Gifts, birthdays and gay marriage

Book News:

Epic gay fantasy The Gifting is now available in all formats at Smashwords and Omnilit Books (where you can also read through the first chapter) at the bargain price of only $0.99 or 65p. Here's a quick reminder of the blurb together with a couple of reviews it's garnered in its previous life:

Simon Hartstongue is a mind-reader, and branded a coward and a murderer. When his overlord and lover Ralph Tregannon turns against him, he is forced to embark on a treacherous journey to the distant and magical land of Gathandria in order to save his country and his own soul. During a series of terrifying trials, Simon must encounter the trickery of the deadly Mind Executioner and the secret dealings of those he ought to trust.

"The Gifting is a unique fantasy where mental and physical worlds merge in a flight of unrestrained imagination. Unlike much fantasy I've read lately, this book soars with hope. It's a story of redemption gained through a mystical journey through earth, air, fire and water that tests the deepest recesses of a man's soul." (Awesome Indies Reviews)

"The Gifting is merely the introduction to the Gathandrian Trilogy; it's a big world, filled with intrigues and magic, loss and redemption. It's a fantastical place where almost anything is possible, where a coward can become a hero, where the promise for more excitement and enchantment are guaranteed, and I look forward to seeing where Anne Brooke will take us next, as well as discovering what Simon's future holds." (Top2Bottom Reviews)

It's quite interesting that in the two years this book was with a small publisher, it managed to sell the grand total of 20 copies, even with being showcased by the Awesome Indies website (see above review comments) - but now I've self published it, I've sold 16 copies in the first week. Not bad going really. A lesson to ponder on, that's for sure!

Gay mystery The Bones of Summer (Maloney *2) is also featured over at the Amber Allure Blog, so do feel free to pop in for a visit at any time.

And as June is Pride Month, all my gay titles have a 25% discount at Amber Allure Press, and my lesbian titles carry a 30% discount at Untreed Reads for the whole month. Happy shopping!






Life News:

The Anglican leadership has been playing silly devils with us all again (surprise, surprise ...) over the issue of equal marriage. I was immensely proud to take part in the Equal Marriage Rally outside the House of Lords on Monday, and only wish I'd had a flag to wave during the event. Or even a jazzy umbrella like the one Peter Tatchell is holding in the picture.

So I was utterly thrilled when the bill passed through the House of Lords with such a strong majority - and not all all surprised (though deeply angered and ashamed) when of the 14 Anglican Bishops present in the House on the occasion, 9 voted against the Bill and 5 abstained (even those who'd spoken for it). However it was lovely to realise that, by the grace of God, the Lords are thankfully well able to save us from the spiritual cowardice of the Bishops.

Anyway, as a result, I wrote an open letter to the Archbishop afterwards, as he'd made some stupid, hurtful and very crass comments during his speech, a letter which I have put on my Angry Anglican blog. I doubt the Church of England is listening, but I wanted to have my say. I've also been highly amused most recently by the fact that the Church of England is now saying that it will "graciously concede defeat" and work towards supporting the Equal Marriage Bill (even though they were actually rather ignominiously defeated by the majority of opinion against them, and really have a decent amount of egg on their faces right now). But Lord preserve us!! The last thing we folk want is that mealy-mouthed bunch of bishops getting their hands on a perfectly good Bill. Please God they don't manage to mess it up as much as they messed up the Women Bishops vote. Perhaps we can somehow distract them with some other crisis - say, sex abuse and bullying in the church, for instance - while reasonable people get on with the task of bringing God's kingdom to earth? It's the only way, I fear ...

Mind you, I have been highly amused by this article on the possibility of the Archbishop setting up fertility clinics for engaged couples, if he's so keen on peopling the nation. Now that would be truly wonderful! And would at least give the wretched man something useful to do, hey ho.

Turning to happier news, I was rather startled to be greeted by my lovely neighbour, L, earlier in the week as I returned home from work - who simply couldn't wait to tell me that after weeks of thorough searching, she'd finally got THE perfect 50th birthday present for me later on this month. I whooped with joy and delight and danced round the car for a bit with her, as one does - and then asked if it could keep for a year, as actually I'm 49 this month as I'm a 1964 baby. Oh no!! Apparently it can't keep and I have traumatised the neighbours by not being old enough, alas. However, after some hysterical giggling, we have agreed that I will officially be 50 this year and 49 next - so problem solved. I can't wait to see what the present is either.

June indeed must be here at last, as the first of our roses is fully in bloom, and there are loads of buds on the others, which is hopeful. I look forward to a riot of colour and scent in the next few weeks, deer willing, of course.

Finally, yesterday's cake was Lemon Cake, which is one of the easiest recipes I have and tastes really lovely. Thank goodness I have a new electric whisk which works like a dream, hurrah.

Anne Brooke
Gay Reads UK
The Gifting: gay spiritual fantasy
Biblical Fiction UK
Lori Olding Children's Author

Celebration, song and a competition!

Life News:

I'm celebrating my 46th birthday early this weekend (it's tomorrow, 21 June in actual fact) so it's been one outing after another really, hurrah! Lord H and I attended our first Glyndebourne event of the season yesterday and I even bought a new frock for it. Well, gosh. Or, rather, Lord H bought it. What a hero. We saw Benjamin Britten's Billy Budd which, I suppose wasn't a huge barrel of laughs but the staging was great and it's fascinating stuff. Being me, I loved the whole gay homoerotic subtext (or possibly "text" as to my mind there's nothing very "sub" about a whole load of sailors stuck in the middle of the ocean who all start calling Our Hero "baby" or "beauty" and telling him how handsome he is). Lord H harrumphed when I mentioned this and said what nonsense, it was all very manly and Billy was simply popular with the crew. Though, after my reasoned argument (no women at all, it's by Britten, there's a lot of passionate arias etc etc) he did admit that it was possibly even too gay for the marvellous Matthew Bourne to remake it as a gay ballet. Perhaps we need the lesbian version? Heck, we'd both pay to see that ...

Today, and carrying on the gay theme, we've had lunch out at Wisley and a bit of a wander round the rose gardens. As you do. Thus meeting wonderful troupes of metrosexual fathers out with their offspring and loved ones, celebrating Fathers' Day in civilised fashion. I suppose if you are a gay/metrosexual father and want a day out, then Wisley is likely to be higher up your list than the Bovington Tank Museum, or perhaps I am generalising way, way too much? Hey, it's possible. But I'm allowed - I'm nearly 46, you know. And a lot of champagne has been drunk - a hell of a lot - so it's astonishing I can form any kind of coherent thought at all.

Book News:

I'm thrilled to say that Martin and The Wolf has gained its first five-star review at Goodreads, and thank you so much to the lovely Serena for her comments. I'm particularly thrilled with her final paragraph:

I loved the message of this story: what counts in a relationship between any two "beings" isn't how they look, nor necessarily what DNA they carry, or what they behave like. The focus in examining whether we can have a relationship with someone, and accept who and what they are, should be on how they relate to us, what they mean to us, and how they treat us. A very powerful message indeed!


Which is basically what I was trying to convey - so thank you for that. As an added treat, there's a special FREE Giveaway competition for the book that is currently running at The Dancing Dove Journal - so leave a comment as instructed there to be in with a chance of winning a copy. The competition ends on 25 June, so good luck to all!


I'm also pleased to say that I've sent the final proofs for Creative Accountancy for Beginners back to Untreed Reads so I'll wait to see what the publication date will be for that one.


This week's haiku:


The motorway's edge:
the green and level grasses
float softly away.


Anne Brooke
The Prayer Seeker's Journal

Romance and song all the way to the finale

Am very pleased to say that All Romance Ebooks are now stocking both Pink Champagne and Apple Juice and Thorn in the Flesh, and Thorn in the Flesh even (at the moment of typing ...) appears on the front page of All Romance Ebooks, so that's been a bit of a thrill. And a special thank you to Leslie of Bristlecone Pine Press for sorting it all out. What a star!

Also today, my review of Erin Pringle's short story collection, The Floating Order is now up at the Vulpes Libris review site. The collection - and I hope (!) the review - is well worth a read, all the more so as I'm disagreeing with literary review giant Scott Pack in my response to Pringle's work ...

And here's this morning's meditation:

Meditation 153

What turns curse
to blessing
is love;

let the light
wash through you
and pray

to one day know
where you came from
and where you go.


This afternoon, Lord H and I are at our first Glyndebourne event of the season and will be enjoying all the romance and song of Purcell's The Fairy Queen, plus there's a bottle of champagne with my name on it, hurrah! I'm getting my glad rags dusted down even now.

All of which is highly appropriate as tomorrow will be my 45th birthday (hurrah!! So young, and so unspoiled, I hear you cry - or maybe not ...) so the chances of any kind of journal entry are shamefully low and I'll be spending most of my day admiring the roses and (I hope) sunshine of Wisley.

Have a great weekend, everyone, and I'll catch up with you on Monday - which will of course be publication date for The Bones of Summer. Well, gosh!

Today's nice things:

1. A new buying home for Champers and Thorn
2. The Vulpes Libris review
3. Poetry
4. Glyndebourne
5. Champagne!
6. My upcoming birthday
7. The roses of Wisley
8. Only two days to the Bones publication date, hurrah!

Anne Brooke - enjoying days of wine and roses ...

Birthday celebrations and story successes

Big celebrations today as it’s Lord H’s birthday! I seem to have managed to get the right sort of presents and we’re continuing to munch our happy way through the birthday cake, hurrah. I’ve even cut us a slice each for lunch too. Goodness me but my Wife Points are topping the scale. Big-time.

It’s also nice to see that my flash fiction story, Over in Five, is now published and can be found here – never trust a visit to the zoo is what I say … Additional story news is that Eternal Press have sent me the edits to my short story, Painting from Life, so I’m looking forward to getting my teeth into those for them. And, to cap it all, I’ve also started my planned short story about wildernesses at last. UPDATE: And I've just heard that Every Day Poets have accepted my poem, Old Prayers, for future publication, so that's wonderful. Heck, it’s really all go here at the literary coalface at the moment, you know. Long may it last! However, that said, I've had a rejection for The Bones of Summer today (groan), so that leaves me with only one publisher left before I start the next desperate tranche (double sighing ...). Ah well.

Meanwhile at work I’ve been organising the boss’s filing, finishing off the first draft of the minutes I started last week and attempting to sort out last minute arrangements for tomorrow’s novel reading event. I think we have enough chairs for the room – though rather sweetly it took three men from Estates to come and tell me. Goodness, but my scary reputation must indeed go before me – they obviously think there’s safety in numbers.

At lunchtime, I had my rescheduled reflexology appointment held over from last Monday (which I think must from now on be called Snowy Monday) so that was utter bliss as usual. I think I’m going to need that memory of calm to see me through the trials and tribulations of attempting to organise tomorrow’s event however. I am so definitely not a natural Mistress of Ceremonies at all – and goodness me I have to deal with people too. No doubt it will be my social inclusion quota for the month – though I’m sure when everyone’s there and it’s all got going, it’ll be most enjoyable.

Tonight, I need to pop in and see Gladys as I didn’t get to see her at all last week – shame on me. Then I’m cooking Lord H’s requested birthday meal of sausages, chips and mushrooms followed by ice cream, all washed down with champagne. Well, we like to live healthy lives, you know. But I won’t be singing him “Happy Birthday” – as he’s already had to run that gauntlet and is even now lying down in a darkened room trying to recover …

Ooh, and there’s the glorious Whitechapel on TV too, which we are both very keen to watch. A perfect evening indeed!

Today’s nice things:

1. Birthday celebrations
2. Over in Five being published
3. Starting the edits for Painting from Life
4. Starting a new short story
5. Old Prayers being accepted for publication
6. Reflexology
7. TV.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website - drinking the night away

Flowered out and the great Web Queen

Had a fantastic birthday yesterday - Lord H and I spent the day in Wisley where the rain mostly held off. Highlights of the day included (a) the amazing Chinese dragons made out of begonias, (b) the glorious rose garden, (c) the wild garden, (d) seeing two frogs, (e) the very good lunch at the Terrace Restaurant, and (f) seeing loads of birds, including a mistle thrush (a first for us). I must admit to being totally flowered out by the time we left. Also had lots of Clarins, books and money as presents, so that's all certainly put a smile on my face. And Dr Who was a shit-hot episode, so what more can you want?

Today, I was too lazy to go to the Quaker service (which I had planned to do), so I obviously have no spiritual staying power to talk of. So no surprises there either. Instead, Lord H and I have spent most of the day attempting to get the Mac to update the Goldenford and my own websites. Lordy, but that's been bloody tough. And there was I thinking it would take a couple of minutes. More fool me then. Still at 6pm, I think we've beaten it into submission, but I have to admit it is a bit of a palaver and involves going into a Windows parallel environment and twiddling one's thumbs while Mac sorts it out. Sigh. So I've discovered one aspect which the PC does do better then! Ah well - I shall just have to save up website changes and do them when I'm feeling strong ...

Tonight, I might watch "Kinky Boots" if I feel up to it - but having also just finished watching "Intermission" with Colin Farrell, I'm still in shell-shock. I do love La Farrell, but the film was grim. Way too grim for me. I was actually rather glad that I didn't manage to get the end of it on the video, due to the football. Perhaps KB will be funnier? I do hope so.

And one of my birthday presents from Lord H was a magnetic haiku set - which I absolutely love! I have made my first haiku with it too:

Concrete blossom whispers
listen to the snow.
Fragile winter morning.

Today's nice things:

1. Getting the ruddy website updates done finally!!
2. Playing with haikus
3. Colin Farrell - though shame about the film ...

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Climbing up the well ...

I can't believe it, but I'm actually feeling more like a normal human being today, bloody hell and put out the ruddy bunting. I feel today that there might actually be a glimmer of hope out there somewhere, but not of course in the publishing trade. That remains, as ever, a veritable pit of darkness and despair. Ah 'tis a place of strange mystery, Carruthers, from which nobody returns alive, or at least in human form ...

First thing this morning, I was bizarrely cheered whilst waving goodbye to Lord H to see a young man in a blue shirt walking an extremely large and very coiffured (is that a word?) poodle past the end of the garden path. It was really almost the size of a sheep. Perhaps it was a sheep, I don't really know. Strange things do happen in Godalming. But a poodle-walker is definitely a first here in the shires. For the rest of the morning, I have been having a wonderful massage courtesy of the lovely and really rather pregnant (should she be doing massage in her condition??) Laura. When she got to my notoriously stiff-as-boards shoulders, she was putting so much effort into beating the tension into submission that I feared she might give birth there and then. But luckily not. That would have been a terrifying start to my birthday weekend.

On the journey back, I was also cheered to see I was following a green van belonging to the Godalming piano company almost all the way home. I suddenly came over all 1950s - it felt like something out of "Dad's Army". I half expected the van to stop and Corporal Jones to appear. Oh God, I'm getting whimsical - I will have to be beaten into sense with twigs again. Sigh.

Later, I was planning to play golf with Marian, but she wasn't able to go after all due to the rigours of her week. Which, to be honest, suited me as my week hasn't been that good either (as you know, you poor people ...) and I was pleased for the extra quiet not-having-to-socialise time. But I'll pick up the golf again in a couple of weeks, weather permitting.

However, some sad news on my sick Guildford friend, which puts my self-obsessed and dark ramblings very much into perspective - unfortunately, she's still in hospital and not up to being visited much at the moment, or even being talked to. I really wish I'd gone to see her this week, as I'd planned, after all - I put it off entirely because of me and I hope I don't live to regret that decision. I hope Ruth from work and I will be able to visit next week. And I hope we can go together. Bloody hell, but sometimes other people's lives and the things that happen to them are just so bloody unfair that it makes me want to take God by the scruff of the neck and give him a bloody good shake. No doubt he feels the same way about me however. I just hope next week brings good news. Sick Friend deserves it.

For the rest of the day, I've been typing up the utterly huge amounts of Goldenford minutes I took last night. Girls, girls! You have so much to say and you say it soooo quickly! Highlights of the plans to come include a brief book signing at Waterstone's in Guildford on Thursday 10 July at 10.30am. Bearing in mind that they only actually have one copy of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice and they are refusing to buy in copies of either Thorn in the Flesh or Tainted Tree, I can see it's going to be a very short visit. Luckily they have copies of other Goldenford books, so we can at least try to hang around and beg people to buy them for a while before they chuck us out. My new theory is that actually bookshops secretly hate both books and authors, and are way too posh to be seen to be hobnobbing with the likes of us inky-fingered and suspect writers. It's like putting Cruella de Ville in charge of the nursery - she wouldn't really want to catch sight of the children.

Tonight, I'll be doing the cleaning so I don't have to do it tomorrow, as 21 June is an Official Writers' Day Off to celebrate my 44th birthday. Anyone who dares to write anything tomorrow will have to pay the forfeit of actually buying one of my hard-to-get books. Hey, think of it as a challenge ...

So, have a good weekend and, if you're not having one for any reason, you have my heartfelt sympathy. I know how that feels.

Today's nice things (especially for Jen):

1. The poodle
2. Feeling better, ye gods!
3. Massages
4. Piano vans
5. Getting the Goldenford minutes under control - of sorts
6. My 44th birthday tomorrow
7. Being able to laugh at Waterstone's.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Because I'm worth it!...

Happy birthday to me!
Happy birthday to me!
Happy birthday to me-eeeeeeeeeee!
Happy birthday to me!
Yay!

What a lovely day I'm having. Thank you soooo much for all the good wishes, cards and virtual cards which have been crowding my inbox and hall table since yesterday. I'm really grateful! I even had a virtual cake (thanks, Gillian!), virtual singing (thanks, Jackie!) and a virtual scary dancing frog - I think (thanks, Sue!). I have had chocolate for breakfast and chocolate cake for a very late lunch. So I am - for once - at home in my skin. As the French would say if they were ... um ... English.

And I have had - hurrah!! - the birthday strop. In a subtle, yet elegantly vicious kind of way, double hurrah. I mean: what birthday is truly complete without the Birthday Tantrum?? It just wouldn't be the same ... The cause being the receipt of a birthday card from the two university acquaintances (yes, they've definitely been downgraded from "friends" now) who wouldn't speak to me because they couldn't deal with people with depression. Well, sod that for a game of soldiers, say I. So I tore the thing into shreds, along with its envelope, and recycled it. And wrote a birthday poem:

Vanishing Acts

So your card arrives –
a sop to twenty years of friendship
and several months of silence –
and I tear it up,
both card and envelope
splintering paper blood and anger
across your names.

When I drop the pieces
in the recycling bin –
always mindful of the environment
even in the face of
your shallow-hearted, elegant
brutality –

I think about spitting
on you both;
I’ve always appreciated
a spot of good high drama,
you see.

But in the end, you’re just not worth it
to me.


I was soooo tempted with the spitting bit (for those moments, m'dears, when simply nothing else will do ...), but I didn't want to upset the very sweet recycling men. See how socially aware I am even in my incandescent rage!...

I also got a very lovely rejection - bizarrely - from Penny Thomas, the Fiction Editor at Seren for Maloney's Law, which - as it's so lovely and as I've decided now to not go the mainstream publishing route with it, I thought I'd include here:

"Many thanks for sending Maloney's Law to Seren. I'm so sorry it has taken us such a long time to get back to you (actually, it was only six months, so I thought it was unseasonably short - I sometimes don't hear anything for a year/18 months) - we are a small company and have been inundated with manuscripts in the last few months. Another reason for the delay is that I have been quite tempted by this novel. It is seductively written, with a strong clear plot and that all-important page-turning factor. In addition, your characters and their relationships are at once credible and intruiging. Unfortunately Seren has not yet really stepped into the thriller genre and, with my lists currently full well into 2009, I don't think I am able to find a space for a change of direction at present."

Thanks, Penny - it's one of the nicest rejection letters (actually, I've never had a novel acceptance letter as such - Flame emailed me for A Dangerous Man) I've ever had. And the terrible, soul-shaking sting you get from the "near miss" is for once pleasantly absent, I imagine from having made the decision not to pursue mainstream publication for Maloney's Law further.

This morning, I've had my usual counselling session. Kunu was impressed with my new feeling of power, from having ditched my real family and found myself a virtual little sister (how are you, Caroline (http://www.myspace.com/caroline_biesse)? Hope you're having a good day too!). And we've decided that church structures are just too disempowering for words - way too much of the awful "we love you because that's our duty as Christians and not for your own sake" - I mean: what is that attitude???!! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. It's somehow very dehumanising, which is I'm sure not at all what Christ actually meant. I think I've said this before, but the older I get the more I'm convinced that Christ didn't come to earth to make us Christians at all, but simply in order to encourage us to be more human. More of who we can be. Anything that dehumanises us (and the church, in my experience, often does just that) or makes us less than we can be is surely against the overarching will of God? Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to create a new religion which will meet with fellow believers in each other's homes between 6pm and 7pm on Wednesday evenings. It will consist of half an hour of angry ranting at God and the general populace, involving real good solid adult tantrum stuff, and then half an hour of quiet meditation. It'll revolutionise the middle of your week, get you in touch with your inner selves and - bliss! - leave the ruddy weekends free. What more could you want? Actually, even Kunu looked quite interested. Maybe I'm on to something here?...

After counselling, I had an hour and a half of Clarins facial - bliss! Then I went shopping. Hell, it's my birthday and I'm worth it! So I bought six pairs of glittery stud earrings in different colours from "All That Glitters" in Guildford (what a marvellous shop!) - from a lovely woman who wished me a happy birthday and hoped I'd enjoy the rest of my day. Thanks, I have. I then hit Marks & Spencer, and bought 5 tee-shirts and 2 shirts, all at very reasonable prices and in a wonderful range of light summer colours, and all from the men's section. My, but the boys do get the best colours, you know ... They don't know how lucky they are!

On my way home, I popped in to see Gladys, who's had a bit of a fall this week, but was in spritely mood, in spite of the pain. She'll be soooo glad to see the back of Blair. Which at nearly 92 isn't bad going. And I've bought a short story collection from Salt Publishing (http://www.saltpublishing.com) - thanks, Jen (http://www.myspace.com/jenatsalt)!

Presents received from the noble Lord H:

One box of Lindor milk chocolates (bliss!)
The DVD of "Casino Royale" (oh, Daniel, how will I ever watch anything else now?...)
The DVD of "The Queen", with Helen Mirren
Mark Haddon's "A Spot of Bother"
Anne Tyler's "Digging to America"
Murakami's "Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman" (short stories)
Julia Glass' "The Whole World Over"

Plus money from Mother (which I've already spent! See above ... Thanks, Mum!), who also bought me a very peculiar floral toilet bag, which I suspect might be for her own virtual daughter - you know, the fluffy, female one she always wished she'd had ... Bloody hell, perhaps my mother and I are more alike than I'd suspected, and we both have virtual families?? Now, there's the start of a (rather scary) novel ...

Tonight, I'm in the pizza, garlic bread, ice cream, and more chocolate zone, plus as much champagne as you could sink the Titanic with - and, hey, it's nearly time for Lord H to come home! Hurrah! Have a great evening, all!

Today's nice things:

1. Birthday tantrums
2. Birthday presents
3. Birthday dinner (Hmm, is there a connection here, do you think?...)

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

V-Cs, wasps and saints days

St George’s Day today – so happy St George’s Day to all. I gather that Guildford is making a big thing of this, but as I’m not able to go to town in the lunch-hour (in any sense), then I can’t confirm anything. Lord H and I were wondering if we should re-enact the traditional slaying of the dragon by the good saint himself, but were unable to agree on which of us should take which part. So this mini-drama has, I’m afraid, had to be shelved for now. However, at work I have taken out my red, white and blue fluffy pen and given her (or possibly him, but it’s hard to say) pride of place. The saint will be smiling, I’m sure.

And of course it’s Shakespeare’s birthday, so great cause for rejoicing. And … um … his death day, so something more of a bummer really. My though, what a party that must have been. (Happy birthday, Will! Hope you like the present … Oh. Obviously you didn’t. Ah well …). But it does give a nice sense of completion, I have to say.

Oh, and I was cheered yesterday by realising that A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com/) is actually on someone’s Wish List on Amazon – and can be seen at the Number Two position on “Jem’s” list here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/pdp/profile/ACEA95FQS1AVP - thanks, Jem! I’ve never been on anyone’s wish list before, and it’s a great honour. Talking of which, I find that ADM and I are not only in the University summer arts calendar today – advertising the forthcoming Book Circle discussion on 30 April – but are also on the University intranet news page - which I'm afraid you can't see, but bearing in mind the pic that may be a good thing!

This morning, I have finished off my updates to the Mentoring Handbook and have given it to Carol once more to check. We’ve decided that it will be best housed in A5 files, so we can easily update stuff on an ongoing basis – but you wouldn’t believe how few options the office supply people give on A5 paper or files. Hobson’s choice really. But it does give me a secretarial buzz to be looking at paper and wondering which I like best – almost makes me feel useful.

And I’ve decided to cancel next week’s Kinesiology (http://www.kinesiology4health.com/) appointment in Petersfield and not book any more at the moment, as I’m not sure that I’m learning anything else in my occasional visits - though Jane Phillips is a lovely woman and very good at what she does. It seemed like the right thing to do – and if I do want any further advice I can always make an appointment in Guildford, which is in any case much closer to home. So, I’ve written her a letter to thank her, as that seemed the right thing to do too.

This lunchtime, we had another talk from the Vice-Chancellor about the restructuring. Groan. Mind you, his super-fast delivery meant that I took very little in – which once again may indeed have been his purpose. We were all talked-at into submission by the time the questions slot came round. So I popped out for my lunchtime walk later than usual in order to get my brain functioning again – and saw that we have two baby coots on the lake. Or possibly moorhens, but I can’t tell. The mother had a white beak and the babies red beaks, so perhaps it’s our first cross-breeding? Who knows?

However, it’s not all good news and caviare, I’m afraid – an online friend of mine emailed me today to say she hadn’t really enjoyed poor old ADM at all, the reasons being because it just didn’t gel for her and because she thought I’d left too much of Michael’s traumas until the end. In addition she felt he had much more to say than I’d allowed, and it should have been far darker and more violent. This came as quite a punch (which probably only goes to show what a pathetically sensitive sad git I am, I’m sure …), partly because it’s my first bad review and partly because it was someone I was utterly convinced would like it. A lot. I also felt gutted at the comment that I hadn’t given Michael enough of a voice, especially when I’d felt I’d really gone to the depths with him, and back again. I know she’s being nice and is obviously perfectly entitled to a reaction, but I must admit it hurts. However, a wry smile (of sorts) was raised when I read the comment that she hoped this wouldn’t upset me. Um, I’m only human! Still one very stiff gin later and I’m slowly unfurling. A little.

Tonight, Lord H is out at theology, and I’m going to attempt to start my last scene in The Gifting, even though I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing and am scared to death by it. It really feels like I’ve bitten off far, far more than I can actually chew and, however I write the ending, it’s going to be pants. I simply don’t feel that I can end Simon’s story in the way he deserves and that any of the cats I can pull out of the bag now won’t be any bigger or any fluffier than the cats I’ve pulled out before, as the story’s gone along. Bummer. Again. In all of my other novels (well, most of them anyway …), I’ve known as I approached it what the ending would be – but I’m going to be spitting into a vacuum for this one, I fear. Boy, does this writer have cold feet about it – my toes are barely hanging on. Still, this isn’t the spirit that won (or indeed lost) the empire, so I’ll just have to grit my teeth and slog on. Grinning wildly …

And my 55 word fiction, “When the phone rang” has won the Bird and Moon (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/) Readers’ Choice award for February (hurrah!) and can be found here: http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/readerschoice.html - so that’s cheered me greatly.

Oh, and I’ve had my first real battle with a wasp. I was doing the recycling when that terrible humming began in the hallway and I realised I was trapped outside the flat with no phone and no means of alerting Lord H who was having a quick bath prior to theology. I did try the neighbours but they weren’t in, so I couldn’t ring from theirs. So I had to wait 15 minutes for Lord H to finish his bath and wonder where I was. Lucky he noticed, eh! Still, he despatched the evil striped beast with his usual finesse and I could come home again. Phew. Damn lucky it wasn’t raining either …

And thank goodness there’s “New Tricks” on TV later – just the light relief I need, I suspect.

Today’s nice things:

1. Being on an Amazon wish list
2. The double University advertising splash
3. The 55 word award.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com/
http://www.goldenford.co.uk/

Discontinuations, surprises and a jittery novelist

Goodness me, Lord H's birthday ended with a surprise firework display at Charterhouse School last night - no idea what they were celebrating but, seeing as the flat overlooks the grounds, we had a top-class view of the proceedings. Naturally, I told Lord H that it had taken me months to arrange, but I suspect that he thought I was being less than honest. Still, one can always hope I've gained extra Wife Points purely from chutzpah. And the display itself was grand.

This morning, a late start, and then a joint outing into Godalming, mainly so that Lord H could put in his birthday cheque from my mother (thanks, mother ...) and I could spend my £50 book tokens. But, my goodness, Waterstone's seemed to take an age working out how to help a customer spend tokens on books I wanted to order rather than those they were actually stocking. Has no-one ever asked them this before? Perhaps we are indeed becoming too much reliant on the joys of Amazon shopping. Anyway, items ordered included Nick Maes' "Not Dark Yet" , Rupert Smith's (http://www.myspace.com/rupert_smith) "Service Wash" and the two latest novels by Paul Burston (http://www.myspace.com/paulburston). So I can look forward to having decent reads fairly soon, hurrah! Shame I couldn't seem to get them to order any Joseph Hansen books though, as they were convinced I'd made him up, so I shall have to fall back into the arms of Amazon for those later on, no doubt.

And I attempted to restock my lovely bath/body Detox Oil at Between The Lines, only to be told (again!! What is it about me? Am I indeed to Kiss of Death to all commerce??!) that the item had been discontinued. Serious groan ... Soon there will be nothing left for me to buy at all and I will have to live in a lonely room with only empty shelves for company. So be warned - the moment I find something I like and buy it, I suggest you take your custom elsewhere as I can guarantee that, whatever it is, it won't last long.

I've been doing some more to "The Gifting" for the rest of the day - more tinkering than serious commitment though. I did make one section into a nice dark blue colour - like this - as I wasn't sure if it was in the right place, and that's what I always do in those circumstances as it makes me feel as if I'm achieving. Lord preserve me but I really am a sad git. Then I put it somewhere else, altered a few sentences and made it black typeface again. Goodness, this writing malarkey is exhausting, m'dears, I'll really have to lie down and have Lord H bring me a gin or two ... Anyway, I think it's to do with the fact that I've got to that point in the ruddy novel - which usually occurs not less than three-quarters of the way through - when I have so many bloody balls in the air and have no idea if any of them will land in the right place. It happens every bloody time, and makes me so damn jittery - terrified that (a) I've lost it entirely and will never get myself, let alone any reader, to the end in one piece, and (b) I've missed some vital piece of sub-plot - or, worse, have failed to write one - that will mean none of it will make any sense at all, and (c) all those plot balls I'm juggling like a mad circus act will come toppling down on my head and crush me into the earth. Hell, just writing this is making me as twitchy as sin. Of course I try to offer myself comfort by telling myself that if I didn't get that feeling each and every time, then maybe I wouldn't be able to find that "edge" at all - much like a clapped-out actor who knows that if he's going to get through to the curtain call then the first few lines will always be wrapped in fear. Hell. Sod the first few lines though - they're not my main problem. My main problem is this bloody three-quarters stage. Can I get Simon through to the final leg of his journey? Currently the two of us are dragging ourselves across the page hoping for a kindly hand and a glass of water, so God alone knows. I can only keep on trucking and hope that my pen knows a damn sight more than I do. Hey, somebody has to ...

But the one great thing that's cheered me up is the amount of extremely bitchy book reviews in today's "Telegraph". Utterly lovely. With some marvellous, super-bitchqueen turns of phrase from Lionel Shriver (as reviewer), amongst others. Oh, how the knocking of a major novelist can still bring a heartfelt smile to my face; I did so enjoy reading these over my lunch! Schadenfreude and chocolate is the ideal combination for any struggling writer, don't y'know. And I do understand that this only goes to show what a mean-spirited slapper I am indeed. But, hey, don't try to tell me I'm the only one ...

Tonight, Lord H and I have made a token gesture of cleaning - sometimes just glancing at the floor cloth and the Cif (Jif for us mature people, eh?...) is really more than enough. And later we're going to watch the fun new dino-adventure series, "Primeval", on TV. I do so love anything with dinosaurs and time-travel. I'm a sucker for a T-Rex in full spate. Bliss indeed. At least, it'll give my jitters something else to think about.

Today's nice things:

1. Last night's fireworks
2. Spending my book tokens
3. Reading bitchy book reviews.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Birthday boy and a bricked-up boyfriend

Hey, if that title doesn't pull you in, nothing will ... First off, it's Lord H's birthday today - hurrah! I'm not allowed to mention how old he is though; suffice it to say that I'll be 43 this year, and he's a full year older than me. 'Nuff said. Anyway, he doesn't look a day over 29, I'm sure. And any ageing that has appeared since our first ever meeting is of course entirely down to his being married to me. Or so he keeps saying.

Anyway, I performed my wifely duties first thing this morning (no, not those, people - 6.30am is way too early!!! And, besides, this is Surrey, you know ...) and provided breakfast chocolate cake and suitable presents and cards. Which included a huge tome on the history of the Book of Common Prayer, which appears to be three feet thick, with size 8 font printing. However Lord H is happy with it, so I gain Wife Points. And of course Points Mean Prizes ... I also bought him the Beginner's Guide to Origami set, so not only can we have a surfeit of small paper planes in the flat, but we can have animals and birds too. Huzzah! My cup indeed runneth over. Already he has made me an origami dog - which would have been charming and nice if I hadn't thought it was a whale. Ah well. I can only be nice in short bursts - anything else isn't natural. And, of course, I have also sent him flowers to work, so it can give him something to be embarrassed about. I asked for a mixture of orange and purple, and apparently he has ended up with blue roses. Hmm. GM crops are a wonderful thing indeed ...

This morning, I have done sod all, really - probably the fall-out from yesterday's hyped-up hive of activity. But I did pop into Guildford for lunch with a friend, Sue - I have caught up with her daughter's traumas, which include the daughter's Dreadful Boyfriend. Still, at 18, I think everyone has a Dreadful Boyfriend - except me, of course, but I did live in the country in my formative years so didn't meet a man until I was 17 (ah brave new world, etc etc ...), and anyway I like to think that I am an acquired taste, like an olive. Lord H was the only one who didn't run fast enough and was therefore unable to avoid my marital rugby tackle tactics ... Anyway, Sue and I have decided that the best way forward is to brick the DB up in her new extension and tell the daughter that he's gone to Paris. You heard it here first, people ...

On my way back, I also popped in to see Gladys, who was quite lively today and had a wasp (a wasp!! at this time of year! Lord preserve us ...) which she is keeping alive in the hallway with leaves from the garden. My personal preference would be for a gerbil, but there's no accounting for taste. And it's always good for the older folk to have a hobby. But, please, if I take to wasp-keeping in my nineties, I demand that someone pulls the plug on me. It would be a mercy killing in my case, I feel.

Tonight, I am providing Lord H with his regular birthday requests (hey, steady, people, steady! ...) of sausages, beans & crinkle-cut chips, followed by chocolate ice cream, all washed down with pink champagne. Never say we don't know how to push the boat out in downtown Godalming. And I'm determined to be extra nice to him with no teasing for a whole weekend. Well, a girl has to try. Though Lord H remains unconvinced that I will manage this great task, and is muttering darkly about whether he has the correct wife or not. We'll see, eh? I do so love a challenge.

Today's nice things:

1. Watching Lord H's joy at getting his origami set
2. Lunch and murderous talk with Sue
3. Naughty birthday food.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Meeting Manipulator

Ye gods, my feet haven’t touched the ground today. Which, I have to admit, is a thousand times better than being depressed and slow as yesterday was. I have arranged extraordinary meetings just in case we weren’t having enough meetings in the original schedule, put on a new meeting just to keep the punters on their toes, cancelled a meeting that nobody could be bothered to attend, and am working towards rescheduling it just in case their interest might have awakened later on. And along with all this, I have hustled for rooms and equipment, dealt with catering, completed the minutes I started yesterday and drafted a plethora of agendas just in case some darn fool out there might want to attend an additional and as yet unformattable meeting if they have a spare half hour. That’ll show ’em. Of course, I may well have forgotten something absolutely vital in the middle of it all (anyone seen the Registrar? – is he waiting for a meeting …?), but I doubt anyone will notice as their meetings will flow so smoothly (ha!) from one to the other that nobody will see the join. In my ruddy dreams, eh?… The life of a minutes secretary is a real rollercoaster, you know.

Lunchtime was spent chairing the next UniSWriters meeting. Another meeting – gosh! Nobody had done much work over the holidays, although Alan produced an utterly wonderful start to a story about a cantankerous but charming llama. Called Rasputin. Hope he finishes it, as I’m desperate to know what happens. It’s a Watership Down tale but for llamas. Yes, we do have them in Surrey, you know. Llamas, that is. Sadly, people here can actually go llama-walking in the Surrey Hills. Seems bizarre to me though. Oh, and we did a rather useful writing exercise on emotional tone and perspective, which I gleaned from the terrifying Mslexia Magazine (so it’s not all bra-burning and poetic obscurity then …). Everyone produced really good stuff from it, and I think I might even have got the skeleton of a poem I’ll work up later. We’ll see.

Tonight, I’m off to Guildford Writers (http://www.guildfordwriters.net) for the usual fortnightly meeting (argh!! Not another meeting – please, please, somebody take me away from all this!...). Think I feel well enough to go this time too. But I’m really not up to reading out anything from the novel, so have printed out a couple of pieces of flash fiction to take. I hope that will do. I do so hate reading stuff out – it never gets any easier, more’s the pity.

Oh, and it’s been the boss’s birthday today, so we’ve had chocolate cakes and baklava. Hurrah!

Today’s nice things:

1. Being busy
2. UniSWriters
3. Cake.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com

Mad priests and birthday lists

Went to church today in a fairly neutral frame of mind. Lord H was serving and doing prayers, so I was happily sitting in a pew on my own when our lay reader came to sit next to me. A lovely gesture on her part, no doubt, but actually I would have been happier alone. Still, they're not to know that. And I can honestly say that I did have every intention of going up to communion, but the really appalling sermon the Very Reverend Alex preached was just so bloody inhumane that I decided that no way on earth was I going to take communion from such a out-and-out tosser. Though I probably should have been warned when I saw it was him; I'm sure he's pissed me off with ridiculously narrow-minded and downright cruel sermons before. Anyway, today's effort was a jumbled journey through various terrible things which happen to people, culminating in a story about a young widow whose husband had dropped dead at the age of 31, and when she'd turned to help from the nearest priest, this piss-stupid individual had said that she should be comforted that her husband had been taken as God had work for him to do in heaven. Words fail me!! Apparently these were supposed to be words of comfort which brought hope and a changed attitude to the unfortunate widow in question, and inspiration for us all. Well, bollocks to that is what I say. If any damnfool cleric is ever stupid enough to say such arrant and cruel nonsense to me, I shall kick him in the goolies and stuff his pectoral cross down his throat. What the bloody hell is the church thinking of by giving us such inhumane idiots as the Very Reverend gentleman?? Mind you, perhaps they are trying to promote him out of harm's way where he can do the least damage? I say just stick a red-hot poker up his arse and have done with it. I'll be first in line. And no ambulances. Please God bring us normal priests who know that grief is grief and should be respected - and felt - as such, and not smoothed away (as if it bloody well could be!) with honeyed "christian" nonsense. Honestly, I am getting more and more fed up with the church - and if that's the way I'm supposed to believe and the kind of God I'm supposed to believe in, then frankly I'm not interested in either. Give me humanity any day. And, in my opinion, the Good Lord Himself would probably kick a few arses and feel the same.

However, there is some good news about today: Lord H has finally succumbed to marital pressure and given me a birthday list (his birthday is in February) so I can actually buy something he wants. Each year, I have to chip away with my special nagging tools until I get some kind of an answer, but this year he has surpassed himself; instead of leaving the list on the dining-room table without talking about it in the usual manner, he wrote two items on a post-it note and stuck it in the doorway of the spare room. I walked past it several times, thinking it was some theological note with a phone number of someone he needed to call - until taking a closer look revealed it as a list in his usual undecipherable handwriting with an ISBN number at the top. Marital communication is indeed a complete mystery to us both. As you can see. It also worries me that the second item he wants is an origami kit. Oh Lord, is he going to start making a model of St Paul's out of folded paper? I sincerely hope not ...

Have written a poem about our night out yesterday - obviously it's such a rare occurence that I was moved to verse. Nothing deep here - it's basically just what I saw while we were eating, but here it is anyway:

Night out, The Seahorse, January 2007

At the neighbouring table,
framed by wood and window,
a family browses through
an Eyewitness Guide
to somewhere.

The man gets drinks,
collates supper orders
while the woman smiles
at her children.
They do not notice:

the girl, long hair
flicked back,
writes slowly in a blue notebook,
perhaps describing her trip
or imagining the one to come;

meanwhile her younger brother,
frowning over his mini chess-set,
dark eyelashes quivering,
ponders the future
in black and white.

Another Saturday night
in Surrey,
a good weekend
this time.

Most of this afternoon, I've spent reading and finishing off Lisa Gardner's "Gone". Great thriller stuff. Firmly based within the genre, yes, but still a good read as the characters were very well drawn. And a great page-turner. I'd recommend it, and I'll look out for more of hers in the future. Have to admit also here that I had planned to watch "Swan Lake" on the TV this afternoon as it seemed an ideal Sunday activity, but when push came to shove it just seemed way too worthy and I couldn't be arsed. No changes there then. In the meantime, Lord H is burning incense in preparation for the jamboree next week when St Peter's welcomes its new vicar. Yes, sadly, we do have church incense in the house. The winter evenings fly by. God, I hope the new boy isn't another VR Alex. Lord preserve us all indeed ... but I'm not holding out much hope.

Tonight, we're going to slob in front of our video of "Midsomer Murders", whilst eating Gingerbread Men (bought of course). Bliss. Rubbish detectives kick ballet into touch any day.

And this week's haiku (in honour of my first dance class) is:

While we waltz, music
whispers to our skin, gentles
us into rhythm.

Today's nice things:

1. Coming home from bloody church
2. Reading
3. TV.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

The writing - it's back!

Ye gods, I can still write. Re-sult! I approached "The Gifting" this morning with an anxious heart as I haven't worked on it for a couple of weeks or so, but I managed to bash out 500 words or thereabouts and get myself to the end of a chapter. Lord, but it feels sooooo good. And I've got ideas for scenes floating in silhouette round my head, so it looks like there's life in the old cat yet. Thank goodness. Now I have to think about how I tell the story of Simon's mother and what happened with her, and how I hint at the parts he must at this stage leave out. Hmm, no pressure then - but at least I'm thinking about it!

This morning, I fought a brave, fast and hard-won battle with a queen wasp in the bathroom - put the shakes back in me again, but so far there haven't been any more. Hope it stays that way. I got rid of the evil beast by opening the window very, very carefully and bashing it out with the home address book. But I must have had the quickest bath ever afterwards. Also popped into see Gladys as she's out of hospital. She was soooo glad to be home, but very frail so I didn't stay long. She probably needs her sleep - hell, don't we all ...

I've also rung our holiday hotel for next week and booked myself a back massage and an Indian head massage, so am looking forward to being super-chilled. If only for a while.

And tonight, Lord H and I are up in London for Jane's 50th birthday party. It's being held at the Pimlico Wine Library - which is definitely my sort of library, as long as it has books as well as plonk! - and I suspect it might be quite posh, so I'd better get the posh trousers out. I only have one pair, but they've done me proud for ... um ... twenty years or so. Oh Lord, I really am turning into my mother. Somebody help me!

Today's nice things:

1. Getting back into the writing again
2. Booking my holiday massages
3. Jane's party.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk