Hey ho, I'm feeling surprisingly calm today. What an astonishment for us all indeed. It was great to be able to stop angsting for Britain (is it an Olympic sport, as I'm sure I'd be in with a chance ...?) and get out and play some really quite bad golf with Marian. The weather was great (yes, I know I sound like a postcard, but I'm getting into training for next week) and there was absolutely no-one else on the course but us. Weird. That has never happened before. We were so spooked by it that halfway round we began to wonder if aliens had landed and taken off all the other inhabitants of Godalming. And whether they planned to replace them with large, confident women with whicker (sp?) baskets. Bloody difficult to tell the difference then ...
Anyway, I sank a hugely long putt at the ninth, in spite of an appalling round, so honour was satisfied. It was at least five miles long. Honest. I then popped into Godalming to pick up some shopping and have bought some eucalyptus oil, which I hope to snort when my nose gets bad. Well, it's cheaper than coke, eh. Ho ho. And you don't have to deal with the bubbles.
I then spent the rest of the day dragging out a mere 300 words to add to The Bones of Summer - a process even more fraught with difficulty than getting cash out of my stepfather. And, believe me, that's not easy. The last time Jim's wallet was opened, we actually found Lord Lucan. We never said anything though. Some things are best left a mystery.
I've also screwed my courage to the sticking place and booked an appointment with the Hormone Doctor(as recommended by Steph at the University Health Centre - thanks, Steph!), so will be toddling off to the Surrey Park Clinic later in October to get my bits checked out. Oo-err, missus then.
Tonight, Lord H and I are off to see a dramatised reading of Virginia Woolf's only play, "Freshwater" - which is about Julia Margaret Cameron (the photographer). Which is ideal in its way as it combines one of my favourite writers with Lord H's favourite ever photographer. And comes with a free glass of wine. What more could you want? Well, actually, the fact that it's taking place at the wonderful Watts Gallery is just an added bonus. Verily, our Victorian cup runneth over.
The only fly in the proverbial is of course the horror of missing our essential Friday night pizza & wine night - which we are postponing until tomorrow - and having to video a thousand and one things on the TV. Including the welcome return of "Ugly Betty", which I really can't live without.
Oh, and I've just finished reading Anna Wigley's poetry collection, Durer's Hare. Um, well, I liked one or two of the pieces, including the title poem, but there was just too much ruddy Nature in it. With nothing behind it either. Surely, if poetry is about anything at all, it should be about something other than what you're apparently saying? And it should be utterly and devastatingly human. Or am I missing the point entirely? I do hope my own Nature poems (and I don't really do that many - well, okay, I've done a lot of bird ones recently, but apart from them ...) are actually saying something else other than "Oh what a lovely xxx and look how pretty the yyy are". And are at least more human. I live in hope anyway.
Today's nice things:
1. Golf
2. Eucalyptus oil
3. The play.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label calm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label calm. Show all posts
Friday, October 05, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
More spring cleaning, event nerves and a good book
No church today. In any form. But, on the grounds that cleanliness is next to godliness, I have done my bit for the Great Hereafter and vacuumed the car. Yes, astonishing, isn't it? In the middle of yesterday's clear-out, Lord H found the car vacuum, recharged it (my, how thoughtful ...) and so today I have used it. But, ye gods, it doesn't last long, does it? Or maybe it's the amount of mess in my car that did for it. Hard to say, really. Anyway, we are recharging it again, in case I get the urge in another ten years' time. Ho ho. Even more astonishingly, I have actually dusted and polished the inside of the car as well. Which just proves, twice, that the age of miracles is not dead. Yet.
Apart from that, I've done some writing, and now have Simon through the first of his four final tests. And I think I'll put a sex scene in the next one (or rather an almost sex scene) as, hell, it's about time I wrote one. And I deserve it. If nothing else, it'll take my mind off my growing horror at tomorrow's book circle event for A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com), which I am now dreading on the grounds that (a) nobody will turn up, and (b) if they do, they won't have read the book so the discussion options will be zilch, and (c) somehow they will be able to tell that I've only sold about 50 copies so am not worthy of their time. Hell, I might even get that tattooed on my forehead before I go in - it'll save all those accusations ... God, how I hate this part of it - yes, I know it's great that I've been invited and I am pleased - it's just that my nerves will be shot to pieces by the time I get there, resulting in me gabbling like an idiot, going as red as a stressed tomato and looking like a klutz. Hmm, so no changes there then. Nobody will notice the difference. I will have to remember to take my calming pills, my Rescue Remedy spray and ask where the nearest loo is. Last time I had to do a public book event, I had to go to the loo five times. In the last ten minutes before it started. Ah well ... I think I might leave my kidneys to Science when I'm dead. I'm sure they'll find them fascinating.
Sorry, sorry, I'm blabbering, I know. There's just not enough TV on tonight to keep my mind off it. Sorry ... Even "Ugly Betty" has ended on a sad note, though was as classy as ever.
Anyway, the good and sad news is that I've just finished Stef Penney's The Tenderness of Wolves. It's bloody marvellous. I'll say it again, in case somebody missed that at the back: it's bloody effing marvellous. Read it. You won't regret it. Wonderful, wonderful stuff. My only problem was (a) reaching the end and feeling devastated that I'd done so, and (b) even though the end was great and perfectly judged, I felt there was something I'd missed in Mrs Ross's name. I didn't get what it was. I desperately wanted it to be Amy (for reasons that will be apparent if you've read it), but I am not sure. And I desperately want to know. So if there's anyone out there who can put me out of my misery, please email me via my website (see below) so as to not spoil the surprise for anyone else. Thank you.
Still have to ring Mother tonight - suspect it's safer to go light on our current church difficulties and be nice, happy daughter. I think that will be the easier option all round really. And of course there's Stephen Fry's "Kingdom" - but I thought last week's episode was really too bland (though Lord H enjoyed it), so I'm hoping for more wit and sharpness this week. We'll see.
This week's haiku (well, it's not a haiku - more of a short poem, but it is what it is, I think):
Journey:
My walk a little less steady now.
Birds fly through broken clouds
and all the land is water.
Today's nice things:
1. Vacuuming the car
2. Writing
3. Stef Penney's book.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Apart from that, I've done some writing, and now have Simon through the first of his four final tests. And I think I'll put a sex scene in the next one (or rather an almost sex scene) as, hell, it's about time I wrote one. And I deserve it. If nothing else, it'll take my mind off my growing horror at tomorrow's book circle event for A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com), which I am now dreading on the grounds that (a) nobody will turn up, and (b) if they do, they won't have read the book so the discussion options will be zilch, and (c) somehow they will be able to tell that I've only sold about 50 copies so am not worthy of their time. Hell, I might even get that tattooed on my forehead before I go in - it'll save all those accusations ... God, how I hate this part of it - yes, I know it's great that I've been invited and I am pleased - it's just that my nerves will be shot to pieces by the time I get there, resulting in me gabbling like an idiot, going as red as a stressed tomato and looking like a klutz. Hmm, so no changes there then. Nobody will notice the difference. I will have to remember to take my calming pills, my Rescue Remedy spray and ask where the nearest loo is. Last time I had to do a public book event, I had to go to the loo five times. In the last ten minutes before it started. Ah well ... I think I might leave my kidneys to Science when I'm dead. I'm sure they'll find them fascinating.
Sorry, sorry, I'm blabbering, I know. There's just not enough TV on tonight to keep my mind off it. Sorry ... Even "Ugly Betty" has ended on a sad note, though was as classy as ever.
Anyway, the good and sad news is that I've just finished Stef Penney's The Tenderness of Wolves. It's bloody marvellous. I'll say it again, in case somebody missed that at the back: it's bloody effing marvellous. Read it. You won't regret it. Wonderful, wonderful stuff. My only problem was (a) reaching the end and feeling devastated that I'd done so, and (b) even though the end was great and perfectly judged, I felt there was something I'd missed in Mrs Ross's name. I didn't get what it was. I desperately wanted it to be Amy (for reasons that will be apparent if you've read it), but I am not sure. And I desperately want to know. So if there's anyone out there who can put me out of my misery, please email me via my website (see below) so as to not spoil the surprise for anyone else. Thank you.
Still have to ring Mother tonight - suspect it's safer to go light on our current church difficulties and be nice, happy daughter. I think that will be the easier option all round really. And of course there's Stephen Fry's "Kingdom" - but I thought last week's episode was really too bland (though Lord H enjoyed it), so I'm hoping for more wit and sharpness this week. We'll see.
This week's haiku (well, it's not a haiku - more of a short poem, but it is what it is, I think):
Journey:
My walk a little less steady now.
Birds fly through broken clouds
and all the land is water.
Today's nice things:
1. Vacuuming the car
2. Writing
3. Stef Penney's book.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Counselling and chicken soup
A day off work today, as I'm in tomorrow instead for a course. I really struggled to get out of bed this morning - don't laugh, as it's very difficult when you have a huge black ball of depression in your stomach which you are forced to carry around with you. It gets in the way of everyday life, such as washing, dressing and drying one's hair. I'm actually thinking of sending a letter to Marks & Spencer in Guildford asking if they'll consider making a Depressives' designer range - which would include lots of items in black or dark blue (oh - that is the sum total of my wardrobe so, hurrah, I'm halfway there already ...) with large front pockets in which to put your depression ball. It would be so much handier. I'm sure it would be a success for them. We have a lot of depressives in Surrey. It's because it's so dull.
Which brings me, somehow, to today's counselling session. Kunu has once again worked a marvel in little under an hour. I started my session feeling as low as shit and wondering where I could put my db (see above), but she managed to get me talking as to why I thought I was so low all of a sudden. Answer: I've been hyper and slightly out-of-control (hell, that's a surprise - not ...) for the last few days, so I've been gearing up for a fall. Don't I know it. And then yesterday's difficult moment at work plunged me right back into the drama of my childhood self (ie of being the one with no friends, a shed-load of enemies and no idea as to how you change one to the other), which I've been re-enacting ever since. Ye gods, but primary school was shit. One little upset now, and I'm back in the land of Billy-No-Mates. Still, and miraculously, talking about this to Kunu actually cheered me up, and the resulting rebirth of my energy levels sent me soaring again. So we have decided that I need to plan practical strategies for coping with the down times and the up times, and keeping things simple during both. Hmm, so no pressure then (joke!). And for our next set of six sessions, we're going to focus in on my trigger points of childhood and family. Oh, I can see my Spring is going to be a barrel of laughs indeed. But it makes sense though - just hope I can manage the ride. And this week's counselling homework? - I have to find things that help me to feel calm. That should be fun ...
Back home, I've decided not to visit Gladys today, as I don't think I'm up to it, so I ferreted round my cupboards for some lunch instead. The choices involved either chicken soup or ... um, chicken soup. After a lot of thought, I chose the chicken soup option, as it seemed the best way forward. Good choice. But I added chocolate afterwards too, so all was not lost. During lunch, Lord H also rang from work to ask how his lunch was - which he'd carefully wrapped and left in the kitchen this morning. I said it was fine and would certainly be fully defrosted by the time he next saw it. So that'll save the daily battle with the carving knife tomorrow then.
This afternoon, I've thought about my novel but not done anything about it (sorry, Caroline ...), deciding instead to do some writing purely for enjoyment. Hey - result! So I've done another (longer) piece of flash fiction - about a marriage proposal of all things - and have also sent one of yesterday's pieces, which I've revamped, off to a flash fiction website (http://www.birdandmoon.com) just in case my luck is in. We'll see, but I'm endeavouring to expect nothing, and to keep calm. Hurrah.
A feeling which has not been helped by logging into my work emails and seeing the amount of shit which lies in wait for me tomorrow ... Oh God. And I'll have so little time to deal with it all due to my all-day course. Damn and bloody damn. Perhaps, one of my first methods of keeping calm is not to look at work emails while I'm not there. Kunu will be pleased ...
Oh, and after some discussion on the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) site, I think we've agreed that in actual fact commercial publishers do not exist: it's all a scam run by nefarious agents who soft-soap our fevered brows and send our work off to the great dustbin in the sky before sitting down with their gins and laughing at us in the style of Big Brother. Either that or I'm actually living in an alternative universe where no outside communication is ever received. From anyone. I mean, hey you guys, even a "no" would be appreciated, as long as it's a simple one with no la-de-dah crap attached. It would help put poor old "Thorn in the Flesh" - which my agent sent out to a plethora of places in August last, and which since then has garnered nowt but a terrible silence - out of its misery at last.
Hey ho, time for a calming moment, I think. As if. Hell, maybe it's time for a nap.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Laughing and pointing at Lord H's lunch
3. Writing another piece of flash fiction.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Which brings me, somehow, to today's counselling session. Kunu has once again worked a marvel in little under an hour. I started my session feeling as low as shit and wondering where I could put my db (see above), but she managed to get me talking as to why I thought I was so low all of a sudden. Answer: I've been hyper and slightly out-of-control (hell, that's a surprise - not ...) for the last few days, so I've been gearing up for a fall. Don't I know it. And then yesterday's difficult moment at work plunged me right back into the drama of my childhood self (ie of being the one with no friends, a shed-load of enemies and no idea as to how you change one to the other), which I've been re-enacting ever since. Ye gods, but primary school was shit. One little upset now, and I'm back in the land of Billy-No-Mates. Still, and miraculously, talking about this to Kunu actually cheered me up, and the resulting rebirth of my energy levels sent me soaring again. So we have decided that I need to plan practical strategies for coping with the down times and the up times, and keeping things simple during both. Hmm, so no pressure then (joke!). And for our next set of six sessions, we're going to focus in on my trigger points of childhood and family. Oh, I can see my Spring is going to be a barrel of laughs indeed. But it makes sense though - just hope I can manage the ride. And this week's counselling homework? - I have to find things that help me to feel calm. That should be fun ...
Back home, I've decided not to visit Gladys today, as I don't think I'm up to it, so I ferreted round my cupboards for some lunch instead. The choices involved either chicken soup or ... um, chicken soup. After a lot of thought, I chose the chicken soup option, as it seemed the best way forward. Good choice. But I added chocolate afterwards too, so all was not lost. During lunch, Lord H also rang from work to ask how his lunch was - which he'd carefully wrapped and left in the kitchen this morning. I said it was fine and would certainly be fully defrosted by the time he next saw it. So that'll save the daily battle with the carving knife tomorrow then.
This afternoon, I've thought about my novel but not done anything about it (sorry, Caroline ...), deciding instead to do some writing purely for enjoyment. Hey - result! So I've done another (longer) piece of flash fiction - about a marriage proposal of all things - and have also sent one of yesterday's pieces, which I've revamped, off to a flash fiction website (http://www.birdandmoon.com) just in case my luck is in. We'll see, but I'm endeavouring to expect nothing, and to keep calm. Hurrah.
A feeling which has not been helped by logging into my work emails and seeing the amount of shit which lies in wait for me tomorrow ... Oh God. And I'll have so little time to deal with it all due to my all-day course. Damn and bloody damn. Perhaps, one of my first methods of keeping calm is not to look at work emails while I'm not there. Kunu will be pleased ...
Oh, and after some discussion on the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) site, I think we've agreed that in actual fact commercial publishers do not exist: it's all a scam run by nefarious agents who soft-soap our fevered brows and send our work off to the great dustbin in the sky before sitting down with their gins and laughing at us in the style of Big Brother. Either that or I'm actually living in an alternative universe where no outside communication is ever received. From anyone. I mean, hey you guys, even a "no" would be appreciated, as long as it's a simple one with no la-de-dah crap attached. It would help put poor old "Thorn in the Flesh" - which my agent sent out to a plethora of places in August last, and which since then has garnered nowt but a terrible silence - out of its misery at last.
Hey ho, time for a calming moment, I think. As if. Hell, maybe it's time for a nap.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Laughing and pointing at Lord H's lunch
3. Writing another piece of flash fiction.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
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