Thursday extracts: The nature of disappointment

“It was one of those times you feel a sense of loss, even though you didn't have something in the first place. I guess that's what disappointment is- a sense of loss for something you never had.”
Deb Caletti
The Nature of Jade
Simon & Schuster
2007

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Don't ask!

Thursday extracts: Tennyson at the British Museum

The full poem

The quote is set into the floor of the great court at the British Museum.

Canals and poems

I've been asked by an interesting blog whether they can use my photo of a canal bridge to illustrate a poem.

The site's called Waterlines, and it's a blend of history and poetry about the UK's waterways network.

This is the photo. It's of Bridge No 1 on the Trent and Mersey Canal. The poem is, apparently, about this very bridge.  I've said yes, and I await the blog post with interest!

Meanwhile, here's something I wrote some time ago, when Jobbing Writer Morning AJ was known as the History Anorak......



What Masefield Missed

Painted narrow horse-boat with its polished butty
Climbing through the lock pounds, one by one
With a cargo of limestone
Iron waste, spelter
Carpets, vinegar
Or pure black coal.

Based on Cargoes by John Masefield

Thursday extract: you just never know.....

LANGUAGE WARNING - this quoted extract contains strong language and some words that could be considered insulting or defamatory.

'Who you?'
'Friend of DeLisle Marshall. Was on S block with him.'
'Lisle?' The skinny guy relaxed. Some. He looked away from the man who could break him in half and surveyed the world. 'Lisle out?'
Jax laughed. 'Lisle put four rounds into some sad motherfucker's head. There'll be a nigger in the White House 'fore Lisle gets out.'

The Twelfth Card
Jeffery Deaver
2005

Yes - 2005.
Barack Hussein Obama II was elected President of the United States of America in November 2008 and assumed office on January 20 the following year.  Sometimes I forget how unlikely that seemed just a few years earlier!

Thursday extracts: Scottish cormorants

Cormorants stand on the rocks of the Portwilliam shore of Luce Bay. Long-necked, ungainly birds, they stand there while the incoming tide creeps up the shore and mists drift across the bay and up the glen to the Alticry lodge. When the rocks are awash, the birds rise and fly slowly, less than three feet from the surface, out across the water, where they vanish into the mist. The gulls remain afloat on the swell and great waves crash with thunder on the shore. The crash echoes up the cliffs and fades into a soft sigh.

Wigtown Ploughman
John McNeillie
1939

Thursday extracts: weather forecast from Ian Rankin

Rain wasn't falling yet, but it had scheduled an appointment.

Standing in Another Man's Grave
Ian Rankin
2012