Have had rather a peculiar day today - it feels most unsettling, though perhaps I'm just overtired? As it were. Or maybe it's the existential shock (if shock can be existential) of having to go to work tomorrow. Heck, I'd only just got used to being off. Anyway, the lovely news is that All Things Girl webzine have accepted my short story, The Wilderness Room, for publication in April, so that's cheering me greatly through it all. I'm especially pleased as it is rather off-the-wall as a story, so I wasn't sure they'd like it - I'm so glad they do! I'll let you know when it's up on their site, and would love to know your thoughts. And, of course it rather helps to make up for the two rejections I've had over the weekend for other stories, which I've turned round and sent off into the ether once more. While I was in the mood, I've also submitted some more poetry to a new magazine, so we'll see how that fares.
Talking of matters literary, here's this morning's meditation piece:
Meditation 97
Something about snakes:
dark poison seeping
through the blood,
swallowing life
piece by piece,
the onward fragile journey
of us all.
And then the bronze
serpent glinting in gold light
high on its distant branch
as evening drifts in.
Think how its empty eyes
echo the healing moon.
Bizarrely, Lord H and I actually saw a grass snake when we ventured out for a little pre-lunch stroll this morning, so obviously it's a day for snakes. In all shapes and sizes. It's also a day for tractors - I've written my third ever haibun and it's about ... um ... tractors. I'm not entirely convinced about it, but hell it's there. And sometimes that's all you can really say about a piece of writing. I suspect I'll have to think about it again later. But not today.
I've also managed to write another 500 words or so of Hallsfoot's Battle and am beginning to work on end scenes. That's not actually because I'm there in real-time (so no need to cheer) but because I'm leaving the very difficult and wide-ranging (well, one hopes, eh ...) battle scenes and jumping over them until the end. Ah the joy of not having to write in linear time - sometimes that's a lifesaver for cowards like me who haven't got the nerve to face the tricky sections yet. I think I'm going to have to feel strong in order to do them. Ah well, don't wait up, eh.
This afternoon, I can feel the siren song of a nap calling me, and I also feel an urge to do a puzzle or two. Though I do have to prepare my homework for next week's Bible study or I won't have a clue what's going on. Not that that's ever stopped me having an opinion, of course, and the right opinion at that. Ho ho.
Tonight, it's the return of the glorious Lewis on TV, and I'm so looking forward to two hours of murder, charm and gentle wit to round off my Sunday. What more could you ask for?
This week's haiku:
The calm morning brings
a day of gardens and song
drifting through the skin.
Today's nice things:
1. Short story acceptance
2. Poetry
3. Hallsfoot end scenes
4. Napping
5. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - a snake in the grass is worth two in the bush ...
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label haibun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label haibun. Show all posts
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Theatre seats, Hallsfoot and a surprising venture
Well, my dears, well. What more can I say? Lord H and I were somewhat disappointed by our trip to the theatre last night - our name plaques were not yet on our seats (even though they'd been promised) and so our moment of glory is delayed once more. Sigh ... Naturally I fired off a "Disgruntled of Godalming" email to the theatre, and they have replied saying the plaques will be there next week. We live in hope, eh ... After all, I don't want to be chaining myself to the stage door. Again. These winter nights are perishing cold. I also have to say that Life & Beth isn't one of Ayckbourn's best. By a long chalk. I think Lord H's analysis was (as ever) spot-on: it would be best as a one-act play that can be combined with something really funny in the second half. That would do it, I think ...
But to today. Here's this morning's meditation:
Meditation 55
Something is lost.
Between the entrance
and the altar
the gift of guilt
slips through
your fingers,
leaves you
with nothing.
Take hold
of the air
in your lungs.
Let it rise, sifted.
I'd expected a horrendously overpacked day today that would wipe me out completely, but as it turns out it's not been too bad. We didn't play golf this morning due to torrential rain so that's given me an essential breather, though I've missed actually playing. In the extra time alloted me, I've written another 1000 words of Hallsfoot's Battle, which brings me to 81,800 words or so. When I tackle it next, I'll return to see what Johan and Annyeke are up to. On the brink of total disaster, they need to come up with something. And I mustn't forget Ralph either. Lordy, the responsibilities we novelists have - all these characters are beating away at my head, demanding attention, and I feel totally unable to provide for any of their needs. The poor dears. We struggle on together ...
I've also, much to my surprise - though I do admit that it's a story that's been going round my head for quite a while - written my first lesbian erotic short story, Truth or Dare. Indeed, my first erotic short story of any kind. Well, better out than in, they say. And hell it was fun to write, I have to admit - just a shame that the hairdresser arrived in the middle of it, and I had to get out of my lesbian sex head and into my normal Surrey Woman head. Pretty damn quick. Otherwise, poor Lynda might have had to flee for the hills, never to return ... Anyway, both our honours are intact (phew!), and it's now written. It feels like a companion piece to The Secret Smell of Lemons, so it will be interesting to see if anyone bites. As it were. Meanwhile, my hair looks fabulous, dahlings, fabulous.
Oh, and I've managed to write a non-meditative poem, so I have not been idle. I've also had my second Alexander Technique class, which I am hugely enjoying. I can see the differences, even this early on. The woman who teaches it is easy to get on with too, so that's a relief.
Tonight, Lord H and I are at the panto (Oh no you're not! Oh yes you are! And so on ...) seeing Ruth's husband, Douglas, play the dame in Mother Hubbard. He's totally marvellous on stage so I'm looking forward to that. He's behind you! (Sorry, that just popped out ...). So, as you can see, it's just another ordinary day here in the Surrey outback. Hey ho.
Today's nice things:
1. Poetry
2. Unexpected free time
3. Writing Hallsfoot
4. Lesbian erotic stories
5. A nice haircut
6. My Alexander Technique class
7. Dame Douglas ...
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - a change is as good as a rest, you know
But to today. Here's this morning's meditation:
Meditation 55
Something is lost.
Between the entrance
and the altar
the gift of guilt
slips through
your fingers,
leaves you
with nothing.
Take hold
of the air
in your lungs.
Let it rise, sifted.
I'd expected a horrendously overpacked day today that would wipe me out completely, but as it turns out it's not been too bad. We didn't play golf this morning due to torrential rain so that's given me an essential breather, though I've missed actually playing. In the extra time alloted me, I've written another 1000 words of Hallsfoot's Battle, which brings me to 81,800 words or so. When I tackle it next, I'll return to see what Johan and Annyeke are up to. On the brink of total disaster, they need to come up with something. And I mustn't forget Ralph either. Lordy, the responsibilities we novelists have - all these characters are beating away at my head, demanding attention, and I feel totally unable to provide for any of their needs. The poor dears. We struggle on together ...
I've also, much to my surprise - though I do admit that it's a story that's been going round my head for quite a while - written my first lesbian erotic short story, Truth or Dare. Indeed, my first erotic short story of any kind. Well, better out than in, they say. And hell it was fun to write, I have to admit - just a shame that the hairdresser arrived in the middle of it, and I had to get out of my lesbian sex head and into my normal Surrey Woman head. Pretty damn quick. Otherwise, poor Lynda might have had to flee for the hills, never to return ... Anyway, both our honours are intact (phew!), and it's now written. It feels like a companion piece to The Secret Smell of Lemons, so it will be interesting to see if anyone bites. As it were. Meanwhile, my hair looks fabulous, dahlings, fabulous.
Oh, and I've managed to write a non-meditative poem, so I have not been idle. I've also had my second Alexander Technique class, which I am hugely enjoying. I can see the differences, even this early on. The woman who teaches it is easy to get on with too, so that's a relief.
Tonight, Lord H and I are at the panto (Oh no you're not! Oh yes you are! And so on ...) seeing Ruth's husband, Douglas, play the dame in Mother Hubbard. He's totally marvellous on stage so I'm looking forward to that. He's behind you! (Sorry, that just popped out ...). So, as you can see, it's just another ordinary day here in the Surrey outback. Hey ho.
Today's nice things:
1. Poetry
2. Unexpected free time
3. Writing Hallsfoot
4. Lesbian erotic stories
5. A nice haircut
6. My Alexander Technique class
7. Dame Douglas ...
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - a change is as good as a rest, you know
Monday, January 19, 2009
Books, feet and haibuns
First off, here’s this morning’s meditation poem:
Meditation 51
The things I recall:
corn crushed to nothing,
olive oil, bread,
salt for preservation
and the extraordinary lack
of honey.
Where life should be,
death lies waiting,
barely noticed
amongst yeast and memory.
Hmm, ideal musing indeed for what appears to be Blue Monday, as it’s supposed to be the most depressing day of the year today. Seems not too bad so far, but heck there’s still time for various disasters to develop …
However, as an antidote to the blues, the lovely Sue from the Health Centre is going to be reading Thorn in the Flesh at her March book group and I’ve been invited to attend – so thanks for that, Sue, and I hope I can make the date.
And there are other exciting literary announcement too. Charles at Ink Sweat and Tears webzine has been kind enough to publish my lesbian haibun, The Secret Smell of Lemons today, so do pop along and have a read. Thanks, Charles! Added to that is the fact that Haruah Magazine have accepted two of my Meditation Poems for publication and are also interested in reviewing A Stranger's Table and my cup indeed runneth over. Thank you, Rochita - I really appreciate that too.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the AUA conference information has turned up – rather earlier than usual, if memory serves me – so I can have fun working out what I might be able to do at the sessions. If I can understand what the titles mean, that is.
This lunchtime, I had another blissful reflexology session with Emily – so that chilled me out for the afternoon. Which was greatly needed as it’s term-time once more and therefore a 5.30pm finish. Ah it’s that last half-hour that breaks the back, you know … Mind you, I had to walk back to the office after the session in the pouring rain, so that took the edge off it somewhat. Sigh.
And tonight, I’m leading the University Book Group in a discussion of Tania Hershman’s short story collection, The White Road and Other Stories. I’ve had to fiddle my approach a bit, as I’m not sure whether they’ll have been able to get hold of copies as I know there’s been an issue with the printing of the second edition – but I’ve tried to cover for all eventualities by thinking up questions I can ask if none of them have read it and questions I can ask if they have. It’s all done by smoke and mirrors, as ever. UPDATE - it was wonderful. We had a great discussion - even the man who didn't like short stories, science or magic realism said it made him think and widened his reading horizons. Plus they asked me to read out Heavy Bones (as the general group favourite in the book) in my usual Essex accent which I did and they loved the story even more. Ah, I knew my accent would come in handy one day, you know ... Those of them who didn't manage to get hold of the book are now going to do so and read it, and they're more open to looking at short stories again because of it so a great success and thank you to Tania for writing such a great collection.
At home, I’m planning to do as little as possible, though I will watch the final part of Hunter. Lord H thought yesterday’s sudden revelation of the identity of the criminal at the very end of Part One would have been better if it had just been hinted at, so there would have been more to speculate about for tonight’s denouement. Really, he should be a drama consultant – he’s definitely got the gift.
And this week’s hero (by a majority opinion we’re only allowed one this week) is Barack Obama – mainly because Andrea thinks he’s truly wonderful. Which I’m sure he is, of course – but it’s politics and I’m sorry but I can’t get hugely excited about it. The cynical side of me says give him a couple of years and you won’t tell the difference from the last one (hush my mouth!), but I appreciate I’m a lone voice! Again.
I've also just finished reading Fiona Sampson's utterly stunning poetry collection, Uncommon Prayer. Frankly it's wonderful - a rich and intricate layering of humanity and our relationship with the world of the senses. If you read anything this year, please read this one. Sometimes you have to think and focus on what she's saying but really it's worth it every time. A tour-de-force of poems.
Today’s nice things:
1. Poetry
2. Thorn being in a book group schedule
3. Reflexology
4. The University book group
5. TV
6. My haibun being published
7. Two of my Meditation Poems being accepted
8. An offer to review A Stranger's Table
9. Uncommon Prayer.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - thoroughly enjoying the day
Meditation 51
The things I recall:
corn crushed to nothing,
olive oil, bread,
salt for preservation
and the extraordinary lack
of honey.
Where life should be,
death lies waiting,
barely noticed
amongst yeast and memory.
Hmm, ideal musing indeed for what appears to be Blue Monday, as it’s supposed to be the most depressing day of the year today. Seems not too bad so far, but heck there’s still time for various disasters to develop …
However, as an antidote to the blues, the lovely Sue from the Health Centre is going to be reading Thorn in the Flesh at her March book group and I’ve been invited to attend – so thanks for that, Sue, and I hope I can make the date.
And there are other exciting literary announcement too. Charles at Ink Sweat and Tears webzine has been kind enough to publish my lesbian haibun, The Secret Smell of Lemons today, so do pop along and have a read. Thanks, Charles! Added to that is the fact that Haruah Magazine have accepted two of my Meditation Poems for publication and are also interested in reviewing A Stranger's Table and my cup indeed runneth over. Thank you, Rochita - I really appreciate that too.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the AUA conference information has turned up – rather earlier than usual, if memory serves me – so I can have fun working out what I might be able to do at the sessions. If I can understand what the titles mean, that is.
This lunchtime, I had another blissful reflexology session with Emily – so that chilled me out for the afternoon. Which was greatly needed as it’s term-time once more and therefore a 5.30pm finish. Ah it’s that last half-hour that breaks the back, you know … Mind you, I had to walk back to the office after the session in the pouring rain, so that took the edge off it somewhat. Sigh.
And tonight, I’m leading the University Book Group in a discussion of Tania Hershman’s short story collection, The White Road and Other Stories. I’ve had to fiddle my approach a bit, as I’m not sure whether they’ll have been able to get hold of copies as I know there’s been an issue with the printing of the second edition – but I’ve tried to cover for all eventualities by thinking up questions I can ask if none of them have read it and questions I can ask if they have. It’s all done by smoke and mirrors, as ever. UPDATE - it was wonderful. We had a great discussion - even the man who didn't like short stories, science or magic realism said it made him think and widened his reading horizons. Plus they asked me to read out Heavy Bones (as the general group favourite in the book) in my usual Essex accent which I did and they loved the story even more. Ah, I knew my accent would come in handy one day, you know ... Those of them who didn't manage to get hold of the book are now going to do so and read it, and they're more open to looking at short stories again because of it so a great success and thank you to Tania for writing such a great collection.
At home, I’m planning to do as little as possible, though I will watch the final part of Hunter. Lord H thought yesterday’s sudden revelation of the identity of the criminal at the very end of Part One would have been better if it had just been hinted at, so there would have been more to speculate about for tonight’s denouement. Really, he should be a drama consultant – he’s definitely got the gift.
And this week’s hero (by a majority opinion we’re only allowed one this week) is Barack Obama – mainly because Andrea thinks he’s truly wonderful. Which I’m sure he is, of course – but it’s politics and I’m sorry but I can’t get hugely excited about it. The cynical side of me says give him a couple of years and you won’t tell the difference from the last one (hush my mouth!), but I appreciate I’m a lone voice! Again.
I've also just finished reading Fiona Sampson's utterly stunning poetry collection, Uncommon Prayer. Frankly it's wonderful - a rich and intricate layering of humanity and our relationship with the world of the senses. If you read anything this year, please read this one. Sometimes you have to think and focus on what she's saying but really it's worth it every time. A tour-de-force of poems.
Today’s nice things:
1. Poetry
2. Thorn being in a book group schedule
3. Reflexology
4. The University book group
5. TV
6. My haibun being published
7. Two of my Meditation Poems being accepted
8. An offer to review A Stranger's Table
9. Uncommon Prayer.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - thoroughly enjoying the day
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Hallsfoot, haibuns, shops and books
It took me a while to get back in the saddle today (doesn't it always?) but I have now managed to add another 1000 words to Hallsfoot's Battle, which brings me to just over 71,000 words in total. The mind-executioner's telling of the Third Gathandrian Legend has just ended and now Simon is going to be faced with a real challenge. Which I'll leave hanging nicely in the air (aha! cue evil authorial laughter ...) while I get back to what Ralph is up to in the Lammas Lands and what Annyeke and Johan are up to back in the mother country. Not to mention the elders and the snow-raven. Always leave the reader wanting to know the rest - that's the plan anyway ...
I've also had the great news that the lovely Charles at Ink Sweat and Tears Magazine has accepted my haibun, The secret smell of lemons, for publication and it should appear on the webzine over the next month or so. So thanks for that, Charles - much appreciated. Haibuns (in case you're confused) are a combination of poetic prose and haikus, and I don't do many but they're very enjoyable when I do - it seems to be a chance to go deeper into what I'm attempting to describe and to play about with things more. Quite a challenge really.
Here's this morning's meditation poem:
Meditation 35
The desert sends dryness
on your tongue,
all the bitter aching sun of it.
You can never go home,
sure in the knowledge
that too much gift
is worse than no gift.
You search and search.
Find only
rock and sand
and loneliness.
This afternoon, I've bravely tackled the arid plains of Waitrose in an attempt to stock up for New Year. Not that we need to stock up much as there are only two of us and we don't go out and party, but we'd run out of fruit, and no-one can live on mince pies alone. Not even Lord H. So I feel fulfilled in a housewifely way in that we are at least likely to survive the next week or so. Even if we have to live purely on bananas.
I've just finished Reginald Hill's latest Dalziel and Pascoe novel, A Cure for All Diseases. Oh dear, oh dear. Here's my review which also appears on Amazon:
"I'm usually a great fan of the Dalziel and Pascoe novels, but this is one of the poorer ones. Frankly the first 200 or so pages are not worth reading and are very dull. It's only on Page 205 (in my paperback edition) when the murder finally happens that the novel actually commences. If I were you, I'd start there and you've lost nothing. I can also recommend skipping entirely any of Charley's boring and long-winded emails - they're not worth the read either. Other than that, the rest of it is fine. Though there are far, far too many exclamation marks scattered throughout the book, which gives an unfortunately amateur feel. The one really good thing is at least we do get a lot of the marvellous Franny Root - he's fabulous and holds the book together. More power to his elbow, as that's a hard task indeed. One for the committed fans only, and let's hope Hill is back on form with the next one."
Tonight, I shall be flicking through the Radio Times to see if there's anything on TV after the extravaganza of New Year - I need more plot inspiration and where better to get that from than the telly? So if Simon or the mind-executioner suddenly start burying someone under the patio or walk out of their own weddings in a huff, you'll know what to blame ...
Today's nice things:
1. Getting back to Hallsfoot
2. Having a haibun accepted
3. Poetry
4. The Radio Times.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - hoping for a feast of TV
I've also had the great news that the lovely Charles at Ink Sweat and Tears Magazine has accepted my haibun, The secret smell of lemons, for publication and it should appear on the webzine over the next month or so. So thanks for that, Charles - much appreciated. Haibuns (in case you're confused) are a combination of poetic prose and haikus, and I don't do many but they're very enjoyable when I do - it seems to be a chance to go deeper into what I'm attempting to describe and to play about with things more. Quite a challenge really.
Here's this morning's meditation poem:
Meditation 35
The desert sends dryness
on your tongue,
all the bitter aching sun of it.
You can never go home,
sure in the knowledge
that too much gift
is worse than no gift.
You search and search.
Find only
rock and sand
and loneliness.
This afternoon, I've bravely tackled the arid plains of Waitrose in an attempt to stock up for New Year. Not that we need to stock up much as there are only two of us and we don't go out and party, but we'd run out of fruit, and no-one can live on mince pies alone. Not even Lord H. So I feel fulfilled in a housewifely way in that we are at least likely to survive the next week or so. Even if we have to live purely on bananas.
I've just finished Reginald Hill's latest Dalziel and Pascoe novel, A Cure for All Diseases. Oh dear, oh dear. Here's my review which also appears on Amazon:
"I'm usually a great fan of the Dalziel and Pascoe novels, but this is one of the poorer ones. Frankly the first 200 or so pages are not worth reading and are very dull. It's only on Page 205 (in my paperback edition) when the murder finally happens that the novel actually commences. If I were you, I'd start there and you've lost nothing. I can also recommend skipping entirely any of Charley's boring and long-winded emails - they're not worth the read either. Other than that, the rest of it is fine. Though there are far, far too many exclamation marks scattered throughout the book, which gives an unfortunately amateur feel. The one really good thing is at least we do get a lot of the marvellous Franny Root - he's fabulous and holds the book together. More power to his elbow, as that's a hard task indeed. One for the committed fans only, and let's hope Hill is back on form with the next one."
Tonight, I shall be flicking through the Radio Times to see if there's anything on TV after the extravaganza of New Year - I need more plot inspiration and where better to get that from than the telly? So if Simon or the mind-executioner suddenly start burying someone under the patio or walk out of their own weddings in a huff, you'll know what to blame ...
Today's nice things:
1. Getting back to Hallsfoot
2. Having a haibun accepted
3. Poetry
4. The Radio Times.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - hoping for a feast of TV
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