I've realised it's been a long time since I posted about what's happening with my own writing.
Truth is, my current book - the 5th in the Nirvana series - has taken longer than any of the others for a complex set of reasons.
What I needed was a boost.
Something to reassure me that I'm not wasting time with my creations.
That there are people out there who care about my characters and want to see more of them.
And - hey - thank you, life, because yesterday I received a wonderful email from fellow blogger and Bookarazzi pal, Zinnia Cyclamen.
I read Nirvana Bites on Wednesday evening, and Trading Tatiana this afternoon. (Er, yes, quick reader.) And now I want to read the next two! I loved them both ... because they're damn good books. I thought the characters were original and delightful. I like the way you don't make heavy weather out of their damagedness, but weave it into the story as and when it's relevant to what's going on, rather than beating the reader over the head with it. I loved some of the cameos like the Rasta guy in Trading Tatiana.
Trading Tatiana seemed, and I hope you don't mind me saying this, more accomplished than Nirvana Bites; more as if you knew what you were about. (Although I did really like Nirvana Bites too, honest - and I love the energy and the humour and the humanity in both books.) And, again, although I learned a lot about human trafficking, I didn't feel as if you were beating me around the head with the Issues, but telling me a very human story.
I really liked the way you made Trading Tatiana a kind of sequel that wasn't entirely a sequel, with a different main character and, initially, a different setting. I was interested to see how you dealt with backstory from Nirvana Bites so that Trading Tatiana could be read as a book in its own right but also worked as a sequel. You made it look easy. I bet it wasn't! But for me as a reader, it worked really well.
So, anyway, thanks for writing them!
Right! I'm on the home run of the 1st draft of The Gene Pool now and it's whispering insistently in my ear again.
Thanks for giving me such a well-timed and motivating kick up the rear, Zinnia!
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
Peckham - the centre of the literary universe
Just look at what I've stumbled on.
Peckham. Gangs; council estates; the odd drive-by shooting. Oh, and Del-Boy – let’s not forget Del-Boy.
And then more recently an award-winning upside-down library, and some very fetching rusty bollards. Regeneration.
Hmmm. If that’s what you think, then you’re awfully out of date. The cognoscenti know better (‘cos by definition that’s what cognoscenti do). Peckham really is Britain’s number one creative hotspot, with artists’ colonies breaking out all over the place, heaving with thesps and musicians, and of course writers.
And it is these latter that this festival is all about – from the authors and poets who live in the area currently, to those who have drawn inspiration from the area in some way over the centuries. Actually, it is about any old literature, so long as it is good. It is a celebration of books and words and Peckham, all rolled into one.
I wish I'd known about it earlier.
As an author whose books are all set in Peckham, this festival is right up my street in more ways than three.
The eclectic list of events, ensures there will be something for everyone.
The festival runs from 14-18 November.
See you there?
Peckham. Gangs; council estates; the odd drive-by shooting. Oh, and Del-Boy – let’s not forget Del-Boy.
And then more recently an award-winning upside-down library, and some very fetching rusty bollards. Regeneration.
Hmmm. If that’s what you think, then you’re awfully out of date. The cognoscenti know better (‘cos by definition that’s what cognoscenti do). Peckham really is Britain’s number one creative hotspot, with artists’ colonies breaking out all over the place, heaving with thesps and musicians, and of course writers.
And it is these latter that this festival is all about – from the authors and poets who live in the area currently, to those who have drawn inspiration from the area in some way over the centuries. Actually, it is about any old literature, so long as it is good. It is a celebration of books and words and Peckham, all rolled into one.
I wish I'd known about it earlier.
As an author whose books are all set in Peckham, this festival is right up my street in more ways than three.
The eclectic list of events, ensures there will be something for everyone.
The festival runs from 14-18 November.
See you there?
Friday, November 02, 2007
URGENT! INSANITY ALERT! ACT NOW!
I've just received a vital email (lucky this one got through) alerting me to this.
Scroll down past the items about litter, chewing gum and public toilets and go to page 14.
It is proposed to prohibit the distribution of free refreshments on land designated by a London borough council. It would also be an offence to cause another person to distribute such refreshments. To be designated, land would have to be in the open air, and open to public access. Unlawful distribution of free food would be an offence, and would be liable on summary conviction to a fine not exceeding level 4 on the standard scale. Exemptions would be included, for example, the distribution of refreshments to people taking part in sporting events or giving out free samples outside retail premises. Comments are welcome on the proposal to prohibit the distribution of free refreshments in designated areas.
In case you're having any problems getting to grips with the meaning behind this bureaucratic blurb, they're talking about banning soup kitchens for homeless people!
The deadline for registering comments is TODAY!
Please, please, please email oliver.hatch@londoncouncils.gov.uk
You can use this template below or create an email of your own.
Dear Oliver,
I'm writing concerning the proposal to restrict the distribution of 'free refreshments' as contained in the "Proposals for a tenth (London Local Authorities) Bill" for Deposit in November 2007.
I am concerned by the lack of recognition of the important role that organisations wishing to assist the homeless have. In addition to the premises-based services on offer to homeless people, such 'refreshments' or 'soup-kitchens' provide an essential supplementary service to homeless and destitute individuals. Soup kitchens enable distribution of food without expensive overheads.
I would urge London Councils to completely drop this proposed legislation, or to substantially modify it to allow services to continue without causing undue disturbance to nearby premises.
[Suggest your own solution - e.g. a license.]
[Give your own story about how you may have helped homeless people, or about people you know who help]
I look forward to your response. I can be contacted on the details below.
Yours sincerely,
[your name]
[your address]
Scroll down past the items about litter, chewing gum and public toilets and go to page 14.
It is proposed to prohibit the distribution of free refreshments on land designated by a London borough council. It would also be an offence to cause another person to distribute such refreshments. To be designated, land would have to be in the open air, and open to public access. Unlawful distribution of free food would be an offence, and would be liable on summary conviction to a fine not exceeding level 4 on the standard scale. Exemptions would be included, for example, the distribution of refreshments to people taking part in sporting events or giving out free samples outside retail premises. Comments are welcome on the proposal to prohibit the distribution of free refreshments in designated areas.
In case you're having any problems getting to grips with the meaning behind this bureaucratic blurb, they're talking about banning soup kitchens for homeless people!
The deadline for registering comments is TODAY!
Please, please, please email oliver.hatch@londoncouncils.gov.uk
You can use this template below or create an email of your own.
Dear Oliver,
I'm writing concerning the proposal to restrict the distribution of 'free refreshments' as contained in the "Proposals for a tenth (London Local Authorities) Bill" for Deposit in November 2007.
I am concerned by the lack of recognition of the important role that organisations wishing to assist the homeless have. In addition to the premises-based services on offer to homeless people, such 'refreshments' or 'soup-kitchens' provide an essential supplementary service to homeless and destitute individuals. Soup kitchens enable distribution of food without expensive overheads.
I would urge London Councils to completely drop this proposed legislation, or to substantially modify it to allow services to continue without causing undue disturbance to nearby premises.
[Suggest your own solution - e.g. a license.]
[Give your own story about how you may have helped homeless people, or about people you know who help]
I look forward to your response. I can be contacted on the details below.
Yours sincerely,
[your name]
[your address]
I am here. Honestly.
Doh!
Am I the only one who has these stupid problems with my emails?
I've just received one from someone concerned that I hadn't replied to their previous one a couple of weeks ago.
But I did!
It's in my sent items list.
And it didn't bounce back.
So does this explain why I haven't had any response to various urgent emails I've sent recently?
Did they not get through?
Or did the replies to me not get through?
How come I never seem to have problems receiving spam? Over 50 items a day of the stuff?
Bloody bloody bloody techy stupidity.
UPDATE: And now bloody Blogger won't let me play either! I've just wasted an entire morning trying to comment on other people's blogs - without success. Doh and double doh!
Am I the only one who has these stupid problems with my emails?
I've just received one from someone concerned that I hadn't replied to their previous one a couple of weeks ago.
But I did!
It's in my sent items list.
And it didn't bounce back.
So does this explain why I haven't had any response to various urgent emails I've sent recently?
Did they not get through?
Or did the replies to me not get through?
How come I never seem to have problems receiving spam? Over 50 items a day of the stuff?
Bloody bloody bloody techy stupidity.
UPDATE: And now bloody Blogger won't let me play either! I've just wasted an entire morning trying to comment on other people's blogs - without success. Doh and double doh!
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Debi and her Dad. Part 7
I seem to have spread quite a bit of doom and gloom about the NHS with this series of posts.
But in essence - and compared to countries where the equivalent doesn't exist at all - it's a wonderful service and one we should never give up on, but must fight to maintain.
You see, sometimes things go RIGHT!
And it's nearly always down to the hard-working and committed people working within the system.
Yesterday dad went for his appointment to have a 24 hour tape fitted to monitor his heart.
Having failed to speak to anyone in Cardiology, I gave him a letter to take with him.
Early afternoon, I received a phone call from the Cardio Dept.
A very helpful woman told me the tape had been organised as a result of his recent falls.
She explained the procedure to me and said the tape could be removed a day later and a courier would call to collect it, to save dad having to come back to the hospital.
At 5.45 his carer called saying she could get no reply from dad's flat which was in darkness.
I phoned Patient Transport (heart racing a little) but no one answered.
I tried Cardio (heart a-flutter now) assuming there would be no chance of getting through.
Instead, a Real Live Human Being answered!
She called Transport herself and, when there was no reply, she sent a colleague round in person to check what time dad had been collected.
Meanwhile, she regularly came back to the phone to apologise for keeping me hanging on.
Finally she said there was no one in the Transport Dept but maybe the traffic was bad ...
She asked me to call her back to let her know what was going on.
Having no idea what else to try, I phoned dad (heart thudding).
And guess what - he answered, sounding chirpy and energetic!
Presumably he hadn't heard the doorbell ...
I said I'd be round the next day to deal with the tape.
'Tape? What tape?'
'The one on your chest!'
'Eh? There's nothing on my chest ... Apart from some hair. There's something in my pocket though ...'
'Oh. Right.' (Heart sinking.) 'Well don't worry. I'll come tomorrow and we can sort it out then.'
'You're coming tomorrow? Oh. Hang on. There's something stuck on my chest ...'
I call Cardio back to tell them I've tracked dad down and all is well.
'Oh, thank G-d!' the woman breathed.
You see?
She really cared.
Like the woman who had called earlier, spoke to me in a way that was both clear and helpful and organised the courier.
And the carer who was concerned enough to call and alert me to a possible problem.
What a difference people who care can make ...
But in essence - and compared to countries where the equivalent doesn't exist at all - it's a wonderful service and one we should never give up on, but must fight to maintain.
You see, sometimes things go RIGHT!
And it's nearly always down to the hard-working and committed people working within the system.
Yesterday dad went for his appointment to have a 24 hour tape fitted to monitor his heart.
Having failed to speak to anyone in Cardiology, I gave him a letter to take with him.
Early afternoon, I received a phone call from the Cardio Dept.
A very helpful woman told me the tape had been organised as a result of his recent falls.
She explained the procedure to me and said the tape could be removed a day later and a courier would call to collect it, to save dad having to come back to the hospital.
At 5.45 his carer called saying she could get no reply from dad's flat which was in darkness.
I phoned Patient Transport (heart racing a little) but no one answered.
I tried Cardio (heart a-flutter now) assuming there would be no chance of getting through.
Instead, a Real Live Human Being answered!
She called Transport herself and, when there was no reply, she sent a colleague round in person to check what time dad had been collected.
Meanwhile, she regularly came back to the phone to apologise for keeping me hanging on.
Finally she said there was no one in the Transport Dept but maybe the traffic was bad ...
She asked me to call her back to let her know what was going on.
Having no idea what else to try, I phoned dad (heart thudding).
And guess what - he answered, sounding chirpy and energetic!
Presumably he hadn't heard the doorbell ...
I said I'd be round the next day to deal with the tape.
'Tape? What tape?'
'The one on your chest!'
'Eh? There's nothing on my chest ... Apart from some hair. There's something in my pocket though ...'
'Oh. Right.' (Heart sinking.) 'Well don't worry. I'll come tomorrow and we can sort it out then.'
'You're coming tomorrow? Oh. Hang on. There's something stuck on my chest ...'
I call Cardio back to tell them I've tracked dad down and all is well.
'Oh, thank G-d!' the woman breathed.
You see?
She really cared.
Like the woman who had called earlier, spoke to me in a way that was both clear and helpful and organised the courier.
And the carer who was concerned enough to call and alert me to a possible problem.
What a difference people who care can make ...
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Very very sad news
I had all sorts of plans today including a few light hearted posts.
But that's all changed now.
I frequently check Dina's blog and though I have a lot on today something drew me there first thing.
The last post - on October 23rd - was, in typical Dina style, a picture of a gorgeous hat.
But then I checked the comments and found that Dina died on Monday night.
You don't need my words to tell you about Dina.
Read her own - in her blog and her book and her regular Guardian column.
And, if you feel so inclined, donate to the charity appeal in her name.
Monday, October 29, 2007
A Message - Just for You (and you and you ...)
That clever Sarah Salway, together with fellow writer, Lynne Rees, has come up with a new lit blog project involving messages, a blog, a book, a charity, November, tenuous connections and the number 300.
Whether you would like to be directly involved - or prefer to watch from the sidelines - go here to check out Your Messages.
Whether you would like to be directly involved - or prefer to watch from the sidelines - go here to check out Your Messages.
How to Silence Your Inner Critic
If you've ever put pen to paper or fingertip to keyboard to create something new from your own imagination, you'll know who I mean by the 'Inner Critic'.
It's the one who sits on your shoulder and whispers insidiously in your ear, sapping your energy and draining your confidence.
'You can't do this,' it says.
'Why are you bothering?
You'll never get anywhere.
You're doomed to failure.
And quite rightly so - you're crap.'
Sometimes you get on a roll and can manage to push it into the background -
- but inevitably the time comes when it's back, dripping with malice.
It may surprise you to know that just about every writer - published or unpublished, bestseller or midlister - has one of these spiteful demons challenging their urge to create.
In the BloggersWithBookDeals Forum there was a discussion recently about this phenomenon.
Realising the problem to be universal, but our responses to it to be personal, we thought we'd share the conversation by posting it on Bookarazzi.
You can follow the thread here.
While you're there, you might want to check out the other fab new material on the site, including a new Tips for Writers section.
Oh and there's another post about procrastination (the thief of time) just gone up.
It's the one who sits on your shoulder and whispers insidiously in your ear, sapping your energy and draining your confidence.
'You can't do this,' it says.
'Why are you bothering?
You'll never get anywhere.
You're doomed to failure.
And quite rightly so - you're crap.'
Sometimes you get on a roll and can manage to push it into the background -
- but inevitably the time comes when it's back, dripping with malice.
It may surprise you to know that just about every writer - published or unpublished, bestseller or midlister - has one of these spiteful demons challenging their urge to create.
In the BloggersWithBookDeals Forum there was a discussion recently about this phenomenon.
Realising the problem to be universal, but our responses to it to be personal, we thought we'd share the conversation by posting it on Bookarazzi.
You can follow the thread here.
While you're there, you might want to check out the other fab new material on the site, including a new Tips for Writers section.
Oh and there's another post about procrastination (the thief of time) just gone up.
The Fall Guy
Ouch! Ooof! Splat!
I just fell over in the street.
You know how it goes - it looks spectacular enough to send a woman scurrying over to see if I'm ok but all I'm worried about is looking like a twat.
So of course I struggle to my feet, assure her I'm fine, and hide the bleeding palms and bruised knees.
But what I want to know is - at what point do you stop 'falling over' and start 'having a fall'?
I just fell over in the street.
You know how it goes - it looks spectacular enough to send a woman scurrying over to see if I'm ok but all I'm worried about is looking like a twat.
So of course I struggle to my feet, assure her I'm fine, and hide the bleeding palms and bruised knees.
But what I want to know is - at what point do you stop 'falling over' and start 'having a fall'?
Friday, October 26, 2007
Debi and her Dad. Part 6
So yesterday when I go to dad I find an appointments card for a 24hr tape at Barnet Hospital Cardiology Dept next Wed.
I have no idea what this is about or where it's come from - and of course dad has no recollection either.
I phone patient transport to arrange for him to get there.
They tell me they can't accept a booking from me - it has to be arranged by the dept.
I phone the Cardio Dept.
Answer machine asks me to leave a message and they'll get back to me.
I leave a message saying I'll be at dad's for the next hour or so and leaving his number.
An hour later I call again and leave another message asking them NOT to call dad as he'll just be confused.
I leave my home no and mobile.
No response.
This morning I try ringing Cardio again.
Answer machine says there's no more space for messages and to ring another extension or dial zero.
I dial zero and am told it's not possible to connect me.
I ring the main switchboard.
They ask for the name of dad's consultant.
I say I have no idea but the appointment is for a 24hr tape - which I assume means he will also have to return the following day.
The operator says all the numbers are on voicemail.
She suggests explaining to transport.
She transfers me to transport.
Transport say they can't possibly accept the booking from me.
I should try the GP.
(Oy vey!)
I call the GP.
Sorry, the receptionist tells me, they can only arrange a first transport and this isn't dad's first.
I patiently explain the problem and she says she'll make an exception 'just this once' and will arrange it.
Of course I'm still going to need to talk to the dept as I need to know if he'll have to go back the following day to have the tape removed.
I have no idea what this is about or where it's come from - and of course dad has no recollection either.
I phone patient transport to arrange for him to get there.
They tell me they can't accept a booking from me - it has to be arranged by the dept.
I phone the Cardio Dept.
Answer machine asks me to leave a message and they'll get back to me.
I leave a message saying I'll be at dad's for the next hour or so and leaving his number.
An hour later I call again and leave another message asking them NOT to call dad as he'll just be confused.
I leave my home no and mobile.
No response.
This morning I try ringing Cardio again.
Answer machine says there's no more space for messages and to ring another extension or dial zero.
I dial zero and am told it's not possible to connect me.
I ring the main switchboard.
They ask for the name of dad's consultant.
I say I have no idea but the appointment is for a 24hr tape - which I assume means he will also have to return the following day.
The operator says all the numbers are on voicemail.
She suggests explaining to transport.
She transfers me to transport.
Transport say they can't possibly accept the booking from me.
I should try the GP.
(Oy vey!)
I call the GP.
Sorry, the receptionist tells me, they can only arrange a first transport and this isn't dad's first.
I patiently explain the problem and she says she'll make an exception 'just this once' and will arrange it.
Of course I'm still going to need to talk to the dept as I need to know if he'll have to go back the following day to have the tape removed.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Great gig - great cause. What more do you want?
A friend of mine has organised a gig in aid of ALDLife - both of her children have adrenoleukodystrophy - you can read their story here.
The bands are all appearing free.
All we have to do is turn up and enjoy!
Montague Arms
289 Queens Road, Peckham, SE15
8.30-midnight Friday 2nd November
The Original Sinners
ParaFernalia
Jeanette Murphy
Fiona Branson
Trip Team DJs
Big Ron
Icon's Choice
£5/£3 concessions.
289 Queens Road, Peckham, SE15
8.30-midnight Friday 2nd November
The Original Sinners
ParaFernalia
Jeanette Murphy
Fiona Branson
Trip Team DJs
Big Ron
Icon's Choice
£5/£3 concessions.
The bands are all appearing free.
All we have to do is turn up and enjoy!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Debi and her Dad. Part 5
For some time dad's been complaining of pain in the sole of his foot.
A trip to the chiropodist a few weeks ago helped but didn't provide the miracle cure I'd hoped for.
So when I went with him to the doctor's today for a flu jab, I took my opportunity.
(Remember this is the crap GP practice I've mentioned before.)
Me: While you're in with dad, would you mind taking a quick look at his foot please? He says it's really sore and it was actually very hard for him to walk here at all.
Nurse: Oh no, that won't be possible. I'm very busy doing the flu jabs. You'll need to make another appointment.
Me: (through gritted teeth) Yes I understand, but as I said, he found it very difficult to get here at all and it is very sore and since we're here I'd be very grateful if you could just have a look please ...
Later ...
Nurse: I've given him his flu jab and then I realised his Vit B12 jab was due too so I gave him that as well. I've put a padded dressing on his foot and moisturised his foot and legs. You should change the dressing in 3 days - here are some spares.
So there you go.
As dad always says, if you don't ask, you don't get.
UPDATE: I replied to the GP's email I told you about here by asking who I should contact and what was the best method ie phone, email, letter, visit etc.
That was nearly 2 wks ago.
I've yet to receive a reply.
A trip to the chiropodist a few weeks ago helped but didn't provide the miracle cure I'd hoped for.
So when I went with him to the doctor's today for a flu jab, I took my opportunity.
(Remember this is the crap GP practice I've mentioned before.)
Me: While you're in with dad, would you mind taking a quick look at his foot please? He says it's really sore and it was actually very hard for him to walk here at all.
Nurse: Oh no, that won't be possible. I'm very busy doing the flu jabs. You'll need to make another appointment.
Me: (through gritted teeth) Yes I understand, but as I said, he found it very difficult to get here at all and it is very sore and since we're here I'd be very grateful if you could just have a look please ...
Later ...
Nurse: I've given him his flu jab and then I realised his Vit B12 jab was due too so I gave him that as well. I've put a padded dressing on his foot and moisturised his foot and legs. You should change the dressing in 3 days - here are some spares.
So there you go.
As dad always says, if you don't ask, you don't get.
UPDATE: I replied to the GP's email I told you about here by asking who I should contact and what was the best method ie phone, email, letter, visit etc.
That was nearly 2 wks ago.
I've yet to receive a reply.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
What am I doing wrong?
![[Sweet+Award.gif]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8pku1MiUB5HOBP6MPiFt2W1Lu9wQUUgvSZbL7QqZrj43DNVG-IEEBedV-3F2exa0TAbXB_GsocJ2InrGx8AW74vPOgiV3oXLdxtdwGT2hUNsq-kzTIUQXGZKH-e-U1RhFkAV/s1600/Sweet+Award.gif)
First I get called Nice, and now Marie has only gone and said I'm sweet!
Don't forget - you can break teeth on candied apples ...
I'm supposed to nominate other sweet people, but I ain't gonna cos I'm really nasty and evil.
So there!
Don't forget - you can break teeth on candied apples ...
I'm supposed to nominate other sweet people, but I ain't gonna cos I'm really nasty and evil.
So there!
Friday, October 19, 2007
A good deed in a naughty world.
I posted here about the kindness of strangers and how small deeds can make such a difference to the quality of our life.
In the comments, Kath T gave this example:
I dropped my purse on the bus a few years ago and a lady of mature years came after me to return it. Obviously very relieved I tried to buy her a coffee, she refused and told me to do the same for someone else, which I try to do.
And Carol G gave this one:
I live out in the sticks in Scotland, one night my car broke down on an unlit road, miles away from anywhere and to top that, I couldn't get a signal on my mobile. Plus the sweet sound of two teenage girls in the back screeching about getting their trainers wrecked if they had to walk through the fields!
An angel came in the shape of a man who'd just collected a takeaway pizza. He let us share it with him as we huddled round the engine lit by his headlights. Then, even though I lived 30 miles away from that bleak spot, he towed me all the way and helped my husband push the heap onto the drive.
He said he wouldn't like to think of his wife and kids stranded on a lonely road like that, and wouldn't have been able to sleep if he'd driven past us.
My dad always said that in every encounter with a fellow human being, no matter how small or transient, he hoped they went away feeling better than before he'd met them.
Let's go for a karmic shift here!
Please give examples of small acts of kindness that have happened to you.
In the comments, Kath T gave this example:
I dropped my purse on the bus a few years ago and a lady of mature years came after me to return it. Obviously very relieved I tried to buy her a coffee, she refused and told me to do the same for someone else, which I try to do.
And Carol G gave this one:
I live out in the sticks in Scotland, one night my car broke down on an unlit road, miles away from anywhere and to top that, I couldn't get a signal on my mobile. Plus the sweet sound of two teenage girls in the back screeching about getting their trainers wrecked if they had to walk through the fields!
An angel came in the shape of a man who'd just collected a takeaway pizza. He let us share it with him as we huddled round the engine lit by his headlights. Then, even though I lived 30 miles away from that bleak spot, he towed me all the way and helped my husband push the heap onto the drive.
He said he wouldn't like to think of his wife and kids stranded on a lonely road like that, and wouldn't have been able to sleep if he'd driven past us.
My dad always said that in every encounter with a fellow human being, no matter how small or transient, he hoped they went away feeling better than before he'd met them.
Let's go for a karmic shift here!
Please give examples of small acts of kindness that have happened to you.
Action Reaction
Following the Blog Action Day on the environment on Monday, here's how it went:
20,603 blogs participated ...
There were 23,327 posts (some bloggers posted more than once - guilty as charged, m'lud) ...
Reaching an approximate readership of 14,631,038.
There's more - the Day was also picked up by all forms of traditional media around the world including TV stations, radio stations and newspapers.
And yet more - Blog Action Day was officially supported by the United Nations Environmental Programme.
'UNEP welcomes the simple yet powerful concept of Blog Action Day and calls on bloggers around the world to participate.'
So what - if any - tangible difference did all this make?
There are obvious limitations to this kind of initiative.
There's a strong possibility that we're preaching to the converted.
There are no guarantees that anyone previously sceptical may have been converted to the cause simply by reading a blogpost.
And there's a danger that - as with events like Live8 - people will sit back and feel smug - they've done 'their bit'.
In response, each of us should resolve to do at least one more thing for our planet than we currently do. It's not like there's any shortage of choice:
recycling, using energy efficient lightbulbs, not leaving appliances on standby, not using the car for short journeys, buying local produce, avoiding excess packaging, not taking plastic bags, turning down our thermostats by one degree, changing to a green energy supplier ...
If every one of those 14,631,038+ people implemented one or more of these suggestions, that would make a tangible difference.
But the main outcome we have to hope for is that initiatives like this contribute to such a groundswell of opinion that they lead to a cultural shift, whereby pressure is put on governments and corporations so that it becomes impossible not to factor in the effect on the environment of new policies, projects, products etc.
Now that's what I call making a difference.
20,603 blogs participated ...
There were 23,327 posts (some bloggers posted more than once - guilty as charged, m'lud) ...
Reaching an approximate readership of 14,631,038.
There's more - the Day was also picked up by all forms of traditional media around the world including TV stations, radio stations and newspapers.
And yet more - Blog Action Day was officially supported by the United Nations Environmental Programme.
'UNEP welcomes the simple yet powerful concept of Blog Action Day and calls on bloggers around the world to participate.'
So what - if any - tangible difference did all this make?
There are obvious limitations to this kind of initiative.
There's a strong possibility that we're preaching to the converted.
There are no guarantees that anyone previously sceptical may have been converted to the cause simply by reading a blogpost.
And there's a danger that - as with events like Live8 - people will sit back and feel smug - they've done 'their bit'.
In response, each of us should resolve to do at least one more thing for our planet than we currently do. It's not like there's any shortage of choice:
recycling, using energy efficient lightbulbs, not leaving appliances on standby, not using the car for short journeys, buying local produce, avoiding excess packaging, not taking plastic bags, turning down our thermostats by one degree, changing to a green energy supplier ...
If every one of those 14,631,038+ people implemented one or more of these suggestions, that would make a tangible difference.
But the main outcome we have to hope for is that initiatives like this contribute to such a groundswell of opinion that they lead to a cultural shift, whereby pressure is put on governments and corporations so that it becomes impossible not to factor in the effect on the environment of new policies, projects, products etc.Now that's what I call making a difference.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Salad days
Neatly linking the Blog Action Day on the environment with Maht at Moon Topples' Phoctober project ....
The best way to deal with food miles, packaging, additives etc is to grow your own.
If, like me, you have only a balcony, there are still ways you can eat what you grow.
The best way to deal with food miles, packaging, additives etc is to grow your own.
If, like me, you have only a balcony, there are still ways you can eat what you grow.
Blog Action Day
Heads up!
Today is important.
It's Blog Action Day.
All around our beleaguered planet, thousands of people are blogging today about the environment.
Go here to see Absolute Vanilla's passionate call to arms around housing developments.
Go here to see a post about plastic.
And here to see one about butterflies.
Here's one about recycling.
This is the list of 4 officially supported charities for the day.
Thousand of blogs.
Millions of readers.
What's your excuse for not getting involved?
Today is important.
It's Blog Action Day.
All around our beleaguered planet, thousands of people are blogging today about the environment.
Go here to see Absolute Vanilla's passionate call to arms around housing developments.
Go here to see a post about plastic.
And here to see one about butterflies.
Here's one about recycling.
This is the list of 4 officially supported charities for the day.
Thousand of blogs.
Millions of readers.
What's your excuse for not getting involved?
The kindness of strangers
There was a time when altruism was considered the obvious way to live.
Then along came the Thatcher 80s - and suddenly altruism was equated with stupidity.
Greed and ambition were to be celebrated and admired.
And we've never recovered.
But every so often something - or someone - comes along who reminds you that human beings still have the capacity for acting in a way that helps others, while bringing them no material gain - apart from the satisfaction of knowing you have been kind and made a fellow human being feel good.
So yesterday, my boys went to the park with 3 friends.
They were only going for an hour in the late afternoon, so I didn't bother giving them any money.
One of the friends bought 2 ice creams and apologised to the others for not having enough £££ to buy them each one.
'You 3 not having an ice cream?' the man asked.
'No - it's ok, thanks,' the boys replied.
'Why not?'
'We don't have the money - but that's fine. Thank you.'
You can guess, can't you?
Not only did he give them each an ice cream - he even gave them strawberry sauce!
Now that man's never going to be rich.
But he made their day.
And when they told me, it made mine too.
And now I've shared it with you.
We don't know his name, so he has no way of knowing how far his actions are being celebrated and lauded.
He won't even have the satisfaction of knowing how much they have been appreciated.
But he put a little bit of goodness into the world.
Can you put a value on that?
PS Still having some techy problems.
If anyone's trying to reach me by Googlemail - be warned. I can't get in.
Then along came the Thatcher 80s - and suddenly altruism was equated with stupidity.
Greed and ambition were to be celebrated and admired.
And we've never recovered.
But every so often something - or someone - comes along who reminds you that human beings still have the capacity for acting in a way that helps others, while bringing them no material gain - apart from the satisfaction of knowing you have been kind and made a fellow human being feel good.
So yesterday, my boys went to the park with 3 friends.
They were only going for an hour in the late afternoon, so I didn't bother giving them any money.
One of the friends bought 2 ice creams and apologised to the others for not having enough £££ to buy them each one.
'You 3 not having an ice cream?' the man asked.
'No - it's ok, thanks,' the boys replied.
'Why not?'
'We don't have the money - but that's fine. Thank you.'
You can guess, can't you?
Not only did he give them each an ice cream - he even gave them strawberry sauce!
Now that man's never going to be rich.
But he made their day.
And when they told me, it made mine too.
And now I've shared it with you.
We don't know his name, so he has no way of knowing how far his actions are being celebrated and lauded.
He won't even have the satisfaction of knowing how much they have been appreciated.
But he put a little bit of goodness into the world.
Can you put a value on that?
PS Still having some techy problems.
If anyone's trying to reach me by Googlemail - be warned. I can't get in.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
I'm going out. I may be some time.
Gulp. I'm about to change ISP ...
Wish me luck.
If I disappear from your screens never to return, you'll know why.
It's been a blast ...
So long and thanks for all the fish.
(Mounts steed and gallops into virtual sunset clutching cd, modem, 4 wire thingys, 2 plugs, 1 unidentified techy object and a leaflet telling me it'll be a breeze.)
Wish me luck.
If I disappear from your screens never to return, you'll know why.
It's been a blast ...
So long and thanks for all the fish.
(Mounts steed and gallops into virtual sunset clutching cd, modem, 4 wire thingys, 2 plugs, 1 unidentified techy object and a leaflet telling me it'll be a breeze.)
Debi and her Dad. Part 4
The prescription debacle.
When dad was discharged from hospital back in July, I had terrible trouble getting the GP's prescriptions to tally with the meds listed on his discharge summary.
So much trouble, in fact, I could start a whole blog just dedicated to this one issue.
I mean, how hard can it be???
Before we went away in the summer, I contacted the GP again.
An agreement had been reached whereby 6 full sets of repeat prescriptions would be lodged with the chemist. That way I would only have to pop there to collect them as necessary, instead of putting in requests to the surgery, waiting 48hrs, picking them up and taking them to the chemist etc etc ...
This was the last communication I had from the GP back in July:
I do not know why the chemist has no record of Aspirin & Ramipril 5mg, they are both on the repeat list and were given on 29/7, I do not know where the spironolactone 50mg came from but had already changed it to 25mg last week, so as far as I am concerned the chemist already has a full & accurate list.
So yesterday, foolishly confident, I went to the chemist to pick up some essential pills that dad was nearly out of.
(I know, I know - I should have gone earlier ...)
Guess what. You've guessed it wasn't going to be straightforward, haven't you? But did you think it would be this hard?
There were 9 items on the repeat prescriptions the chemist had on file.
3 were for things that are non-essential and that dad doesn't take.
1 was for an item that his consultant and I felt might be contributing to dad's dizzy spells and so had been removed.
5 items - the most essential ones - were missing entirely!
So ... I had to put in the prescription request at the surgery but the likelihood is that I won't be able to pick it up and take it to the chemist before Monday, by which time dad will have spent at least 2 days without some of these vital meds.
I then wrote a long email last night to the GP explaining the anomalies and asking for her to ensure the chemist has a full set of accurate prescriptions.
I was nice.
It cost me.
But I was nice.
This was her reply in full:
I will pass this on, but should tell you it is not safe to rely on emailing me, I work part time, and no one else will see your messages
When dad was discharged from hospital back in July, I had terrible trouble getting the GP's prescriptions to tally with the meds listed on his discharge summary.
So much trouble, in fact, I could start a whole blog just dedicated to this one issue.
I mean, how hard can it be???
Before we went away in the summer, I contacted the GP again.
An agreement had been reached whereby 6 full sets of repeat prescriptions would be lodged with the chemist. That way I would only have to pop there to collect them as necessary, instead of putting in requests to the surgery, waiting 48hrs, picking them up and taking them to the chemist etc etc ...
This was the last communication I had from the GP back in July:
I do not know why the chemist has no record of Aspirin & Ramipril 5mg, they are both on the repeat list and were given on 29/7, I do not know where the spironolactone 50mg came from but had already changed it to 25mg last week, so as far as I am concerned the chemist already has a full & accurate list.
So yesterday, foolishly confident, I went to the chemist to pick up some essential pills that dad was nearly out of.
(I know, I know - I should have gone earlier ...)
Guess what. You've guessed it wasn't going to be straightforward, haven't you? But did you think it would be this hard?
There were 9 items on the repeat prescriptions the chemist had on file.
3 were for things that are non-essential and that dad doesn't take.
1 was for an item that his consultant and I felt might be contributing to dad's dizzy spells and so had been removed.
5 items - the most essential ones - were missing entirely!
So ... I had to put in the prescription request at the surgery but the likelihood is that I won't be able to pick it up and take it to the chemist before Monday, by which time dad will have spent at least 2 days without some of these vital meds.
I then wrote a long email last night to the GP explaining the anomalies and asking for her to ensure the chemist has a full set of accurate prescriptions.
I was nice.
It cost me.
But I was nice.
This was her reply in full:
I will pass this on, but should tell you it is not safe to rely on emailing me, I work part time, and no one else will see your messages
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
He's done it!
Following people's blogs over the last (nearly) 2 years is the same as accompanying friends on their journeys through life.
You stand at their virtual side as they climb mountains, occasionally slide down scree slopes on their arses and trek across flat, featureless plains, never knowing whether they will ever ARRIVE.
Well, Pundy HAS arrived.
His book, A Half Life of One, is no longer virtual.
We will be able to hold it in our hands, stroke the cover, sniff the pages.
So glad to have been by your side for part of your journey, Bill ...
You stand at their virtual side as they climb mountains, occasionally slide down scree slopes on their arses and trek across flat, featureless plains, never knowing whether they will ever ARRIVE.
Well, Pundy HAS arrived.
His book, A Half Life of One, is no longer virtual.
We will be able to hold it in our hands, stroke the cover, sniff the pages.
So glad to have been by your side for part of your journey, Bill ...
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Wham bam, thank you, Slam
This looks good.
A unique event that's the theatrical version of 'battle of the bands'. 16 VERY short plays compete for the title 'best new play'. Expect variety, bizarre stories and a lot of fun.
Sunday 28th October @ 8pm
VENUE: Bedford Globe Theatre,
TUBE: Balham
DURATION: 1 hr 30
TICKETS: £5
It's organised by Zeitgeist Theatre who say this about themselves:
Zeitgeist Theatre produces issue-driven, thought-provoking new writing that is relevant to people's lives. This is unpretentious theatre that challenges, reflects and focuses on modern times. Our aim is to relate this to an audience in an engaging, entertaining and creative way.
We believe theatre can change the world,
not just interpret it.
The organiser says that if this event is a success, it will become a regular event and they'll be on the lookout for new writers.
Linkiness - oh that's nice
I'm spitting and cursing.
I've been called nice.
Verilion (who is so genuinely nice, she's uber nice) reckons she's got my measure.
Nice? Nice??? Me?
I'll have you know that beneath this so called 'nice' exterior lurks a vicious and evil demon, struggling to get out.
I've been called nice.
Verilion (who is so genuinely nice, she's uber nice) reckons she's got my measure.
Nice? Nice??? Me?
I'll have you know that beneath this so called 'nice' exterior lurks a vicious and evil demon, struggling to get out.
Debi and her Dad. Part 3
'Hi, pops. 'S only me. How ya doin?'
'I've got the strength of ten men.
Nine of them dead, and the tenth dying ...'
'I've got the strength of ten men.
Nine of them dead, and the tenth dying ...'
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Hormone replacement therapy
This is my life:
I have a father and no mother ...
A brother and no sisters ...
A husband and no wife ...
Sons and no daughters ...
I sometimes feel like a lonely female island lost in a progesterone sea.
So just imagine what this weekend has meant to me.
It was my dear friend C's birthday and for her present her daughter gave her something she could share with her female friends. (This is typical of them both, by the way.)
So it was that 5 beautiful, funny and bright women (6 if you include me) met in Brighton on Friday evening.
After a scrumptious meal, we went to see Grumpy Old Women, and for once I didn't feel in the slightest bit grumpy.
Then it was back to F & L's gorgeous house in Worthing where we stayed up to 3am, talking, eating, drinking, smoking and laughing like demented banshees.
Not much later, we shared a leisurely breakfast before wandering down to the beach to gaze at distant horizons.
I arrived home 24 hours after I'd left - relaxed, refreshed, replenished, repaired - and bloody knackered.
The warm cosy feeling lasted all of ... oooh, I'd say at least 5 mins.
If you're a woman in need of some serious pampering, F & L run a women only B&B, which I can't recommend highly enough.
(They also have a houseful of books!)
I have a father and no mother ...
A brother and no sisters ...
A husband and no wife ...
Sons and no daughters ...
I sometimes feel like a lonely female island lost in a progesterone sea.
So just imagine what this weekend has meant to me.
It was my dear friend C's birthday and for her present her daughter gave her something she could share with her female friends. (This is typical of them both, by the way.)
So it was that 5 beautiful, funny and bright women (6 if you include me) met in Brighton on Friday evening.
After a scrumptious meal, we went to see Grumpy Old Women, and for once I didn't feel in the slightest bit grumpy.
Then it was back to F & L's gorgeous house in Worthing where we stayed up to 3am, talking, eating, drinking, smoking and laughing like demented banshees.
Not much later, we shared a leisurely breakfast before wandering down to the beach to gaze at distant horizons.
I arrived home 24 hours after I'd left - relaxed, refreshed, replenished, repaired - and bloody knackered.
The warm cosy feeling lasted all of ... oooh, I'd say at least 5 mins.
If you're a woman in need of some serious pampering, F & L run a women only B&B, which I can't recommend highly enough.
(They also have a houseful of books!)
Friday, October 05, 2007
Better late than never
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
The Journey
Regular visitors here will know that the global sex trade is the subject of my second book, Trading Tatiana.
I've blogged several times about the ongoing situation, unchanged since I wrote that book in the fervent hope that the horrors it depicted would soon be consigned to the dustbin of history.
If you happen to have visited Trafalgar Square recently, you'll have seen graphic evidence that the traffic in women is still thriving.
This is an extract from the website set up to publicise the journey of these women.
The UK has become the prime destination for trafficked women and girls. The growing sex industry supplies a huge demand resulting in enforced slavery and gross exploitation of thousands of women. Victims come from countries burdened with poverty, poor education and high unemployment, countries such as Lithuania, Albania, Nigeria and Thailand. Over 210,000 people have been trafficked from Balkan States and 260,000 from North Africa. Girls of 16 or 17 or even younger are tricked into accepting bogus jobs abroad.
Sex trafficking is big business that makes money from terror. A girl can cost as little as £1000 and be sold in the UK for £3,000 to £5,000. Once broken and set to work that girl will service up to 30 men a day earning their captor up to £250,000 a year. These girls are made to pay for every aspect of their keep, accommodation, clothes, food, tissues and condoms, but at an inflated rate that means they will always be in ‘debt’. This is going on all over London right now and is a rapidly growing industry.
This is from the Council of Europe Convention on Trafficking site:
(See here for my post when they signed and here for my reservations as to how meaningful this would be in real terms.)
Because the Convention can only come into force if it has at least 10 ratifications.
So far there have been 9.
The UK is not one of them.
But our government does have an Action Plan.
And this is what it says about ratification:
It will inevitably take some time to move from signature to ratification. We are not able to give a date for ratification because much will depend on the extent to which we will require legislative amendments and new processes and guidance. We will not ratify the Convention until we are satisfied that all the required legislative and process changes are in place.
Meanwhile read these case studies and see if you feel OK about the length of time it takes for the bureaucratic wheels to turn.
Then scroll through to read the struggles these women continue to have with the Home Office.
Then support the work of organisations like the Helen Bamber Foundation.
And harass your MP ...
I've blogged several times about the ongoing situation, unchanged since I wrote that book in the fervent hope that the horrors it depicted would soon be consigned to the dustbin of history.
If you happen to have visited Trafalgar Square recently, you'll have seen graphic evidence that the traffic in women is still thriving.
This is an extract from the website set up to publicise the journey of these women.
The UK has become the prime destination for trafficked women and girls. The growing sex industry supplies a huge demand resulting in enforced slavery and gross exploitation of thousands of women. Victims come from countries burdened with poverty, poor education and high unemployment, countries such as Lithuania, Albania, Nigeria and Thailand. Over 210,000 people have been trafficked from Balkan States and 260,000 from North Africa. Girls of 16 or 17 or even younger are tricked into accepting bogus jobs abroad.
Sex trafficking is big business that makes money from terror. A girl can cost as little as £1000 and be sold in the UK for £3,000 to £5,000. Once broken and set to work that girl will service up to 30 men a day earning their captor up to £250,000 a year. These girls are made to pay for every aspect of their keep, accommodation, clothes, food, tissues and condoms, but at an inflated rate that means they will always be in ‘debt’. This is going on all over London right now and is a rapidly growing industry.
This is from the Council of Europe Convention on Trafficking site:
This new Convention, the first European treaty in this field, is a comprehensive treaty focusing mainly on the protection of victims of trafficking and the safeguard of their rights. It also aims to prevent trafficking and to prosecute traffickers. In addition, the Convention provides for the setting up of an effective and independent monitoring mechanism capable of controlling the implementation of the obligations contained in the Convention.
The UK finally signed up to the Convention earlier this year.(See here for my post when they signed and here for my reservations as to how meaningful this would be in real terms.)
Because the Convention can only come into force if it has at least 10 ratifications.
So far there have been 9.
The UK is not one of them.
But our government does have an Action Plan.
And this is what it says about ratification:
It will inevitably take some time to move from signature to ratification. We are not able to give a date for ratification because much will depend on the extent to which we will require legislative amendments and new processes and guidance. We will not ratify the Convention until we are satisfied that all the required legislative and process changes are in place.
Meanwhile read these case studies and see if you feel OK about the length of time it takes for the bureaucratic wheels to turn.
Then scroll through to read the struggles these women continue to have with the Home Office.
Then support the work of organisations like the Helen Bamber Foundation.
And harass your MP ...
Debi and her Dad. Part 2
I'm not so stupid.
This time I checked the library before going to dad's flat.
Good move as it turned out cos there he was. Same light summer jacket but at least it's warm and dry today.
He had a new dressing on his head and I found some notes at his flat from the district nurse.
Result? Not quite as it turns out. The dressing on his elbow hadn't been touched. I tried to take it off but bottled out again as it was sticking to the wound.
Bah! Will have to phone them yet again. Knowing how these things go, what's the likelihood of them coming while he's in the library?
There was a letter there saying he has an appointment at a Falls Clinic for an assessment.
Where did that come from?
On the plus side, it said he'd be there for a full day but they'd arranged transport.
On the minus side, there were various aspects that were unclear to me, let alone him.
Will phone them and find out so I can explain it to him and leave an appropriate daft-old-bugger note.
Thing is, my number's on just about everything connected to him, so why didn't anyone phone me to let me know this was being arranged?
On Monday I'd switched his heating on and left a note on the switch.
'It's getting cold. Keep heating on or face the wrath of the daughter.'
It was off today, of course.
A conversation about people going on holiday without insurance:
Dad: Well of course that's really foolish ...
Me: You can bloody talk. Look what happened last time you went away.
Dad: Where?
Me: Portugal.
Dad: Ah yes, I remember. I came home early.
Me: No you didn't. You came home late! Alan (my brother) went to bring you back.
Dad: Really? Why? What was wrong with me?
Me: (Taps chest. Don't want to remind him of that terrible time last year when he was rushed to hospital and had 2 emergency stent operations before anyone so much as got round to contacting me to tell me.)
Dad: What, heart? Nonsense. I've never ever had any problems with my heart.
I got back in time to pick up LG and had a conversation with a woman in a similar position, except her father's in a residential home just up the road.
It seems she and I are a recognised phenomenon.
We even have a name: 'sandwich carers'. Not because we make lunches (though we do) but because we're sandwiched between the needs of children and parents.
In the news this week: people in the 100+ bracket are in the largest growing age category.
Hope society gets its act together to take proper care of our elders before we ourselves become the bread instead of the filling.
This time I checked the library before going to dad's flat.
Good move as it turned out cos there he was. Same light summer jacket but at least it's warm and dry today.
He had a new dressing on his head and I found some notes at his flat from the district nurse.
Result? Not quite as it turns out. The dressing on his elbow hadn't been touched. I tried to take it off but bottled out again as it was sticking to the wound.
Bah! Will have to phone them yet again. Knowing how these things go, what's the likelihood of them coming while he's in the library?
There was a letter there saying he has an appointment at a Falls Clinic for an assessment.
Where did that come from?
On the plus side, it said he'd be there for a full day but they'd arranged transport.
On the minus side, there were various aspects that were unclear to me, let alone him.
Will phone them and find out so I can explain it to him and leave an appropriate daft-old-bugger note.
Thing is, my number's on just about everything connected to him, so why didn't anyone phone me to let me know this was being arranged?
On Monday I'd switched his heating on and left a note on the switch.
'It's getting cold. Keep heating on or face the wrath of the daughter.'
It was off today, of course.
A conversation about people going on holiday without insurance:
Dad: Well of course that's really foolish ...
Me: You can bloody talk. Look what happened last time you went away.
Dad: Where?
Me: Portugal.
Dad: Ah yes, I remember. I came home early.
Me: No you didn't. You came home late! Alan (my brother) went to bring you back.
Dad: Really? Why? What was wrong with me?
Me: (Taps chest. Don't want to remind him of that terrible time last year when he was rushed to hospital and had 2 emergency stent operations before anyone so much as got round to contacting me to tell me.)
Dad: What, heart? Nonsense. I've never ever had any problems with my heart.
I got back in time to pick up LG and had a conversation with a woman in a similar position, except her father's in a residential home just up the road.
It seems she and I are a recognised phenomenon.
We even have a name: 'sandwich carers'. Not because we make lunches (though we do) but because we're sandwiched between the needs of children and parents.
In the news this week: people in the 100+ bracket are in the largest growing age category.
Hope society gets its act together to take proper care of our elders before we ourselves become the bread instead of the filling.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Burma update
Just rec'd another email from Avaaz.
Our emergency petition to stop the crackdown on peaceful protesters in Burma is exploding, with nearly 500,000 signers from every nation of the world. But the situation in Burma remains desperate, with reports of hundreds of monks being massacred and tortured. Burma's rulers have also killed and expelled international journalists, cutting off global media coverage of their cruelty.
China is still the key - the country with the most power to halt the Burmese generals' reign of terror. We're delivering our message this week with a massive ad campaign in major newspapers, beginning Thursday with a full page ad in the Financial Times worldwide, and in the South China Morning Post. The strength of the ad comes from the number of petition signers listed – can we reach our goal of 1 million signatures this week? The link to sign the petition and view the ad is below, forward this email to all your friends and family!
http://www.avaaz.org/en/stand_with_burma/u.php
China continues to provide key economic and military support to Burma's dictatorship, but it has been openly critical of the crackdown. Now we need the government to match words with actions. Our ad paints a powerful moment of choice for China in its relationship with the world – will it be a responsible and respected member of the global community, or will it be associated with tyranny and oppression?
People power, on the streets of Burma, and around the world, can triumph over tyranny. Our strength is in our numbers, spread the word!
With hope and determination,
Ricken, Paul, Ben, Graziela, Pascal, Galit and the whole Avaaz team.
For the best local reporting on the situation in Burma, try these links:
http://www.irrawaddy.org
http://www.mizzima.com
Please please sign the petition if you haven't already done so.
And pass the message on.
It will cost you nothing.
And it won't result in you being beaten ... or arrested ... or shot ... or tortured ...
Our emergency petition to stop the crackdown on peaceful protesters in Burma is exploding, with nearly 500,000 signers from every nation of the world. But the situation in Burma remains desperate, with reports of hundreds of monks being massacred and tortured. Burma's rulers have also killed and expelled international journalists, cutting off global media coverage of their cruelty.
China is still the key - the country with the most power to halt the Burmese generals' reign of terror. We're delivering our message this week with a massive ad campaign in major newspapers, beginning Thursday with a full page ad in the Financial Times worldwide, and in the South China Morning Post. The strength of the ad comes from the number of petition signers listed – can we reach our goal of 1 million signatures this week? The link to sign the petition and view the ad is below, forward this email to all your friends and family!
http://www.avaaz.org/en/stand_with_burma/u.php
China continues to provide key economic and military support to Burma's dictatorship, but it has been openly critical of the crackdown. Now we need the government to match words with actions. Our ad paints a powerful moment of choice for China in its relationship with the world – will it be a responsible and respected member of the global community, or will it be associated with tyranny and oppression?
People power, on the streets of Burma, and around the world, can triumph over tyranny. Our strength is in our numbers, spread the word!
With hope and determination,
Ricken, Paul, Ben, Graziela, Pascal, Galit and the whole Avaaz team.
For the best local reporting on the situation in Burma, try these links:
http://www.irrawaddy.org
http://www.mizzima.com
Please please sign the petition if you haven't already done so.
And pass the message on.
It will cost you nothing.
And it won't result in you being beaten ... or arrested ... or shot ... or tortured ...
Debi and her Dad. Part 1
I've decided to use my blog to document the ups and downs of caring for my much-loved 92 year old father who lives alone on the other side of London.
I know our experiences are far from unique, so I'm hoping these posts will resonate with other people in a similar position.
This 1st post in the series was written on the tube on the way back from seeing him yesterday.
On my way up to dad's 2nd floor flat, I drop in to wish DZ's daughter a Long Life. DZ died yesterday and her funeral's today, leaving dad the only nonagenarian left in the block.
Let myself into dad's flat. He's not there! I do the usual holding-breath-while-opening-doors routine, but, no, he really isn't there. Further investigation reveals he's gone out wearing a light summer jacket (it's cold and pissing down outside), no hat or brolly and without any of his selection of walking sticks or zimmer frames.
Phone his GP. They haven't seen him either. Grab an umbrella and prepare to search the streets for him, hoping against hope that he hasn't fallen again.
As I pass the library, I peep in and think I see him in the window. But it's not him after all. Decide I might as well check properly inside. Bingo! He's there, reading a newspaper. Huddled under the brolly, we head home for lunch.
'I'm a bit doddery,' he says in wonder.
'That's why you should take your stick when you go out,' I say. 'I've left one of my 'daft-old-bugger' notes next to your keys to remind you ...'
These daft-old-bugger notes generally work well. They remind him of crucial things (eg 'Don't wear these shoes, they hurt your feet, you daft old bugger') and make him laugh.
After lunch, I fill his pill box. He's forgotten to take his morning meds as usual (in spite of the 'Don't forget to take your pills, you daft old bugger' note stuck on his cereal bowl). Decide to call every morning to remind him if I'm not going to see him that day.
His medication has been changed following a discussion I had last week with his consultant. I've questioned the meds before with his crap GP to no avail but the consultant thinks I might have hit the nail on the head with my suggestion that dad's dizzy spells might be caused by one of the items.
The dressings G & I put on his head and elbow following his last fall haven't been changed. I tried to do it myself last week but bottled out and organised a visit from a district nurse. They confirmed they would come but clearly the visit never materialised. Will have to phone them later and find out what's happening.
Also see from notes that V, his lovely carer who pops in every evening to prepare a meal and ensure he's taken his next batch of pills, has been replaced by someone I don't know. Dad's acute short term memory loss means he didn't know about the change and no one's contacted me to let me know. I'm concerned as V and I have a really good relationship and she knows exactly what dad needs. Will have to phone agency later and find out what's happening.
Leave later than intended which means I'll now be late for picking up LG from school as it takes over 1.5 hours to get home.
I am continuously enraged by dad's GP's practice. They do the absolute minimum, have been known to lie to me, are outrageously inefficient and - more importantly - treat dad in a way that is at best uncaring and at worst downright negligent. I would complain except I'm really scared that they'd take it out on dad when I'm not there. I have a strong suspicion that there have been times they've sent him away without seeing him but I can't prove anything and of course he doesn't remember.
He's so vulnerable. It appalls me when I think about people who don't have family and friends looking out for them. This is no way to treat the elders of our community.
Luckily there are also some wonderful and caring people out there, working at the sharp end of the NHS and sharing these frustrations from the other end of the stethoscope.
This is an extract from, a new book, In Stitches, by Nick Edwards, who is a doctor in an A&E dept:
I know our experiences are far from unique, so I'm hoping these posts will resonate with other people in a similar position.
This 1st post in the series was written on the tube on the way back from seeing him yesterday.
On my way up to dad's 2nd floor flat, I drop in to wish DZ's daughter a Long Life. DZ died yesterday and her funeral's today, leaving dad the only nonagenarian left in the block.
Let myself into dad's flat. He's not there! I do the usual holding-breath-while-opening-doors routine, but, no, he really isn't there. Further investigation reveals he's gone out wearing a light summer jacket (it's cold and pissing down outside), no hat or brolly and without any of his selection of walking sticks or zimmer frames.
Phone his GP. They haven't seen him either. Grab an umbrella and prepare to search the streets for him, hoping against hope that he hasn't fallen again.
As I pass the library, I peep in and think I see him in the window. But it's not him after all. Decide I might as well check properly inside. Bingo! He's there, reading a newspaper. Huddled under the brolly, we head home for lunch.
'I'm a bit doddery,' he says in wonder.
'That's why you should take your stick when you go out,' I say. 'I've left one of my 'daft-old-bugger' notes next to your keys to remind you ...'
These daft-old-bugger notes generally work well. They remind him of crucial things (eg 'Don't wear these shoes, they hurt your feet, you daft old bugger') and make him laugh.
After lunch, I fill his pill box. He's forgotten to take his morning meds as usual (in spite of the 'Don't forget to take your pills, you daft old bugger' note stuck on his cereal bowl). Decide to call every morning to remind him if I'm not going to see him that day.
His medication has been changed following a discussion I had last week with his consultant. I've questioned the meds before with his crap GP to no avail but the consultant thinks I might have hit the nail on the head with my suggestion that dad's dizzy spells might be caused by one of the items.
The dressings G & I put on his head and elbow following his last fall haven't been changed. I tried to do it myself last week but bottled out and organised a visit from a district nurse. They confirmed they would come but clearly the visit never materialised. Will have to phone them later and find out what's happening.
Also see from notes that V, his lovely carer who pops in every evening to prepare a meal and ensure he's taken his next batch of pills, has been replaced by someone I don't know. Dad's acute short term memory loss means he didn't know about the change and no one's contacted me to let me know. I'm concerned as V and I have a really good relationship and she knows exactly what dad needs. Will have to phone agency later and find out what's happening.
Leave later than intended which means I'll now be late for picking up LG from school as it takes over 1.5 hours to get home.
I am continuously enraged by dad's GP's practice. They do the absolute minimum, have been known to lie to me, are outrageously inefficient and - more importantly - treat dad in a way that is at best uncaring and at worst downright negligent. I would complain except I'm really scared that they'd take it out on dad when I'm not there. I have a strong suspicion that there have been times they've sent him away without seeing him but I can't prove anything and of course he doesn't remember.
He's so vulnerable. It appalls me when I think about people who don't have family and friends looking out for them. This is no way to treat the elders of our community.
Luckily there are also some wonderful and caring people out there, working at the sharp end of the NHS and sharing these frustrations from the other end of the stethoscope.
This is an extract from, a new book, In Stitches, by Nick Edwards, who is a doctor in an A&E dept:
A sign the world has gone mad?
What has had happened to my patients today? They seemed to be getting lost when I sent them for X-ray. I'd given the same directions as normal, there had been no secret muggers hiding in the hospital corridors and as far as I know, no problems with space - time dimensions in our particular corner of the universe.
I went to X-ray to investigate. I found it quickly because I knew the way. However, I looked for the signs for X-ray and they were gone. The nice, old-fashioned and slightly worn signs had gone; they had been replaced by a sign saying 'Department of Diagnostic Imaging'. What the hell? I know what it means but only just and only because I have been inundated by politically correct 'shit-speak' for a number of years. What a pointless waste of money; to satisfy some manager, they replaced a perfectly good sign with one that means bugger all to 90% of people. Why don't they change the toilet sign to 'Department of Faecal and Urinary Excrement' or the cafe to 'Calorific Enhancement Area'. Who makes these decisions? Who is employed to do such pointless stuff? Why? Why?? Why???
I needed a caffeinated beverage in a disposable single-use container - management-speak for shit NHS/Happy Shopper instant coffee. I went to sit in the 'Relaxation, Rest and Reflection Room', previously known as staff room. There, the nurses were moaning that tonight one of their colleagues had called in sick and to save money their shift would not be covered by a bank nurse. In A&E, staff shortages can seriously undermine the safety of patient care.
I am sure this genius plan was decided by some personnel manager who I doubt has ever seen a patient, cannula or trolley, and therefore is obviously an expert at making nursing planning decisions. We have a hospital that can fund unnecessary new signs, but not replace nurses when they off sick. So, tonight who is going to go looking for the patients when they got lost on route to the Department of Diagnostic Imaging?
Monday, October 01, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Read and weep
Check out these figures in the news this week:
Total sales of the 6 books on the Booker shortlist 120,770
Sales of Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach 110,615
Leaving total sales for the other 5 books on the shortlist 10,155
I know. I found it hard to believe too.
But it gets a whole lot more depressing when you add in this figure:
Sales of Crystal by Katie Price aka Jordan 159,407
How many times do I have to say it?
Don't write because you believe you'll achieve fame and fortune from your books.
Not unless you already have said f&f for some other achievement -
- like having surgically enhanced breasts and being married to an Australian one hit wonder.
Total sales of the 6 books on the Booker shortlist 120,770
Sales of Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach 110,615
Leaving total sales for the other 5 books on the shortlist 10,155
I know. I found it hard to believe too.
But it gets a whole lot more depressing when you add in this figure:
Sales of Crystal by Katie Price aka Jordan 159,407
How many times do I have to say it?
Don't write because you believe you'll achieve fame and fortune from your books.
Not unless you already have said f&f for some other achievement -
- like having surgically enhanced breasts and being married to an Australian one hit wonder.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Cheeky blagger
Derec Jones aka Skint Writer aka publisher, author, artist, cook, poet etc aka Wales's very own Hovis boy has come up with yet another new initiative -
the Opening Chapter blag.
(blog + mag = blag. Geddit?)
You'll find articles by many familiar names and faces including one by yours truly about Bookarazzi.
So why are you still here?
Go on! Check it out ...
the Opening Chapter blag.
(blog + mag = blag. Geddit?)
You'll find articles by many familiar names and faces including one by yours truly about Bookarazzi.
So why are you still here?
Go on! Check it out ...
Me … me … on me strengths
- Voice
I’ve said before that my blog voice, fiction voice and Real Life voice are all pretty much the same.
The following 3 in the 3rd person …
(Are you following the numerology here?)
- I’m a keen observer (aka nosey cow)
I’m watching you ...
I eavesdrop on your conversations …
I imagine your story.
(Not scaring you, am I?)
- I’m also pathologically empathetic
This means I’ll often end up putting your needs before my own.
(Though if you don’t agree, I’ll understand of course …)
- I’m a natural story teller
My life is strung together like a series of anecdotes.
I can go on for hours (and frequently do) conjuring up tales from my past or from family history.
- And I’m an avid reader
Since I first toddled my way round the shelves of the children’s library, I’ve always had a book on the go.
I read in all styles and genres and though these days I read more critically, seeing what works and what doesn’t has become an additional part of the pleasure.
I feel sorry for people who are unwilling or unable to access the infinite worlds contained between the covers of a book.
(Are you listening, sons of mine?)
I’m not going to do the tagging thing –
- just do it if it chimes with you.
Techy trauma
So today was my first day since July (yes, really) when I have been home and didn't have to either go to see my dad or edit an MS.
I was planning on a protracted surfing session ...
So what happens?
No broadband connection ...
40 mins on phone to Mumbai - no result.
Cleared desk and wrote a little.
(My current book wanted to know who I was since it's been so long since I'd paid her any attention.)
Then I had a brainwave.
I'd organised changing my ISP (gasp) but hadn't rec'd any written confirmation so hadn't informed my current provider yet.
Wasn't worried - was told it wouldn't happen 'til end Oct anyway.
Just in case there was a connection with the non-connection (oo-er) I tried ringing the new posse.
Cue yet another 40 min phone call to another number in Mumbai.
Because yes - they'd swapped me without letting me know.
So now I've just finally arrived online -
- 10 mins before I have to leave to pick up Little Guy from school.
Them's the breaks ...
I was planning on a protracted surfing session ...
So what happens?
No broadband connection ...
40 mins on phone to Mumbai - no result.
Cleared desk and wrote a little.
(My current book wanted to know who I was since it's been so long since I'd paid her any attention.)
Then I had a brainwave.
I'd organised changing my ISP (gasp) but hadn't rec'd any written confirmation so hadn't informed my current provider yet.
Wasn't worried - was told it wouldn't happen 'til end Oct anyway.
Just in case there was a connection with the non-connection (oo-er) I tried ringing the new posse.
Cue yet another 40 min phone call to another number in Mumbai.
Because yes - they'd swapped me without letting me know.
So now I've just finally arrived online -
- 10 mins before I have to leave to pick up Little Guy from school.
Them's the breaks ...
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
A chance to make a difference
I wanted to share the following email from Avaaz with you:
After decades of brutal dictatorship, the people of Burma are rising--and they need our help.
Today over 100,000 people are on the streets of Rangoon, more around the country. When protesters last marched in 1988, the military massacred thousands.
But this time it can be different--if only the world stands with the marchers. The United Nations summit starts today in New York. Let's raise an emergency global campaign, demanding they press the Burmese generals to negotiate rather than crush the demonstrators. We'll deliver it to Security Council members--particularly China's Hu Jintao, until now the military junta's protector--and to media at the UN this week.
Sign our emergency petition supporting the peaceful protests in Burma then spread the word.
For decades the Burmese dictatorship fought off pressure--imprisoning elected leader Aung San Suu Kyi and democracy activists, wiping out thousands of villages in the provinces, bringing miseries from forced labour to refugee camps. One-third of children under 5 now suffer malnutrition; millions are down to one meal a day.
But last Tuesday Buddhist monks and nuns, overwhelmingly respected in Burma, began marching and chanting prayers. The protests spread--now they're growing by tens of thousands every day, as ordinary people join in. They've broken the chains of fear and given hope to 52 million Burmese.
However, this hope is hanging by a thread. While hesitating to attack the respected monks, the regime is reported to be organising violence. Demonstrators have already been beaten, shots have been fired.
This is one of those moments where the world can make the difference: standing shoulder to shoulder with the Burmese people, helping to shine a dissolving light on tyranny. Let's call on powers at the UN--in particular, China (next year's Olympics host)--to warn the generals that violence will have the gravest consequences, and the time has come for change.
People power is rising through the streets of Burma today. Let the demonstrators know the world is with them. Click to sign the petition, then tell everyone you know.
PS: The government has just threatened the monks--here's an Associated Press article:
And we've just heard this from the international Burma Campaign: the military has reportedly ordered a battalion of soldiers to shave their heads, pose as monks and operate as agents provocateurs. This might be the first first step towards a bloody crackdown. See here for more background.
After decades of brutal dictatorship, the people of Burma are rising--and they need our help.
 Click Here to Sign Now |
But this time it can be different--if only the world stands with the marchers. The United Nations summit starts today in New York. Let's raise an emergency global campaign, demanding they press the Burmese generals to negotiate rather than crush the demonstrators. We'll deliver it to Security Council members--particularly China's Hu Jintao, until now the military junta's protector--and to media at the UN this week.
Sign our emergency petition supporting the peaceful protests in Burma then spread the word.
For decades the Burmese dictatorship fought off pressure--imprisoning elected leader Aung San Suu Kyi and democracy activists, wiping out thousands of villages in the provinces, bringing miseries from forced labour to refugee camps. One-third of children under 5 now suffer malnutrition; millions are down to one meal a day.
But last Tuesday Buddhist monks and nuns, overwhelmingly respected in Burma, began marching and chanting prayers. The protests spread--now they're growing by tens of thousands every day, as ordinary people join in. They've broken the chains of fear and given hope to 52 million Burmese.
However, this hope is hanging by a thread. While hesitating to attack the respected monks, the regime is reported to be organising violence. Demonstrators have already been beaten, shots have been fired.
This is one of those moments where the world can make the difference: standing shoulder to shoulder with the Burmese people, helping to shine a dissolving light on tyranny. Let's call on powers at the UN--in particular, China (next year's Olympics host)--to warn the generals that violence will have the gravest consequences, and the time has come for change.
People power is rising through the streets of Burma today. Let the demonstrators know the world is with them. Click to sign the petition, then tell everyone you know.
PS: The government has just threatened the monks--here's an Associated Press article:
And we've just heard this from the international Burma Campaign: the military has reportedly ordered a battalion of soldiers to shave their heads, pose as monks and operate as agents provocateurs. This might be the first first step towards a bloody crackdown. See here for more background.
Monday, September 24, 2007
The shining lights of the litblogs
In case you've missed these exciting developments in the litblogosphere:
Cailleach's new poetry book, Kairos, has been published and she's embarking on a promo tour.
Pundy's going it (not so) alone (we're all here) and his book, A Half Life of One, will soon be available.
And that Shameless leader of the pride has a new initiative - a collective short story - here.
Cailleach's new poetry book, Kairos, has been published and she's embarking on a promo tour.
Pundy's going it (not so) alone (we're all here) and his book, A Half Life of One, will soon be available.
And that Shameless leader of the pride has a new initiative - a collective short story - here.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
(de)sign of the times
I stepped well out of my usual sphere yesterday, socially, geographically and culturally.
Mel and I were invited to the press launch I told you about here.
I tried to do my posh totty impersonation (always doomed to failure) ...
... while Mel donned a Guantanamo orange jacket.
She said she looked like she'd been tango-ed.
I said she looked gorgeous.
I love things like this on one level.
All those people I'd never usually rub shoulders with ...
All those conversations I'd never usually be able to eavesdrop on ...
Although I'd give anything for a cloak of invisibility.
Oh to see without being seen ...
It was all achingly hip.
But there was nowhere to sit that didn't have a hefty price tag, so I could only manage aching hips ...
It's a fascinating juxtaposition:
30 Fuse designers exhibiting the Next Best Thing in lampshades, furniture, flying ducks and much more ...
at Partridge Fine Arts- one of the most venerable antiques dealers out there.
The future meets the past in the present.
Mel and I had a hideous Mr Bean moment.
As we gazed at our reflections in a huge ornate mirror (a snip at £550,000) we tried to work out what it would take to create a new record:
Most damage done by 2 mildly pissed bloggers demonstrating the domino effect at an exclusive antiques gallery -
ie if I tripped over this chair, fell onto this table which upended, sending that massive vase hurtling onto that mirror, which then crashed down onto this sideboard ...
Anyway, the exhibition continues to 25th September and entry is free so go and check it out.
Carefully ...
(PS Thanks to Flying Monkey for the invite.)
Mel and I were invited to the press launch I told you about here.
I tried to do my posh totty impersonation (always doomed to failure) ...
... while Mel donned a Guantanamo orange jacket.
She said she looked like she'd been tango-ed.
I said she looked gorgeous.
I love things like this on one level.
All those people I'd never usually rub shoulders with ...
All those conversations I'd never usually be able to eavesdrop on ...
Although I'd give anything for a cloak of invisibility.
Oh to see without being seen ...
It was all achingly hip.
But there was nowhere to sit that didn't have a hefty price tag, so I could only manage aching hips ...
It's a fascinating juxtaposition:
30 Fuse designers exhibiting the Next Best Thing in lampshades, furniture, flying ducks and much more ...
at Partridge Fine Arts- one of the most venerable antiques dealers out there.
The future meets the past in the present.
Mel and I had a hideous Mr Bean moment.
As we gazed at our reflections in a huge ornate mirror (a snip at £550,000) we tried to work out what it would take to create a new record:
Most damage done by 2 mildly pissed bloggers demonstrating the domino effect at an exclusive antiques gallery -
ie if I tripped over this chair, fell onto this table which upended, sending that massive vase hurtling onto that mirror, which then crashed down onto this sideboard ...
Anyway, the exhibition continues to 25th September and entry is free so go and check it out.
Carefully ...
(PS Thanks to Flying Monkey for the invite.)
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Do your bit for fiction ...
Elizabeth is involved in an interesting project called Manchester Blog Stories.
A fictional blog you can help to shape, set in real timeManchester
Entertainment for the reader ...
... a challenge for the writer!
A fictional blog you can help to shape, set in real time
Entertainment for the reader ...
... a challenge for the writer!
Monday, September 17, 2007
TheirTube
I've never restricted our sons' surfing habits.
I didn't think it necessary.
We flatter ourselves that we've done a sufficiently good job as parents to ensure they know where to go and what's ok.
Yesterday I happened to be passing (the laptop is in my bedroom) and saw they were on one of their frequent visits to YouTube.
Their search history of the site was on screen.
Let's see now.
What videos had my little darlings been looking for?
First on the list:
PINGU.
Ahhh - how sweet is that?
Next up:
CHARLIE THE UNICORN.
Bizarre but pretty harmless I think. They don't get it anyway.
(Neither do I.)
Moving on:
PAWN.
(splutters)
Oh right ...
(twitches)
So ...
(clears throat)
It seems that ... er ...
(draws deep breath)
my dear sweet boys ...
(hot flush creeps up torso and over neck like advancing fog)
have been searching for videos of ...
(sweat breaks out on upper lip)
... um ... chess games.
How very ... er ... precocious ...
(lips turn up into rictus smile while eyes dart left and right - a look best described as demonic).
I didn't think it necessary.
We flatter ourselves that we've done a sufficiently good job as parents to ensure they know where to go and what's ok.
Yesterday I happened to be passing (the laptop is in my bedroom) and saw they were on one of their frequent visits to YouTube.
Their search history of the site was on screen.
Let's see now.
What videos had my little darlings been looking for?
First on the list:
PINGU.
Ahhh - how sweet is that?
Next up:
CHARLIE THE UNICORN.
Bizarre but pretty harmless I think. They don't get it anyway.
(Neither do I.)
Moving on:
PAWN.
(splutters)
Oh right ...
(twitches)
So ...
(clears throat)
It seems that ... er ...
(draws deep breath)
my dear sweet boys ...
(hot flush creeps up torso and over neck like advancing fog)
have been searching for videos of ...
(sweat breaks out on upper lip)
... um ... chess games.
How very ... er ... precocious ...
(lips turn up into rictus smile while eyes dart left and right - a look best described as demonic).
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Despair is not the way forward
Please go here to see Absolute Vanilla's Very Important Post re Darfur.
Check out the comments too.
Then sign the petition.
Check out the comments too.
Then sign the petition.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
New Year ... Old Debi ...
We're off later today to stay with dad for Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year.
It's traditionally a time for contemplation and meditation.
The way things have been going recently, I'll just be glad if it's not constipation and medication.
Not that there's a problem with my bowels, I'm sure you'll be happy to know ...
... but my life does feel a teensy bit stuck at present.
This was the post I wrote this time last year.
Seems I still have a lot of work to do on some of those aims.
(Especially the 'ratbag in the morning' and 'shrieking over the homework' ones.)
But ...
... I'm now earning money from freelance editing ...
... and I give thanks that we'll be spending new year with dad again.
So there has been definite movement after all.
It's traditionally a time for contemplation and meditation.
The way things have been going recently, I'll just be glad if it's not constipation and medication.
Not that there's a problem with my bowels, I'm sure you'll be happy to know ...
... but my life does feel a teensy bit stuck at present.
This was the post I wrote this time last year.
Seems I still have a lot of work to do on some of those aims.
(Especially the 'ratbag in the morning' and 'shrieking over the homework' ones.)
But ...
... I'm now earning money from freelance editing ...
... and I give thanks that we'll be spending new year with dad again.
So there has been definite movement after all.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
The Times They Have a-Changed
A quote from Ian Rankin in yesterday's Indie:
'I'm always happy to do interviews; it's certainly better than being ignored. For the first 4 or 5 Rebus novels, hardly anyone took any notice. I would have died for attention.'
I happen to know that Rankin was very nearly dropped by his publisher at that point that he's talking about.
The first Rebus novel was published in 1987.
As is obvious from the above quote, sales were slack and reviews scarce.
This continued to be the case for the next few books in the series.
Fast forward 20 years - those early books are now considered collectors' items, the novels have won 4 Crime Writers' Association awards, Rankin won the Diamond Dagger in 2005 and World Book Crime Thriller of the Year Award this year, several of the books have been televised and he has been made an OBE and Scottish national treasure.
Consider this:
If the first 2 books had been published in 2007 instead of 1987, none of the above would have happened.
Once it was clear sales were not taking off big-time, Rankin would not be offered a subsequent deal by his publishers and would struggle to get anyone else to take him on.
Even though this same fate nearly befell him 20 years ago, fortunately there was still a vestige of feeling at that time that it can take an author several books before their career takes off.
'I'm always happy to do interviews; it's certainly better than being ignored. For the first 4 or 5 Rebus novels, hardly anyone took any notice. I would have died for attention.'
I happen to know that Rankin was very nearly dropped by his publisher at that point that he's talking about.
The first Rebus novel was published in 1987.
As is obvious from the above quote, sales were slack and reviews scarce.
This continued to be the case for the next few books in the series.
Fast forward 20 years - those early books are now considered collectors' items, the novels have won 4 Crime Writers' Association awards, Rankin won the Diamond Dagger in 2005 and World Book Crime Thriller of the Year Award this year, several of the books have been televised and he has been made an OBE and Scottish national treasure.
Consider this:
If the first 2 books had been published in 2007 instead of 1987, none of the above would have happened.
Once it was clear sales were not taking off big-time, Rankin would not be offered a subsequent deal by his publishers and would struggle to get anyone else to take him on.
Even though this same fate nearly befell him 20 years ago, fortunately there was still a vestige of feeling at that time that it can take an author several books before their career takes off.
The first flurry
The lovely people at Flying Monkey (some of whom helped to organise the wonderful Wye Fayre) have invited me to the press launch for this:
London Design Festival 15-25 September – free to the public every day (ex.Sunday)
Partridge Fine Art & Fuse UK together present
I Love Design
Partridge Fine Art Ltd, 144-146 New Bond Street, London W1S 2PF
15-25 September – free to the public every day (ex.Sunday)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Possibly the quirkiest coupling of this year’s London Design Festival is Partridge Fine Art’s
hosting of Fuse UK: Partridge is an established dealer in sought-after antiques, Fuse UK a
collective of young and emerging design talent.
Imagine a model wearing a clear acrylic dress (c.2006) seated on a cardboard chair (c.2002) at a rare mahogany and ebony writing table (c.1820) boasting a Louis XVI ormolu-mounted white and black marble portico mantle clock (c.1780)…
Around 30 Fuse product designers will be exhibiting at Partridge. Their pieces range from very beautiful lampshades made of re-cycled card and a maple and cherry sideboard, to a chair that collects the cash that drops from your pockets and flying ducks.
London Design Festival 15-25 September – free to the public every day (ex.Sunday)
Partridge Fine Art & Fuse UK together present
I Love Design
Partridge Fine Art Ltd, 144-146 New Bond Street, London W1S 2PF
15-25 September – free to the public every day (ex.Sunday)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Possibly the quirkiest coupling of this year’s London Design Festival is Partridge Fine Art’s
hosting of Fuse UK: Partridge is an established dealer in sought-after antiques, Fuse UK a
collective of young and emerging design talent.
Imagine a model wearing a clear acrylic dress (c.2006) seated on a cardboard chair (c.2002) at a rare mahogany and ebony writing table (c.1820) boasting a Louis XVI ormolu-mounted white and black marble portico mantle clock (c.1780)…
Around 30 Fuse product designers will be exhibiting at Partridge. Their pieces range from very beautiful lampshades made of re-cycled card and a maple and cherry sideboard, to a chair that collects the cash that drops from your pockets and flying ducks.
Hi, honey. I'm home ...
It may not have escaped your attention that I've been a bit scarce of late.
I have Other Things demanding my attention and to be honest (when have I ever been anything but?) I can't visualise that changing in the foreseeable future.
Expect flurries of activity punctuated by extended fallow periods.
Hope you'll bear with me.
I have Other Things demanding my attention and to be honest (when have I ever been anything but?) I can't visualise that changing in the foreseeable future.
Expect flurries of activity punctuated by extended fallow periods.
Hope you'll bear with me.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
One of those days ...
Not sure if I feel like this ....
... or like this ....
But I sure as hell don't feel like this ...
... or like this ....But I sure as hell don't feel like this ...
It's just a phase I'm going through ...
He's a clever bloke, that John Baker.
Knowing he was going to be away for a large chunk of the summer, he devised a cunning plan to ensure his blog was regularly updated.
He asked a whole legion of authors a single question and their responses have formed the content of John's posts over the last few weeks.
I was flattered to be asked.
But there was a problem -
- I found the question itself really hard.
What phases are involved in the creation of a text?
Oo-er. Do what, squire?
If you're interested, you can see my fumbling attempts to analyse my literary processes here.
Knowing he was going to be away for a large chunk of the summer, he devised a cunning plan to ensure his blog was regularly updated.
He asked a whole legion of authors a single question and their responses have formed the content of John's posts over the last few weeks.
I was flattered to be asked.
But there was a problem -
- I found the question itself really hard.
What phases are involved in the creation of a text?
Oo-er. Do what, squire?
If you're interested, you can see my fumbling attempts to analyse my literary processes here.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Summer of 2007
SCENE 1 Wear Farm, Teign Estuary, South Devon.
CUE:
Watching passage of river twice daily from raging torrent to mud flats.
Cooking on driftwood fires on river bank.
Toasting marshmallows.
Gazing at bloated orange full moon rising from sea behind Shaldon.
G's mercy killing of a shot hare -
- who comes back to haunt us on the full tide.
SCENE 2 Minx, Confy and the Feckers' beautiful home, Cornwall.
CUE:
Best possible company.
Wonderful food.
Hot baths.
Endless guitar riffs.
Brilliant beach (or anywhere else) reading - Lonely Werewolf Girl by Martin Millar.
Beach boys in sea 6 hours a day.
Surfy dudes rule.
SCENE 3 Budleigh Farm, Moretonhamstead, Dartmoor, Devon.
CUE:
Torrential rain.
Table tennis in barn.
Cooking in long barn in field.
Wild moor.
Friendly fox (who helped himself to our food supplies).
SCENE 4 Corner Site, Osmington Mills, Dorset.
CUE:
Freezing temperatures, gale force winds, relentless rain.
Break out aran sweater and parka. (It is August after all.)
Marshmallow Boys/Surfy Dudes/Trekkie Lads now morph into Skateboard Kids.
More endless guitar riffs. (I think I now know how Leonard Cohen's mum might have felt.)
Fossil hunting at Charmouth.
Break camp in pouring rain. (Big time camping no-no.)
So after all that the theme tune for this holiday turned out to be that other Marley classic, Trenchfoot Rock.
NOT-SO-GRAND FINALE Home, South London.
CUE:
Mon pm
First Born said it was a strange feeling seeing what had ostensibly been your home until last night now hanging on a washing line and dripping into a bath.
I can't trace dad!
I've called him daily while we were away but tonight there's no reply.
Call neighbour who lets himself in and confirms dad's not there.
Phone local A&E. They say they haven't seen him.
Spend night having no idea where he is.
Tues am
Try ringing hospital again.
'Morris Alper? Oh yes - he's one of our volunteers isn't he? I was here when he was brought in yesterday. He's been transferred to the Royal Free.'
So there we have it.
Dad fell in the street ...
on his face ...
about 2 hours before we reached home.
Yesterday Dorset -
- today criss-crossing London to his flat, to the hospital, back home again ...
Wed am
Second day home.
I get a phone call to say my Uncle Monty has died.
He was mum's younger brother and the last of his generation on that side of the family.
So last night it was back across London yet again - this time to visit my cousins sitting shiva.
Thurs
Back to see dad again.
They're keeping him until Tues at least as he's so frail and shaken.
The appalling swelling has gone down a bit but new livid bruises seem to have sprouted to add to the missing teeth, black eyes, fat lip, scratched glasses etc.
Finally had a chance to check my emails and blog.
I have over 1500 pieces of sodding spam!
Um ... I hate to say this but ...
... I think I need a holiday.
CUE:
Watching passage of river twice daily from raging torrent to mud flats.
Cooking on driftwood fires on river bank.
Toasting marshmallows.
Gazing at bloated orange full moon rising from sea behind Shaldon.
G's mercy killing of a shot hare -
- who comes back to haunt us on the full tide.
SCENE 2 Minx, Confy and the Feckers' beautiful home, Cornwall.
CUE:
Best possible company.
Wonderful food.
Hot baths.
Endless guitar riffs.
Brilliant beach (or anywhere else) reading - Lonely Werewolf Girl by Martin Millar.Beach boys in sea 6 hours a day.
Surfy dudes rule.
SCENE 3 Budleigh Farm, Moretonhamstead, Dartmoor, Devon. CUE:
Torrential rain.
Table tennis in barn.
Cooking in long barn in field.
Wild moor.
Friendly fox (who helped himself to our food supplies).SCENE 4 Corner Site, Osmington Mills, Dorset.
CUE:
Freezing temperatures, gale force winds, relentless rain.
Break out aran sweater and parka. (It is August after all.)
Marshmallow Boys/Surfy Dudes/Trekkie Lads now morph into Skateboard Kids.More endless guitar riffs. (I think I now know how Leonard Cohen's mum might have felt.)
Fossil hunting at Charmouth.
Break camp in pouring rain. (Big time camping no-no.)
So after all that the theme tune for this holiday turned out to be that other Marley classic, Trenchfoot Rock.
NOT-SO-GRAND FINALE Home, South London.
CUE:
Mon pm
First Born said it was a strange feeling seeing what had ostensibly been your home until last night now hanging on a washing line and dripping into a bath.
I can't trace dad!
I've called him daily while we were away but tonight there's no reply.
Call neighbour who lets himself in and confirms dad's not there.
Phone local A&E. They say they haven't seen him.
Spend night having no idea where he is.
Tues am
Try ringing hospital again.
'Morris Alper? Oh yes - he's one of our volunteers isn't he? I was here when he was brought in yesterday. He's been transferred to the Royal Free.'
So there we have it.
Dad fell in the street ...
on his face ...
about 2 hours before we reached home.
Yesterday Dorset -
- today criss-crossing London to his flat, to the hospital, back home again ...
Wed am
Second day home.
I get a phone call to say my Uncle Monty has died.
He was mum's younger brother and the last of his generation on that side of the family.
So last night it was back across London yet again - this time to visit my cousins sitting shiva.
Thurs
Back to see dad again.
They're keeping him until Tues at least as he's so frail and shaken.
The appalling swelling has gone down a bit but new livid bruises seem to have sprouted to add to the missing teeth, black eyes, fat lip, scratched glasses etc.
Finally had a chance to check my emails and blog.
I have over 1500 pieces of sodding spam!
Um ... I hate to say this but ...
... I think I need a holiday.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Sitting on the edge of the world, ma
So there I was, sitting on the edge of the world, surrounded by people I love ...... and thinking about ...
... blogging.
When I started my blog, back in Jan 2006, I wasn't sure what I expected to come from it or what I hoped for.
I know what I didn't expect though.
I wasn't looking to form new relationships,
to forge new bonds,
to make new friends.
But just look at what's happened!
I posted recently about the wonderful bloggers I've met in the last 18 months or so who have made the transition from Blog Life into my Real Life.
And this here Minx is truly the Cornish cream of the crop.
It's not just Minx and Debi - fellow writers and bloggers - any more.
It's our families,
our trajectories,
our very LIVES which have inextricably entwined to the mutual enrichment of us all.
What a gift.
What an utterly unanticipated blessing!
Thank you, blogosphere.
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