The long and the short of it

Elizabeth Baines (fellow member of Bookarazzi) aka Fiction Bitch is a wonderful writer and one of those people I've been happy to have moved from my virtual life into my real one.

But being clever and talented doesn't always mean you get the recognition you deserve.

So I'm absolutely delighted to announce that Elizabeth's beautifully crafted book of short stories, Balancing on the Edge of the World, has been long listed for the Frank O'Connor Short Story Award!

Way to go, Elizabeth. It couldn't happen to a nicer person.
I'm doing the reflected glory and basking thing here ...

A Virtual Prayer

Dear Lord of the Cyberverse,

I guess you must be bored or something.
That's the only reason I can think of to explain why you've seen fit to start that irritating nonsense with my emails.
Again.

Yes, I have contacted you before about this.
And no I'm not going to bother searching back to find the links.

I'm sure you must have better things to do than to hold onto my emails and play with them.
Don't you know how much trouble this can cause?
I send them off and then wait for replies that never come.

Then I'm contacted by people who say they guess I didn't receive their mail and I have to say that I did and I replied ages ago.
Then, just for an extra giggle, you sometimes (but not always - huh, you're so crafty) bounce them back to me a week or so later.

I really really don't have time for this.
I have a barmitzvah to stress over.

Take pity on me please.

Virtual love,

Debi x

And if anyone reading this has wondered why I haven't responded to them, I almost definitely have!
Honest!
Just ask the Lord ...

Literally literary alliteration

I do love a good lit launch.

Throw in some blogmates and fellow Bookarazzi buddies (a Disgruntled Commuter, Emma Darwin and Sarah Salway and maybe some others) and a book by Sally Hinchcliffe and my cup runneth over.

This is where I'm going later today.

Truth or Dare

I've never bought a property, so my personal experience of estate agents is limited to their reputation for twisting the truth.

So I was surprised yesterday to see an ad in a window describing a house as 'smells like an ashtray'.

Did they have an attack of conscience?
Had they swallowed some sort of truth serum?

Imagine if such a thing existed ...
It could be force fed to lying politicians, cheating partners, manipulative bosses, flattering friends ...
Though I wonder sometimes if it's better not to know ...

Lemon Aid

Mr Lemon (spouse of Meloney and not in the slightest bit anorak-y) came round recently bearing a pc which he's kindly set up for FB to do his homework on.

Mr L is a great fan of Linux open source software - free, efficient and safe as well as a challenge to the Microsoft monopoly - so I'm spreading the karma a bit further with a mention here.

Anyway, as we live in a very small and very cluttered space, the arrival of the new equipment has necessitated a clear out.

We now have 2 dead Playstations and some other odd bits of defunct techy toy hardware to dispose of.
I can't bear to just chuck them in the bin/landfill.
Anyone know of an eco-friendly way to dispose of them?

Piping up again

Regular visitors to this blog will probably recall me gushing on previous occasions about Pipe & Slippers, south London's premier literary and music event.
(See here for the post re last November and here's the latest re the one in February.)

The next event is nearly here and is scheduled for 1st June.

P&S is fast approaching cult status.
Come along so you can say you were there in the early days ...

Check the website for details.

Have you been ripped off?

OK - this is the scenario.

A friend tells you they've seen a chunk of your blog reproduced in a national paper.

Do you:

a) Jump up and down in glee at the unexpected publicity
b) Wonder why they didn't have the decency to at least inform you
c) Rant because they should have asked for your permission before using your words
d) Immediately bung an invoice in the post demanding payment?

I have a confession to make here.
When I found out last year that the Guardian had quoted my blog post re Hay, I was really pleased.
It never occurred to me that the way this happened was out of order.

Well, never let it be said that I don't have the courage to admit when I'm in the wrong.

This articulate post by Zoe Margolis on Comment is Free is what persuaded me.

A Day Like No Other

Doncha just love it when life presents you with new and different experiences?
This was me yesterday ...

a.m.
We arrive at the synagogue soon after 8.00.
Here's how 2 people, working in unison like a well-oiled machine, cook 10 filleted and skinned salmon:
Wash each fillet. Season both sides with salt, black pepper, lemon pepper, onion powder, dried onions and lemon juice. Smear on a little mayonnaise. Sprinkle with fresh thyme. Place fillet on silicone paper and sandwich matching seasoned fillet on top. Wrap loosely in heavy duty tin foil parcel allowing enough space for air to circulate. Cook in relays - half hour in medium oven.

p.m.
We go to the park for some chill out time.

A family near us groan as their remote control plane gets stuck in a tree.
'I'll get it!' says G, leaping to the rescue.
He throws our football at the plane with unerring aim.
Once. Twice. On the 3rd attempt the ball hits the plane ...
... And lodges snugly in the branches cuddled up next to it.

'It's OK,' G yells, grabbing our cricket bat.
But at 6'4" and with LG on his shoulders, even the combined height of my partner and son are insufficient to reach.

'No problem,' G says, undeterred.
He'll use the cricket bat as a javelin and knock both the trapped ball and plane down.
Once. Twice. On the 3rd attempt the bat shoots into the branches with deadly accuracy...
... And snuggles up cheek by jowl next to its comrades.

By this time we've attracted quite a sizable crowd of gawpers.
And I'm laughing so hard my poor pelvic floor muscles are begging for mercy as G and the other guy attempt to rock the tree.



It takes a passing light, lithe and fearless teenager to clamber up the tree and spare my man from further embarrassment (and me too according to my bladder).

Evening
Back to the synagogue to transfer the salmon from fridge to freezer.
Another task crossed off my list(s).

Bad dream

In my dream it's Sunday morning.
I wake up ...
Today's the day I've organised to cook and freeze 70lbs of salmon at the synagogue with the help of a friendly friend.

Only - we've forgotten to pick up the salmon the evening before.

I wake up, shrieking.
'Argh! We've forgotten to pick up the fish ...!'

Only it's not Sunday morning - it's Friday.
And we haven't forgotten.
Yet.

First Born's barmitzvah - 4 wks and counting ...

UPDATE: No, it's 5 weeks and counting. Doh! Scrambled brain ....

The Book Cook

Having recently finished The Gene Pool, I've just begun to cook a new character and plot.

Karen Townsend would be known as Kaz by her friends.
If she had any.
A woman with a tragic past gradually revealed in a series of flashbacks, Karen finds it difficult to engage with other people.
Her vivid Virtual Life is a lot more interesting.
But when a sinister stalker makes the terrifying leap from cyberspace into Real Life Karen has to decide how hard she's prepared to fight to stay alive.

I haven't started writing Karen's story yet, but she's moved in and I'm getting to know her.

Watch this space ...

Debi and her Dad. Part 14

Dad's lost 3 sticks.
Actually, that's not strictly accurate.
He's lost 3 sticks several times, but until recently either Big Bro or myself was able to track them down.

I think he takes one out with him, then when he's at the tills in the supermarket he leans the stick against the counter and walks off without it.
(You'd think someone would notice, wouldn't you ...?)
Sub-consciously he probably doesn't accept he really needs it.
OTOH, he knows he's frail and is really scared of falling again.

Anyway, in spite of labeling the last one with his address, that one too has now disappeared without trace.

I had a stick myself, dating back to when I had a series of operations on my knee 25 yrs ago, so I took that one round to him yesterday.
It felt very strange carrying it across London.
It didn't fit into my bag, so I alternated holding it in front of me like a banner with hanging it over my shoulder.
Even so, I found it hard not to limp.

I've taped another 'Please return to ...' label on it with his address and my mobile no and left it with him.

I kept it for 25 yrs.
What do you reckon is the likelihood of him hanging onto it for 25 days?

We're wheely lucky

Where would we be without friends?
Certainly not any place I'd like to be ...

I was really sad recently when good buddy N (who I've known for nearly 25 yrs through all our ups and downs) returned to Jamaica to live.
I'm so delighted for her, but it goes without saying that I miss her.
She's one of those wonderful people who's always there for you and she has a knack of sorting things out just at the point you thought they couldn't possibly be sorted.

When we came back from Cornwall last week, there was a message on the answer machine from her.
'Hi,' came her familiar tones. 'Only me. Just phoning to see how you are. I'll call again soon.'

And a couple of days later she did.
I told her the sorry tale of Helga's demise.
'We're selling our old Mondeo,' she said. 'It's outside N&D's place in Addington. P reg, MOT to Oct, tax to end of August. £150.'

So this morning we set off on 2 long bus rides.
And came back in our new car!!!

Follow the Leader

I sometimes think I give more bloggy attention to First Born than to Little Guy.

So ...

... LG has been involved with a programme at school called Young Sport Leaders.
Following some intensive training, they have been working with the other children in the playground, organising activities like circus skills, speed stacking, football training etc.

This week's school newsletter included this:

'Six of these children demonstrated 'exceptional leadership skills' during their training and will soon be taken to Grangewaters Outdoor Education Centre to further develop their abilities.'

And LG was one of them.
(I have no idea where he learned to be so bossy!)

No fears for the future of film

Remember I told you about the film First Born and his friends made with Cineclub?

Well, they've done it again.

Yesterday, together with films by 10 other school Cineclubs, their latest production was screened at the National Film Theatre on the South Bank.

Their first film, Retribution at School, was a dark depiction of bullying, violence and death.

This time they decided to go more upbeat with a 'mockumentary' of the making of their previous film.
The Making of Retribution is the result.
(If you haven't already done so, I suggest watching the original film first.)

Having edited over 2 hrs of footage into a 5 min film, I think they've come up with a production Ricky Gervais would wholeheartedly approve of.

The overall standard of all 11 films was very high indeed.
The graduates, all aged between 11 & 15, are now qualified to teach film-making skills to others.

The future of the British film industry is bright!

DIY has never been easier

See this post from Danuta Kean re self-publishing.
It may be from her archives but it's still relevant.

Take heart - it may be harder than ever to get that elusive deal, but it's also true that there have never been so many other ways of getting your words out there.

Just watch out for pirates ...