Slow Sunday

Not much to report this weekend, I must say. I've spent the whole time indoors, attempting to get well. I think I feel marginally better today, so that's something, hurrah. I've spent a lot of the afternoons over the last three days asleep. Obviously the team awayday on Thursday was rather more traumatic than I'd anticipated, ah well - I blame it for everything, you know ...

However, the good news is that I've reached the 10,000 word marker in The Executioner's Cane and vaguely know where I might be heading in the scene I'm in. Vaguely.

I enjoyed Strictly Come Dancing yesterday - lovely to see Chris & Ola in the final, though I have to admit that actually for the first time I did vote for Ricky & Natalie. On the grounds that it would be supremely unfair if Ricky didn't make the final. I am indeed a Voting Tart.

Apart from that, there's been a hell of a lot of snorting and groaning, and a hell of a lot of Lemsips, Sudafed, Beecham's Flu Plus and my anti-allergy range of tablets have been taken. Shake me and I'd rattle.

Only six more days of work before the Christmas break, hey ho.

Here's this week's haiku:

The dull threat of snow
fills my throat with heaviness.
Winter in the skin.

Anne's website - down but not quite out ...

Book of the Year and Sick Sunday

Once again a busy few days to catch up on. I'm pleased to say that I'm now at the 8,000 word marker in The Executioner's Cane, and already in the middle of a death scene (whose, I'm not saying) - though I must admit I'm not writing in linear order. Linear writing is so last year, ho ho ...

In other writing news, I'm pleased to say that my first reader for short story, Two Christmases, has enjoyed it (thank you, Sarah!) and particularly commented on the voice of my main character, Danny. I fear Danny's voice is still echoing in my head so there may be more to come from him. You never know. It's also great that Elly, one of my poetry course colleagues, has bought the first copy of Salt and Gold, so I'm hugely grateful for that. Thank you, Elly! I was starting to worry that the sum total of my sales for that one would be zero. Arrgghh!! Now, only another 10 copies to sell and I'll have beaten my run for previous poetry book, A Stranger's Table - though I fear if I get to double figures a second time in my poetry sales, my place as Worst Selling Poet in the History of Time will, alas, be irretrievably lost. Ah well.

And Amazon US are finally selling copies of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice in its brand-new cover, which you can find here. And I was equally happy to see The Bones of Summer was for a short time at Number 82 in the Amazon US gay fiction charts this morning (sadly, now no more ...), well gosh. Thank you, kind buyer, whoever you are - and I do hope you enjoy the read!

Finally, to cap all this literary excitement, you can find my personal Book of the Year choice here. It's a damn classy read, so do pop in, find out what it is and give it a go. I can thoroughly recommend it!

Ooh and I mustn't forget that the lovely Shanta Everington has an article on the pleasures and pains of writing (with some input from me - thanks, Shanta - but let's hope none of my church contacts are reading this!) which you can find here. Another read I'm sure you'll enjoy.

In the non-writing world (which still exists somewhere in my head, I'm sure), I played some rather chilly and very bad golf on Friday - so bad that Marian actually won, shock horror! The only high point for me was chipping in from off the green on the 4th. Result! Sadly downhill from there, I fear - my attempts at second shots were just shameful. Still, at least while I was playing, the boys from the club cleaned my car inside and out so I am now wonderfully sparkly and new, hurrah.

Yesterday, we spent a wonderful day with Peter & Sue - a surprise visitation for Peter's birthday - happy birthday, Peter! - and had a lovely time wandering around Polesdon Lacey, plus an excellent lunch. We also managed to squeeze in a smidgeon of birdwatching and caught sight of a fieldfare - our first of this year, double hurrahs. I was starting to wonder if we'd see any at all, so am glad to be proved wrong.

Sadly though, Lord H was as sick as a dog yesterday, and has passed on the marital illness to me today, so we are all snorting like dying horses and and quaffing the Lemsips and Lucozade. What a jolly Sunday indeed - I just hope we didn't infect anyone yesterday ... Not a birthday gift anyone would want, I fear. Keep taking the Vitamin C is what I advise.

This week's haiku is:

Grey heron rises,
legs trailing slow promises
and one dancing fish.

Anne Brooke - where books are guaranteed infection-free

Mistletoe Madness and the joys of serin

A veritable sack of goodies to catch up on as we finally arrive at Advent (well, it starts officially today, really). First off, Dreamspinner Press have the last couple of days of huge discounts on the Mistletoe Madness Christmas Anthology, so now is the time to buy if you were planning to. You can find out more about the included stories here, one of which is my own Two Christmases. These will be available for individual purchase from December too, so I'm looking forward to that.

Keeping to the writing news for a while, I'm very happy that The Bones of Summer managed an Amazon UK placing in GLBT fiction which it even held onto for a day or so, so that was very satisfying. At the same time it gained a five-star review at Goodreads, so thanks for that, Kassa! Much appreciated.

Meanwhile, Maloney's Law also managed to get into the giddy heights of an Amazon UK placement for a while, and if you've forgotten what the main themes of that one are, here's the book trailer to remind you. An advent gift indeed. At the same time, I've passed the 5000 word marker in The Executioner's Cane so am, as they say, on the road to somewhere. My new character there is Jemelda, the Lammas Lord's cook and she certainly packs a punch. I'm loving her.

Out in the real world, I'm thrilled to say that Lord H and I have finally spotted a serin and what a gorgeous little bird it is too. Here's a lovely picture of one which was kindly sent to me in celebration of our wonderful birding achievement by Elly. Thanks, Elly!

Oh, and wasn't Chris & Ola's Charleston on Strictly just the best dance of the night? I loved it! In case you missed it or want to revisit its utter delights, here it is again. Just wonderful. And so very them.

This week's haiku:

When considering
Christmas, I find I prefer
Advent's subtlety.


Anne Brooke - creating some mistletoe madness of her own

A Stranger's Touch and The Executioner's Cane

Well, gosh, it's been a wild weekend for writing news, I can tell you! Where do I start?? First off, I have a brand-new web page for my upcoming short story, A Stranger's Touch, plus an extract from the beginning. It's due out in eBook version on 24 January 2010, so should warm the chilly New Year, I hope. Here's the glorious cover art provided by Amber Quill Press:



Ain't it grand? I am soooo pleased with it I am virtually frothing at the mouth (hell, what an unpleasant image ...). Huge thanks to Trace Edward Zaber who produced it! Here's the blurb:

Male prostitute, Red, is given an assignment by his pimp and lover, Robbie, with a very unusual client. Red meets the stranger in a darkened house in London and, during their sessions, he learns more than he ever knew about lust, love and his own personal history. How will his curious and life-enhancing encounters with the stranger affect his relationship with Robbie and his clients, and can love ever be part of a hooker's life at all?

Equally fabulous news is that Amber Quill Press have accepted The Hit List for eBook and paperback publication in Spring 2010, hurrah! Still frothing at the mouth then - sorry ... So I've updated my web page here. No cover art as yet, but I'm very much looking forward to what Trace will come up with.

Finally, on the writing front, I've added in a new web page for The Executioner's Cane, together with an extract, so I'm on the way with that one at last. Hurrah!

Phew! Can the weekend actually get any better? All I really need is for someone to say yes to The Gifting, for Waterstone's to ring me up begging me to do a signing for them (as if ...), and for Mondays to be cancelled everywhere, and my happiness would be complete. Keep wishing, eh.

Earlier in the week, Lord H and I also popped over to the dreaded Car Parking Hell that is Woking and saw Matthew Bourne's latest ballet, Dorian Gray. Hmm. All very clever, but not a patch on the joys and heartfelt emotions of the male Swan Lake, which has to be Bourne's best ballet yet. Heck, I could watch that one loads of times and never get bored. For this one, I thought there wasn't enough colour on the stage or indeed plot, though the dancing was magnificent. You can't ever emulate Wilde's magnificent prose in a non-writing format really. If you see what I mean. And I actually did find myself wishing the menfolk would put some clothes on and stop simulating sex on stage quite so much - they must have been freezing, poor things, and it was putting me off my mint choc ice. The aircon in the theatre packs one hell of a punch. Am I turning into my grandmother after all?? God forbid.

And, mixing religion with sex (as ever), Lord H and I have had great fun sorting out the post-church coffees this morning. Ah, if only they knew what I'd been up to during the week in terms of literary and dramatic eroticism, perhaps they wouldn't be quite so keen on having us smiling like little devils at the back, eh. Oh well.

Anne's website - where sex and religion meet together

Full steam ahead and the breakfast sonnet

My review on Thomas Keneally's The People's Train (he also wrote Schindler's Ark) is now up at Vulpes Libris. A challenging journey indeed ...

In other writing news, I'm pleased to say that the lovely people on my online writing course seemed to have enjoyed my attempt at the sonnet form, though I fear it carries a hint of desperation in its innards. Here it is:

The Struggling Sonneteer

All through breakfast I try to rhyme
but cereals are not known for verse.
The sonnet mountain’s too hard to climb
and this first stanza could not be worse.

At lunch a sandwich fires the brain –
there’s much that is soothing in tuna and bread
but nothing inspires this second quatrain
and my poetic heart is full of dread.

Finally dinner arrives on the table;
pizza and ice cream’s a culinary bliss.
But the poem befits neither fact nor fable
and a glug of wine simply tells me this:

that the sonnet form is not my friend,
but look! At last we’ve reached the end.


Ah well. I fear it's not Shakespeare, but then nothing ever is, eh. I also see that the Poetry School are doing another online course starting in January which looks very interesting, so I might well sign up for that if there's space, even though it's on a Monday. And, as you know, Mondays are Not My Best Day.

I'm also pleased to say that my contract for A Stranger's Touch from Amber Quill Press arrived yesterday, so I've signed a copy and sent it back to them today (or at least Lord H is doing the actual sending, Gawd bless him). And I've even remembered to include a copy of my US tax form details in the package - Lordy, how efficient I am, ho ho. I must also say I'm hugely impressed with their professionalism and efficiency - they even included an addressed envelope for me to use, which has never happened before. I felt bizarrely touched by that. Which probably just goes to show what a Sad Desperate Writer I really am. But, hell, you knew that.

Other hot news is that I've written the first 1000 words of The Executioner's Cane (Part Three in the Gathandrian Trilogy, for those at the back not paying attention) and am happy with the current direction it's travelling in. So far. I think this one's going to have a fair amount about fathers in it - both Ralph and Simon have difficult relationships with their absent fathers. Of course I can sympathise with that issue (though one cannot blame one's parent for dying, I suppose), which is why I imagine quite a few of my novels have fathers in them. There you go. I am just writing myself over and over again. Dammit.

Oh, and the big excitement of the day is that I scored 10 out of 10 in the Strictly Come Dancing quiz. 10 out of 10!!! I can't believe how very very happy I am about it. It's the best thing that's happened all week! Lordy but I'm sad.

Anne's sad life can be found in all its glory here

Speaking Her Mind and other matters

Goodness me, what a stormy day it is here in southern England - I hope you're all surviving the experience and keeping dry. I was foolish enough to venture out this morning for a paper and some lunch, and everyone seemed very bad-tempered. Must be the wind. As it were. I came home all peculiar and had to have chocolate to cheer up. Not much change there then.

Anyway, to provide a moment of warmth and cheer in the midst of all this weather gloom, I'm pleased to say that my romantic short story, Speaking Her Mind, can now be read at the Chick Lit Review. Which just goes to show that I do have lighter moods on occasions.

Also, much to my surprise, I've written the first 500 words (including an ending I might even be happy with when I finally arrive there ...) of the final part in my Gathandrian trilogy. The working title is The Executioner's Cane, but I'll have to see if that stays or not. It's hard to tell at this stage. Anyway, it's a surprise to have started as I was planning not to even touch the beast until January, but Simon and Ralph have been snipping away at my head and I have finally given in to them. Never say I'm in control of the writing game, because I am most definitely not.

Anne.