Was quite chuffed this morning to see that Maloney's Law was Number 65 in the gay fiction Amazon UK charts (though now it's Number 92 and rising into obscurity once more). Goodness me, someone must have bought a copy - a huge and heartfelt thank you to whoever you are, and I do hope you enjoy the read. Sadly, some don't ... but hey we don't talk about those strange people, do we? There must be something wrong with them, say I ...
Today has been a day of literary struggles. I'm not sure I've got anywhere near the heart of this morning's meditation or what I really wanted to say but I got to the point where I just had to stop or explode, so here it is anyway:
Meditation 88
Skin white as snow,
like something born dead,
its flesh half-eaten
and seven days’ exile
still to face.
Odd how
when both Aaron and Miriam
dare to question,
it’s only the woman
who suffers.
I've also tugged every bloody word kicking and screaming out of my rapidly diminishing inspiration pot (is that a metaphor too far, I wonder?) for Hallsfoot's Battle, but have finally after seemingly hours of trudging got nicely into the 98,000 word mark. Ye gods, by the time I reach the magic 100,000 marker I'll be way too exhausted to appreciate it. Lordy knows what's happening to the First Elder and how he's going to warn Annyeke, but I suppose something will come up. One hopes.
Oh, and I've had a lovely chat with the neighbour's granddaughter (hello, Gisela!) over apple tea and Turkish Delight, so that was highly civilised, I must say. Give us another ten minutes and we could have solved all the troubles of the world too.
Talking of which, horrible to see there's been yet another school shooting, this time in Germany. This sort of terrible event almost seems beyond imagining. Another community destroyed, or at least achingly damaged, then. My sympathies are with the victims and their families and friends, of course, but I also feel for the perpetrator. And his family too. I can't begin to think how you move on from there. Not really.
Anyway, turning to slightly brighter things (almost), I've written a poem about ways to forecast death, but it's much quirkier than it sounds. Honest! Must be one of those kind of days, I suppose.
Tonight, the TV desert continues, so I shall probably succumb to the call of my puzzle book. I've bought a nice fresh one and it's crying out for my confused scribbles across its pristine pages. At least I think that's the sound I'm hearing. Or maybe I should go back on the pills again?...
Today's nice things:
1. Maloney's Law being (briefly) placed in the Amazon charts
2. Poetry
3. Getting to a point with Hallsfoot where I'm able to stop
4. Turkish Delight, tea and chat
5. Puzzles.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - relying on Turkish delight to get her through the day
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label puzzles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label puzzles. Show all posts
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Lent 2, Anne 1
Welcome to the second Sunday in Lent. I trust your times of fasting and prayer are progressing adequately well at this stage in the game, ho ho ... Ah well. Hmm. No, me neither really. I'm a tad behind on my planned Lenten reading (hold on, Archbish, I'm getting there - the spirit is willing, etc etc ...) and really must finish the second half of my current chapter today before I need to start the first half of the next. Otherwise I will meet myself coming back and be in imminent danger of disappearing up my own behind. Scary thought.
Before that happens, here's this morning's poem:
Meditation 84
The light shines forward,
patterning the hammered gold
with the sevenfold shapes
of bulls, flour, oil.
The light is not
like the darkness
that grows ever deeper
the more you turn away.
Hear its faint whisper,
speaking to you
of the silvered dreams
you left behind.
Meanwhile, back at the theology front, church today was quite good, all in all. The rector has decided that during Lent (apart from Mothering Sunday of course), he's going to give the sermon, then walk up and down amongst the pews asking questions and talking about it. Just my kind of event really - I'm all for interactive religion. As long as everyone realises I'm right, of course ... Anyway, today's theme was the lurking danger of possessions and whether they hold us back from really knowing ourselves. My personal take on it (for what it's worth) is they do, as it's easier to think about things than the inner meanderings of one's own heart, but on the other hand that may not be all bad. After all, a little self-knowledge can be a dangerous thing in itself, even (in my case) terrifying in the extreme - and surely God wouldn't want us to get too depressed by how terrible we might be, at least without the overarching potential of grace. Lordy, am I disappearing up my own arse already?? It may be so - someone switch a light on and I'll try to work my way out. Anyway, what I mean is that if possessions stop us flaying ourselves with whips and wearing hair shirts (something I've always rather fancied, myself, hey ho), then that can only be a Good Thing, and something surely God wouldn't begrudge. In moderation.
And so, while the vicar was circumnavigating the pews, we were asked to think about which three possessions we would save out of a house fire. Instantly, BigMouth here piped up with (a) my wedding photos; (b) my wedding dress; (c) my memory stick. Yes, as you can tell, it is something I've considered quite fully in the past ... Easy-peasy then. However, as my fellow pew-sitters opted for (a) nothing as long as their loved ones were okay, (b) their dog; (c) their spouse, it is evident that I am now viewed as the possession-obsessed sinner of this parish. Ah well, same old, same old, I fear ... I was only partially mollified when whilst driving back home Lord H added that, in the event of fire, and once I'd grabbed hold of my three items, he'd probably opt for his wallet and my handbag, and then we'd be fine. Hmm, he may well be right.
Other religious news is that the vicar is holding a weekly Lenten bible study group on Wednesday early evenings and I quite fancy going, as it's much easier to talk to people when you have another focus than it is when your mind goes blank over the ritualistic hell of post-service coffee. Small talk tends to set my teeth on edge, a phenomenon which appears to have worsened with age. I feel I was much more reasonable and pleasant at a surface level in my twenties - ah you should have known me when I was young. Bad luck, eh. I'm also delighted to find that there is a parish envelope stuffing event on Wednesday week when I'm actually on a holiday day - so I have signed up, as I can never resist group envelope stuffing. It's so meditative and yet cheery. One of my favourite tasks indeed. Apart from the nightmare of Christmas cards, that is ...
For the rest of today, I've been fiddling away with Hallsfoot's Battle and am now at over 97,000 words. With an inkling of what the next few paragraphs might be, thank the Lord. There's a novelty for sure. Later, I think I might turn my hand to a few puzzles, with maybe a sudoku or two. And then it's the joys of Lark Rise to Candleford, and The Victorians. Talking of TV, I'm delighted to say that the adorable Lewis is apparently coming back imminently, and it's not a moment too soon in my opinion. I can't wait.
This week's haikus (two for the price of one, though they're unrelated):
Istanbul:
Night waits expectant
in a city of sparrows
for the call to prayer.
On the cool river
a giant puff-ball of swan
sails through blue sunlight.
Today's nice things:
1. Poetry
2. Church
3. Hallsfoot
4. Puzzles
5. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - puzzling her way through Lent
Before that happens, here's this morning's poem:
Meditation 84
The light shines forward,
patterning the hammered gold
with the sevenfold shapes
of bulls, flour, oil.
The light is not
like the darkness
that grows ever deeper
the more you turn away.
Hear its faint whisper,
speaking to you
of the silvered dreams
you left behind.
Meanwhile, back at the theology front, church today was quite good, all in all. The rector has decided that during Lent (apart from Mothering Sunday of course), he's going to give the sermon, then walk up and down amongst the pews asking questions and talking about it. Just my kind of event really - I'm all for interactive religion. As long as everyone realises I'm right, of course ... Anyway, today's theme was the lurking danger of possessions and whether they hold us back from really knowing ourselves. My personal take on it (for what it's worth) is they do, as it's easier to think about things than the inner meanderings of one's own heart, but on the other hand that may not be all bad. After all, a little self-knowledge can be a dangerous thing in itself, even (in my case) terrifying in the extreme - and surely God wouldn't want us to get too depressed by how terrible we might be, at least without the overarching potential of grace. Lordy, am I disappearing up my own arse already?? It may be so - someone switch a light on and I'll try to work my way out. Anyway, what I mean is that if possessions stop us flaying ourselves with whips and wearing hair shirts (something I've always rather fancied, myself, hey ho), then that can only be a Good Thing, and something surely God wouldn't begrudge. In moderation.
And so, while the vicar was circumnavigating the pews, we were asked to think about which three possessions we would save out of a house fire. Instantly, BigMouth here piped up with (a) my wedding photos; (b) my wedding dress; (c) my memory stick. Yes, as you can tell, it is something I've considered quite fully in the past ... Easy-peasy then. However, as my fellow pew-sitters opted for (a) nothing as long as their loved ones were okay, (b) their dog; (c) their spouse, it is evident that I am now viewed as the possession-obsessed sinner of this parish. Ah well, same old, same old, I fear ... I was only partially mollified when whilst driving back home Lord H added that, in the event of fire, and once I'd grabbed hold of my three items, he'd probably opt for his wallet and my handbag, and then we'd be fine. Hmm, he may well be right.
Other religious news is that the vicar is holding a weekly Lenten bible study group on Wednesday early evenings and I quite fancy going, as it's much easier to talk to people when you have another focus than it is when your mind goes blank over the ritualistic hell of post-service coffee. Small talk tends to set my teeth on edge, a phenomenon which appears to have worsened with age. I feel I was much more reasonable and pleasant at a surface level in my twenties - ah you should have known me when I was young. Bad luck, eh. I'm also delighted to find that there is a parish envelope stuffing event on Wednesday week when I'm actually on a holiday day - so I have signed up, as I can never resist group envelope stuffing. It's so meditative and yet cheery. One of my favourite tasks indeed. Apart from the nightmare of Christmas cards, that is ...
For the rest of today, I've been fiddling away with Hallsfoot's Battle and am now at over 97,000 words. With an inkling of what the next few paragraphs might be, thank the Lord. There's a novelty for sure. Later, I think I might turn my hand to a few puzzles, with maybe a sudoku or two. And then it's the joys of Lark Rise to Candleford, and The Victorians. Talking of TV, I'm delighted to say that the adorable Lewis is apparently coming back imminently, and it's not a moment too soon in my opinion. I can't wait.
This week's haikus (two for the price of one, though they're unrelated):
Istanbul:
Night waits expectant
in a city of sparrows
for the call to prayer.
On the cool river
a giant puff-ball of swan
sails through blue sunlight.
Today's nice things:
1. Poetry
2. Church
3. Hallsfoot
4. Puzzles
5. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - puzzling her way through Lent
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Hallsfoot, puzzles and story thoughts
Have most of the day working away on Hallsfoot's Battle - the writing seems slightly easier when I'm with Ralph. Possibly because he has more exciting action-hero type stuff to do, rather than the Gathandrians, who have to puzzle over their battle plans and worry about the mind-executioner's next move. As well as wondering where the hell Simon is. Then again, Ralph is first and foremost a soldier, so he's used to a bit of derring-do. He's best when he doesn't have to think, you know ... So, I'm now at over 84,000 words and I have plans for the Lammas Lord (AKA Ralph, for those of you not quite keeping up at the back - which probably includes me these days too ...), so there'll be something to write about tomorrow when I come to it again. I hope.
And this morning's meditation poem is:
Meditation 60
I’m pleased that camel,
rock-badger and rabbit
escape the call
of the cooking pot,
but I’m not too worried
about moles, rats
or mice.
Hurry through the dark streets,
usher the poor, the blind
and the lame
to a feast
they have not looked for.
I've also managed to pick up a copy of next week's Radio Times today. This time, all the good TV (or most of it anyway) appears to be on Monday. In fact there are four programmes I want to watch then, all on at the same time, deep sigh ... How I long for a more sensible viewing policy so more than one day a week gets the chance of some good stuff. Hmm, I won't hold my breath then. However the joyful, utterly amazing thing is that I solved the Radio Times anagram puzzle in only one second!!! Double hurrahs and crack open the champers indeed. The word simply leapt out at me, my dears, and I was so excited that I jumped up and down in the flat yelling and congratulating myself. Good job no-one was here then - I trust that my impending lunacy is a secret you will not divulge ... Maybe I need to get out more? Or possibly less. Anyway, that effort must surely beat Lord H this week, as to my shame he usually gets the word first. He comes from a long line of expert, highly trained anagram-solvers, so it's in the genes, you know.
There's also a plot and a character for a short story chasing themselves around my mind at the moment, courtesy of something Lord H said yesterday. They are even now pecking at the inside of my head and I will have to let them out at some stage before they become too irritating. But I don't want to get too carried away and do too much so I end up in a sobbing heap. Patience is all - so they say.
And talking of short stories, I've just finished the I Do Anthology - in support of gay marriage equality in eBook version. A nice mix of stories, some erotic and some not, though I do think that the first one in the collection, The Lindorm's Twin, is rather weak and shouldn't have been included at all, let alone be in pride of place. It rather put me off and I was desperately skipping it. However, that said, the collection picks up again once you get to the second story and from there on it's fine. Particular favourites include Outed by Clare London (a witty tale of an unexpected coming out moment which includes a brother/sister conversation that made me laugh out loud. It's my joint favourite and a classy read), Lust in Translation by Storm Grant (where a hooker isn't entirely what he seems and a cop gets rather more than he bargained for), Making Memory by Lisabet Sarai (a moving encounter between two very different women) and Code of Honour by Marquesate (my other joint favourite in the collection - a short story with considerable depth set in the Foreign Legion with two very strong leads. I couldn't put it down, in a virtual sense). And special mention has to go to gay fiction stalwarts, Alex Beecroft, Sharon Maria Bidwell, Fiona Glass and Erastes (whose story of grief relived actually had me crying at the start), all of whom can always be relied on to produce a good solid tale well told. Worth a read for sure and of course it's a very good cause.
Today's nice things:
1. Getting on, slowly, with Hallsfoot
2. Poetry
3. Being a brilliant solver of anagrams - at last!
4. Short story ponderings
5. The anthology.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - not averse to a spot of derring-do herself
And this morning's meditation poem is:
Meditation 60
I’m pleased that camel,
rock-badger and rabbit
escape the call
of the cooking pot,
but I’m not too worried
about moles, rats
or mice.
Hurry through the dark streets,
usher the poor, the blind
and the lame
to a feast
they have not looked for.
I've also managed to pick up a copy of next week's Radio Times today. This time, all the good TV (or most of it anyway) appears to be on Monday. In fact there are four programmes I want to watch then, all on at the same time, deep sigh ... How I long for a more sensible viewing policy so more than one day a week gets the chance of some good stuff. Hmm, I won't hold my breath then. However the joyful, utterly amazing thing is that I solved the Radio Times anagram puzzle in only one second!!! Double hurrahs and crack open the champers indeed. The word simply leapt out at me, my dears, and I was so excited that I jumped up and down in the flat yelling and congratulating myself. Good job no-one was here then - I trust that my impending lunacy is a secret you will not divulge ... Maybe I need to get out more? Or possibly less. Anyway, that effort must surely beat Lord H this week, as to my shame he usually gets the word first. He comes from a long line of expert, highly trained anagram-solvers, so it's in the genes, you know.
There's also a plot and a character for a short story chasing themselves around my mind at the moment, courtesy of something Lord H said yesterday. They are even now pecking at the inside of my head and I will have to let them out at some stage before they become too irritating. But I don't want to get too carried away and do too much so I end up in a sobbing heap. Patience is all - so they say.
And talking of short stories, I've just finished the I Do Anthology - in support of gay marriage equality in eBook version. A nice mix of stories, some erotic and some not, though I do think that the first one in the collection, The Lindorm's Twin, is rather weak and shouldn't have been included at all, let alone be in pride of place. It rather put me off and I was desperately skipping it. However, that said, the collection picks up again once you get to the second story and from there on it's fine. Particular favourites include Outed by Clare London (a witty tale of an unexpected coming out moment which includes a brother/sister conversation that made me laugh out loud. It's my joint favourite and a classy read), Lust in Translation by Storm Grant (where a hooker isn't entirely what he seems and a cop gets rather more than he bargained for), Making Memory by Lisabet Sarai (a moving encounter between two very different women) and Code of Honour by Marquesate (my other joint favourite in the collection - a short story with considerable depth set in the Foreign Legion with two very strong leads. I couldn't put it down, in a virtual sense). And special mention has to go to gay fiction stalwarts, Alex Beecroft, Sharon Maria Bidwell, Fiona Glass and Erastes (whose story of grief relived actually had me crying at the start), all of whom can always be relied on to produce a good solid tale well told. Worth a read for sure and of course it's a very good cause.
Today's nice things:
1. Getting on, slowly, with Hallsfoot
2. Poetry
3. Being a brilliant solver of anagrams - at last!
4. Short story ponderings
5. The anthology.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - not averse to a spot of derring-do herself
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Feeling fuzzy
Today's main feeling is definitely one of fuzziness. I'm not feeling particularly well and I'm not feeling particularly ill either. Weird really. It's as if I'm on the cusp of feeling ill but not quite there. Much like treading water would be, I suppose, if I could even swim. The cold is a little better though and I'm rather less husky than I was yesterday. Though when I attempted to go for a lie-down this afternoon, I didn't get very far due to Snorty-Nose Syndrome. Ah well. I can only hope I'm better at breathing tonight when I try for the sleep option. Perhaps a quick Lemsip is called for ...
I've done a hell of a lot of puzzles from both my puzzle books though, so that's been fun. And the first of my three remaining plasters has come off - the one on the back of the hand, which is apparently part of the anaesthetic process, but Lordy knows how exactly - and it appears to be all healed up, hurrah. So I haven't replaced that. This leaves me with two plasters and one dressing, both in the stomach area. My goodness, what a lot of holes the poor dears had to make indeed. The mind definitely does the proverbial. I think I shall leave tackling those till later in the week when I may be feeling stronger. I do have replacements if need be. But for now they seem fine. Strangely the left shoulder is still rather numb, but causing me less angst than yesterday, I must admit. I was prepared for shoulder pain - which they'd warned me about - but not the loss of sensation. At least the pins and needles thing has gone. My, what fun recuperation is, my dears!
I've also - shock! horror! probe! - actually done some writing to Hallsfoot's Battle. Another thousand words indeed, which came far more smoothly than anticipated, so I'm now at 44,005 words. Or thereabouts. I'm dealing with the difficult relationship between Annyeke and her grandmother now - funny how much I'm taking from my relationship with my own grandmother, ho ho. The old biddy would not, I suspect, be overly-pleased. But if being an author doesn't give me the power to take a kind of literary revenge, then what the hell use is it, tee hee. Besides Annyeke does grow to respect her, even if things weren't too good in childhood between them - and, much like myself, is probably well on the way to even becoming that same old biddy. Goddammit. Grandmothers always have the last laugh after all ...
And I must say how absolutely horrible all the judges were - even Uncle Len! - on last night's Strictly Come Dancing. I found them hugely upsetting. Why do they have to make people cry? It's unnecessary. Mind you, that said, Cherie and James' rhumba was the best dance I've seen in a long, long time - incredibly beautiful and strong. It certainly deserved all those 9s and to my mind should have had a 10 in there as well. Maybe two 10s. Shame on the judges that they didn't take that step. I'm definitely voting for Cherie - Austin had better watch out!
Tonight, there's the start of a new series - the last one ever, apparently, groan ... - of Frost, so I'll be glued to that. But I'll also be videoing the programme about Alastair Campbell's breakdown. From 20 years ago, I know what it's like to have a meltdown experience, so I'm all for programmes that bring mental health out into the open. Good for them. It should definitely be more talked about - and well done, Mr C, for allowing the programme to be made.
This week's haiku:
Beyond my window,
small birds weave bright medicine.
I wait for a cure.
Today's nice things:
1. Getting rid of one plaster
2. Puzzles
3. Writing more of Hallsfoot
4. TV
5. Haikus.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
I've done a hell of a lot of puzzles from both my puzzle books though, so that's been fun. And the first of my three remaining plasters has come off - the one on the back of the hand, which is apparently part of the anaesthetic process, but Lordy knows how exactly - and it appears to be all healed up, hurrah. So I haven't replaced that. This leaves me with two plasters and one dressing, both in the stomach area. My goodness, what a lot of holes the poor dears had to make indeed. The mind definitely does the proverbial. I think I shall leave tackling those till later in the week when I may be feeling stronger. I do have replacements if need be. But for now they seem fine. Strangely the left shoulder is still rather numb, but causing me less angst than yesterday, I must admit. I was prepared for shoulder pain - which they'd warned me about - but not the loss of sensation. At least the pins and needles thing has gone. My, what fun recuperation is, my dears!
I've also - shock! horror! probe! - actually done some writing to Hallsfoot's Battle. Another thousand words indeed, which came far more smoothly than anticipated, so I'm now at 44,005 words. Or thereabouts. I'm dealing with the difficult relationship between Annyeke and her grandmother now - funny how much I'm taking from my relationship with my own grandmother, ho ho. The old biddy would not, I suspect, be overly-pleased. But if being an author doesn't give me the power to take a kind of literary revenge, then what the hell use is it, tee hee. Besides Annyeke does grow to respect her, even if things weren't too good in childhood between them - and, much like myself, is probably well on the way to even becoming that same old biddy. Goddammit. Grandmothers always have the last laugh after all ...
And I must say how absolutely horrible all the judges were - even Uncle Len! - on last night's Strictly Come Dancing. I found them hugely upsetting. Why do they have to make people cry? It's unnecessary. Mind you, that said, Cherie and James' rhumba was the best dance I've seen in a long, long time - incredibly beautiful and strong. It certainly deserved all those 9s and to my mind should have had a 10 in there as well. Maybe two 10s. Shame on the judges that they didn't take that step. I'm definitely voting for Cherie - Austin had better watch out!
Tonight, there's the start of a new series - the last one ever, apparently, groan ... - of Frost, so I'll be glued to that. But I'll also be videoing the programme about Alastair Campbell's breakdown. From 20 years ago, I know what it's like to have a meltdown experience, so I'm all for programmes that bring mental health out into the open. Good for them. It should definitely be more talked about - and well done, Mr C, for allowing the programme to be made.
This week's haiku:
Beyond my window,
small birds weave bright medicine.
I wait for a cure.
Today's nice things:
1. Getting rid of one plaster
2. Puzzles
3. Writing more of Hallsfoot
4. TV
5. Haikus.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Post-hospital recuperation and nearly a Mslexia mention ...
Well, I'm out of hospital, phew - and I do have to say how absolutely lovely everyone at Mount Alvernia was, and that includes all the wonderful ward staff, the consultant and anaesthetist too, hurrah. And also a HUGE thank you to everyone who sent good wishes - I really appreciated it, as I was pretty scared. In case you hadn't realised ... Thank you. Mind you, I really do love having a bed where I can move the pillow end up and down electronically to the height desired, plus a little orange button that brings a nurse immediately to sort me out - ah bliss ... And the TV and ensuite bathroom were lovely too. I'm wondering about installing a little orange button that brings Lord H instantly to my side, but I suspect he will not be too keen ...
Anyway, In the end the actual op was rather more complex than the consultant anticipated, I think, and I was in the operating theatre for rather longer than expected. POSSIBLE SQUEAMISH ALERT!! - The good news is they don't reckon it's cancer, though they have removed the cyst and sent it for testing just in case. The surprise as far as everyone was concerned is that it's apparently obvious that I've had galloping endometriosis ("all over the place, my dear" - end of consultant quote!) for years, but it hasn't been diagnosed. (I was tested for it 20 years ago, but the testing equipment then - being not as good as now - never picked it up). Anyway, the consultant ... um ... hoovered(!) appropriately, which is what took so long - though I may have to go for further treatment with an endometriosis expert. We'll have to see. However she was thrilled with the state of my liver, which she says is marvellous, double hurrah. Always good to have one bodily part you can rely on is what I say. And my liver has of course done sterling service over the years, though it's less busy now ... END OF SQUEAMISH ALERT!
It's also apparent that I don't take well to anaesthetic - say no more! - a factor I should have remembered from my childhood stay in hospital many, many years ago. Anyway, I spent most of Thursday evening and all of Friday being hugely groggy and confused (much like an Essex Girl weekend then ...), and am really pretty tired now. Also very sore. But I have dressings, plasters and at least the stitches are out, so I'm well on the road to recovery. Or at least I'm further away from the starting block. Anyway I'm eating normally, triple hurrahs, plus I've managed to wash, including my hair, so I do feel more alive and human than I did. Being clean really makes a difference, you know.
So today I've done nothing more than watch TV, sleep and do crossword puzzles and sudokus. Which has been rather enjoyable. Though it is odd that the cold I had just before I went into hospital appears to have returned, dammit, but in milder form. Curiouser and curiouser indeed ...
However, the nice news has been reading the article on Flame Books in Mslexia in which A Dangerous Man so nearly got a mention in the words: "Since their launch in 2003, Flame Books have built up a list of 13 titles that range from short story anthologies and novels of rural meltdown, to a gay crime thriller - an unusual foray into genre fiction for them." Ah, Michael, so near and so far, eh! Also lovely to see a special mention for Megan Taylor's tour-de-force of a novel, How We Were Lost and for Laura Solomon's utter marvellous short story collection, Alternative Medicine - both of which you should rush to buy and read at once. They're humdingers of books.
The other positive news is that Avari Press - the small US publisher to whom I sent the initial package of The Gifting - have emailed to say that its been through several reviews, they're still impressed and they want to evaluate it further. Well, that's nice to hear - when I saw the email come through, I was just expecting the usual "thanks, but no thanks". Now, even if they decide against it, at least I know the first few chapters do have the ability to hook someone out there. Ah, there's hope, Carruthers - it's just very very tiny, and a long way away ...
Today's nice things:
1. Being at home
2. Orange instant nurse buttons
3. Bedroom TV & ensuite bathrooms
4. The nearly mention in Mslexia
5. Avari Press being impressed with The Gifting
6. Puzzles
7. Regular naps.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Anyway, In the end the actual op was rather more complex than the consultant anticipated, I think, and I was in the operating theatre for rather longer than expected. POSSIBLE SQUEAMISH ALERT!! - The good news is they don't reckon it's cancer, though they have removed the cyst and sent it for testing just in case. The surprise as far as everyone was concerned is that it's apparently obvious that I've had galloping endometriosis ("all over the place, my dear" - end of consultant quote!) for years, but it hasn't been diagnosed. (I was tested for it 20 years ago, but the testing equipment then - being not as good as now - never picked it up). Anyway, the consultant ... um ... hoovered(!) appropriately, which is what took so long - though I may have to go for further treatment with an endometriosis expert. We'll have to see. However she was thrilled with the state of my liver, which she says is marvellous, double hurrah. Always good to have one bodily part you can rely on is what I say. And my liver has of course done sterling service over the years, though it's less busy now ... END OF SQUEAMISH ALERT!
It's also apparent that I don't take well to anaesthetic - say no more! - a factor I should have remembered from my childhood stay in hospital many, many years ago. Anyway, I spent most of Thursday evening and all of Friday being hugely groggy and confused (much like an Essex Girl weekend then ...), and am really pretty tired now. Also very sore. But I have dressings, plasters and at least the stitches are out, so I'm well on the road to recovery. Or at least I'm further away from the starting block. Anyway I'm eating normally, triple hurrahs, plus I've managed to wash, including my hair, so I do feel more alive and human than I did. Being clean really makes a difference, you know.
So today I've done nothing more than watch TV, sleep and do crossword puzzles and sudokus. Which has been rather enjoyable. Though it is odd that the cold I had just before I went into hospital appears to have returned, dammit, but in milder form. Curiouser and curiouser indeed ...
However, the nice news has been reading the article on Flame Books in Mslexia in which A Dangerous Man so nearly got a mention in the words: "Since their launch in 2003, Flame Books have built up a list of 13 titles that range from short story anthologies and novels of rural meltdown, to a gay crime thriller - an unusual foray into genre fiction for them." Ah, Michael, so near and so far, eh! Also lovely to see a special mention for Megan Taylor's tour-de-force of a novel, How We Were Lost and for Laura Solomon's utter marvellous short story collection, Alternative Medicine - both of which you should rush to buy and read at once. They're humdingers of books.
The other positive news is that Avari Press - the small US publisher to whom I sent the initial package of The Gifting - have emailed to say that its been through several reviews, they're still impressed and they want to evaluate it further. Well, that's nice to hear - when I saw the email come through, I was just expecting the usual "thanks, but no thanks". Now, even if they decide against it, at least I know the first few chapters do have the ability to hook someone out there. Ah, there's hope, Carruthers - it's just very very tiny, and a long way away ...
Today's nice things:
1. Being at home
2. Orange instant nurse buttons
3. Bedroom TV & ensuite bathrooms
4. The nearly mention in Mslexia
5. Avari Press being impressed with The Gifting
6. Puzzles
7. Regular naps.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Sick as the proverbial ...
A day off today as I've finally succumbed to the evil demands of the cold I've been developing, sigh. Having managed a grand total of 4 hours' sleep on Sunday night and a gloriously indecent one hour last night, I probably ruddy well deserve a day off. I gave up even trying to sleep at around midnight yesterday and got up and began to do a stream of endless puzzles in the living room instead. Couldn't be arsed to turn the TV on really. My one hour's sleep finally overtook me on the sofa at around 5am. Frankly it was delicious.
So today, I called in sick and have been dousing myself with the usual Lemsip, Lucozade and Echinaforce combo. Oh, plus honey and a Vick's vapour rub steam bath. And yet more puzzles. Might try another steam bath later - Lordy but it's good to be able to breathe, you know. I've also watched my video of the totally wonderful Galaxy Quest, which is just such a great film and never fails to cheer me up, and I've had a nap, hurrah. Don't want to overdo it though - I'm hoping for sleep tonight after all ...
All in all therefore, I'd make an excellent Lydia Languish - I haven't even had the energy to think about Hallsfoot's Battle, let alone bring it up on screen at all. Simon, Annyeke and the rest of the merry gang will have to hold their own by themselves for a while, I think. I'm good for nothing more tonight than TV, whimpering and wondering if I ought to get round to eating anything at all. Because, my dears, my appetite has packed up and headed south for the winter. If you see it wandering around looking lost, please point it in the right direction and send it back. I imagine I'll need it someday.
Most of all, I'm bloody determined to get better before bloody Thursday!!
Today's nice things:
1. Puzzles
2. That hour of longed-for sleep
3. Napping.
4. Galaxy Quest
5. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
So today, I called in sick and have been dousing myself with the usual Lemsip, Lucozade and Echinaforce combo. Oh, plus honey and a Vick's vapour rub steam bath. And yet more puzzles. Might try another steam bath later - Lordy but it's good to be able to breathe, you know. I've also watched my video of the totally wonderful Galaxy Quest, which is just such a great film and never fails to cheer me up, and I've had a nap, hurrah. Don't want to overdo it though - I'm hoping for sleep tonight after all ...
All in all therefore, I'd make an excellent Lydia Languish - I haven't even had the energy to think about Hallsfoot's Battle, let alone bring it up on screen at all. Simon, Annyeke and the rest of the merry gang will have to hold their own by themselves for a while, I think. I'm good for nothing more tonight than TV, whimpering and wondering if I ought to get round to eating anything at all. Because, my dears, my appetite has packed up and headed south for the winter. If you see it wandering around looking lost, please point it in the right direction and send it back. I imagine I'll need it someday.
Most of all, I'm bloody determined to get better before bloody Thursday!!
Today's nice things:
1. Puzzles
2. That hour of longed-for sleep
3. Napping.
4. Galaxy Quest
5. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Monday, August 25, 2008
Taking it easy
I must first of all say I ended up watching the Spielberg film, Artificial Intelligence, last night. What a load of drivel! Though the zappier parts with Jude Law in it in the middle were quite fun. On the whole, it was a rather typical Spielberg overschmalz and it would have been much better if the wretched little boy and his irritating super-teddy could have been killed at the beginning. Now that would have been interesting for sure, but in the meantime somebody pass me the vomit bucket, groan ...
Anyway, today, I am laid low by female problems (double groan ...) so have spent most of the day drooping around in a Lydia Languish manner but with a hot-water bottle and a long line of suitable painkillers. Which I'm sure Ms Languish never had. However, I was much cheered by a delicious double helping of Friends on TV at 9am, which was the usual classy bliss. How I do love Chandler and Monica - which is in truth the best and most realistic portrait of marriage on the box thus far!
I've also managed to do another 1000 words to Hallsfoot's Battle and am now about halfway through the Ancient Gathandrian Legend of Lust and Fortitude. No, I don't really have much idea what the second half of said legend is either - though it will probably be about fortitude as I've done the lust section! - but I'm hoping something will turn up in the head at some point ... Or I'll just keep on typing until it does, I suppose. As ever.
In the meantime, Lord H has hunted the buffalo in Mr Waitrose (is it me or does that seem rather rude? Oh well ...) and come back with lunch and some provisions for the week. I just about managed to get lunch down me before retiring for a two-hour nap in the bedroom, still clutching my hot-water bottle. Ah, it's so comforting in these difficult times, you know. And I really don't want to over-exert myself.
Tonight, I'm planning another slump in front of the TV but am hoping for better fayre than yesterday, please God. At least "New Tricks" is on later, so it can't be too bad. And I've got The Puzzler magazine to continue to tackle, which is quite obsessive fun. Hell, who am I kidding? Any fun I have is always obsessive ...
Today's nice things:
1. Friends on TV
2. Writing more of Hallsfoot
3. Puzzles
4. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Anyway, today, I am laid low by female problems (double groan ...) so have spent most of the day drooping around in a Lydia Languish manner but with a hot-water bottle and a long line of suitable painkillers. Which I'm sure Ms Languish never had. However, I was much cheered by a delicious double helping of Friends on TV at 9am, which was the usual classy bliss. How I do love Chandler and Monica - which is in truth the best and most realistic portrait of marriage on the box thus far!
I've also managed to do another 1000 words to Hallsfoot's Battle and am now about halfway through the Ancient Gathandrian Legend of Lust and Fortitude. No, I don't really have much idea what the second half of said legend is either - though it will probably be about fortitude as I've done the lust section! - but I'm hoping something will turn up in the head at some point ... Or I'll just keep on typing until it does, I suppose. As ever.
In the meantime, Lord H has hunted the buffalo in Mr Waitrose (is it me or does that seem rather rude? Oh well ...) and come back with lunch and some provisions for the week. I just about managed to get lunch down me before retiring for a two-hour nap in the bedroom, still clutching my hot-water bottle. Ah, it's so comforting in these difficult times, you know. And I really don't want to over-exert myself.
Tonight, I'm planning another slump in front of the TV but am hoping for better fayre than yesterday, please God. At least "New Tricks" is on later, so it can't be too bad. And I've got The Puzzler magazine to continue to tackle, which is quite obsessive fun. Hell, who am I kidding? Any fun I have is always obsessive ...
Today's nice things:
1. Friends on TV
2. Writing more of Hallsfoot
3. Puzzles
4. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Hallsfoot, puzzles and post
Not much has happened today really. I have stepped neatly off the world for a day and spoken to no-one and not gone out of the flat at all. Bliss. Except I did nip quietly down to the shared hallway to pick up the post. It's all finances - groan. Honestly, I think the postman has seriously gone off us now and is obviously taking our exciting post to more deserving customers. Even the magazine was Accountancy Monthly - Lord H's, I hasten to add.
Apart from that, I have done another 1000 words to Hallsfoot's Battle, thus bringing me up to 18,000 of the little beggars. 2000 to go before my self-imposed holiday deadline then! But really, do I need a deadline? Or is it just something I take on in order to give me an imagined sense of control in a totally uncontrollable world? Hell, no, don't answer that ... As my Anglo-Saxon tutor once told me a long time ago: Anne, you are your own worst enemy, you know. Ye gods, but the old bugger might have been right.
I have also - much to my surprise as it so rarely happens - looked at my Hallsfoot theme/plot outline again, and even added in a few more chapter titles and writing notes into the text for when I go back to it. Lordy, but I might even have a plan, of sorts. So not me, dahlings - have I been switched with some kind of alien lifeform? Hmm, it's a puzzle, and probably quite likely ... Hell, somebody pass me the snuff box - I obviously need the drugs.
Talking of puzzles, I have been totally and utterly thrilled this morning by the fact that I completed the Radio Times Word Enigma Puzzle in record time and (shock!) without cheating. They said I should be able to do it in 26 minutes but (pause for smug smile and gloating) I did it in 10. Hurrah! I was helped hugely by the fact that (a) I instantly saw where the word "oxymoron" was, and (b) I recognised "alpaca", purely due to the alpaca stud farm next door to Glyndebourne. Ha! Which just goes to show how truly useful the opera can be in the modern age.
In the middle of all this excitement, I managed to fit in an hour's lunchtime nap and some existential weeping. As you do - really, m'dears, no day is complete without it. I am nothing if not overly dramatic and droopy when faced with potential diseases. Believe me, courage is so not my middle name. Mind you, even I realised I might have gone too far when I found myself wondering which priest might be persuaded to say a few words at my funeral (which will be stylish, elegant and small, if you're asking). At that point, I got up and had some lunch - much the best thing to do - and besides I could almost hear Lord H's tutting and that's never a pretty sight. Anyway, I'd already decided I didn't much like any of the priests I knew at all, so I may as well keep living. Which, bloody hell, is as good a reason as any not to panic!
Tonight, I might do a tad more scribbling, if I feel in the mood. Or possibly another sudoku or two, which are much like haikus but with numbers. Strangely Lord H has taken to demonstrating his undoubted genius by filling in the difficult sudokus in my book - but leaving gaps in different patterns or shapes of letters and then putting the book on my side of the sofa so I can come along and complete them later. God, but he's good. Or perhaps he's trying to communicate with me? Who can tell? I shall have to mark down the patterns and letters he leaves and see if I can crack the code. Ah, indeed marriage is the last great puzzle. Ye gods, but truly I feel a Bonekickers moment coming on. Where's that mystery sword when I need it?
Today's nice things:
1. Writing Hallsfoot
2. Puzzles
3. Marital communication.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Apart from that, I have done another 1000 words to Hallsfoot's Battle, thus bringing me up to 18,000 of the little beggars. 2000 to go before my self-imposed holiday deadline then! But really, do I need a deadline? Or is it just something I take on in order to give me an imagined sense of control in a totally uncontrollable world? Hell, no, don't answer that ... As my Anglo-Saxon tutor once told me a long time ago: Anne, you are your own worst enemy, you know. Ye gods, but the old bugger might have been right.
I have also - much to my surprise as it so rarely happens - looked at my Hallsfoot theme/plot outline again, and even added in a few more chapter titles and writing notes into the text for when I go back to it. Lordy, but I might even have a plan, of sorts. So not me, dahlings - have I been switched with some kind of alien lifeform? Hmm, it's a puzzle, and probably quite likely ... Hell, somebody pass me the snuff box - I obviously need the drugs.
Talking of puzzles, I have been totally and utterly thrilled this morning by the fact that I completed the Radio Times Word Enigma Puzzle in record time and (shock!) without cheating. They said I should be able to do it in 26 minutes but (pause for smug smile and gloating) I did it in 10. Hurrah! I was helped hugely by the fact that (a) I instantly saw where the word "oxymoron" was, and (b) I recognised "alpaca", purely due to the alpaca stud farm next door to Glyndebourne. Ha! Which just goes to show how truly useful the opera can be in the modern age.
In the middle of all this excitement, I managed to fit in an hour's lunchtime nap and some existential weeping. As you do - really, m'dears, no day is complete without it. I am nothing if not overly dramatic and droopy when faced with potential diseases. Believe me, courage is so not my middle name. Mind you, even I realised I might have gone too far when I found myself wondering which priest might be persuaded to say a few words at my funeral (which will be stylish, elegant and small, if you're asking). At that point, I got up and had some lunch - much the best thing to do - and besides I could almost hear Lord H's tutting and that's never a pretty sight. Anyway, I'd already decided I didn't much like any of the priests I knew at all, so I may as well keep living. Which, bloody hell, is as good a reason as any not to panic!
Tonight, I might do a tad more scribbling, if I feel in the mood. Or possibly another sudoku or two, which are much like haikus but with numbers. Strangely Lord H has taken to demonstrating his undoubted genius by filling in the difficult sudokus in my book - but leaving gaps in different patterns or shapes of letters and then putting the book on my side of the sofa so I can come along and complete them later. God, but he's good. Or perhaps he's trying to communicate with me? Who can tell? I shall have to mark down the patterns and letters he leaves and see if I can crack the code. Ah, indeed marriage is the last great puzzle. Ye gods, but truly I feel a Bonekickers moment coming on. Where's that mystery sword when I need it?
Today's nice things:
1. Writing Hallsfoot
2. Puzzles
3. Marital communication.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
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