Church, birds and Bones

This morning’s bible reading brought a wry smile to the lips. Some things never change, eh. Here it is:

Meditation 138

Instructions for kings:
do not possess
too many horses,

or wives,
too much silver
or gold.

Beyond that,
it’s open house,
pretty much.

Though an occasional
flick through
the scriptures

might just,
on balance,
be wise.

Lord H and I have also been much amused – in a despairing, “surely they can sink no lower than this?” kind of a way – to read that one of our honorable MPs has charged a church donation of £5 to expenses. Which would be really pretty low on the low scale in itself. However it was also for a Battle of Britain commemoration service, so surely it can’t get any worse than that?? Ye gods and little fishes, one hopes not. Mind you, it’s so cunningly low and unforgivable that it’s probably a work of genius and we should make the guy PM at once. After all, we need someone with a jazzy amount of deceit and dishonour in that role, don’t we? Otherwise nothing of importance gets done, sigh …

Anyway, church today was packed full of stirring Pentecost hymns (which makes sense as it is, after all, Pentecost today) and the vicar was wearing a lovely red stole (the long scarf thingy that hangs round the neck on top of the white robe) with flowers on it. Which is obviously her pride and joy. However, having admired the recent Church Times cartoon about the secret messages vicars are trying to give us in their stole patterns, we are now convinced the poor woman is desperate for someone to do her garden for her. Well, she probably doesn’t have time – she’s too busy trying to knock the fingers of those pesky MPs out of the collection plate before they take all our hard-earned cash.

After church, we had a very pleasant stroll round Winkworth arboretum. You’ll be pleased to hear that both the foxgloves and lupins are now beginning to appear and – thanks to Lord H’s superior flower knowledge – yes I do know the difference. Whether I’ll remember it for next year is entirely another question. We also had the usual blackcaps falling over themselves in an attempt to get noticed, and a high number of feeding tit families fluttering about and squeaking a lot. As they do.

This afternoon, I have continued on with the great tome of Hallsfoot’s Battle and I’ve now put a structure in place for the last few scenes as the war finishes. Simon’s going to have to do some pretty nifty work with that mind-cane of his in order to save the day, but I suspect he may well be up to it by now. Thanks of course to the reappearance of Ralph in the same vicinity as himself for the first time in a long, long time. Well, I know Simon should perhaps be more wary of a man who’s tried to hang him and then pursued him across the lands accompanied by the mind-executioner all hell-bent on death and destruction, but my warm-hearted if slightly confused scribe is a man who doesn’t give up easily. And what’s a little rope and a crazed killer between friends, eh? Not that I fear he’s going to get much chance to enjoy Ralph’s company for any extended time, alas, but who can tell? Those scenes have yet to be written.

Still on the subject of books, I can’t say I’ve really enjoyed The Blue Fox by Sjon. It’s a strange mix of fairy tale and surreal mystery, and I didn’t really get into it at all. However, at only 112 pages, that’s not too much heartache. To be fair, it started off well and interestingly enough, with the blue fox and the vengeful preacher. And I enjoyed the concept of short almost-prose poems telling a magical tale, but then somehow the interest faded and I found I didn’t much care. I think it would have been better if the whole story had been told in prose poem or short poem/haiku style – that would have been truly fascinating and very brave. But I sensed that Sjon didn’t hold onto the courage of his initial vision somehow. That said, it’s won countless awards in Iceland (which sounds like I’m being bitchy, I know, but what the hell), so may well please some.

Tonight, it appears that (oh joy, the schedulers have heard me for once) A Night at the Museum is on again, so this time – when I’m not so head-deep in edits as I was last Sunday – I shall watch the whole of it. It’s a great film.

This week’s haiku:

On my back I bear
the week’s slow weight and pattern
pressing me to earth.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Church
3. Winkworth
4. Birds
5. Flowers
6. Fiddling around with Hallsfoot
7. TV – again
8. Haikus.

Anne Brooke – wondering how much she can claim back from church on her expenses sheet …
Cancer Research Race for Life – only 6 days left to donate!

Blackcaps, butterflies and Bones

In spite of the calls of today’s glorious weather, I did linger long enough in the flat to get my meditation poem written:

Meditation 137

The world is framed
by judgement, stone
and water.

You have lived
with the scent of it
so long

that change
is a strange friend,
a darker shadow

at your shoulder.
Think about
when the water stirs –

if you want
to taste it at all.

The seriously exciting literary news of today though is that I have the galley proofs for The Bones of Summer from Dreamspinner Pressso have spent a lot of the day going through those. There are some problems with how italics seem on my Mac, but I’ve raised that so I hope it should be fine. Only 22 days to go to the publication date, hurrah!

I’ve also been taking part in the Dreamspinner Authors’ Chat day at the Love Romances Yahoo Group, and I’m been hugely encouraged by the very positive reaction to my Chapter One excerpt of The Bones of Summer. They also liked the cover, which was very pleasing too, and in case you’ve forgotten that, here it is as a reminder:

Ah, religion, death and a budding gay relationship – what could be nicer?

Lord H and I have also gone birdspotting on St Martha’s Hill, near Guildford – it was incredibly peaceful and, though we didn’t manage to see many birds (but the blackcap was grand!), we had fun spotting a painted lady and a brimstone butterfly. Fabulous. Also lovely to be able to wear my sunhat for the first time in a while, hurrah.

And I’ve also had the Alexander Technique lesson I had to miss yesterday as the tutor was away – so my back is smiling once more. For a while at least.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Bones galley proofs
3. Authors’ Yahoo chats
4. The Bones cover – I still love it!
5. Blackcaps
6. Butterflies
7. Alexander Technique.

Anne Brooke – so nearly stylish in a sunhat …
Cancer Research Race for Life – one week to go before the big day!

Golf, battles and that upstart tea boy

I am battling with sickness and hope in this morning’s meditation, which possibly isn’t a subject fit for such a bright and sunshiny day but here it is anyway:

Meditation 136

Hold his sickness
in your hands
and bear on your shoulders
death’s strange knowledge.

When you find the words
you came for,
hurry back
to where your heart lies,

carrying the light
in the circle
of your arms:
your last and clearest hope.

Have spent a very enjoyable morning on the golf course with Marian – we both played well but not, sadly, as well as last week. However, I have to say that my putting was rather good – unexpectedly so. Can’t imagine why that should be but, hey, I’m not complaining. We were accompanied round by that distinctive trill of chaffinch song (in case you don’t know, it’s the long phrase of notes which usually ends with three little notes in a high-low-high trio that can sound like the bird is saying “ginger beer”) – but the usual woodpecker was missing. Ah well, you can’t have it all.

Back home, the marvellous Lynda has come to cut my hair, so I can now see out (very useful for golf) and I’ve spent the rest of the day getting to the final stage of the great Gathandrian war in Hallsfoot’s Battle. I have to convey the fourth and last legend and somehow intersperse it with the Gathandrians’ attempts to rescue Simon and the mind-executioner as they slug it out regardless. Hmm, no pressure then. Mustn’t forget the snow-raven either – I’ve left him rather up in the air (always a good place for a raven really, of any colour) and will have to give him something useful to do at some point. If only I could remember where exactly he was right now. I think I’ll make that tomorrow’s problem though – after all, Gathandria wasn’t (re-)built in a day.

I’ve now read the first of the Vulpes Libris book review package which arrived last week, which happened to be Jill Dawson’s novel about Rupert Brooke, called The Great Lover. As I’ll be writing a review for Vulpes, I won’t reveal much about it now, except to say that I was much amused to see two brief mentions of my grandfather, Justin Brooke (no relation), who was at Cambridge with Rupert and one of his neo-pagan set. He’s charmingly dismissed as “the Brooke Bond Tea Boy” – which probably says it all, hey ho. Still, it’s better than how Justin is described in Nigel Jones’ biography of the great Rupert. There, my less-than-illustrious ancestor is described as a young man who at Cambridge “continued to devote most of his energy to the stage, often playing female parts, to which his clean-cut, boyish good looks and 22-inch wasp-waist predisposed him.” Really, my dears, perhaps Dawson let us all off lightly. If you think too deeply about it, it’s probably an astonishment I’m here at all. Hell, no wonder I write what I do – it’s in the genes. Anyone for a cuppa?…

Tonight, I shall watch Have I Got News for You? and the last episode of Reggie Perrin, but I must video the Sheila Hancock poetry programme for watching later. It looks interesting for sure.

And, finally, after being gently castigated by the good Tony for failing to mention this in yesterday’s Nice Things List (look below, Tony!), another special mention must go to Lord H for a second toothpaste pre-squeezed onto toothbrush moment today – what a marital hero that man is! I really will start a new tube soon.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Golf
3. Haircuts
4. Writing Hallsfoot
5. Books – and strange grandfathers
6. TV
7. Marital toothpaste moments! See – I remembered!

Anne Brooke – wondering why the hell nobody inherited that wasp-waist, sigh …
Cancer Research Race for Life – helping the nation’s health

Gin, grief and medicine

My first review as a fully-fledged Book Fox for the Vulpes Libris review site is now up and is the gloriously dark and deliciously chewy Kill-Grief by Caroline Rance. Read and enjoy – it’s a classy book.

Speaking of words, I must say how utterly wonderful yesterday’s programme on Milton’s Paradise Lost turned out to be. I was gripped. Even Lord H was gripped and expressed a desire to read the great poem afterwards (even though he hates poetry) – well gosh! We were all gripped. Full marks to that unexpectedly dark, rich and passionate presenter, Armando Iannucci, for telling it how it is and letting Milton’s astonishing words live and breathe to the full. It was electrifying television and if any of you were unfortunate enough to miss it, do please rush off now and activate your BBC2 i-players. It’ll be the best hour of factual TV you’ve seen in a long, long time. Now if only they’d hired Iannucci to present the John Donne programme as well, then that would have been absolutely perfect too.

I was also amused – and strangely heartened – to hear that when Milton (after about 20 years of writing it) finally got round to publishing Paradise Lost, the two initial reactions he received were (a) “Did you realise it doesn’t rhyme and that’s not very commercial?” – from his publisher; and (b) “It’s all very nice, but why didn’t you write about paradise regained?” – from his best friend. Ye gods, and there was I thinking I was hard done by as a writer … It’s enough to make you want to take your trusty quill pen and poke their eyes out with it. As Iannucci said: how rude!

Tying nicely in to matters spiritual, here’s this morning’s poem:

Meditation 135

Midday heat.
The scent of water
on the skin.
The waiting air.

A woman walks,
framed in sunlight,
towards a man
she has never known

and known for ever
while words rest
by the well
under the tongue

as the moment turns.

Oh, and I must say that I’ve been desperately squeezing the last of my toothpaste out of the tube in increasingly vigorous efforts over the last couple of days whilst accompanied by suitable swearing at modern manufacturers – I do so hate waste – but this morning after Lord H had left for work, I dragged myself to the bathroom and found that – yes! – he’d already squeezed it out for me onto the toothbrush to save me the effort and left brush & paste balanced on the flannel. What a super-hero indeed. Of such gloriously miniature moments is a modern marriage made …

This morning, I’ve added more to that last battle scene of Hallsfoot’s Battle and I think they’re working towards closure now. I know roughly in my head what’s going to happen (which is, as you know, rare), who will die and who won’t. I feel quieter and less desperate about it at the moment – a good thing for sure – and the panic to get to the end has faded slightly. So I’m taking it as it comes and trying to write what I think needs to be written. I hope, eh.

So, I reckon I’ve deserved my Clarins massage this afternoon – it was bliss as ever. The only thing was at the end I realised (which I did know about but I’d forgotten, shame on me …) that it was my last session with Hilary as she’s leaving for pastures new and next time I’ll be seeing Alice. I felt suitably traumatised for having forgotten and not having bought Hilary a leaving present – honestly, I am indeed crystallising into a self-centred, thoughtless slapper in my middle years. My mother was right after all then, hey ho. Sometimes I forget that there’s a world beyond my own head, sigh …

Anyway, back home, I briefly caught up with the neighbour who’s now out of hospital and looking stronger, double hurrahs. I’ve then spent the rest of the day improving on the book trailer for The Bones of Summer - it’s been niggling at me for weeks so today I’ve gone in, knocked it around a bit, added another image and got the music to end where I want it to, just about. I’m keeping that trailer under wraps for the moment as the novel isn’t out until the middle of June, but watch this space. I’ve also been adding a Vulpes Libris page to my website, which took some time as I forget to update the actual link whilst putting it in (sorry, techno talk, sorry …) so had to go back over each page and do it again. I think it’s right now though, but if you do see something odd – well, odder than usual on my site – please do let me know. I’ll be most grateful.

Tonight, Lord H and I will be glued to Springwatch, and then it’s Graham Norton for me. I’m such a classy broad. Oh, and – stop press! – Surrey actually has news, ye gods and little fishes, which you can find out about here. Well, gosh indeedy. News in Surrey that doesn’t happen on a Friday – how rare! Who knows: it might therefore even be possible for the Surrey Advertiser to put it on its front page tomorrow in the right week for once. We wait and wonder.

Today’s nice things:

1. Caroline Rance’s kick-ass wonderful book
2. Milton programme
3. Poetry
4. Writing Hallsfoot
5. Clarins massage
6. Book trailer updates
7. Website work
8. Happy neighbours
9. TV.

Anne Brooke – knows a good book when she sees one
Cancer Research Race for Life – still time to give!

The photocopying queen and poetry thoughts

Had real trouble getting anything out of this morning’s meditation, but here it is – such as it is – anyway: 

Meditation 134

Too many words
for me to carve
a journey through;

the meaning buzzes
round my ears
but does not penetrate

skin.
I stand immune
to wax, honey

or any memory
of the glorious hive
and must walk, today,

blinded.

And, while I’m thinking of words, I must say that yesterday’s programme about John Donne was glorious in the sense that you get the man and his poetry – but who the heck was the idiot who decided that Fiona Shaw would be the best person to read Donne’s work??? Don’t get me wrong – I love Fiona Shaw. She’s a marvellously intellectual actress and I have a lot of time for her. But that’s just it – she’s intellectual and a woman. Donne’s poetry (whilst of course being intellectual) is straight-down-the-line passionate, physical and out-and-out male. It should have been read by someone like Antony Sher. He could have given it the welly and oomph it needed. Sigh.

Anyway, this morning I have been photocopying for Britain and sorting out next week’s potential disaster areas. Apart from that, it’s been hugely quiet in the office – which is nice but dull: Chaplaincy Ruth and Andrea are on half-term as usual, the boss and Ruth are on courses, so in the big room there’s only me. I think I might do a Scottish jig at some point and see if anyone notices. Mind you, the builder is around putting up shelves and dealing with our clock, so I don’t want to frighten him away …

At lunchtime, I braved the rain and walked into town – mainly to get a key cut and try to see if I have any money left. Surely it must be pay day soon? Oh, tomorrow: hurrah.

Tonight, I’ll pop into Gladys on the way home and run the gauntlet of her existential but ultimately ineffectual fury that I should dare to visit at all, and then it’s the joys of Springwatch and a programme on Milton. I hope they get someone more suited to Milton’s poetry to read it this time. We live in hope, eh. In the meantime, I continue on with my strangely intense short story about letters and deceit. And I’ve written a poem about teaspoons, as you do. Hey ho.

Also this evening, I’m taking part in the Eternal Press authors chat at the Rites of Romance Yahoo Group, so I’ve posted various details about and an extract from Painting from Life there and hope they enjoy the read. Plus Sophia who runs the group has got some excellent questions for us all, so I’ve enjoyed answering those – thanks, Sophia!

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Programmes about poets (no matter who reads the work, I’m grateful it’s there at all)
3. TV
4. Short stories
5. Chatting about Painting from Life.

Anne Brooke – pondering poetry
Cancer Research Race for Life – improving women’s health

A five-star review and murder will out …

Am thrilled to say that the Rainbow Reviews site have givenPainting from Life a five-star rating and their comments are hereand below:

“This short story is lyrical, fluid, and quietly unsettling; the style perfectly suited to its subject ~ an artist’s obsession, the end of a marriage, the evolution of a relationship between elderly Peter and the unnamed protagonist that defies classification. That relationship is intense, deep-rooted, life-changing, but every attempt to label it is rejected ~ the artist denies that it is sexual, Peter denies that it is filial, but the two of them are drawn together, their lives entwining to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. A masterful piece of writing, and a haunting story that lingers in my memory.”

Many thanks indeed, RR – much appreciated! Talking of writing, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 133

A power given
only to be yielded

to the one
you look for.

Sometimes it is a yoke
to weigh you down,

a sword at your head
to threaten you.

Dark nights
and needy voices

fill your every thought
as you wait

for the only thing
you have known:

moonlit desert;
the singing breeze;

bitter taste of locust
on your tongue.

I seem to be getting rather more involved in the Gospel of John than I’d anticipated – it’s opening up more for me than I thought it would, so far anyway. Let’s see what happens tomorrow though.

At work, I’m catching up on emails and filing. Odd how that dream of the paperless office never came to much – I still have enough files to blockade in the whole of Senate House, should it come to that.

Took the University Writers Group at lunchtime – the last one of the academic term, though we do still have a July date to look forward to. I decided to play a game with the gang involving either powerful jobs or illicit post (the mail variety) today, and I think it went all right. They were certainly lively anyway, and we had a couple of new people, both of which is good. However, I must admit my head is still full of the mammoth weekend edit of The Bones of Summer, so it’s tricky to live in the real world right now. I’ll miss Paul and Craig, now their story arc is done.

Tonight, I’m on the shopping run (groan …) and then it’s the joys of Springwatch (how can we have survived without it for so long??) – I’m hoping for a glimpse of a polecat and more baby bird feeding. It brings out the compassionate side of me, you know – which doesn’t happen often, so one must make the most of it. Oh, and there’s a programme on about John Donne, which I must watch. What a fantastic poet and an utterly fascinating man. I can’t wait.

Finally, it’s true what they say about murder will out … Much to our general shock & awe, the photographs of our recent Egypt Gang murder mystery weekend are now on the hotel website and can be found (prepare yourselves, folks …) here and here. By George, Carruthers – I think they arrested the wrong people …

Today’s nice things:

1. A five-star review of Painting from Life
2. Poetry
3. University Writers Group
4. TV
5. Photographs of some very strange people …

Anne Brooke – making plans to leave the country, fast …
Cancer Research Race for Life – helping fight cancer

The Bones edit and the Surrey County Show

Apologies for the very brief list-like blog today, but due to copious editing I am time-poor. As they say. 

First off though, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 132

In the night
something draws him

to a space
where questions

can be asked
and answers

not truly given,
hearing instead

a flow of words
that sparkle and shift

like moonlight:
fragile, beautiful

and just out of reach.

Beyond that, I have done the following:

1. Completed the final edit of The Bones of Summer and returned it to Dreamspinner Press. Pause for general rejoicing!

2. Lord H and I have had a whistle-stop tour of the Surrey County Show and admired the donkeys and rather bizarre flower arrangements. Does nobody believe in sticking them into vases of water any more? (Flowers, not donkeys …)

I will also do the below:

1. Watch Springwatch on TV (in 20 mins and we haven’t eaten yet, or made a shopping list for this week or done the recycling, so you can see my problem).

2. Watch Ashes to Ashes.

3. Attempt to get my normal non-editing life hat on ready for the rest of the working week. Wish me luck!

Today’s nice things:

1. Finishing the Bones edit
2. Poetry
3. Surrey County Show
4. TV.

Anne Brooke – packing it all in in record time, one hopes …
Cancer Research Race for Life – helping people live

The glory of the edit and the joys of Spock

I am being organised and focused today, or trying to. Ho hum. But I must admit that when I’m seriously editing, the rest of my life does rather get put on hold. However, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 131

The price of commitment
is blood
and torn flesh,

something given
willingly
by the one

who wants to stay;
sometimes the open road
does not enchant us.

We’ve also managed to show our faces at church this morning, and what wonderful belting hymns we had today. Ah, they don’t make them like they used to, you know. There’s something about All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name that really stirs the blood – the perfect processional hymn indeed. To the right tune of course, not (sadly) the one that appears to be on the web, sigh … Also a pleasure to have in the pew behind us an old man who had the most glorious baritone singing voice – like listening to a torrent of the best honey pouring over a mountain. He turned out to be a retired bishop (of all things), so good to know the church can occasionally, even these days, make a good musical choice.

For most of the rest of the morning and all this evening, I’ve been working away on the final edits to The Bones of Summer, and am now proudly at the start of Chapter 16, page 110 (of 192 pages), so am pleased with how it’s gone so far. And I’m learning a huge amount about how different the American language and spelling is to the UK’s. It’s an eye-opener for sure. Though it is exhausting.

I’ve also continued to take part in the online gay fiction celebration weekend at the Literary Nymphs Yahoo Group, and have posted a second, rather more intense excerpt of Painting from Life, and erotic extracts of both A Dangerous Man and Maloney’s Law. The response has been positive, so that’s a relief (as it were).

But the BIG EXCITEMENT of today is that I have finally, finally, finally gone to see the new Star Trek film with Lord H, and I have to say it is utterly and incredibly brilliant. I loved it and can’t recommend it to you highly enough! I have fallen in love with Spock all over again, and the whole thing was clever and witty and sharp and warm. Not to mention very very exciting. Great stuff. The moment the DVD comes out, I’m there with my purse open, geared up to watch it all over again. If you haven’t gone to see it – and even if you don’t like Star Trek – just go. It’ll be worth it.

This week’s haiku is:

You unknit the day
so it falls like bright raindrops
on my weary skin.

Oh, and while I’m thinking about it, a BIG thank you to all you wonderful people who’ve donated to the Cancer Research Race for Life - it’s very much appreciated and the team is very grateful for your continuing generosity. It’s stunning.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Good hymns
3. Editing Bones for publication
4. Gay fiction chats
5. Star Trek!
6. Haikus
7. People’s Race for Life generosity.

Anne Brooke – waiting for the mother ship to summon her home …
Cancer Research Race for Life – helping those with cancer

Stories, Bones, birds and chat

I’m very happy to say that Cynic Magazine have accepted my short story, An Unholy Affair, for publication in August, hurrah! Always good to have something to look forward to over the summer is what I say. Meanwhile, the good people at Dreamspinner Press have emailed me the final edits to The Bones of Summer, so that’s what I’ll be working on over the next few days.

Anyway, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 130

It is not the gathering
that pierces you

but the letting go,
the rediscovery

of spaces
you had thought

were filled forever
when coin, flesh,

feather vanish
and only your voice remains,

unprotected, unsung.

For most of today, Lord H and I have been freewheeling across the country watching birds. Our first port of call was the Arundel Wetland Centre where we went warbler-mad. We managed to spot a willow warbler, a reed warbler and a sedge warbler – all three new birds for this year, hurrah! Plus there were dozens of baby ducklings, baby coots, baby moorhens and baby Canada geese, etc etc. So very pleasing indeed. Also pleasing was the marvellous slice of chocolate cake we had for lunch, which seemed to cure the headache I spent most of the morning nursing, thank the Lord. On the way home, we also had a quick spin round Pulborough Brooks where we added a another bird to the “New Birds This Year” List – a little egret – one of my favourites.

Back at the ranch, I’ve been involved in not one, not two, but three author marketing virtual events. First off, Rites of Romance Chattershave been hosting an Eternal Press authors’ day, so I’ve been marketing Painting from Life at that.

Secondly, Love Romances Cafe has been hosting an event for writers of GLBT (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender) fiction, so I’ve been talking about Painting from Life, A Dangerous Man andMaloney’s Law there.

Thirdly and finally, Literary Nymphs Chat have started their three-day m/m (male/male) fiction event, so I’ve posted information on my work there too. Tomorrow, I think I’ll do another posting, probably with a greater emphasis on sex and sensuality (hey, a great almost-title for another Austen novel there, I think!), as both are of course ideal for Sundays …

Tonight, I’ll be glued to Primeval, in between making sure all my literary balls (as it were) remain in the air for as long as possible. A writer’s life is certainly never dull, eh!

Today’s nice things:

1. An Unholy Affair being accepted for publication
2. Getting the final edits for The Bones of Summer
3. Poetry
4. Birds
5. Three virtual author events!
6. TV.

Anne Brooke – juggling for Britain
Cancer Research Race for Life – aiming to raise £300 before 6 June!

A less than confident woman and a good review

I’ve now read Ingrid Trobisch’s book, The Confident Woman (sub-title: Finding Quiet Strength in a Turbulent World). To be honest, I was hoping to get more from it than I actually have, but in fact it’s been rather a struggle. Her particular brand of Christianity seems so terribly wholesome and irritatingly pure that those of us (such as myself) who are limping along sullied by the mud and grit of the world (and undoubtedly rather enjoying that same mud and grit even) can never hope to keep up. At times the book made me feel as if I wasn’t a real Christian at all, and at other times I felt like giving it a thorough shake whilst screaming: ‘For God’s sake, woman, that’s not how my life is!’Oh how I long for a real book about spirituality for real women that relates to where we are and where we’re likely to stay. I feel I might be waiting some time though. Sigh.

That said, there were a couple of points towards the end where I feel that Trobisch did say something I could relate to. There was a good section about taking time and stopping, and also about having patience with ourselves, that I felt was worthwhile. I spend a large part of my life being hugely impatient with myself and trying to handle a head that fires off with all sorts of ideas and thoughts and worries in all sorts of directions all the time, so the concept of how to relax is a total mystery that I definitely need to uncover. She also startled me in her section on the prayer-filled life by using the quote from Isaiah 30:15: In quietness and confidence shall be your strength. Yes, an obvious one for this type of book, I know, but it’s something someone said to me a long time ago in one of those moments out of time when everything in your life goes still. And I haven’t forgotten it, though mainly it lives in the back of my mind and I’ve always failed to live up to it. So maybe the book was worth it just for that reminder.

Whilst on matters spiritual (of a sort), here’s today’s meditation poem:

Meditation 129

When the laughter thins
and the joy

is something
you can only remember,

not taste,
then feel on your skin

the cool promise
of water

and what might lie
within it.

I’ve had one of my poems, Surrender, published by Eat A Peach Poetry Journal and you can find it in their latest issue, though you’ll need to scroll down to see it. I’m also thrilled to say that Painting from Life has gained a good review at the Obsidian Bookshelf, so thank you, Val, for that. Very much appreciated. 

This morning, I’ve managed to get out and play golf with Marian, which was fabulous. The weather was stunning (I even took my jumper off, well gosh) and we both played better than our usual level of game. Which was also fabulous, hurrah. My swing seemed much freer today (if I dare type such a line …), so let’s hope that trend continues. This afternoon, I had my Alexander Technique class, which I’ve missed over the last couple of weeks, so my back now feels much less scrunched up than it’s been recently, thank the Lord.

Meanwhile, I’m continuing with those final scenes of Hallsfoot’s Battle and I think Simon’s at last got the hang of it all. Or he’s got the hang of something anyway. About time too. He and the mind-cane may yet be friends. You never know. Though the mind-executioner may still have a few tricks up his sleeve. If he was currently wearing a sleeve, that is.

Keeping on the subject of books, I’m not sure that the hugely talentedMark Wagstaff has quite convinced me with his latest offering, In Sparta. Not that it’s not an immensely powerful tale about bombs and the city – it is. And not that it’s not sharply and powerfully written – it is. Mark’s a genius with the pen, if you like dark, gritty and painful. And he’s amazingly truthful about how it really is at work (this year’s best lines about office life: ‘Sometimes, my only ambition was to pick loose skin off my fingers till it was painful and dry.’ and ‘I was always horrified to learn what my role would be.’ Oh yes, yes and yes. Welcome to the world of the office …). But the rather gross (and I use that word advisedly) sex scene did, I admit, put me off at a time I desperately needed to be kept within the story – I’m not sure it was necessary in quite that manner, though it was of course well written. I don’t object to having main characters have sex with prostitutes (hell, I’ve written about prostitution myself), but it was the type of sex that went on that pushed me out of the world he was creating. And that’s a danger writers should always be wary of. Normal sex would have been fine! Alongside that, I didn’t quite get the character of Terri. The change between who we think she is and who she actually is possibly arrived too suddenly and, again, it made me feel uninvolved. Still, the story itself is a cracker, and Wagstaff’s always worth watching.

Tonight, I’m looking forward to Have I Got News For You? and Reggie Perrin, whilst of course keeping a close video eye on the last episode of Boy Meets Girl. Ooh, and there’s pizza and ice cream. What could be nicer?

Today’s nice things:

1. Books, however they make you think
2. Poetry
3. Surrender being published
4. A good review for Painting from Life
5. Golf
6. Writing Hallsfoot
7. TV.

Anne Brooke – still puzzling over confidence and faith …
Cancer Research Race for Life – meeting our target but hoping for more!