Book News:
Much to my delight, Brady's Choice gained an "Excellent" review at Well Read Reviews, and Entertaining the Delaneys received a 5-star review at Literary Nymphs Reviews, so many thanks to both reviewers for their comments.
My review at Vulpes Libris was on Jonathan Kemp's London Triptych, which must be the most unsexy erotic novel I've ever come across. Probably more pornographic than erotic, to be honest, and I certainly didn't take to it. Still (and strangely), many have, so I am obviously a lone voice of dissent in the reviewing wilderness. Again!
My latest meditation is:
Meditation 503
When the work is done
the party starts
so he captures their strength
and then their hearts.
And the Sunday haiku is
Small bright narcissi
dance in the shade of the house
where my neighbour lived.
Life News:
I've had a good haircut this week and played a bad game of golf, so the universe is balanced once more, hurrah. The haircut must have been more radical than I'd thought as I popped in to the local Quaker service again today and they didn't recognise me. Though, on second thoughts, they don't often recognise me, bless them, so I must try to make more of an impression. Perhaps I'm simply too quiet?? No, don't laugh ...
Yesterday, K and I had a lovely day out at The Vyne, near Basingstoke. The gardens and woods were very relaxing though there's not much out yet in terms of flowers. It should be wonderful in two or three weeks or so however. We'd forgotten, in our tour of the house, how keen the National Trust volunteers are in the early part of their season to talk to you and tell you everything they've just learnt. I did have a desperate urge to rugby tackle one sweet old gent just to make him be quiet for a second, but managed to stifle the urge. That said, the volunteer in the Stone Gallery was great and I learnt a lot of interesting stuff about the Kent school that was evacuated to The Vyne during the war. Some fascinating stories there.
And last night, we attended the Guildford Choral Society concert at the Cathedral and cheered on Robin, Gavin, Beryl and Liz (yeah, all!) in their singing endeavours. I enjoyed the Rutter piece in the second half, but thought the first half might have been a tad too relaxing. It was great to catch up at the bar after the show too - it's the first time the Cathedral has left the bar open after the interval's done and I'm sure it's a tradition in the making. One hopes.
Anne Brooke
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label Quakers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quakers. Show all posts
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Snowdrops and silence
Book News:
I now have a new webpage for upcoming literary short story, Dido's Tale, which is due to be published by Bluewood Publishing later this year. You can also read an extract to whet your appetite. Enjoy!
In terms of reviews, How to Eat Fruit gained a 4-star review at Goodreads - many thanks, Dlee. And Brady's Choice gained a lovely review at Amos Lassen Reviews, so many thanks for that, Amos.
This week, you can also find The Bones of Summer is being offered at a 20% discount at Rainbow eBooks, so an ideal opportunity to buy.
You can also find my review of The New Uncanny: Tales of Unease at Vulpes Libris, which is a short story collection guaranteed to add a frisson or two of literary horror to your day. What could be nicer?
The Sunday haiku is:
One green woodpecker,
ant-attracted, waits on grass
dancing with snowdrops.
Life News:
Astonishingly, we have agreed a very reasonable offer on the flat, hurrah a zillion times and put out the bunting! Mr Makeover Man (who will no doubt make our little corner of Surrey look like a mini-Versailles once he's had his way ...) put in an offer, and after a little to-ing and fro-ing we were more than happy to accept. If it all goes through, it'll certainly take a chunk off our mortgage repayments for the Mayford house (assuming that goes through okay also ...). Phew then. So we are now neck-deep or thereabouts in mortgage applications, life insurance, mortgage protection schemes, removal quotes and a hundred and one things to do if you're moving. Yes, I know it's early days but I like to get ahead. Ever hopeful, eh.
Yesterday, K and I had a very relaxing day (which was very much deserved, I must say) admiring the snowdrops at Polesdon Lacey and enjoying a very pleasant lunch as well, and today I have spent an hour in silence at the Quakers again. Well, almost in silence, as my impending cold (arrgghh!!!) meant rather more snivelling than I'd hoped to have. Still the woman sitting in front of me was very courteous about my snuffles and snortings so has no doubt already performed her kind deed of the week. And I have so many kind deeds to catch up with on my own account, alas ...
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Candles, quakers and lesbian romance
Book News:
I'm really pleased to say that A Dangerous Man gained a lovely 5-star review at Goodreads, so many thanks for that, Lisa. I was particularly touched by the comment at the end that:
"A Dangerous Man is a taut psychological thriller that one doesn’t necessarily consume as much as savor. It is too rich and satisfying to finish quickly."
That certainly made me smile. In the meantime, Creative Accountancy for Beginners briefly appeared at No 57 in the Amazon UK Kindle charts, so that was a nice boost too. And, after a month away from it, I have written an extra 2000 words of The Executioner's Cane - and my goodness what a horrendous struggle the first thousand words were. Like climbing a mountain with no oxygen mask and a broken leg. Though why a mountain would need an oxygen mask or indeed legs is anyone's guess, ho ho. Not a pleasant experience then ... Anyway, I'm not sure how good those newly written sections are but at least I have some glimmer of a notion as to where it's all going and as to how Annyeke and Simon might possibly make it all come right. I think the Great Library of Gathandria might even have a part to play, but at this stage nothing's set in stone.
I'm also thrilled to say that Untreed Reads has accepted my literary lesbian romance, A Woman Like The Sea, for publication early this year, so I'm very happy indeed about that. Strangely, it's a story that started out, a few years back, as a heterosexual story but there was something not quite right about it, I couldn't make it work and I've been dissatisfied with it ever since. Last month I looked at it again and thought maybe it would be a lot better, and certainly a lot crisper, if my lead character was a woman. I started rewriting it in that way and the whole thing came together in my head. Ah how astonishing it is when that happens with a story, especially one I feel I've been failing at for so long. Miracles do indeed occur! It's interesting too how I get more responses to announcements about my literary lesbian fiction than I do about all my other fiction put together - perhaps that's the way to go then? ... Certainly, at the moment anyway, I have a few ideas about a lesbian detective story once the Gathandrian Trilogy is finally completed (ye gods, will there ever be such a time?? Seems like a distant mirage, you know!), but we'll see.
Back at Vulpes Libris, you can see what's coming up this week, a mix that includes some interesting confessions, dating for book lovers, and the Beautiful People, so it'll be well worth a visit during your week - promise!
This post's meditations are:
Meditation 480
The feel of silver
between the fingers,
the glitter, the fizz
of it as it slides
seductive as sin
over the skin.
What you could do
with it, the men
you could manipulate,
the history you could change.
Meditation 481
A muddle of names,
dates and facts
bamboozles my memory.
I only hope
God is keeping count
somehow.
The Sunday haiku is:
In this quiet night
stars are messengers of time
and bright memory.
Life News:
I've had a happy dentist experience (hurrah!) when I went to get a filling done on Friday morning, as the usual receptionist and dentist were there, and they're just lovely, so made me feel human again, thank you both! I actually had a very enjoyable time - which is strange to say when you're getting a filling done, for sure - and my teeth are now perfect, hurrah. However, I missed the marvellous Margaret who also makes it all worthwhile but who wasn't working that day, alas, and will have to catch up properly next time. With or without a mouth full of dental implements ...
Yesterday, K and I had lunch at Secretts restaurant in Godalming, which was great and we then wandered around looking at plants. I bought a poinsettia and some extra treats for the orchid, eg orchid food spray and some nice-looking butterfly clips for its stem. Hmm, how girly I am today - is it the lack of drugs? .... However we couldn't find any Yankee Candles, which I was really wanting, but we popped in to another garden centre in Woking and I now have the four candles (or fork handles, though I suspect you have to be British to get that classic and glorious comedy reference ...) I was looking for, hurrah.
This morning, I've had a very enjoyable time being quiet with the Quakers in Godalming. It's a couple of years since I've been but there's something about it that keeps drawing me back, now and then. I think this year I'm going to try to go more often, maybe once a month or so. Talking with the rest of them afterwards was good too - something I thought I'd never say, seeing how much I hate the post-service coffee zone, but actually the conversation was interesting and meant something and wasn't the usual remarks about the weather or traffic that people seem to stay with. On the other hand, perhaps I was simply in the mood to listen more, rather than being stressed out by the concept of socialising - now there's a thought.
Mind you, the obstacles that arose during my attempts to get to the Meeting at all were fun, um not - my face powder somehow managed to explode all over the sink and bathroom tiles, and I had to get the bathroom cleaner out to make it look normal again. Then when I reached the car, running slightly late, someone had broken my wing mirror so I had to go back to the flat to get K's car keys and take his instead. Ah the joys of Sunday morning, eh. Still, K has mended the wing mirror now (what a hero!) and I'll pick up some more face powder during the week, so all is not entirely doom and gloom in the shires. Gosh, how calm I sound - must the be Quakers' influence - or have I been swopped for a nice, cheery alien? Who can tell ...
Anne Brooke
I'm really pleased to say that A Dangerous Man gained a lovely 5-star review at Goodreads, so many thanks for that, Lisa. I was particularly touched by the comment at the end that:
"A Dangerous Man is a taut psychological thriller that one doesn’t necessarily consume as much as savor. It is too rich and satisfying to finish quickly."
That certainly made me smile. In the meantime, Creative Accountancy for Beginners briefly appeared at No 57 in the Amazon UK Kindle charts, so that was a nice boost too. And, after a month away from it, I have written an extra 2000 words of The Executioner's Cane - and my goodness what a horrendous struggle the first thousand words were. Like climbing a mountain with no oxygen mask and a broken leg. Though why a mountain would need an oxygen mask or indeed legs is anyone's guess, ho ho. Not a pleasant experience then ... Anyway, I'm not sure how good those newly written sections are but at least I have some glimmer of a notion as to where it's all going and as to how Annyeke and Simon might possibly make it all come right. I think the Great Library of Gathandria might even have a part to play, but at this stage nothing's set in stone.
I'm also thrilled to say that Untreed Reads has accepted my literary lesbian romance, A Woman Like The Sea, for publication early this year, so I'm very happy indeed about that. Strangely, it's a story that started out, a few years back, as a heterosexual story but there was something not quite right about it, I couldn't make it work and I've been dissatisfied with it ever since. Last month I looked at it again and thought maybe it would be a lot better, and certainly a lot crisper, if my lead character was a woman. I started rewriting it in that way and the whole thing came together in my head. Ah how astonishing it is when that happens with a story, especially one I feel I've been failing at for so long. Miracles do indeed occur! It's interesting too how I get more responses to announcements about my literary lesbian fiction than I do about all my other fiction put together - perhaps that's the way to go then? ... Certainly, at the moment anyway, I have a few ideas about a lesbian detective story once the Gathandrian Trilogy is finally completed (ye gods, will there ever be such a time?? Seems like a distant mirage, you know!), but we'll see.
Back at Vulpes Libris, you can see what's coming up this week, a mix that includes some interesting confessions, dating for book lovers, and the Beautiful People, so it'll be well worth a visit during your week - promise!
This post's meditations are:
Meditation 480
The feel of silver
between the fingers,
the glitter, the fizz
of it as it slides
seductive as sin
over the skin.
What you could do
with it, the men
you could manipulate,
the history you could change.
Meditation 481
A muddle of names,
dates and facts
bamboozles my memory.
I only hope
God is keeping count
somehow.
The Sunday haiku is:
In this quiet night
stars are messengers of time
and bright memory.
Life News:
I've had a happy dentist experience (hurrah!) when I went to get a filling done on Friday morning, as the usual receptionist and dentist were there, and they're just lovely, so made me feel human again, thank you both! I actually had a very enjoyable time - which is strange to say when you're getting a filling done, for sure - and my teeth are now perfect, hurrah. However, I missed the marvellous Margaret who also makes it all worthwhile but who wasn't working that day, alas, and will have to catch up properly next time. With or without a mouth full of dental implements ...
Yesterday, K and I had lunch at Secretts restaurant in Godalming, which was great and we then wandered around looking at plants. I bought a poinsettia and some extra treats for the orchid, eg orchid food spray and some nice-looking butterfly clips for its stem. Hmm, how girly I am today - is it the lack of drugs? .... However we couldn't find any Yankee Candles, which I was really wanting, but we popped in to another garden centre in Woking and I now have the four candles (or fork handles, though I suspect you have to be British to get that classic and glorious comedy reference ...) I was looking for, hurrah.
This morning, I've had a very enjoyable time being quiet with the Quakers in Godalming. It's a couple of years since I've been but there's something about it that keeps drawing me back, now and then. I think this year I'm going to try to go more often, maybe once a month or so. Talking with the rest of them afterwards was good too - something I thought I'd never say, seeing how much I hate the post-service coffee zone, but actually the conversation was interesting and meant something and wasn't the usual remarks about the weather or traffic that people seem to stay with. On the other hand, perhaps I was simply in the mood to listen more, rather than being stressed out by the concept of socialising - now there's a thought.
Mind you, the obstacles that arose during my attempts to get to the Meeting at all were fun, um not - my face powder somehow managed to explode all over the sink and bathroom tiles, and I had to get the bathroom cleaner out to make it look normal again. Then when I reached the car, running slightly late, someone had broken my wing mirror so I had to go back to the flat to get K's car keys and take his instead. Ah the joys of Sunday morning, eh. Still, K has mended the wing mirror now (what a hero!) and I'll pick up some more face powder during the week, so all is not entirely doom and gloom in the shires. Gosh, how calm I sound - must the be Quakers' influence - or have I been swopped for a nice, cheery alien? Who can tell ...
Anne Brooke
Sunday, April 20, 2008
A quiet hour and the return of the wanderer!
A leisurely start to the day, followed by a quiet hour in the Godalming Quakers service. Sometimes it's lovely to relax into silence and have a definite period of thinking/meditation. Words can be such a barrier on occasions. And it's nice to sit while the silence flows by. It's funny but it does have different colours and stages. Like a river. Sometimes it's stretched thin and you can barely see it, and sometimes, it's like a great flood of gold, and there's no rhyme nor reason as to which it might be at any given time. Very strange. Anyway, before I get too carried away with it all, I must say that I do wish they'd make the benches more comfortable. Next time (and now I suspect there probably will be a next time, sometime) I'll sit at the back where the wall is. And maybe take a cushion. I also played it cleverly in that I didn't order a coffee afterwards so I could slip away without talking to too many people. Aha! I am indeed a sociopath.
This afternoon, I've watched my video of "My Name is Earl" and scribbled a bit more to The Bones of Summer. I've left it halfway through a scene that I actually know something about (there's a rarity ...) so when I come back to it I'll know roughly what's going on. That's the plan anyway. I'm also beginning to like the minor character that appears in said scene. I might have him come in earlier in the rewrite maybe - we'll see. Just as long as he doesn't take over the whole story. And, dammit but Pedro (yes, he's definitely a Pedro - Piss-Artist Pedro to his employees, a name used to convey terror and respect in equal measure) is the sort to do just that. I shall have to watch him.
And Lord H is back!!! Hurrah!!! He's had a really good time at his course, but it's always nice to be home. Hurrah again! As a special treat, I've bought Hot Cross Buns and fresh butter for tea, as it's his favourite - thus (a) gaining yet more essential Wife Points, and (b) revealing beyond doubt my northern pre-feminist roots. Sigh.
Anyway, tonight I'm planning to watch "Foyle's War" (ah, Foyle, don't go away for long, we can't bear it without you ...) and video "The Wedding Date", as I love Debra Messing who can Do No Wrong and hey I'm in a romantic comedy mood. Or I will be when I watch it.
And I've read Nick Hornby's latest novel, Slam. Always a writer to rush out and buy, in my opinion, and vastly underrated - but I have to admit it wasn't as good as his last book which was fabulous (I think it was called A Long Way Down). I struggled as this one focused on (a) children and (b) pregnancy. Neither of which are my preferred reading topics. Still, he's a bloody good writer and Sam, his main character, is very well realised. But the women characters are like ghosts that drift in and out of the night - they didn't really seem like characters at all. The men were much better written - I particularly loved Sam's no-hoper yet utterly charming and real father. I longed for there to be more of him. That said, it's a superbly clever plot and I liked the unexpected - and very brave - time shifts, though in my opinion he wimped out of explaining the doctor's visit one the second time round. Shame on you, Mr Hornby - you could have done that if you'd put your mind to it, for sure! Still, as it's Hornby, I'll be buying the next of course.
This week's haiku:
April imitates
November; I look forward
to my winter tan.
Today's nice things:
1. The Quaker hour
2. Lord H's return - hurrah!
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
This afternoon, I've watched my video of "My Name is Earl" and scribbled a bit more to The Bones of Summer. I've left it halfway through a scene that I actually know something about (there's a rarity ...) so when I come back to it I'll know roughly what's going on. That's the plan anyway. I'm also beginning to like the minor character that appears in said scene. I might have him come in earlier in the rewrite maybe - we'll see. Just as long as he doesn't take over the whole story. And, dammit but Pedro (yes, he's definitely a Pedro - Piss-Artist Pedro to his employees, a name used to convey terror and respect in equal measure) is the sort to do just that. I shall have to watch him.
And Lord H is back!!! Hurrah!!! He's had a really good time at his course, but it's always nice to be home. Hurrah again! As a special treat, I've bought Hot Cross Buns and fresh butter for tea, as it's his favourite - thus (a) gaining yet more essential Wife Points, and (b) revealing beyond doubt my northern pre-feminist roots. Sigh.
Anyway, tonight I'm planning to watch "Foyle's War" (ah, Foyle, don't go away for long, we can't bear it without you ...) and video "The Wedding Date", as I love Debra Messing who can Do No Wrong and hey I'm in a romantic comedy mood. Or I will be when I watch it.
And I've read Nick Hornby's latest novel, Slam. Always a writer to rush out and buy, in my opinion, and vastly underrated - but I have to admit it wasn't as good as his last book which was fabulous (I think it was called A Long Way Down). I struggled as this one focused on (a) children and (b) pregnancy. Neither of which are my preferred reading topics. Still, he's a bloody good writer and Sam, his main character, is very well realised. But the women characters are like ghosts that drift in and out of the night - they didn't really seem like characters at all. The men were much better written - I particularly loved Sam's no-hoper yet utterly charming and real father. I longed for there to be more of him. That said, it's a superbly clever plot and I liked the unexpected - and very brave - time shifts, though in my opinion he wimped out of explaining the doctor's visit one the second time round. Shame on you, Mr Hornby - you could have done that if you'd put your mind to it, for sure! Still, as it's Hornby, I'll be buying the next of course.
This week's haiku:
April imitates
November; I look forward
to my winter tan.
Today's nice things:
1. The Quaker hour
2. Lord H's return - hurrah!
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers
Thursday, April 26, 2007
A day of two halves ...
Very up and down today, I must say. In that order. Both me-wise and weather-wise. This morning was good. On all fronts (ho ho). Went into Guildford early and stocked up on underwear at Marks & Spencer. Where would I be without that shop? Today I've been bold and rebellious and actually bought bras that weren't white. Or black. Which are my usual bra colours. No, today I have bought, amongst other items, one pink and one light taupe bra. So I feel wild and free and liberated. Hurrah.
Also had a counselling session with Kunu. As I did things I enjoyed at the weekend, I think she's pleased with me. Though of course I know that isn't the object of the exercise. We talked about shopping and the Quakers, about friends and books. We agreed that perhaps the reason why I've been stuck on the last chapter of The Gifting is that I've been worried for days about whether I should or shouldn't go up to London to see the university gals. Then when I make the decision yesterday not to go, I felt some inner knot untie itself (heck, there's psycho drama for you) and then spent some time late last night telling Lord H what my last chapter would contain. Hell, it all came flooding out, and I had to rush to scribble the notes down. Luckily he has promised to expunge it from his memory so it won't spoil his reading if it ever comes to the page. Zip zip and the memory is gone ... it's amazing how Lord H can do that, y'know. Must be a boy thing.
Anyway, back at the counselling, Kunu is sure there's a link there somewhere. We talked about the uni gang for a while actually, and I think the trouble is that we're all performers to some extent or other. I think we spent a lot of time when we first met pretending things were different than they actually were. Sometimes that particular group friendship is like being on stage and we're all performing our own versions of a play which doesn't quite gel. Maybe over the years we've all changed so much and yet still, whenever we meet, we're back performing our usual roles, come what may. It can make it feel - at least for me - very awkward, and I get very tense and jittery about it all. And yet ... and yet ... I freely admit that, without them, I would never have managed to get through university. Or indeed my early 20s. Where did it all start to change? God knows. Maybe I should invite them all round for my birthday in June and just have a normal chat. Whatever that is. Again, God knows. I'm in two minds. As ever.
Though I have to say in my defence that it's not only me who's decided not to go to London tomorrow - someone else has dropped out to. For reasons more valid than mine. But at least it makes me feel less guilty. Which makes a bloody change then.
After counselling, I popped for tea & chat at Jane H's (hello, Jane!). This was lovely - I really enjoyed it. Sooo relaxing. And we covered so many topics. From recycling (we are both very excited about the new food recycling project in Guildford - my, how "Surrey" we both are indeed! - and I am desperate for it to come to Godalming too ..) to my mother's strange feelings about houses (they have atmospheres, you know), from the children (eat your veggies, little people, and stop pouting ...) to horse-riding, and from Roman soldiers to hearing voices (me, not her, I hasten to add, but then you knew that ...). Talking of which, Jane's mother has also apparently read A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and was desperately worried that I'd had some past trauma that caused me to write such stories and was wanting to know how to help. Jane was able to reassure her, saying apparently that it was only that I heard Michael's voice in my head and just wrote down what he was trying to say. Strangely, this did reassure her - perhaps finding out that I'm probably a complete nutter was not a total surprise ... Still, I was very touched she'd been worried - so thank you, Mrs R.
Also, whilst at Jane's, I ordered some more Nutrimetics (http://www.nutrimetics.co.uk) products, so won't have to worry about running out of same. Hurrah!
Back home, I come to my emails, and was instantly plunged into the slough of despond to realised that my first quarter (ie 13 Feb to end March) sales of ADM have been ... um ... 44. Which Flame Books have now understandably downgraded from good sales to promising sales. To be honest, I'm surprised that anyone should think 44 is good sales, but perhaps they all came in the first two weeks and they were hoping the sudden spurt would continue. Ah well. No, I'm sounding too philosophical now. Actually, I cried, but it did start raining at the same time so at least I'm doing my bit for the ongoing literary tool of pathetic fallacy. To be honest, I was upset as I was hoping it might be in the 80s figure, maybe even more (though that for me would be serious dreamland only 2 months or so after publication). Though, once I'd dried my tears and had a banana, I checked my records and did remember that I've sold 11 copies myself, so have dragged the figure up single-handedly to 55. Hurrah indeed. So, in royalties terms (the 11 sold author copies don't count of course for that), I've made £35.20. Which I won't get of course as they don't, understandably, pay royalties until the figure goes over £100. My, how it makes me laugh when people think I earn money from books. Slap my thighs and build me a garret.
And, if I'm trying to be sensible, I will be lucky if I reach 100 copies sold with this one. Michael is a specialised (and possibly very acquired) taste. Looking back on my past books, The Hit List has only sold 93 in the three years since I published it, and Pink Champagne and Apple Juice (my biggest success so far!) has only sold 105 since last year. So the disappointing sales of ADM are, I suppose, at least par for the course. I pride myself, however, on having round about 40 very discerning readers - to you all, thank you. I hope you might read me again. Small is beautiful indeed. Should any publisher ever be idiotic enough to take yet another chance on me, that is.
Meanwhile, the rain has stopped and the sun is trying to come out. Ye gods, I know how it feels.
And I've done about 1000 words to The Gifting. Which, under the circumstances of feeling like a demolition tool had whacked me in the stomach, is pretty good going, I think! Oh, and bizarrely I've had two emails and two phone calls from the university gang, in various sexes. And I know I should be answering them and being normal in some way but, really, I just can't summon the emotional energy for that right now. Sorry, gang. It's beyond me at the moment.
Tonight, it's the Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) meeting, so I shall keep my head down, have no opinions, agree with everything and just take minutes. I think that's the way through it. And maybe a sherry or two when I get home. Oh yes, please God yes.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Seeing Jane H
3. Writing.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
Also had a counselling session with Kunu. As I did things I enjoyed at the weekend, I think she's pleased with me. Though of course I know that isn't the object of the exercise. We talked about shopping and the Quakers, about friends and books. We agreed that perhaps the reason why I've been stuck on the last chapter of The Gifting is that I've been worried for days about whether I should or shouldn't go up to London to see the university gals. Then when I make the decision yesterday not to go, I felt some inner knot untie itself (heck, there's psycho drama for you) and then spent some time late last night telling Lord H what my last chapter would contain. Hell, it all came flooding out, and I had to rush to scribble the notes down. Luckily he has promised to expunge it from his memory so it won't spoil his reading if it ever comes to the page. Zip zip and the memory is gone ... it's amazing how Lord H can do that, y'know. Must be a boy thing.
Anyway, back at the counselling, Kunu is sure there's a link there somewhere. We talked about the uni gang for a while actually, and I think the trouble is that we're all performers to some extent or other. I think we spent a lot of time when we first met pretending things were different than they actually were. Sometimes that particular group friendship is like being on stage and we're all performing our own versions of a play which doesn't quite gel. Maybe over the years we've all changed so much and yet still, whenever we meet, we're back performing our usual roles, come what may. It can make it feel - at least for me - very awkward, and I get very tense and jittery about it all. And yet ... and yet ... I freely admit that, without them, I would never have managed to get through university. Or indeed my early 20s. Where did it all start to change? God knows. Maybe I should invite them all round for my birthday in June and just have a normal chat. Whatever that is. Again, God knows. I'm in two minds. As ever.
Though I have to say in my defence that it's not only me who's decided not to go to London tomorrow - someone else has dropped out to. For reasons more valid than mine. But at least it makes me feel less guilty. Which makes a bloody change then.
After counselling, I popped for tea & chat at Jane H's (hello, Jane!). This was lovely - I really enjoyed it. Sooo relaxing. And we covered so many topics. From recycling (we are both very excited about the new food recycling project in Guildford - my, how "Surrey" we both are indeed! - and I am desperate for it to come to Godalming too ..) to my mother's strange feelings about houses (they have atmospheres, you know), from the children (eat your veggies, little people, and stop pouting ...) to horse-riding, and from Roman soldiers to hearing voices (me, not her, I hasten to add, but then you knew that ...). Talking of which, Jane's mother has also apparently read A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and was desperately worried that I'd had some past trauma that caused me to write such stories and was wanting to know how to help. Jane was able to reassure her, saying apparently that it was only that I heard Michael's voice in my head and just wrote down what he was trying to say. Strangely, this did reassure her - perhaps finding out that I'm probably a complete nutter was not a total surprise ... Still, I was very touched she'd been worried - so thank you, Mrs R.
Also, whilst at Jane's, I ordered some more Nutrimetics (http://www.nutrimetics.co.uk) products, so won't have to worry about running out of same. Hurrah!
Back home, I come to my emails, and was instantly plunged into the slough of despond to realised that my first quarter (ie 13 Feb to end March) sales of ADM have been ... um ... 44. Which Flame Books have now understandably downgraded from good sales to promising sales. To be honest, I'm surprised that anyone should think 44 is good sales, but perhaps they all came in the first two weeks and they were hoping the sudden spurt would continue. Ah well. No, I'm sounding too philosophical now. Actually, I cried, but it did start raining at the same time so at least I'm doing my bit for the ongoing literary tool of pathetic fallacy. To be honest, I was upset as I was hoping it might be in the 80s figure, maybe even more (though that for me would be serious dreamland only 2 months or so after publication). Though, once I'd dried my tears and had a banana, I checked my records and did remember that I've sold 11 copies myself, so have dragged the figure up single-handedly to 55. Hurrah indeed. So, in royalties terms (the 11 sold author copies don't count of course for that), I've made £35.20. Which I won't get of course as they don't, understandably, pay royalties until the figure goes over £100. My, how it makes me laugh when people think I earn money from books. Slap my thighs and build me a garret.
And, if I'm trying to be sensible, I will be lucky if I reach 100 copies sold with this one. Michael is a specialised (and possibly very acquired) taste. Looking back on my past books, The Hit List has only sold 93 in the three years since I published it, and Pink Champagne and Apple Juice (my biggest success so far!) has only sold 105 since last year. So the disappointing sales of ADM are, I suppose, at least par for the course. I pride myself, however, on having round about 40 very discerning readers - to you all, thank you. I hope you might read me again. Small is beautiful indeed. Should any publisher ever be idiotic enough to take yet another chance on me, that is.
Meanwhile, the rain has stopped and the sun is trying to come out. Ye gods, I know how it feels.
And I've done about 1000 words to The Gifting. Which, under the circumstances of feeling like a demolition tool had whacked me in the stomach, is pretty good going, I think! Oh, and bizarrely I've had two emails and two phone calls from the university gang, in various sexes. And I know I should be answering them and being normal in some way but, really, I just can't summon the emotional energy for that right now. Sorry, gang. It's beyond me at the moment.
Tonight, it's the Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) meeting, so I shall keep my head down, have no opinions, agree with everything and just take minutes. I think that's the way through it. And maybe a sherry or two when I get home. Oh yes, please God yes.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Seeing Jane H
3. Writing.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Neighbours, Quakers and Olympic slumping
Managed to catch up with the neighbours opposite this morning while I was sorting the cars out - they're very sweet but they're the kind who find my writing life distinctly weird (as indeed do Marian & Siegi, our golfing friends), so I've learnt - as with M. & S. - not to bring it into the conversation when asked what I've been up to. So I've caught up on holiday news (not sure when the next will be yet), the daughter's wedding (quiet but pleasant) and her ensuing pregnancy (due in June, but gender unknown). I am now the perfectly informed street resident.
I also went along to the Quaker meeting this morning - Lord H wasn't keen so I went on my own, but actually that was fine. It was a warm silence (if you know what I mean) and I enjoyed it - though I could have done with my stomach being rather less vocal. Never mind - I wasn't the only one. And the few words spoken in the last half-hour were interesting too. As was the fact that there were two or three people present near my age. I'm sure last time I went, most of the folk were 50+. Mind you, I'm not so far from that myself these days! Afterwards, I chatted with Ruth, one of the elders there, and then slipped out for a pleasant walk along the High Street to the car. Weather is glorious today. Bought a "Mail on Sunday" too, so am now up-to-date with national, as well as local gossip. Hurrah. Anyway, I think I'll go again, depending how I feel.
This afternoon, I have been laziness personified. We've watched our video of "QI" from yesterday - Stephen Fry on top form as ever, though I'm sure it was a repeat - and I've also watched "Ugly Betty". Betty on top form as ever also. This was rapidly followed by an utterly essential nap on the sofa (how I love that feeling of being all curled up and safe!). And the only thing I have to face now is my phone call to Mother. Later tonight, there's a new series starting - "Kingdom" with - once again! - Stephen Fry, so Lord H & I will be glued. Tales of peculiarity from downtown Norfolk - sounds like perfect Sunday night viewing to me. And it's only an hour, so we can be in bed for a reasonable time. Double hurrah. After all, it is a "school night". Groan ...
This week's haiku is:
On my daily walk,
cherry blossom lines the road,
scented with summer.
Today's nice things:
1. The Quaker service
2. Soaking up the newspaper gossip
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
I also went along to the Quaker meeting this morning - Lord H wasn't keen so I went on my own, but actually that was fine. It was a warm silence (if you know what I mean) and I enjoyed it - though I could have done with my stomach being rather less vocal. Never mind - I wasn't the only one. And the few words spoken in the last half-hour were interesting too. As was the fact that there were two or three people present near my age. I'm sure last time I went, most of the folk were 50+. Mind you, I'm not so far from that myself these days! Afterwards, I chatted with Ruth, one of the elders there, and then slipped out for a pleasant walk along the High Street to the car. Weather is glorious today. Bought a "Mail on Sunday" too, so am now up-to-date with national, as well as local gossip. Hurrah. Anyway, I think I'll go again, depending how I feel.
This afternoon, I have been laziness personified. We've watched our video of "QI" from yesterday - Stephen Fry on top form as ever, though I'm sure it was a repeat - and I've also watched "Ugly Betty". Betty on top form as ever also. This was rapidly followed by an utterly essential nap on the sofa (how I love that feeling of being all curled up and safe!). And the only thing I have to face now is my phone call to Mother. Later tonight, there's a new series starting - "Kingdom" with - once again! - Stephen Fry, so Lord H & I will be glued. Tales of peculiarity from downtown Norfolk - sounds like perfect Sunday night viewing to me. And it's only an hour, so we can be in bed for a reasonable time. Double hurrah. After all, it is a "school night". Groan ...
This week's haiku is:
On my daily walk,
cherry blossom lines the road,
scented with summer.
Today's nice things:
1. The Quaker service
2. Soaking up the newspaper gossip
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Counselling, competitions and the curse of the TV
Bit slow this morning, so had to dash to get to my counselling session (http://www.castlestreetclinic.com/). Must say that Kunu had a lovely summer skirt on - I was really impressed, but didn't dare say anything in case she thought I was being more weird than normal. Or maybe she's just used to that by now? Anyway, we had a good session, better than last week, I think. We talked about my weekend of silence, and how Lord H and I communicate differently and want very different things. Well, that's something I've known for a while but it's good to talk about it to someone else.
We also talked about faith, how I felt about possibly going to the Quakers and whether I thought that I might not go anywhere for a while in fact. Again, all subjects I've mulled over myself, but it's great to get them into the open. She asked me what I thought my faith actually was, and I tried to say that really it's what it isn't and what it might be that helps me most. Sometimes it feels as if my beliefs are a huge shadowy thing lurking underneath or to the side which I can occasionally glimpse, but if you try to grasp it or label it, it simply vanishes. It's only by not looking that you sometimes see, I think.
Funnily enough, (and bear with me, because it does make sense in the end ...) I think "Foyle's War" on Sunday was helpful - the police station spent two hours trying to solve a card trick where they had to form a swastika (or fylfot in its original 15th century Christian form, before the Nazis ruined it) with only four cards. They failed. Then Foyle told them to look at the background behind the shape of the cards rather than the cards themselves, and the problem was solved. That's what I feel about faith, I think - it's not the words which count, but what's behind them. I've spent long hours in churches over the years saying the words and doing the actions, but all the time the phrase, "this isn't what I believe or at least how I best express it" is jangling through my head. Trying to express my beliefs in words is like trying to put an elephant into a suit made for a mouse. It's just not bloody possible.
Also, it's similar to what I feel about facts and the truth. For me, the two things are very different, and truth isn't found in whatever facts are flying around at the time. I've tried to explain my opinion on this to people once or twice and always received the brush-off, but I still believe it. The truth of a person, the real truth, isn't found in the facts. People are more important than that. Which is why, I think, that when people - or I - lie about myself or lie in some other area (and I do - don't we all?), the lie may not be the facts, but it might well be the truth. In a deeper sense. We're all bigger than the sum of our parts. That, for me, is what faith is. Anyway, I think Kunu got my meaning, but God knows how she's going to write all that up ...
Back home, and armed with the Radio Times and a fresh wad of much-needed cash, I've been sorting out this month's competition entries, which include my poetry and novel entries for this year's Writers' Conference (http://www.writersconference.co.uk) - the brochure arrived yesterday, and I've had fun choosing my seminars and trying for a couple of one-to-ones with editors also. Ye gods, there's always hope. I'm putting both Thorn in the Flesh and The Gifting into the novel competition, but highly doubt Piatkus Press will be that into either. Way too violent in the former case for them, and way too much gay fantasy in the latter. I fear it's a waste of £7 (£7!!! Those entry fees get higher every year, I swear!). But there you go.
That done, I popped over to see Gladys, who is very frail and confused today, but did at least know who I am. Ye gods, she's one up on me then. We spent a pleasant hour finding the Radio Times (again!) and her trusty calendar to see if we could work out what day it was, and then I showed her how to turn on her television, as she'd forgotten. Can't say I blame her on either count, to be honest. Besides they don't make TVs simple these days. The remote control has way too many buttons on for normal folk. They should make something easier to operate - what is wrong with these companies!?
Tonight, I must try to do some more to The Gifting, as I'm beginning to get that pull. Like a long wire being drawn in from my chest towards my pad of paper. God, maybe I am weird. No wonder nobody (except Julia - thanks, Julia (http://www.myspace.com/juleswalker!) answers my emails. Oh, and there's "Sea of Souls" later on TV, so Lord H and I will have to watch that. He's always so hopeful it will end happily, and always so let down when it doesn't. Ah well.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Browsing through the conference brochure
3. Watching TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
We also talked about faith, how I felt about possibly going to the Quakers and whether I thought that I might not go anywhere for a while in fact. Again, all subjects I've mulled over myself, but it's great to get them into the open. She asked me what I thought my faith actually was, and I tried to say that really it's what it isn't and what it might be that helps me most. Sometimes it feels as if my beliefs are a huge shadowy thing lurking underneath or to the side which I can occasionally glimpse, but if you try to grasp it or label it, it simply vanishes. It's only by not looking that you sometimes see, I think.
Funnily enough, (and bear with me, because it does make sense in the end ...) I think "Foyle's War" on Sunday was helpful - the police station spent two hours trying to solve a card trick where they had to form a swastika (or fylfot in its original 15th century Christian form, before the Nazis ruined it) with only four cards. They failed. Then Foyle told them to look at the background behind the shape of the cards rather than the cards themselves, and the problem was solved. That's what I feel about faith, I think - it's not the words which count, but what's behind them. I've spent long hours in churches over the years saying the words and doing the actions, but all the time the phrase, "this isn't what I believe or at least how I best express it" is jangling through my head. Trying to express my beliefs in words is like trying to put an elephant into a suit made for a mouse. It's just not bloody possible.
Also, it's similar to what I feel about facts and the truth. For me, the two things are very different, and truth isn't found in whatever facts are flying around at the time. I've tried to explain my opinion on this to people once or twice and always received the brush-off, but I still believe it. The truth of a person, the real truth, isn't found in the facts. People are more important than that. Which is why, I think, that when people - or I - lie about myself or lie in some other area (and I do - don't we all?), the lie may not be the facts, but it might well be the truth. In a deeper sense. We're all bigger than the sum of our parts. That, for me, is what faith is. Anyway, I think Kunu got my meaning, but God knows how she's going to write all that up ...
Back home, and armed with the Radio Times and a fresh wad of much-needed cash, I've been sorting out this month's competition entries, which include my poetry and novel entries for this year's Writers' Conference (http://www.writersconference.co.uk) - the brochure arrived yesterday, and I've had fun choosing my seminars and trying for a couple of one-to-ones with editors also. Ye gods, there's always hope. I'm putting both Thorn in the Flesh and The Gifting into the novel competition, but highly doubt Piatkus Press will be that into either. Way too violent in the former case for them, and way too much gay fantasy in the latter. I fear it's a waste of £7 (£7!!! Those entry fees get higher every year, I swear!). But there you go.
That done, I popped over to see Gladys, who is very frail and confused today, but did at least know who I am. Ye gods, she's one up on me then. We spent a pleasant hour finding the Radio Times (again!) and her trusty calendar to see if we could work out what day it was, and then I showed her how to turn on her television, as she'd forgotten. Can't say I blame her on either count, to be honest. Besides they don't make TVs simple these days. The remote control has way too many buttons on for normal folk. They should make something easier to operate - what is wrong with these companies!?
Tonight, I must try to do some more to The Gifting, as I'm beginning to get that pull. Like a long wire being drawn in from my chest towards my pad of paper. God, maybe I am weird. No wonder nobody (except Julia - thanks, Julia (http://www.myspace.com/juleswalker!) answers my emails. Oh, and there's "Sea of Souls" later on TV, so Lord H and I will have to watch that. He's always so hopeful it will end happily, and always so let down when it doesn't. Ah well.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Browsing through the conference brochure
3. Watching TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Counselling, virtual worlds and a wasp battle
Had to get up at a non-writers time today (ie before 9am - ye gods, how will I survive the length of the day?...) in order to get to my Counselling appointment this morning. We talked about families and church. So no change there then. But I have now got to the point when I realise that, for the moment, I'm not going to go back to St Peter's. And I'm not looking for another CofE church to replace them either. Hell, it feels like a decision, and it also feels as if I'm finally - at least in one small part of life - attempting to be me and make my own choices. Rather than attempting to please everyone else and do what is expected. I may well go to the local Quaker meeting in Godalming this Sunday, but it will depend on how I feel on the day. We'll see. It is interesting though that last week I did finally get round to opening the bumph the Quakers sent me a couple of months ago. The envelope has been lurking at the side of the sofa for so long that I was starting to forget about it entirely. But it's open now, and even partially read. Again, we'll see.
Kunu's parting shot this morning was to say that I should look into enjoying more in life, rather than being hung up with achieving lots. She's said it before, I know, but it doesn't come easily. Maybe my achievement conveyor-belt lifestyle is what's stopping me being me, properly at least. Hmm, another thought to ponder a while. I fear. Anyway, whilst in town, I mooched around Marks & Spencer for a while, wondering where all the lovely things they show us on TV are actually kept, and failing to find them. Asking an assistant is way too much commitment. But I did find some nice t-shirts for £5, and in a 3-for-2 offer, so may well pop back in on Saturday to make real-live purchases. If it comes under my new enjoyment quota, that is.
At home, I've typed up more of the current scene from The Gifting onto the computer. And I know where that part of the book is going now, so that's clarified things for me. Just have to write the ruddy stuff really. Once again, a slower writing day today, but it's - hell - enjoyable.
I've also broken my one last connection with St Peter's; I've cancelled my standing order to them, emailed the church treasurer to tell him this (though I don't expect any reply, as these days it seems that neither church people nor my old university set have the courtesy to answer any of my missives any more. At least not in ways I can understand, bitch bitch!...). In its place, I've sent off a form to give regular payments to the Yvonne Arnaud theatre (http://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk) in Guildford. Well, I've worked out that I get far more enjoyment from the theatre than I do from the church, so what the hell, eh.
This afternoon, I paid Gladys a short visit - she was worrying about dandelions in the garden and a small fallen tree, but has a man coming on Monday to sort it out. I'm always a great approver of men who come to sort things out. A wonderful and dying breed. Sadly. Also, I was incredibly brave (for me) as there was a nasty looking wasp in her living room whilst we were talking, and I managed to (a) not scream and run sobbing from her house, and (b) get rid of it through the window for her. Really, I'm astonished at myself. It's probably my Courage Quota for the month. Maybe even the year. And please God don't let there be the swarms of wasps there were last year - I really can't stand it! It's like being invaded. In my own home too. Damn it.
Ooh, and Flame Books (http://www.flamebooks.com) have joined Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/flamebooks) and sent me a Friends invite. Thanks, Sean! Much appreciated, and welcome to the strange virtual world we all dwell in these days. Sadly though, so far I seem to be Sean's only friend, so I hope his social calendar fills up soon. If Michael had a Myspace profile, I'd send him round at once, of course.
Talking of virtual worlds, I must admit that I have times of getting really fed up with the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) world these days. It is (or it was) a good site, and the Groups are great, but I think the forums are getting way too cumbersome and sometimes downright unfriendly these days. Possibly it might be a victim of its own success, which is a shame. Recently I've found myself trying not to get involved with it quite so much, and I definitely feel far less supported on there than I used to be. There's just too many people, and the personal touch has gone, to my mind. Though I really don't want to leave it entirely, especially as parts of the site are incredibly useful, actually I feel far happier on Myspace, to be honest.
And I've just finished reading Jed Rubenfeld's The Interpretation of Murder. Marvellous novel - a pleasure to read, although I do think it was rather too convoluted, especially towards the end. But that doesn't matter, as the characters are just so hot, and it's got some top-notch one liners. A delight really. Go out and read it before they make the film.
Tonight, I'm planning some more scribbling, and it's Catherine Tate on TV later. Bliss. I love her. We redheads must stick together. I always admire a woman with attitude. Bliss.
Today's nice things:
1. Writing
2. Winning a battle with a wasp - for once
3. The pleasures of Rubenfeld's book.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Kunu's parting shot this morning was to say that I should look into enjoying more in life, rather than being hung up with achieving lots. She's said it before, I know, but it doesn't come easily. Maybe my achievement conveyor-belt lifestyle is what's stopping me being me, properly at least. Hmm, another thought to ponder a while. I fear. Anyway, whilst in town, I mooched around Marks & Spencer for a while, wondering where all the lovely things they show us on TV are actually kept, and failing to find them. Asking an assistant is way too much commitment. But I did find some nice t-shirts for £5, and in a 3-for-2 offer, so may well pop back in on Saturday to make real-live purchases. If it comes under my new enjoyment quota, that is.
At home, I've typed up more of the current scene from The Gifting onto the computer. And I know where that part of the book is going now, so that's clarified things for me. Just have to write the ruddy stuff really. Once again, a slower writing day today, but it's - hell - enjoyable.
I've also broken my one last connection with St Peter's; I've cancelled my standing order to them, emailed the church treasurer to tell him this (though I don't expect any reply, as these days it seems that neither church people nor my old university set have the courtesy to answer any of my missives any more. At least not in ways I can understand, bitch bitch!...). In its place, I've sent off a form to give regular payments to the Yvonne Arnaud theatre (http://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk) in Guildford. Well, I've worked out that I get far more enjoyment from the theatre than I do from the church, so what the hell, eh.
This afternoon, I paid Gladys a short visit - she was worrying about dandelions in the garden and a small fallen tree, but has a man coming on Monday to sort it out. I'm always a great approver of men who come to sort things out. A wonderful and dying breed. Sadly. Also, I was incredibly brave (for me) as there was a nasty looking wasp in her living room whilst we were talking, and I managed to (a) not scream and run sobbing from her house, and (b) get rid of it through the window for her. Really, I'm astonished at myself. It's probably my Courage Quota for the month. Maybe even the year. And please God don't let there be the swarms of wasps there were last year - I really can't stand it! It's like being invaded. In my own home too. Damn it.
Ooh, and Flame Books (http://www.flamebooks.com) have joined Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/flamebooks) and sent me a Friends invite. Thanks, Sean! Much appreciated, and welcome to the strange virtual world we all dwell in these days. Sadly though, so far I seem to be Sean's only friend, so I hope his social calendar fills up soon. If Michael had a Myspace profile, I'd send him round at once, of course.
Talking of virtual worlds, I must admit that I have times of getting really fed up with the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) world these days. It is (or it was) a good site, and the Groups are great, but I think the forums are getting way too cumbersome and sometimes downright unfriendly these days. Possibly it might be a victim of its own success, which is a shame. Recently I've found myself trying not to get involved with it quite so much, and I definitely feel far less supported on there than I used to be. There's just too many people, and the personal touch has gone, to my mind. Though I really don't want to leave it entirely, especially as parts of the site are incredibly useful, actually I feel far happier on Myspace, to be honest.
And I've just finished reading Jed Rubenfeld's The Interpretation of Murder. Marvellous novel - a pleasure to read, although I do think it was rather too convoluted, especially towards the end. But that doesn't matter, as the characters are just so hot, and it's got some top-notch one liners. A delight really. Go out and read it before they make the film.
Tonight, I'm planning some more scribbling, and it's Catherine Tate on TV later. Bliss. I love her. We redheads must stick together. I always admire a woman with attitude. Bliss.
Today's nice things:
1. Writing
2. Winning a battle with a wasp - for once
3. The pleasures of Rubenfeld's book.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
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