Thursday extracts. A vivid picture from Kate Mosse.

The sun climbed ever higher in the sky. The churchmen suffered the most in their black worsted habits. Rivulets of sweat were dripping down the Bishop's forehead and Jehan Congost's spongy face had turned an unpleasant blotchy red, the colour of foxgloves.

*****************
Labyrinth
Kate Mosse
2005
Orion Press

Reading off the rails - updated

You might remember at the start of the year I set myself a reading challenge. I only had to get through 24 books in a year, which isn't too much of a problem for me, except I was derailed by the sad death of Terry Pratchett. He was, of course, no stranger to Death. The skeleton everyone loves to read about is a regular character in (almost) every Pratchett book ever published. HE TALKS IN CAPITALS. You can't miss him. And I've been spending time with him since I heard the news of Pratchett's passing. Not as much as Pratchett has, of course, but enough. I read Mort first, the story of how Death takes on an apprentice. I followed that with Johnny and the Dead, the tale of Johnny Maxwell, an ordinary boy who has extraordinary experiences. In this case he finds he can see dead people who 'live' in a cemetery that's about to be demolished to make way for a new development.

I'll get back on track with the challenge soon, but I'm not promising I'll fulfill all the requirements. But then, who cares if I don't? 

Update:   There is a section in the reading challenge that says: "A book that you would consider a guilty pleasure (Read, and then realise that good entertainment is nothing to feel guilty over) "
So I'm claiming Terry Pratchett as my guilty pleasure. I've loved his books since I first found him and I tend to go back to him when I can't think what else to read.  So I've done another one!

A YA novel

Hate List
Jennifer Brown
2009

Back onto the Reading Challenge..............

I wasn't exactly looking forward to the YA novel because, well, I'm not a YA! However, I managed to get hold of a copy of Hate List by Jennifer Brown and I have to admit I was very pleasantly surprised. I'm not really sure why it's classed as YA, other than the fact that it's set in an American high school and the narrator is a teenager who attends it.

Valerie Leftman is not exactly at the centre of school life. In fact she's a bit of an outsider. She and her boyfriend Nick draw up a hate list of all the people who annoy them and Valerie keeps a notebook of what they did and why they deserve to be on the list. She thinks it's a bit of a joke. He brings a shotgun to school one day and starts killing everyone whose name is in the book, before turning the gun on himself. In the chaos Valerie throws herself in front of one of the intended victims and is badly wounded in the leg. Hate List covers the aftermath of the event and how Valerie comes to terms with her part in the massacre, after she wakes up in hospital recovering from her injuries.

For a YA novel it deals with some pretty adult questions: guilt, blame, social isolation, mental health, family relationships, broken marriage, recovery and even forgiveness. At no point does the novel talk down to the reader. In fact, if it hadn't told me it was a YA novel I really wouldn't have realised.

I expected the language to be simplistic, possibly even steeped in slang and repetitive, like, yeah? But this was no Fifty Shades of Grey. It was well written, a damn good story, and full of sympathetic characters even an old bird like me could relate to.

This has been a very pleasant effect of taking part in a book challenge. I read something I otherwise wouldn't have dreamed of picking up, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

A book that takes place in Asia

 It's been a while since I updated you on the Reading Challenge

The Way of the Traitor
Laura Joh Rowland
1998

It's the tale of Sano Ichiro, the shogun's Most Honorable Investigator of Events, Situations, and People, who is sent to Nagasaki, in theory as an ambassador. But he has been undermined by one of his enemies in the shogun's court and treachery is everywhere. When a Dutch trader's body washes ashore Sano is given the task of investigating the death. The Netherlands and Japan have a valuable trading association but the relationship is strained, and the wrong finding could destroy the fragile peace. Not only could a mistake plunge his country into war, but Sano's own safety is threatened by the very people he is working with.

It's a cracking tale that gives interesting insights into 17th century Japanese politics while offering a tense whodunnit alongside. I worried that the history would drown out the thriller, but I was wrong. There was a delicate balance between education and entertainment and I'd be happy to read more of the series.

And how's the reading challenge going?

See here for an explanation.

I finished the Jeffery Deaver. Pretty typical stuff. The Skin Collector references his arguably most successful title The Bone Collector.

Ironside: Subliminal racism? 

(It was made into a film starring Denzel Washington after all. Nothing intentionally racist - but I never imagined Lincoln Rhyme as black. I could see Thom, his assistant, as black though. I suspect I saw too many episodes of Ironside when I was a kid.  And while we're on the topic of casting book characters for movies.... Angelina Jolie?  Really?")

I digress.

If you've read many Deaver you'll know the formula and you'll be able to work out whodunnit. Or at least it won't come as a big surprise because there's always a twist in the tale isn't there? And this one was a bit predictable really. I guess the real fun in the series is JD's creative ways of killing people, rather than the Holmesian ways he solves the crimes.

(Rhyme is very arrogant in the same way Sherlock was, and I'm not sure which I find most irritating: the gloating, or the conviction that no-one else could do it.)

Anyway, using a tattoo machine to inject poison is a novel way to kill someone and the murder is beautifully described in Deaver's unique and detailed style. A very good start that draws you in, particularly if you are inked yourself.

Currently on  a YA novel that I'll tell you more about another time. I'm still not sure why it's defined as 'YA' (Young Adult fiction) other than it's about a shooting at a US high school and written from the perspective of one of those involved. Of course I'm not a 'YA' and I suspect the author isn't either, so I have no idea how authentic it is, but it's not a bad read so far.

Watch this space. 

Maltese, perhaps? Said X marks the spot. (9) *

Like tea, we say, is a daily treat.
In boxes, although not on shelves.
It's completely clear in black and white.
Optimistic writers use a pen.
Do you need a clue? It's cryptic.
I am left blank.  Too down.


*Crossword

Reading challenges

It looks from blog browsing as if reading challenges are in this year. I probably should have started back in January, but I've picked a relatively easy one that will require only an average of a book a fortnight.  (just web search for reading challenges to find your own) And since I've already done a couple of the challenges by dint of my ordinary reading I guess I'm not too far behind.

The challenges are:

A book written by someone when they were under the age of 25
A book written by someone when they were over the age of 65
A collection of short stories (either by one person or an anthology by many people) *
A book published by an indie press
A book by or about someone that identifies as LGBTQ
A book by a person whose gender is different from your own **
A book that takes place in Asia
A book by an author from Africa
A book that is by or about someone from an indigenous culture (Native Americans, Aboriginals, etc.)
A microhistory
A YA novel
A sci-fi novel
A romance novel
A National Book Award, Man Booker Prize or Pulitzer Prize winner from the last decade
A book that is a retelling of a classic story (fairytale, Shakespearian play, classic novel, etc.)
An audiobook ***
A collection of poetry
A book that someone else has recommended to you
A book that was originally published in another language
A graphic novel, a graphic memoir or a collection of comics of any kind
A book that you would consider a guilty pleasure (Read, and then realize that good entertainment is nothing to feel guilty over)
A book published before 1850
A book published this year
A self-improvement book (can be traditionally or non-traditionally considered “self-improvement”)

*  I got the Ian Rankin Rebus anthology for Christmas and I'm well through it already,
** I'm about to start The Skin Collector by Jeffery Deaver
*** I also got the audio book of Tuesdays with Morrie and I've been listening to it in the car on my way to work.

I'll keep you updated.

Dear Mr Birkin

(A response to a writing challenge set by Rosalind.)

Dear Mr Birkin

Did you know all those years ago how much I hated coming to see you? You represented a lot of pain and suffering in my childhood. Because of what you did to me and inflicted on me I became a victim in almost every area of my life. You made me look different, so I was the target of teasing and bullying from practically every kid in school. (Except Brian, but his sister was one of your patients too, so he understood.)

Let's face it, what you had to do to me was awful. You encased me in a metal frame that forced my spine to stay straight and I had to wear it night and day for years. I could only take it off when I had a bath, then it was back on before bed. Sleeping in it was hard. It was so uncomfortable with its wide leather belt around my middle from hips to ribs, buckled in tight so it wouldn't slip.

Then the metal bars that held up the headrest. They had sliding bars that were held up with screws and bolts. The screws ripped the sheets and my clothes and sometimes they ripped me if I tried to stretch across my front to reach something I wanted.

Yes, coming to see you was always a low point in my life and sometimes we had to do it every two weeks and that was dreadful because it was 60 miles away. People today don't realise how far away 60 miles was back then. You couldn't do it in less than a couple of hours and we always got appointments for early in the morning so we had to set off when it was still dark to be there on time. But when we arrived we were all called in what seemed like a random order, so sometimes we sat in that boring waiting room for another two hours before I was sent for X rays, then another hour before we finally got to see you and whichever medical students you had with you that day.

Do you have any idea what it does to a child to stand, half naked, while total strangers prod and poke you and treat you like a piece of meat? I was never asked if I minded being on show; never asked if it was OK to pull and push me around and stare at my half-naked and probably very cold body.

Three operations and years of X-rays and scans and photos and prodding and poking and being ignored when I asked questions. It went on till I was 21, remember?  I was still standing half-naked in front of total strangers when I was 21!  Then you said ' Right, OK.  I don't need to see you again.' and that was it. No fanfare. No fireworks. No real goodbye. Nothing.

The one thing in my life that I had looked forward to for as long as I can remember was handed to me and then nothing. 21 and nothing left to look forward to. Why, among all the years of treatment, hadn't you warned me that I would need something afterwards? That there would be an afterwards? I had to rebuild my life from scratch and it's not been easy.

So why, all these years later, do I remember you fondly?  You made my life hell. But the thing is, you made my life.  Without your treatments I'd have died years ago, my internal organs crushed within my failing skeleton. So thank you for everything you did. Even though I hated every minute of it.

Me and Brian - who didn't bully me because he understood. 

********************
(Published as written - no corrections. So I apologise for inconsistent hyphens and any typos you find.) 

A memory

I've been over at the Toads again. Today's prompt is a video of a country music singer. It triggered this piece of doggerel.

I remember a night in a bar, far away
A stop on a road-trip in East USA.
A group of musicians arrayed to one side -
an eclectic group my companion decried.
A piano, a drum kit, guitar with a slide:
Their music was homely, a country-based thing.
But the lyrics familiar meant I too could sing,
so I had a great evening (my friend went to bed
and spent her time reading a novel instead)
I formed a fun memory, where sometimes I stray
 in my mind to that night in a bar, far away.
And when I hear bluegrass with twanging guitars,
see a real country singer with rhinestones like stars,
I'm immediately back to that music-filled place -
totally happy with a smile on my face!

Spelunking

"I just don't understand the attraction. Why would you travel half way around the world, to a beautiful country, then spend your time underground?" It was clear that my opinion depressed her.

"Because it's beautiful underground too," she said, with a hint of wistfulness and her eyes not quite focussed, as though she was already there. "Besides, it's the largest known cave in the world."

"But underground is just rocks. Nothing but rocks."

"It has the tallest known stalagmites in the world too."

"So they're big rocks."

She huffed at me and brought her focus back to give me a hard stare. "I suppose there's no point in telling you there's an underground river as well?"

I shook my head. I was never going to feel her attraction to caves and caving. It's not that I don't like rocks and rivers. I'm actually fond of limestone country. But I think it's much better in sunshine.

***********

This has been written in response to a challenge at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
It reminded me of a conversation I had several years ago with a college friend who spent a lot of spare time potholing.  Of course, she was only planning to go to Derbyshire, not Vietnam, but the idea is the same.

I'm not sure whether I was supposed to write poetry. But this is what the Muse brought.

National Poetry Day

They want us all to remember a poem that we learned as children.  I realised that Pooh was probably one of my earliest 'poets' and I can still recite this by heart now.

In which Tigger is unbounced...............

If Rabbit
Was bigger
And fatter
And stronger,
Or bigger
Than Tigger,
If Tigger was smaller,
Then Tigger's bad habit
Of bouncing at Rabbit
Would matter
No longer,
If Rabbit
Was taller.

A A Milne

Thursday extracts: a little grammar lesson

Abe picked up the yoghurt container and peered at the label.
"Non-fat shouldn't taste this good. You're sure it's non-fat?"
"That's what it says. And less calories too."
"Fewer calories."
"Less." Jack pointed to the bright yellow flag on the container. "Says so right there."
"I should accept a yoghurt label as my authority on grammar? Trust me, Jack, it's 'fewer'. Less fat - okay. But fewer calories."

F Paul Wilson
Conspiracies (A Repairman Jack novel)
2008

*********
Gotta love a thriller writer who makes space for an English lesson!

More Repairman Jack

Looking back, volume two of the Repairman Jack series (Legacies) was relatively normal. True, there was a hefty chunk of science fiction mixed in with the mystery thriller - a kind of Mickey Spillane meets Isaac Asimov - but after the surprises of volume one it was relatively straightforward, particularly since the chosen bit of science fiction is thought by some to be real. Conspiracy theorists would have you believe that it actually happened, but was hushed up for political reasons. (And that's the only clue you're getting. Read it yourself!) So the theme of book two might just be what inspired volume three - Conspiracies - because that same idea turns up again, alongside UFOs, secret military societies, satanist plots, and a host of other half-baked theories.

This time Jack's called in to track down one of the leaders of a group of conspiracy nuts, who has gone missing before a conference where she is scheduled to reveal her version of the truth behind many odd happenings. The group is called Society for the Exposure of Secret Organizations and Unacknowledged Phenomena, or SESOUP, pronounced 'sea-soup',  The name gives F Paul Wilson the opportunity to make lots of jokes along the lines of 'bouillabaisse' and 'fish stew'. One of the recurring characters in the series is Abe, Jack's gun supplier, who hides his true trade behind the counter of a sports shop. Abe is the 'voice of reason' who Jack consults whenever his customers become troublesome, or he needs a new weapon. It is Abe, who also doubles as the comedy relief, who is familiar with more versions of sea soup than anyone has a right to be.

Once again it's difficult to tell you much about the book without giving away too much of the plot, but suffice to say the cast of weird characters in Conspiracies is even more creative than in volume one, and almost nobody is what they first appear to be. There are plenty of opportunities for Jack to demonstrate his skills as a righter-of-wrongs, not least in the side story of a domestic violence case. Wilson weaves so many threads and cross-plots into this tale that I admit I'm still not exactly sure who murdered one of the bodies. In fact, given that Jack was the only person who saw the corpse, she might not actually be dead, and could well turn up again in volume four. That's the level of weirdness I'm starting to expect from this series.

An exercise

Sometimes my life seems to take a sudden, sharp turn left. My conscious mind, knowing it should be following a sensible, forward path, tries hard to overcome it, but the demon inside my skull has other plans. The world takes on odd colours; lights are brighter; and objects develop hardened edges. Suddenly I am scared. Everything is too close: traffic, walls, people. And I need to push them away.

***********

69 words
I used to take part in regular writing challenges, but somehow I have diverted from them. I must try harder to keep my creative juices flowing.  This is just as the words came out of my head. I might edit later.

Thriller with a difference

In Jobbing Writer bookworld you can't really beat a decent thriller: detective/private eye potboiler with a cast of miscreants and thugs, and a shining, but flawed, hero will do it for me every time. So when I came across The Tomb by F Paul Wilson I assumed I was in for 400-plus pages of shoot-'em-up hokum. But I was completely unprepared for the plot that followed.

It's a corker of a story and unlike anything I've read before. Repairman Jack puts things right, but he's no fixer of domestic appliances. He's an off-the-grid and off-the-wall soldier of fortune who fights dirty, but somehow manages to make his punishments fit the crime.

When his mother was killed in a pile-up caused by a hooligan's 'fun' idea of throwing a lump of concrete off a flyover and onto a passing car, he sets out to find the person responsible and pays him back by suspending him by the feet off the same flyover, then waiting till a few trucks have gone by.

But that's not the plot, that's just Jack's backstory.

He's a bit like a one-man A-Team: if you can find him, maybe you can hire him. He's expensive, but worth every cent. (The book's set in and around what appears to be New York.) Of course his sometime girlfriend Gia knows how to find him, so when her Aunt goes missing she knows just who to call.

Meanwhile Jack's been hired by a one-armed Indian diplomat to find a necklace stolen from an old lady in a mugging. The customer (they aren't clients - lawyers have clients) insists that the necklace has to be returned by midnight because the original owner, his grandmother, is dying.  Of course Jack succeeds, and is later thanked in a very personal way by the diplomat's sister, who happens to be wearing an identical necklace. (OK. At this point you'd need to be asleep to miss the connection, which would be a shame, because that's the first real hint that this novel is not your usual thriller!)

As the story continues it becomes clear that there's more than a little mysticism going on, including flashbacks to a 19th century raid on a temple of Kali by a renegade member of Queen Victoria's forces, who just happens to be an ancestor of the missing Aunt. That's how the family became fabulously rich, but it's also the time when a young acolyte of the temple lost an arm in a failed battle to stop the looting.

(You still with me here? Should I also point out that the diplomat wears an identical necklace with two large, orange stones that look like eyes?)

That's about as much as I'm going to tell you of the story because I'd hate to ruin such a cracking tale. Suffice to say that Jack finds himself embroiled in a fight with some very unusual opponents, not all of them human.

Since I finished The Tomb at the weekend I've also read Repairman Jack #2 - Legacies, and I've started onto #3 - Conspiracies. There are 15 in all, and I plan to make my way through the lot. Yes, they are that good.

 

Stranger on a (Tube) train

When you find a book lying around in an underground station with a huge label that says the equivalent of 'take me home and read me' it's hard to resist. Not that the book I found was anything I'd have chosen for myself. On the other hand, I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though I didn't expect to.

Scott Mariani's The Alchemist's Secret bills itself as "a lightning-paced treasure hunt thriller which will ensnare fans of Dan Brown, Kate Mosse and the Bourne series". True, it's a bit formulaic, with its retired SAS fighter who has a guilty secret and emotional stunting. Then there's the mysterious multi-millionaire who hires him. The attractive female scientist who is scorned by her peers. And the ancient elixir that could save a young girl's life.

Ben Hope earns his living as a soldier of fortune who rescues kidnapped children. He's trying to make amends for the fact that his little sister was snatched while he was supposed to be looking after her many years earlier. Personally I blame the parents who left a child in the care of a 16-year-old boy while they were staying in Morocco, but that would spoil the plot.

He is employed by a very rich man to track down an ancient secret of how to make an alchemical potion that might just save the life of the man's grand-daughter, who is dying of a rare form of cancer. Hope is reluctant to take the job until he learns that the girl is called Ruth, which just happens to be his missing sister's name.

Within a very short time, in true thriller fashion, he finds he is being shot at, attacked in dark alleys, trapped in a locked car on a level crossing with a high-speed train approaching, and various other risky situations. In between all that he meets modern-day alchemist Dr Roberta Ryder who has her own reasons for tracking down the secret of immortality.

It's a complex trail that leads across France and Italy and teaches you a lot about alchemy and the history of the Cathars, a 12th century religious group who fell foul of Pope Innocent III and were all but wiped out in the vicious persecution that followed. Victims were flayed, blinded, dragged behind horses, mutilated, burned alive and otherwise executed for their beliefs. In one attack a monk asked how to tell the difference between Cathars and Catholics, and was told "kill them all, the Lord will recognise his own". 

The violence of the period is echoed in the book by the presence of a character who revels in the nick-name of The Inquisitor, and goes beyond even the tortures inflicted on the original Cathars. The book has an impressive body count on all sides of the treasure hunt, and killed in some impressive ways. It's a bit gory, but doesn't actually stray into the realms of gross. (Unless you have a very vivid imagination.)

I can't tell you how it ends without spoiling some great plot twists. I did see a couple of them coming, but it didn't spoil things too much. Apparently Ben Hope also features in a follow-up novel The Nemesis Program, and I'm considering tracking it down. So that says a lot.

The only problem I have is that booksontheunderground expects me to return this to the tube for someone else to read. I'm not sure when I'll be back in London, so I now have my own mystery to solve. How can I get it there?

Almost as long as the war

The Pillars of the Earth is set in a time of great turmoil - the first English Civil War, between Stephen and Maud, who both fought for the crown after the death of Henry I. This is the time of the Cadfael books, but Pillars is no police procedural hidden under the gentle mantle of a Benedictine monk.

There are monks, and one of the main characters is in fact a Welshman who has taken the vows of the cloth, but Brother Philip was adopted by the church after his parents were killed by English marauders. The book follows his rise from humble brother through the ranks of increasingly important monastic churches.

Running alongside that is the tale of Tom Builder, a master mason who dreams of one day building his own cathedral, rather than working on the plans of others. Tom's and Philip's ambitions coincide, and the story is based around the ways that the two men's ideas sometimes support each other and sometimes clash.

It's a long book. At just short of 900 pages it does go on a bit, passing through four generations of families in the fictitious town of Kingsbridge. Woven into the lives of all those involved is the Lady Aliena, daughter of the local earl, who falls from grace when her father is imprisoned for treason. She is raped by William, the monstrous son of the man who takes over the manor, and that's where the story really takes off, because she vows to take revenge and restore her brother to the earldom.

It's hard going. Not just for her. Sometimes the book feels as if Follett is labouring to tell the whole history of the period as well as cramming in all of the beastliness and butchery of the era. There are just a few too many hangings, and beatings, and murders, and rapes and thefts, all to show how tough times are and how awful young Lord William is, compared with the old earl. But we know he was no saint either, being one of three powers who allowed an innocent man to hang for the sake of politics.

So it is slightly surprising to discover just a few pages from the end where the whole plot has been leading. Two of the main characters are present at a key event in  history (there's no evidence for this in reality - it's a plot device) and once Follett manages to wangle that, it's as if he loses heart. The last half dozen pages seem rushed after the laborious climb to reach that point. A bit like a roller coaster. Suddenly it's all over.

Now all that might sound like I didn't actually enjoy the read, but that isn't true. I did like getting to know the main characters and the three generations who came after them. And seeing how the various lives intertwined with each other. But I feel as if I was left to drop at the end, rather than having a gentle rounding-up. Yes, I know what happened to everyone, but after the long, involved descriptions of their lives that went before, I wanted more than a couple of sentences each to see them off. I was left feeling cheated, which is a shame.



The Pillars of the Earth
Ken Follett
1989
Signet

Marmalade?

The King's Breakfast
 A A Milne

     The King asked

     The Queen, and

     The Queen asked

     The Dairymaid:

     “Could we have some butter for

     The Royal slice of bread?”

     The Queen asked

     The Dairymaid,

     The Dairymaid

     Said, “Certainly,

     I’ll go and tell

     The cow

     Now

     Before she goes to bed.”

 

     The Dairymaid

     She curtsied,

     And went and told

     The Alderney:

     “Don’t forget the butter for

     The Royal slice of bread.”

 

     The Alderney

     Said sleepily:

     “You’d better tell

     His Majesty

     That many people nowadays

     Like marmalade

     Instead.”

 

     The Dairymaid

     Said, “Fancy!”

     And went to

     Her Majesty.

     She curtsied to the Queen, and

     She turned a little red:

     “Excuse me,

     Your Majesty,

     For taking of

     The liberty,

     But marmalade is tasty, if

     It’s very

     Thickly

     Spread.”

 

     The Queen said

     “Oh!”

     And went to

     His Majesty:

     “Talking of the butter for

     The Royal slice of bread,

     Many people

     Think that

     Marmalade

     Is nicer.

     Would you like to try a little

     Marmalade

     Instead?”

     The King said,

     “Bother!”

     And then he said,

     “Oh, dear me!”

     The King sobbed, “Oh, deary me!”

     And went back to bed.

     “Nobody,”

     He whimpered,

     “Could call me

     A fussy man;

     I only want

     A little bit

     Of butter for

     My bread!”

     The Queen said,

     “There, there!”

     And went to

     The Dairymaid.

     The Dairymaid

     Said, “There, there!”

     And went to the shed.

     The cow said,

     “There, there!

     I didn’t really

     Mean it;

     Here’s milk for his porringer

     And butter for his bread.”

 

     The Queen took

     The butter

     And brought it to

     His Majesty;

     The King said,

     “Butter, eh?”

     And bounced out of bed.

     “Nobody,” he said,

     As he kissed her

     Tenderly,

     “Nobody,” he said,

     As he slid down

     The banisters,

     “Nobody,

     My darling,

     Could call me

     A fussy man—

     BUT

I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!”

And the award for best actress goes to......

Oh, I can't believe it.
Wide eyes. Look around room. Smile.
I don't.....
I just........
I'm so happy.
Blink tears away. Keep eyes wide.
Oh. 
I mean.......
Look around room again. Make eye contact with any casting directors.
Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thankyou thankyou thankyouthankyouthankyou. Everybody thank you.
To choose me from such a talented list of contenders.
Look at each one in turn. Make eye contact and smile so they have to smile back at you.
Oh I have to ........ I mean......
Glance down. Raise eyes slowly through next line.
I'd like to thank everyone who was involved in this. Raise award. I couldn't have done it without you. Everyone has been kind and helpful and generous.
Bring award back to rostrum level. Big smile. Blink. Blink. Dab under eye with spare hand.
I'd like to thank my producer, my director, who was such a help in getting me to fulfil the role, and the writers for creating such a wonderful part for a woman, and the casting director for believing in me and my ability to bring the character to life.
The costume department who made me feel beautiful every time I walked on set, and the make-up artists as well, of course.
And the catering team who made excellent salads so that I could fit in those costumes! Smile. Pause. Sideways look to camera. The camera can be very cruel, you know. Small laugh. Give audience time to respond.
I'd like to thank my parents for allowing me to live my dream of becoming an actress. Thank you to Mummy for taking me along to dancing lessons and encouraging me and thank you to Daddy for paying for my singing tuition and my elocution lessons and being such a rock through it all. And begrudging every penny. See Daddy - it paid off! Smile.
Thank you to my wonderful partner Loving look. who has been such an inspiration. Even though his own acting career never made it past small town rep. This is for both of us Baby! Like hell it is.
Have I forgotten anyone?
Start building tears.
There are so many ......
Arms wide.
The camera crew. The lighting techs. The sound engineers. The editors. The stunt team. The fight scene choreographers.
My teacher in junior school who first noticed that I had talent.
All my directors during my stage career.
My fellow actors who were such fantastic examples to follow.
My friends who have all stood by me.
The critics who have written such great things about me.
The talent scout who first suggested I should aim for movies.
The coffee barista who made my morning espresso every day.
Kissing gestures. My fans.
My dog.
My hairdresser.
The guy at the corner store.............



 

More Shakespeare than you know

Think you don't know any Shakespeare?  You'd be surprised.  Happy Shakespeare's birthday. 

- "For goodness sake" - Henry VIII

- "Neither here not there" - Othello

- "Mum's the word" - Henry VI, Part II

- "Eaten out of house and home" - Henry IV, Part II

- "Knock knock! Who's there?" - Macbeth

- "All's well that ends well" - All's Well That Ends Well

- "With bated breath" - The Merchant of Venice

- "A wild goose chase" - Romeo and Juliet

- "Too much of a good thing" - As You Like It

- "A heart of gold" - Henry V

- "What the dickens" - The Merry Wives of Windsor

- "Puking" - As You Like It

- "Lie low" - Much Ado About Nothing

- "Dead as a doornail" - Henry VI, Part II

- "Not slept one wink" - Cymbeline

- "Foregone conclusion" - Othello

- "The world's mine oyster" - The Merry Wives of Windsor

- "In stitches" - Twelfth Night

- "Naked truth" - Love's Labour's Lost

- "Faint-hearted" - Henry VI, Part I


- "Send him packing" - Henry IV

- "Vanish into thin air" - Othello

- "Own flesh and blood" - Hamlet

- "Truth will out" - The Merchant of Venice

- "Give the devil his due" - Henry IV, Part I

- "There's method in my madness" - Hamlet

- "Salad days" - Antony and Cleopatra

- "Wear your heart on your sleeve" - Othello

- "Spotless reputation" - Richard II

- "Full circle" - King Lear

- "There's the rub" - Hamlet

- "All of a sudden" - The Taming of the Shrew