Surreal thoughts on death and other matters

Well, it's finally happened and Gladys died yesterday. An event waiting to happen for a long, long time, in my opinion. More shocking to note, possibly, is that all I can feel about it is a mild relief and the thought that I won't have to schedule in my weekly twenty minute silent visit to her any more. Which, I have to say, is more than anything a scathing revelation of my sadly lacking sense of humanity. I've been told already by well-meaning friends what a shame it was for "poor Gladys". Yes, well, it's a pitiful end to a life - I don't think dying in a nursing home in the grip of a terrible depression is anyone's idea of a good ending - but I have to say I'm glad it's over. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't.

What's focusing my mind most of all is (a) the nagging worry that in forty years' time (assuming I get that long), it's going to be me. Well, like Gladys, I'm child-free from choice and with very distant family - though in my case that's emotionally and not necessarily geographically. Frankly, I can't imagine anything worse than dying with my blood relatives around me. God forbid. I haven't been that greatly impressed with the sum of them during life, so what on earth would I want with them in the dying process? Oh, and (b) no matter how much I try to reassure myself from a Christian perspective, I have to admit I'm not at all enamoured of the thought of the afterlife. Really, I just don't want to go there. I don't like change and Heaven, should it exist, seems crowded with people - two of my worse-case scenarios indeed. I'd far rather - if I have to think about death at all - be somewhere nice and quiet with Lord H and not have to worry about anyone else. That would be Heaven indeed. Much like being at home then.

Anyway, things I remember best about Gladys and I think are important to note, both bad and good, are: (a) I have to admit I didn't like her that much, though in some respects I admired her and was also, at times, sorry for her; (b) she could be quite cutting about aspects of my appearance (never great at the best of times) when she wanted to be (hence the (a) note); (c) she and her late husband Charlie stole the frogspawn from their landlord's garden when they left the flat they were in to move to Godalming, and I thought that was hellishly stylish - it always made me smile; (d) she and Charlie used to go on a lot of serious walking holidays all over Europe when they were young and once had a sing-song with Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears on a cruise ship round the ship's piano. Totally magical indeed. Oh, and (e) she generally disliked children - which, naturally, I thought was wonderful.

Anne

GLBT Rainbow fiction award

Just a quick note to say that, much to my astonishment, The Bones of Summer is a Jury's Choice finalist in the Mystery/Thriller section of the new GLBT fiction Rainbow awards and you can see me on the list here.

Well, gosh, eh! That's certainly put a smile on this screwed-up, mood-swing obsessed author's face ...

I've also managed to complete my latest GLBT short story, Airheads and Angels, and send it off to Dreamspinner Press for consideration for their upcoming A Brush of Wings anthology. Unusually, it's a comedy. I'd almost forgotten I could even do comedy. And heck, I know I'm hugely early with submissions, but that's what a secretarial background does for you. Hey ho.

Anne

Amber Quill author and a hundred uses for a milk frother

I'm very happy to say that my GLBT erotic short story, A Stranger's Touch, has been accepted for publication by Amber Quill Press, and is lined up in their schedules for next January or February, at the moment of typing. I'm hugely pleased to be a new member of the Amber Quill team, as it's so nice to have another avenue for submissions, and also lovely to get that particular story out there. It's one I'm actually quite happy with.

Other exciting news for today is that I have a brand-new milk frother, which (hurrah! hurrah!) gives me access to cappuccinos whenever I want them. And ... um ... looks fairly rude too, I have to say. Do I feel another story idea coming on?? God forbid ...



Anne Brooke

New Champers cover

Here's a sneak preview of the new Pink Champagne and Apple Juice cover:



I hope you like it. I certainly do. Huge thanks to artist Penelope Cline who created it, as she also created the covers for A Dangerous Man and Thorn in the Flesh. So a very talented woman indeed!

Anne Brooke

India 2010 Charity Biking Event

A couple of our local Surrey businessmen are strapping their leathers on (oo-err, missus ...) and biking in India in order to raise money for charity. You can find out more about the whole enterprise here, and you can also see what Flavia of Strictly Come Dancing has donated to the 12 November Charity Auction! Will she be able to dance again, I wonder?...

Anne

New historical fiction: A Small Betrayal

Just popping in to say that the first edition of new historical fiction journal, Lacuna, includes my story A Small Betrayal.

I do hope you enjoy the read.

On a personal note, I think I'm slowly getting back to something approaching normal (ho ho) after the horrors of early October, but I'm attempting to take it easy (as if ...).

Hope all well with everyone in the virtual world!

Anne

Taking a break ...

A quick blog tonight to say that I'm taking a short break from blogging. Well, it's been very busy, and the year so far has been sometimes great and sometimes very difficult, so I thought I deserved a rest!

Hope you all continue well, and will catch up with you later.

Anne's Website

Information Point revisited

Up early again today as we were staffing the last Information Point for the morning as it’s the first day of term. Lots of confusion about timetables, where rooms were and also where people could get water. It’s a good question. To be honest, I didn’t feel that good, and was rather overwhelmed and shaky with it all. I’m not sure I was coping as well as last week really – the adrenalin wasn’t seeing me through, and it all felt rather hopeless and exhausting.

I was also looking forward to a much-needed reflexology appointment at lunchtime, but poor Emily’s car broke down so we’ve rearranged for next week. I just worked through lunch instead – dealing with the 53 emails in my inbox since Thursday and finally (at last!) getting the first draft of the minutes out for a meeting I had on 9 September. Which must surely be the longest ever time between a meeting and its corresponding notes. At least in Anne's World.

Still, I felt I managed to sort out some actual student queries, including taking two lovely students down to the Security office for their car permits as they’d been sent all round the houses and had been wandering about for hours, poor things. I think if I’d simply pointed and sent them away again, they might well have torn me limb from limb, and who can blame them? Thankfully, they’re now on their way to getting a permit, hurrah. And were smiling when I left them. My job here is done, Carruthers …

And now we’re also plunging into the arrangements for the poetry reading event on 27 October with Charles Christian (hello, Charles!), so I must remember to get my Literature Head on at some point. Hopefully soon. Oh, and book a restaurant for that evening – provided that the English Department can work out how many people will be going, that is. Apart from me and Charles. In which case my advice is: Run, Charles, run for the hills …

Tonight, I’m shopping at Tesco so will miss Claudia on It Takes Two, groan. (Update: Lord H videoed it for me - what a hero!). And I’m hoping to see yesterday’s video of Part One of Emma at some point. Lordy, but I deserve it. I’m not sure I’m up to any editing though. Not tonight. Oh and I've cancelled a social arrangement with Pauline on Sunday as I'm doing the Open Day on Saturday and I just need to not see anyone for a day (sorry, Pauline ...) - hope to reschedule soon.

Today’s nice things:

1. Making two students happy (Lordy, but I’m good)
2. Still having a Literature Head at all, after last week
3. TV.

Anne's Website
Sexy Scavengers Book Competition

Church, chilling and Champers

Here's today's poem:

Meditation 232

There’s an awful lot
of travel
in the early church

so it’s obvious
that sainthood
would never have suited me

at all.


Church today was okay - quite a good sermon about relationships really - but we had one of those horrid dirge-like hymns I can't stand for the third hymn. Groan. Way too many verses in "Lord Jesus Christ, You have come to us" for my liking and there's no plotline to it, Carruthers. Dull, dull, dull - as Craig Revel-Horwood would say. Mind you, I had fun watching the server attempting to subtly fish a fly out of the communion cup with his special holy napkin before we all queued up for the extra protein today. Never mind swine flu - what about fly flu, eh? When it was my turn, I made a quick inspection to see if it was still there and took a sip between terrifyingly closed lips just in case. Ah, the pains and perils of church indeed. Talking of which, I have cracked and put Lord H's and my names down for coffee rota duties towards the end of November. I hope it won't be the slippery slope of commitment. Lord knows I don't want to go there again. Though I'm determined to start the Cake Wars - our cake offering will have to set a new standard that the following rota person won't be able to keep up with, and then with any luck they won't ask us again. Aha!

Oh and further communion confusion has sadly arisen as our female vicar decided to say everyone's names while giving us the bread today. Now, the First Thing they should teach you in Vicar School is never to do that, as a terrible error will no doubt ensue. Which it did - as the server who was following on with the wine (plus dead fly ...) didn't quite hear what she called Lord H and so decided to say in ringing tones, "The Blood of Christ, Peter" when Lord H came to the wine. Lord H (whose name isn't Peter, by the way) wonders if he is now taking communion on behalf of another person called Peter along the lines of ancient orthodox tradition, or if he is simply doomed always to be known as Peter in this particular church. He's also wondering whether he should take Mexican nationality and change his name to Jesus, because then the server could say with confidence and some theological accuracy, "The Blood of Christ, Jesus". Ah, decisions, decisions. Really, I'd much rather be known as Algernon and Fatima, as I've always wanted to hear the words, "The Blood of Christ, Fatima" said in church. Alas, I may have to wait some time.

Meanwhile, I'm getting on with the edits for The Hit List, which is turning out to be more strongly romantic and with less described sex than I'd anticipated. Something of a surprise then, but I have to do what the characters say and they know best. If only I'd listened to them both in the first place, The Hit List might have been rather better rather sooner. Still, at least there's some hope now that I'll get it to where I want it to be. One day.

I've also asked the lovely Penelope Cline for a new cover for Pink Champagne and Apple Juice in preparation for self-publishing it in paperback via Lulu. Penelope did the fantastic covers for A Dangerous Man and Thorn in the Flesh - so I'm very much looking forward to seeing what she will come up with. Thanks, Penelope!

Finally on the book front, I'm pleased to say that The Bones of Summer appears in the lists for the new Rainbow Awards for Mystery/Thriller Fiction - under List 4, and might even have garnered one or two votes already - so thank you for that indeed! There are some good books there so do pop along and have a browse. You can even add your own choices if you can't find anything you like.

Tonight, I'll be videoing the first part of Emma on TV, as there's something on about Pompeii on the other side, so we really must watch that. Ooh, and I caught up with a double bill of Ugly Betty this afternoon, hurrah! Here's this week's haiku:

Trio of balloons
sets the sky afloat: blue-grey
messengers of dusk.


Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Church
3. Editing The Hit List
4. New Champers cover
5. The Bones of Summer award listing
6. TV
7. Haikus.

Anne's website
Sexy Scavengers October book competition

On the trail of the glossy ibis ...

Up at the crack of dawn today (lucky dawn ...) as Lord H and I were on the trail of the glossy ibis. Five of which had been spotted during the week in Dungeness RSPB reserve. We didn't manage to spot any at first, though we were compensated somewhat by a marsh harrier, black-tailed godwits and sanderlings, as well as a host of coots. Towards the end of our day, Lord H checked his iphone and apparently the ibises were being seen at the hide we'd first been into. So we hot-footed it back and were just in time to see them before they flew off. Caught in the nick of time, eh. We then attempted to follow them but the views we had the second time were much more distant. Here's a lovely view of one of them anyway. Ain't that just gorgeous?

Back home, we are preparing ourselves for the delights of Strictly Come Dancing, and I can't wait (sadly ...) for tonight's show. Ah, the glitter and the glam - we Essex Gals just can't get enough of that sort of thing.

On literary matters though, I was pleased to see that A Dangerous Man had a brief flurry of interest earlier this morning at Amazon UK and was low down in the GLBT bestsellers stakes for a while - which I think meant someone bought a copy. So thank you hugely, Mr/Ms Someone, and I do hope you enjoy the read. Since then, however, I've drifted back to the bottom of the barrel again - in oh so many ways.

I've also had a lovely email from a lady called Denise from the Philippines (hello, Denise!) saying she's been interested in my books since reading the reviews of Maloney's Law, and has now bought The Bones of Summer in eBook version, and hopes to buy the eBook of Thorn in the Flesh soon. Thanks so much, Denise - that's really made my day. Interestingly, however (and actually I'm beginning to get several similar requests from a variety of sources), she was keen for Maloney's Law and A Dangerous Man to be out in eBook as it's easier to read them in that format where she lives. I'm certainly keen for both these books to be electronically available too, and am working on it as best I can, with the help of one of my publishers. Watch this space ...

Today's nice things:

1. Birds
2. Glossy ibises
3. TV
4. Readers interested in my books - thank you!

Anne Brooke
Sexy Scavengers competition Day Three

Golf, haircuts and Hit Lists

Is it Friday already? Well golly gosh indeed. Here's today's poem:

Meditation 231

While one man
betrays his town

to a bloody death,
another is lowered

from a city wall
in a basket

and creeps away
into night.

Perhaps it’s better
to be a woman after all.


Managed to play some pretty dire golf again today, but thankfully it wasn't as bad as last week. If I could only try to remember to hit the ball with the clubhead rather than with that funny sticky thing, I think everything would be a damn sight better. Ho hum. Mind you, both Marian and I ended on a rather triumphant par, so honour was satisfied. Partially.

And there's good news on the hair length front: my hairdresser has been trying to get my hair to be the same length all the way round rather than in layers for months and months and today we feel we've finally arrived at those dizzy heights, hurrah! Right now, I look quite presentable, though I fear it will not last. Experience dictates this ...

Meanwhile, I attempted to release some of the tension I've gathered during the week at my Alexander Technique lesson - really, I do make the tutor work for the wages. This week coming I have to focus on having a floaty head and breathing with my back. Ye gods, anything could happen, but it makes some sort of sense. Honest.

And I've been busy with the edits to The Hit List. And still enjoying it too. It's odd how that novel has been the one I hate to remember, but when I actually look at it seriously it's not that bad. Yes, I need to kick the crime section into touch, and bring out the romance which is, in my opinion, what the book is really about - but in some ways it feels as if it's always been there. Waiting for me to get down to this edit, I suppose. Maybe I just didn't have the confidence before.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Golf
3. Haircuts
4. Alexander Technique
5. Editing The Hit List.

Anne Brooke
Sexy Scavengers Competition - book prizes galore!

Salt, Gold and Sexy Scavengers

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



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

Meditation 230

Sometimes blindness
leads to sight

and palm trees
to iron chariots.

Everything that is
contains its opposite

twin and is as fluid
as the ungraspable air.


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

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

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

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

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

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

Today's nice things:

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

Anne Brooke
Sexy Scavengers - the place to be

Freshers' Week Day Three

Shattered today, and I can't really form a reasonable sentence, so here are today's notable things in no noticeable order:

1. It was busier at the Information Point than yesterday, but not as busy as Monday (thank the Lord)
2. I should have got to bed earlier last night and I would have coped better
3. One of the students thought the Students' Union event planner was a boardgame - but he might have an idea there. Why isn't it a boardgame?
4. Halfway through the day, some of the female dance students (at least one assumes it was them ...) began to walk in very peculiar ways in very high heels in front of us. Presumably as part of their training? It was ever so slightly spooky ... Are we in the Twilight Zone?
5. We shut up shop early afternoon as Freshers' Fayre was on and nobody was interested in facts any more
6. The boss bought chocolate cake and Ruth made chocolate brownies for an afternoon party
7. The campus water supply went terribly terribly wrong and there was no water for most of the afternoon. At all.
8. One of my postgraduate talk presenters didn't turn up to a talk I'd scheduled for them as they "hadn't realised it was important". Gaarrgghh. The PG department concerned wasn't happy, understandably. I was upset as that particular department is very nice and we let them down. Groan.
9. The boss has had a promotion (well done hugely, David!) and is now Director of Student Care Services, rather than just Head of same. We are all therefore more important by proxy, hurrah. Well, one can hope, eh ...
10. I was so tired that I fell asleep the moment I got home and am now feeling extremely disorientated.
11. I'm glad my Freshers' Week is over, but I think we've done some worthwhile work.
12. I'm feeling disheartened by writing, but same old, same old, really.

Anne Brooke

Day Two of Freshers' Week

Slightly better today, though still busy, and questions asked at my Information Point table tended to come in waves rather than full on as yesterday. I even managed to get back to the office for an hour during the day to catch up with email, while my team of voluntary staff held the fort which was good. And the day was shorter too - in at 8.15am and ending at 5.30pm, hurrah.

Also am more able to carry on conversations with people who aren't students today as well - I had so many Fresher questions yesterday that the ability to communicate with or even think about anyone else utterly left me. Ruth found the same on her Information Point table too (in another building). Plus I fitted in two Starbucks runs for my little team, so that cheered us all greatly.

Today there were lots and lots of questions about where the University Hall was (where registration takes place) and also where the big Lecture Theatre was (known as the Griffiths Theatre), as there was a lot going on there today. I felt like an air stewardess saying over and over again (whilst pointing): to get to the University Hall, you go here, then here and then here, or to get to the Griffiths Theatre you go here and here. In case of difficulty, your oxygen masks will fall from the ceiling. Try to breathe normally. No, I didn't actually say that last one. Honest. After a while, those of us behind the IP table got into a routine of pointing and chanting, depending on which direction people wanted, and at one stage I got a wave of hysteria and collapsed into giggles whilst pointing. I think the student got the message though as they headed off in the right direction. Phew.

At home, I was explaining that my whole day had basically consisted of lots of smiling and saying: Turn left for the University Hall; right for the Griffiths Theatre; turn right for the Griffiths Theatre; turn left for the University Hall; turn right into the Griffiths Hall; don't be left behind in the University Theatre; have you found the Theatre Hall?; keep an eye out for the University Griffin. And so on and so on. Lord H suggested that I should have added: when you return to your room, the University Griffin will be waiting for you. Prepare to die. But I feel he might not have fully grasped the niceties of customer service. Ah well.

Anyway, it's good to be home. I popped in to see Gladys on the way but she was very tired, so I just sat with her for a while. Managed to catch It Takes Two with Claudia on TV, which makes me feel as if I'm more into a normal routine again, hurrah. And later on it's The Fixer. I might just manage to keep awake for it. You never know.

Today's nice things:

1. Two Starbucks runs
2. Air stewardess training
3. The unexpected birth of the University Griffin
4. TV.

Anne Brooke - feeling more human today
Thorn in the Flesh - for the darker secrets of University staff ...

Freshers' Week Day One

Garrrggghhh.

Up at 6am. In office at 7.45am. At Information Point from 8am. 5 minute lunch. Packed up at 4.15pm. Back to office. Worked on admin until 6.15pm. Shattered.

That's it really.

Anne Brooke - the one with no brain left
The Bones of Summer - about two men who didn't go to University (phew!)

Wisley, sculpture and chilling

Am making the most of the day before the onslaught of Freshers' Week next week. Honestly it's been really great today that I haven't had to talk to anyone apart from Lord H. Bliss. Here's today's poem:

Meditation 229

Water and prayer
quench the dry land’s thirst

and wash sin away.
If only

you could bottle both.


So we've had a delightful amble through the joys of Wisley, which included the excitements of the Sculpture Trail that was today's special event. I particularly thrilled to the glorious sculpture of different sized fish on bicycles. Called Cycling School, it was utterly delightful and a work of genius perfectly placed. Wonderful. Here's a link to a photograph of it. Ain't that magical?... And here's a link to the sculptor - some fabulous pieces there too. Anyway, we had lunch out at the Wisley cafe, which was very pleasant though it did appear that the staff were on a go-slow in terms of collecting up dirty plates. We suspect the scary manager isn't on today - every other time we've been there, the clearing up has been astonishingly good and the moment a table is vacated, it's cleared and wiped down for the next people. As it should be really. Today, the system was something of a mess. Ah well.

This afternoon, I've had a much-needed nap - heck, I need all the strength I can get for the week to come, I fear. Later, we'll be looking at holidays (hurrah!) and I'll probably do some more editing to The Hit List. Robert is looking sultry and mysterious. Always get your characters to play to their strengths, eh. And there's sod-all on TV, sigh.

I've also enjoyed Mary Beard's Pompeii, which is a non-fiction study of that tragic town. Very interesting indeed, though I did feel it was rather too heavy in places. But a highly useful manual if you're intending to visit, which we are, at some point.

Here's this week's rather sparse haiku:

Nothing in my head
this week is worth the paper
I scribble it on.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Wisley
3. Sculptures
4. Napping
5. Editing The Hit List
6. Books
7. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - something of a fish on a bicycle herself
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice - ideal Sunday drinking

Condescending publishers and Freshers galore

Goodness me, but what an exhausting and severely draining day. Here's today's poem though, which I just had time for this morning:

Meditation 228

Offering money
for the gift of salvation

is lambasted
to oblivion

by the sainted
Peter and John

but has in fact
been in common use

for centuries since
in the church.


Really, the more I do these meditation poems, the more cynical I become, I fear. Church is all too debilitating these days. One wonders what it's all for.

Anyway, I've been severely peed off by some pesky small-time publisher who emailed me to say, in a very high-handed and condescending tone, how extremely hard to read The Gifting is but of course they were sure I would find someone to take it on one day. Ignorant t*****s. They're obviously unable to read words of more than one syllable anyway, so no wonder nobody's heard of them. And I would like to advise all publishers here and now that if they do reject a piece of work, then the sentence they need to send out is simply: Thank you, but this does not fit our lists. Really, that's all they need to say - any other ridiculous and ill-thought out statement is likely only to cause offence. And it keeps the syllables down to only one per word, which is surely doable for most of them ... One would hope.

For a large part of the day, I have been smiling and smiling like a villain while we greet Freshers onto campus and settle them into their rooms. Not a job for which I am remotely suited, but I think I managed to fool them into thinking I was a nice normal human being, rather than a severely pissed-off furious and failing would-be fantasy writer whose books no publisher will apparently touch with a proverbial bargepole. Whilst sending snippety emails and putting the boot in at the same time. And on the whole my smile remained mostly on. Which is a bloody miracle indeed.

But, Lordy, our new students think they've got problems. Really, they have no idea how very lucky they are - must be great to be at the very beginning of one's career and have it still all to play for. Rather than being somewhere in the middle of life, with mid-life droop and have really not much to play for at all - and what little there is, so few people seem to actually want. Which is what it feels like, precisely here and precisely now. I can guarantee to you that in twenty years' time, I'll still be in the same literary position I am in today: that is, struggling along at the bottom, being told by well-meaning and of course totally lovely people that I have to keep going, but selling no more than 50-100 or so copies of each book (not counting the poetry books, where I sell about 10 and then give the rest away). Honestly, sometimes this business is like being back at primary school - I don't think there's anything wrong with me and indeed I'm no worse than anyone else (as my new strapline says!), but still nobody wants to be friends. It's a mystery. I do think the sense of hope I had nine years ago when I first started writing fiction is all but vanquished. Cynicism reigns supreme. And maybe indeed the solution is not to try so hard? I do think that my decision to go back to the self-publishing process is definitely the best way forward - I'm much happier, mental health-wise, if I don't even have to enter the submissions arena at all. Yes, I will try with the small GLBT press as and when I produce GLBT fiction, but for the rest, I simply don't want to put myself through the horror and terrible depression of it all. Publishing is not in any sense of the phrase a pleasant business: I don't think I could ever encourage anyone now to try to be a professional writer - it's like suggesting that they walk through fire in order to reach a distant and probably imaginary oasis. Probably not worth the burning.

Oh, but I must say that halfway through my "smiling at Freshers and being nice when I just feel like weeping" ordeal, Lord H turned up with two Starbucks cappuccinos, one for me and one for Clare, who was staffing our table with me - so we leapt upon him with great cries of glee and swore undying adoration. I think he was pleased ... But really - what a superhero!

So, after all that, thank goodness for the joys of Strictly Come Dancing tonight - I am currently rooting for both Ricky and Phil, but can't make up my mind which one I prefer. I'll see how they do in the Latin dances later on, and then decide who gets my vote!

Oh, and I've finished Adam Thorpe's short story collection, Is This The Way You Said? - which I'm hoping to review for Vulpes Libris at some point (though at the moment don't wait up ...). A very interesting collection and well worth a read, though a couple of the stories (including the long title story) didn't really quite work for me. I also read the list in the front of all the wonderful novels and poetry collections he's published over the last few years and felt like spitting and sticking a pitchfork into his ruddy successful bottom, but I shall endeavour not to let my extreme bitterness and overwhelming deal-envy get the better of me when I write the review. Hmm, we'll see, eh ...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Being bitchy about pesky publishers who, frankly, deserve it
3. Cappuccinos from Lord H
4. TV
5. Books (even though, today, I hate all authors who appear in bookshops on principle).

Anne Brooke - bitter, twisted, but with a jolly nice smile, ho ho
The Gifting - totally unpublishable and very hard to read, apparently ...

Golf and glittery frocks

What a glorious day it's been today - an Indian summer indeed. Here's today's verse:

Meditation 227

Sometimes the only thing
that counts
is the wild shedding

of blood:
from the small agonies
of ancient kings –

names long forgotten –
to the murderous fury
of Paul

as he condemns to darkness
those he’s come
to hate,

it has always been so.


Not really suited to the weather, I know, but what the heck eh. This morning, I have played a rollercoaster game of golf with Marian, which she rightfully won, as being far and away the most consistent player. I had an utterly appalling time on the sixth hole, where astonishingly I missed my first tee shot entirely, but managed somehow to knock the tee itself backwards (backwards?! I ask you!!) whilst leaving the ball still in its place on the mat. Just slightly lower. Ah, the shame. Though it was in some respects a shot of true genius. My second attempt knocked the ball a foot or so in front of me so I decided to try again. My third attempt sent the ball so high that it landed in a tree and then fell between the three split branches so it was completely unplayable. When I took my shot from the nearest point to there, it then went straight into the pond. Lordy. Marian by this time was beside herself with hysterical laughter, and I did wonder whether I should call for an ambulance. Just in case. Never say I'm not caring ... I eventually finished the damn hole in 12. 12!!! Shocking for a par 3 hole. Mind you, I managed to partially redeem myself by getting four apiece in the next three holes, but of course Marian still won. By a good mile.

I then popped into Godalming to restock my essential supplies of Quiet Life pills (over the next week I'm definitely going to need them ...) and peppermint oil. I aim always for a state of calm alertness. As you can tell, ho ho. I've also been working away on the edit to The Hit List and am now on p106 and a quarter of the way through. Robert's arrived. He's pretty damn hot. I forget how much I like Robert - nice to reacquaint myself with him again after so long. I'm enjoying this more than I anticipated I would, I must say.

Oh and I'm fighting a losing battle with trying to get DHL to deliver a parcel to me. They tried it yesterday, but were confused by the door arrangements and left a card without knocking. When I rang up this morning, I find the parcel number on the card is wrong, so they weren't sure for quite a while who the sender might be, and when I asked to change the delivery address to be Lord H's work one, I was told I couldn't do that as only the sender can change details. The sendee is too untrustworthy for such dizzy responsibility. After much argy-bargy, I gather they might try and redeliver here tomorrow, but of course I'll be out at the University welcoming Freshers with a bright smile and a lot of leaflets. Ah well, we'll wait and see then ...

Tonight, we have a Strictly Come Dancing TV extravaganza. I have promised Lord H I will be strong and not vote for anyone, but I told him that last week, and rushed to the phone back then to vote for Chris & Ola as soon as I could - so I fear my husband does not entirely believe me ... I must also do some kind of cleaning before I need to get my sparkly frock out. Bring on the glitter ball. As they say.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Trick golf
3. Editing The Hit List
4. TV.

Anne Brooke - bamboozled by golf balls
The Bones of Summer - a truly sizzling read, naturally ...

Reviews and stonings

I have to say it's great not to be in the office today. Almost feels like being normal (perish the thought). Here's today's poem:

Meditation 226

To start the day:
a good stoning.
Cover your ears

and let sharp rocks
blanket the words
that pierce you most

while the rough cloaks
of murderers
lie heavy in your arms.


My, Saul of Tarsus/St Paul could be a bloodthirsty man on occasion. And really I can't blame him - Stephen the Martyr did go on so. If I'd been there, I might well have stoned him myself. Just to shut him up. Hush my mouth.

Anyway, I'm pleased to say that Maloney's Law has received a five star review on Amazon US, which you can read below:

“This is one compelling and riveting story. I could not put it down. Paul is one tortured soul and his mesmerizing narration grips me from page 1. International intrigues, heart stopping plot, gut wrenching love, a heart tugging friendship, Maloney's Law has it all. Paul is such a complex character. Flawed and pitiful when it comes to his obsessive love for a man who could never reciprocate. Yet without a thought for his life when his search for the truth drives him on. His tragic loss since childhood, his plunge into despair, his sense of justice, his struggle to live on, all these powerfully expressed by the writer. Just brilliant and I look forward to reading the sequel, The Bones of Summer, and more from Anne Brooke. My only regret is that I should have read this earlier.”

Gosh, thank you, R Parkland - so glad you enjoyed the read!

I've also received my proof copy of Salt and Gold and have made one or two corrections and lowered the price to £3.50 for the paperback. So I've asked for another proof copy and will wait to see what that looks like before I go properly public. As it were.

For the rest of the day, I've been continuing the edit of The Hit List and am now happily on p50. Which is roughly one-eighth through. Yes, I do need to cut drastically, as it's quite long for a comedy romance (which is what I'm now intending to make it, rather than comedy crime). We'll see how things shape up as we go on, as they say.

I've also had my back realigned at my Alexander Technique lesson - and goodness me but it needed it after two flights and a tense work week. I think I was all but Toblerone shaped when I walked in, but rather more normal (ho ho) when the lesson had finished. I have to think about inhabiting my space more, apparently. Trouble is, I do find people difficult (they're stealing my space, they're stealing it!) so I tend to duck down and shy away from them, especially if I don't know them. Which of course leads inevitably to a hunched back and a very stiff neck. Sigh. What a lot there is to relearn indeed. On oh so many levels.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. The review of Maloney's Law
3. Tweaking Salt and Gold
4. Editing The Hit List
5. Alexander Technique.

Anne Brooke - conserving her sense of her own space to the best of her limited ability
Maloney's Law - a tortured soul made good ...

Positivity overload and TV heaven

Here’s today’s poem:

Meditation 225

Two men
rehearse the past

while the darkness
surrounding God

rolls in
like the sea

and the secret heart
of fire burns

but does not kill.
Let their long words

cease, fall into
silence.


I forgot to say that we had great fun yesterday making up an alternative new strapline for the business – a fun fifteen minutes which came about as one of our colleagues from another office had to come in to see us as, what with the build-up to Freshers’ Week, she was suffering badly from an overload of positivity. Really, constantly saying everything is perfect is not good for the mental health, you know – and you can always rely on our office for a good grumble, and a rather more honest view. Anyway, the upshot is a new virtual strapline: No worse than anywhere else and better than some. Heck, it does it for me. And Lord H was also impressed and said he’d definitely apply for a course at an organisation with that level of honesty. Sadly, I don’t feel it will be acceptable to the powers that be, and so I might end up purloining the strapline for my own writing life: Anne Brooke: no worse than any other writer and better than some. You heard it here first.

Another fun moment from yesterday was the moment when a man suddenly appeared at the window. No strangeness there, you might think, but we are on the third floor, so we were for a short while highly impressed with the length of his legs (steady, people …). Until we realised he was actually hanging from a rope and cleaning the windows. Nobody told us he was due. Perhaps he was an intrepid burglar after all? The plot thickens.

Meanwhile, the CoolReader disasters continue. Lord H is doing sterling work attempting to persuade them to do the decent thing under the circumstances. Now, however, they are asking us to send the machine back so they can check that we haven’t damaged it ourselves before they consider reimbursement. Um, no. Frankly, I no longer trust them not to do something to the wretched ereader to make it look as if we have damaged it, just so they can get out of paying us the refund. And I’d like to state for the record now that I did not hurt the wretched beast in any way and neither did Lord H. We’re not hooligans. Or criminals. The first machine broke down and then the second machine broke down. It’s up to CoolReaders to deal with it in the way that we would like. And not to assume that we are in the wrong. To my mind, they need to take a long and serious look at their customer care skills. And I would certainly warn people not to buy anything from them. At all. Deep deep sigh … Mind you, I’ve finally managed to get hold of my Twitter CoolReader contact and she seems to be talking some sense at last, for which we are grateful. Here’s hoping it continues.

At work, I’m still attempting to tackle my outstanding piles of minutes, and also to deal with final Freshers’ Week crises. I must really pick up the University stands and great droves of tablecloths today – this is my one big task. I have also remembered to put my Here to Help t-shirt and badge in my bag so I can go straight to the venue on Saturday when I’m in without having to come to the office first. All these things save time. Thank goodness then for my second cappuccino of the week. Am I in danger of becoming an addict?

On the way back home, I popped into see Gladys, but she really wasn't up to much, poor thing. She even turned her nose up at chocolate (shock! horror!). Ah well. Tonight, I’m looking forward to relaxing in a veritable TV heaven – It Takes Two with the lovely Claudia (bliss) and then two hours of the glorious Midsomer Murders. I can’t wait.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. New straplines
3. Mysterious window cleaners
4. Cappuccino – again!
5. TV.

Anne Brooke – no worse than any other writer and better than some
A Dangerous Man – now there’s someone who wouldn’t take any nonsense from an ereader company