Gay marriage and the grumpy churchwoman

Life News:

As the gay marriage debate hots up, I'm pleased to see that the Church Times journalists on the whole don't really get what the fuss is all about. Isn't it quite rightly a done deal apart from the shouting? I'm also perplexed by the recent old-fashioned emphasis on something only being a "marriage" if you physically have children together. Um, does that mean I'm not actually married because neither K nor I want or like children and indeed had that text in the marriage service removed as neither of us wished to say it? For that decision, we must surely be the lowest of the low!

I also don't understand the argument that same-sex marriages threaten the sanctity of marriage. Um, as this wonderful cartoon tells us, what actually threatens the sanctity of marriage is infidelity, alcoholism, addictions, physical and mental abuse, and lying, amongst other factors. I would say that same-sex marriages would enhance the sanctity of marriage, and indeed might encourage us hetero bods to try and get it right more frequently, especially in a society where two out of three marriages currently end in divorce. Hush my mouth, eh ...

Speaking of which, there's a great blog from the talented Jason Shaw about gay marriage which is definitely worth reading. Well said, Jason. Turning to another issue in the gay community, I'd like to highlight this worthy cause to help support LGBTQ youth. All donations welcome!

Meanwhile, I'm really struggling with the Lent course, groan. The theology of the Marcus Borg video seems highly dodgy to say the least. Many apologies to the man, but I simply don't respond well to skewed debate, manipulation of content and the use of a sparkling web of words as a trap. I've come across it too often in the church in the past to give it my full attention now. Besides, I can't really take seriously the theology of someone who neither likes the physical resurrection of Christ much, nor believes that sin is a viable concept. Um, in my opinion, our bodies are hugely important, and if there isn't any sin, then Christ is a liar and there was no point in Him dying. Which, of course, is a theology everyone is entirely welcome to believe but just don't expect me to join in with much enthusiasm. Ho hum.

So, all in all, the Lent course is very draining, and I'm glad there are only two sessions of it left. Though, as I said previously, it has helped me to nail my colours to my own particular theological mast, which is always interesting. So perhaps it's not all bad, eh. But I probably won't be sending the good Dr B an invitation to our Easter service, hey ho.

But to cheer me up, we have a brand-new phone system, which is so advanced that we fear we can't keep up with it. There are four receivers (four!!) so we can have one in my study, one in the bedroom, one in the hall and one in the kitchen, well gosh. They even tell you the time, and you can get different ringtones for different people who ring you. We've decided my mother should be like a warning call, so I can prepare myself ...

This afternoon, I've nipped in to the doctor's as the time is due (yikes!) when we have to review my anti-depressant medication. I have to admit I've not been looking forward to scaling it down as I've been so much better with it - life-changingly better. But the doctor was very sweet and we've agreed that when I next renew my prescription, I'll be given the 10mg Citalopram rather than my current 20mg ones, and see how I am after a month. Seems reasonable to me - maybe I'm just getting overly worried about it (surprise, surprise, eh). Though it is good to see this article about depression which I thought was highly astute. And the more these things are out in the open, the better.

Plus I have to confess I appear to be entering my peri-menopausal zone (turn aside now if this is too traumatic for you, though of course you're welcome to claim I'm way too young for it, ho ho ...), with the dreaded itchy skin and irregular/unusual periods. Ah what it is to be a woman, eh. I remember asking K years ago if he'd still love me when I'm grumpy, sweaty and awkward. His reply was that he wasn't sure he'd notice any difference, so maybe I'm just growing into my real self, hey ho.

I must also praise the customer service skills of the Co-operative Visa people who were total charm and efficiency on the phone today and solved my issue in seconds. Good for them - and a very pleasant surprise. Tonight, K and I are out at the theatre (hurrah!) seeing Bette and Joan - so hang onto your hats for a night of perfect glamour, wit and bitchiness. Much like any normal night here in the outback really.

Book News:

Over at Vulpes Libris Reviews we're having a high old time. Yesterday, we were recommended by The Times as a good book review website, a wonderful surprise which drove our site hits up from the usual 1000 per day to 2250. Well, gosh, I hope our new visitors enjoyed the read! And it's a nice balance with the previous recommendation we had a couple of years back in The Guardian, so the universe is indeed happy.

Not only that but the marvellous Pink Hotel by Anna Stothard, which I reviewed last year on site, has just been longlisted for the Orange Prize, so I'm revisiting it here. Hey, we Book Foxes can definitely tell a good book when we read one. Well done, Ms Stothard, and if there's any justice at all, you'll be on the shortlist before you know it.

I'm delighted to say that my literary horror story The Gift of The Snow has now been accepted for publication by Untreed Reads, so I'm looking forward to working on that one at some point. I'm continuing to work on the edits for The Executioner's Cane and have now reached the dizzy heights of page 50, good for me.

In the meantime, the first in the series, The Gifting, is currently available for only £1.91 at Amazon UK, so snap up a bargain while you can. On the other hand, until the end of March, if you sign up to my quarterly newsletter, then you can get your very own copy free! Happy reading.

You can also find gay thriller The Bones of Summer available at a 20% discount until 20 March at Dreamspinner Press. And one of my writing friends, Mark Wagstaff, is offering free Amazon vouchers if you help him to choose the title of his new short story collection. He's a great and powerful writer so do have a go, and good luck.

I'm also very excited that I've booked my hotel accommodation for the upcoming GLBTQ UK Writers & Readers Conference in September. I absolutely can't wait for this - especially as most of the GLBTQ fiction conferences take place in the US, so it's lovely to have one in the UK too. And if you're a fan of m/m or GLBTQ fiction, then Brighton in September is definitely the place to be.

Also on a hopeful note, there is at last good news about the recent Paypal Censorship issue - so that writers of erotic fiction, such as myself, will continue to be allowed to use Paypal to sell our books. A moment of victory indeed, especially as it's so much easier getting royalties that way. So a BIG thank you to all who have continued to oppose the literary censorship over the last week, and thank you to Paypal for being willing to reconsider.

Looking to the future, I'll be part of the Amber Allure St Patrick's Day Party on Saturday 17 March, and there's going to be lots of fun, frolics and book giveaways, including my own. So come on in on Saturday and enjoy!

This week's meditation poems are:


Meditation 628
Sometimes all you need
to carry on

are a small nearby light
and the distant promise

of sunshine.




Meditation 629
The day is filled
with emptiness
and the faint memory
of fire

while the history
that binds us
falls away as the smoke
drifts higher.




Meditation 630
It’s come to my attention
that we learn far more
from disaster
than success.

So let us be content
to fail and grow wise,
and live well
with less.


Anne Brooke
The Gathandrian Fantasy Trilogy
Gay Reads UK
Biblical Fiction UK

Dates, drugs and days in lieu

Book News:

Much to my delight, sales for gay erotic short story Dating the Delaneys were, according to Amber Allure Press, brisk on the first day of publication, so that's very heartening. There are one or two good ratings at Goodreads already (for which thank you!) and the lovely Angie Jarrett tweeted this:

"I finally read @AnneBrooke Dating the Delaneys, freaking loved it! Can't wait for the next one."

Many thanks, Angie - really appreciate that!

Ooh, and I've been greatly amused this week as, while I was flicking through the first edits for fantasy novel The Executioner's Cane, I realised that the bridge I'd destroyed in Chapter One magically reappeared intact at the end of Chapter Three. Hey ho, you can't put anything past those pesky Lammas Landers, you know - they're ridiculously keen on DIY ... Anyway, suffice it to say I've now gone through the beast again and removed the bridge. People will just have to cope with wet feet and skirts, alas.

Life News:

I had a day in lieu on Monday (as I'm on a student support course in London tomorrow - hence the early blog), which was lovely and I got a lot of writing/editing done - but my week now feels utterly unfamiliar and I'm at least a day behind (or in front) of my own life. How I do love my routine, and how twitchy I become when I can't rely on it. Must be my age, ah well.

Anyway, yesterday evening, we had the man from the bank around to advise us on how to make the most of our (sparse, due to house move) finances, so that was actually really interesting and we may be able to make a penny or two here and there if we follow some of his advice. Perhaps there might be Christmas dinner in Elstead after all. You never know.

And today, I've gone to my follow-up appointment after the cyst operation last week. Apparently it's doing nicely but still inflamed so I have to be on the antibiotics for another couple of weeks. I was really hoping not to have to carry them on as they do make my throat burn for a while after I've taken them (though not in a truly horrid way!), but I now have enough of them to sink the Titanic again - so I just have to make sure I remember when I've taken them and when I haven't. And I was brave today (pause for applause!) and took the plaster off for a while - well, the surgeon had to see the site of Carlos the Cyst, so I had to, really - but it began to hurt a bit later on, so I've put a new one now. I see it as a fashion accessory, don't you know. Soon, everyone will be wearing them. You heard it here first.

Anne Brooke
The Thoughtful Corner

Blogs, Bones and boils

Book News:

Much to my astonishment, comic sf short story, Creative Accountancy for Beginners, has sold a copy in Slovakia, well gosh. Many thanks, kind Slovakian reader - I hope there are more of you out there! I'm also pleased to say I've sent back the galley proofs for gay short story, Dating the Delaneys, which is published on Sunday 6 November, and you can now read an erotic extract on the Amber Allure site. Enjoy ...

At the same time, Riptide Publishing have asked for two more blog posts ready for the upcoming blog tour - one about favourite Christmases and one about the story behind writing gay short story The Heart's Greater Silence. So I'm getting my brain in gear (don't wait up ...) for those projects.

And I'm very happy with the Quarter 3 royalties made by gay thriller The Bones of Summer. I'm surprised it's still selling, but hey I'm not complaining. Never think that.

At Vulpes Libris meanwhile I've discovered my best book of the year (hurrah!) and can only encourage you all to rush out and read Evelio Rosero's Good Offices. A marvellous little novella.

This week's meditation poem is:




Meditation 583
Solomon builds
his temple
with a glorious excess
of gold:

a reminder
when starting your project
you should always attempt
to be bold.


Life News:

Hmm, what can I say? The title of this post has probably given you the clue so all I can say is if you're squeamish, best to skip to the very end, ho hum ... As you may remember, the pesky little cyst (AKA Carlos) on my collarbone has been giving me hell all week and has shot up from a brief and fairly idyllic childhood to be three times its original size in its difficult teenage years, all in the space of seven rather unholy days. My, what fun. It's had its rather painful moments too, and getting into bed without gritting my teeth and wincing (let alone attempting to sleep) has been tricky.

Well, my op was scheduled for 6.30pm this evening and I was starting to get rather angsty as the last time I had an infected cyst removed (from my back) twenty odd years ago, on the NHS, there were several rather unfortunate events which may be best simply listed: a trainee doctor out of his depth (bless him), a call for an emergency surgeon on the hospital tannoy system, being left in a room on my own bleeding onto my t-shirt while everyone rushed around trying to find said surgeon, being told that they couldn't give me any more drugs as I was over the limit now so the rest of the op would be painful (it was ...), no aftercare, wandering round the hospital in my blooded shirt (heck, no wonder people were staring!), and eventually getting home without any clear idea of how I managed it. My lodger at the time (a nurse) took one look at what they'd done and shrieked: Lord, they've butchered you ... Which did at least have the effect of making me laugh while I drank my gin. I bear the scars with something like a survivor's pride really ...

So, today I was a little nervous. However, in the event there hasn't been time to think. I went in to the clinic at 11.30am for a pre-op consultation, the very lovely surgeon took one look at it, said he'd need to do it there and then as it was infected and by the way please could he take a few photos as he'd never seen a furuncle cyst (aka boil, for the uninitiated in these things) so badly advanced before (naturally I let him - I do so love the camera under any circumstances ...). He had to bring the beast down in size before he could use the drugs (no, please, don't ask ...) and he then whipped up a few nurses and an ops trolley and did the dirty deed. After the drugs kicked in, it wasn't as bad as expected, hurrah.

I now therefore have the largest neck dressing I've ever seen - which did rather startle the good people of Tesco as I popped into the pharmacy on the way home - and enough antibiotics to kill a giraffe. The surgeon has also booked me in for a follow-up appointment next week - let's hope he doesn't discover anything else he wants to whip out, eh - and has commanded me in any case to ring the clinic immediately if I think the wretched beast might be on its way back again before then.

However, in the midst of all this, I am strangely heartened to think that the op scars on my back will now at last have a matching set on my front. How I do love to be symmetrical. But, then again how will I know which way I'm facing?...

Stay healthy, folks!

Anne Brooke
The Thoughtful Corner

Reviews, loos and blogs

Book News:

I've just finished the second round of edits for gay erotic short story, Dating the Delaneys, which is due out from Amber Allure on Sunday 6 November. My editor, the lovely and extremely wise E.J., is a pure genius and I am very grateful indeed for her suggestions for improvements to the story - thank you! I think, as a result, there are a good couple of books to go in the series, rather than the original one I was intending, well gosh.

Much to my delight, gay thriller, A Dangerous Man, has reached Round Two in the Rainbow Awards Cover Contest 2011, and is even a jury finalist - so many thanks to the judges for that.

Meanwhile, it's all go at my new publisher, Riptide Publishing. For the first time ever, I'm becoming involved in pre-launch marketing, which is fabulous. So far, I've drafted one set of general interview questions and six blog posts for use in a blog tour. It's hugely exciting and I can't wait to see what happens next. And as they open for business on 30 October, it's certainly going to be a fabulous lead up to Christmas. You can find out more at a recent Riptide interview - enjoy the read.

And at Vulpes Libris, I remain in a state of deep disappointment at the standards of Anne O'Brien's Devil's Consort. Sigh. Will nobody rid the reading world of badly-written historical novels? I won't hold my breath, alas ...

Here are some recent meditation poems:




Meditation 580
To build his beloved temple
great King Solomon
puts all the foreigners to work

which proves beyond doubt
how wisdom is his
but justice eludes him.




Meditation 581
Every word we speak
seeps into our skin
like water

and covers our bones
with the oil
of our own invention.

Our words are a belt
keeping us whole
or constraining us

so we are clothed
in the variable colours
of thought.




Meditation 582
In the sacred temple,
of all the objects
to name

the two bronze columns
wouldn’t have been
my choice

but then again
to great Solomon’s
greater shame

this contemporary woman
wouldn’t have had
a voice.



Life News:

Annoyingly (look away now if you're squeamish - please!...), the cyst on my collarbone that I've had for a little while has decided to make itself more fully known, as it were, so I spent rather too much of last night waking up and going: ow, ow, ow while I tried to find a comfortable position again. It took a couple of Nurofen Plus this morning to beat it back into some kind of normality. I've stuck a plaster on the pesky beast but it's still giving me twinges when I laugh or ... um ... move my arms, dang it. Not a pretty situation all round really. I'd been saving up to have it removed privately with my usual clinic (cosmetic issue, blah, blah - doctor therefore can't refer, blah blah ...) but today I bit the proverbial bullet and booked an operation for next Thursday in the evening. They did offer me tonight, but K and I (well, K and I and Carlos the Cyst) are off to the theatre tonight to see Alan Ayckbourn's Season's Greetings, and Carlos is very keen to go ... Thank God I don't have to buy him his own seat, eh. Though, actually, if I laugh too much, it may well come to that, hey ho (sorry!) ...

Keeping to matters bodily for a while, I'm delighted to know that The Guardian is finally acknowledging the cultural importance of loo-reading. I come from a family of keen loo-readers (though K has never understood it) - heck, on the apple farm we had special loo books which had their own loo shelf. What could be nicer? One should always keep essential reading matter as well as a steady supply of crosswords and pens in both the guest room and the Smallest Room in the house - hospitality is all ...

Moving to higher matters (phew, I bet that's a relief - ha! - for you all), I've been keeping my poinsettia in the dark for 8 hours a day as the Internet advises me and, by gum, some of the leaves are indeed turning red. Will it be fully red by Christmas? I do hope so! Though, really, I'm astonished the plant has survived so long under my less than tender care as I've had it for nearly a year now. It even somehow bounced back when it lost all its leaves during the summer and we were considering throwing it out. How I do admire a hardy spirit.

During the week, I've enjoyed a session of Lectio Divina at the University Chaplaincy, which included a very nice soup and bread lunch. It's a new project for them, and I'm very keen to support it. The more meditations and times of silence there are, the merrier - though I did used to be oh so much better at them. I've also had a great time catching up with A at work over lunch in the Cathedral Refectory - I am hugely envious of her recent holiday in Spain and we really must revisit it one day. It's my favourite country.

Finally, I must sing the praises of James May's Man Lab on TV, and also the wonderful new and very quirky detective series, Death in Paradise. Really, you can't go wrong with Ben Miller. Whatever he does, he's just great, and surprising sexy too. Or is that really just me?... In any case Tuesday nights are television nights for the next few weeks, that's for sure.

Anne Brooke
The Thoughtful Corner

Space, surgeons and streams

Book News:

I've started producing a daily paper on Twitter, composed of articles I find interesting. Today's edition looks at pets, poets and fantasy so if you're interested in any of these subjects, do take a peek!

One of my publishers, DWB Publishing, has just started a children's book site so please do log on and find out what's happening there. It's a very exciting year for them indeed.

Meanwhile it's World Space Week and Untreed Reads is discounting all sci-fi and fantasy books all month. This includes some of my own books, so grab a bargain today ... Some are only 50p so you can't go far wrong!

Not to be outdone in the bargain basement, Amber Allure Press is offering 25% off my books throughout October, so there's plenty here you can snuggle up to as autumn begins.

I'm also writing the final scene of my current gay short story, In the Silence of the Heart, which features desire, obsession, faithlessness and religion. Which is everything you could possibly want in about 10,000 words, hey ho.

Anyway, in honour of National Poetry Day (which is today), here's a poem I wrote about my garden:




Scarlet joy
The rose I find
written in red
beneath the lattice
knows its own glory

and radiates the strength
of this dying sun
into a different life,
another story.


Recent meditation poems are:




Meditation 572
Behind this brief list
of jobs and men

lies the need
of one man

to clothe himself
in wisdom again.




Meditation 573
Peace cannot come
from the spilling
of blood.

Fire breeds fire.

There is no answer
that violence
has ever truly given

and war is always a liar.


Life News:

Key excitements this week have included K nobly clearing the stream (AKA drainage ditch, but really I prefer the word stream ...) at the bottom of our garden of all its weeds and overgrown nastiness. What a hero. As a result we now have more general foliage than can possibly be crammed into our composter, or indeed any of our neighbours' composters. I feel a trip to the council tip coming on.

On Monday, we staffed the last of our new students' information points and were kept surprisingly busy throughout the day. In the past, we've taken the decision to shut up shop at about 1 or 2pm as the semester begins in full, but this time we only closed it at 4pm, well gosh. It's proved very popular throughout and I think we managed to help a fair amount of people, hurrah. If only because we are supremely good at interpreting what the room numbers mean. This week has actually been horrendously busy in the office as well - and at levels we weren't entirely expecting, but I think we've managed to muddle on through. I hope! I have to say it's nice to have the campus full of students again - makes it all worthwhile, you know.

Yesterday, K and I paid our first and introductory visit to our new doctor, who seems very nice indeed. Rather sweetly, she has a new application in which you feed in your health and family background data, and then it gives you your percentage survival chance. What fun! Apparently, K has a 96% chance of surviving the next ten years, and I have a 99% chance of so doing. Might be worth treating ourselves to those longed-for ten year diaries in this case. Keep breathing ...

Today, I continue to be the Queen of Busyness. This morning, Tesco have delivered my shopping (hurrah!) and this afternoon, I am expecting (a) the tree surgeons to arrive to give us a quote for removing 2 big hedges, 2 tall trees, 2 round trees, 1 spindly tree and nine or ten stumps (and possibly a partridge in a pear tree as well, but I thought they might throw that one in for free ...); (b) to go out and get my hair cut for the first time in three months (I might even be able to see out, goodness me) and (c) an evening trip to the ballet in Woking, to see Cleopatra. I do so love the Northern Ballet Theatre - I think they're great. Mind you, this does depend on whether K manages to leave work on time as he's been hugely busy this week as well. Here's hoping, eh.

Anne Brooke
The Thoughtful Corner

Tesco and topiary

Life News:

We've been in our new home for a week now and I'm loving it. The only downside is the influx of spiders we're getting (yuck!) but of course that's with having a garden and the joys of the season, I fear. Still, battling back, I have bought some spider doom equipment and a keep away spray so here's hoping that will thin out the wretched beasts. Even so, it's not as bad as where I grew up on a farm where the spiders were the size of wheels and frequently armed. Double yuck.

Other discoveries we've made this week are that we have a hazelnut tree, complete with nuts, in the garden and some hazelnut sprigs scattered around, and that the weird switch near the kitchen door lights up the under-the-cupboard areas around the kitchen walls. All very odd, but I imagine it will give the kitchen a romantic aura in winter, hey ho. Not convinced how vital it is however.

Our lovely friends, L & J, have once again come to the rescue and donated us their no-longer-wanted fridge freezer as our fridge has been broken for weeks. At the Woking flat, we'd resorted to keeping things in cool boxes in order to avoid serious food diseases. Now, it's bliss - we hadn't realised margarine could be so firm (as it were) as recently we've been all but drinking it. So another big round of applause for L & J - I fear that soon their house will be nothing but an empty shell as all their worldly goods eventually make their way to ours!...

This week, K has removed the area of dead lavender bush near the vegetable patch, and trimmed the topiary ball, which now looks far better. Hey, I've always wanted a topiary ball and now I have one! K didn't look keen when I mentioned wanting a matching pair, but he did so well with the trimming that I don't want him to lose the skill ... We've also ordered a composting bin from the council so we're seriously getting stuck in.

Yesterday, I popped into our old doctor's as I was due an appointment anyway and I wanted to say a proper goodbye as we're in the process of joining the Elstead one. She's been ruddy brilliant with me and my various ailments and I'll really miss her - but apparently not too much as I found out she lives two roads away from me in the village. Honestly, Elstead is truly the centre of the known universe, you know. All the best people come here.

Today, Jane H (hello, Jane!) came round for coffee, a chat and a tour of the estate (well, in my dreams, eh), which was fabulous. And she bought us a lovely French lavender bush as a house-warming present - thank you, Jane! - so we can plant that where we pulled out the dead lavender earlier on, hurrah. Plus, just now, Tesco have delivered enough shopping to feed the British army (should they arrive for tea ...) and I have fed the freezers, which should keep them happy for a while.

In the meantime, I'm waiting for British Gas to arrive to give us a first service, but no signs yet. Still, if we didn't have to wait for a gasman, then it wouldn't really be England, hey ho.

Book News:

I've started writing again, which has been very much on the back-burner for a week or so. I'm working on a literary gay short story at the moment, tentatively entitled In the Silence of The Heart, but I'm taking it steady and I think it be a while before I get properly into a routine again. But it's nice to be back, however lightly.

Literary lesbian short story The Girl in the Painting has surprised me again by turning up as the No 2 international bestseller in August at Untreed Reads, well gosh. And don't forget that there are a lot of book bargains to be had in September at the Untreed Reads bookstore - shop early, shop often!

Meanwhile, at Vulpes Libris Reviews, you can find my review of To Marry a Prince by Sophie Page, a right royal romance that's light-hearted and great fun and should take you happily into the autumn.

Here are this week's meditation poems:




Meditation 567
Somewhere in this cacophony
of trumpet, horn and harp,
shouts, wild applause and song

there must be a memory
of silence, an unheard voice
to rest upon.




Meditation 568
Even the holy Levites
needed administrators

which just goes to show
that a good secretary

is always worth her weight
in blessings.




Meditation 569
A list of holy names
in which I have
no real interest
fills my mind
and this quiet room.

I cannot catch
any wisdom here
and my frail attempts
at prayer
end too soon.


Anne Brooke
The Thoughtful Corner

Cars, contracts and cash

Book News:

You'll be pleased to hear that my US lawyer and I have agreed a wording for the new termination contract, so we've sent that off and await to hear a response ...

In the meantime, I'm carrying on with the final pre-submission read-through of Hallsfoot's Battle, the second in my Gathandrian trilogy. There are only about 100 pages to go now, so I'm hoping to get that done by the weekend (though it does depend on whether or not I have another day like today - see below ...). Once that's done, I'll send it to Bluewood Publishing and see what they think about it. Keeping with Bluewood, I've sent back the final proofs of literary short story, Dido's Tale, to them and that should be coming out soon, hurrah.

I'm also happy to say that The Hit List gained a lovely 5-star review at Amazon - many thanks, Sharon! It's especially pleasing as I know my main character, Jamie, isn't easy and people either love him or hate him, with nothing in between. Hmm, there's a lot of me in that bloke, you know - which probably says it all really. And For One Night Only gained a 4-star review at Goodreads - so many thanks, Enny.

Here's the next line of the prologue in The Gifting:

Neither is she the only one who weeps, but he cannot admit the full reasons for this now.

This week's meditation poems are:




Meditation 547
When even touching
God’s covenant box
in order to save it
is a mortal sin

then best to let
your treasures die
than use a box
to keep them in.




Meditation 548
Of all the gifts
in all the world
my first choice
would never have been
cedars and stonemasons;

the quiet dignity
of stone
and the gnarled depths
of this ancient tree
all but bypassed me.




Meditation 549
A sound in the trees
that is neither the wind
nor the cries of some night bird

but something absurd:
a reminder for we who have sinned
that somebody still sees.


Life News:

The mortgage survey for our Elstead house has finally come through and looks okay. Our new conveyancer has also contacted us to say she's going over the land searches now and has contacted the vendor's solicitors to ask for the necessary information from them. At the same time, the estate agents have rung us to say it's possible that we could exchange in three weeks' time and complete two weeks after that - which would bring us near enough to the end of August/start of September - and this is the first break point in our rental contract, so that would be convenient. However, I'm now never convinced by the optimism of estate agents, so I'm maintaining a wary approach to it all. But I have rung our moving company and so far that timing is good for them, although obviously dates disappear the nearer we get to any potential move day. Lordy, it's all go here in the shires, you know.

I've also fitted in a regular visit to the doctor (I was too ill to go last week ...) and everything with the anti-depressants looks good for another two months, so that's a relief. I really do think they're brilliant - I could probably never cope with all this hassle coming our way without them, and they certainly do make me feel more like I think I should, that's for sure. Never scorn the joys of normality, eh ...

Mind you, I've certainly needed their calming effects today. This morning, I popped in to see a good friend of mine in one of the local old people's homes, and on the way back, the alarm on my car dashboard went off and lots of red lights started flashing at me to say that the car engine was overheating. When I looked at the dial, it was way past 120 degrees centigrade and well into the red-light zone. I was panicking like a trooper (a wimpy, panicky trooper ...) so drove the few minutes to the nearest supermarket (where I was intending to go anyway to pick up some lunch) and waited for the engine to cool down while I phoned K and sobbed down the line at him like a 1950s teenager. My, I'm so dignified, you know. As if. Anyway, K suggested ringing the RAC for help, but I thought if it was just a coolant problem, then I could get some more coolant and put it in without disturbing our Knights of the Road too much. The supermarket unfortunately had no coolant so I drove to the garage attached to it whilst keeping a close eye on my dashboard and they had no coolant either. So there was no option but to drive home, at which point the dashboard went crazy again and the alarms sounded. It was only a couple of minutes to get home but honestly every traffic light was against me and every cyclist in Woking today insisted on getting ahead of me and not letting me pass, so I was praying and swearing in equal measure as I limped home.

Once there, I thought I'd let the beast cool down again before tackling it. However the traumas of the day weren't over yet. As I was eating my lunch, the rental agent phoned to say they hadn't received our rental for July which had been due with them on the 1st of the month. I apologised, panicked again and rang K who said he was sure he'd filled in a standing order at the start of June. The other agent I've been dealing with (the lovely Jenny) said she was sure we had as well so didn't know where it had gone and would look into it. K rang our bank and they confirmed they had no standing order instructions for rent, so after I'd tackled the car crisis and poured the whole of our one bottle of engine coolant into the vast desert wastes of my engine coolant holder, I walked into town at about 4pm and tried to pay money for July and August as a bank transfer to the rental agent's bank, the Natwest. Well, ho ho and there's a bank that obviously don't like the colour of our money. They said (even though I've done this with Santander and goodness knows they're certainly not the best bank in the market ...) that I couldn't transfer money from the Nationwide to them as I'd have to go to the Nationwide in order to do so, but in any case the Nationwide wouldn't let me do that with such a large amount of money and I'd be better off taking out as much actual cash as I could and then walking it over to them. Well, I mean to say! As if anyone could actually walk across the metropolis of downtown Woking carrying great wads of cash and expect to be alive after ten minutes ... Words failed me!... In the end, I gave up arguing my point and accepted that Natwest in Woking appears to live in the 1950s, wrote them a cheque payable to our rental agent for two months' rent, and accepted it wouldn't actually go into the agent's account until next Friday.

When I rang the rental agent to explain all this to them, they were astonished also, and couldn't believe nobody would accept a bank transfer from me. The only explanation I can think of is that unfortunately I had to deal with a staff member who didn't know her proverbial from her elbow, and wasn't going to ask any higher-up staff member for help either. Alternatively, I have a face with the words Criminal and Fraudster tattooed across my forehead and nobody has ever had the heart to tell me, deep deep sigh ...

Anyway, whilst in Woking I thought I'd shop for a few bits and pieces, including spare engine coolant, and managed to get everything apart from (of course) engine coolant. Apparently, Halfords is a twenty-minute walk (or a short drive, if you have a car you can trust ...) outside Woking, so I bit the bullet, rearranged my shopping bags (thankfully, not too much) and headed off into the sunset. Ye gods, that was further than I thought, though I did get a nice view of Woking's mosque on the way. Luckily Halford's were open until 8pm, so getting there at 5.15pm wasn't a problem, thank the Lord. Mission accomplished, I trudged back down the wearisome rainy road, wearing my woolly hat and fleece and looking like the height of fashion, I'm sure, and eventually reached home at about twenty minutes to six. I deposited the fresh bottle of coolant in the back of the car so if I get into trouble tomorrow when I'm hoping to play golf with Marian, at least I'll have something to drink if things get too bad. Hey ho.

Really, if it weren't for the magic happy pills, who the hell knows where I'd be. Has anyone got the smelling salts? Surely today - this nice quiet day I'd had planned - must be over by now ...

Anne Brooke

A wobbly week

Life News:

It's been a bit of a wobbly week, being back at work this week, I must say, and I don't think I've been my usual jolly self (ho ho). My head is so full of vast quantities of stuff that it's proving really tricky to sort it all out so I haven't really been trying. Office tasks seemed very long and complex when they probably shouldn't have been, plus I'm worrying (well, it's after Lent so I'm allowed to) about when our flat exchange date might be, if our buyer is going to hang on or give up, if we'll still be able to go to the rental property we like if we do suddenly have to move or if we'll be homeless, and whether our removal firm can fit us in even though I'm unable to explain anything useful to them at all. On top of all that, we're now seriously looking at other houses again if we can fit viewings in as nothing's moving on the house we've "bought" and it's been three months now and still no sniff of an exchange date, and the vendors' solicitors are being as unhelpful as ever, sigh. I honestly can't now remember what we liked about it, and neither can K really. It feels like a purchase someone other than us has made.

Anyway, today we've seen two other houses, one in Knaphill which we did like but K thinks it might be the "safe choice" and there's nothing that individual about it even though it's well within our price range, so I'm probably keener than he is. The other one in Pyrford was okay but way too near the main road, and therefore too noisy, which we both hate. On Saturday K is going to see another house in Woking that he's really keen on but I can't go as I'm seeing a friend in Kent. The plus points for that one are it's quiet, in a nice area, and there's no chain (though I understand the tenants are rather tricky, so that's a bit worrying), but it's over our budget and I'm a bit worried by that. Well, we'll see, eh.

It's rather disheartening as K and I promised ourselves last September that we'd be out of this flat by my birthday for sure - but as that's only a month and two days away now, I fear there's not much hope. In that case I suspect a tear or two will be shed when I reach that great milestone, birthday or no birthday, ah well. On the other hand, when we get to September and we're still here (goddammit), I suppose I can bake a one-year-house-hunt-failure celebration cake. What joy.

This week, I've also had my regular appointment with the doctor to see how the anti-depressants are working. Well, what could I say? I just told her I was having a wobbly week due to being back at work and period etc (sorry, too much information, probably ...) and decided to leave the rest of it unsaid as I couldn't think of the words. No doubt the wonder pills are making things better on a personal level than they otherwise would be, so thank God for small mercies.

Book News:

Sometime this or next week, The Gifting should, I hope, be published, so I'm busy preparing a launch party for, I think, sometime early July. I'm hoping to hold that at Godalming Museum but obviously it depends on schedules etc. I've got a list of about 40 people I'd like to invite, so with a bit of luck I should get 25 or so coming at least. I've just got to think of something to say and which passage to read. Best get my thinking cap on then.

This week's meditations are:


Meditation 526
The only ones mentioned
are the leaders
and the fighters.

Nobody thinks
of the cooks, the plumbers,
the gardeners or the writers.




Meditation 527
Shaharaim divorced
two wives

granting them shame
but also their lives.




Meditation 528
The fewer the words
the greater the thought

for it is in the spaces
that wisdom is caught.




Meditation 529
Long-forgotten names
are like stars:

a distant glitter
at the edge of your eye,

a strange coldness
patterning the sky.

Anne Brooke

A rollercoaster week

Life News:

Lordy, what a week. Some of it has been really, really nasty and some of it really nice. First off, we have sacked our estate agents, Mann Countrywide in Godalming. They deceived us in terms of not honouring their marketing promises, ie they didn't give us the formal weekly report during the four weeks we've been with them, and they don't, contrary to the brochure, pick you up for any viewings you arrange through them, in case you're wondering what those promises might have been. In addition they lied twice about putting our property in the Surrey Advertiser. When we complained about this, they didn't respond adequately, and apparently there's been a huge staff change-round between offices, and they have a new manager, James. Frankly, however, that's not our problem and we don't much care. We sent an official complaint last Friday, asking for the name of their Ombudsman. They ignored it. James rang on Saturday, apparently about something else, and we complained again. He asked for the email which he allegedly hadn't received and we sent it again. We made an arrangement for him to visit us last night with an explanation and details of who to complain to.

Last night, James arrived late, but not dishonourably so. I didn't offer him any drink, as I didn't want to. Why waste good coffee? He started to give a lot of marketing spiel about how it wasn't his fault and there'd been staff changes, but I stopped him saying I didn't want to hear any gubbins and he needed to get straight to the point. He didn't much like that. Tough. Interestingly he'd brought the last week's formal report for us to view - ie the only one we've ever seen. It was incorrect - it said that our flat had been in last week's Surrey Advertiser (it hadn't) and it said it had also been in this week's. How he knows that is anyone's guess as the Surrey Advertiser doesn't come out till tomorrow. I pointed out the factual errors. He began to bluster, again saying it wasn't his fault. He then accused me of lying about it not being in the Surrey Advertiser last week and asked if I'd apologise to him when I found out I was wrong. Understandably, neither I nor K took kindly to that. I don't appreciate being called a liar in my own home, or indeed anywhere else. He repeated his view that he was new in the role and it wasn't his fault. K pointed out that our first complaint had been sent on Friday (and ignored) and Friday was the start of his managerial watch at the firm, and he should therefore learn how to take responsibility, without excuses.

We repeated (for the third time of asking) our request that he provide us with the details of the property ombudsman so we could make an official complaint about Mann's actions. He refused to do so. We pointed out that, for all intents and purposes, our contract with Mann was over forthwith, as they had lied to us on at least two occasions and had not fulfilled their side of the contract. He refused to accept that, saying that we had signed a 10-week contract and we were therefore breaking it. The argument went on until he finally agreed that today (Thursday) he would send us an email by 12noon bringing the contract to an end. All the time, he was continuing to bluster and make excuses (not great customer service then ...), but when we'd agreed the contract was over, I asked him to leave and said we had no wish to have any further dealings with him. He left, slamming the door. Good manager then, um not ... Luckily the door appears unharmed, as otherwise we would have been adding the cost of any repair to our complaint also.

This morning, at 11.15am, James sends us a very high-handed email saying that he has decided to bring our contract to an end. So, the sad man, he still hasn't realised he's already broken it, and it's our decision to end it, and not his. And he still hasn't given us the details of who to complain to, even though it must be at least for the 6th time of asking. He can't be very good at (a) reading or (b) listening then ... However, the good news is that my lovely FB friends (thank you!) have sent me the link to the Property Ombudsman so I suspect I may well be forwarding those to James, as he obviously hasn't a clue who they are ... I also suspect he's going to find out pretty soon.

Meanwhile, the difficulties I've been having with AXA PPP and the Guildford Clinic - who basically seem to be using me as a go-between for their own financial disputes (not a great place for a patient to be in) - has gone some way to being resolved. I tweeted earlier in the week about how bad they were, and some Twitter AXA person got hold of it and has been sorting it out. Which just goes to show that the Internet does work, on occasion. The upshot is that they are going to pay the Guildford Clinic in spite of telling the Clinic they weren't (which resulted in my consultant's office sending me a very upsetting letter that I did not appreciate in any way), partly because they have on the phone twice promised me that they would pay the claim. Now it transpires that they're doing it ex-gratia, and will not cover me for similar necessary consultations again, as they say I have no symptoms. Bollocks, say I. As the medical profession has already noted, my symptoms are depression, hormonal imbalances and endometriosis - I'm not sure how any of them aren't a symptom, so I am distinctly not happy about how AXA are interpreting the rules, and I don't accept it. Watch this space ... I must say K's previous medical insurers were a million times better and far more pleasant to deal with than this. I only wish his firm hadn't changed them.

Anyway, seeing as I'm in the middle of getting rid of the rubbish in my life, I have terminated my MySpace account, as MySpace is now so dull as to be virtually comatose. Yawn. It's a relief to be rid of it. But, really, no wonder I'm back on the gin ...

And, tonight, K and I are off to the theatre to see Richard III, so am hoping for dark drama and angst. Hell, it's what I'm used to here in the twilight zone. But I bet bloody Richard hasn't had the bloody week I've had - his life is a walk in the park compared to mine!...

Book News:

Ooh look, we've got to the 'something nice' section, hurrah! I was thrilled to hear that the reason that the edits for The Gifting have apparently been a little delayed (though to be honest I hadn't even noticed) was that the editor was enjoying the story too much. Gosh! Glorious words for a writer to hear, I can tell you. Also, the lovely people at Bluewood Publishing have accepted my lyrical short story, Dido's Tale, for publication so I have been busy signing the contract and thinking about blurbs and cover art today. What fun!

Other excitements are that there's a one-day Thanksgiving sale on FRIDAY 26th at Untreed Reads so don't forget to pick up a bargain or two there tomorrow. And for November only there's 20% off the first 2 orders at Dreamspinner Press with the code HolidayDreams, so go on - make this stressed-out and potentially homeless writer's weekend a happier one. You know you want to ...

Meanwhile, at Vulpes Libris, you can read my review of Barbara Pym's A Glass of Blessings, which is a beautifully understated novel of quietness and kindness. Which I really could have done with this week - note to self: must read more Pym ... Anyway, I can very much recommend the read.

This week's meditations are:


Meditation 466
Murder being once done,
you may as well
make a strange habit of it

ensuring that in all journeys
you’ll at least
get a seat in the carriage.


Meditation 467


Beneath apparent love,
instead of silence or prayer
the politics of destruction appear

so sword and fire,
blood and weeping
dwell here.


Meditation 468


It all boils down
to the politics of land:
who possesses it
and who doesn’t.

Nobody imagines
that the skies,
the earth, the air
might actually be God’s.

Anne Brooke

Highly unlikely scenarios

Life news:

Ah, the house, the house. We are now so very deeply perplexed and bamboozled by it all that who knows what will happen with it. The latest ins and outs over the weekend were that the vendors didn't appear to like us doing something they hadn't expected, ie objecting to their fluid understanding of exchange and completion dates (Gawd bless 'em), and so kept ringing us asking us to ring the particular vendor who is unexpectedly on holiday in Croatia to sort it out. Um, no. There seemed little point doing this as (a) it's expensive, (b) if the vendors don't seem to speak with one voice then there's no point chatting to one of them without the other, (c) if they do speak with one voice, what's wrong with the one in the UK? and (d) we now want everything in writing so we can have some kind of confidence that any agreements made might actually happen.

In the end we turned the phone off to avoid the calls and withdrew our original offer on the grounds that they weren't taking the situation seriously enough. Interestingly our simple conveyancing case has been booted upstairs at our conveyancer and the Head Honcho is now dealing with it - and even sending very sweet and supportive emails at 10.30pm on a Sunday night. Well done to her, and we did need some support!

The upshot is that we have made a much lower offer, with provisions attached, and eventually (after recovering from the shock of us not jumping through all the hoops quite so willingly, if at all) the vendors have come back with another price slightly lower than their original one, but with a fair gap still between us, so we'll raise our offer slightly and then see what happens. In the meantime, we're also looking at Plan B which is do up our flat, put it on the market and move elsewhere. After all, though it would be nice to continue living here, our house isn't the only property in the area we can afford.

With this in mind, we have been spring-cleaning! A good thing for whether we stay or whether we go, for sure. I have washed the kitchen cupboards and have spent 4 hours today washing everything in the bathroom and clearing out the stuff I no longer use in there. I expected to find the head of John the Baptist, or possibly Shergar, in the bathroom cupboard but they must have moved out ... Which probably isn't too surprising as I did all the scrubbing (as it were) whilst wearing a shower cap on my head to keep my hair clean, as I couldn't find a suitable scarf. Thank goodness no-one came to the door! If it had been our vendors, that might have been the final straw for them, ha!

Later this afternoon, I am off to the clinic to see yet another gynae expert to work out if I might need any further operation at some point - my life is so glamorous this week, as you can see. Though this evening, we're off to the theatre so the day will at least end on a fun note.

And, is it just me, or is there just too much Stephen Fry on TV at the moment? I do love QI and admire some of his programmes, but that utterly dreadful advert for his latest book is just so self-obsessed that it turns my stomach. I was thinking of getting the book but I definitely won't now - at least until he rediscovers his English sense of humour again. Should have taken a tip from the Peter Mandelson advert, I think, Stephen ...

Book News:

I have to say how fed up I am with the number of writers' Yahoo groups I'm in, one of which has been irritating me so much with its general snippety attitude that it was a great relief to leave it last night. At last - freedom! I took the opportunity to leave some of the other ones too as I never read or take part in them - so am left only with the Yahoo groups that are publisher-specific as those are the most useful ones. It seems a sensible way forward anyway.

Meanwhile, The Delaneys and Me paid a brief visit to the Amazon charts once more, at no 69 no less(!), but it ain't there now. Ah well.

This week's meditations are:

Meditation 420
If you want
to commit sins

don’t just copy
your father’s crimes

but do at least try
to be original.


Meditation 421
The quietness of stone
and the warmth of wood

are an everlasting counterpoint
to war’s harsh music.


Meditation 422
Blood leads to blood
and wars never cease

so no-one remains
who might speak of peace.


Meditation 423
It’s not the sin
you commit
that kills you

but the sin
you make
others commit.

Anne Brooke

The Girl in the Painting

I'm pleased to say that my literary feminist story, The Girl in the Painting, has now been published and more information can be found at my website. You can purchase a copy at Amazon US and at Smashwords, in a variety of formats, hurrah! There's also a book trailer for your enjoyment. Never say I don't look after your essential reading needs.

Keeping to the topic of short stories, I was astonished to see that for a very brief period Dancing with Lions was number 94 in the Amazon US Biblical fiction charts. Heck, I've never been there before, and I'm not there now, but ah the memory is sweet.

I'm also pleased to note that during last week's Read an Ebook Week, my short stories, How to Eat Fruit and Dancing with Lions were downloaded over 90 times. Well, gosh. I hope those readers enjoyed the experience.

My final piece of short story news is that A Stranger's Touch is available as a Kindle ebook and now even has its first five-star Amazon review there, well double gosh and crack open the champers! Thank you very much, Sirius11214 - that's made my day big-time. And yes, that is exactly what I intended the story to mean - I'm so glad it worked for you, thank you.

Meanwhile, back at Hallsfoot's Battle (anyone remember that??), I've now received the edits back from my ex-agent editor who commented: this is very good, much better than even the revised version of The Gifting. Which to me means a heck of a lot, as I've been worrying desperately about mid-series droop and whether any of it was remotely interesting at all. Thank you, John. Maybe I might just be a fantasy author after all, if the wind's in the right direction and there's a R in the month. Anyway, I'm going through his edits which are very very useful indeed and whipping the thing further into shape.

I've also uploaded my review of Megan Taylor's wonderfully dark literary novel, The Dawning at Vulpes Libris, and can thoroughly recommend the book. Great stuff, Megan!

In my other life, I've finished my online poetry course. I must admit I haven't enjoyed it as much as last term's and I don't think I'll be doing another for a while, but it's helped with the poetry. Always a good thing. I've also had my annual cholesterol blood test at the doctors - oh the fasting, the lack of breakfast and the desperate whimpering. I'm not known for my courage, ah well. We've endured a really weird day at work yesterday when everything went wrong that could go wrong - was it the feng shui lines?? Thank God there was chocolate cake around - we'd never have survived without it. And I've had a wonderfully relaxing hour at reflexology today. Bliss. Whatever would I do without my reflexologist?

Tonight, Lord H and I are out at the theatre to see The Secret of Sherlock Holmes with the gorgeous Peter Egan. When I was young, I was so in love with him, you know (don't tell Lord H - though actually he already knows this, and may well wonder if I'm going to throw my knickers on the stage in the manner of Essex Gals tonight ...), but I suspect we've all moved on since those glory days. Still, if you do hear tell of an arrest in the Guildford theatre, then no doubt it will be me. I hope you'll all vouch for my good character. Hey ho.

Anne Brooke - scrubs up well, if given enough time
The Prayer Seeker's Journal - getting distracted by life

Salt, Gold and Sexy Scavengers

I'm pleased to say that the revised version of Salt and Gold is now available from the Lulu store at a very reasonable price, if anyone is so tempted. I'm hoping it will also be available on Amazon at some point, but I'll let you know when that transpires. And if they allow it.



Speaking of which, here's today's poem:

Meditation 230

Sometimes blindness
leads to sight

and palm trees
to iron chariots.

Everything that is
contains its opposite

twin and is as fluid
as the ungraspable air.


Have had a lovely morning today - my first port of call was a glorious back and facial massage with Alice, the Clarins gal. My, how I've needed that this week - the thought of it has been keeping me going through the start of the week for sure. After that I also met Jane H (hello, Jane!) for lunch and a catch-up, which was totally lovely. Really, I should do more of this Lady of Leisure stuff - I think it suits me.

On the way back, I popped into the doctor's to pick up my latest prescriptions, but only one of them was in store - so I have a fresh supply of nasal spray (hurrah! Breathing is sooo useful ...), but have to go back tomorrow for my HRT packages. And it's such a nightmare to park at the surgery at the moment too as they appear to be rebuilding it from scratch. The poor pharmacy lady has to ply her trade from what is little more than a Portaloo.

Anyway, this afternoon, I have been updating my website with the latest poetry news, and creating mini-sites for Salt and Gold - as above - and also for A Stranger's Table. I'm pleased that both my extant poetry collections now have their own separate worlds, however tiny.

I've also been continuing the edit to The Hit List, and am now on page 200, which is about two-thirds through. It's a real slow-burn romance, that one, but I like it and it seems right for the angsts and uncertainties of the two men involved. They'll get there. They're just taking their time.

Tonight, I'm looking forward to It Takes Two, with Claudia, and - are the rumours true? - is Boris Johnson in EastEnders?? Now there's something I really have to watch. But, my goodness, soon we won't be able to tell real life and fantasy life apart at all ...

Finally, and very excitingly, I've been included in the Dark Divas Sexy Scavengers October competition and there are a multitude of book prizes to win (including one of my own books). So do pop along and enter. The deadline is (of course!) Halloween. Good luck!

Today's nice things:

1. The revised Salt and Gold collection
2. Poetry
3. Clarins massage
4. Lunch with Jane
5. Website
6. A Stranger's Table having its own small page
7. Editing The Hit List
8. TV
9. The Sexy Scavengers competition.

Anne Brooke
Sexy Scavengers - the place to be

Reviews, meetings and prescriptions

I’m delighted to say that Maloney’s Law has been given a very positive review by Val Kovalin at Obsidian Bookshelf – so thank you very much, Val, for that. So glad you enjoyed the read! I’m also happy to say that Ruth at work seems to have enjoyed The Bones of Summer – so thanks for reading, Ruth.

Meanwhile here’s this morning’s poem:

Meditation 195

The power of politics
to subdue, condemn

shows to the fallen
the danger of men.

The power of politics
to condemn, subdue

is never a threat
until it condemns you.


Today, I’ve been rushing around sorting out the emails I’ve gained at the end of last week – it’s beginning to hot up now with term starting in less than two months … And I’ve had to face a meeting of the Project Welcome Forum, plus another with the Health Centre people. I was steeling my resolve for a third but thankfully that’s been rescheduled until tomorrow. Phew. It might give me time to catch my breath and start writing up the dang things.

Tonight, I need to pick up my HRT prescription before the pills run out (arrggh!) and if I get time I might also pop in on Gladys. I have a whole new birdseed bag to start. Ooh, and there’s a new series of Would I Lie To You on TV, which I love. David Mitchell is so fabulous.

Today’s nice things:

1. The Maloney’s Law review
2. Ruth enjoying The Bones of Summer
3. Poetry
4. Having a meeting rescheduled, hurrah
5. TV.

Anne Brooke – climbing a mountain of paperwork with a merry song, ho ho
Vulpes Libris – meditating on the miracle of wealth

Short stories and the movie mogul

Ye gods and little fishes, but I actually feel marginally better today. Bloody hell, eh. I discovered that some rather pricey castor oil which my natural health lady recommended for me a couple of years ago was still lurking in the cupboard, so in desperation I smeared it all over my throat and did a wonderful impression of a chip for the evening. Bizarrely, and Lord alone knows how it works, but it actually did clear the breathing passages in a non scary way. I still only got two hours' sleep, but I didn't spend the rest of the night snorting like a dying horse or vomiting. Well not as much anyway. Hurrah!

This morning, I managed to grab a doctor's appointment at as near to first thing as makes no difference, so I made my way there, courtesy of Lord H, clutching the essential sick bags, just in case. Really, I'm a style icon, you know. One day, all the top models will be carrying sick bags. Though perhaps, with their lifestyles, they already do. Sadly though, after a good chat with the doctor, we decided that I was probably already doing everything I should be doing and there wasn't anything else they could do anyway. Interestingly, the doctor thought that my problems this week might have been caused by having the viral infection alongside the catarrh infection (rather than one at a time, as usual), and both of them were therefore feeding off each other and sending my body into virtual shut-down mode - which might explain why it's gone on so long and been so utterly dreadful. I will either get better or ... um ... die. Ah the joys and strengths of the NHS indeed. This choice would have sent me into the deepest realms of despair if the castor oil hadn't been doing its thing. I think I'll attempt to choose the first of the options given to me therefore.

As the day has progressed, there have been further improvements and I've even eaten lunch (well, soup - a whole bowlful) and started doing some writing-related activities (of which more below). But I do want to say a huge and heartfelt thank you to everyone who's been so lovely with emails, tips, advice and blog support over the last (rather horrific) week. It's helped such a lot. Thank you. I do still feel a bit dodgy though, so have cancelled Easter - well, Easter with Mother anyway. We'll be having a delayed Easter (much like the Orthodox churches, who always have it a few weeks after the rest of Christendom) over the first of the May bank holidays instead - I just hope the presents I've got her won't be out-of-date by then.

For the rest of the day, I have done fun stuff on the computer relating to my short stories. First off, I've rehashed my website short story pages so that now you get information on two of my upcoming stories, Painting from Life and The Voyage. Plus details about my longstanding comic short story, Not a Shred of Evidence, which is still available in Gatto Publishing's story collection. There are extracts from the beginning of all three tales on my site, so enjoy the reads. And the pictures are of course fabulous too (especially as one of them is by me indeed!).

I've also created a book trailer for Painting from Life, which I'm very pleased with. I won't upload it anywhere yet though - not till we're nearer the May publication date. Still, I'm happy with the results, it was a lot of fun and I am now the Movie Expert of Godalming. Well, of the flat at least.

Ooh, and Leslie from Bristlecone Pine Press has been running some competitions and, out of the winners, two people chose Pink Champagne and Apple Juice and one chose Thorn in the Flesh as their prizes - so whoever you are out there I hope you enjoy the reads. Honestly, hearing that news is like being picked first in the school netball - or hockey - or tennis - or anything else at all team (whereas I was always picked last in actual fact) ... Leslie has also kindly said she'll include these in my royalties, so thank you for that also!

Today's nice things:

1. Being slowly but resolutely (at last! at last!) on the mend. I hope ...
2. Working on my website
3. Creating a book trailer for Painting from Life
4. Lovely people choosing two of my books as prizes, well gosh.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website - telling the stories you want to hear ...

A visit to the doctor and the Swedish detective

Another relatively short blog today. And one obsessed by illness. Sorry, but that's really all I'm doing at the moment - being ill. Had a really bad night last night and only managed about one hour's sleep as my ears were so painful from the nasty catarrh thing. Coughing was rough too. So as I've now not eaten anything worth the naming of it since Tuesday morning, I rang up the doctor first thing and made an appointment. I just got worried, I think, as usually I get rid of these attacks in a couple of days and I'm now on my fourth day.

Anyway, Lord H took me to the surgery, and the good news is my lungs, ears and throat are okay. It's just the catarrh problem we need to kick back (which I knew, I suppose). So I now have a box of antihistamine tablets (which I haven't taken before) as the doctor hopes that might get me through the worst of it over the next few days. And he told me not to worry about the food thing and to keep drinking. Really, I just want to be well enough for the Sunday reading, and of course I'm supposed to be on conference next week. Honestly the surgery pharmacist greeted me like an old friend when I popped my head round the door - which was brave of her really, seeing as I haven't dared to wash my hair (ears, people, ears!) and I hadn't been arsed to put any make-up on. Well, these days, I'm there often enough - maybe I'm her best customer. I also bought some Complan (a meal substitute for people who can't eat) and have had a mug of that once at home. So I'm less worried about morphing into some kind of super-being who doesn't actually need food, or sleep, now - and at least I've had some vitamins.

However, one good thing about today is I have had the odd bout of sneezing - any catarrh/sinus sufferers out there will know how wonderful that can be! - which gives me some hope. And I've had another hour's sleep on the sofa, though of course it took me a while to get back on an even keel after the bad move of actually lying down, sigh ...

Meanwhile, I've read my first of the Henning Mankell Wallander books (of the four we have - well, Lord H is very fond of them) - this is the original one called Faceless Killers. It's strangely addictive and quirkily written. There's a lot of telling rather than showing, but somehow here that doesn't matter. It's very ... um ... Swedish. Other things that Lord H has noted as possibly being very Swedish is the constant mentions of the weather. And goodness me, what a lot of mentions there are. The man is obsessed with snow, and the possibility of it. Wallander also thinks a lot and has a lot of headaches, as well as carrying out a lot of his investigations in the dark. Well, it is Sweden after all. I enjoyed it. It's perfect reading for when you're ill. I'm onto my next one in the series now.

Today's nice things:

1. Making a decision to go to the doctor
2. Getting a new pill
3. Sneezing
4. Complan
5. Books.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website - hoping for another bout of sleep and sneezing, soon please God