Thursday, March 31, 2011

Hello!

Hello world.  I just thought I'd say hello because I've picked up a few new followers over the last couple of weeks and I promise I'm trying to get round to all your blogs to have a read and a comment but it's taking time.

If you have been here a while and you think I might have missed you, feel free to remind me here and I'll make a special effort. I'm not the most organised of people (I think my writing reflects that a bit) so I might have missed some of you. But I swear it's not on purpose. I'm a natural blonde!

Meanwhile THANK YOU to all my LONG TERM FOLLOWERS for your kindness, loyalty and patience.
I appreciate each and every one of you!

And the same applies to you. If you think I've been absent too much lately, give me a nudge and I'll call round at your blog to say Hi!.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Succinctly Yours - Microfiction on a Monday


I've decided to take part in a microfiction challenge.
It's happening over at Grandma's Goulash and you can write either 140 characters or 140 words, based on a photo provided by Grandma. You also have the option to include a Word of the Week. So this week's word is CATER and this is the photo:  (Thanks to Akelamalu for tracking this down!)
Please don’t sit in Charlie’s armchair. We cater for everyone’s wishes here and he hates sharing.

Of course he’s been dead five years.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Reading the classics

Thanks to the very entertaining Nature of Magic Blogfest I have encountered some great new people, including co-host Tessa who has made a pledge to read 12 classics this year. Now that seems like a very good idea to me.

Given that I received 100 free e-books when I bought my new e-reader this is the perfect opportunity for me.  I read a lot of classics at school because I had to, and I can't say I enjoyed them all that much. So there's a few I want to go back to and try again now that I'm a grown up!

One of the first on my list is Silas Marner, although I admit I have already read a part-finished work by Dickens this weekend called A Message From the Sea, which I'm going to count. Beyond that I don't know. I've never read The Great Gatsby and I think I should.

I shall keep you informed how I get on.

This will provide a link that tells you a bit more:

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Once Upon a Time 2: Real Magic

See The Nature of Magic Blogfest at Diamond's Blog

Once upon a time, yes we are having another one of those stories. Why? Because that’s how they always start and it is just a way of telling you that you are about to hear a story, so that you settle down and listen.

Once upon a time there was a castle in the middle of a big town where Lord and Lady Avarici lived with their family. They had three daughters, Isabella, Coronella and Cinderella. So you think now you’ve heard the names that you know the story? Well, maybe so, but you’re probably wrong so keep listening.

The three sisters were all of marriageable age, which in the case of this type of story means anything over about twelve, but Isabella and Coronella were twins and they were a year older than Cinderella. That meant that the two older girls were expected to share everything and dress alike but she had lots of new clothes and shoes and jewellery all to herself.  Cinderella was also naturally blonde and rather pretty, which she was quite fond of pointing out to people.

Like everyone who gets things without much effort, Cinderella really did not appreciate the value of her clothes and finery and she spent a lot of time in the castle kitchens sitting around the fireplace getting filthy as well as being in the way of the staff who all hated her. The exception was a page boy who fancied himself and thought if he sucked up to the boss’s daughter he might make a bit of money out of it.

Well, one day Lady Avarici heard that there was going to be a huge party and the Prince was going to be invited. Of course she needed her daughters to meet some eligible bachelors if she was ever going to get them married off. She bought them all lovely new clothes with matching outfits for the twins but Cinderella insisted on something much more elegant and expensive.

On the day of the ball Cinderella was hogging the bathroom when there was a “whoosh” and a very strange woman appeared in the twins’ bedroom. She wore ragged, black clothes, leaned on a stick, and was the hairiest person the girls had ever seen. She even had a beard!

“Who are you?” the twins asked, together, and the woman said: “I’m your Furry Godmother, of course!”

“Erm, shouldn’t you be more sort of, sparkly," said Isabella, "and wearing posher clothes?” said Coronella.

“That’s PR for you. It’s all image these days isn’t it? Well no, I’m a real magic worker and real magic isn’t pretty and twinkly, it’s hard-working and practical. I am here to grant you each a wish, so what do you want?”

The twins asked for five minutes to think it over. They huddled in a corner and compared notes then came back and announced: ”We would like to meet two nice young men tonight who will love us and make us good husbands, please.”

“Sounds simple enough,” the Godmother said and waved her stick over their heads. Nothing happened and the girls thought perhaps it was some sort of joke that Cinderella had arranged but they were polite and said thank you and the Godmother went away.

Later, at the party, Cinderella shone and caught the eye of the Prince who danced with her all evening and ended up asking her to marry him and she accepted without a moment’s thought.

The twins, however, spent a lot of time talking to two young lords from a neighbouring city, who were also twins and would one day share their parents’ wealth. They were not particularly handsome but they were kind and funny and fell instantly in love with the girls.

And so the twins got their wish. Within a year they were both married and living in a very large castle in the nearby town and they lived contentedly ever after with husbands who loved them and cherished them and believed them both to be beautiful.

Cinderella got her Prince and went off to live in the Palace in the capital city but it was a cold place and the Prince’s grandfather had gambled away much of the family wealth so there was no money to improve it.

And what did the Prince get? He married a beautiful but spoiled young woman who became very bitter when she realised he could not afford to buy her fine clothes and shoes and jewellery.  And when she was bitter she was really rather ugly. So the Prince took up with the page boy, who, against all the odds, loved him for what he was and not what he owned.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Oh my! What have I done?

I swear I fought it. I wasn't going to do this. But I've fallen for it. After trying to track down an old book online and finding that it was no longer available in print I realised that the only way forward was electronic.

I promise I didn't mean to. I thought I'd never get used to the idea of reading anything but a block of printed paper in my hand. Not so. I have been seduced by a lightweight (about the same as a bag of barleysugars) shiny, silver siren and promises of free books. FREE BOOKS!

Yes folks, I can now hold in my hand around 100 (because I haven't uploaded any more yet) classics. I have the complete works of Dickens, ditto for Oscar Wilde, some Austen, Brontës, poetry, plays, and novels I haven't even heard of - let alone read!

And it's easy. So easy to read from the machine. A touch of my finger turns the pages and it feels so good.
I have crossed to the dark side

fff55: Time zones

Where does it go
That  hour that we lose each spring?
Just as we return to rising after dawn
We are plunged back to morning darkness.
The evenings become longer.
But those hours are lost in
All those after-work chores:
Commuting, cooking, cleaning,
Eating, sleeping, living life.
Where does it go?
Where does time go?


The clocks go forward this weekend  in the UK....... snore!

FFF55 is a weekly challenge to write something in exactly 55 words. 
It's hosted over at the G-Man's blog.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The joy of subs

It's not obvious to me why - possibly because I was a journalist for 13 years - but I tend to be a little touchy when it comes to the use of language. Bad writing makes me angry.

When you are a trainee journalist (or at least - 35 years ago when I was a trainee journalist) you are taught not to make basic errors because your copy goes through a lot of stages before it sees daylight in a newspaper. (Many more than the stages it then goes through to end up wrapped round fish and chips!)

At every stage you are likely to be hauled (verbally) from your desk and bawled out publicly to 'teach you a lesson'.

The copy correction process is called subbing, because it is carried out by sub-editors, known as subs, and everyone who ever worked in newspapers understands that.

Today I read a blog comment about editing a novel and the writer kept using the word 'subbing'. It confused me, because they didn't mean subbing - they meant submitting.  And my subs always used to tell me that if your writing confuses the reader - it's bad.

Do you want to know the really depressing thing? This person is a published author. A 'proper' novelist. Clearly the people at the publishers haven't put them straight on what subbing really is. Perhaps they don't know either, which is deeply disturbing for me because it carries a worrying implication.

Maybe I shall never be a novelist because it seems I don't speak the same language any more.