Goodness, what a literary day today. The boss is back too, so we have to look super-professional and cutting-edge. Not that we don’t always look like that, of course – it’s just that we have to expunge that tell-tale trace of panic from our eyes …
Anyway, did a fair amount of website stuff, which I always enjoy, mainly on the Mentoring site, and we have plans for the Health Centre site too. Hurrah. About time it got updated. I’m sure we still have stuff about the Bubonic plague up there somewhere, if I looked closely enough. Groan.
And what fun I’ve had with the University rejiggling of the bank holidays. A concept which is seriously pissing me off, if only for the complexity of the new regime we have to do – but frankly I can’t be arsed to make a fuss. For once. Anyway, the powers that be have decided that bank holidays and University closure days are not fair for part-timers, as those part-timers (such as myself) who work the beginning of a week get to take and enjoy more bank holidays than those who work the end of a week. A concept, I admit, that even I can understand. However, instead of doing the sensible thing and just chucking in a few more holiday days for those people who work the end of the week – as I would have done – they’ve decided to subject the bank holidays of all part-time people to a series of mathematical formulae designed to work out an even balance. Allegedly. So, David and I have pored over this, sighed a lot and finally worked out that I am (possibly) allowed to have 9 bank holiday/University closure days in one academic year. However, as there are actually 13 in total, this means I owe the University four days up to and including March 2008. As a result, I have to either work an extra day in a bank holiday week, or take it as part of my leave, or as unpaid leave up to the value of four. Ye gods, no wonder Higher Education is struggling. So now I have a natty little spreadsheet designed to work it all out as I go along, which I have designed myself, and a pretty nifty headache.
To cap it all, my case is easy, as at least I work full days when I am here. Those people, such as Andrea in the Dean of Students’ Office, who only work partial days have to work it all out in hours. It’s astonishing we have time for anything else at all, really.
Had a UniSWriters meeting at lunchtime, which was thin on the ground as some people were sick (we missed you, Julia! – hope you’re better soon) or on training days, but we had some very good discussions about the manuscripts and about the publishing business. They were also very helpful about cuts and changes I needed to make to the poem I took along too, so that was great. Oh, and Jenny at the Library is going to come to next week’s Book Circle discussion of A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and has even read it in preparation (thanks, Jenny!), so at least there might be more than a couple of people there. Which will be nice. I’ve decided now that if there’s only a few of us and we run out of things to say, then we can always sneak off early to the pub. Heck, I’m sure Michael would approve.
Oh, and Angela who used to come to UniSWriters but left the University last year rang up for some emergency publishing information. I don’t see myself as the font of all knowledge, in any area, but it was lovely to talk to her again. My advice was, as always: send stuff out to agents/publishers before trying the self-publishing route. After all, I’m very much for having both routes to markets open (as you well know). In any case, I strongly advised her against using AuthorHouse, which she was initially keen to do – their reputation isn’t good, from what I’ve heard. Thankfully, I think I convinced her.
Back with my colleagues, we’ve had an in-depth discussion about the injustices of the social/work system with regard to non-child producing people. Now, I know I’m not a great fan of the concept of The Child, but I would like to say that I entirely agree with the provisions of maternity/paternity leave and think it’s a Good Thing. However, at the same time, I’ve always felt it discriminates strongly (as society does, to my mind) against those people who choose not to have children. I mean: hey, where’s my nice lot of leave when I produce something valuable or simply want to take a long tranche of paid/partially paid time off, eh? I don’t see why people without children can’t have some similar perks also. We all work hard enough, after all. However, I feel I’m a lone voice in this – well, Ruth at work agrees too, so perhaps together we can form a small splinter group. Child-free too.
Tonight, I’m off to Guildford Writers with the start of Chapter Three of The Gifting, so hope to get helpful comments on that. I’m still worrying about my last chapter, darn it. I did scribble down a couple of paragraphs last night, but hadn’t really got to the crux of the scene. Ah well. Perhaps it’ll all be all right on the night. You never know.
And I've written a piece of flash fiction for the next Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) group challenge:
Carbon Copy
Genevieve lay back on the couch and sighed. At her feet, two scantily-clad young men massaged her lascivious toes. Bliss. They’d work their way upwards. In time. It had been a while since she’d been able to afford enough tokens for a double session and once again she thanked her long-dead grandmother for the ancient typewriter and carbon paper she’d recently discovered in the attic. It was amazing what the authorities would believe. These days.
Today’s nice things:
1. UniSWriters
2. Writing a piece of flash fiction
3. Guildford Writers
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
V-Cs, wasps and saints days
St George’s Day today – so happy St George’s Day to all. I gather that Guildford is making a big thing of this, but as I’m not able to go to town in the lunch-hour (in any sense), then I can’t confirm anything. Lord H and I were wondering if we should re-enact the traditional slaying of the dragon by the good saint himself, but were unable to agree on which of us should take which part. So this mini-drama has, I’m afraid, had to be shelved for now. However, at work I have taken out my red, white and blue fluffy pen and given her (or possibly him, but it’s hard to say) pride of place. The saint will be smiling, I’m sure.
And of course it’s Shakespeare’s birthday, so great cause for rejoicing. And … um … his death day, so something more of a bummer really. My though, what a party that must have been. (Happy birthday, Will! Hope you like the present … Oh. Obviously you didn’t. Ah well …). But it does give a nice sense of completion, I have to say.
Oh, and I was cheered yesterday by realising that A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com/) is actually on someone’s Wish List on Amazon – and can be seen at the Number Two position on “Jem’s” list here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/pdp/profile/ACEA95FQS1AVP - thanks, Jem! I’ve never been on anyone’s wish list before, and it’s a great honour. Talking of which, I find that ADM and I are not only in the University summer arts calendar today – advertising the forthcoming Book Circle discussion on 30 April – but are also on the University intranet news page - which I'm afraid you can't see, but bearing in mind the pic that may be a good thing!
This morning, I have finished off my updates to the Mentoring Handbook and have given it to Carol once more to check. We’ve decided that it will be best housed in A5 files, so we can easily update stuff on an ongoing basis – but you wouldn’t believe how few options the office supply people give on A5 paper or files. Hobson’s choice really. But it does give me a secretarial buzz to be looking at paper and wondering which I like best – almost makes me feel useful.
And I’ve decided to cancel next week’s Kinesiology (http://www.kinesiology4health.com/) appointment in Petersfield and not book any more at the moment, as I’m not sure that I’m learning anything else in my occasional visits - though Jane Phillips is a lovely woman and very good at what she does. It seemed like the right thing to do – and if I do want any further advice I can always make an appointment in Guildford, which is in any case much closer to home. So, I’ve written her a letter to thank her, as that seemed the right thing to do too.
This lunchtime, we had another talk from the Vice-Chancellor about the restructuring. Groan. Mind you, his super-fast delivery meant that I took very little in – which once again may indeed have been his purpose. We were all talked-at into submission by the time the questions slot came round. So I popped out for my lunchtime walk later than usual in order to get my brain functioning again – and saw that we have two baby coots on the lake. Or possibly moorhens, but I can’t tell. The mother had a white beak and the babies red beaks, so perhaps it’s our first cross-breeding? Who knows?
However, it’s not all good news and caviare, I’m afraid – an online friend of mine emailed me today to say she hadn’t really enjoyed poor old ADM at all, the reasons being because it just didn’t gel for her and because she thought I’d left too much of Michael’s traumas until the end. In addition she felt he had much more to say than I’d allowed, and it should have been far darker and more violent. This came as quite a punch (which probably only goes to show what a pathetically sensitive sad git I am, I’m sure …), partly because it’s my first bad review and partly because it was someone I was utterly convinced would like it. A lot. I also felt gutted at the comment that I hadn’t given Michael enough of a voice, especially when I’d felt I’d really gone to the depths with him, and back again. I know she’s being nice and is obviously perfectly entitled to a reaction, but I must admit it hurts. However, a wry smile (of sorts) was raised when I read the comment that she hoped this wouldn’t upset me. Um, I’m only human! Still one very stiff gin later and I’m slowly unfurling. A little.
Tonight, Lord H is out at theology, and I’m going to attempt to start my last scene in The Gifting, even though I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing and am scared to death by it. It really feels like I’ve bitten off far, far more than I can actually chew and, however I write the ending, it’s going to be pants. I simply don’t feel that I can end Simon’s story in the way he deserves and that any of the cats I can pull out of the bag now won’t be any bigger or any fluffier than the cats I’ve pulled out before, as the story’s gone along. Bummer. Again. In all of my other novels (well, most of them anyway …), I’ve known as I approached it what the ending would be – but I’m going to be spitting into a vacuum for this one, I fear. Boy, does this writer have cold feet about it – my toes are barely hanging on. Still, this isn’t the spirit that won (or indeed lost) the empire, so I’ll just have to grit my teeth and slog on. Grinning wildly …
And my 55 word fiction, “When the phone rang” has won the Bird and Moon (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/) Readers’ Choice award for February (hurrah!) and can be found here: http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/readerschoice.html - so that’s cheered me greatly.
Oh, and I’ve had my first real battle with a wasp. I was doing the recycling when that terrible humming began in the hallway and I realised I was trapped outside the flat with no phone and no means of alerting Lord H who was having a quick bath prior to theology. I did try the neighbours but they weren’t in, so I couldn’t ring from theirs. So I had to wait 15 minutes for Lord H to finish his bath and wonder where I was. Lucky he noticed, eh! Still, he despatched the evil striped beast with his usual finesse and I could come home again. Phew. Damn lucky it wasn’t raining either …
And thank goodness there’s “New Tricks” on TV later – just the light relief I need, I suspect.
Today’s nice things:
1. Being on an Amazon wish list
2. The double University advertising splash
3. The 55 word award.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com/
http://www.goldenford.co.uk/
And of course it’s Shakespeare’s birthday, so great cause for rejoicing. And … um … his death day, so something more of a bummer really. My though, what a party that must have been. (Happy birthday, Will! Hope you like the present … Oh. Obviously you didn’t. Ah well …). But it does give a nice sense of completion, I have to say.
Oh, and I was cheered yesterday by realising that A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com/) is actually on someone’s Wish List on Amazon – and can be seen at the Number Two position on “Jem’s” list here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/pdp/profile/ACEA95FQS1AVP - thanks, Jem! I’ve never been on anyone’s wish list before, and it’s a great honour. Talking of which, I find that ADM and I are not only in the University summer arts calendar today – advertising the forthcoming Book Circle discussion on 30 April – but are also on the University intranet news page - which I'm afraid you can't see, but bearing in mind the pic that may be a good thing!
This morning, I have finished off my updates to the Mentoring Handbook and have given it to Carol once more to check. We’ve decided that it will be best housed in A5 files, so we can easily update stuff on an ongoing basis – but you wouldn’t believe how few options the office supply people give on A5 paper or files. Hobson’s choice really. But it does give me a secretarial buzz to be looking at paper and wondering which I like best – almost makes me feel useful.
And I’ve decided to cancel next week’s Kinesiology (http://www.kinesiology4health.com/) appointment in Petersfield and not book any more at the moment, as I’m not sure that I’m learning anything else in my occasional visits - though Jane Phillips is a lovely woman and very good at what she does. It seemed like the right thing to do – and if I do want any further advice I can always make an appointment in Guildford, which is in any case much closer to home. So, I’ve written her a letter to thank her, as that seemed the right thing to do too.
This lunchtime, we had another talk from the Vice-Chancellor about the restructuring. Groan. Mind you, his super-fast delivery meant that I took very little in – which once again may indeed have been his purpose. We were all talked-at into submission by the time the questions slot came round. So I popped out for my lunchtime walk later than usual in order to get my brain functioning again – and saw that we have two baby coots on the lake. Or possibly moorhens, but I can’t tell. The mother had a white beak and the babies red beaks, so perhaps it’s our first cross-breeding? Who knows?
However, it’s not all good news and caviare, I’m afraid – an online friend of mine emailed me today to say she hadn’t really enjoyed poor old ADM at all, the reasons being because it just didn’t gel for her and because she thought I’d left too much of Michael’s traumas until the end. In addition she felt he had much more to say than I’d allowed, and it should have been far darker and more violent. This came as quite a punch (which probably only goes to show what a pathetically sensitive sad git I am, I’m sure …), partly because it’s my first bad review and partly because it was someone I was utterly convinced would like it. A lot. I also felt gutted at the comment that I hadn’t given Michael enough of a voice, especially when I’d felt I’d really gone to the depths with him, and back again. I know she’s being nice and is obviously perfectly entitled to a reaction, but I must admit it hurts. However, a wry smile (of sorts) was raised when I read the comment that she hoped this wouldn’t upset me. Um, I’m only human! Still one very stiff gin later and I’m slowly unfurling. A little.
Tonight, Lord H is out at theology, and I’m going to attempt to start my last scene in The Gifting, even though I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing and am scared to death by it. It really feels like I’ve bitten off far, far more than I can actually chew and, however I write the ending, it’s going to be pants. I simply don’t feel that I can end Simon’s story in the way he deserves and that any of the cats I can pull out of the bag now won’t be any bigger or any fluffier than the cats I’ve pulled out before, as the story’s gone along. Bummer. Again. In all of my other novels (well, most of them anyway …), I’ve known as I approached it what the ending would be – but I’m going to be spitting into a vacuum for this one, I fear. Boy, does this writer have cold feet about it – my toes are barely hanging on. Still, this isn’t the spirit that won (or indeed lost) the empire, so I’ll just have to grit my teeth and slog on. Grinning wildly …
And my 55 word fiction, “When the phone rang” has won the Bird and Moon (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/) Readers’ Choice award for February (hurrah!) and can be found here: http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/readerschoice.html - so that’s cheered me greatly.
Oh, and I’ve had my first real battle with a wasp. I was doing the recycling when that terrible humming began in the hallway and I realised I was trapped outside the flat with no phone and no means of alerting Lord H who was having a quick bath prior to theology. I did try the neighbours but they weren’t in, so I couldn’t ring from theirs. So I had to wait 15 minutes for Lord H to finish his bath and wonder where I was. Lucky he noticed, eh! Still, he despatched the evil striped beast with his usual finesse and I could come home again. Phew. Damn lucky it wasn’t raining either …
And thank goodness there’s “New Tricks” on TV later – just the light relief I need, I suspect.
Today’s nice things:
1. Being on an Amazon wish list
2. The double University advertising splash
3. The 55 word award.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com/
http://www.goldenford.co.uk/
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Neighbours, Quakers and Olympic slumping
Managed to catch up with the neighbours opposite this morning while I was sorting the cars out - they're very sweet but they're the kind who find my writing life distinctly weird (as indeed do Marian & Siegi, our golfing friends), so I've learnt - as with M. & S. - not to bring it into the conversation when asked what I've been up to. So I've caught up on holiday news (not sure when the next will be yet), the daughter's wedding (quiet but pleasant) and her ensuing pregnancy (due in June, but gender unknown). I am now the perfectly informed street resident.
I also went along to the Quaker meeting this morning - Lord H wasn't keen so I went on my own, but actually that was fine. It was a warm silence (if you know what I mean) and I enjoyed it - though I could have done with my stomach being rather less vocal. Never mind - I wasn't the only one. And the few words spoken in the last half-hour were interesting too. As was the fact that there were two or three people present near my age. I'm sure last time I went, most of the folk were 50+. Mind you, I'm not so far from that myself these days! Afterwards, I chatted with Ruth, one of the elders there, and then slipped out for a pleasant walk along the High Street to the car. Weather is glorious today. Bought a "Mail on Sunday" too, so am now up-to-date with national, as well as local gossip. Hurrah. Anyway, I think I'll go again, depending how I feel.
This afternoon, I have been laziness personified. We've watched our video of "QI" from yesterday - Stephen Fry on top form as ever, though I'm sure it was a repeat - and I've also watched "Ugly Betty". Betty on top form as ever also. This was rapidly followed by an utterly essential nap on the sofa (how I love that feeling of being all curled up and safe!). And the only thing I have to face now is my phone call to Mother. Later tonight, there's a new series starting - "Kingdom" with - once again! - Stephen Fry, so Lord H & I will be glued. Tales of peculiarity from downtown Norfolk - sounds like perfect Sunday night viewing to me. And it's only an hour, so we can be in bed for a reasonable time. Double hurrah. After all, it is a "school night". Groan ...
This week's haiku is:
On my daily walk,
cherry blossom lines the road,
scented with summer.
Today's nice things:
1. The Quaker service
2. Soaking up the newspaper gossip
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
I also went along to the Quaker meeting this morning - Lord H wasn't keen so I went on my own, but actually that was fine. It was a warm silence (if you know what I mean) and I enjoyed it - though I could have done with my stomach being rather less vocal. Never mind - I wasn't the only one. And the few words spoken in the last half-hour were interesting too. As was the fact that there were two or three people present near my age. I'm sure last time I went, most of the folk were 50+. Mind you, I'm not so far from that myself these days! Afterwards, I chatted with Ruth, one of the elders there, and then slipped out for a pleasant walk along the High Street to the car. Weather is glorious today. Bought a "Mail on Sunday" too, so am now up-to-date with national, as well as local gossip. Hurrah. Anyway, I think I'll go again, depending how I feel.
This afternoon, I have been laziness personified. We've watched our video of "QI" from yesterday - Stephen Fry on top form as ever, though I'm sure it was a repeat - and I've also watched "Ugly Betty". Betty on top form as ever also. This was rapidly followed by an utterly essential nap on the sofa (how I love that feeling of being all curled up and safe!). And the only thing I have to face now is my phone call to Mother. Later tonight, there's a new series starting - "Kingdom" with - once again! - Stephen Fry, so Lord H & I will be glued. Tales of peculiarity from downtown Norfolk - sounds like perfect Sunday night viewing to me. And it's only an hour, so we can be in bed for a reasonable time. Double hurrah. After all, it is a "school night". Groan ...
This week's haiku is:
On my daily walk,
cherry blossom lines the road,
scented with summer.
Today's nice things:
1. The Quaker service
2. Soaking up the newspaper gossip
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Frocks, friends and Philippes
We had a great time at Robin & Gavin's last night - as I thought, Liz and John were there too, and the six of us had a really good time. I think it's the best time I've had out at someone's house socially since Christmas - so thanks for making that possible, Robin! Whilst there, we were chatting about Liz's son, Rob, who's an up-and-coming actor and also very hot-looking too (down, girl, down!) - and so I've asked Sue (http://www.teafriendsandchocolate.com/sue/) to add his link to our list of Philippes on the new Pink Champagne and Apple Juice website (http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com). But you'll have to wait till the beginning of May (date tbc) to get a look at the gorgeous Rob, I'm afraid, but it will be worth it, I promise! And I must say what a marvellous job Sue and Frank are doing on the new Champers website - it looks fabulous. I'm sure you'll love it when it's here!
This morning, Lord H and I went for a stroll round Guildford, attempting to buy me a new frock. I desperately need one for Glyndebourne (http://www.glyndebourne.com) this year, as we're off to the opera four times over the summer; we go each year and over the years I've made friends with the lovely woman who looks after the ladies' loos. Well, a couple of years ago, I walked in, joined the queue, she looked up and said (one second before clapping her hand over her mouth and blushing bright pink), 'Oh hello, how lovely to see you? Isn't that last year's dress?' The two of us just started laughing, but the rest of the (rather posh) queue were not amused ... And, yes, it was last year's frock. And, um, the one from the year before that, and the previous few years also. So time for a new frock indeed. Which normally takes me months and months to discover, but today, Lord H and I walked straight into Viyella and there it was: a simple blue thing which looks fine on and is roomy enough to sit down in without fear, and not too bad a price either. Hurrah! Mission accomplished.
Oh, and we had a brief dip into our eternal quest for a pair of bedside cabinets, with inconclusive results. It strikes me that this has been our ongoing marital quest since our honeymoon, so if we do ever get any cabinets, we won't know what to do with them and, anyway, what the hell is our next quest going to be? It's a mystery, really. And I met Angela, one of my old poetry group people, in Heal's, so we had a nice, if brief, catch-up conversation. My my, I'm being so sociable this weekend - and enjoying it too - that I really can no longer recognise myself. Must be the Britebox working, not to mention the return of sunlight to our darkened and gloomy shores.
We were also attempting to look for a new watch for Lord H, as his current one is hanging by a thread and, I suspect, will not be long for this world. The trouble is, he wants one with a digital screen somewhere on it (even if it has a normal face too) which lights up so he can check the time in the middle of the night, and with an alarm also. Strangely, there doesn't seem to be any of these around, which aren't the same type as he's currently got, and he does want a change. So if anyone out there knows anything about watches and can tell us where to look, please do shout! Meanwhile, Lord H will have to start telling the time by the position of the sun. Which isn't so good for the night-times really ...
After our M&S lunch (really, I don't think there's as much filling in their wraps as there used to be, you know ... Good God, I'm turning into my Grandma - someone help me, please!), I did some more to The Gifting, and I think I'm now at the end of my penultimate chapter. Though the last one will be long. I'm wondering whether to go for a wham-bam or a subtle finish at the moment, but suspect I'll have to wait and see which way the pen turns. Ye gods, sometimes I think I have no control at all.
Tonight, Lord H is watching something on the Reformation on TV, as theology class starts on Monday and it's Church History this term. Which really has to be better and meatier than the boring old Ethics of last term. Which he didn't really enjoy, to be honest. And it's "Dr Who" also later, so that can't be bad. Not to mention our usual weekly fare of pizza, garlic bread, ice cream and wine which we've had to hold over from yesterday of course. Never say we're not creatures of routine ... Hell, we may be sad, but we're happy with it. If you see what I mean ...
Today's nice things:
1. Working out the Pink Champagne website launch date
2. Buying a frock!
3. Dr Who.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
This morning, Lord H and I went for a stroll round Guildford, attempting to buy me a new frock. I desperately need one for Glyndebourne (http://www.glyndebourne.com) this year, as we're off to the opera four times over the summer; we go each year and over the years I've made friends with the lovely woman who looks after the ladies' loos. Well, a couple of years ago, I walked in, joined the queue, she looked up and said (one second before clapping her hand over her mouth and blushing bright pink), 'Oh hello, how lovely to see you? Isn't that last year's dress?' The two of us just started laughing, but the rest of the (rather posh) queue were not amused ... And, yes, it was last year's frock. And, um, the one from the year before that, and the previous few years also. So time for a new frock indeed. Which normally takes me months and months to discover, but today, Lord H and I walked straight into Viyella and there it was: a simple blue thing which looks fine on and is roomy enough to sit down in without fear, and not too bad a price either. Hurrah! Mission accomplished.
Oh, and we had a brief dip into our eternal quest for a pair of bedside cabinets, with inconclusive results. It strikes me that this has been our ongoing marital quest since our honeymoon, so if we do ever get any cabinets, we won't know what to do with them and, anyway, what the hell is our next quest going to be? It's a mystery, really. And I met Angela, one of my old poetry group people, in Heal's, so we had a nice, if brief, catch-up conversation. My my, I'm being so sociable this weekend - and enjoying it too - that I really can no longer recognise myself. Must be the Britebox working, not to mention the return of sunlight to our darkened and gloomy shores.
We were also attempting to look for a new watch for Lord H, as his current one is hanging by a thread and, I suspect, will not be long for this world. The trouble is, he wants one with a digital screen somewhere on it (even if it has a normal face too) which lights up so he can check the time in the middle of the night, and with an alarm also. Strangely, there doesn't seem to be any of these around, which aren't the same type as he's currently got, and he does want a change. So if anyone out there knows anything about watches and can tell us where to look, please do shout! Meanwhile, Lord H will have to start telling the time by the position of the sun. Which isn't so good for the night-times really ...
After our M&S lunch (really, I don't think there's as much filling in their wraps as there used to be, you know ... Good God, I'm turning into my Grandma - someone help me, please!), I did some more to The Gifting, and I think I'm now at the end of my penultimate chapter. Though the last one will be long. I'm wondering whether to go for a wham-bam or a subtle finish at the moment, but suspect I'll have to wait and see which way the pen turns. Ye gods, sometimes I think I have no control at all.
Tonight, Lord H is watching something on the Reformation on TV, as theology class starts on Monday and it's Church History this term. Which really has to be better and meatier than the boring old Ethics of last term. Which he didn't really enjoy, to be honest. And it's "Dr Who" also later, so that can't be bad. Not to mention our usual weekly fare of pizza, garlic bread, ice cream and wine which we've had to hold over from yesterday of course. Never say we're not creatures of routine ... Hell, we may be sad, but we're happy with it. If you see what I mean ...
Today's nice things:
1. Working out the Pink Champagne website launch date
2. Buying a frock!
3. Dr Who.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Friday, April 20, 2007
Haircut, dinner and a peculiar number of words
For reasons I can't now explain, I booked a haircut today at 8.15am. Horror! Which, as Lynda is always always early (in fact she may well have been sitting outside the flat since last night ...), meant that Lord H and I had to be sure to be up, bathed and decent by 7am. Hell, we managed it too. Almost. But there wasn't much intelligent conversation going on, I can tell you. When it got to 8am, I decided to nip out and see if Lynda was there. She was. So I crept up to the car, leaned over the bonnet and whispered hello in my most scary Psycho fashion. My, you should have seen her jump. We both screamed. Which I'm sure the neighbours were pleased about. And she still gave me a decent haircut without cutting my ear off, so the woman is obviously a saint. I've also booked her in for highlights at the end of June, so I can look relatively interesting over the summer - so I'd better make sure to be a good client then ...
The rest of the morning was spent typing up what I've done to The Gifting thus far. And guess what! I came to the point when I'd actually typed 111,111 words. Bloody hell, I've never been there before! But I suspect that I'm never going to make it to 222,222 in one book though - at any point. Bugger. Sadly I did so enjoy realising it too - it made me feel quite binary. So much so that I kept typing another word and then deleting it just so I could go back to 111,111 again. I think it appeals to my borderline OCD Control-freak personality. Borderline? Pull the other one, eh. Anyway, you'll be relieved to know that I did manage to type some more after that in the end, and Simon is now therefore just about to face his (long) final scene - or series of linked scenes, which is what I think it'll turn out to be. Will he make it to 120,000? I can but hope.
I've also done some critiques for my Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) groups, which was fun - there was a great novel beginning which had me completely hooked and some deep poetry to enjoy. I really have no idea why those ruddy publishers out there aren't taking any of this stuff on. I mean what the hell do they think they're doing? Answer: giving us way too many "poor child made good" dull tomes and celebrity claptrap, that's what. Yawn. I long for the day when the mainstream publishers will go to the wall (or at least start publishing more interesting and less copycat market stuff), and the small publishers/writer-publishers will inherit the earth. Or at least the decent shelf space.
Oh and I've found out that the reason my copies of A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) haven't yet arrived (I ordered them in March) is that the courier delivered them to the wrong place, and Chevonne was unfortunately on holiday till now so hasn't been able to sort it out. I'm hoping that I'll have some copies to wave around at the book circle event on 30 April, but you never can tell. Thank God I have my one reading copy, so won't look like a complete buffoon on the night. At least not for that reason.
This afternoon, I popped into Godalming to get a barrel-load of shopping, including lots of relaxation oil and a job-lot of birthday cards (why does virtually everyone I know have a birthday in May??). I think I've worried the lady in Boots though - she was telling me that if I joined the Half-Price Club I could get special discounts for any relatives I had who were over 60. She didn't take kindly to my suggestion that it might be cheaper just to bump them off and bury their bodies under the patio. Ah well. Worth a try though, I would think. Oh, and I've found out, much to my surprise (and worryingly I found this rather interesting, but see above for personality disorder paragraph ...) that when I key in the funny numbers on the card machine in order to pay, I'm happier using my left hand. Strange. Then again, all our family are cack-handed in some way or other. As for me, I write with my right hand, but I wear my watch on my right hand too, and I deal cards left-handedly and fold my arms the left-handed way. And now I can add number-keying to the left-handed list. What excitement indeed. Um, sorry. Are you still awake at the back?
Tonight, I think I'm going to have a snooze on the sofa, nicely curled up with my essential cuddly lamb, or possibly the cuddly crocodile -whichever comes to hand - and then Lord H and I are out at Robin & Gavin's for dinner. Bliss. I think Liz might be there too, so I must remember not to get over-excitable during our inevitable disagreements about art - we enjoy them, but I think Lord H gets worried. I still love Liz to bits though (even though she's wrong! - oh, sorry, that just slipped out ...). As it were.
Today's nice things:
1. My hair looks good today - hurrah!
2. Writing
3. Dinner out.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
The rest of the morning was spent typing up what I've done to The Gifting thus far. And guess what! I came to the point when I'd actually typed 111,111 words. Bloody hell, I've never been there before! But I suspect that I'm never going to make it to 222,222 in one book though - at any point. Bugger. Sadly I did so enjoy realising it too - it made me feel quite binary. So much so that I kept typing another word and then deleting it just so I could go back to 111,111 again. I think it appeals to my borderline OCD Control-freak personality. Borderline? Pull the other one, eh. Anyway, you'll be relieved to know that I did manage to type some more after that in the end, and Simon is now therefore just about to face his (long) final scene - or series of linked scenes, which is what I think it'll turn out to be. Will he make it to 120,000? I can but hope.
I've also done some critiques for my Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) groups, which was fun - there was a great novel beginning which had me completely hooked and some deep poetry to enjoy. I really have no idea why those ruddy publishers out there aren't taking any of this stuff on. I mean what the hell do they think they're doing? Answer: giving us way too many "poor child made good" dull tomes and celebrity claptrap, that's what. Yawn. I long for the day when the mainstream publishers will go to the wall (or at least start publishing more interesting and less copycat market stuff), and the small publishers/writer-publishers will inherit the earth. Or at least the decent shelf space.
Oh and I've found out that the reason my copies of A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) haven't yet arrived (I ordered them in March) is that the courier delivered them to the wrong place, and Chevonne was unfortunately on holiday till now so hasn't been able to sort it out. I'm hoping that I'll have some copies to wave around at the book circle event on 30 April, but you never can tell. Thank God I have my one reading copy, so won't look like a complete buffoon on the night. At least not for that reason.
This afternoon, I popped into Godalming to get a barrel-load of shopping, including lots of relaxation oil and a job-lot of birthday cards (why does virtually everyone I know have a birthday in May??). I think I've worried the lady in Boots though - she was telling me that if I joined the Half-Price Club I could get special discounts for any relatives I had who were over 60. She didn't take kindly to my suggestion that it might be cheaper just to bump them off and bury their bodies under the patio. Ah well. Worth a try though, I would think. Oh, and I've found out, much to my surprise (and worryingly I found this rather interesting, but see above for personality disorder paragraph ...) that when I key in the funny numbers on the card machine in order to pay, I'm happier using my left hand. Strange. Then again, all our family are cack-handed in some way or other. As for me, I write with my right hand, but I wear my watch on my right hand too, and I deal cards left-handedly and fold my arms the left-handed way. And now I can add number-keying to the left-handed list. What excitement indeed. Um, sorry. Are you still awake at the back?
Tonight, I think I'm going to have a snooze on the sofa, nicely curled up with my essential cuddly lamb, or possibly the cuddly crocodile -whichever comes to hand - and then Lord H and I are out at Robin & Gavin's for dinner. Bliss. I think Liz might be there too, so I must remember not to get over-excitable during our inevitable disagreements about art - we enjoy them, but I think Lord H gets worried. I still love Liz to bits though (even though she's wrong! - oh, sorry, that just slipped out ...). As it were.
Today's nice things:
1. My hair looks good today - hurrah!
2. Writing
3. Dinner out.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Counselling, competitions and the curse of the TV
Bit slow this morning, so had to dash to get to my counselling session (http://www.castlestreetclinic.com/). Must say that Kunu had a lovely summer skirt on - I was really impressed, but didn't dare say anything in case she thought I was being more weird than normal. Or maybe she's just used to that by now? Anyway, we had a good session, better than last week, I think. We talked about my weekend of silence, and how Lord H and I communicate differently and want very different things. Well, that's something I've known for a while but it's good to talk about it to someone else.
We also talked about faith, how I felt about possibly going to the Quakers and whether I thought that I might not go anywhere for a while in fact. Again, all subjects I've mulled over myself, but it's great to get them into the open. She asked me what I thought my faith actually was, and I tried to say that really it's what it isn't and what it might be that helps me most. Sometimes it feels as if my beliefs are a huge shadowy thing lurking underneath or to the side which I can occasionally glimpse, but if you try to grasp it or label it, it simply vanishes. It's only by not looking that you sometimes see, I think.
Funnily enough, (and bear with me, because it does make sense in the end ...) I think "Foyle's War" on Sunday was helpful - the police station spent two hours trying to solve a card trick where they had to form a swastika (or fylfot in its original 15th century Christian form, before the Nazis ruined it) with only four cards. They failed. Then Foyle told them to look at the background behind the shape of the cards rather than the cards themselves, and the problem was solved. That's what I feel about faith, I think - it's not the words which count, but what's behind them. I've spent long hours in churches over the years saying the words and doing the actions, but all the time the phrase, "this isn't what I believe or at least how I best express it" is jangling through my head. Trying to express my beliefs in words is like trying to put an elephant into a suit made for a mouse. It's just not bloody possible.
Also, it's similar to what I feel about facts and the truth. For me, the two things are very different, and truth isn't found in whatever facts are flying around at the time. I've tried to explain my opinion on this to people once or twice and always received the brush-off, but I still believe it. The truth of a person, the real truth, isn't found in the facts. People are more important than that. Which is why, I think, that when people - or I - lie about myself or lie in some other area (and I do - don't we all?), the lie may not be the facts, but it might well be the truth. In a deeper sense. We're all bigger than the sum of our parts. That, for me, is what faith is. Anyway, I think Kunu got my meaning, but God knows how she's going to write all that up ...
Back home, and armed with the Radio Times and a fresh wad of much-needed cash, I've been sorting out this month's competition entries, which include my poetry and novel entries for this year's Writers' Conference (http://www.writersconference.co.uk) - the brochure arrived yesterday, and I've had fun choosing my seminars and trying for a couple of one-to-ones with editors also. Ye gods, there's always hope. I'm putting both Thorn in the Flesh and The Gifting into the novel competition, but highly doubt Piatkus Press will be that into either. Way too violent in the former case for them, and way too much gay fantasy in the latter. I fear it's a waste of £7 (£7!!! Those entry fees get higher every year, I swear!). But there you go.
That done, I popped over to see Gladys, who is very frail and confused today, but did at least know who I am. Ye gods, she's one up on me then. We spent a pleasant hour finding the Radio Times (again!) and her trusty calendar to see if we could work out what day it was, and then I showed her how to turn on her television, as she'd forgotten. Can't say I blame her on either count, to be honest. Besides they don't make TVs simple these days. The remote control has way too many buttons on for normal folk. They should make something easier to operate - what is wrong with these companies!?
Tonight, I must try to do some more to The Gifting, as I'm beginning to get that pull. Like a long wire being drawn in from my chest towards my pad of paper. God, maybe I am weird. No wonder nobody (except Julia - thanks, Julia (http://www.myspace.com/juleswalker!) answers my emails. Oh, and there's "Sea of Souls" later on TV, so Lord H and I will have to watch that. He's always so hopeful it will end happily, and always so let down when it doesn't. Ah well.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Browsing through the conference brochure
3. Watching TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
We also talked about faith, how I felt about possibly going to the Quakers and whether I thought that I might not go anywhere for a while in fact. Again, all subjects I've mulled over myself, but it's great to get them into the open. She asked me what I thought my faith actually was, and I tried to say that really it's what it isn't and what it might be that helps me most. Sometimes it feels as if my beliefs are a huge shadowy thing lurking underneath or to the side which I can occasionally glimpse, but if you try to grasp it or label it, it simply vanishes. It's only by not looking that you sometimes see, I think.
Funnily enough, (and bear with me, because it does make sense in the end ...) I think "Foyle's War" on Sunday was helpful - the police station spent two hours trying to solve a card trick where they had to form a swastika (or fylfot in its original 15th century Christian form, before the Nazis ruined it) with only four cards. They failed. Then Foyle told them to look at the background behind the shape of the cards rather than the cards themselves, and the problem was solved. That's what I feel about faith, I think - it's not the words which count, but what's behind them. I've spent long hours in churches over the years saying the words and doing the actions, but all the time the phrase, "this isn't what I believe or at least how I best express it" is jangling through my head. Trying to express my beliefs in words is like trying to put an elephant into a suit made for a mouse. It's just not bloody possible.
Also, it's similar to what I feel about facts and the truth. For me, the two things are very different, and truth isn't found in whatever facts are flying around at the time. I've tried to explain my opinion on this to people once or twice and always received the brush-off, but I still believe it. The truth of a person, the real truth, isn't found in the facts. People are more important than that. Which is why, I think, that when people - or I - lie about myself or lie in some other area (and I do - don't we all?), the lie may not be the facts, but it might well be the truth. In a deeper sense. We're all bigger than the sum of our parts. That, for me, is what faith is. Anyway, I think Kunu got my meaning, but God knows how she's going to write all that up ...
Back home, and armed with the Radio Times and a fresh wad of much-needed cash, I've been sorting out this month's competition entries, which include my poetry and novel entries for this year's Writers' Conference (http://www.writersconference.co.uk) - the brochure arrived yesterday, and I've had fun choosing my seminars and trying for a couple of one-to-ones with editors also. Ye gods, there's always hope. I'm putting both Thorn in the Flesh and The Gifting into the novel competition, but highly doubt Piatkus Press will be that into either. Way too violent in the former case for them, and way too much gay fantasy in the latter. I fear it's a waste of £7 (£7!!! Those entry fees get higher every year, I swear!). But there you go.
That done, I popped over to see Gladys, who is very frail and confused today, but did at least know who I am. Ye gods, she's one up on me then. We spent a pleasant hour finding the Radio Times (again!) and her trusty calendar to see if we could work out what day it was, and then I showed her how to turn on her television, as she'd forgotten. Can't say I blame her on either count, to be honest. Besides they don't make TVs simple these days. The remote control has way too many buttons on for normal folk. They should make something easier to operate - what is wrong with these companies!?
Tonight, I must try to do some more to The Gifting, as I'm beginning to get that pull. Like a long wire being drawn in from my chest towards my pad of paper. God, maybe I am weird. No wonder nobody (except Julia - thanks, Julia (http://www.myspace.com/juleswalker!) answers my emails. Oh, and there's "Sea of Souls" later on TV, so Lord H and I will have to watch that. He's always so hopeful it will end happily, and always so let down when it doesn't. Ah well.
Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Browsing through the conference brochure
3. Watching TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
On a downhill slope …?
This morning started out well enough. If very early, with some damn bird starting the dawn chorus when it couldn’t have been much beyond 4am. Sigh. Still, at work I managed to get my conference notes typed up in reasonable order and printed out for the boss to look at next week. And I’ve also done some rejigging to the Manor Park Mentoring handbook. We’re now three months behind our deadline, but heck things keep changing. That’s universities for you. I’ve now done so many corrections that I’m sure it bears no resemblance whatsoever to our original efforts. Ah well.
Apart from that, the day really dragged and I got quite low, I’m afraid. The stuff I did I didn’t do very quickly. Just couldn’t be bothered. Spent a lot of time staring blankly at the computer screen or the Internet and thinking absolutely nothing. You know, sometime I wonder if I’m disappearing entirely and if people are actually aware I exist at all – this would explain the lack of any obvious email response from anyone I correspond with (the old university lot, or even the wretched church lot, come to mind again, sigh …). Maybe it’s time for a happiness pill? Again.
Mind you, I went for a walk at lunchtime and sat by the lake for a while, which was quite soothing. Saw two robins hopping about, which was strange as I didn’t think male robins liked other male robins as they were supposed to be quite territorial. Still, it didn’t seem to bother those two. Oh, and on my way there I caused something of a stir in the Lecture Hall foyer, which seemed to be home to some kind of Chinese delegation. On my shortcut through, I accidentally fell in through the doorway and nearly took the tea-cup of the girl standing nearest into the great hereafter. And I didn’t look so elegant either. They were all very sweet though, rushing to my aid and trying not to fuss. Perhaps they thought it was some quaint English custom – it’s hard to say.
Oh, and as I was leaving, Adriana from the UniSWriters came up and said she was intending to go to the Book Circle discussion of A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) on Monday 30th April – thank you so much, Adriana! That really lifted me. More than you can know. So at least there’ll be two of us there on the night. I just hope that there’ll be someone else there who’s actually read the book apart from me. Please God!...
This evening, I played golf after work with Marian, and attempted to look young and glamorous this time – but I suspect no-one was fooled. We had a brief discussion about church (she’s not a church-goer), during which she was astonished that nobody from St Peter’s had come round or phoned/emailed me to see what was going on. Well, join the club, Marian! Still, ’twas ever thus, and heck I should know – in my lifetime, I’ve left more churches than is strictly necessary. Honest follow-up for the disenfranchised isn’t their strong point. Though perhaps they're just pleased to be rid of me? Maybe I should learn from my own history, eh? Oh, but it’s Wednesday so it’s sherry night. Thank God! That'll ease the stretched thought processes.
Tonight, I’m planning a serious slump, with maybe some writing if I have any energy levels left (at all). And an early night. Let’s hope that damn bird from this morning doesn’t start its foghorn tweet while I’m still attempting to get some shut-eye this time. Hmm, some hope …
Today’s nice things:
1. Lunchtime walking
2. Two robins
3. Adriana’s Book Circle commitment – hurrah!
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Apart from that, the day really dragged and I got quite low, I’m afraid. The stuff I did I didn’t do very quickly. Just couldn’t be bothered. Spent a lot of time staring blankly at the computer screen or the Internet and thinking absolutely nothing. You know, sometime I wonder if I’m disappearing entirely and if people are actually aware I exist at all – this would explain the lack of any obvious email response from anyone I correspond with (the old university lot, or even the wretched church lot, come to mind again, sigh …). Maybe it’s time for a happiness pill? Again.
Mind you, I went for a walk at lunchtime and sat by the lake for a while, which was quite soothing. Saw two robins hopping about, which was strange as I didn’t think male robins liked other male robins as they were supposed to be quite territorial. Still, it didn’t seem to bother those two. Oh, and on my way there I caused something of a stir in the Lecture Hall foyer, which seemed to be home to some kind of Chinese delegation. On my shortcut through, I accidentally fell in through the doorway and nearly took the tea-cup of the girl standing nearest into the great hereafter. And I didn’t look so elegant either. They were all very sweet though, rushing to my aid and trying not to fuss. Perhaps they thought it was some quaint English custom – it’s hard to say.
Oh, and as I was leaving, Adriana from the UniSWriters came up and said she was intending to go to the Book Circle discussion of A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) on Monday 30th April – thank you so much, Adriana! That really lifted me. More than you can know. So at least there’ll be two of us there on the night. I just hope that there’ll be someone else there who’s actually read the book apart from me. Please God!...
This evening, I played golf after work with Marian, and attempted to look young and glamorous this time – but I suspect no-one was fooled. We had a brief discussion about church (she’s not a church-goer), during which she was astonished that nobody from St Peter’s had come round or phoned/emailed me to see what was going on. Well, join the club, Marian! Still, ’twas ever thus, and heck I should know – in my lifetime, I’ve left more churches than is strictly necessary. Honest follow-up for the disenfranchised isn’t their strong point. Though perhaps they're just pleased to be rid of me? Maybe I should learn from my own history, eh? Oh, but it’s Wednesday so it’s sherry night. Thank God! That'll ease the stretched thought processes.
Tonight, I’m planning a serious slump, with maybe some writing if I have any energy levels left (at all). And an early night. Let’s hope that damn bird from this morning doesn’t start its foghorn tweet while I’m still attempting to get some shut-eye this time. Hmm, some hope …
Today’s nice things:
1. Lunchtime walking
2. Two robins
3. Adriana’s Book Circle commitment – hurrah!
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Reflexology, more reviews and the curse of the Japanese toilet
Was thrilled last night when Roger Morris (http://rogersplog.blogspot.com/), author of the marvellous Taking Comfort and the mysterious and much-praised A Gentle Axe, emailed me with a few comments on A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) which can be found here: http://therapsheet.blogspot.com/2007/04/looking-to-future.html under the entry for 16 April, half way down, or as below:
“Another small publisher with an interesting list, and an original approach, is Flame Books. It’s the publisher of the novel I’m reading at the moment, a crime work called A Dangerous Man, by Anne Brooke. A Dangerous Man has garnered praise from no less a writer than Andrew Taylor, who described it as “a dark and chilling parable about art, love and murder.” What’s remarkable about Anne Brooke’s work is her ability to enter convincingly and with extraordinary empathy into the milieus of her protagonists, which I imagine are very different from her own. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t believe she has that much direct experience of male homosexual prostitutes, which makes this a bold and brave book for her to write. I’m all for brave, bold books.”
Gosh, thanks, Roger. Much appreciated. I’m not sure that Michael and I ever feel either brave or bold actually, but there you go …! But, heck, both of us are really pleased you’re liking the book.
At work, it’s been slow but steady, and I’m still ploughing my way through my conference notes. Groan. I was however both cheered and brought back to reality again (as he didn’t like the ending, which is fair enough, and, for the purposes of being honest about my reviews, I’m reproducing as much as I can without spoiling the plot) by an email from Jay Mandal, author of A Different Kind of Love and Slubberdegullion amongst other work (http://www.bewrite.net), who has just finished ADM and says the following:
“I always knew you could write, and this was very, very good. I thoroughly enjoyed it … You’ve found ‘your voice’ (I hate that expression, too). Stick with it. It was taut, edgy, gripping, exciting, a page turner, and I read it slowly because I didn’t want to finish it. It was powerful and passionate, and I wished I’d written it myself. I was really on Michael’s side … The ending was the only thing where I felt let down. I don’t mean sad … I mean I thought it might have been better if it had ended differently. Obviously this is just a personal opinion … Not only did it seem too bleak, but also too out of character.”
Thanks, Jay, for all the comments. They’re much appreciated also. It’s good to get a different view but I must say that, speaking as someone who’s had Michael in her head for years, both he and I honestly feel I couldn’t have ended it any other way. It was the part of the book where his voice and mine gelled the most. Writing it that way felt fantastic and just seemed so fitting. But I do understand that people will find it difficult.
Anyway, all this excitement got me through to lunchtime, when I had a blissful reflexology session and just chilled. I think I might try some Reiki next time, as Emily (http://www.optimum-fitness.co.uk) always adds a couple of minutes of Reiki (at foot level, strange to say!) after my session and I really love it. I certainly need to get my energy levels in some kind of balance, but heck I’ve always known that.
Oh, and Lord H has told me there is apparently some kind of excitement over the curse of the Japanese toilet on the news. It appears that the new craze in Japan is to have electronically heated toilets/bidets (gross thought in itself!) which do virtually everything for you bar the washing-up (though maybe that’s not a good phrase to use in the same sentence as “bidet” …). Unfortunately, the electronics has gone wrong so some of them burst into flame without warning. Scary!! So just when you thought that all you had was a nice warm bottom, beware … Nobody’s been injured yet (thank goodness! Though how could you ever tell anyone!?...), so thank God for small mercies, eh …
Tonight, I might do a bit of scribbling but we’ll see. I’m also aiming to watch “Sea of Souls” on TV, which is probably too scary for my delicate constitution, but I do enjoy the classy pap of it.
And finally, on a more serious note and bearing in mind my part-time paid occupation, I’d like to extend sympathies and a terrified kind of understanding to the staff and students of Virginia Tech University. Dear God, it could happen to any of us institutions here in the Higher Education world, as it’s already happened in too many schools. But why oh why didn’t they at least try to shut the whole darn thing down after the first incident?? I know it’s a virtually impossible task in something the size and structure of a normal campus, but you would have thought something could have been done. I hope we’ll all learn lessons from this, in every way. Please God.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
“Another small publisher with an interesting list, and an original approach, is Flame Books. It’s the publisher of the novel I’m reading at the moment, a crime work called A Dangerous Man, by Anne Brooke. A Dangerous Man has garnered praise from no less a writer than Andrew Taylor, who described it as “a dark and chilling parable about art, love and murder.” What’s remarkable about Anne Brooke’s work is her ability to enter convincingly and with extraordinary empathy into the milieus of her protagonists, which I imagine are very different from her own. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t believe she has that much direct experience of male homosexual prostitutes, which makes this a bold and brave book for her to write. I’m all for brave, bold books.”
Gosh, thanks, Roger. Much appreciated. I’m not sure that Michael and I ever feel either brave or bold actually, but there you go …! But, heck, both of us are really pleased you’re liking the book.
At work, it’s been slow but steady, and I’m still ploughing my way through my conference notes. Groan. I was however both cheered and brought back to reality again (as he didn’t like the ending, which is fair enough, and, for the purposes of being honest about my reviews, I’m reproducing as much as I can without spoiling the plot) by an email from Jay Mandal, author of A Different Kind of Love and Slubberdegullion amongst other work (http://www.bewrite.net), who has just finished ADM and says the following:
“I always knew you could write, and this was very, very good. I thoroughly enjoyed it … You’ve found ‘your voice’ (I hate that expression, too). Stick with it. It was taut, edgy, gripping, exciting, a page turner, and I read it slowly because I didn’t want to finish it. It was powerful and passionate, and I wished I’d written it myself. I was really on Michael’s side … The ending was the only thing where I felt let down. I don’t mean sad … I mean I thought it might have been better if it had ended differently. Obviously this is just a personal opinion … Not only did it seem too bleak, but also too out of character.”
Thanks, Jay, for all the comments. They’re much appreciated also. It’s good to get a different view but I must say that, speaking as someone who’s had Michael in her head for years, both he and I honestly feel I couldn’t have ended it any other way. It was the part of the book where his voice and mine gelled the most. Writing it that way felt fantastic and just seemed so fitting. But I do understand that people will find it difficult.
Anyway, all this excitement got me through to lunchtime, when I had a blissful reflexology session and just chilled. I think I might try some Reiki next time, as Emily (http://www.optimum-fitness.co.uk) always adds a couple of minutes of Reiki (at foot level, strange to say!) after my session and I really love it. I certainly need to get my energy levels in some kind of balance, but heck I’ve always known that.
Oh, and Lord H has told me there is apparently some kind of excitement over the curse of the Japanese toilet on the news. It appears that the new craze in Japan is to have electronically heated toilets/bidets (gross thought in itself!) which do virtually everything for you bar the washing-up (though maybe that’s not a good phrase to use in the same sentence as “bidet” …). Unfortunately, the electronics has gone wrong so some of them burst into flame without warning. Scary!! So just when you thought that all you had was a nice warm bottom, beware … Nobody’s been injured yet (thank goodness! Though how could you ever tell anyone!?...), so thank God for small mercies, eh …
Tonight, I might do a bit of scribbling but we’ll see. I’m also aiming to watch “Sea of Souls” on TV, which is probably too scary for my delicate constitution, but I do enjoy the classy pap of it.
And finally, on a more serious note and bearing in mind my part-time paid occupation, I’d like to extend sympathies and a terrified kind of understanding to the staff and students of Virginia Tech University. Dear God, it could happen to any of us institutions here in the Higher Education world, as it’s already happened in too many schools. But why oh why didn’t they at least try to shut the whole darn thing down after the first incident?? I know it’s a virtually impossible task in something the size and structure of a normal campus, but you would have thought something could have been done. I hope we’ll all learn lessons from this, in every way. Please God.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Monday, April 16, 2007
Back to the grindstone
First day back at work - argghh!!! Though actually it hasn't been as horrific as I'd feared. I even got all my emails cleared by about 11.30am, which was nice. A ruddy miracle too! And the blessed Ruth had saved me some small chocolate eggs from Easter and left them on my desk as a welcome back, so I could have married her and had her babies there and then. Not only that but she'd left a large chocolate egg in the fridge, so it's like heaven in Student Care Services at the moment. Chocolate heaven.
I spent lunchtime wandering round the lake and sitting watching it. The trees on the walk to the public carpark are absolutely stunning (and I'm not usually a great nature fan. Nature? Bah! Red of tooth and claw ...) - a riot of pink blossom. I felt quite happy looking at that, and indeed at the lake. Two moments of happiness in one day? And at work? What in the world is happening to me??
This afternoon, we didn't get a great deal done. It was Penny's birthday so we went over to Student Advice (where she works) and had chocolate (surprise!) cake and an hour's chat. You can tell the boss isn't in ... It was great. Penny's actually leaving in two weeks' time and I shall miss her like crazy though. She's the voice of cynicism in a world of niceness. And how we need those!
Ooh, I've just finished reading Paul Burston's (http://www.myspace.com/paulburston) new novel, Lovers and Losers. I really enjoyed it - I loved the characters, and it's a warm-hearted and fun tale. Must admit to thinking that the book cover doesn't do justice to the book, which is far warmer and more humane than the plastic-looking front cover would have you believe. So don't be put off - buy it anyway! It's great!
And the lovely Gillian (http://www.myspace.com/gillian75) has emailed me to say how much she enjoyed A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and that she's in love with Michael. So thanks, Gillian - much appreciated - and that makes 3 of us now! Michael will be pleased. He never thought that, apart from me, he'd have much of an ardent fan club ... Gillian has also been kind enough (thanks again, Gillian ...) to leave a comment on the Flame Books Myspace site (http://www.myspace.com/flamebooks) so I hope that means they will smile upon me for a while. I can be Good Author sometimes, you know!
Tonight, once Lord H (now happier again and standing at the edge of his cave, phew ...!) returns from the shops, I shall chill with a capital C, maybe with a well-deserved G&T in my hands, and look forward to "New Tricks" on TV. Just the thing to do the ironing to. Dammit.
Today's nice things:
1. Lovers and Losers
2. Chocolate eggs at work
3. TV
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
I spent lunchtime wandering round the lake and sitting watching it. The trees on the walk to the public carpark are absolutely stunning (and I'm not usually a great nature fan. Nature? Bah! Red of tooth and claw ...) - a riot of pink blossom. I felt quite happy looking at that, and indeed at the lake. Two moments of happiness in one day? And at work? What in the world is happening to me??
This afternoon, we didn't get a great deal done. It was Penny's birthday so we went over to Student Advice (where she works) and had chocolate (surprise!) cake and an hour's chat. You can tell the boss isn't in ... It was great. Penny's actually leaving in two weeks' time and I shall miss her like crazy though. She's the voice of cynicism in a world of niceness. And how we need those!
Ooh, I've just finished reading Paul Burston's (http://www.myspace.com/paulburston) new novel, Lovers and Losers. I really enjoyed it - I loved the characters, and it's a warm-hearted and fun tale. Must admit to thinking that the book cover doesn't do justice to the book, which is far warmer and more humane than the plastic-looking front cover would have you believe. So don't be put off - buy it anyway! It's great!
And the lovely Gillian (http://www.myspace.com/gillian75) has emailed me to say how much she enjoyed A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and that she's in love with Michael. So thanks, Gillian - much appreciated - and that makes 3 of us now! Michael will be pleased. He never thought that, apart from me, he'd have much of an ardent fan club ... Gillian has also been kind enough (thanks again, Gillian ...) to leave a comment on the Flame Books Myspace site (http://www.myspace.com/flamebooks) so I hope that means they will smile upon me for a while. I can be Good Author sometimes, you know!
Tonight, once Lord H (now happier again and standing at the edge of his cave, phew ...!) returns from the shops, I shall chill with a capital C, maybe with a well-deserved G&T in my hands, and look forward to "New Tricks" on TV. Just the thing to do the ironing to. Dammit.
Today's nice things:
1. Lovers and Losers
2. Chocolate eggs at work
3. TV
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Last day of Easter hols ...
... sigh. Work tomorrow - groan! I always hate the last day of any holiday (even if it's just a weekend and a normal Sunday) but this one's worse; what with conferencing and Easter university closure days, I haven't been in for a lifetime, so tomorrow morning is going to arrive like an unwelcome visitor. With a case. Thank goodness the boss isn't in, so it gives me time to get used to it all again without the need for a false professional face. Not that the boss is horrible - it's just that all bosses like to see that false professional face or they start asking awkward questions. Which is the last thing I need.
This morning, Lord H (still silent) went to church, but I stayed behind as I guessed (rightly, no doubt) that I'd be happier washing the car. Which I did. I also typed up the scribblings I've done to The Gifting onto the computer, and am now at the 110,000 words marker. With one section of my current scene left, followed by the big end scene. My, how I like a big finish. I've also written a poem, cooked a chicken and chatted briefly to one of the neighbours. So I feel that my duties are done.
Oh, and I've finished reading some really dreadful books. Though maybe "given up" is more accurate than "finished". First up is the truly appalling The Lighthouse by PD James. Call me an iconoclast (if you must), but I really do think that her appeal went out with the 1980s. It's excruciatingly dull, full of mindless details and backstory I don't much care about, and nothing at all happened before I gave up (about halfway through). It just seems an astonishingly old-fashioned way of writing. The second novel - which I skimmed through but did (just) manage to get to the end of - was Andrew O'Hagan's Be Near Me. I should have been warned as to its unreadability by its Booker longlisting, but really I am a fool to myself. It's about a dickhead priest with no charm and no sense. And no redeeming features, as far as I can see. Also cliched stuff re child abuse done boringly and with no sensitivity (so, yawn) and a long-lost gay love (double yawn). There is a glorious moment though when, near the beginning, he tries to talk to a music teacher at school who has an armful of violins and who, he believes, is obviously trying to get away from him whilst using the violins as a barrier. Believe me, I am right with that violin-teacher. I too spent the whole novel trying to get away from Father David, but sadly the ruddy man was just so much up his own arse that it simply wasn't possible. Sigh.
Later on, I shall ring Mother (arrggh!!), and I'm planning to watch "Ugly Betty" and "Foyle's War" on TV. So something to look forward to then before the horrors of Monday - hurrah!
This week's haiku (in honour of the weekend so far - double sigh!):
They say that silence
is golden. Wrong. Yours remains
silver and spiky.
Today's nice things:
1. Getting to 110,000 words in The Gifting
2. Not having to open those two dreadful James/O'Hagan books again - ever!
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
This morning, Lord H (still silent) went to church, but I stayed behind as I guessed (rightly, no doubt) that I'd be happier washing the car. Which I did. I also typed up the scribblings I've done to The Gifting onto the computer, and am now at the 110,000 words marker. With one section of my current scene left, followed by the big end scene. My, how I like a big finish. I've also written a poem, cooked a chicken and chatted briefly to one of the neighbours. So I feel that my duties are done.
Oh, and I've finished reading some really dreadful books. Though maybe "given up" is more accurate than "finished". First up is the truly appalling The Lighthouse by PD James. Call me an iconoclast (if you must), but I really do think that her appeal went out with the 1980s. It's excruciatingly dull, full of mindless details and backstory I don't much care about, and nothing at all happened before I gave up (about halfway through). It just seems an astonishingly old-fashioned way of writing. The second novel - which I skimmed through but did (just) manage to get to the end of - was Andrew O'Hagan's Be Near Me. I should have been warned as to its unreadability by its Booker longlisting, but really I am a fool to myself. It's about a dickhead priest with no charm and no sense. And no redeeming features, as far as I can see. Also cliched stuff re child abuse done boringly and with no sensitivity (so, yawn) and a long-lost gay love (double yawn). There is a glorious moment though when, near the beginning, he tries to talk to a music teacher at school who has an armful of violins and who, he believes, is obviously trying to get away from him whilst using the violins as a barrier. Believe me, I am right with that violin-teacher. I too spent the whole novel trying to get away from Father David, but sadly the ruddy man was just so much up his own arse that it simply wasn't possible. Sigh.
Later on, I shall ring Mother (arrggh!!), and I'm planning to watch "Ugly Betty" and "Foyle's War" on TV. So something to look forward to then before the horrors of Monday - hurrah!
This week's haiku (in honour of the weekend so far - double sigh!):
They say that silence
is golden. Wrong. Yours remains
silver and spiky.
Today's nice things:
1. Getting to 110,000 words in The Gifting
2. Not having to open those two dreadful James/O'Hagan books again - ever!
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Second Amazon review and A Stranger's Table request
Great joy this morning to discover a second five-star Amazon review (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=sr_1_4/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176559428&sr=8-4) for A Dangerous Man (thanks, Sue! Great pseudonym too!...), which I reproduce below:
"I thought the novel was suspenseful, unsettling and well paced and took me into a world that is totally alien to me; that of gay men and the art world. Although the main character, Michael, is not your normal type of hero - in fact he is a very dark personality indeed - I felt a real empathy for him and I found myself rooting for him until the end (even when he had stepped over the boundary into criminality). The final chapters of the book are gripping as the shadows that have been stalking Michael come to the surface and threaten to ruin his all too brief taste of success. There is a sense of foreboding as the reader realises that there is surely tragedy ahead for Michael and the people who surround him. I thought the writing throughout was excellent, particularly in the final more violent scenes, and I found it easy to visualise what was being played out in front of me. I was sorry to be coming to the end of the novel so I left the final few chapters until later in the day to savour reading them - what a sign of a good book that is!"
Glad you enjoyed it, ... um, Poohbunny(!), and thanks for putting it up there. Much appreciated!
I've also, much to my delight, had a request for A Stranger's Table (http://www.poetrymonthly.com), which has cheered me no end. Hey, someone out there likes poetry! So, many thanks, Richard - and a signed copy will be in the post to you on Monday. Finally, as the ultimate hat-trick, I see I am in this month's edition of Writers' News (http://www.writersnews.co.uk), and that Michael and Flame (http://www.flamebooks.com) are mentioned, so that's lovely too. All three of us are very pleased, I'm sure.
The rest of my day so far has been spent lolling around aimlessly and squeezing out some more words to The Gifting. I've also attempted to contact my agent, but at the moment it seems to be a one-way track so I'm not holding out a great deal of hope (John? Are you there? Come out if you're still in the building ...). Perhaps he'll show greater interest once I've completed the novel, especially as fantasy is his genre of expertise - there's always that hope anyway! And, of course, as I'm very much a Z-list author, I imagine there's not a deal of point in him spending much time on me until I can deliver the goods. So, don't wait up then, at least not in terms of the big publishers, methinks ... Sigh.
And I've just watched An American in Paris on TV - lost of fun with Gene Kelly, the joys of tap-dance and some good one-liners, though I could have done without the ridiculous dance schmalz extravaganza at the end. A wasted ten minutes there, to my mind. Though I loved the character of the cynical concert pianist - great!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Lord H has entered one of his periodic silent zones (more silent than usual anyway ...), during which he speaks to no-one, particularly me, and mooches round the flat sulking. I've learnt over the years that he's best left to it, and am hoping that he emerges from the male cave in a day or two. Question to the boys: just what is it you do in that darn cave anyway??! Last year, he actually managed a week, but then again I was out a lot in the evenings that time, so may not have noticed as much (bad wife! Bad wife!...). Still, we'll see, and if I want idle chatter, I can always switch the TV on. Or ring Mother (yikes! That's worse!). Mind you, the good thing is that during such times, he does get a lot of DIY done, and even now is doing something peculiar with a new bookcase. So it's not all bad news and lettuce. (Lord B-I-L: if you're there, and have any good family tips, don't keep them to yourself!!...)
Tonight, I'm hoping they'll show Dr Who and it won't be kicked out due to overtime in some silly sports match or other (pause for brickbats to be lobbed!...). And I might try for some more scribbling. Might even get to the end of a page - who knows?
Today's nice things:
1. The Amazon review
2. The request for A Stranger's Table
3. Being in Writers' News magazine
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
"I thought the novel was suspenseful, unsettling and well paced and took me into a world that is totally alien to me; that of gay men and the art world. Although the main character, Michael, is not your normal type of hero - in fact he is a very dark personality indeed - I felt a real empathy for him and I found myself rooting for him until the end (even when he had stepped over the boundary into criminality). The final chapters of the book are gripping as the shadows that have been stalking Michael come to the surface and threaten to ruin his all too brief taste of success. There is a sense of foreboding as the reader realises that there is surely tragedy ahead for Michael and the people who surround him. I thought the writing throughout was excellent, particularly in the final more violent scenes, and I found it easy to visualise what was being played out in front of me. I was sorry to be coming to the end of the novel so I left the final few chapters until later in the day to savour reading them - what a sign of a good book that is!"
Glad you enjoyed it, ... um, Poohbunny(!), and thanks for putting it up there. Much appreciated!
I've also, much to my delight, had a request for A Stranger's Table (http://www.poetrymonthly.com), which has cheered me no end. Hey, someone out there likes poetry! So, many thanks, Richard - and a signed copy will be in the post to you on Monday. Finally, as the ultimate hat-trick, I see I am in this month's edition of Writers' News (http://www.writersnews.co.uk), and that Michael and Flame (http://www.flamebooks.com) are mentioned, so that's lovely too. All three of us are very pleased, I'm sure.
The rest of my day so far has been spent lolling around aimlessly and squeezing out some more words to The Gifting. I've also attempted to contact my agent, but at the moment it seems to be a one-way track so I'm not holding out a great deal of hope (John? Are you there? Come out if you're still in the building ...). Perhaps he'll show greater interest once I've completed the novel, especially as fantasy is his genre of expertise - there's always that hope anyway! And, of course, as I'm very much a Z-list author, I imagine there's not a deal of point in him spending much time on me until I can deliver the goods. So, don't wait up then, at least not in terms of the big publishers, methinks ... Sigh.
And I've just watched An American in Paris on TV - lost of fun with Gene Kelly, the joys of tap-dance and some good one-liners, though I could have done without the ridiculous dance schmalz extravaganza at the end. A wasted ten minutes there, to my mind. Though I loved the character of the cynical concert pianist - great!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Lord H has entered one of his periodic silent zones (more silent than usual anyway ...), during which he speaks to no-one, particularly me, and mooches round the flat sulking. I've learnt over the years that he's best left to it, and am hoping that he emerges from the male cave in a day or two. Question to the boys: just what is it you do in that darn cave anyway??! Last year, he actually managed a week, but then again I was out a lot in the evenings that time, so may not have noticed as much (bad wife! Bad wife!...). Still, we'll see, and if I want idle chatter, I can always switch the TV on. Or ring Mother (yikes! That's worse!). Mind you, the good thing is that during such times, he does get a lot of DIY done, and even now is doing something peculiar with a new bookcase. So it's not all bad news and lettuce. (Lord B-I-L: if you're there, and have any good family tips, don't keep them to yourself!!...)
Tonight, I'm hoping they'll show Dr Who and it won't be kicked out due to overtime in some silly sports match or other (pause for brickbats to be lobbed!...). And I might try for some more scribbling. Might even get to the end of a page - who knows?
Today's nice things:
1. The Amazon review
2. The request for A Stranger's Table
3. Being in Writers' News magazine
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Friday, April 13, 2007
Golf, greying and Gifting
A lazier start to the morning today. Feel I might have been coming down with something (pause for swooning ...) but have had a dose of Lemsip and feel much better, thank you. Played golf with Marian before lunch - the course was pleasantly empty in spite of the school holidays. And, pleasingly, the two lads that started behind us were actually slower than we were (rare in today's young male golfer, I have to say!) so we easily pulled ahead. Oh, and I got a par (a par!! Ye gods, the age of miracles is not dead!) on the first and looked - for a brief while - like a super-hip golfing professional. However I might have peaked too soon ... All in all though, we had a good time and didn't play badly. We both managed to get our balls in the pond on the sixth though - which is nicer than it sounds as we don't usually manage to strike them so far. Luckily, the ducks paddling on the pond at the time survived the experience. Well, they should be more careful on a golf course ... What do they expect?
Afterwards, we were chatting to the club receptionist about life, the universe and golf (in order of rising importance), and she was apparently startled to realise I am only 42. She thought I was in my 50s. Yikes! The optimist in me is hoping that this is due to the fact that Marian is in her mid 60s and I am deemed old by conjunction, but I now fear that too much staring at the computer screen and lack of decent beauty products in my 20s are at last taking their toll. I am rushing for more of Jane H's special Nutrimetics (http://www.nutrimetics.co.uk) apricot oil and a date with the plastic surgeon even as I type. Alas, I fear however that particular horse may have bolted a long time since. I am a Hag before my time! Thank goodness Lord H's sight is so bad. He probably believes I'm Marilyn Monroe. I wish.
I have done some more scribbling to The Gifting, and am getting Simon to a key scene with his father (it's a flashback). At last. But I don't really feel able to start it today - though I might do some over the weekend depending - as I think that one will take a tank-full of energy. At least. And I am within a whisker of 109,000 words, so feel I am possibly approaching the final lap. One hopes. Bloody hell, I can almost imagine a time when I might have finished it. And what the hell will I do when that happens?? Ah, edit, edit, edit ... Oh, and I've uploaded the next section of The Gifting up on the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) site for comment (the Groups continue to be a good source of support), so I'll see what they say.
And, once again, I am proved wrong in my pronouncements; two of the old university gang emailed me yesterday, after I'd moaned that they never communicate. C'est la vie, eh? Though actually, I only understood one of the messages. I suspect the old friend who sent the meaningless email (twice!) probably needs either (a) a crash course in how to communicate through the Web in a non-abrupt way or (b) not to use it at all, really. Either way, I've been invited up for a gals' night out in London in April which is, to be honest, filling me with dread even though I should be delighted. I mean, I'll be going up to the Big City in May anyway to see my old school friend (thanks, Bryony!) and I'd much rather do that than go up to see a crowd (well, three or four, but to me that's a crowd) in order to say the same things we always say and have to perform the same social tricks I always perform. Um, yes, I am cynical. You've guessed it. So anyway, I have sent a vague reply and not promised anything. I'll see how brave and strong I feel on the day.
Tonight, it's pizza, garlic bread and ice cream - hurrah! Followed by shed-loads of TV, so my life is complete. I suppose I ought to do some cleaning, if only to show willing, but I don't know if I can be arsed, and I might leave it till tomorrow anyway. Hmm, I'm never going to be a serious entry for the Enthusiasm Olympics, am I? And my latest self-help read is called "Authentic Happiness" and even has its own website (http://www.authentichappiness.sas.upenn.edu/) so I really should make an effort. Sigh!
Today's nice things:
1. Golf
2. Writing
3. Getting a date to meet Bryony - hurrah! (though she's unlikely to recognise the grey-haired, wrinkly old slapper I'll no doubt have turned into by then ...)
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Afterwards, we were chatting to the club receptionist about life, the universe and golf (in order of rising importance), and she was apparently startled to realise I am only 42. She thought I was in my 50s. Yikes! The optimist in me is hoping that this is due to the fact that Marian is in her mid 60s and I am deemed old by conjunction, but I now fear that too much staring at the computer screen and lack of decent beauty products in my 20s are at last taking their toll. I am rushing for more of Jane H's special Nutrimetics (http://www.nutrimetics.co.uk) apricot oil and a date with the plastic surgeon even as I type. Alas, I fear however that particular horse may have bolted a long time since. I am a Hag before my time! Thank goodness Lord H's sight is so bad. He probably believes I'm Marilyn Monroe. I wish.
I have done some more scribbling to The Gifting, and am getting Simon to a key scene with his father (it's a flashback). At last. But I don't really feel able to start it today - though I might do some over the weekend depending - as I think that one will take a tank-full of energy. At least. And I am within a whisker of 109,000 words, so feel I am possibly approaching the final lap. One hopes. Bloody hell, I can almost imagine a time when I might have finished it. And what the hell will I do when that happens?? Ah, edit, edit, edit ... Oh, and I've uploaded the next section of The Gifting up on the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) site for comment (the Groups continue to be a good source of support), so I'll see what they say.
And, once again, I am proved wrong in my pronouncements; two of the old university gang emailed me yesterday, after I'd moaned that they never communicate. C'est la vie, eh? Though actually, I only understood one of the messages. I suspect the old friend who sent the meaningless email (twice!) probably needs either (a) a crash course in how to communicate through the Web in a non-abrupt way or (b) not to use it at all, really. Either way, I've been invited up for a gals' night out in London in April which is, to be honest, filling me with dread even though I should be delighted. I mean, I'll be going up to the Big City in May anyway to see my old school friend (thanks, Bryony!) and I'd much rather do that than go up to see a crowd (well, three or four, but to me that's a crowd) in order to say the same things we always say and have to perform the same social tricks I always perform. Um, yes, I am cynical. You've guessed it. So anyway, I have sent a vague reply and not promised anything. I'll see how brave and strong I feel on the day.
Tonight, it's pizza, garlic bread and ice cream - hurrah! Followed by shed-loads of TV, so my life is complete. I suppose I ought to do some cleaning, if only to show willing, but I don't know if I can be arsed, and I might leave it till tomorrow anyway. Hmm, I'm never going to be a serious entry for the Enthusiasm Olympics, am I? And my latest self-help read is called "Authentic Happiness" and even has its own website (http://www.authentichappiness.sas.upenn.edu/) so I really should make an effort. Sigh!
Today's nice things:
1. Golf
2. Writing
3. Getting a date to meet Bryony - hurrah! (though she's unlikely to recognise the grey-haired, wrinkly old slapper I'll no doubt have turned into by then ...)
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Counselling, virtual worlds and a wasp battle
Had to get up at a non-writers time today (ie before 9am - ye gods, how will I survive the length of the day?...) in order to get to my Counselling appointment this morning. We talked about families and church. So no change there then. But I have now got to the point when I realise that, for the moment, I'm not going to go back to St Peter's. And I'm not looking for another CofE church to replace them either. Hell, it feels like a decision, and it also feels as if I'm finally - at least in one small part of life - attempting to be me and make my own choices. Rather than attempting to please everyone else and do what is expected. I may well go to the local Quaker meeting in Godalming this Sunday, but it will depend on how I feel on the day. We'll see. It is interesting though that last week I did finally get round to opening the bumph the Quakers sent me a couple of months ago. The envelope has been lurking at the side of the sofa for so long that I was starting to forget about it entirely. But it's open now, and even partially read. Again, we'll see.
Kunu's parting shot this morning was to say that I should look into enjoying more in life, rather than being hung up with achieving lots. She's said it before, I know, but it doesn't come easily. Maybe my achievement conveyor-belt lifestyle is what's stopping me being me, properly at least. Hmm, another thought to ponder a while. I fear. Anyway, whilst in town, I mooched around Marks & Spencer for a while, wondering where all the lovely things they show us on TV are actually kept, and failing to find them. Asking an assistant is way too much commitment. But I did find some nice t-shirts for £5, and in a 3-for-2 offer, so may well pop back in on Saturday to make real-live purchases. If it comes under my new enjoyment quota, that is.
At home, I've typed up more of the current scene from The Gifting onto the computer. And I know where that part of the book is going now, so that's clarified things for me. Just have to write the ruddy stuff really. Once again, a slower writing day today, but it's - hell - enjoyable.
I've also broken my one last connection with St Peter's; I've cancelled my standing order to them, emailed the church treasurer to tell him this (though I don't expect any reply, as these days it seems that neither church people nor my old university set have the courtesy to answer any of my missives any more. At least not in ways I can understand, bitch bitch!...). In its place, I've sent off a form to give regular payments to the Yvonne Arnaud theatre (http://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk) in Guildford. Well, I've worked out that I get far more enjoyment from the theatre than I do from the church, so what the hell, eh.
This afternoon, I paid Gladys a short visit - she was worrying about dandelions in the garden and a small fallen tree, but has a man coming on Monday to sort it out. I'm always a great approver of men who come to sort things out. A wonderful and dying breed. Sadly. Also, I was incredibly brave (for me) as there was a nasty looking wasp in her living room whilst we were talking, and I managed to (a) not scream and run sobbing from her house, and (b) get rid of it through the window for her. Really, I'm astonished at myself. It's probably my Courage Quota for the month. Maybe even the year. And please God don't let there be the swarms of wasps there were last year - I really can't stand it! It's like being invaded. In my own home too. Damn it.
Ooh, and Flame Books (http://www.flamebooks.com) have joined Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/flamebooks) and sent me a Friends invite. Thanks, Sean! Much appreciated, and welcome to the strange virtual world we all dwell in these days. Sadly though, so far I seem to be Sean's only friend, so I hope his social calendar fills up soon. If Michael had a Myspace profile, I'd send him round at once, of course.
Talking of virtual worlds, I must admit that I have times of getting really fed up with the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) world these days. It is (or it was) a good site, and the Groups are great, but I think the forums are getting way too cumbersome and sometimes downright unfriendly these days. Possibly it might be a victim of its own success, which is a shame. Recently I've found myself trying not to get involved with it quite so much, and I definitely feel far less supported on there than I used to be. There's just too many people, and the personal touch has gone, to my mind. Though I really don't want to leave it entirely, especially as parts of the site are incredibly useful, actually I feel far happier on Myspace, to be honest.
And I've just finished reading Jed Rubenfeld's The Interpretation of Murder. Marvellous novel - a pleasure to read, although I do think it was rather too convoluted, especially towards the end. But that doesn't matter, as the characters are just so hot, and it's got some top-notch one liners. A delight really. Go out and read it before they make the film.
Tonight, I'm planning some more scribbling, and it's Catherine Tate on TV later. Bliss. I love her. We redheads must stick together. I always admire a woman with attitude. Bliss.
Today's nice things:
1. Writing
2. Winning a battle with a wasp - for once
3. The pleasures of Rubenfeld's book.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Kunu's parting shot this morning was to say that I should look into enjoying more in life, rather than being hung up with achieving lots. She's said it before, I know, but it doesn't come easily. Maybe my achievement conveyor-belt lifestyle is what's stopping me being me, properly at least. Hmm, another thought to ponder a while. I fear. Anyway, whilst in town, I mooched around Marks & Spencer for a while, wondering where all the lovely things they show us on TV are actually kept, and failing to find them. Asking an assistant is way too much commitment. But I did find some nice t-shirts for £5, and in a 3-for-2 offer, so may well pop back in on Saturday to make real-live purchases. If it comes under my new enjoyment quota, that is.
At home, I've typed up more of the current scene from The Gifting onto the computer. And I know where that part of the book is going now, so that's clarified things for me. Just have to write the ruddy stuff really. Once again, a slower writing day today, but it's - hell - enjoyable.
I've also broken my one last connection with St Peter's; I've cancelled my standing order to them, emailed the church treasurer to tell him this (though I don't expect any reply, as these days it seems that neither church people nor my old university set have the courtesy to answer any of my missives any more. At least not in ways I can understand, bitch bitch!...). In its place, I've sent off a form to give regular payments to the Yvonne Arnaud theatre (http://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk) in Guildford. Well, I've worked out that I get far more enjoyment from the theatre than I do from the church, so what the hell, eh.
This afternoon, I paid Gladys a short visit - she was worrying about dandelions in the garden and a small fallen tree, but has a man coming on Monday to sort it out. I'm always a great approver of men who come to sort things out. A wonderful and dying breed. Sadly. Also, I was incredibly brave (for me) as there was a nasty looking wasp in her living room whilst we were talking, and I managed to (a) not scream and run sobbing from her house, and (b) get rid of it through the window for her. Really, I'm astonished at myself. It's probably my Courage Quota for the month. Maybe even the year. And please God don't let there be the swarms of wasps there were last year - I really can't stand it! It's like being invaded. In my own home too. Damn it.
Ooh, and Flame Books (http://www.flamebooks.com) have joined Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/flamebooks) and sent me a Friends invite. Thanks, Sean! Much appreciated, and welcome to the strange virtual world we all dwell in these days. Sadly though, so far I seem to be Sean's only friend, so I hope his social calendar fills up soon. If Michael had a Myspace profile, I'd send him round at once, of course.
Talking of virtual worlds, I must admit that I have times of getting really fed up with the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) world these days. It is (or it was) a good site, and the Groups are great, but I think the forums are getting way too cumbersome and sometimes downright unfriendly these days. Possibly it might be a victim of its own success, which is a shame. Recently I've found myself trying not to get involved with it quite so much, and I definitely feel far less supported on there than I used to be. There's just too many people, and the personal touch has gone, to my mind. Though I really don't want to leave it entirely, especially as parts of the site are incredibly useful, actually I feel far happier on Myspace, to be honest.
And I've just finished reading Jed Rubenfeld's The Interpretation of Murder. Marvellous novel - a pleasure to read, although I do think it was rather too convoluted, especially towards the end. But that doesn't matter, as the characters are just so hot, and it's got some top-notch one liners. A delight really. Go out and read it before they make the film.
Tonight, I'm planning some more scribbling, and it's Catherine Tate on TV later. Bliss. I love her. We redheads must stick together. I always admire a woman with attitude. Bliss.
Today's nice things:
1. Writing
2. Winning a battle with a wasp - for once
3. The pleasures of Rubenfeld's book.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Amazon review and a better writing day
Was thrilled yesterday to get an email from an old school friend whom I haven't heard from for ages - it really made my evening, and my morning today indeed as she replied to my reply, hurrah! We're currently trying to make a date for catch-up, now we're both over our 2006-ish traumas (God, what a year that was ...), so hope I'll be able to see her soon. Not only that but the thrice-blessed woman has actually gone and ordered my books through Amazon - for which huge thanks indeed. This means that for the first time in a long time my Pink Champagne and Apple Juice (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) Amazon rating has gone up to 5 figures instead of the usual 6, and A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and A Stranger's Table (http://www.poetrymonthly.com) have both received their first rating entirely. Doubt any of them will remain at the 5 figure marker for long though, but it's nice to see for today at least.
And talking of Amazon, Michael has received his first review!! A five-star one at that. My cup indeed runneth over. The link (but be warned - it does carry some spoilers so look away from the next paragraph now if you haven't read it yet!) is: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=sr_1_4/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176304434&sr=8-4 and the actual text is:
“I read this book in two sittings. My first thoughts were God! I wish I felt as passionate about anything as Michael does about his art … 'Fingers, hand, pencil even thought are one ... as the glow burns ... explodes like a shock of water'. The whole time I was thinking this is how a writer feels, an artist feels … For me he became a man obsessed with his need to understand and to try to express the dichotomy existing within him. To understand how to make sense of existing in an alien external world full of darkness and acute, cutting edges so at odds with his gentler sensuous vulnerable interior life. Jack, the urbane, the sophisticated, symbolised all he aspired to. As I read on I felt this was the nub of the real tragedy, a man torn between two such potent desires and that there wasn't going to be an easy answer. But I was totally unprepared for the final part. This novel reaches the height of true tragedy. I couldn't bear for Michael to destroy the man he loved, the gentle, the sensuous, loving part of himself. I found it more grievous to bear than anything I've ever read, at least Othello was torn by motives of jealousy. But the final pages of ADM revealed the horrific dilemma of a young man programmed by his abusive background and in the last resort unable to escape it. I wept for Michael, I wept for the pity of it all. This is a far greater book than the much acclaimed 'Line of Beauty' which lacks the driving energy of your theme. It just has to do well.”
End of Spoiler Alert! And huge thanks to Megsl who gave me that review. I really appreciate it. I'm glad too that you think it's better than Line of Beauty - especially as that was a book I couldn't stand, even though it won the Booker. Lord knows why - a load of twaddle to my mind, and dull twaddle at that. And nothing at all like the 80s. Michael, bless him, wouldn't have got on with any of them.
The rest of my day has been spent scribbling more of the childhood escape scene in The Gifting. It's flowing a lot easier today - again, Lord knows why - and I'm feeling quite enthused about it. So much so that I suspect the scene will be longer than I anticipated at the outset and will take on something of its own life and length. Which is good news for me if that happens as really, m'dears, I don't have a fecking clue most of the ruddy time what I'm supposed to be doing. And also good news for Simon, as it's a key scene which unlocks much of what has happened. Again, I hope. But honestly who can tell? If bloody LOB won the bloody Booker, ye gods, none of us is safe from disappearing up our own arses. And, yes, you can quote me on that.
By the way, did I mention Michael got a five-star review on Amazon?
And I really must say how utterly marvellous last night's final episode of Life on Mars was. It had me gripped all the way through, and the ending was full of wonderful twists and turns which we just soooo right. The final scenes were perfect. In every sense. Which, as I mentioned to Laura on MySpace (http://www.myspace.com/lauracwilkinson) earlier just goes to show that we have every right to kick the buggers who say that TV is not an art form into permanent touch. From last night's viewing (and indeed other programmes) it most certainly is. But, hell, I'm going to miss Sam & Gene and the gang. Pass me the ruddy tissues ...
Speaking of which, there's not a ruddy thing on TV tonight, as far as I can see, so I may have to watch a mindless video (an art form in its own right, surely) or scribble some more of the novel. We'll see.
Oh, and did I say that Michael got a five-star Amazon review? He's really so pleased.
Today's nice things:
1. Michael got a five-star ... hell, you can guess the rest
2. Hearing from my old schoolfriend
3. Having a day when the writing seemed to work - hurrah!
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
And talking of Amazon, Michael has received his first review!! A five-star one at that. My cup indeed runneth over. The link (but be warned - it does carry some spoilers so look away from the next paragraph now if you haven't read it yet!) is: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=sr_1_4/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176304434&sr=8-4 and the actual text is:
“I read this book in two sittings. My first thoughts were God! I wish I felt as passionate about anything as Michael does about his art … 'Fingers, hand, pencil even thought are one ... as the glow burns ... explodes like a shock of water'. The whole time I was thinking this is how a writer feels, an artist feels … For me he became a man obsessed with his need to understand and to try to express the dichotomy existing within him. To understand how to make sense of existing in an alien external world full of darkness and acute, cutting edges so at odds with his gentler sensuous vulnerable interior life. Jack, the urbane, the sophisticated, symbolised all he aspired to. As I read on I felt this was the nub of the real tragedy, a man torn between two such potent desires and that there wasn't going to be an easy answer. But I was totally unprepared for the final part. This novel reaches the height of true tragedy. I couldn't bear for Michael to destroy the man he loved, the gentle, the sensuous, loving part of himself. I found it more grievous to bear than anything I've ever read, at least Othello was torn by motives of jealousy. But the final pages of ADM revealed the horrific dilemma of a young man programmed by his abusive background and in the last resort unable to escape it. I wept for Michael, I wept for the pity of it all. This is a far greater book than the much acclaimed 'Line of Beauty' which lacks the driving energy of your theme. It just has to do well.”
End of Spoiler Alert! And huge thanks to Megsl who gave me that review. I really appreciate it. I'm glad too that you think it's better than Line of Beauty - especially as that was a book I couldn't stand, even though it won the Booker. Lord knows why - a load of twaddle to my mind, and dull twaddle at that. And nothing at all like the 80s. Michael, bless him, wouldn't have got on with any of them.
The rest of my day has been spent scribbling more of the childhood escape scene in The Gifting. It's flowing a lot easier today - again, Lord knows why - and I'm feeling quite enthused about it. So much so that I suspect the scene will be longer than I anticipated at the outset and will take on something of its own life and length. Which is good news for me if that happens as really, m'dears, I don't have a fecking clue most of the ruddy time what I'm supposed to be doing. And also good news for Simon, as it's a key scene which unlocks much of what has happened. Again, I hope. But honestly who can tell? If bloody LOB won the bloody Booker, ye gods, none of us is safe from disappearing up our own arses. And, yes, you can quote me on that.
By the way, did I mention Michael got a five-star review on Amazon?
And I really must say how utterly marvellous last night's final episode of Life on Mars was. It had me gripped all the way through, and the ending was full of wonderful twists and turns which we just soooo right. The final scenes were perfect. In every sense. Which, as I mentioned to Laura on MySpace (http://www.myspace.com/lauracwilkinson) earlier just goes to show that we have every right to kick the buggers who say that TV is not an art form into permanent touch. From last night's viewing (and indeed other programmes) it most certainly is. But, hell, I'm going to miss Sam & Gene and the gang. Pass me the ruddy tissues ...
Speaking of which, there's not a ruddy thing on TV tonight, as far as I can see, so I may have to watch a mindless video (an art form in its own right, surely) or scribble some more of the novel. We'll see.
Oh, and did I say that Michael got a five-star Amazon review? He's really so pleased.
Today's nice things:
1. Michael got a five-star ... hell, you can guess the rest
2. Hearing from my old schoolfriend
3. Having a day when the writing seemed to work - hurrah!
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Slogging away, with a small glass of Champagne
I'm delighted to say that there's now only about one week (give or take) to go before the Pink Champagne and Apple Juice website (http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com) is launched, courtesy of the wonderful Sue Haywood and her equally wonderful husband, Frank (http://www.teafriendsandchocolate.com/sue/). It's not up there yet in all its glory but, having had access to the offline version, I can tell you it's great fun! You'll be able to read about the author (um, that'll be me then ...), the book (still available from http://www.goldenford.co.uk by the way), the characters and indeed which actors might play them best in a film. And I have to say there are some pretty hot people in there - especially in the Philippe section (ooo-err, missus!). Not to mention the ability to make your own choices, download a chapter or two and mix your own cocktail to accompany your reading matter. All good fun, and I'm extremely grateful to Sue & Frank for dreaming it up. Many thanks, both!
The rest of you can of course tell all three of us what you think when the site goes live next week. The (pink) plot thickens ...
And, due to the site launch preparations, I have been discovering how to send large pictures by FTP. At least, I think that's what I've been doing - one can only hope it worked. And it was fun watching it do its stuff, I have to say. I'll be dragged into 21st century technology yet. Just you wait and see.
The rest of the morning was spent struggling round Sainsbury's, attempting to shop sensibly. Goodness, it seems far more expensive than good old Tesco's. And the woman at the till was distinctly stroppy and kept flinging school vouchers over my head to the lady at the next till, as well as throwing my vegetables in all directions. I am now a dab hand at fielding a courgette. Must be the post-Easter return to work crisis. Which thankfully I won't have to face till next Monday, so you're all more than welcome to hate me till then. Ye gods, I would.
I've also been slogging away - and it's been a real slog today; I don't think my creative juices are functioning fully, if at all - on The Gifting. With little result - I've barely moved Simon on from the bed where he was standing when I left him to the door where he is now. Hell, sometimes it's like that. But it's not pleasant. If I can get the poor bloke out into the fresh air by tomorrow, I think I'll be lucky.
Oh, and talking of my menfolk not moving on in their lives, I've sent Maloney's Law out to yet another small publisher yesterday, in the rapidly decreasing hope that someone out there might be interested in Paul. Poor old chap - he's my most feted character in terms of the awards he's won or been placed in, and still no-one will give him the time of day. Which is something of an irony as he is himself a time obsessive and will probably be able to tell you the exact number of minutes between me finishing him in ... um ... 2005 and where we are now. And will no doubt have a double shot of good whisky while doing it. He's just that kind of a guy. Vulnerable, but cute. Just the way I like my literary men. Sigh. Oh and, Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom), if you're reading, Paul's sex scenes may not be as frequent as Michael's, but they are more graphic! Well, he's more direct about himself, so I thought he'd earned it, tee hee.
Tonight, I'm planning to scrawl some more pen over the page in Simon's story - if only to see if I can actually form any words at all - and then everything stops for the last episode of Life on Mars on TV. Oh Lord, but I'm longing to see it and dreading it at the same time. Without it, my Tuesday nights will be empty and meaningless, for sure. I just can't believe that they're not doing any more, but I do admire the ability to stop something when the ending is right. Ah the joy, the pain of being a crime TV addict ...
Today's nice things:
1. Looking through the Pink Champagne website
2. The struggle with The Gifting - somehow!
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
The rest of you can of course tell all three of us what you think when the site goes live next week. The (pink) plot thickens ...
And, due to the site launch preparations, I have been discovering how to send large pictures by FTP. At least, I think that's what I've been doing - one can only hope it worked. And it was fun watching it do its stuff, I have to say. I'll be dragged into 21st century technology yet. Just you wait and see.
The rest of the morning was spent struggling round Sainsbury's, attempting to shop sensibly. Goodness, it seems far more expensive than good old Tesco's. And the woman at the till was distinctly stroppy and kept flinging school vouchers over my head to the lady at the next till, as well as throwing my vegetables in all directions. I am now a dab hand at fielding a courgette. Must be the post-Easter return to work crisis. Which thankfully I won't have to face till next Monday, so you're all more than welcome to hate me till then. Ye gods, I would.
I've also been slogging away - and it's been a real slog today; I don't think my creative juices are functioning fully, if at all - on The Gifting. With little result - I've barely moved Simon on from the bed where he was standing when I left him to the door where he is now. Hell, sometimes it's like that. But it's not pleasant. If I can get the poor bloke out into the fresh air by tomorrow, I think I'll be lucky.
Oh, and talking of my menfolk not moving on in their lives, I've sent Maloney's Law out to yet another small publisher yesterday, in the rapidly decreasing hope that someone out there might be interested in Paul. Poor old chap - he's my most feted character in terms of the awards he's won or been placed in, and still no-one will give him the time of day. Which is something of an irony as he is himself a time obsessive and will probably be able to tell you the exact number of minutes between me finishing him in ... um ... 2005 and where we are now. And will no doubt have a double shot of good whisky while doing it. He's just that kind of a guy. Vulnerable, but cute. Just the way I like my literary men. Sigh. Oh and, Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom), if you're reading, Paul's sex scenes may not be as frequent as Michael's, but they are more graphic! Well, he's more direct about himself, so I thought he'd earned it, tee hee.
Tonight, I'm planning to scrawl some more pen over the page in Simon's story - if only to see if I can actually form any words at all - and then everything stops for the last episode of Life on Mars on TV. Oh Lord, but I'm longing to see it and dreading it at the same time. Without it, my Tuesday nights will be empty and meaningless, for sure. I just can't believe that they're not doing any more, but I do admire the ability to stop something when the ending is right. Ah the joy, the pain of being a crime TV addict ...
Today's nice things:
1. Looking through the Pink Champagne website
2. The struggle with The Gifting - somehow!
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Monday, April 09, 2007
A review, a lot of laziness and some scribbling
Hell, that's what Bank Holidays are for, surely? I've been soooo lazy today that I haven't even been out of the flat, and I've spent a glorious two hours this afternoon napping on the sofa. Bliss. I am well up there for the shortlistings for the Lydia Languish Lethargy Awards. If they make it an Olympic sport, I'm going for Gold.
I've also been much cheered by a very kind and also very balanced review from Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom), the author of the marvellous Standish (available from http://www.amazon.co.uk) and Director of the Erotic Authors Association (http://www.eroticauthorsassociation.com) about A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com), which I reproduce below (as for some reason I can't persuade it to upload to my website at the moment, sigh!):
“It's taken me a day or two to mull over this book, because I wanted to think about how it made me feel. It's unlike anything I've read before, because mainly I've read gay historical stories, other than short stories – and contemporary is kind of beyond my ken. I don't know how the modern gay man in London feels or what the scene is. (Ok I don't know that for 1800 either but then neither does anyone else so that's ok). I enjoyed it. Let me say that at the first. It's well written by someone who obviously knows how to write, who knows how to use the language to describe place with what seems an effortless grace so you always have a sense of your surroundings, whether it be a seedy bar in Hackney, or a graceful house in Islington. You can smell the leather, feel the heavy crystal, feel the grit under your shoes. Michael (don't call me Mikey) is an artist, struggling to make ends meet, and is not averse to a little part-time prostitution to help those ends meet. He lives with Joe and Paul, Joe owns a gallery but won't hang his paintings – Paul knocks money off the rent for a little sexual action. Then one day Michael gets the chance of a commission in a City firm and falls head over heels in love with Jack, his potential new patron. And this is where it all kicks off. The plot moves swiftly on from this point, never leaving the reader bored. It's a first person novel, but although Michael does spend a lot of time in introspection it’s rarely repetitive, not over angsty, and gradually as the book moves on and Michael is "forced" from one position to another, you slowly get the feel that all is not quite well with Michael and the title becomes clear. The choice of first person for this book is very clever, because you don't really get into Michael's head at all- and that's because he doesn't even allow himself in there. Characterisation: Each character is well done, and it's interesting from my point of view that the one character that we don't actually get a full picture of is Paul, but that's probably because Michael has no interest in describing him more fully for us. I particularly liked Jack's family because Jack's mother reminded me very forcibly of my own, with her motherly concern. I also liked the landlord of the pub that Michael pulls tricks in. I was a little annoyed at Michael's inability to work – he's a bit of a sponger – and immediately turns tricks when he needs £500 when it's not explained why he couldn't just get a job. Artistic temperament, I suppose. But he's not meant – or that's how I read it – to be an attractive character. He's an opportunist and he knows what he wants and that's how he gets to be where he is by the end – by reacting to external stimuli and not thinking first. The artistic pieces were particularly well done; Anne Brooke thanks a friend for help with these and I would never have known that Anne wasn't an artist herself, she seems to get right under Michael's skin when he draws – if we can't understand the feeling ourselves, she describes it so well that we feel what he's feeling as he does it. I loved the section when Michael was explaining (to Jack's father) how he draws, and it's totally unintelligible to everyone except Michael. I could just see their blank faces, but to Michael it makes perfect sense. This book could easily have gone the typical romance route, and that's actually what I was expecting, it even lulled me into a false sense of security at one point. But it's not, so don't go looking for happy ever afters. The ending is raw and bleak and wonderful, and I can't say any more really without spoiling it, but there's a lot of room for reader conjecture as to what actually happens – or at least that's how I read it. I ended up, as I'm sure I was supposed to, feeling desperately sorry for Michael, when he'd annoyed me so much throughout. On a personal note, for a contemporary gay story, I would have liked the sex scenes to be more explicit. It was a very grown-up story, and the sex scenes were handled with a fade out or "We made love and it was very good", perhaps not in every scene, as Michael does do it a lot, but I'd have liked some of the (no pun intended) seminal scenes to be more graphically described, particularly as the sexual aspect of Michael's nature is so important to the book. But that's just me and my dirty mind. But all in all a good book. If you are looking for a predictable tale of love, then this isn't for you, but if you like a book that gets under your skin and makes you think long after you've closed the last page, like it has for me, then try “A Dangerous Man”. I'll certainly be looking out for more of Ms Brooke's work.”
Thanks, Erastes! Much appreciated. But I must admit I'm not even going to try for more sex content in my next one - I simply don't have the skills to be an erotic author, I'm afraid. Must be something to do with living in Surrey ...
So, fired up with enthusiasm, I've made a start on Simon's big story-telling scene in The Gifting - not much done, but at least it's a beginning. And, hey, it's a bank holiday so I'm not pushing it. That's tomorrow's job. And I've also done some sudokus and the odd crossword, so my brain is now too tired for anything more.
Tonight, it's sausages, chips 'n' beans, plus beer and ice cream. Oh and we've had chocolate too - so this is the ultimate anti-health zone right now. Though I did do some exercise this morning, plus stare at my Brite Light, so I am keeping flab and depression at bay. Sort of. And later it's a new series of "New Tricks" on tv, so that'll be bliss. Must remember to video the programme on Jackie magazine on the other side though - heck, everything I learnt about life I learnt from that magazine! If only I'd kept all my copies, I'd be worth a fortune now ...
Today's nice things:
1. Erastes' review
2. Writing more of The Gifting
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
I've also been much cheered by a very kind and also very balanced review from Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom), the author of the marvellous Standish (available from http://www.amazon.co.uk) and Director of the Erotic Authors Association (http://www.eroticauthorsassociation.com) about A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com), which I reproduce below (as for some reason I can't persuade it to upload to my website at the moment, sigh!):
“It's taken me a day or two to mull over this book, because I wanted to think about how it made me feel. It's unlike anything I've read before, because mainly I've read gay historical stories, other than short stories – and contemporary is kind of beyond my ken. I don't know how the modern gay man in London feels or what the scene is. (Ok I don't know that for 1800 either but then neither does anyone else so that's ok). I enjoyed it. Let me say that at the first. It's well written by someone who obviously knows how to write, who knows how to use the language to describe place with what seems an effortless grace so you always have a sense of your surroundings, whether it be a seedy bar in Hackney, or a graceful house in Islington. You can smell the leather, feel the heavy crystal, feel the grit under your shoes. Michael (don't call me Mikey) is an artist, struggling to make ends meet, and is not averse to a little part-time prostitution to help those ends meet. He lives with Joe and Paul, Joe owns a gallery but won't hang his paintings – Paul knocks money off the rent for a little sexual action. Then one day Michael gets the chance of a commission in a City firm and falls head over heels in love with Jack, his potential new patron. And this is where it all kicks off. The plot moves swiftly on from this point, never leaving the reader bored. It's a first person novel, but although Michael does spend a lot of time in introspection it’s rarely repetitive, not over angsty, and gradually as the book moves on and Michael is "forced" from one position to another, you slowly get the feel that all is not quite well with Michael and the title becomes clear. The choice of first person for this book is very clever, because you don't really get into Michael's head at all- and that's because he doesn't even allow himself in there. Characterisation: Each character is well done, and it's interesting from my point of view that the one character that we don't actually get a full picture of is Paul, but that's probably because Michael has no interest in describing him more fully for us. I particularly liked Jack's family because Jack's mother reminded me very forcibly of my own, with her motherly concern. I also liked the landlord of the pub that Michael pulls tricks in. I was a little annoyed at Michael's inability to work – he's a bit of a sponger – and immediately turns tricks when he needs £500 when it's not explained why he couldn't just get a job. Artistic temperament, I suppose. But he's not meant – or that's how I read it – to be an attractive character. He's an opportunist and he knows what he wants and that's how he gets to be where he is by the end – by reacting to external stimuli and not thinking first. The artistic pieces were particularly well done; Anne Brooke thanks a friend for help with these and I would never have known that Anne wasn't an artist herself, she seems to get right under Michael's skin when he draws – if we can't understand the feeling ourselves, she describes it so well that we feel what he's feeling as he does it. I loved the section when Michael was explaining (to Jack's father) how he draws, and it's totally unintelligible to everyone except Michael. I could just see their blank faces, but to Michael it makes perfect sense. This book could easily have gone the typical romance route, and that's actually what I was expecting, it even lulled me into a false sense of security at one point. But it's not, so don't go looking for happy ever afters. The ending is raw and bleak and wonderful, and I can't say any more really without spoiling it, but there's a lot of room for reader conjecture as to what actually happens – or at least that's how I read it. I ended up, as I'm sure I was supposed to, feeling desperately sorry for Michael, when he'd annoyed me so much throughout. On a personal note, for a contemporary gay story, I would have liked the sex scenes to be more explicit. It was a very grown-up story, and the sex scenes were handled with a fade out or "We made love and it was very good", perhaps not in every scene, as Michael does do it a lot, but I'd have liked some of the (no pun intended) seminal scenes to be more graphically described, particularly as the sexual aspect of Michael's nature is so important to the book. But that's just me and my dirty mind. But all in all a good book. If you are looking for a predictable tale of love, then this isn't for you, but if you like a book that gets under your skin and makes you think long after you've closed the last page, like it has for me, then try “A Dangerous Man”. I'll certainly be looking out for more of Ms Brooke's work.”
Thanks, Erastes! Much appreciated. But I must admit I'm not even going to try for more sex content in my next one - I simply don't have the skills to be an erotic author, I'm afraid. Must be something to do with living in Surrey ...
So, fired up with enthusiasm, I've made a start on Simon's big story-telling scene in The Gifting - not much done, but at least it's a beginning. And, hey, it's a bank holiday so I'm not pushing it. That's tomorrow's job. And I've also done some sudokus and the odd crossword, so my brain is now too tired for anything more.
Tonight, it's sausages, chips 'n' beans, plus beer and ice cream. Oh and we've had chocolate too - so this is the ultimate anti-health zone right now. Though I did do some exercise this morning, plus stare at my Brite Light, so I am keeping flab and depression at bay. Sort of. And later it's a new series of "New Tricks" on tv, so that'll be bliss. Must remember to video the programme on Jackie magazine on the other side though - heck, everything I learnt about life I learnt from that magazine! If only I'd kept all my copies, I'd be worth a fortune now ...
Today's nice things:
1. Erastes' review
2. Writing more of The Gifting
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Saved by the National Trust
Ye gods, but going to church on Easter Sunday was a bloody mistake. I knew the moment I walked in to be faced by countless hordes of people that I really should have stayed at home and - if my mood felt good and the wind was in the right direction - had a few private moments with God. Instead, I had to run the gauntlet of the service whilst wishing I was as many miles away as possible. God only knows why I felt like that - and please don't ask me to explain it as I don't think I can - but I do.
Maybe the basic fact is I'm not sure I really like - or can trust - any of the people there right now (apart from Lord H of course), and if I can't relate to the church people around me, then it's a zillion times harder under those circumstances to relate to God. Add to that the fact that the service was taken by our old vicar - a fly-by-night non-people person if ever I saw one - and you can imagine the scenario. I think that if the new vicar - Paul - had taken the service then I might even have made it to communion. As it was, I stayed put in the pew as if glued to the ruddy seat - and Lord H stayed with me, which he didn't have to do as I would have been fine if he'd gone up to communion and I hadn't, but his notions of marital loyalty were running high. Which in a way was nice, so far be it from me to complain - except that now I'm convinced that the church believes I'm leading my husband down the primrose path to paganism and sin. (Lord H's response to this: oh goody, when does that start?).
Also, I'm not sure, but does not taking communion at Easter mean I am flung from the church without hope of reprieve? No idea really - and I can't say that right now I'm bothered either way. However, I suspect that I won't be darkening the doors of St Peter's for quite a while now. Make of that what you will. Meanwhile, the call of the Quakers becomes ever more enticing ...
After making good our escape from the arms of the Lord (complete with 2 chocolate eggs for Lord H and me - hell, we bloody well deserve it! - and I ate four more mini ones while I was there), we nipped home for a quick turn-round before heading off to visit the newly-opened National Trust property of Hinton Ampner - in Hampshire.
It was bliss. Bloody hell, but walking round that house, gardens and shop was the most peaceful I've felt for a long time. The weather was perfect, and there weren't many people around. Also the stewards didn't leap up and confront us (National Trust stewards are, unfortunately, rather prone to that kind of behaviour), so we could wander round, stare at stuff and just take the whole thing in. Only the ground floor is open, but it's a marvellously soothing mix of beauty and lived-inness (is that even a word? Hell, you know what I mean). And the gardens were lovely - beautiful views over Hampshire, and the occasional waft of scent. Plus a rather fetching yellow butterfly that followed us around, and a small bird that looked like a linnet, but probably wasn't. And I bought two chocolate mice in the shop (the reliable provision of chocolate mice is one of the NT's many strengths indeed), and a new fluffy pen to add to my work collection. Though, to be honest, it was more curly than fluffy. And vibrantly orange too. Hurrah!
Then home for a late lunch, and an evening watching DVDs, I hope - as there's nothing on TV really, though we might watch some of the golf. And we've also managed to get the cleaning done, and check the car tyres, water etc, as well as make a shopping list, so I am brimming with domestic nobility.
This week, I've done two haikus, as they were both nagging at me, so here they are:
The first for Simon and my attempts to finish The Gifting:
The end of the novel:
Last two scenes to go:
my pen drags over the page,
trailing blood and hope.
And, in response to the very hairy emu at Birdworld yesterday ...
The emu stalks me,
splayed claws poised for the attack:
a thatched roof on legs.
Today's nice things:
1. Hinton Ampner
2. Chocolate mice
3. Lord H.
Happy Easter to all.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Maybe the basic fact is I'm not sure I really like - or can trust - any of the people there right now (apart from Lord H of course), and if I can't relate to the church people around me, then it's a zillion times harder under those circumstances to relate to God. Add to that the fact that the service was taken by our old vicar - a fly-by-night non-people person if ever I saw one - and you can imagine the scenario. I think that if the new vicar - Paul - had taken the service then I might even have made it to communion. As it was, I stayed put in the pew as if glued to the ruddy seat - and Lord H stayed with me, which he didn't have to do as I would have been fine if he'd gone up to communion and I hadn't, but his notions of marital loyalty were running high. Which in a way was nice, so far be it from me to complain - except that now I'm convinced that the church believes I'm leading my husband down the primrose path to paganism and sin. (Lord H's response to this: oh goody, when does that start?).
Also, I'm not sure, but does not taking communion at Easter mean I am flung from the church without hope of reprieve? No idea really - and I can't say that right now I'm bothered either way. However, I suspect that I won't be darkening the doors of St Peter's for quite a while now. Make of that what you will. Meanwhile, the call of the Quakers becomes ever more enticing ...
After making good our escape from the arms of the Lord (complete with 2 chocolate eggs for Lord H and me - hell, we bloody well deserve it! - and I ate four more mini ones while I was there), we nipped home for a quick turn-round before heading off to visit the newly-opened National Trust property of Hinton Ampner - in Hampshire.
It was bliss. Bloody hell, but walking round that house, gardens and shop was the most peaceful I've felt for a long time. The weather was perfect, and there weren't many people around. Also the stewards didn't leap up and confront us (National Trust stewards are, unfortunately, rather prone to that kind of behaviour), so we could wander round, stare at stuff and just take the whole thing in. Only the ground floor is open, but it's a marvellously soothing mix of beauty and lived-inness (is that even a word? Hell, you know what I mean). And the gardens were lovely - beautiful views over Hampshire, and the occasional waft of scent. Plus a rather fetching yellow butterfly that followed us around, and a small bird that looked like a linnet, but probably wasn't. And I bought two chocolate mice in the shop (the reliable provision of chocolate mice is one of the NT's many strengths indeed), and a new fluffy pen to add to my work collection. Though, to be honest, it was more curly than fluffy. And vibrantly orange too. Hurrah!
Then home for a late lunch, and an evening watching DVDs, I hope - as there's nothing on TV really, though we might watch some of the golf. And we've also managed to get the cleaning done, and check the car tyres, water etc, as well as make a shopping list, so I am brimming with domestic nobility.
This week, I've done two haikus, as they were both nagging at me, so here they are:
The first for Simon and my attempts to finish The Gifting:
The end of the novel:
Last two scenes to go:
my pen drags over the page,
trailing blood and hope.
And, in response to the very hairy emu at Birdworld yesterday ...
The emu stalks me,
splayed claws poised for the attack:
a thatched roof on legs.
Today's nice things:
1. Hinton Ampner
2. Chocolate mice
3. Lord H.
Happy Easter to all.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Birds and antiques
Not feeling very well today, I have to say. Seems to be the same, strange sub-flu-ey thing I had a month or so ago. Aches, a deep weariness and something that's not quite a full-blown cold, which comes in waves. Still, at least it's familiar. Or maybe it's the onset of the menopause, and I should expect sweaty nights and long periods of fancying younger men (cue Lord H's cry: how will I tell the difference then?...)? The plot thickens.
Anyway, due to the above we decided to skip going to Blenheim Palace today (which had been our original Easter Saturday plan) - which actually we really have to go to sometime as the last time we were there over thirteen years ago was the last day of our honeymoon and we weren't speaking, which made for an interesting tour. And no, neither of us can remember what the hell that was about - can you ever?!? So, instead, we popped into Birdworld near Farnham and admired pink one-legged flamingoes, hairy emus (which looked like thatched roofs on legs), cute new-born ducks and chicks, and fluffy rabbits. So our Easter duties are thereby fulfilled.
We then decided to pay a brief visit to a local antiques place to continue our five-year hunt for a pair of bedside cabinets (result: failure once more, but we're so used to that by now that if we ever do find something we both like, we won't know what to do about it ...) and have lunch. Which also failed due to the gifted ability of the waitress to completely ignore us, though she did keep apologising for her slowness. After about fifteen minutes of this, we gave up and went home for soup. And Lord H also made an impromptu banana split, so that cheered us both up.
I then spent the rest of the afternoon collapsed in a heap on the sofa (well, dahlings, birds and not getting lunch is soooo exhausting ...), only just surfacing in time for pizza, pink fizz and Dr Who. Which was marvellous - lots of fun with Shakespeare and would-be witches. Bliss.
Tonight, I might watch some of the golf, but I'm planning an early night laced with as much Lemsip as I can carry. And I have absolutely no energy for any writing. Simon, I think, will need more of my guts than I can currently offer for his remaining scenes. Still, he's used to waiting by now.
Today's nice things:
1. Baby birds at Birdworld
2. Napping
3. Dr Who.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Anyway, due to the above we decided to skip going to Blenheim Palace today (which had been our original Easter Saturday plan) - which actually we really have to go to sometime as the last time we were there over thirteen years ago was the last day of our honeymoon and we weren't speaking, which made for an interesting tour. And no, neither of us can remember what the hell that was about - can you ever?!? So, instead, we popped into Birdworld near Farnham and admired pink one-legged flamingoes, hairy emus (which looked like thatched roofs on legs), cute new-born ducks and chicks, and fluffy rabbits. So our Easter duties are thereby fulfilled.
We then decided to pay a brief visit to a local antiques place to continue our five-year hunt for a pair of bedside cabinets (result: failure once more, but we're so used to that by now that if we ever do find something we both like, we won't know what to do about it ...) and have lunch. Which also failed due to the gifted ability of the waitress to completely ignore us, though she did keep apologising for her slowness. After about fifteen minutes of this, we gave up and went home for soup. And Lord H also made an impromptu banana split, so that cheered us both up.
I then spent the rest of the afternoon collapsed in a heap on the sofa (well, dahlings, birds and not getting lunch is soooo exhausting ...), only just surfacing in time for pizza, pink fizz and Dr Who. Which was marvellous - lots of fun with Shakespeare and would-be witches. Bliss.
Tonight, I might watch some of the golf, but I'm planning an early night laced with as much Lemsip as I can carry. And I have absolutely no energy for any writing. Simon, I think, will need more of my guts than I can currently offer for his remaining scenes. Still, he's used to waiting by now.
Today's nice things:
1. Baby birds at Birdworld
2. Napping
3. Dr Who.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Friday, April 06, 2007
Day with Mother, and murderous locals
Argghhh!! Oh, sorry, that just slipped out. Apologies ... But, hey, I've done my Easter mother visit, so I can be Good Daughter for a while. It wasn't so bad actually, bearing in mind that she seemed unable to stop talking even when I was virtually asleep on the sofa and she was promising to be quiet for five minutes. Which gave Lord H the giggles, I must say. Still, I suppose my stepfather is not big on conversation, so I imagine Mother probably has to get all the words out at once. Worryingly, however, Lord H and Mother did seem to be wearing virtually the same colour cords, so I am now concerned that I have actually ended up marrying my mother after all (arrggghhh!!) and in a few years' time, Lord H is going to shrink down to about 4' nothing from his current 6'2". You heard it here first ...
Mother is also still worrying about why I am not yet famous or why none of my books can be found in the normal shops - one would have thought she'd be used to this by now. I fear the days of her being interviewed as the mother of a well-known author will never arrive, which is a shame as she would have been so excited by the thought of a Woman's Hour slot. Ah well.
On the more positive family side, at least she is being distracted by thoughts of my elder nephew's attempts to get to University and whether the Student Loan Company can be persuaded to give him money to do it or whether she needs to sell the family silver (if we had any ...) to finance his no doubt up-and-coming student drug habit. We also discussed whether my cousin's wife's sudden desire to go to Gateshead (oop North for the uninitiated) to study fiddle and folksong for two years is (a) a perfectly sensible means to self-expression, or (b) a cry for help and a sign that all is not well in the family of my aunt. If (b), this would be an aha! moment for my mother, who suffers from having children who can't stand each other, don't talk and are two-thirds divorced (ie I'm the only one of the three who isn't - so far!), whereas up to now my cousins have all been irritatingly perfect, horrendously loving and basically a red-headed version of the Stepford Wives. Never say there is no competition in this family ...
But the best news of my mother visit is that she's rediscovered all my old teenage LPs and I've now brought them home with me - so I have my 70s/80s delights of Chris de Burgh, the Tom Robinson Band, the Carpenters, Abba, Steve Forbert and Meatloaf etc etc clutched in my hot little fingers. My what catholic tastes I had indeed. All I need now is a bloody record player and I'm laughing (though Lord H might well not be ...).
Oh, and we do have some Easter excitement in the Godalming world - after many, many years of having absolutely no news whatsoever in a ten mile radius (best local paper headline in 13 years: "Body found in grave" ...), we now have (a) the murder of a 6 year old boy in the next village (Farncombe), apparently by his father who was then arrested two hours later in north Wales. Which, as Lord H said, begs the question: how the bloody hell did he get to north Wales from Godalming in two hours? What was he doing - riding Black Bess??, and (b) a local psychiatric nurse who has taken to sleeping with patients in tents. Dear me, I didn't realise you could even get that on the National Health these days. I always thought you had to go private for that kind of treatment. I'm obviously going to the wrong doctors.
Anyway, all this murderous/naughty activity definitely stands up to Mother's best local trauma, when a body was found in the local pond and ended up being a drugs murder. Honestly, all those years in rural Essex when I was young and I never even caught a sniff of any drugs. Now they're all at it in between ploughing matches and straw-sucking ... Lucky devils.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I've done another poem, inspired by the RA exhibition:
Charles-Alexandre de Calonne by Elisabeth-Louise Vigée-Lebrun
It’s not the rich crimson damask
of the curtain,
echoed as it is
in the fabric of the chair he chose.
Neither is it the black satin gleam
of his suit,
salted a little at the collar
by the softness of his powdered wig.
Nor is it, I think,
the accoutrements of royal favour
at the table:
the elegant quills; the golden pots;
the letter to the king.
No. It’s something about the glow
of the man’s face,
his relaxed and open posture,
which speaks to me
of gentleness and warmth.
And I sense,
Elisabeth-Louise,
that you might have liked him also,
enjoyed his company for a while
in the painting of him,
allowing your artist’s brushstrokes
to speak to me now,
so many centuries on,
of friendship
and all its surprises.
Today's nice things:
1. Local criminal excitement
2. The not-so-perfect cousins
3. My old records.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Mother is also still worrying about why I am not yet famous or why none of my books can be found in the normal shops - one would have thought she'd be used to this by now. I fear the days of her being interviewed as the mother of a well-known author will never arrive, which is a shame as she would have been so excited by the thought of a Woman's Hour slot. Ah well.
On the more positive family side, at least she is being distracted by thoughts of my elder nephew's attempts to get to University and whether the Student Loan Company can be persuaded to give him money to do it or whether she needs to sell the family silver (if we had any ...) to finance his no doubt up-and-coming student drug habit. We also discussed whether my cousin's wife's sudden desire to go to Gateshead (oop North for the uninitiated) to study fiddle and folksong for two years is (a) a perfectly sensible means to self-expression, or (b) a cry for help and a sign that all is not well in the family of my aunt. If (b), this would be an aha! moment for my mother, who suffers from having children who can't stand each other, don't talk and are two-thirds divorced (ie I'm the only one of the three who isn't - so far!), whereas up to now my cousins have all been irritatingly perfect, horrendously loving and basically a red-headed version of the Stepford Wives. Never say there is no competition in this family ...
But the best news of my mother visit is that she's rediscovered all my old teenage LPs and I've now brought them home with me - so I have my 70s/80s delights of Chris de Burgh, the Tom Robinson Band, the Carpenters, Abba, Steve Forbert and Meatloaf etc etc clutched in my hot little fingers. My what catholic tastes I had indeed. All I need now is a bloody record player and I'm laughing (though Lord H might well not be ...).
Oh, and we do have some Easter excitement in the Godalming world - after many, many years of having absolutely no news whatsoever in a ten mile radius (best local paper headline in 13 years: "Body found in grave" ...), we now have (a) the murder of a 6 year old boy in the next village (Farncombe), apparently by his father who was then arrested two hours later in north Wales. Which, as Lord H said, begs the question: how the bloody hell did he get to north Wales from Godalming in two hours? What was he doing - riding Black Bess??, and (b) a local psychiatric nurse who has taken to sleeping with patients in tents. Dear me, I didn't realise you could even get that on the National Health these days. I always thought you had to go private for that kind of treatment. I'm obviously going to the wrong doctors.
Anyway, all this murderous/naughty activity definitely stands up to Mother's best local trauma, when a body was found in the local pond and ended up being a drugs murder. Honestly, all those years in rural Essex when I was young and I never even caught a sniff of any drugs. Now they're all at it in between ploughing matches and straw-sucking ... Lucky devils.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I've done another poem, inspired by the RA exhibition:
Charles-Alexandre de Calonne by Elisabeth-Louise Vigée-Lebrun
It’s not the rich crimson damask
of the curtain,
echoed as it is
in the fabric of the chair he chose.
Neither is it the black satin gleam
of his suit,
salted a little at the collar
by the softness of his powdered wig.
Nor is it, I think,
the accoutrements of royal favour
at the table:
the elegant quills; the golden pots;
the letter to the king.
No. It’s something about the glow
of the man’s face,
his relaxed and open posture,
which speaks to me
of gentleness and warmth.
And I sense,
Elisabeth-Louise,
that you might have liked him also,
enjoyed his company for a while
in the painting of him,
allowing your artist’s brushstrokes
to speak to me now,
so many centuries on,
of friendship
and all its surprises.
Today's nice things:
1. Local criminal excitement
2. The not-so-perfect cousins
3. My old records.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Michael reaches the Amazon ...
Rather cold-ridden today, I'm afraid, so have been lolling on the sofa with smelling salts pressed to my nose and a wet flannel clutched to my forehead. How charming. I like to think I'm a modern-day Lydia Languish, but fear the true image is more prosaic than that. Ah well. Never put your daughter on the stage.
I was going to do lots of writing, and leap into Godalming to stock up on essential oils and the Surrey Advertiser, not to mention visiting Gladys, but I have done none of the above. Well, I have done some writing, though as the stuff I put into The Gifting balanced more or less with the stuff I took out, the wordcount remains similar, alas. Ha! I've always wanted to use "alas" in a sentence and now I have. Hurrah. That said, I now have Simon almost at the end of his water experiences, which means I only have two big scenes to go and then the first draft is done. Ye gods indeed. The penultimate scene is his final story-telling one, which will be - I hope - the key to everything. I'm not starting it today though. I need a fresh morning for that. And a less snotty nose. But I might well do another poem on art - there's one lurking somewhere in the ether so I'll have to see whether I can entice it out. It'll be something to do while Lord H is at the Maundy Thursday service tonight doing his server duties and keeping the priest in order.
Which brings me to Michael (somehow!) who has finally made it into the clutches of Amazon and can be found here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=sr_1_4/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1175785414&sr=8-4
No cover picture yet, though I have queried this with Flame (http://www.flamebooks.com), and no ratings of course, but at least he's there. So if anyone out there has read A Dangerous Man and feels able to put a few comments up on Amazon at anytime, please feel free to do so! I'd be very grateful (as long as you're not too rude!...). Talking of which, the lovely Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom) has just started reading ADM and has already reached the one night stand scene. Ah, but it becomes so much more ... and glad you're enjoying it, Erastes!
Tonight, I've cancelled my counselling session with Kunu (it was moved from this morning), but I'm glad not to be going anywhere, to be honest. Instead, I'll be watching my video of "Life on Mars" from Tuesday, and working my way through my secret store of Lucozade bottles. Oh, and there's chocolate in the house ... chocolate, hmm ...
Today's nice things:
1. Michael being on Amazon
2. Life on Mars
3. Getting Simon to the start of his two ending scenes.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
I was going to do lots of writing, and leap into Godalming to stock up on essential oils and the Surrey Advertiser, not to mention visiting Gladys, but I have done none of the above. Well, I have done some writing, though as the stuff I put into The Gifting balanced more or less with the stuff I took out, the wordcount remains similar, alas. Ha! I've always wanted to use "alas" in a sentence and now I have. Hurrah. That said, I now have Simon almost at the end of his water experiences, which means I only have two big scenes to go and then the first draft is done. Ye gods indeed. The penultimate scene is his final story-telling one, which will be - I hope - the key to everything. I'm not starting it today though. I need a fresh morning for that. And a less snotty nose. But I might well do another poem on art - there's one lurking somewhere in the ether so I'll have to see whether I can entice it out. It'll be something to do while Lord H is at the Maundy Thursday service tonight doing his server duties and keeping the priest in order.
Which brings me to Michael (somehow!) who has finally made it into the clutches of Amazon and can be found here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dangerous-Man-Anne-Brooke/dp/0954594568/ref=sr_1_4/202-0915331-5590251?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1175785414&sr=8-4
No cover picture yet, though I have queried this with Flame (http://www.flamebooks.com), and no ratings of course, but at least he's there. So if anyone out there has read A Dangerous Man and feels able to put a few comments up on Amazon at anytime, please feel free to do so! I'd be very grateful (as long as you're not too rude!...). Talking of which, the lovely Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom) has just started reading ADM and has already reached the one night stand scene. Ah, but it becomes so much more ... and glad you're enjoying it, Erastes!
Tonight, I've cancelled my counselling session with Kunu (it was moved from this morning), but I'm glad not to be going anywhere, to be honest. Instead, I'll be watching my video of "Life on Mars" from Tuesday, and working my way through my secret store of Lucozade bottles. Oh, and there's chocolate in the house ... chocolate, hmm ...
Today's nice things:
1. Michael being on Amazon
2. Life on Mars
3. Getting Simon to the start of his two ending scenes.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
The squeezed-out conference attender
Well, I'm back from the AUA (http://www.aua.ac.uk) conference up in Nottingham and feel like a squeezed-out sponge. It was well worth going, but these things are always very intensive and it's great to be back.
This isn't going to be a huge blog, I'm afraid (thank God, you all cry!), as I can barely keep my eyes open, and I still have to (a) wash up Lord H's sausage & chips supper (yummy) and (b) unpack. Not to mention the mountain of post to deal with - oh well, there's always tomorrow.
Highlights of the conference: getting an Easter egg as a goodie bag in the second seminar; actually bringing it home unwrapped for Lord H to share with me; having chocolate cheesecake for dinner on the first evening; seeing lambs in the fields next to the M1. Lambs with black legs and white bodies, no less. Ye gods, it must be Easter.
Oh, and a couple of times during the conference I think I almost sounded like a professional. But not for long, I fear.
And I've come back to a lovely review of "A Stranger's Table" (http://www.poetrymonthly.com) by Anna Avebury of the Ver Poets Society, as below:
“In this collection, the poet reveals a striking awareness of the power of poetry to enact a ‘strange sea-change’ on the ‘heated substance’ of the reader. The majority of poems are celebrations of the life of the imagination and the senses, skilfully crafted, timely reminders of an aspect of life all too often neglected. A veritable “Ice Dancer” herself, Anne Brooke communicates ‘the danger, the explosion/of words/into ice’. She explores the inner world of personal relationships with an acute awareness of its complexity and is able to share these insights in poems, which are richly sensuous. Nor does she neglect the mundane: “Calling” describes a fridge door crammed with telephone numbers and messages; although she finds the ‘net of community’ ‘unforgiving’ and ‘beyond our calling.’ “Things I fold away” lists not only the obvious ‘briefs, bras, (into nests) … socks, jumpers …’ but also ‘my history, silences … your disapproval … resentment, irritations …’ And ultimately, ‘life’. The last poem in the collection, “The cat’s response to yellow”, captures the elusive nature of inspiration and its transformation into art, leaving the reader pondering the experience of ‘the echo of yellow air.’”
That's kept the smile well and truly on my face.
Oh, and before I left, I finished the poem on Marat:
The Death of Marat: The Studio of Jacques-Louis David
One pale arm hangs down,
gripping a quill
with which he might have written mercy,
while the other holds the letter
that condemned him,
making the unseen woman
a murderess
and him a martyr.
High upon his body,
almost at the collarbone,
a thin trail of blood
trickles down over white skin
to the bath he ran to soothe it.
His head, wrapped in cream cloth,
rests on the nearest shoulder,
eyes closed in peace,
lips half-smiling
as if only asleep
or dreaming.
In line with the tilt of his face,
the woman’s knife lies
abandoned,
his life’s blood still staining
its ivory handle.
And, above,
only the vast, uncharted dark
hangs waiting.
Today's nice things:
1. Coming home
2. The review
3. Lambs.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
This isn't going to be a huge blog, I'm afraid (thank God, you all cry!), as I can barely keep my eyes open, and I still have to (a) wash up Lord H's sausage & chips supper (yummy) and (b) unpack. Not to mention the mountain of post to deal with - oh well, there's always tomorrow.
Highlights of the conference: getting an Easter egg as a goodie bag in the second seminar; actually bringing it home unwrapped for Lord H to share with me; having chocolate cheesecake for dinner on the first evening; seeing lambs in the fields next to the M1. Lambs with black legs and white bodies, no less. Ye gods, it must be Easter.
Oh, and a couple of times during the conference I think I almost sounded like a professional. But not for long, I fear.
And I've come back to a lovely review of "A Stranger's Table" (http://www.poetrymonthly.com) by Anna Avebury of the Ver Poets Society, as below:
“In this collection, the poet reveals a striking awareness of the power of poetry to enact a ‘strange sea-change’ on the ‘heated substance’ of the reader. The majority of poems are celebrations of the life of the imagination and the senses, skilfully crafted, timely reminders of an aspect of life all too often neglected. A veritable “Ice Dancer” herself, Anne Brooke communicates ‘the danger, the explosion/of words/into ice’. She explores the inner world of personal relationships with an acute awareness of its complexity and is able to share these insights in poems, which are richly sensuous. Nor does she neglect the mundane: “Calling” describes a fridge door crammed with telephone numbers and messages; although she finds the ‘net of community’ ‘unforgiving’ and ‘beyond our calling.’ “Things I fold away” lists not only the obvious ‘briefs, bras, (into nests) … socks, jumpers …’ but also ‘my history, silences … your disapproval … resentment, irritations …’ And ultimately, ‘life’. The last poem in the collection, “The cat’s response to yellow”, captures the elusive nature of inspiration and its transformation into art, leaving the reader pondering the experience of ‘the echo of yellow air.’”
That's kept the smile well and truly on my face.
Oh, and before I left, I finished the poem on Marat:
The Death of Marat: The Studio of Jacques-Louis David
One pale arm hangs down,
gripping a quill
with which he might have written mercy,
while the other holds the letter
that condemned him,
making the unseen woman
a murderess
and him a martyr.
High upon his body,
almost at the collarbone,
a thin trail of blood
trickles down over white skin
to the bath he ran to soothe it.
His head, wrapped in cream cloth,
rests on the nearest shoulder,
eyes closed in peace,
lips half-smiling
as if only asleep
or dreaming.
In line with the tilt of his face,
the woman’s knife lies
abandoned,
his life’s blood still staining
its ivory handle.
And, above,
only the vast, uncharted dark
hangs waiting.
Today's nice things:
1. Coming home
2. The review
3. Lambs.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Golf & some small successes
Some good news this morning - the Bird and Moon 55 word website (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/) has nominated my 55-word fiction, "When the phone rang", for their Readers' Choice category awards, and you can find the story here:
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/readerschoice.html
under the February category. If you like it, please vote by 20 April! Many thanks! It's nice being shortlisted for a Readers' Choice in anything - a first for me indeed.
And I see also that the Momtazi website (http://www.momtazi.com) has now published my poem, "One small song", in their writers' gallery section, and you can find it here: http://www.momtazi.com/Gallery/index.php?do=poem&action=cat&cat=3. Heck, that feels nice too!
This morning has also been marked by a lazy lie-in and our complete non-attendance at the Palm Sunday service. Hell, I don't feel guilty at all. Which, I suppose, must be progress of a sort. I'm still intending to grace the church doors with my presence next week at Easter though - so I hope nobody keels over with the shock.
The majority of the day has been spent playing a wonderful round of golf with Marian & Siegi - though Siegi can't play very much at the moment due to recovering from a recent shoulder operation, though he did manage a few shots on the walk round with us. But we were not too bad at all, especially off the tee. Though I seem to have perfected my trick putting shot of going round the hole a couple of times before actually dropping in. Now if only I could work out how I'm actually achieving that, I could probably make a fortune. Hey ho. Lunch at Marian's was also very pleasant - and I've also been very brave (pause for astonished gasps and the odd cheer) as when the subject of church came up (which it sometimes does in their company though they're not church-goers), I admitted that I'm having something of a break from it. Lord, but I felt brave - it's quite rare for me to tell the truth when a social lie would be so much easier. Maybe I'm discovering a personal morality at last? Goodness, but my mother will be pleased. Anyway, we had a short discussion about it, and they were surprised but sweet, so I've lived to tell the tale. Phew.
Tonight, I'll have to finish packing for my three day conference in Nottingham next week (Monday to Wednesday) and then I have a slump in front of "Persuasion" on TV planned. It's my favourite Austen novel, I think, so they'd better do it well. It's got some hot boy chick (whose name I have forgotten - Rupert Somebody or Other? - but I can't be arsed to get off my ... um ... arse and check it out, sorry) in the role of her long-lost lover, so if I don't like the production at least I can admire the totty. Hurrah.
If I get a moment, I might well also start scribbling a poem about one of the paintings I saw at the Royal Academy exhibition on Friday, as I can feel the ideas quivering under my skin (yes, it's weird, I know but it's the closest description I can find to how I feel ...), but I doubt I'll finish it tonight. Which will be irritating as I usually like to finish a poem on the day I start it, or I get twitchy. Gosh, that's me well and truly out of my poetry writing closet, isn't it? Usually, when the poets I go to listen to start talking about how many weeks they've spent on their verses, I nod wisely and look sympathetic - but to be honest I haven't a fecking clue what they're talking about. If I haven't finished a first draft in an hour and polished it enough for public comment and advice after another hour, then I lose the will to live. I may well change stuff around later, of course, depending on comments received and my own instincts, but it's really only fiddling. Get 'em out, get 'em written, get 'em filed is what I say. As you can see, I have many hidden poetic shallows ...
Talking of which, here's this week's haiku (which I suspect is more of a thought I'll expand on into a larger poem later, so just call it a marker poem):
The Death of Marat:
One pale arm hangs down,
eyes contemplate peace while
the bloodied bath grows still.
Oh, and as I'll be away from Monday to Wednesday, I won't be blogging till Wednesday night, but I hope the start of all your weeks is as good as possible!
Today's nice things:
1. Being in the running for a Readers' Choice
2. Online publication of a poem
3. Golf.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/readerschoice.html
under the February category. If you like it, please vote by 20 April! Many thanks! It's nice being shortlisted for a Readers' Choice in anything - a first for me indeed.
And I see also that the Momtazi website (http://www.momtazi.com) has now published my poem, "One small song", in their writers' gallery section, and you can find it here: http://www.momtazi.com/Gallery/index.php?do=poem&action=cat&cat=3. Heck, that feels nice too!
This morning has also been marked by a lazy lie-in and our complete non-attendance at the Palm Sunday service. Hell, I don't feel guilty at all. Which, I suppose, must be progress of a sort. I'm still intending to grace the church doors with my presence next week at Easter though - so I hope nobody keels over with the shock.
The majority of the day has been spent playing a wonderful round of golf with Marian & Siegi - though Siegi can't play very much at the moment due to recovering from a recent shoulder operation, though he did manage a few shots on the walk round with us. But we were not too bad at all, especially off the tee. Though I seem to have perfected my trick putting shot of going round the hole a couple of times before actually dropping in. Now if only I could work out how I'm actually achieving that, I could probably make a fortune. Hey ho. Lunch at Marian's was also very pleasant - and I've also been very brave (pause for astonished gasps and the odd cheer) as when the subject of church came up (which it sometimes does in their company though they're not church-goers), I admitted that I'm having something of a break from it. Lord, but I felt brave - it's quite rare for me to tell the truth when a social lie would be so much easier. Maybe I'm discovering a personal morality at last? Goodness, but my mother will be pleased. Anyway, we had a short discussion about it, and they were surprised but sweet, so I've lived to tell the tale. Phew.
Tonight, I'll have to finish packing for my three day conference in Nottingham next week (Monday to Wednesday) and then I have a slump in front of "Persuasion" on TV planned. It's my favourite Austen novel, I think, so they'd better do it well. It's got some hot boy chick (whose name I have forgotten - Rupert Somebody or Other? - but I can't be arsed to get off my ... um ... arse and check it out, sorry) in the role of her long-lost lover, so if I don't like the production at least I can admire the totty. Hurrah.
If I get a moment, I might well also start scribbling a poem about one of the paintings I saw at the Royal Academy exhibition on Friday, as I can feel the ideas quivering under my skin (yes, it's weird, I know but it's the closest description I can find to how I feel ...), but I doubt I'll finish it tonight. Which will be irritating as I usually like to finish a poem on the day I start it, or I get twitchy. Gosh, that's me well and truly out of my poetry writing closet, isn't it? Usually, when the poets I go to listen to start talking about how many weeks they've spent on their verses, I nod wisely and look sympathetic - but to be honest I haven't a fecking clue what they're talking about. If I haven't finished a first draft in an hour and polished it enough for public comment and advice after another hour, then I lose the will to live. I may well change stuff around later, of course, depending on comments received and my own instincts, but it's really only fiddling. Get 'em out, get 'em written, get 'em filed is what I say. As you can see, I have many hidden poetic shallows ...
Talking of which, here's this week's haiku (which I suspect is more of a thought I'll expand on into a larger poem later, so just call it a marker poem):
The Death of Marat:
One pale arm hangs down,
eyes contemplate peace while
the bloodied bath grows still.
Oh, and as I'll be away from Monday to Wednesday, I won't be blogging till Wednesday night, but I hope the start of all your weeks is as good as possible!
Today's nice things:
1. Being in the running for a Readers' Choice
2. Online publication of a poem
3. Golf.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
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