Holidays and publishing news

Italy was kind of fun, I must say - the best thing was just getting away and not having to think about all the other stuff, to be honest. Such a treat. I wouldn't say it was our favourite ever holiday, probably not by a long chalk, but there were some great (and some not so great ...) highlights, including:

1. Assisi. It's fabulous - I really loved it, far more than I thought I would. I'd go back tomorrow if asked.
2. Spotting a Common Redstart - a lifetime first, hurrah!
3. Spotting hosts of glorious Swallowtail butterflies on a walk through an olive tree grove, double hurrah.
4. My digital camera refusing to function, so I had to borrow Lord H's if I saw something I liked.
5. And guess what? Yes, you're right, my replacement CoolReader broke on the 2nd day, in the same way as it did before. No, I won't be getting another. I'll replace it myself with a Sony Reader (of which more later). I do feel we should have at least some of Lord H's CoolReader money back though, but I suspect the company aren't going to make it easy for us, deep deep sigh ... Either way, the CoolReader has not in any way covered itself with glory.

Meanwhile at home, the following has occurred, some good and some bad:

1. Meditation Poem 13 is now published here.
2. Toes do furnish a man (another poem) is also published here.
3. My short story, Two Christmases, has been accepted for Dreamspinner Press's upcoming anthology, Mistletoe Madness.
4. Despite sending the final version of Hallsfoot's Battle to the agent before I went on holiday, there's been no acknowledgement. Of any sort. Is he dead or terribly terribly sick, we ask??...
5. The Gifting has now been rejected by every single publisher, both large and small, in the known universe and possibly some in the Delta Quadrant also (but I haven't had their emails yet). So I am planning to self-publish it either later this year or early 2010. Sod the lot of the ruddy publishing world, I say. I am really seriously fed up with them - except of course those lovely small publishers who have seen some kind of merit in what I have previously written, Gawd bless 'em.
6. I have therefore asked my agent to bring our business relationship to an end, as there's no point having a fantasy novel agent if I'm going to self-publish the whole trilogy on my own without bothering the crumbling ivory towers of the so-called mainstream (and not so mainstream) fantasy press - I don't want them to get their hands dirty with good literature, eh, do I, ho ho. As I've had no response to that message from the agent either, I've gone ahead and started the process of getting an independent editor/proofreader for The Gifting anyway. After all, what's the point of waiting for answers that never appear? Plus I've made initial enquiries with a suitable self-publishing company. So, watch this space for a rollicking good adventure read to come ...
7. Lord H has bought me a Sony Reader - which I hope will last longer than the rather more than feeble Coolreader - and I am busy charging it up right now. Again, watch this space.
8. We've spent a very pleasant day at Pulborough Brooks and spotted a wood sandpiper (another lifetime first!), two buzzards, a kestrel and a chiff-chaff, amongst the usual suspects. It's been a relief to get away from the pains of my stumbling literary career (ho ho).
9. I have thoroughly depressed myself by looking at my work emails, of which there are many, most of which are urgent and I will have to do the moment I return to work on Monday. Honestly, I swear that one of the main reasons for me trying to become a successful (pause for rampant laughter) novelist was the stalking fear of being swallowed up whole by meaningless administration, but I see it is likely to happen anyway. Really, work is sometimes so overwhelmingly depressing, and the business of writing is sometimes so shot through with inevitable failure that I just feel like bursting into tears and running away onto a desert island as far away as possible from both of them. With Lord H of course (well, he doesn't like work either). If only one were allowed to be successful in the career one actually wants to have, then life would be so much less dark, I feel. As it is, I am only relatively successful in a field that means almost nothing to me, so it's all something of a bugger really. Ah well. Only another ten years to go and I might be allowed to think about retirement, eh.
10. Sorry about the moaning, but going on holiday only makes things a thousand times worse when you come back. I think that, as I get older, it also gets harder to settle down into the daily round again. I'm dreading Monday already, double sigh.

Anne Brooke - she tried to be a novelist once, you know ...
The Gifting - the novel nobody wants: coming soon to an online provider near you (but don't wait up)

Happy (nearly) Anniversary, holidays and a raft of book news ...

Heck, where do I start? What a supremely busy day it's been today. First off I must say happy 16th wedding anniversary to us as of tomorrow, hurrah! Well gosh and it's astonishing that Lord H hasn't sent me back to the Wife Shop yet. We're celebrating today though as tomorrow we're off to Italy at some ungodly hour and there'll be no time for anything but packing and panicking. Bring on that champagne and make it snappy ...

And here's today's meditation:

Meditation 222

In the storm
of harsh words,
accusation and hate,

one clear voice
tells us what we know
in the blood:

that God is eternal
but the work of man
must die.


My, how jolly I am. No, really ... Meanwhile, what a lot of writing news there is today, most good but some bad, ah well. You'll be pleased to hear that I finally finished the edits for Hallsfoot's Battle and have sent the book off to the agent for his delectation. Or otherwise. It's such a relief to have done it, I must say. Just in time for the holiday too, hurrah.

Set against that is the bad news that my final (or almost final - see a few sentences on ...) potential publisher for The Gifting has just rejected it, so my faint commercial hopes for it are alas all but over. That said, I've had a surprising request for the first three chapters from a small independent fantasy press, so I've sent that off, as I'd be foolish not to, really. I should hear by October apparently, so at least the pain will be swift. And then I can, with a bit of luck and if the wind is in the right direction, get on with self-publishing it for early 2010.

And the writing news is not over yet. I'm pleased to say that my review of Ian Kelly's biography of Casanova is now up at Vulpes Libris and I can thoroughly recommend the book. It's stylish, sexy and beguiling - what more can you want?

Keeping on the subject of Vulpes Libris, I'm thrilled to report that the Vulpes review of The Bones of Summer has been syndicated by the Chicago Sun-Times so now appears there also. Well, gosh, and well done to Moira and me! Vulpes rocks, naturally ...

Not only that, but I'm also happy to say that Maloney's Law has been given a 5 star review at Jessewave Reviews, and the same review also appears today at Jenre's Reviews. Thank you so much, Jenre!

In the middle of all this excitement, I'm completed my review of Sarah Stonich's The Ice Chorus, and that should be uploaded onto the Vulpes site on 9 October. It's a lyrical and rich read indeed, but not without its faults. Then again, who isn't?

I've also packed, chatted to the neighbour and played around with my website for a while. As you do. Oh and I've also downloaded a suitable number of eBooks onto my eReader for the hols - here's hoping it doesn't break down again, eh. As, for the next week, Lord H and I will be taking what I think is a hugely well-earned break, and we will be sunning ourselves here, whilst eating an enormous amount of ice-cream and admiring an enormous amount of history and art. I can't wait. I'll be back late on 18 September, so probably back online on 19th, I imagine.

Until then, I hope you all have a glorious week, and please don't work too hard. I don't intend to.

Today's nice things:

1. 16 years of marriage, hurrah!
2. Poetry
3. Completing the Hallsfoot edit
4. Casanova on Vulpes
5. The syndication of the Vulpes Bones review
6. The Maloney review
7. Books
8. Ebooks
9. Holidays!

Anne Brooke - getting ready for sunshine and happiness
Vulpes Libris: enjoying some 18th century sex and style with Mr Newhouse (ho ho)

Various reviews and a pre-holiday scramble

Am thrilled to say that I had two good reviews yesterday evening. First off was a four-star review of Painting from Life on the Goodreads site from Daisiemae – thank you, Daisiemae! And I also had a lovely five star review of A Dangerous Man on Amazon UK from Ms D Ilott which you can read below:

“Anne Brooke's novel of the collision of art and money, ambition and power, grabs you from the start and doesn't let go. What's especially impressive is the way that Brooke's style sets up narrative information - about the business of art, the grinding frustration of hustling cash for ambitions always just out of reach - without letting go the pace or losing purpose. There's always something going on and Brooke is highly skilled at pushing the story forward, even when pausing on her characters' thoughts and motives. The artist Michael draws in monochrome, surely a deliberate parallel with the business of writing, struggling to control the colours beyond the edge of the paper. The metaphor works, as do the London settings; Brooke has the feel for how so much of London seems frosted with dust whatever the weather. But the characters are far from colourless. Believable, fallible people chasing their own ambitions; even the bully Paul has his reasons. Michael's relationship with rich-boy Jack is neatly drawn, recognisable to anyone who knows that people who sleep together do not necessarily get along. And the plot twist is surprising, even on second reading. A shady, chilly story - so much of it seems to take place in half-light - that manages to say something about art (about writing too) without being pretentious and gives an ingenious riff on the dour old truth that the worst that can happen is to get what you want.”

Thanks, Ms Ilott – much appreciated! And here’s today’s poem:

Meditation 221

They wait
in sunlight
and the street’s low murmur

for the shadow
of the man
who once touched goodness

to pass by.
And everywhere
rumours of healing,

echoes of song.


At work, I’m running around attempting to sort out those Sunday early arrivals flyer – ah, the mysteries of reducing maps and getting everything to line up. At least the boss appeared to know what to do which was a relief, hurrah. And thanks only to him, we’ve finally got it all under control. Phew. Astonishing really that in an office with at least three professionally trained secretaries (including me, ho ho), the only person who could work the photocopier properly was the boss. Ah well, thank goodness my review is over for this year …

Managed to nip into town at lunchtime to put a cheque in (well, gosh) and get some last-minute holiday gubbins (suncream and … err … suncream, really). Much to my horror, the sales lady in Boots who took my cash had an absolutely streaming cold, poor thing – I only hope I don’t get it, dammit … Time for some Echinacea, big-time, I feel. This afternoon, I was knee-deep in minuting the thrills and spills of the Student Experience Strategy Project Board. No, I don’t really know what that means either, but I don’t think anyone’s quite found me out yet … Actually, it was a really good meeting, but there’s no chance of getting the minutes written up before I’m off though, so I hope I remember what on earth it was all about by the time I get back.

Tonight, I have the final twenty pages of Hallsfoot’s Battle to edit, so there’s a light at the end of the tunnel at last. And the lovely people at Dark Diva Reviews are having a month-long October competition and are including me in it. More to be revealed in October …

Today’s nice things:

1. Review of Painting from Life
2. Review of A Dangerous Man
3. Poetry
4. Editing Hallsfoot
5. The Dark Diva Reviews competition.

Anne Brooke – surrounded by paperwork but dreaming of Italy …
A Dangerous Man – art and love in all its forms

Bones reviews and writers group

Am really delighted to say that Moira has given The Bones of Summer a very kind review at Vulpes Libris which you can read here. Thanks, Moira – much appreciated!

And here’s today’s meditation:

Meditation 220

For the lack
of a few coins

they hold back
from the kitty,

Ananias and Sapphira
lie dead

amongst the new disciples.
It’s not my idea

of a caring church
at all.


It’s a strange part of the bible for sure. And doesn’t exactly encourage church giving, ho ho.

At work, I’m busy with those dang meeting arrangements and attempting to tidy things up before my holiday. I’m also trying to write up the minutes of yesterday’s meeting, but I fear confusion reigns. Again. Plus we’ve had to arrange an urgent Welcome event for this coming Sunday (arrghh!!) that we didn’t know about until today, so I’ve been scrabbling around frantically for rooms and catering, and trying to work out a last-minute publicity flyer. Honestly, I’ve barely had time to breathe …

Took the Writers’ Group at lunchtime, which was fun. If scary, as ever. I’m not a natural group leader, by a long long chalk. But I gave them a writing game about historical events and how they might have been. I think they enjoyed it.

Tonight, I’m tackling the last 80 pages of the edit to Hallsfoot’s Battle, and looking forward to the glorious darkness of The Fixer on TV. Perfect Tuesday viewing.

Today’s nice things:

1. The Bones of Summer Vulpes review
2. Poetry
3. Writers’ Group
4. Editing Hallsfoot
5. TV.

Anne Brooke – scary but nice. Honestly …
The Bones of Summer: casting a knowing eye over the human condition (thanks, Moira!)

Meetings, reflexology and goodbye Sir Terry ...

A ridiculously busy day today, but here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 219

For me
a city

is never
a place of refuge

but a place
of shifting shadows

and alienation.


Could work be the new city? It’s certainly a thought … a place full of alienation and shifting shadows indeed. I’m not sure I feel entirely human here. Anyway today, I’ve juggled at least a zillion meeting demands, stared blankly at hundreds of pieces of paper and wondered if I can fit a Starbucks moment into the week at all. Plus this morning we had the last of our Welcome Week planning sessions, and if it’s not done now, then I fear it may never be.

Thank goodness then for lunchtime reflexology – I desperately needed to chill. I’m also attempting to come to terms with the great and deep shock of Terry Wogan leaving the Radio Two Breakfast slot, after about 150 years at least. He always makes me feel so much more real as I drive to work, and I hate the thought that he won’t be there for long. Besides, I really can’t stand any of the Chris Evans’ shows and the thought of him replacing the great Sir Terry is making me lose the will to live entirely, sigh. I’ll have to go back to listening to Classic FM & Radio 3, depending on which tune I prefer.

This afternoon, I’ve done some more meeting flurrying around and a heck of a lot of worrying. Much like a normal day then, but so much more so. Tonight, I’ll pop in to see Gladys on my way home. And then it’s straight into the Hallsfoot’s Battle edit. One third to go …

Ooh, and there’s Mock the Week and Would I Lie To You? on TV so I’ll just have to catch those. Comedy TV makes it all worthwhile, you know.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Reflexology
3. Editing Hallsfoot
4. TV.

Anne Brooke – mourning the imminent loss of breakfast sanity
A Dangerous Man – who has more to worry about than radio stars

Church, chocolate and battle

Here's today's meditation poem:

Meditation 218

After a too-long allocation
of city to tribe,

people to place,
meeting every Israelite need

but his own,
Joshua finally takes

a city for himself
in the Ephraim hills:

calm stones, bleak grasses,
olive trees and silence.


I do always feel quite sorry for Joshua - the poor chap seems to have to deal with rather more admin than Moses ever did. He must have been hugely glad to come to the end of the paperwork at last. Talking of which, we popped into church today and sang some jolly traditional hymns. Always a good thing. Though communion proved tricky - the girlie vicar obviously decided that we all needed additional spiritual help this week (a decision for which I for one cannot blame her) and gave us extra large portions of biscuit (um, wafer, if you want the real word). Which meant that we couldn't manage to get it down before heading towards the holy booze (um the wine ...) so I for one had to store the wafer in my cheeks like a chipmunk whilst taking the wine, all the time trying not to giggle. Or choke. Lordy, Death by Communion - now that would be embarrassing. Thankfully we all survived. And I see that the September edition of the parish magazine has a short article about Disasters and Miracles in it, hurrah, so am hoping that might encourage some sales. You never know, eh.

We were then straight out for a buffet lunch with Liz & friends at her home to celebrate her retirement, and there was an utterly pleasing amount of chocolate during this gorgeous feast. Really, she knows me too well, I suspect ... We are of course all green with envy at the concept of retirement at all: a distant vision of the pleasure of stopping that one can only faintly imagine. Coincidentally, the boy vicar is also planning to retire in a couple of years, and apparently hopes to be useful on Sundays and dig his garden. Harrumph, I say. My advice was to ditch such dull religious nonsense, take up blues guitar and travel the world whilst grape-picking. That's what I would do if I were a vicar planning for retirement anyway - surely the priesthood are more in need of a break from their previous life than any of us? I think he was surprised, and strangely pleased, at my response, so only time will tell ...

For the rest of the day, I've been tackling the final read-through of Hallsfoot's Battle before sending it off to the agent for comment. The plan is to complete it before we go off on holiday this Friday, and I'm now nearly two-thirds through, so there's hope, Carruthers, hope.

And here's this week's haiku (I worry I'm obsessing too much about work and what it does to the soul, alas):

In the review form
there's no box for my mind-state:
fragmented and sad.


Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. The challenges of church
3. Disasters and Miracles in the parish mag
4. Lunch - and chocolate
5. The Hallsfoot read-through
6. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - still chewing that dang wafer ...
Disasters and Miracles: the everyday life of Bible folk

Poetry and packages

I'm very pleased today (well, at last, we cry! - and what a week it's been ...) that two of my meditation poems are now published at Grey Sparrow Press, so that's been a nice boost. Talking of which, here's today's poem:

Meditation 216

The landscape
of contemplation

grows bleak
with the onslaught

of words.
They crowd the air

like lost birds
crying for home

and do not find
a resting place

with you.


Also today, I've managed to complete the more structural edit of Hallsfoot's Battle so that's very satisfying. Though it's meant that my word count is now below the "standard" fantasy novel expectations of 120,000 words at least. I'm at 117,500, if you're interested. Still, as the mainstream press are even now preparing to ignore the beast, why worry, eh? There are compensations for being unpopular, ho ho. So I'll give it a close read-through now before sending it off to the agent for his opinion. I doubt he'll be rushing to read it either as he still won't be able to sell it, poor chap. Ah well.

Anyway, bah to the standard press gods, bah we say. Because we are more than delighted with the kindnesses of the independents: the lovely Dreamspinner Press have totally unexpectedly sent me a huge parcel of The Bones of Summer goodies, which has really put a big smile on my face - so thank you, Elizabeth! So I now have a Bones of Summer t-shirt, countless Bones postcards and bookmarks, plus Dreamspinner pens and bookmarks. It's like Christmas here in the shires, you know. I intend to wear my t-shirt every day and put a big BUY THIS BOOK notice on my head, whilst parading round town until somebody takes pity on me. Or puts the shirt in the wash. I also need to sign some of the postcards and bookmarks (rather than just slobbering over them and crying with delight ...) and return them to Dreamspinner for use in book fairs etc. Sounds like a marketing plan for sure. I am already practising my very best signature.

I've also played golf with Marian this morning - which turned out to be a game of three thirds. As it were. I was okay to begin with, total rubbish in the middle, and then redeemed myself with two neat little pars (one from off the green even) at the end, hurrah. In fact, our state of play in the middle of the game was so distinctly odd that when we teed off from the fourth, we both ended up on the fairway of the third, so simply played the previous hole backwards, as it were. Well, there was nobody playing behind us, so it seemed reasonable. But probably not quite in the golf rules, I suspect.

This afternoon, I've straightened out my extremely stressed back (too much typing, not enough walking) and got in touch with my inner reality (scary ...) at my Alexander Technique lesson, so that's been very relaxing. I do prefer the table work - as standing properly is just so exhausting, my dears ...

And tonight we have a mammoth clean of the flat to face - which I really should be getting on with or Lord H will think I've given up tidying for Lent, or whatever season we're actually in now. Roll on that pizza & ice cream moment though.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry publication
2. The continuing Hallsfoot edit
3. Bones of Summer goodies
4. Golf
5. Alexander Technique
6. Food, mmm ...

Anne Brooke - the new Tiger Woods, but backwards
The Bones of Summer - comes with its own t-shirt, you know ...

Battling through to a kind of finish ...

A rather singleminded focus day today, but here's this morning's meditation:

Meditation 215

He offers
not money

but healing.
Miraculous afternoon.

Though sometimes I wonder
what a lifelong

lame beggar
might do

in the years
that followed after.


For most of today, I'm simply been striding determinedly through the edit of Hallsfoot's Battle, attempting to change scene viewpoints and make the final battle scenes less fragmented. Though I have to say that the nature of battle is in itself pretty fragmented, I would imagine. I've typed and groaned, and muttered and typed, and muttered some more. In between pacing the flat like a mad goat and wondering where the hell the chocolate is. So no great changes there from a normal writing day then. I'm pleased to say however that I've completed the first tranche of the editing process, and I shall attempt to start the nitty-gritty part of shifting things around in a more detailed way tomorrow. Onward and downward, eh.

I must admit though that I've had great waves of existential despair and wondering why the hell I'm bothering - after all, nobody's leapt back to me with amazement in the fifteen months it's been doing the rounds to say they desperately want to publish The Gifting, so who on earth is going to want the second in a trilogy? In fact, publishers haven't even bothered to reject it, not even to the agent. They've just ignored it entirely. Really, I begin to wonder if I'm actually invisible. So, I have two very small publishers that I've submitted The Gifting to directly, and if I hear nothing by the end of the year, then I'll self-publish. If that happens, then I don't think I'll actually submit Hallsfoot's Battle to anyone. It's really not worth the pain and terrible silence, to my mind. One must consider one's mental health, when all's ... err ... written and done.

In the middle of all this, I've also got rid of two dead wasps and one live one (where the hell do they come from, the evil beasts??...) so huge applause for me and my extraordinary courage. Not sure I have the guts to deal with another one if it turns up though. If it does, I will have to hide sobbing in a cupboard and wait for Lord H to come home. I also suspect that as the two dead wasps were young ones and the living one was very dopey that there's a nest somewhere about coming to its natural end. Thank the Lord.

Tonight, Lord H and I are off to the theatre to see Strictly Murder - which, whilst probably not being strong on laughs, does at least look as if it might take my mind off my writing disappointments, hurrah.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Editing
3. Dead wasps
4. Theatre.

Anne Brooke - last woman standing, possibly
Painting from Life - art and death: what could be nicer?

Church, cappuccinos and coatstands

Am feeling the pressure of apparent perfection in today’s Bible reading so here’s my take on it:

Meditation 214

Those early Christians
with all their

fellowship, sharing,
hospitality, gladness,

humility, praise
and that whole community life

sound really
rather dull

but then
I’ve always found

the concept of church
faintly suspicious

and really
rather false.


Teams – I’m just no good in them. Never see the point, myself … An obvious psycho-social lack in me, I’m sure. Ah well, tell me something I don’t know, eh. Anyway, I’ve also written a poem about marmalade biscuits. Well, they deserve some kind of accolade and it may as well be me.

Today, I’ve been rootling away with my long-running meetings crises and attempting to lie low, whilst worrying about Freshers’ Week. So much the same as a normal day, all in all. Still, our team cappuccino break late morning was much appreciated. It’s great to get out of the office and chill a bit once in a while. Especially before the rollercoaster ride of Freshers’ Week comes upon us.

In the meantime, the mysteries of office post collection continue. As we’re now in Senate House, the post department don’t deliver to us directly but leave and collect the post via the use of lockers on the first floor. Which means that at the specified posting times, crowds of staff are walking up and down stairs clutching the enormous brown post bags and looking ever so slightly anxious. The unwritten law seems to be that if you miss the time slots, then the post people remove your bags entirely and homeless pieces of post float round the building for ever and a day trying to find rest – so yesterday when it was my turn, pressure of work meant I never seemed to get quite the right time for it and we were left with no bags at all. So today we’ve had to pile up our outgoing post on top of the coatstand where the bag normally hangs. Honestly you wouldn’t put this sort of stuff in a Monty Python episode, you know, but it does all look rather pretty … Though I fear that everyone else in the office gets much more hung up about the post disasters than I do as I can’t get that excited about paperwork (unless it’s a novel contract, ho ho), but luckily Carol has saved the day and somehow found a spare bag when she took her turn. Which at least means the coatstand is back to its usual function, hurrah. I suspect I will – like double-entry bookkeeping – never really “get it”, sigh … It’s also been suggested that if the post department don’t want to climb up and down the Senate House stairs to deliver directly, then they should use the lift and just chuck the bags out at each floor – but I suspect that might well cause passing visitors some concern and will have the Health & Safety Department up in arms. It’s a nice image though.

Also managed to take a walk around campus at lunchtime, and I even remembered to take my trusty (so far …) e-reader with me. How I love that little mauve rectangle. Well, not so little really, but with my eyes I can’t be doing with too small. I also popped into the art gallery which had some wonderful pictures of strong solitary women. Very impressive.

On the way home, I popped in to see Gladys. They’ve changed her bed & seat positions lately so she can see more easily out of the window. Which is a good thing. Though, to be honest, I don’t know now if she sees any of the birds at the bird table at all. Still, I keep filling it up. Lordy but they’re greedy little things. Or maybe it’s the squirrels? Who can tell … Anyway, she couldn't be doing with me today, so I didn't stay long. Mind you, I can't really blame her - I am at odds with the world.

Tonight, I’m carrying on with my edit to Hallsfoot’s Battle, and I think I’m getting into the final stretch, hurrah. Or rather the beginning of the final stretch. The battle is at last in sight anyway. About time too, we cry.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Cappuccino
3. Lunchtime walks
4. Art
5. Editing.

Anne Brooke – wishing she were as frothy and bright as that cappuccino …
Disasters and Miracles: Bible life revisited

Reviews, books and battles

How I love the bank holidays. We've been super lazy today and not done a thing which is bliss. Here's this morning's poem:

Meditation 212

The river
flows into salt,
its freshness lost.

And the tongue
remembers
forgotten languages

forged in wind
and flame
for a while.


I'm really thrilled to say that the lovely Jilly has given The Bones of Summer a very good review on her website today which you can read here. Thanks so much, Jilly - glad you enjoyed the book!

Not only that, but she's kindly put up a five-star review on Amazon UK as well, so double thanks for that also. You can read that one here. So that's a very big smile on my face this bank holiday for sure.

Keeping to the topic of books, I've read Sarah Stonich's The Ice Chorus, which is a very powerful and poetic story about a holiday affair and the changes it brings to the heroine's life. I'm hoping to review it for Vulpes Libris after I've finished tackling my current editing, so I won't say much. But I certainly experienced the whole range of emotions in my reaction to the heroine - sometimes I wanted to slap her very very hard, and sometimes her story made me weep. Goodness me indeed.

Meanwhile I'm trucking slowly onwards with the edit to Hallsfoot's Battle. Interesting how the changes are bringing the focus more firmly onto Annyeke. Which is a good thing, to my mind. Lots more to come however, so we're not out of the woods yet.

This afternoon, I caught up with the latest on Ugly Betty, and tonight I'm hugely looking forward to Part Two of Wuthering Heights on TV. Part One yesterday was utterly gripping and I loved it. Funny how Heathcliff is indeed such a monster and yet I so desperately want him to win, even with knowing what happens. The actor is just so perfect in that part. Wonderful stuff.

Today's nice things:

1. Bank holidays
2. Poetry
3. Reviews for Bones
4. Books
5. Editing Hallsfoot
6. TV.

Anne Brooke: roaming through the moors of ... um ... Surrey
A Dangerous Man: almost as scary as Heathcliff and probably twice as deranged ...

Skies, battle and song

I must say what an utterly glorious time Lord H and I had at last night's The Great Look Up event. The range of experts and telescopes was astonishing. We managed to get brilliant views of Jupiter, its rings and three of its moons, plus a ring nebula and a very very close look at the moon. I loved the whole thing. It was fascinating, and I would definitely jump at the chance to do something like that again. It really made you look. In a world were that doesn't happen often, I think.

Anyway, here's today's meditation poem:

Meditation 210

Redemption
lies in the struggle

to clear its path;
gaze upwards

and let your heart
rise

through a clarity
of angels.


This morning, I've been continuing the edit of Hallsfoot's Battle and have now worked out the complicated piece of editing. Which, like many things in life, wasn't actually as complicated or as fearsome once I got down to it. I'm very happy with how that section looks now. And, amazingly, I'm nearly half way through. Ye gods and little fishes indeed.

This afternoon, Lord H and I are off to our last Glyndebourne opera which is L'elisir d'Amore. One I really enjoy - it's such fun. This time we've opted for the pre-performance tea, just to ring those proverbial changes, so we'll spend the long interval sipping champagne and admiring the gardens. As you do. Ah, it's a tough life ... Though sadly it's the last of this season's operas so no more Glyndebourne after today until next year. The end of summer then, I fear.

Meanwhile, I'm in two minds about Ishiguro's latest short story collection, Nocturnes, which I've read on my e-reader. It's a very interesting and not a difficult read, with the stories focused on music and displacement. But it felt a bit "light" and I didn't really enjoy the title story, which went on for far far too long. The collection as a whole didn't really leave me with any sense of voice, and I have to say it's not Murakami. Though not bad. Faint praise, I know, but ah well.

Today's nice things:

1. Remembering the night sky
2. Poetry
3. Editing
4. Glyndebourne.

Anne Brooke - dusting down her posh frock and shoes
A Dangerous Man - which strange to say did once have a Glyndebourne sex scene but wisely I ditched it ...

Editing, sleep and the big night skies

Well, we thoroughly enjoyed Walking with Dinosaurs last night - a magnificent show indeed and very well done. Stars of the show were the great beasts themselves of course, but the way the plant life burst out of the stage at various points was grand too. The only big down-side was the fact that we were over half an hour late due to the fact that the M25 was shut and everything in the south came to a sympathetic standstill. Which made an hour's journey into a grand 2.5 hours and was extremely dull. Not to mention frustrating. On the way we passed no less than four accidents and were passed in turn by a very very slow-moving fire engine. One hopes it got there before the fire gave up. All of which probably made it into National Traffic Queueing Day, and the country will be celebrating its anniversary for years to come. Anyway, people were arriving late all the way through the show (which matters very little due to the nature of Wembley Arena). But the people I was really sorry for were the young family who finally crawled into their seats in front of us looking thoroughly bedraggled and traffic-beaten about 10 minutes before it actually ... um ... ended. Tough explaining that one to the young children in tow ...

Anyway, to today. And there's a poem, and it's the first day of reading Acts:

Meditation 209

Sometimes
it is necessary

to advance,
pour forth

the needs
of the moment,

demand satisfaction.
At other times

there is nothing
to do

but wait
under empty skies,

trusting in a promise
you no longer see.


For most of the day I've been editing Hallsfoot's Battle and am quite pleased with progress. I've now come to a section of more complicated editing so I'll leave it until I feel fresher, I think. After that and worn out from all the excitement of the past few days, I've managed to fit in a much-needed nap. Which turned out to be a whole two hours, so Lordy but I must have needed it.

Tonight, Lord H and I are out at the University's Great Look Up event, as he's something of a fan of the night sky and I think it should be interesting. Mind you, I'll try and avoid the barbecue, I think - I'm not a great fan of raw meat in the open air. If I want to eat badly-cooked food, I'd prefer to do it indoors ...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Editing progress
3. Napping
4. The night sky.

Anne Brooke: head in the clouds as usual
Thorn in the Flesh: a definitive night-time read

Poetry, the reading revolution and Mr Penry-Jones

Today we’re at the end of St John’s Gospel so here’s my last poem on that:

Meditation 208

In the flesh
there are no borders

and in the blood
and spirit and memory

there are so
many words

that the whole world
cannot hold them.


Tomorrow, it’s Acts – so hang on to your hats as we dive into that action-packed drama and angst …

At work, I’m actually doing quite well on my information gathering project – I’m rootling through the undergrowth with my trusty machete, and the tigers haven’t yet torn me limb from limb. So there’s hope, Carruthers, hope … I’m also attempting to sort out some upcoming meetings, but as it’s August and most of the academic staff are therefore sunning themselves in Majorca or Barbados, my hopes there aren’t quite as high. Still, by next week, we’ll be truly into autumn and it’ll be as if the summer pause never happened at all. Though actually, it didn’t for us. And probably not for the academic staff either. Ah well.

But this morning’s great excitement was the fire alarm going off. What fun. We all left the building beautifully and it wasn’t raining, hurrah. Nice to get out of the office once in a while en masse. There wasn’t actually a fire either, which is even better. I also managed to squeeze in a quick lunch & a cappuccino (hurrah!) with Jennifer – hello, Jennifer! Great to catch up and in just over an hour (naughty me …) we managed to put the literary world to rights. Jennifer’s Great Plan is that if we find a book that’s badly written (Sasha Wagstaff’s dreadful book, Changing Grooms, springs at once to mind, alas), or with dull characters and a ridiculous plot (um, ditto), we should mark up the errors and send it back to the publisher to say that the quality of the product falls below an acceptable legal standard and we should therefore have our money back. Honestly, it’s not a bad plan at all – and if everyone did it, then maybe publishers would begin to think twice about accepting substandard work for their lists. One can but hope. The reading revolution starts here …

Tonight, I’m pondering the edit of Hallsfoot’s Battle once more, though I mustn’t miss a new version of The 39 Steps on TV tonight, with the really quite scrumptious Rupert Penry-Jones. Whom I hadn’t really cottoned on to before, never having seen Spooks, but who swept me away in the glorious crime series, Whitechapel. Mmm, can’t wait …

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Reading revolutions
3. Editing
4. TV.

Anne Brooke – hacking away in a jungle of paper
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice – the perfect summer cocktail

The Great Information Gatherer and holiday memories

On this rather grey start to the day, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 207

East of the waters
the question

of where your heart rests
overflows the sense.

Love
is a binding power,

leading you
through unsung paths

where even now
you fear to pace:

follow it.


At work, with Clare’s help, I’ve finally got hold of some of last year’s reference sheets for Freshers’ Week so have spent most of the day attempting bravely to update them. My goodness, what a lot of information we seem to need for that week. It’s a never-ending well, my dears. Will I ever reach the bottom (as it were)?

Walked into town at lunchtime, mainly in order to get another journal. I always take one on holiday and the one I currently have doesn’t have that many pages left for any deep thoughts or inspiration that may flow my way in Italy, ho ho. I do find they come in handy – my holiday experiences in Bruges found their way into Kate’s story in Thorn in the Flesh, and of course my Egypt trip found its way into Maloney’s Law. I shall always remember that young boy, his very dirty basket of bread rolls and those Americans, Gawd help them. I hope they survived … Ooh, and I popped into Boots while I was in town and the totally lovely woman from whom I always buy my Clinique stuff (but I haven’t seen her for a while) took one look at me and told me my hair was utterly fabulous. How very kind! I didn’t think anyone in my “real life” but Lord H had noticed I’ve been growing it longer. It’s been a real boost today.

Tonight I am torn between expected joy and tears; it’s the last episode of Desperate Romantics and I’m already missing it. Please let there be another series – soon … My TV screen will be all the dimmer without it, alas.

Meanwhile, I’m getting into the edit of Hallsfoot’s Battle and can feel myself becoming quite excited about it again. I do love this part of the writing … um … battle. I’m being very drastic too about what I keep and what I add in. The snow raven is biting the dust, or possibly pecking it, and Johan’s point of view is going, as is the First Elder’s, these latter two to be subsumed into the viewpoints of my remaining four characters. Ah, the power, the power – it’s so satisfying.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Holiday journals
3. Hair compliments
4. TV
5. Editing powers.

Anne Brooke – power-crazed but beautifully coiffed writer sweeps through Surrey
Thorn in the Flesh – the dark side of the Surrey shires ...

Reflexology and editing

Goodness me, here we are again at Monday. How these summer weeks just fly by. Anyway, here’s today’s poem:

Meditation 206

The whole water
is empty of life

and the air
is as silent

as the hills.
Night has folded us in

like the promise
of death

and when the morning
finally softens the sky

all I have
is nothing

and all I see is how
at the water’s edge

he waits for me.


Have spent the day continuing to sort out details for the upcoming Freshers’ Week. I really need to get together a reference book for our information points staff, but I’m not quite clear on where the information actually is. Still, that’s never stopped me in the past, so I’m almost sure I’ll be able to whip up something that looks meaningful. Famous last words, eh. I’ve also had a fun time rejigging the Health Centre website ready for the new influx of students and arranging another tranche of meetings for next year. My, how it makes me laugh when people say that because I work in education my summers must be easier. Ho ho.

So, with all that, I thoroughly enjoyed my lunchtime reflexology appointment – soooo relaxing. Plus I’ve booked some more to get me through the autumn, hurrah.

Tonight, I’m intending to look a little closer at the Hallsfoot’s Battle edit, with the reward of Would I Lie To You? on TV later. As a sop to my existential pain of course. Wonderful.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Reflexology
3. Editing
4. TV.

Anne Brooke – feeling the benefits of the foot rub
Maloney’s Law: a man who could really have done with a little reflexology to get him through …

Church, edits and books

Here's today's meditation:

Meditation 205

In the middle
of battle, victory

and a bargained marriage
she knows

what is needed
and for this one time

she asks
what she wants

and gets it:
the upper

and lower water.
Caleb, Othniel, Achsah.


Keeping on a religious theme, Lord H and I graced the church with our presence today, but were utterly confused by the hymns. I think it's part of the Anglican August conspiracy that vicars choose hymns nobody knows to tunes that nobody understands. Perhaps they think it keeps us on our toes? We had a charming one by Wesley - called Author of Life Divine - but it's only two verses long so the congregation barely had time to get to grips with the tune. After all, the Church Hymn Rule for unknown tunes is the first verse is the one where you're working it through, the second verse is the one where you're practising it and the third verse and beyond is the one where you can really belt it out with gusto. Today we didn't get that chance. Ah well. We were also muddled by the fact that the last two lines of said verses are apparently sung slower and twice. Hmm, nobody told us ...

Still, at least we're back to shaking hands during the Peace and allowed to take wine at communion, so the spectre of the swine flu plague has obviously lost some of its grip. I also managed to give out a few postcards for Disasters and Miracles that Bridge House Publishing had kindly sent out. Nice to see that Disasters and Miracles at Amazon appears to be doing well. At one point late last week, its sales ranking actually only had four figures. Well, gosh, I've never been in those dizzy heights before.

This afternoon, I have fiddled around a little with the edits for the start of Hallsfoot's Battle and am pleased with my minimal efforts so far. More drastic cuts and slashes are ahead however! Time to gird one's loins for the kill.

Keeping to the subject of books, may I say that Sasha Wagstaff's Changing Grooms is the worst novel I've had the horror of reading in a long long time. What I was hoping for was light but intelligent women's fiction. What I actually got was dull, cliched, clunky and very very badly written. And the characters were so shallow it was laughable. A serious disappointment. It's an astonishment Headline actually published it - what on earth could they have been thinking?? Point of view changes happened every few paragraphs so it was very difficult to work out where you were at any one time, the conversations were completely unrealistic - how many British men do you know who sit down and discuss their emotions and the meaning of love at great length with each other?? - the plot was very sloppy, and character development (where it existed at all) was only shown through what clothes they were wearing. This kind of book is an insult to any reader, and certainly an insult to the genre. Shameful stuff. The only slightly positive angle I can spin on it is that if crap such as this is published by a mainstream imprint, then there is surely hope for us all. It also puts the nail finally and absolutely in the coffin of the ridiculously misinformed brigade who insist that "if you write something of quality, then of course it will be published ..." Um, not if this is the kind of book the so-called "quality press" are publishing, say I. Lord preserve us indeed.

Thank goodness then for an extremely high quality poetry collection from Peter Abbs. His Viva la Vida (though I do so hate that pretentious foreign title ...) is top class poetry that manages to be human, spiritual, religious and accessible, all at the same time. Which is surely a feat in itself. I have an absolute raft of favourites from the book, but I do have to mention "Falling Like Gulls" (about memory), "Grandmother Reading at Myrtle Cottage" (a strong and poignant portrait of a woman), "Moving Statues" (about faith and expectation), "Other Gifts" (a poem about emotional inheritances), "A Raw Planting" (visiting the graves of his parents), "The Genius of Turner" (how art happens) and "Small Love Poem". Amongst many many others. I shall definitely be looking out for more of Abbs' work.

Finally, here's this week's haiku:

Each raindrop glistens
with the clarity of light
and the world is still.


Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Church
3. Disasters and Miracles' Amazon rating
4. Beginning the Hallsfoot edit
5. Viva la Vida
6. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - puzzling over hymns
Disasters and Miracles: ideal Sunday reading

Reviews, pars and reports

What an exceptionally sparkly day it's been - we had a glorious moment at lunchtime when it began to rain heavily whilst the sun was still shining and the raindrops were all glittery. Just like a Disney film. Wonderful. It could only happen in the shires, you know. Anyway, here's today's meditation:

Meditation 203

Some old men
won’t lie down

but keep knocking
on your door

to demand land
and armies

and honour.
Whilst younger men

won’t stay dead
but arrive at supper

to show you
blood and pain

and a strange
breathable peace.


I'm thrilled to say that Christina at Romance Junkies Reviews has given The Bones of Summer a 4.5 star review which you can read here. An extract of the review is below:

“The Bones of Summer by Anne Brooke is an exceptionally well written and thrilling mystery novel. This novel grabbed a hold of me almost immediately and would not let go. I found myself reading until the early morning hours. The plot is quite interesting but what really intrigued me most about this book is Craig himself. He survived a terrible childhood. I admired his resilience. His father’s fanaticism is extremely disturbing and also very sad. The last few chapters are especially chilling and will stay with me for a long time.”

Thanks so much, Christina - I really appreciate that.

Golf this morning was fantastic too - my score wasn't as good as last week's dizzy heights (shame ...) but I managed to get the grand total of three pars. Three!! It's unbelievable, especially as the one on the eighth hole went in from a chip off the green. As it were (does this make sense to anyone but a golfer?). Who needs putters?... I parred the final hole too, which I felt pretty damn good about. Especially as when we walked back to the clubhouse, I was congratulated on it by not one, but two groups of male golfers. Result eh! It's amazing I can get into the flat at all with a head this size ...

Lynda has also arrived for my haircut and I now look almost sophisticated, my dears. Whatever next? I've also been working away on my review of Julian Fellowes' Past Imperfect for Vulpes Libris. I've now got the basis of what I want to say. I just need to sort out the quotes to demonstrate it. The book really is a fascinating read, even in its not-quite-perfect state.

This afternoon, my back has been duly stretched and widened into the shape it should be at my Alexander Technique lesson, and it certainly does feel different now. Ah if only I could remember and put into practice what I've learnt during the week to come, then I'd really be laughing. Whilst looking tall and elegant. Ho ho.

I've also received my critique from The Literary Consultancy about Hallsfoot's Battle and I'm happy to say that it's not as damning as I feared it might be. They did give the original version of The Gifting something of a pasting (and rightly so), so I was worried about this one. Yes, of course there are fairly major things to alter or kill - but that's par for the course (sorry) for me in the editing process. But I see what they mean and I think I can visualise how it might be, and that at this stage is certainly something. I might fiddle around with changes a little before our upcoming holiday, but I think the bulk of the next tranche of the editing process will happen afterwards. After all, it's not as if there's a rush for it ...

Tonight, it's mammoth flat-cleaning time (arrgghh!) and then there's a programme about a British bull-fighter on TV later, which I absolutely have to watch. This will bring me brickbats and shame, but I have to say I do like bullfights. Sorry, but there it is. We used to go to Spain a lot when I was a child and I loved them back then (which probably says something rather disturbing about me, but then again rural children are rarely sentimental about animals), and I took Lord H to see one when we were in Seville a few years back and I loved it then too. Lord H was not so keen, but he possesses less blood-lust than I do. Considerably less. He did look rather startled when we exited the building but it's no worse than a night out in Colchester when the army are on the razzle. Ah, my teenage years, eh ... Anyway, back to Spain and bullfights, I think for me it's that glorious combination of genuine danger, out-and-out machismo, blood and ballet. Not to mention the men in tight trousers. Marvellous.

Anyway, wiping that psychotic and lustful gleam from my eye, onwards and upwards. Here are today's nice things:

1. Sparkly weather
2. Poetry
3. A review of The Bones of Summer
4. Golf
5. Haircuts
6. Working on another Vulpes review
7. Alexander Technique
8. The report on Hallsfoot
9. TV.

Anne Brooke - bloody but relatively unbowed
The Bones of Summer - guaranteed: no bull

Rocks, reviews and requests

It seems to have been a day of getting things done and pleasant surprises on the whole, which is always nice. Let's start with this morning's poem:

Meditation 187

When the puzzle,
the parable, the shadow,
the mysterious everlasting dance

of the spoken word
is laid to one side
for a while

all that is left
is love: naked,
defenceless, perfect.


First off, in terms of literary matters, I'm pleased to say that my short story, The Rock, has now been republished by Einstein's Pocket Watch - so if you didn't catch it at the first publication, now's your chance!

I'm also thrilled to say that Pink Champagne and Apple Juice has received a Five Diva review from Dark Diva Reviews, which can be found at the previous link and below:

“As I started reading this with my good ol’ cuppa joe on a lovely Saturday morning, Pink Champagne and Apple Juice was probably the first ebook that had me chuckling every two minutes. Anne Brooke must be a comedian at heart because right from the start you have the main girl, Angie Howard, running from her own mother to get on the train to find her Uncle John. Trouble and mishaps followed her nonstop. Angie wanted to have her own life and not have a sheltered life with her overprotective mother. Angie’s character is so easy to like and anyone can relate to her because all she wants is to have her freedom and live life to the fullest. She really does when she finally arrives at her Uncle John’s home, which is rather a racy nightclub with cross dressers and gay people relaxing and being themselves. As fun as it was for Angie to partake in Uncle John’s The Den, every vibrant character worked against her. She had to go through challenges and learn about her own flaws, as well as the family tension between her mother and her uncle. The ugly truth later rears its ugly head, but the endless twists kept me wondering how the story will end. This lively story was amazing in descriptions and situations, so it was very easy to play the story in my head like a movie. It fondly reminded me of the movie called The Birdcage, and the transvestite uncle John was very much like the one and only Nathan Lane, but was set in England and with raunchier innuendo. The French waiter gave Angie the time of her life, while the yelling German chef constantly fought with her due to his passion of cooking. Never diss the mushroom ice cream! Her uncle John was constantly the proverbial keeper of secrets and seemed to hide behind his cross dressing personality, Jolene. John/Jolene often caused trouble for Angie and the twists he caused kept me on my toes. This story had other twists, so much that I got caught up in all of them and was wowed by the final twist. It floored me and I kept saying ‘wow!’ when I finished. Anne Brooke truly mastered the art of keeping her readers drawn in and distracted so the ending isn’t predictable and boring. Her imagination was totally endless and hilarious. The only drawback in this story was some of the British words. It took me a moment to figure out what she meant, but the general idea was caught on. It was easy to follow for the most part. Overall, Pink Champagne and Apple Juice was a great, laid back story with many twists to keep you laughing. The fast paced flow of the wacky story was undeniably fun. I say that if on a rainy day or just when you need to laugh in a ‘The Birdcage’ feel, this book is for you. I recommend for anyone to read this book, and also the mushroom ice cream done by the German chef. He was a riot! Rated 5 Delightful Divas & Recommended Read.”

Many thanks for that, Karen - so glad you enjoyed the read! The other great surprise of this morning was a request from Amber Quill Press to submit something to them - so I've sent them The Gifting and will see what they think. I suspect it may not quite be what they're after, but heck there's no harm in trying, eh.

Meanwhile, the extraordinary miracle has happened and I have actually finished the first edit of Hallsfoot's Battle - well double gosh and hurrahs and somebody pour me a brandy. My next stage is to print it out and send it to The Literary Consultancy, as really I can do nothing remotely decent without them and they are Worth Their Weight in Gold (Capitals Deliberate). Phew though - time for a summer break from novel-writing, I think.

Also today, I have been to my Alexander Technique lady, who tells me off for falling back into bad habits, alas. And there was me thinking I was doing so well ... but hey what do I know? And I've had a lovely chat & tea with the neighbour and his daughter, so am now fully caught up on Life in Godalming, hurrah.

Tonight, I really have to turn my attention to doing a whistlestop clean of the flat, though I am fairly up-to-date with the ironing so at least we are not facing a crumpled weekend. For once. Domestics - they never really go away, do they?...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Short story publication
3. Champers review
4. Publishers requests
5. Finishing the Hallsfoot edit Part One
6. Neighbour chats.

Anne Brooke - having a significant Champagne Moment or two
Vulpes Libris - Adventure Week comes in from the cold

Relaxation, readers and battles

Just had time to fit in a poem before rushing into town this morning, so here it is:

Meditation 186

He speaks in riddles,
puzzles, running phrases
of words whose notes

remind you of beauty
but whose sense cannot
reach you, bewildered

seeker of truth. When
every explanation
imprisons you in the wrong,

leaves you waiting,
ravaged, questioning,
lengthening the song.


But my day really started with a fabulous Clarins massage from Alice in Guildford - honestly I could have lain there all morning. Why can't all days start like that? Soooo relaxing. It set me up for this afternoon when I've been editing the battle scene in Hallsfoot's Battle. Never say I don't live a life of contrasts, eh. But at least I'm not actually fighting. And the edit has gone rather better than expected - I'm about halfway through that 50 page scene now. Yes, I know - 50 pages of fighting! My only excuse is that there's a lot going on and a lot of viewpoints to consider. Including that pesky raven - whose speech patterns are now most definitely off the wall, I have to say. Birds don't really like war. It upsets the colour of the air, you know.

I've also just finished Bernhard Schlink's The Reader on my Coolreader. What an amazing book - I can thoroughly recommend it. Literary and accessible at the same time. With a powerful punch. And really what an astonishing story. The only thing I'd say was that the trial scenes did drag just a bit but the ending more than made up for it. I've been thinking about it on and off all day. I'm glad I haven't watched the film - a fact which must make me the only person left in the whole world, I think, who didn't know the story at all. Shame on me then.

Later this afternoon, I'm off to the last of the Rectory Bible studies before we break for the summer. Not that I've been to that many, as Thursday evening is theatre night if anything's on, but I like to go when I can. I think we're finishing off the First Letter of Peter tonight. Hey, at least I'll know how it ends then.

And I must try and watch New Tricks later on TV, as I've managed to miss both of the previous two episodes due to general busyness and lack of commitment to the i-player. Plus there's Kate Humble's family history to catch up on. Don't tell me what happens!

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Clarins massage
3. Editing Hallsfoot
4. Books
5. Bible study
6. TV.

Anne Brooke - totally chilled, for once
Vulpes Libris - Adventure Week: Rosy Swale is the new Superwoman, no question ...

Flu thoughts, battles and the author at play

Here's this morning's meditation:

Meditation 182

I’ve never been a gardener
so all this talk
of vines, fruition,
destruction, pruning, fire
and the unceasing flow of sap

passes me by
like an east wind,
the flight-filled clouds
or the migration path
of distant, unknowable birds.


Keeping on religious matters, church today was rather strange. We now have a three-line whip from the Powers that Be (who I suspect probably aren't God) that, because of the swine flu threat, we're not allowed to take wine at communion or shake hands with non-related people during the Peace. We were also told not to come to church if we felt ill, and advised that the Rector had washed his hands with anti-bacterial soap before starting the service. It all made me feel distinctly unsettled. What next? Casting people who cough into outer darkness? Beating people who happen to sneeze with twigs?? The plot thickens indeed, but I wonder if we're giving in rather too quickly to media panic?... I may yet have to eat my words (Lordy, that's been known several times at least ...), but it seemed an edict too far to me. We do know how to behave after all. We're all sensible rational human beings. Well, apart from the church attendance of course ...

I've been continuing the edit of Hallsfoot's Battle and am now within spitting distance of the ... um ... actual battle. I must admit it's worrying me a little and I'm holding off from actually getting to that chapter, but I'm going to have to face it at some point. I just think I need to be stronger. Don't wait up.

And this afternoon, Lord H and I have been having great fun with taking more photos of me for use on the web etc. I'm attempting to look like a writer but I fear the worst. New shots of the author at play (ho ho) appear here and here, the latter being the picture where I was admiring my screensave of swimming fish while Lord H was fiddling with his tripod. As you do.

I've now read Vanessa Gebbie's short story collection, Words from a Glass Bubble. I'm hoping to review it for Vulpes Libris once I get my act together, so I won't say much about it now. But what I will say is that it's certainly a mixed bag - some wonderful tales and some definitely not-so-wonderful ones - but more on this to come. I hope.

Tonight, Lord H and I are hoping to watch the first episode of the new Midsomer Murders series which we videoed earlier in the week. Perfect Sunday night viewing indeed. You really can't go wrong with a country location and a good murder or two. And here are this week's haikus - as you get two for the price of one today, you lucky people, you!

I sit on a bench -
the first time I've stopped this week.
Sunlight warms me through.


Between silent tracks
layers of pink and cream stone
remind me of joy.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Editing Hallsfoot
3. A mini photo-shoot
4. Books
5. TV
6. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - I'm ready for my close-up, Mr DeMille ...