younger men – what do you mean: what’s the difference then??) which will consist of rubbing oestrogen gel into my legs each morning and in the evening too if I feel the need. My, Lord H will be so pleased.
However, apparently, if I get my hormones sorted out (dahlings, a wide variety of experts have tried for years to no avail thus far, but at least the Hormone Guru seems to be more on the ball, as it were … which just goes to show if you want a problem at least acknowledged, sod the NHS and go private instead), it might mean that the insulin issues improve a little too. Who knows: in a year’s time, I may well be running for Miss World 2008. Or possibly Miss Knackered Woman 1960s. One of the two. Watch this space, eh …
Anyway, enough of the health-related gnashing of teeth and virtual wailing – though I would advise against asking me how I am if you see me in the street over the next couple of weeks or so – you may well be given more information than you really want …! Tonight, I’m planning to take the next section of my anti-novel to Guildford Writers and attempt to make sensible comments on everyone else’s work. Though whether I actually get there or not will depend on how I’m feeling after today’s ups and downs (Update: hell, I'm staying in). Ridiculously, I do feel more fragile about the whole thing than I expected to. Wish I’d ruddy well gone private ten years ago. Dammit. And hey ho.
Back in my other life, I’ve got the edits back for Thorn in the Flesh from Jackie so I’m looking forward to getting on with those. Funny how we both finished the edits of each other’s book on the same day – spooky, eh … I do feel that an Addie (from Jackie’s Tainted Tree) and Kate (from Thorn) sequel is surely in the offing at some stage – after all, Addie lives in Guildford and Kate in Godalming, and they both love the theatre – how could they not meet?!?
And here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction 2 Group challenge for this week, which is on the theme: Playing with fire:
Playing with fire
‘So,’ Anita said, putting down the Dove Body Firming Gel she’d been using on her thighs for the last two weeks. ‘Do you think my legs are better or worse? With this new gel, I mean?’
Douglas paused in the act of buttoning his shirt. Always the same question and in twenty years of married life it had been impossible to answer. At least with yes or no. This time, it was going to be different.
He smiled, knowing he was playing with fire, and opened his mouth.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting my upcoming meetings under control
2. Getting to the truth – slowly – about the hormone stuff
3. Getting to the end of the day – soon, please God!
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford books!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Marketing madness and the Scottish country dancing queen
The last of the student care services marketing events in the library today – thank goodness, we cry!... It hasn’t been a roaring success – to put it mildly – and I’ve been really glad to get it over with. Grand total of people who’ve popped into see us over the last three weeks at our display: six. Though to be fair, I did have one email query today as a result of my electronic flyer, which I’ve sent out over the last couple of weeks to try to drum up interest. Unfortunately that student couldn’t come, but at least I could give some virtual advice. The only other response was a lass asking about her library books. Hmm, I suspect I may not entirely have got the message across then, Carruthers … Somebody pass me my rifle and put us all out of our misery …
Apart from marketing traumas, I’m afraid not a lot else has happened in my working day, though I have been attempting to unearth the online annual report from where I must have hidden it. Thank goodness I hadn’t got much of it done, as I feel I might need to redo it next week. Sigh. We’re also having an ongoing discussion in the office over where to put the big map of the UK, which is really too big to be where it’s been for the last year, and which finally fell down this morning. I think it might end up next to my desk – but that’s fine by me as maybe it’ll give me the chance to attempt a stronger link with the outside world, ho ho. Rather than living 99% of my life in the sewage system that constitutes my head. We can but hope, eh.
Tonight, I am strutting my stuff (so that won’t take long then) at the taster session for the Scottish country dancing beginners class. I’m wondering whether or not to wear tartan and carry a sword. Oh, sorry, that’s my usual get-up. So I’d best wear something different. Must admit to being excited as I really love dancing, but distinctly nervous as I really hate meeting new people. Especially new people who’ve already formed their personal groups in the weeks they’ve been doing it before and who will look on me with horror as “a stranger round these parts” when I pop my head round the door. Lordy, but I’m paranoid. But at least I know it.
And I must remember to video “Heroes” just in case I’m not back in time – the class ends at 8.30pm, but Guildford traffic can be wild. I am already traumatised by missing “Oz and James’ Wine Adventure” last night when out at Guildford Writers, but Lord H has nobly downloaded and saved it for me, so all is not lost!
Oh and here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction Group II challenge – which was to come up with something including the line of dialogue I have at the end:
Waiting for the Question
Gerald McFly strode down the High Street wearing his usual placard inscribed with the legend: The end of the world is nigh: please ask for details. He’d been doing this every Saturday morning for the last ten years and it hadn’t ended yet. But he was hopeful. Neither had he ever had anyone approach him. Usually they hid in shops or ran away laughing. He tried not to mind, but he would have liked a friend or, at least, someone who might understand. With a sigh, he kept on striding. Even if nothing ever changed, the cause was all; he must remember that!
Today, much to his surprise, would turn out to be very different indeed.
‘Young man! Young man!’
Gerald turned round to see an old woman hurrying towards him. Her grey hair was tied up into a bun and her plaid skirt was flapping in the breeze. He waited for her to catch up.
‘Young man,’ she said again, eyes blinking rapidly behind enormous spectacles.
‘Yes?’
‘I’d hate to miss Panorama. So can you tell me what time this end of the world might be occurring?’
Gerald smiled his first smile of the day.
‘I’ve always wanted somebody to ask me that,’ he said.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting the last of the wretched marketing events done and dusted, hurrah!
2. Flash fiction
3. Scottish country dancing
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Apart from marketing traumas, I’m afraid not a lot else has happened in my working day, though I have been attempting to unearth the online annual report from where I must have hidden it. Thank goodness I hadn’t got much of it done, as I feel I might need to redo it next week. Sigh. We’re also having an ongoing discussion in the office over where to put the big map of the UK, which is really too big to be where it’s been for the last year, and which finally fell down this morning. I think it might end up next to my desk – but that’s fine by me as maybe it’ll give me the chance to attempt a stronger link with the outside world, ho ho. Rather than living 99% of my life in the sewage system that constitutes my head. We can but hope, eh.
Tonight, I am strutting my stuff (so that won’t take long then) at the taster session for the Scottish country dancing beginners class. I’m wondering whether or not to wear tartan and carry a sword. Oh, sorry, that’s my usual get-up. So I’d best wear something different. Must admit to being excited as I really love dancing, but distinctly nervous as I really hate meeting new people. Especially new people who’ve already formed their personal groups in the weeks they’ve been doing it before and who will look on me with horror as “a stranger round these parts” when I pop my head round the door. Lordy, but I’m paranoid. But at least I know it.
And I must remember to video “Heroes” just in case I’m not back in time – the class ends at 8.30pm, but Guildford traffic can be wild. I am already traumatised by missing “Oz and James’ Wine Adventure” last night when out at Guildford Writers, but Lord H has nobly downloaded and saved it for me, so all is not lost!
Oh and here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction Group II challenge – which was to come up with something including the line of dialogue I have at the end:
Waiting for the Question
Gerald McFly strode down the High Street wearing his usual placard inscribed with the legend: The end of the world is nigh: please ask for details. He’d been doing this every Saturday morning for the last ten years and it hadn’t ended yet. But he was hopeful. Neither had he ever had anyone approach him. Usually they hid in shops or ran away laughing. He tried not to mind, but he would have liked a friend or, at least, someone who might understand. With a sigh, he kept on striding. Even if nothing ever changed, the cause was all; he must remember that!
Today, much to his surprise, would turn out to be very different indeed.
‘Young man! Young man!’
Gerald turned round to see an old woman hurrying towards him. Her grey hair was tied up into a bun and her plaid skirt was flapping in the breeze. He waited for her to catch up.
‘Young man,’ she said again, eyes blinking rapidly behind enormous spectacles.
‘Yes?’
‘I’d hate to miss Panorama. So can you tell me what time this end of the world might be occurring?’
Gerald smiled his first smile of the day.
‘I’ve always wanted somebody to ask me that,’ he said.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting the last of the wretched marketing events done and dusted, hurrah!
2. Flash fiction
3. Scottish country dancing
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Minutes, doctors and writers
Phew! At last, I’ve got those dang Student Induction minutes done. And sent to the Chair to correct before I send out to the usual suspects. Which he usually takes a while over as he’s so busy elsewhere, but today he read them straight off and sent me a charming little note making only two small changes and commenting; “Excellent minutes from a rather unstructured meeting”. So that’s certainly made my day. Shame I’ve already had (and survived – another phew …) my review, eh.
This lunchtime, I finally made it to my Hormone Guru appointment at Surrey Park Clinic. And what an utterly charming, lovely and helpful woman she is – so different from my own (horrible) doctor. We had a fantastic in-depth chat, and she thinks I might be insulin resistant, which explains the messed-up hormones, the rollercoaster ride through a normal month and the bouts of depression. Apparently. And is also one of the joys one can expect if you come from a family riddled with diabetes and bowel cancer. Well, never say life isn’t exciting here in downtown Godalming!
Anyway, I’ve had my tests now and am going back to talk about the results in two weeks’ time so we’ll see what the game plan is after that. I fear though that my alcohol consumption is about to be kicked into touch, as she was super-keen that I go easy on it if she’s right about the insulin thing. Ah well. Best stock up on fruit juices and water then! But seriously, if the good Doctor B can sort me out, then quite honestly I’m prepared to do what it takes. We’ll see anyway!
Back at work, we’ve been discussing the possibility of putting on a Student Care Services Christmas quiz – I am cautiously enthusiastic (if such a state is possible …) as I seriously don’t want to get heavily involved in organising it. The last time I expressed enthusiasm for a work quiz was at my last job and then I appeared to be stuck with organising the darn thing for three years. And each year it grew ever more complicated. I swear I only left because I couldn’t bear the thought of another year’s quiz planning schedules.
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers so I shall go along and take the next bit of waffle I’ve produced for my skit novel. That is, Page Two. Um, it ain’t happening fast, that one! I’m not sure I’m getting anywhere with it either, really, but I’m hoping some kind of anti-plot will come to light soon. You never know.
And I've just finised reading Lewis Grassic Gibbon's trilogy, A Scots Quair (which is comprised of Sunset Song, Cloud Howe and Grey Granite). It's a lyrical and difficult read (all that Scots language ...) but with some amazing passages, brilliant endings and a wonderful main character. Sunset Song is the best, for sure, but they're all worth a read. But you'll need to put serious time aside to get the best from it.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting a nice comment back about the minutes
2. Meeting the lovely Doctor B, and being listened to seriously (such a rare joy!)
3. Guildford Writers
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
This lunchtime, I finally made it to my Hormone Guru appointment at Surrey Park Clinic. And what an utterly charming, lovely and helpful woman she is – so different from my own (horrible) doctor. We had a fantastic in-depth chat, and she thinks I might be insulin resistant, which explains the messed-up hormones, the rollercoaster ride through a normal month and the bouts of depression. Apparently. And is also one of the joys one can expect if you come from a family riddled with diabetes and bowel cancer. Well, never say life isn’t exciting here in downtown Godalming!
Anyway, I’ve had my tests now and am going back to talk about the results in two weeks’ time so we’ll see what the game plan is after that. I fear though that my alcohol consumption is about to be kicked into touch, as she was super-keen that I go easy on it if she’s right about the insulin thing. Ah well. Best stock up on fruit juices and water then! But seriously, if the good Doctor B can sort me out, then quite honestly I’m prepared to do what it takes. We’ll see anyway!
Back at work, we’ve been discussing the possibility of putting on a Student Care Services Christmas quiz – I am cautiously enthusiastic (if such a state is possible …) as I seriously don’t want to get heavily involved in organising it. The last time I expressed enthusiasm for a work quiz was at my last job and then I appeared to be stuck with organising the darn thing for three years. And each year it grew ever more complicated. I swear I only left because I couldn’t bear the thought of another year’s quiz planning schedules.
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers so I shall go along and take the next bit of waffle I’ve produced for my skit novel. That is, Page Two. Um, it ain’t happening fast, that one! I’m not sure I’m getting anywhere with it either, really, but I’m hoping some kind of anti-plot will come to light soon. You never know.
And I've just finised reading Lewis Grassic Gibbon's trilogy, A Scots Quair (which is comprised of Sunset Song, Cloud Howe and Grey Granite). It's a lyrical and difficult read (all that Scots language ...) but with some amazing passages, brilliant endings and a wonderful main character. Sunset Song is the best, for sure, but they're all worth a read. But you'll need to put serious time aside to get the best from it.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting a nice comment back about the minutes
2. Meeting the lovely Doctor B, and being listened to seriously (such a rare joy!)
3. Guildford Writers
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Praise pods and the little people
Was much struck by a discussion on Radio Four yesterday about the use of "praise pods" in schools. Apparently, some schools have started setting aside an area with a comfy chair and a teacher in it, and every time a child does something well or is particularly good, they're sent to the praise pod, made to sit in the chair and told how wonderful they are and what a good job they're doing. No doubt you will all laugh but it sounds like bliss to me! And it's proving so popular and reducing stress in the children so much that other schools are taking up the idea too. Now if only adults could have such a room, I'm sure it would really improve morale in the working day - we're people too, you know! There's only so much of the bad stuff a girl can take!
Talking of which, today's been fairly crap really. And not only for me. Poor Ruth had to do battle with the printing office and with finance (never a pleasant combination at the best of times ...) and Andrea was deluged by students arriving to complain bitterly and at great length. Twice. And different students too. Honestly, it all got so depressing and difficult that we actually got quite hysterical - though luckily we managed to contain ourselves until after the students in question had left. They've all gone? - high five and hope for sunnier days ahead!... Oh how I long for the soap to come out: Care: the TV series. On second thoughts, no-one would believe it.
Meanwhile, I've struggled to deal with one of my difficult colleagues today, but managed to remain relatively calm (hurrah!) in spite of the fact that he tried to lay all sorts of complaints at my door which - for once - are not my remit. Double hurrah and somebody pass the chocolate! Mind you, I was quite snippety with him, but at least he got the message.
So, by the time I came to chairing the University Writers' Group, I was so jazzed up and stressed, it was hard even to think. Let alone be coherent (honestly, when stressed, I find the ability to string two words together, let alone a whole sentence, is virtually non-existent). I think I managed to struggle through it okay, though have to say it was hard. Added to which, fewer people are coming along to the meetings these days - whether that's due to the restructuring or my appalling chairing abilities, who can say? - so I'm beginning to wonder whether I should call a halt to the whole thing after Christmas. I know the one or two people who still turn up seem to enjoy it - I hope. Ah well. We'll see.
I then dragged myself through the afternoon - a process much like dragging myself across a potential war zone, but quieter - which included starting my minutes from yesterday, plus minuting the Nursery Management Group (which at least has external people in it so they're lovely and normal), sorting out the staffing of tomorrow's care services event, organising publicity and feedback materials for the same, keeping my eyes open, staring at the clock and desperately longing for home, and plastering an attempt at a calm, professional smile across my face if anyone strayed within a one metre radius of my desk. Somebody have the ruddy praise pod delivered,please, and make it quick!
Tonight, I was supposed to be going to Guildford Writers but I don't have the emotional energy for any more people and I am staying most distinctly indoors. Mind you, neither do I have anything to read out, what with one thing and another. Here, back in home.com, I am planning an evening where I lie gibbering like a loon across the floor and wait for the Great White Hunter, while Lord H acts as my own personal marital praise pod (that's lovely, darling; yes, you're doing fine, now take a little more soup, what a clever girl! ...) and mops my fevered brow. And, hell, but I must do some ironing.
Today's nice things:
1. Thinking about praise pods
2. Having a normal conversation with non-university people
3. Lord H.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Talking of which, today's been fairly crap really. And not only for me. Poor Ruth had to do battle with the printing office and with finance (never a pleasant combination at the best of times ...) and Andrea was deluged by students arriving to complain bitterly and at great length. Twice. And different students too. Honestly, it all got so depressing and difficult that we actually got quite hysterical - though luckily we managed to contain ourselves until after the students in question had left. They've all gone? - high five and hope for sunnier days ahead!... Oh how I long for the soap to come out: Care: the TV series. On second thoughts, no-one would believe it.
Meanwhile, I've struggled to deal with one of my difficult colleagues today, but managed to remain relatively calm (hurrah!) in spite of the fact that he tried to lay all sorts of complaints at my door which - for once - are not my remit. Double hurrah and somebody pass the chocolate! Mind you, I was quite snippety with him, but at least he got the message.
So, by the time I came to chairing the University Writers' Group, I was so jazzed up and stressed, it was hard even to think. Let alone be coherent (honestly, when stressed, I find the ability to string two words together, let alone a whole sentence, is virtually non-existent). I think I managed to struggle through it okay, though have to say it was hard. Added to which, fewer people are coming along to the meetings these days - whether that's due to the restructuring or my appalling chairing abilities, who can say? - so I'm beginning to wonder whether I should call a halt to the whole thing after Christmas. I know the one or two people who still turn up seem to enjoy it - I hope. Ah well. We'll see.
I then dragged myself through the afternoon - a process much like dragging myself across a potential war zone, but quieter - which included starting my minutes from yesterday, plus minuting the Nursery Management Group (which at least has external people in it so they're lovely and normal), sorting out the staffing of tomorrow's care services event, organising publicity and feedback materials for the same, keeping my eyes open, staring at the clock and desperately longing for home, and plastering an attempt at a calm, professional smile across my face if anyone strayed within a one metre radius of my desk. Somebody have the ruddy praise pod delivered,please, and make it quick!
Tonight, I was supposed to be going to Guildford Writers but I don't have the emotional energy for any more people and I am staying most distinctly indoors. Mind you, neither do I have anything to read out, what with one thing and another. Here, back in home.com, I am planning an evening where I lie gibbering like a loon across the floor and wait for the Great White Hunter, while Lord H acts as my own personal marital praise pod (that's lovely, darling; yes, you're doing fine, now take a little more soup, what a clever girl! ...) and mops my fevered brow. And, hell, but I must do some ironing.
Today's nice things:
1. Thinking about praise pods
2. Having a normal conversation with non-university people
3. Lord H.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Aroma Stones and Guildford Writers
Feeling a bit empty today – I am obviously having a blank week. Possibly the effect of too many calming pills, but I have to say it’s not unpleasant. Better than feeling angry all the time for sure. Or maybe it’s the weather – it’s very dull and damp out there.
Lots of bits and pieces at work today – fiddled around with the Dean’s website, a couple of new marketing leaflets, plus chased up the boss about outstanding minutes/agendas before I go on holiday and took a load of the never-ending paper cups to the Health Centre. Who are also in a drinking crisis. Ooh, and I remembered to give the boss my review form too. The annual nightmare! We actually have the review meeting the first day I get back – not great timing for sure! However, I’ve made myself feel better by booking an hour’s Aroma Stone Therapy treatment at the hotel we’re staying in next week. Hurrah!
Took my usual lunchtime stroll round campus – the lake seems overrun by moorhens today. Perhaps they’re taking over the world? Hmm, good luck to them. I’m not sure it’s a competition I really want to enter. And this afternoon has been wild – rushing around attempting to do yet more urgent last-minute marketing things we didn’t know we needed till today. Stress! Still, at least it’s been fun playing around with flyers and looking like I know what I’m doing. Ho ho.
Tonight, I’m out at Guildford Writers – I’ve decided to stop taking along The Bones of Summer now and am taking the first page of my fun spoof novel instead. Well, Bones is fairly well launched into its orbit (I hope), and I tend to rely on more regular input from my Writewords Novel Group for it. And the spoof novel will probably be easier to provide instant crit for – as even I know my usual stuff is quite bizarre and difficult. Anyway, we’ll see.
Today’s nice things:
1. Calming pills
2. Lunchtime stroll
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Lots of bits and pieces at work today – fiddled around with the Dean’s website, a couple of new marketing leaflets, plus chased up the boss about outstanding minutes/agendas before I go on holiday and took a load of the never-ending paper cups to the Health Centre. Who are also in a drinking crisis. Ooh, and I remembered to give the boss my review form too. The annual nightmare! We actually have the review meeting the first day I get back – not great timing for sure! However, I’ve made myself feel better by booking an hour’s Aroma Stone Therapy treatment at the hotel we’re staying in next week. Hurrah!
Took my usual lunchtime stroll round campus – the lake seems overrun by moorhens today. Perhaps they’re taking over the world? Hmm, good luck to them. I’m not sure it’s a competition I really want to enter. And this afternoon has been wild – rushing around attempting to do yet more urgent last-minute marketing things we didn’t know we needed till today. Stress! Still, at least it’s been fun playing around with flyers and looking like I know what I’m doing. Ho ho.
Tonight, I’m out at Guildford Writers – I’ve decided to stop taking along The Bones of Summer now and am taking the first page of my fun spoof novel instead. Well, Bones is fairly well launched into its orbit (I hope), and I tend to rely on more regular input from my Writewords Novel Group for it. And the spoof novel will probably be easier to provide instant crit for – as even I know my usual stuff is quite bizarre and difficult. Anyway, we’ll see.
Today’s nice things:
1. Calming pills
2. Lunchtime stroll
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The heat is turned up ...
Ye gods, but it’s been a hellish morning. I ran around replacing arrows directing Freshers to places for the second day of multiple registration, discovered that the big chocolate tin in the office was empty when I came back (oh God, empty – how can such things happen???), panicked because we seem to have missed a talk and left students waiting for someone who never turned up, and was given a hugely patronising bollocking (in an irritatingly smarmy way which of course made it ten thousand times worse) by one of my (thank God) more geographically distant colleagues who then decided he hadn’t browbeaten me enough and rang back to make more criticisms. Plus a request to go and get him something from the Health Centre. Which is next door to where he works, and I am near neither of them. Harrumph. I ended up simply putting the phone down on the smarmy bugger and felt a lot better for having done so. Last time I do something nice for him then … And thank the Lord I don't have to speak to the mealy-mouthed b*****d very often.
I then found out that the reason we’d missed the talk is that the department in question had changed all their induction programme plus all their staff and hadn’t told us – which means I’ve been frantically reorganising the talks still to come this week whilst maintaining a plastic professional smile on my face (and mentally stabbing aforementioned so-called "colleague" in places he probably didn’t even know he had …). Oh, and we’re equally frantically trying to find out if we have a stall at tomorrow’s Freshers’ Fayre or not. Anyone we can ask appears to be unobtainable and the porter is supposed to be collecting our stuff this afternoon, but can’t if there’s nowhere to deliver it to. Arrrggghhh!!!
On top of all that, the really lovely man who cleans the computers and phones has turned up so we’re all having to jump around between computers to ensure he gets the chance to clean it all. Poor chap though – he probably hasn’t heard this much swearing and cursing for a long time. The joys of Freshers’ Week, eh … Ooh, update on this: I officially have the cleanest computer & phone equipment in the office. Hurrah! I’ve never had the cleanest anything before – so this is a definite first. And just proves that my obsessive weekly cleaning of my phone & keyboard which everyone laughs at has finally paid off …
And I’ve also found out that Jools from Mighty Erudite hasn’t ever received my mini-edit of Mark Wagstaff’s novel, so I’ll have to try to resend that tonight sometime. I’m also supposed to be going to Guildford Writers tonight, but Lord alone knows whether I’ll have the energy or not. Not is the current feeling on that really. I don’t think I can face any more people, however pleasant. It's just way too demanding.
Still, I did manage to get out for a walk at lunchtime, thank God, and rang Lord H from the bench by the lake to sob for a while. Poor chap – he should be used to that by now.
Oh Lordy, when oh when can I go home???
Today’s nice things:
1. Um. Surviving the day? Possibly.
2. Having the cleanest computer, aha!
3. Ringing Lord H.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
I then found out that the reason we’d missed the talk is that the department in question had changed all their induction programme plus all their staff and hadn’t told us – which means I’ve been frantically reorganising the talks still to come this week whilst maintaining a plastic professional smile on my face (and mentally stabbing aforementioned so-called "colleague" in places he probably didn’t even know he had …). Oh, and we’re equally frantically trying to find out if we have a stall at tomorrow’s Freshers’ Fayre or not. Anyone we can ask appears to be unobtainable and the porter is supposed to be collecting our stuff this afternoon, but can’t if there’s nowhere to deliver it to. Arrrggghhh!!!
On top of all that, the really lovely man who cleans the computers and phones has turned up so we’re all having to jump around between computers to ensure he gets the chance to clean it all. Poor chap though – he probably hasn’t heard this much swearing and cursing for a long time. The joys of Freshers’ Week, eh … Ooh, update on this: I officially have the cleanest computer & phone equipment in the office. Hurrah! I’ve never had the cleanest anything before – so this is a definite first. And just proves that my obsessive weekly cleaning of my phone & keyboard which everyone laughs at has finally paid off …
And I’ve also found out that Jools from Mighty Erudite hasn’t ever received my mini-edit of Mark Wagstaff’s novel, so I’ll have to try to resend that tonight sometime. I’m also supposed to be going to Guildford Writers tonight, but Lord alone knows whether I’ll have the energy or not. Not is the current feeling on that really. I don’t think I can face any more people, however pleasant. It's just way too demanding.
Still, I did manage to get out for a walk at lunchtime, thank God, and rang Lord H from the bench by the lake to sob for a while. Poor chap – he should be used to that by now.
Oh Lordy, when oh when can I go home???
Today’s nice things:
1. Um. Surviving the day? Possibly.
2. Having the cleanest computer, aha!
3. Ringing Lord H.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Lunch with Julia and Guildford Writers
Had something of a nostalgia session last night when I got out my hats (well, all three of them) to see which one I’m going to wear for Carol’s wedding on Saturday. The choice is the wide-brimmed blue (which doesn’t fit terribly well), the quirky green (more for the fun occasion) or the smart casual cream with ribbon (ideal wedding get-up, really). Naturally, I went for the latter. I think I’ll wear it with the light green dress and matching jacket. Lord only knows what shoes and handbag I’ll opt for. (Oh heck, am I having a Girly Moment??! Someone pass me the normality pills again …) Equally naturally, the hats are buried in the same place in the flat as our wedding photos, so I was poring over those too and weeping at how young and innocent we once were. Or at least how young and innocent we once looked. Yes, there is a difference. Ah well …
Anyway, great joy at breakfast today, when Lord H and I spotted a wren in the garden. Rushed to get the binoculars in the kitchen (yes, it is fairly sad that we keep them there at the moment but you never know when you might catch a glimpse of a bird you just have to have a closer look at …) and, yes, there it was – small brown job with a sticky-up tail. Wonderful! And while I’m on the subject of binoculars, we’ve discovered a fantastic aid to marital harmony with them (no, people – you have very peculiar minds, honestly!...) – if you turn them the wrong way round and look at the other person through them, then the whole problem looks so much more distant and manageable. Bliss!
Am thinking of preparing my annual reports for work sometime over the next week or so – to save the mad panic in October and to look super-efficient at the same time. It might help to make a start soon anyway, as I’m hoping to have some time off during October, post the Freshers nightmare, so anything I can do now to ease the pressure then will be a plus point, I’m sure. But first I need to change the Student Advice & Information Service (SAIS) web references to be just Student Advice, as we’ve decided the old name is really too much of a mouthful. Even we have trouble remembering it, let alone the customers! I’m the Web Queen once more then …
Had lunch with Julia from UniSWriters today – very enjoyable, though everyone’s feeling the heat as we approach the end of the restructuring process. It’ll be so much better when the powers that be have sorted themselves out. One hopes.
Oh and here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction II Group. The theme is “On the road again”:
On the road again
That’s it then. Another door shut, with the bloke behind it already lighting a smoke and wishing I was further away than I am. Same old, same old. God knows I try my best but I never stay anywhere long. This time, though, it felt different. Just a little. And I half-think about knocking on the peeling paintwork, waiting for him to open it – if he does – and maybe even asking to talk.
But I don’t. What’s the point? Talking never solved anything. Not for me.
So instead of doing what everyone else might have done, if only in books – instead of that I shoulder my rucksack, twisting the belt around me until it’s tight against my hips, spit once on the line of broken flowerpots and stride down the steps and into the night.
The city is in that empty phase between shedding its daytime office junkies and welcoming the party-goers, the clubbers and the hookers. Around me, with the street lights flickering in the winter dusk, I can feel it drawing breath, waiting for things to turn, waiting for the night to begin.
I pass Tottenham Court tube and head east. Cars crawl by me, buses too, and the fumes and the noise are almost overwhelming. But I pay them no attention. I just keep on walking, elbowing my way through groups of high-heeled girls and boys dressed only in black. The air is rich with sweat and perfume. At times like this, the road becomes once again the only friend I can trust.
Finally, when the crowds begin to thin out, destinations reached or parties given up on, I weave my path away from the main streets and into the city’s darker corners. Here, the smell of urine and Meths takes over from sweat and scent. The change isn’t unwelcome.
When I find a shop doorway, sheltered enough to protect me from any rain, I ease the rucksack off my shoulders, curl myself up next to it and sleep. It’s familiar enough for my sleep to be dreamless. I’m on the road again.
Tonight I’m off to Guildford Writers – drinks afterwards are most definitely on me to celebrate my book deal. Good job I got paid last week then!
Oh and I've just finished Samantha Wynne Rhydderch's poetry collection, Rockclimbing in Silk. Hmm, too many words, m'dear. They were bludgeoning me like stone-age hunters closing in on the prey. So much so that no meaning appeared to be left at all. I can't remember why I decided to buy it, to be frank, and that's a good couple of hours of my life I won't get back. The whole thing has completely exhausted me - so not one I can recommend, I'm afraid.
Today’s nice things:
1. Seeing a wren
2. Lunch with Julia
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
Anyway, great joy at breakfast today, when Lord H and I spotted a wren in the garden. Rushed to get the binoculars in the kitchen (yes, it is fairly sad that we keep them there at the moment but you never know when you might catch a glimpse of a bird you just have to have a closer look at …) and, yes, there it was – small brown job with a sticky-up tail. Wonderful! And while I’m on the subject of binoculars, we’ve discovered a fantastic aid to marital harmony with them (no, people – you have very peculiar minds, honestly!...) – if you turn them the wrong way round and look at the other person through them, then the whole problem looks so much more distant and manageable. Bliss!
Am thinking of preparing my annual reports for work sometime over the next week or so – to save the mad panic in October and to look super-efficient at the same time. It might help to make a start soon anyway, as I’m hoping to have some time off during October, post the Freshers nightmare, so anything I can do now to ease the pressure then will be a plus point, I’m sure. But first I need to change the Student Advice & Information Service (SAIS) web references to be just Student Advice, as we’ve decided the old name is really too much of a mouthful. Even we have trouble remembering it, let alone the customers! I’m the Web Queen once more then …
Had lunch with Julia from UniSWriters today – very enjoyable, though everyone’s feeling the heat as we approach the end of the restructuring process. It’ll be so much better when the powers that be have sorted themselves out. One hopes.
Oh and here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction II Group. The theme is “On the road again”:
On the road again
That’s it then. Another door shut, with the bloke behind it already lighting a smoke and wishing I was further away than I am. Same old, same old. God knows I try my best but I never stay anywhere long. This time, though, it felt different. Just a little. And I half-think about knocking on the peeling paintwork, waiting for him to open it – if he does – and maybe even asking to talk.
But I don’t. What’s the point? Talking never solved anything. Not for me.
So instead of doing what everyone else might have done, if only in books – instead of that I shoulder my rucksack, twisting the belt around me until it’s tight against my hips, spit once on the line of broken flowerpots and stride down the steps and into the night.
The city is in that empty phase between shedding its daytime office junkies and welcoming the party-goers, the clubbers and the hookers. Around me, with the street lights flickering in the winter dusk, I can feel it drawing breath, waiting for things to turn, waiting for the night to begin.
I pass Tottenham Court tube and head east. Cars crawl by me, buses too, and the fumes and the noise are almost overwhelming. But I pay them no attention. I just keep on walking, elbowing my way through groups of high-heeled girls and boys dressed only in black. The air is rich with sweat and perfume. At times like this, the road becomes once again the only friend I can trust.
Finally, when the crowds begin to thin out, destinations reached or parties given up on, I weave my path away from the main streets and into the city’s darker corners. Here, the smell of urine and Meths takes over from sweat and scent. The change isn’t unwelcome.
When I find a shop doorway, sheltered enough to protect me from any rain, I ease the rucksack off my shoulders, curl myself up next to it and sleep. It’s familiar enough for my sleep to be dreamless. I’m on the road again.
Tonight I’m off to Guildford Writers – drinks afterwards are most definitely on me to celebrate my book deal. Good job I got paid last week then!
Oh and I've just finished Samantha Wynne Rhydderch's poetry collection, Rockclimbing in Silk. Hmm, too many words, m'dear. They were bludgeoning me like stone-age hunters closing in on the prey. So much so that no meaning appeared to be left at all. I can't remember why I decided to buy it, to be frank, and that's a good couple of hours of my life I won't get back. The whole thing has completely exhausted me - so not one I can recommend, I'm afraid.
Today’s nice things:
1. Seeing a wren
2. Lunch with Julia
3. Guildford Writers.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Famous Godalming & Scarlet stories
Great excitement last night! Godalming is finally famous, hurrah!! We switched on "Location, Location, Location" on TV (not something we watch often, but it just happened to be on) and there was Godalming - in the screen-flesh! Not only that, but the couple in question were looking at a house virtually opposite our road. I kept waving at the traffic coming out of the junction in the hope that one of them might be us, but it never was. Waving to oneself on TV would have been the ultimate in crazed sadness. I do understand that. The programme also gave some suitable shots of middle-class Surrey enjoying their constitutionals, so it was lovely to scream at places we knew. Gods, but we really have to get out more. Anyway, the upshot was that the couple bought the house, even though she was eight months pregnant and we kept shrieking: don't buy it - that junction is hell, your child will never be able to play in the front garden and you will be doomed forever to a back garden life only! And we should know - that main road is a deathtrap for the unwary visitor. They should have viewed it at 8.30am or between 5pm and 6pm. Both Lord H and I have learnt to press the accelerator down to the floor and cast our fates into the laps of the gods every morning. And that's only turning left. Turning right is an absolute no-hoper! Interestingly, the other couple featured in the programme bought a house in Bournemouth, Lord H's old hunting ground, so things are getting seriously spooky here in the shires ...
This morning, I have shopped in Guildford and bought a new pair of light walking shoes and a day rucksack-type bag. So I'm all prepared for our next spot of bird watching, aha! I just have to get water bottles that will fit the spaces allowed for them in the bag. And I had a counselling session with Kunu - which was quite relaxing actually. We discussed the fact that for the first time ever, I'm beginning to feel that family judgements which have been made against me in the past (and are, I know, still being made) are actually wrong. And there's no need to feel pressurised by them. Hurrah! People in my family live a different way from me, but that's no reason for me to change my views. Or life choices indeed. Quite empowering really. It might (just!) be okay to be me. As it were. And anyone who implies otherwise is likely to find themselves kicked firmly into touch. I mean, bloody hell, I've never told them what to do - so why the hell should they feel it necessary to tell me what to do? I'm done with all that stuff, really I am. I'm me and they frankly will just have to lump it.
Talking of which, Lord H and I visited Mother in hospital this afternoon. She's surprisingly well, and very perky, even though the operation was only on Tuesday. Honestly, keyhole surgery is a marvellous thing. She thinks she might even be out by the weekend, all things being equal, and assuming they don't find anything else (here's hoping not, for the old gal's sake ...). So fingers crossed, eh. We had to do a loo run together, which was something of a laugh, I have to say - I think she was glad I'd turned up, even if only for that purpose. After all, I'm good with old people - I've worked voluntarily in an old people's home and have done visiting for years. Hmm, funny how much more empowered I feel when my mother is safely lying on her sickbed or dependent on me for something. Aha! Crazed Godalming daughter sweeps through Essex, eyes flashing and zimmer frame raised in triumph ...! Kunu did say that might happen though. Wonderful counsellor, that woman.
And I managed to avoid the horrible brothers too - result!
But goodness me, the journey home was hell. The M25 had given up the ghost entirely so we had to use the A25 instead, and it took us nearly 4 hours (4 hours in a journey that only lasts 2!!!) to get home. A journey which included several heart-stopping minutes when we had literally no petrol left (so much so that even Lord H was worried ...) and no sight of a petrol station. I mean, what the hell is it with the A25??? - there's a road that's just crying out for petrol stations, and not a bloody one in sight. We had to leave it in order to find one.
So we're shattered tonight, and I'm about to go to bed. Can't be arsed with TV frankly.
Oh, and Kathy from Guildford Writers has got a wonderful story involving a very hot train journey to Zagreb in this month's (well, August) "Scarlet" magazine - so everyone must rush out and buy it. You'll find it in the deliciously named "Cliterature" section, tee hee! It's seriously hot - so well done, Kathy!
Today's nice things:
1. Seeing Godalming on TV
2. Counselling
3. Mother moments (weirdly).
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
This morning, I have shopped in Guildford and bought a new pair of light walking shoes and a day rucksack-type bag. So I'm all prepared for our next spot of bird watching, aha! I just have to get water bottles that will fit the spaces allowed for them in the bag. And I had a counselling session with Kunu - which was quite relaxing actually. We discussed the fact that for the first time ever, I'm beginning to feel that family judgements which have been made against me in the past (and are, I know, still being made) are actually wrong. And there's no need to feel pressurised by them. Hurrah! People in my family live a different way from me, but that's no reason for me to change my views. Or life choices indeed. Quite empowering really. It might (just!) be okay to be me. As it were. And anyone who implies otherwise is likely to find themselves kicked firmly into touch. I mean, bloody hell, I've never told them what to do - so why the hell should they feel it necessary to tell me what to do? I'm done with all that stuff, really I am. I'm me and they frankly will just have to lump it.
Talking of which, Lord H and I visited Mother in hospital this afternoon. She's surprisingly well, and very perky, even though the operation was only on Tuesday. Honestly, keyhole surgery is a marvellous thing. She thinks she might even be out by the weekend, all things being equal, and assuming they don't find anything else (here's hoping not, for the old gal's sake ...). So fingers crossed, eh. We had to do a loo run together, which was something of a laugh, I have to say - I think she was glad I'd turned up, even if only for that purpose. After all, I'm good with old people - I've worked voluntarily in an old people's home and have done visiting for years. Hmm, funny how much more empowered I feel when my mother is safely lying on her sickbed or dependent on me for something. Aha! Crazed Godalming daughter sweeps through Essex, eyes flashing and zimmer frame raised in triumph ...! Kunu did say that might happen though. Wonderful counsellor, that woman.
And I managed to avoid the horrible brothers too - result!
But goodness me, the journey home was hell. The M25 had given up the ghost entirely so we had to use the A25 instead, and it took us nearly 4 hours (4 hours in a journey that only lasts 2!!!) to get home. A journey which included several heart-stopping minutes when we had literally no petrol left (so much so that even Lord H was worried ...) and no sight of a petrol station. I mean, what the hell is it with the A25??? - there's a road that's just crying out for petrol stations, and not a bloody one in sight. We had to leave it in order to find one.
So we're shattered tonight, and I'm about to go to bed. Can't be arsed with TV frankly.
Oh, and Kathy from Guildford Writers has got a wonderful story involving a very hot train journey to Zagreb in this month's (well, August) "Scarlet" magazine - so everyone must rush out and buy it. You'll find it in the deliciously named "Cliterature" section, tee hee! It's seriously hot - so well done, Kathy!
Today's nice things:
1. Seeing Godalming on TV
2. Counselling
3. Mother moments (weirdly).
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Gay's the Word and Guildford Writers
Jennifer at Goldenford emailed me last night to say that she’d had a discussion with one of the people at Gay’s the Word bookshop in London about A Dangerous Man and Pink Champagne and Apple Juice, and there might be some interest in putting on an event there at some stage. Gosh – well done, Jennifer. And thank you. Honestly, the woman’s like a tidal wave. I’m impressed about the talking up of a book Goldenford didn’t actually publish though! The only thing is that I now have to ring up Jim (the manager) at Gay’s the Word to see what his opinion is. How I hate these marketing calls – I’d much rather do things via email or not at all really. It’s seriously scary. I’ll never sound like a “real” author (whatever one of them is …), no matter how long I live.
UPDATE: Well, I rang the poor chap and burbled on unconvincingly. From the University loos. As you do. The upshot is I’ll send him a copy of A Dangerous Man with information on where he can get it from. And then we can breathe an extremely clichéd sigh of relief and get on with our usual life of Z-list obscurity, tee hee. And not writing. Which seems to be the case these days. Double sigh. Still, to show willing, I’ll pop some details in about Pink Champagne and Apple Juice. You never know your luck, eh …
FURTHER UPDATE: Sean at Flame Books has offered to send a copy of A Dangerous Man to Jim and get in touch with him directly. Gawd bless you, Sean – lovely to get the email. I’m just so used to doing everything myself that sometimes I forget the publisher aspect entirely. It certainly made me feel a little lighter of heart anyway! Ooh, and it must be my day (or possibly Michael’s day) as Sean has also sent out further review/promo copies to other venues (well done, Sean, and thank you) and has negotiated ADM’s availability on Amazon.uk and Amazon.com. Gosh, Michael might be easier to get hold of soon (as it were!), both here and across the water. He’ll enjoy that for sure.
Went for a walk around campus at lunchtime – nice to get out of the office. Without the terror of having to call anyone. Sat by the lake and enjoyed gazing at the ducks, the coots and the moorhens, the latter of which had two chicks. Lovely. The ducks also indulged in a display of simultaneous leg stretching. Very talented birds really. And I’m amazed they could balance on one leg at all.
And it’s Mother’s operation sometime today (they didn’t know if it would be morning or afternoon – that the NHS for you then), so hope all that goes well for her. Interestingly, I did ring the hospital last night to check she’d got in okay, and followed Mother’s instructions to the letter about never (under pain of destruction) referring to the ward manager as “matron” but always asking for the “Ward Co-ordinator” instead. This I duly did. There was a long, blank silence (as silences often are, funnily enough …) followed by a glorious Essex accent asking me if I meant Matron. So much for being modern, eh?
And here’s some flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction II Group – this week’s theme is “obdurate”:
A change is as good …
Forty years she’d been married to him and she’d never known him change his mind. Once he’d made a decision, however small, it was set in stone. It was for this reason that she’d had one child only, that they’d never been abroad, that she didn’t own a colour television and that they’d always lived in Reigate. The morning after the funeral, she sent dating agency details to her son (she’d make do with grandchildren or want to know the reasons why …), booked a holiday in Fuengirola, placed a call to Dixon’s and asked her neighbour what Scotland was like. Well, a change was as good as a rest, they said. And now the old bugger was dead, she intended to find out for herself.
Suspect there might be the beginnings of a very strange novel in there somewhere, but let’s hope it doesn’t surface too soon, eh …
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers, but I’m not taking anything of the novel along, as I’m feeling rather low on the confidence stakes, and don’t feel much up to being brave. Am happy to give reasoned opinions on other people’s work though and maybe take along today's flash fiction piece, so I hope not to be a complete lemon in the meeting. Will also need to go along in order to (a) donate wine bottles to Irene who is making plum wine (sounds like heaven – hope we get a chance to sample some, Irene …) and doesn’t have enough empty bottles to put it in (can’t understand that myself) and (b) give copies of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice to Jennifer and Jackie, both of whom plan to run a Goldenford bookstall at separate locations in the near future.
Today’s nice things:
1. The contact with Gay’s the Word, and Sean’s offer
2. Lunchtime walk
3. Guildford Writers (without the fear of reading!)
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
UPDATE: Well, I rang the poor chap and burbled on unconvincingly. From the University loos. As you do. The upshot is I’ll send him a copy of A Dangerous Man with information on where he can get it from. And then we can breathe an extremely clichéd sigh of relief and get on with our usual life of Z-list obscurity, tee hee. And not writing. Which seems to be the case these days. Double sigh. Still, to show willing, I’ll pop some details in about Pink Champagne and Apple Juice. You never know your luck, eh …
FURTHER UPDATE: Sean at Flame Books has offered to send a copy of A Dangerous Man to Jim and get in touch with him directly. Gawd bless you, Sean – lovely to get the email. I’m just so used to doing everything myself that sometimes I forget the publisher aspect entirely. It certainly made me feel a little lighter of heart anyway! Ooh, and it must be my day (or possibly Michael’s day) as Sean has also sent out further review/promo copies to other venues (well done, Sean, and thank you) and has negotiated ADM’s availability on Amazon.uk and Amazon.com. Gosh, Michael might be easier to get hold of soon (as it were!), both here and across the water. He’ll enjoy that for sure.
Went for a walk around campus at lunchtime – nice to get out of the office. Without the terror of having to call anyone. Sat by the lake and enjoyed gazing at the ducks, the coots and the moorhens, the latter of which had two chicks. Lovely. The ducks also indulged in a display of simultaneous leg stretching. Very talented birds really. And I’m amazed they could balance on one leg at all.
And it’s Mother’s operation sometime today (they didn’t know if it would be morning or afternoon – that the NHS for you then), so hope all that goes well for her. Interestingly, I did ring the hospital last night to check she’d got in okay, and followed Mother’s instructions to the letter about never (under pain of destruction) referring to the ward manager as “matron” but always asking for the “Ward Co-ordinator” instead. This I duly did. There was a long, blank silence (as silences often are, funnily enough …) followed by a glorious Essex accent asking me if I meant Matron. So much for being modern, eh?
And here’s some flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction II Group – this week’s theme is “obdurate”:
A change is as good …
Forty years she’d been married to him and she’d never known him change his mind. Once he’d made a decision, however small, it was set in stone. It was for this reason that she’d had one child only, that they’d never been abroad, that she didn’t own a colour television and that they’d always lived in Reigate. The morning after the funeral, she sent dating agency details to her son (she’d make do with grandchildren or want to know the reasons why …), booked a holiday in Fuengirola, placed a call to Dixon’s and asked her neighbour what Scotland was like. Well, a change was as good as a rest, they said. And now the old bugger was dead, she intended to find out for herself.
Suspect there might be the beginnings of a very strange novel in there somewhere, but let’s hope it doesn’t surface too soon, eh …
Tonight, it’s Guildford Writers, but I’m not taking anything of the novel along, as I’m feeling rather low on the confidence stakes, and don’t feel much up to being brave. Am happy to give reasoned opinions on other people’s work though and maybe take along today's flash fiction piece, so I hope not to be a complete lemon in the meeting. Will also need to go along in order to (a) donate wine bottles to Irene who is making plum wine (sounds like heaven – hope we get a chance to sample some, Irene …) and doesn’t have enough empty bottles to put it in (can’t understand that myself) and (b) give copies of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice to Jennifer and Jackie, both of whom plan to run a Goldenford bookstall at separate locations in the near future.
Today’s nice things:
1. The contact with Gay’s the Word, and Sean’s offer
2. Lunchtime walk
3. Guildford Writers (without the fear of reading!)
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Birds, postmen and Guildford Writers
Forgot to say (or perhaps I’m too ashamed to confess it), but Lord H and I bought a birdsong CD at the end of last week’s holiday, so we could wow our friends with our amazing ability to distinguish a woodpecker from a sparrow. However, there are 99 tracks on it, plus a booklet (which unfortunately doesn’t include pictures of said birds, which might have been more useful), and we’re so far only up to track 12. Well, there’s only so much constant tweeting you can take really. But I do think I have recognised a blackbird since listening to one on the CD. And I now know that if you’re walking in woodland and hear something you haven’t heard before (birdsong, people, birdsong …!), then it’s probably a great tit (as it were), as they have a notes range so vast that no-one can log it all. It also surprised me that birds of the same species can sound so different, as they’re all little individuals. Just like people really. Astonishing. A statement which probably goes to show just how birdist I have been in my life.
This morning, Lord H performed another of his shapeshifting tricks – he left the flat looking entirely like his usual self but, by the time I was waving him off down the path, he’d changed into the postman. Suspicious, eh … I fear the mother-ship may be calling him home. However, fear not as, once the postman had vanished next door, Lord H turned up as himself again, pointing helpfully to his head so I could know it was him. Mornings in downtown Godalming are so exciting, you know.
Oh, and on the radio this morning, I heard a lovely song – “Grace” – by someone called Simon Webbe (whom I’ve never heard of, which probably just goes to show how ignorant I am). Sorry. Anyway, must get the CD sometime – I loved it.
It’s a bit flat at work at the moment. Yesterday’s flurry of activity has obviously stunned all my usual correspondents into silence. I’m waiting on a barrel-load of people to reply to my pleas for attention, but am held in a vacuum until they do. Welcome to the Secretarial World, eh? ’Twas ever thus.
Took my usual stroll round campus at lunchtime, and stopped in at the new exhibition at the art gallery. Sat by the lake for a while too – it’s such a good place to think in (if you get my meaning). Watched the coot (or are they moorhens? Who can tell?…) family – the youngsters were picking grasses from the parent bird, when really they should be old enough to do it themselves by now. Hmm, we obviously have more in common with the bird world than we thought. And there was also a grey squirrel rolling in a soil bath at the bottom of a nearby tree – perhaps we should all do this occasionally? It certainly looked like fun. Oh, and I thought I heard a tweeting from the bush behind me that I’m sure I’ve heard on the birdsong CD– but just couldn’t remember which of the tweeters it might be. Darn it. I think all this nature rambling must be due to age - when I turned 30, I suddenly developed an undying love for Dutch flower paintings (which I'd always hated before) - now I can't get enough of them. Give me a Dutch flower painting - even a postcard will do - and I'm your friend for life. In the same way, I think my 40s will be the decade of the bird. You have been warned ...
On the PR front, the Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) article that appeared in The Guildford Times a couple of weeks ago has also apparently appeared in The Cranleigh Times, so our fame is spreading … Today Cranleigh, tomorrow the world.
Oh, and I’ve written a poem – which is something of a relief as I haven’t written one for a while and was getting twitchy. Again.
Shedding the skin
These days
I want to do less
and my pleasure lies in saying no.
While others fill their days
with lunches, hobbies, evenings out,
an ever-widening circle of friends,
my first and strongest instinct
is to open the closed fist
spread the fingers wide
and simply let it all go.
Watching my life
spin outwards to nothing,
a distant echo
of who I used to be
comes back to me
but I don’t remember her now.
If to be myself,
I have to release
what I thought I was
or might be once
then maybe that’s what I’ll do
anyhow.
Double joy - the A Dangerous Man reviews from Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom) and Becky (http://www.myspace.com/edie1964) have finally turned up on Amazon and can be found here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1181061968&sr=8-1. Many thanks, guys, I'm really grateful!
Tonight, there’s Guildford Writers (http://www.guildfordwriters.net), so that should be fun. Am planning to take the first page of The Bones of Summer along and get some feedback on that. I suspect I’ll be asked what my plans are for the book, as somebody usually asks me that whenever I start something. Um, and my answer is always the same – I’ll know when I write it, as it’s just as much of a mystery to me as it is to everyone else. It’s all done by smoke and mirrors, you know. That said, as usual I do have an end scene in mind, though I haven’t written it yet. I need to get the guys some way nearer it before I do that one (and even then no doubt it’ll change when I finally get there myself).
Today’s nice things:
1. Amazon reviews
2. Writing a poem
3. Guildford Writers
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
This morning, Lord H performed another of his shapeshifting tricks – he left the flat looking entirely like his usual self but, by the time I was waving him off down the path, he’d changed into the postman. Suspicious, eh … I fear the mother-ship may be calling him home. However, fear not as, once the postman had vanished next door, Lord H turned up as himself again, pointing helpfully to his head so I could know it was him. Mornings in downtown Godalming are so exciting, you know.
Oh, and on the radio this morning, I heard a lovely song – “Grace” – by someone called Simon Webbe (whom I’ve never heard of, which probably just goes to show how ignorant I am). Sorry. Anyway, must get the CD sometime – I loved it.
It’s a bit flat at work at the moment. Yesterday’s flurry of activity has obviously stunned all my usual correspondents into silence. I’m waiting on a barrel-load of people to reply to my pleas for attention, but am held in a vacuum until they do. Welcome to the Secretarial World, eh? ’Twas ever thus.
Took my usual stroll round campus at lunchtime, and stopped in at the new exhibition at the art gallery. Sat by the lake for a while too – it’s such a good place to think in (if you get my meaning). Watched the coot (or are they moorhens? Who can tell?…) family – the youngsters were picking grasses from the parent bird, when really they should be old enough to do it themselves by now. Hmm, we obviously have more in common with the bird world than we thought. And there was also a grey squirrel rolling in a soil bath at the bottom of a nearby tree – perhaps we should all do this occasionally? It certainly looked like fun. Oh, and I thought I heard a tweeting from the bush behind me that I’m sure I’ve heard on the birdsong CD– but just couldn’t remember which of the tweeters it might be. Darn it. I think all this nature rambling must be due to age - when I turned 30, I suddenly developed an undying love for Dutch flower paintings (which I'd always hated before) - now I can't get enough of them. Give me a Dutch flower painting - even a postcard will do - and I'm your friend for life. In the same way, I think my 40s will be the decade of the bird. You have been warned ...
On the PR front, the Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) article that appeared in The Guildford Times a couple of weeks ago has also apparently appeared in The Cranleigh Times, so our fame is spreading … Today Cranleigh, tomorrow the world.
Oh, and I’ve written a poem – which is something of a relief as I haven’t written one for a while and was getting twitchy. Again.
Shedding the skin
These days
I want to do less
and my pleasure lies in saying no.
While others fill their days
with lunches, hobbies, evenings out,
an ever-widening circle of friends,
my first and strongest instinct
is to open the closed fist
spread the fingers wide
and simply let it all go.
Watching my life
spin outwards to nothing,
a distant echo
of who I used to be
comes back to me
but I don’t remember her now.
If to be myself,
I have to release
what I thought I was
or might be once
then maybe that’s what I’ll do
anyhow.
Double joy - the A Dangerous Man reviews from Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom) and Becky (http://www.myspace.com/edie1964) have finally turned up on Amazon and can be found here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1181061968&sr=8-1. Many thanks, guys, I'm really grateful!
Tonight, there’s Guildford Writers (http://www.guildfordwriters.net), so that should be fun. Am planning to take the first page of The Bones of Summer along and get some feedback on that. I suspect I’ll be asked what my plans are for the book, as somebody usually asks me that whenever I start something. Um, and my answer is always the same – I’ll know when I write it, as it’s just as much of a mystery to me as it is to everyone else. It’s all done by smoke and mirrors, you know. That said, as usual I do have an end scene in mind, though I haven’t written it yet. I need to get the guys some way nearer it before I do that one (and even then no doubt it’ll change when I finally get there myself).
Today’s nice things:
1. Amazon reviews
2. Writing a poem
3. Guildford Writers
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
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