A 5+ review for The Bones of Summer!

Well, gosh and double gosh. The lovely Jen at Well Read Books has given me a 5+ star review for The Bones of Summer at Jessewave Reviews, which you can click on there and which I also produce below:

“This is my first full marks review and to be honest I’m a little nervous as to whether what I’m going to write now will actually do this book justice. It was that good. So good, in fact, that I may run out of superlatives. So good, that my mind disappeared into ‘book world’ and I spent every single spare moment reading. So good, that even when I had to do pesky real life things like cooking I was still thinking about the book, wondering what was going to happen next or mulling over the characters, their merits and their flaws. At the beginning of The Bones of Summer everything is going well for Craig. He’s happy with where he lives and is good friends with the two women he shares a house with. He likes his modelling job, even if he’s not been able to get on as an actor. Best of all, is that he gets a phone call from a guy he met a couple of months ago, Paul, who wants to get together and maybe start something. Things are on the up for Craig and he’s happy to go with it and forget all about the terrible things that happened to him when he ran away from his Devon home seven years before. Unfortunately for Craig, life has a way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it. Just after his first date (and night) with Paul, he receives a letter from an old neighbour and friend in Devon telling him that his father is missing. This starts off a chain of events which forces Craig to return to Devon and his past and confront all that he was attempting to forget. Paul is a Private Detective and offers to help Craig investigate his past. This then impacts on their tentative relationship. There are two main themes running through this book. The first, and most obvious theme is that of facing up to your past. Craig ran away from his abusive Father at the age of seventeen and has spent the intervening years trying to avoid thinking of his childhood and the events which led to him leaving. The past, as they say, has a way of catching up with you and I found it admirable in Craig that he faces up to that once he realises that he can’t stay in hiding forever. His reaction to going back to Devon was a mixture of heartbreaking and confusing for the reader. Craig himself has large gaps in his memory and often reacts to his surroundings in a very emotional way that even he can’t understand, let alone explain to Paul. It takes time and a painful stripping away of the layers before Craig is even able to discover what happened. The reader is taken along with that emotional rollercoaster and I found that I had to be very patient and wait, like Craig does, before I got answers to the many questions that I had as I was reading. Paul too has a past. He has suffered tragedy and betrayal in his life which you would think would make him the ideal person to help Craig through this difficult time. However, things are never that simple which leads to the second theme: That of secrets and lies. Both men have secrets from each other. In one sense this is understandable; they have just met each other and are starting a tentative journey on the road to love. Neither one of them want to share their past with each other yet. Craig doesn’t want to scare Paul off and Paul has his own reasons to which we are not privy. It did annoy me that Paul often accuses Craig of lying to him, when, rather hypocritically, he never comes wholly clean about his own past. In fact, I found myself getting cross with Paul quite a lot throughout the book. On one hand he offers to help Craig and even spends a lot of time supporting him through this terrible time; but on the other hand he uses quite brutal methods to force Craig to open up and speak about his past. Methods such as the use of emotional blackmail by withdrawing his approval or acting coldly towards him or blowing hot and cold so that Craig is confused as to where he stands in their relationship. I wasn’t sure I liked Paul, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a terrific character. He was – as is any character who draws such a response from me. If you are thinking that this sounds like a very angst filled book, then you will be right. Emotions run high throughout the novel. Both men are strong characters who are dealing in their own way with distressing things that have happened to them. Sometimes they break down in tears; sometimes they clash horribly and say dreadful things to each other; sometimes they make love fiercely in order to forget; sometimes they close up and suffer in silence. These were complex men and I was never really sure how they would react at any time. It was this unpredictability that had me on the edge of my seat throughout the book. What a thrilling ride! Having said that, the book wasn’t all doom and gloom and what saved it from being too heavy going was the internal voice of Craig. He had a typical British self-depreciating sense of humour and a ready wit, which brought out humour in the direst of circumstances. An example of this was his self-created list of ‘rules for gay men’. But he’d better not forget Gay Rule Number One: At least find out a name and a job before you do the business.Craig also has a great optimism about him. He always tries to focus on the good, even if he does worry about the bad things which are happening to him. This idealistic cheerfulness was appealing and coupled with Craig’s sarcastic humour often gets him into trouble, but did help to lighten the feel of the book. I’ve only touched the surface of what was so great about this book. It wasn’t just the realistic characterisation that made this book a fantastic read. The settings were so ordinary, so domestic, such as kitchens, bedrooms, an office, a club, and yet terrible things happened in those settings so that their mere ordinariness added to the chill down the spine. The plotting was tight, with each clue, each answer, being revealed slowly until a breathtaking, frantic, thrilling conclusion. Have I waxed lyrical enough about this book? I don’t think I can. All I can do is recommend that you read The Bones of Summer. Actually, this goes beyond recommendation to a plea – if you like mystery; if you like character driven books; if you like reading compulsively, unable to part with the story for even a short time; then you must read this book.”

Double gosh and enormous thank yous from me, Jen – I’m so glad you enjoyed it so much! Actually, astonishingly glad, bearing in mind the traumas of the day and the fact that I struggle so hard to get a book published at all! It’s so lovely when readers like it. Thank you.

Keeping to literary matters, here’s today’s meditation:

Meditation 168

A litany of disasters
opens out:
famine, disease, war,

pain, exile, oppression,
murder, cannibalism, death.
But on this day

of quietness and warmth
the voice of the past

seems far away.

This morning, I caught up with yesterday’s episode of Torchwood - the shock! the awful revelation! What on earth did Jack think he was doing??!? Words fail me. I can’t wait for tonight … I’ve also picked up a free courtesy car from the garage as poor Rupert is going to be sick until at least the weekend. The trauma of driving a courtesy car was bad enough (Lord but I hate change), but when I attempted to get it into reverse in order to park it at home, the damn gear stick came off in my hand and the cars queueing up to wait for me to sort myself out had to wait a while longer as I struggled to get the damn thing back in. Really, it doesn’t bode well … Not only that, but I can’t work out how to open the windows so when getting and giving back my car park ticket in Guildford this afternoon, I had to leap out of the car, sort out the barrier machine and then leap back into the car and drive through at a rate of knots before the pole came down again. I also had trouble getting into 2nd gear as the pesky thing tends to go straight from 1st to 4th, which makes roundabouts interesting, to say the least. And Guildford has some damn complex roundabouts. Really, it’s astonishing I’m alive at all …

Thank goodness for a girly lunch and a free glass of wine (thank the Lord for food vouchers) with Robin this afternoon. Lovely to see her, and the support while I burbled on for ten minutes from the off about cars and stress and gear sticks is hugely appreciated. Thank you, Robin. After lunch, we wandered around Guildford and I have bought a very nice green summer cardigan with my Viyella voucher – it must be a voucher day indeed.

Back home, I have finally finished typing up my notes for The Giftingand now need to go through them and highlight the things I specially need to bear in mind for the proper Hallsfoot’s Battle edit. And, in the meantime and sadly, I am now one of only two authors who have no bids, for Maloney’s Law at the Diabetes Charity auction. Ah, the shame is mounting, you know and only four days left, woe is me.

Lastly, you’ll be pleased to know that after nearly 24 hours (24 hours!!!), my Cool-er Reader has finally charged itself up and I must now work out how to load ebooks onto it and how to read them. The mystery thickens, Carruthers …

Today’s nice things:

1. A lovely 5+ review for The Bones of Summer, hurrah!
2. Poetry
3. Torchwood
4. Lunch & shopping with Robin
5. Finishing the pre-edits
6. A charged-up Cool-er Reader – at last!

Anne Brooke – having a veritable rollercoaster day

Torchwood Day Three, Diabetes Day Five and a Cool-er Reader

Another good episode of Torchwood yesterday, though not quite as hot and on-the-edge as the first episode, I think. It’s also strange how Jack and Ianto seem to blow hot and cold, and there’s very little consistency in it. In Episode One they appeared to be a normal couple (well, relatively normal, bearing in mind Jack isn’t entirely human …), yet in Episode Two when Jack dies several times and is then rescued by Gwen & Ianto from his cement prison by the means of dropping the whole lot into a quarry so he dies and lives again, neither man appears to be that pleased to see each other. Bizarre really. Perhaps they have evil twins who occasionally take over and that’s another Torchwood secret yet to be revealed? And, while I’m on the subject, Lord H is rather puzzled as to where the Government managed to get hold of such quick drying cement and why can’t they let any of the rest of us have it … The plot thickens indeed, Carruthers, much like the cement.

Still, I’m looking forward to Episode Three which I plan to watch on the i-player tomorrow as I’m out with Jane H for pizza and chat in Godalming tonight, hurrah! (Hello, Jane).

In the meantime, the Diabetes charity auction continues andMaloney’s Law is still up for grabs. It’s a wonderful chance to support a very worthwhile cause and there are only five days left to do so … Says she, sounding only ever so slightly desperate that she’s one of the two authors who’ve received no bids yet. My reputation goes before me, I fear.

At work, we’ve had a briefing meeting for the upcoming open day next week – though I won’t actually be involved in that one, it’s always worth knowing what the plans are, especially as I’ll be organising our office team for a couple of them coming up later in the year. The excitement of the day though was when one of the Students’ Union staff came in and wanted to stamp a letter with a “Received on …” date stamp. However, without the Dean of Students’ office here today, nobody knew how to change the date stamp, and it took four of us and a lot of wasted ink to work our way to that conclusion. In the end, we just used a pen. Ah the old ways are sometimes the best, you know. New-fangled date stamps – bah, we say, bah!

And, horrifyingly, it’s that time of year for our annual review – yikes! I don’t think I’m even halfway towards completing last year’s goals yet. Best get a move on then … Oh and this week’s heroes are the Monty Python team, Ram from Student Advice, Lauren from Mentoring, and Brother Lawrence. Just because they are, really.

Still no news on the car front though – I was hoping to get it back today, but it’s all gone very quiet. Perhaps poor Rupert is beyond all hope now? Sob. Mind you, I might finally get round to looking at a new (well, second-hand new …) car at the weekend, so maybe this is a push in the right direction? Trouble is, all the cars we’ve looked at appear to be silver or black, and I was hoping for a colour this time round. Has the car industry run out of spray paint? UPDATE – sadly the car is worse off than we feared and the aircon, clutch and fanbelt are all very very unhappy. The garage man’s going to ring me again tomorrow with an ultimate price update – deep deep sigh, combined with sobbing …

I’ve now finished reading Chris Cleave’s novel, The Other Hand, which I hope to review for Vulpes Libris later. Hmm and hmm is all I can say, and editors aren’t really what they used to be … Mind you, the great news is that my new Cool-er Reader (in the picture, mine’s the violet one) has arrived and I’m now charging it up ready to upload my first eBooks for reading away from my computer, hurrah. I can’t wait.

Today’s nice things:

1. Torchwood
2. Charity auction
3. Date stamp fun
4. The week’s heroes
5. Thinking about a new car, maybe
6. The Cool-er Reader
7. Dinner with Jane.

Anne Brooke – bringing her reading into the 21st century at last

Torchwood Day Two, charity books and sad cars

I’m pleased to say that a signed copy of Maloney’s Law is part of an eBay charity auction to support the American Diabetes Association. This is a cause that’s very important to me, no matter what country it’s in, as a large part of my family suffer from diabetes, and both my father and grandmother died from it. So if you do feel able to bid for the book at all, that would be hugely appreciated, and the link is here. Other books in the auction can be found at Meerzoor2’s entry. And it lasts until 13 July. Many thanks indeed.

Meanwhile, the car’s not too happy. Apparently, it’s not the air con but a variety of problems with the fanbelt and adjuster thingy (no, it’s a mystery to me too …), and the garage won’t have it ready until tomorrow, so it looks like I’m going to have to rely on Lord H’s kindness and more reliable car until that point. Here’s hoping it’s not too expensive a repair though …

Oh and I must say I thought yesterday’s episode of Torchwood was fantastic. Edge-of-the-seat stuff and lots of hugely interesting plot lines. With a totally terrific cliffhanger ending. I loved it. Can’t wait for tonight’s second helping. Bring it on.

At work, I fear I might have to help out with a last-minute presentation to new international foundation students, as there’s nobody else around. Groan … How I hate being involved with presentations – it’s a nightmare. I am terrified beyond all terror of public speaking. I might just hold up our PowerPoint slides, point at the relevant phrase and hope for the best. Anything rather than having to speak. I’ll only be really happy when it’s over. UPDATE: Actually the students were really sweet and there weren’t that many of them which suited me and Ram from Student Advice, no problem. It ended up being very informal and I think we did okay – thanks, Ram! But phew, thank goodness it’s over – I’ll never be a natural.

Was thinking about walking into town at lunchtime to look at clothes, but I feel the urge might have passed. It never stays long. So I had a walk around the campus instead and got utterly drenched by the rain. So much so that I am now attempting to dry my socks out on one of the portable heaters so they’ll be dry enough to go home in. Should have brought my wellies really. I also popped into to the campus art gallery, but can’t say the latest exhibition of etchings did much for me – though I did appreciate how dark, sinister and shadowy they were. Maybe it was because it was focused on scenes from Paris, and I’m afraid I don’t much like Paris. Ah well.

Tonight, I’m taking part in a Pride Month Dreamspinner authors event at Beth Wylde’s Yahoo Group, so I’m looking forward to chatting about The Bones of Summer and various GLBT fiction matters. Thanks so much for inviting us, Beth!

And later of course there’s Torchwood Day Two – can’t forget that!

Today’s nice things:

1. Helping support a diabetes charity
2. Torchwood
3. Surviving a presentation (phew!)
4. Pride Month Dreamspinner book event.

Anne Brooke – doing her bit for diabetes support

Torchwood Day One and a spot of car trouble

How delightful – a whole week of Torchwood to look forward to. I really can’t wait for tonight’s episode. First off though, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 166

The prizes for goodness:
crops, cattle

and children.
Frankly, that doesn’t do it

for me, as surely
there’s less responsibility

with chocolate, diamonds
and roses

but perhaps that after all
is the point.

Some good literary news today is that my Biblical short story, The Rock, has been accepted for publication by Einstein’s Pocket Watch webzine. It was published briefly earlier this year at Perpetual Magazine but unfortunately the owner had to close the site due to family illness, which was a shame. But it’s nice that the story will get another airing later in the year.

Other good news and still Bible-based (well, gosh, how holy I’m becoming …) is that we now have a publication date and a title for the upcoming Bible Stories Anthology produced by Bridge House Publishing (which will include my story, The Voyage). This will be out on 13 August and the title will be Disasters and Miracles. Sounds great to me – and I’m very much looking forward to it.

At work, I’m attempting to cope with yet more changes to the parental guidelines document – it feels very much like fighting my way through the undergrowth without the chance of a light at the moment, but presumably it will all be done at some point. One can only hope so.

With all this, I definitely needed my lunchtime reflexology session – which was bliss as ever. If you ever get the chance for a reflexology moment, I can highly recommend it. It set me up for the trauma of doing the Tesco shop after work (groan), though thankfully there didn’t appear to be as much on my list as I’d feared, hurrah.

However, the day’s big highlight must surely be the start of theTorchwood week on TV tonight. A whole week of Jack & Ianto & the gang – what could be nicer? Mustn’t forget the last episode of Krod and his Flaming Sword though (which happens tonight instead of later in the week for some strange reason) – I do have a soft spot for old Krod. In fact Lord H thinks it would be highly effective if Captain Jack simply turned up in Krod’s world and sorted them all out, with Ianto’s admin help. Now that would be an episode to watch …

UPDATE: slight car trouble on the way home, I fear – something rotten in the state of Denmark, so I’m now at home waiting for the RAC man to discover why there’s a great smell of burning from the engine. Gosh, he’s arrived! So early, hurrah, so I’ll still be able to watch Torchwood, phew. It transpires that my air con has broken down so much that it’s upsetting the engine workings (it’s been broken for a while really, to be honest) and we’ve dropped it down at the local garage with a note from the RAC man telling the garage man what’s wrong and asking him to fix it. Poor Rupert (the car) – hope the other cars are nice to him tonight now he’s in a strange place … All very quick and relatively pain-free – apart from the fact that the RAC man and I were having such a nice chat as he drove me back home that he forgot to take the turning to my road and we started driving to Guildford. I’ve been kidnapped! How very exciting! However, all’s well that ends well – we found a turning and Lord H now has his wife back, unscathed, hurrah. We wait in trepidation to see how the poor car is though …

Today’s nice things:

1. Torchwood Day One
2. Poetry
3. Short story acceptance
4. A date & title for the Bible stories anthology
5. Reflexology
6. Krod
7. Nice RAC men.

Anne Brooke – wondering where her wheels went …

A sociable day and the mystery of banns

A day of people and prayer today – ideal for a Sunday really. The meditation I came up with is this:

Meditation 165

She takes her grief
to the road,

feeling it tremble
and shift

upon her shoulders.
Perhaps the wind

will pull it away,
or the brambles

snatch it, piercing
its heavy darkness

with tiny spikes
of thorn.

We had a jolly good hymn-sing at church today – all the good old faithfuls with the good old tunes. Really there’s nothing like it. However, it was something of a rocky ride through the day’s bann calling – I don’t know why but banns are a constant source of surprise to every church I’ve ever been in – we may indeed look like swans to the visiting couples and their families but there’s an awful lot of frantic dabbling going on underneath to try to get them right. Most times, nobody knows the difference but today, it was so surprising to us all that the poor vicar had no option but to be honest (always a revelation in church circles, don’t you know …) – her eyes widened significantly when the couple plus parents ran in late and filled up the front pew whilst smiling and looking hopeful, so she welcomed the visitors and then asked if by chance they might be expecting banns to be called. Yes, they were rather, came the response, so poor Jenny (vicar) left us singing a hymn while she dashed out to the vestry to get the banns book. On the last verse, she dashed back, looking rather bemused and then asked the church warden to have a look while she got on with the service. Elizabeth (church warden) was out for rather a long time, then Jenny went out again while we were belting out the second hymn. At which point it transpired that the banns book had gone missing (actually they often do – they turn up every so often from whatever universe they actually dwell in and then there’s an awful lot of writing up records to make sure it looks okay should the diocese come round). Not to be defeated, we simply resorted to getting the engaged couple to write down their names on a piece of paper, and Jenny then called them towards the middle of the service. To be honest, as long as you actually say the words in front of a congregation, everything else can be done on a wing and a prayer (and often is), and everyone’s happy.

Mind you, I had a brief chat with the couple afterwards and reassured them that the First Rule of Church Weddings is: A rocky ride through the banns means a perfect wedding day. And I should know – my own ride through the banns was a rollercoaster of disasters, involving (a) travelling 300 miles to hear them and then the vicar decided he wasn’t going to do them until the following week; and (b) the vicar almost forgetting to call them out for the second time of asking and having to be reminded by my mother getting out of her pew, striding up to the front and tapping him on the shoulder while he was deep in prayer (he was a very religious sort of a chap, for a vicar anyway) and threatening to remove the pulpit cloth (which she donated) unless he did it there and then. That worked. Ah, happy days, eh. Anyway, the couple today seemed relieved to know it isn’t just them and are already looking forward to seeing how we handle it all next week …

This afternoon, Lord H and I have been helping to celebrate Marian’s husband reaching the respectable age of 70 (gosh!), which involved a lovely garden party at theirs and lots of chat and good food. Wonderful. The weather was perfect for it too, in spite of this morning’s rain.

Tonight I’m continuing writing up the notes on The Gifting and wondering why the hell there isn’t anything decent to watch on TV. I mean it’s Sunday night -we deserve it. Where are Midsomer Murders when we need them?? Sigh.

And this week’s haiku (in honour of the weather) is:

All week long, the heat
melts our skin, making us taste
time’s quiet journey.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Church
3. A 70th birthday party
4. Writing up The Gifting notes
5. Haikus.

Anne Brooke – muddling through the day

The art of waiting

A glorious day out in London today but I still managed to squeeze in a meditation moment or two:

Meditation 164

Your life is measured
in stone.

It stands in the river
and on the mountain,

a silent white marker
for all you have done,

thought, said.
Let your hand

brush its cold surface,
remember how

you have arrived.

So. To the big city. This morning we wandered round the National Portrait Gallery which is as fabulous as ever. We admired the BP Portrait Award paintings, which are especially exciting this year as local man Peter Monkman (who teaches art at Charterhouse, the school next door) won first prize with a marvellous painting of his daughter, called Changeling 2. Very well done to Peter!

We also enjoyed the new Gay Icons exhibition, which is really interesting and I can definitely recommend that also. I only wish they’d had a paperback version of the catalogue, but they only had a hardback, dammit, at £20 which I thought was a tad too much. Appropriately enough though, there also appeared to be a Gay Pride event on in Trafalgar Square involving a concert and lots of stalls, which looked a lot of fun – though the Japanese tourists did seem rather confused by the plethora of pink on the streets.

After a quick lunch at the NPG cafe, we then wandered round theNational Gallery for a while. Honestly you always see something different when you go, and this time I fell in love with the paintings of a man and a woman by Robert Campin - it’s not great quality onscreen, but the luminosity and the delicacy of the work was stunning. However, all this aside, it’s true to say that art does take its toll on the feet – all that standing around, my dears …

And during the afternoon came the out-and-out highlight of our day – a wonderful performance of Waiting for Godot with the glorious Patrick Stewart and the stalwart Ian McKellen. Bliss. It was very well done indeed and totally off-the wall. As the play is of course. I particularly enjoyed Ronald Pickup’s bravura handling of Lucky’s long, intellectual and highly complex soliloquy. He got a hearty round of applause for that – as he deserved. It’s a very difficult piece. And Patrick Stewart is so damned hot too – mmm … Such a treat.

Anyway today’s curious London fact is this: on the underground, they kept reminding us that the weather is very hot and we must therefore remember to drink lots of water. What??!? When did the underground nominate itself as being in charge of the traveller’s health?? Aren’t we adults here?? They should damn well stop being so condescending and simply concentrate on getting us from A to B. As Lord H said, next they’ll be telling us we can’t go home until we’ve had our five portions of fruit and veg, or telling us we shouldn’t be using the underground at all as the walk will do us good. Deep deep sigh …

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Portraits – especially winning ones from local men!
3. Gay Icons
4. Paintings in general
5. Plays, especially when they involve Patrick Stewart.

Anne Brooke – replete with art and happy to wait …

Brokeback article and editing notes

Here’s today’s meditation for you – and I’m now onto the story about Lazarus, as you can probably tell:

Meditation 163

The slow disappearing
into the dark cave,

solidity weighting the skin,
impression of night

velvet-rich on the tongue.
It is hard

when the eyes
no longer open:

when will he come
when will he come

when will he
come.

How very jolly I am, eh. Anyway I’ve had a fun time this morning typing up my article about Brokeback Mountain for Vulpes Libris - goodness me, what a lot I had to say indeed. It feels great now I’ve got it all onto the page. Or rather screen. Adaptation Week will be the week of 20 July and will include lots of hugely exciting pieces too, so don’t forget to look out for that.

I’ve popped into Godalming to get my essential weekly fix of the local news, and I’m also thrilled to see that a short article about my books is included in this month’s Writers’ News magazine. Well, gosh. On the other hand, I am hugely annoyed by some ridiculous article in the accompanying Writing Magazine about how self-publishing isn’t “real” publishing and we shouldn’t do it. Ye gods, how old fashioned can you get?? Really, authors who’ve been lucky enough to land deals every time they so much as venture into the outside world or who simply don’t know the first thing about how the real writing world is should learn to keep their mouths firmly closed and give the rest of us a chance to do whatever we damn well wish to. It’s very condescending to think that self-publishing is a lesser relative in the publishing world – these days, sensible writers (such as myself – ho ho) take advantage of it whenever we need to. Harrumph, I say. Speech over.

This afternoon I’ve finished taking notes about The Gifting and now all I have to do is type them up. Hey ho. That’s just over 20 sides of scrawl so it could take some time. Only after that can I really get onto the actual editing of Hallsfoot’s Battle. I hope Annyeke and the gang aren’t fretting too much at my curious absence … I’ll be back – as they say.

I’ve also had a much-needed Alexander Technique lesson but was ten minutes late as the traffic in and around Guildford is at the moment a Living Hell. Apparently some lorry has overturned and the whole of the south-east has ground to a halt. I felt much more chilled after the lesson though, thank goodness. I needed it for the long journey home …

Oh, and I’ve just received a rejection (groan) from the second publisher I sent my long poem too. I still like it, but I don’t think I have the heart to send it out anywhere else. Too much effort. I don’t think I’ll be writing another one of that length either. But, talking of poetry, I’m making plans to self-publish my first forty meditations and am thinking of using I-universe this time round, as Lulu seems very ponderous sometimes, not least when you approach them as someone attempting to buy one of their books. Or maybe I’m just unlucky when I try to buy?? So if anyone has any pressing warnings about I-universe that I need to take into account, I’d be hugely grateful for the benefit of your wisdom. Thank you!

Tonight, I must catch the last of the Torchwood radio plays on the i-player. So far they’ve been great fun. And later, Eight out Ten Cats is on TV, so that should give me my essential Friday night comedy quota. Ooh, and there’s pizza and ice cream for dinner too. What bliss.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Brokeback article
3. An article about me in Writers’ News
4. Finishing the notes for The Gifting
5. Alexander Technique lesson
6. Thinking about my next poetry collection
7. Torchwood
8. TV
9. Food.

Anne Brooke
Anne Brooke – puzzling over poetry

Brokeback, massages and God

Now there’s a title that you don’t really want coming up on your A Level Philosophy paper with the command to “Discuss”. Scary biscuits indeed. Anyway, getting God out of the way first (sort of), here’s today’s meditation:

Meditation 162

Remember the past
with baskets of wheat,
corn, barley, garlic,

figs, grapes,
pomegranates.
Let them rest

on the altar
where God remembers also
and walk away

into bright air
and sunlight.

Other literary news is that Is This Reality webzine have accepted my short story, The Way Back, for future publication, so that’s nice – thank you, Jade! And I’ve spent the morning watching the film of Brokeback Mountain and taking notes for my upcoming Vulpes Libris article. It’s such a fantastic film. It makes different and very interesting choices from the book of course – which I intend to talk about in my piece in some measure – but that’s as it should be as the mediums of literature and film are very different. At one point at the end, I was blubbing so hard I had to take my glasses off. Which doesn’t really do my kick-ass Paxman-style image much good, I grant you. And I know what happens too. Really, it’s hard to take notes when you can’t see the page for the tears, sigh.

This afternoon, I have had a wonderful massage and facial from Alice, the new Clarins girl. At one point, I was so relaxed I think I drifted off to sleep. Bliss. And the big excitement is that Clarins have finally produced a foot cream which goes on the shelves next week and I have a sample of it, ha! How I long for the day when they finally give us Clarins groupies some soap too. Liquid and hard copy (as it were) would be nice.

Tonight, I’m at the Bible Study at the Rectory and continuing our tour of the Book of James. Well, at least I assume that’s what we’re doing as I’ve missed a few weeks what with holidays and stuff, so anything could be going on really. I shall take the prettiest of the Bibles in the flat (ah, my dears, we have loads, in all sorts of versions, shapes and sizes, I fear …) along with me and attempt to look confident. That way, nobody will realise I know nothing. Hell, it’s a plan.

I also mustn’t forget to listen to today’s radio episode of Torchwood, plus Krod Mandoon and that pesky flaming sword of his also beckons. I’m beginning to have a soft spot for that man. Do you think I need help?…

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Short story acceptance
3. Watching Brokeback Mountain
4. Clarins massage & facial
5. Bible thoughts
6. Torchwood
7. TV.

Anne Brooke – totally chilled out, apart from the weather …

Bones on Amazon, first review and Torchwood delights

Great news! The Bones of Summer paperback is now available onAmazon UK and I’ve even got my first review from Unique Logophilos, which you can read here. It’s a positive and also very interesting one, and the issues raised are certainly making me think. Thanks, Ann!

I’m also pleased to hear that seven of my meditation poems have been accepted for publication by Ashé Journal, so I’ll look forward to that for sure. Thanks, Sven!

And here’s today’s meditation poem:

Meditation 161

The wolf lurks
in the shadows,

waiting for the smallest hint
of inattention.

His eyes glow yellow
against the dark

and his black coat
would be sleek and warm

on your skin
if he touched you.

I’ve spent some time today marketing Bones now it’s out in the UK – the University have put the information on our intranet too which is lovely, and I’ve emailed a few people with the news. I do hope that anyone who buys it enjoys the read as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

Meanwhile, at work, we’re still sweltering in the heat and I’m still pondering the mysteries of Steering Group reviews. I’ve now – with Ruth’s and Andrea’s help (can’t think of these things on my own, you know …) – drafted a couple of pages of questions which includes a table for comments. Tables for comments always look impressive, I think. Well, I hope so anyway.

Managed to slob by the lake again at lunchtime as any concept of walking anywhere is totally beyond me. I’ve just finished reading Annie Proulx’ Brokeback Mountain in preparation for writing a piece comparing it with the film for the upcoming Adaptation Week atVulpes Libris. Honestly, it’s such a raw, strong and lyrical short story – I’ve read it so many times already and yet it still makes me feel utterly and totally shattered. In a good way. Lots of food for thought there then. My next task, and another pleasurable one: watching the Brokeback Mountain DVD again. Ah, it’s a tough job, eh, but somebody’s got to do it …

I’ve been creating a poster for our upcoming University event withCharles Christian, so I’ve sent that off to the English Department for their input. The actual date isn’t till October but I like to get ahead – particularly as September will be so horrendously busy here at the educational frontline that we might not even have time to breathe …

I also mustn’t forget that the first of this week’s three Torchwood radio plays is on this afternoon, so I’m planning to catch up with it on i-player tonight. Am also hoping to do a few more notes on The Gifting in the ongoing pre-edit, though I have to admit it’s going very slowly at the moment. It’s just too hot to be quick at anything. And I’m aiming to see Ugly Betty later on too, hurrah!

Today’s nice things:

1. The Bones of Summer at Amazon UK
2. Review for Bones
3. Poetry acceptance
4. Poetry writing
5. Marketing
6. Thinking about Brokeback Mountain
7. Making posters
8. Torchwood
9. Pre-editing
10. TV.

Anne Brooke – living and breathing books at the moment …

Feeling the heat, a Bones review and a symphonic novel

It’s going to be a scorcher today, I fear. Here’s this morning’s meditation before we reach for our Pimm’s and ice:

Meditation 160

In early sunlight
the slats of the gate
glitter, pulsate
with shining cobwebs,
the day’s harbingers.

Beyond, the field
and distant mountains
shimmer with a promise
you can’t yet taste:
tantalising, dangerous.

Keeping to books, I am utterly thrilled with my first (five-star) review of The Bones of Summer which can be found at Amazon US (scroll down to the review section to read). Thanks so much to Amos Lassen for such kind words – I particularly liked “Brooke is a terrific writer and if you have not read her, you are really missing something.” I think I might even put that in my Christmas cards if you’re very unlucky!…

At work, I am considering the year’s Steering Group meetings and seeing how we can improve them. Yes, well, rather too much of a managerial task for me (I really only wanted to do the typing, you know …) but I’ll have to try to think of something. A blank page response doesn’t look good. At the same time, the office is drumming up more enthusiasm for our plans for Freshers’ Week – all very worthwhile and necessary of course, but as the whole concept is as usual filling me with dread and existential terror, my smile is, I admit, a little on the fixed side …

I decided against my lunchtime walk round campus today as it’s way too hot, but I did sit by the lake for a while and read. While I was there, in the heat and anger of the day, I finished Rose Tremain’s The Road Home – which I’ve been reading for the University Book Group meeting in July. What a novel. It’s the literary equivalent of listening to a great symphony. Possibly Beethoven but I’m not a musical expert. The characters are rich and vibrant with colour, and some of the turns of phrase are gripping. What puzzled me is that the review quote on the front of the book calls it “wild and beautiful.” Actually it’s anything but wild. It’s the most measured piece of writing I’ve read for a long time. “Measured and beautiful” would be far more accurate. That said, the symphony isn’t perfect. Some of the protagonist’s (Lev) actions are, I think, out of character. I don’t think he’s a man who succumbs to bouts of rage, but he does so in the novel a couple of times. This doesn’t work. I was also worried about two characters, our main man Lev and his short-term girlfriend Sophie, who seemed happy to take money from people in an old people’s home now and again without so much as sparing a thought for the morality of such actions. And I speak as one who used to work in an old people’s home, if on a voluntary basis. They’re always offering money – it’s part of dementia or the general vulnerability of old age. You either laugh it off or take any cheques to the home manager who can dispose of them as he/she thinks fit. So I did find that part of the book rather shocking and it felt as if Tremain hadn’t done her research properly here. Although of course I can’t judge a novelist for that – I’m Mrs Research Light after all. On a more serious note, however, I also think the novel is a good fifty pages or so too long. Maybe more. Reading the end of The Road Home felt like listening to a piece of music where the composer didn’t quite know how to end it and then it eventually fizzled out somewhat. Also the ending doesn’t work – it’s too neat and too happy, on a surface level. I think the power of the book required more angst at the end. That would have been better. However it’s nice that Sophie comes from Godalming – I of course did appreciate that! So, negative points aside, this is a novel well worth reading, if you haven’t already.

Meanwhile, I’ve written a poem about clocks. As you do. And I’ve got the second part of my advance cheque from Dreamspinner Press, so that’s put a spring in my step, thank you, Elizabeth!

Oh and I forgot to say yesterday that I tried to convince the boss that I may have a prickly exterior but that inside I am as soft and malleable as marshmallows melted in the sun. Or words to that effect. His response was actually he thought it was really the other way round, and I was pricklier on the inside than out. Well, harrumph, we say. That’s him off my Christmas card list then …!

Tonight, I’ll continue with my read through of The Gifting whilst sticking as closely as possible to our one and one fan. There’s still more ironing to do too, but I don’t really know if I can face it. The good thing though is that Lord H brought home loads of salad things, plus choc ices, from the shops yesterday which should keep us going for another few days, so we don’t have to turn the oven on at all, hurrah!

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Reading
3. Being lazy
4. Books
5. Royalty cheques
6. The continuing pre-edit
7. Not having to turn the oven on.

Anne Brooke – wondering if she’s reached the day’s prickle quota yet