Current work: Medical, chapter 2 (but I have been messing about with #3 as well)
Listening to: Led Zeppelin II (because it’s autumn and, as the leaves are falling all around, ‘Ramble On’ is just too appropriate to resist)
Reading: Margaret McDonagh, Dr Devereux's Proposal (another of her lovely warm books - very enjoyable)
Really excellent day yesterday – my signed print arrived! Am going to drop David Dane a note saying how lovely the print is, and thanking him for letting me know about the opportunity. Having spoken to him before, I know he’ll adore the coincidence that this has many elements of the picture I had in my head when we had our discussion earlier this year.
It looks gorgeous, both here on the NWT website and here on David’s website. But it looks even better in the flesh. I had to nip into town yesterday after school anyway, to sort out a couple of things, so I took it in to the framer’s and it should be back within a fortnight. It’s the oldest established framing shop in Norwich; he’s framed several Dane originals and I’ve chosen a very simple beech frame to go with the furniture in my office (though the framed print might be too big… in which case it’ll go in the living room, as DH shares my taste in art and was impressed with the print).
The shop also sells prints; didn’t get a chance to browse properly, but there was a picture that really grabbed my attention. Did some browsing at home and I’ve found the artist – Steve Denby. Just go and look at his website. The compositions are stunning. (Note to self: find out how this infra-red business works. Potential lightbulb here.)
Plan for today: skipping guitar as I have a busy week ahead (more stuff with the floor, and Dad's not well at the moment) and a looming deadline. Today is a head-down-writing day, and this evening I’m signing books at Jarrolds. At the moment, am dog tired, but a cup of coffee should kick in, in about 20 minutes. Hopefully.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
fossicking (and draw winners)
Current work: Medical, chapter 2
Listening to: Peter Green
Reading: Maggie Kingsley, A Baby For Eve (phenomenal book – great characterisation, very emotional subject and handled with great sensitivity)
First, the important stuff: the book draw. Thanks so much to everyone who replied here or sent me private emails about cats – you’ve given me tons of ideas and it’s really appreciated. (Diane, I’m still grinning about your grandmother’s comment.)
My cat dilemma is now sorted: I’m using Jan’s backstory for my rescue cat (it reflects the heroine’s past rather well). The cat will be a Burmese like Biddy’s (I like the hot water bottle bit) but female (though am borrowing Dylan’s name for the puppy who appears later in the book). And am using a name suggested by Mags (Pandora – whose story will suit the cat, and it’s also the name of certain jewellery I like – yes, Mags, I know I should’ve thought of it myself *g*), And my random name-draw came up with Liz Fenwick.
So Jan, Biddy, Mags and Liz, please email me (kate dot hardy at btinternet dot com) with your snailmail addy, and I will post copies of The Greek Doctor’s New-Year Baby later this week.
Listening to: Peter Green
Reading: Maggie Kingsley, A Baby For Eve (phenomenal book – great characterisation, very emotional subject and handled with great sensitivity)
First, the important stuff: the book draw. Thanks so much to everyone who replied here or sent me private emails about cats – you’ve given me tons of ideas and it’s really appreciated. (Diane, I’m still grinning about your grandmother’s comment.)
My cat dilemma is now sorted: I’m using Jan’s backstory for my rescue cat (it reflects the heroine’s past rather well). The cat will be a Burmese like Biddy’s (I like the hot water bottle bit) but female (though am borrowing Dylan’s name for the puppy who appears later in the book). And am using a name suggested by Mags (Pandora – whose story will suit the cat, and it’s also the name of certain jewellery I like – yes, Mags, I know I should’ve thought of it myself *g*), And my random name-draw came up with Liz Fenwick.
So Jan, Biddy, Mags and Liz, please email me (kate dot hardy at btinternet dot com) with your snailmail addy, and I will post copies of The Greek Doctor’s New-Year Baby later this week.
Spent the weekend doing bits of the book (i.e. writing out of sequence – have come up with a solution to a problem, and just hope my editor sees it the same way); did most of my Christmas shopping; and also did a bit of location research. Sadly, some of the churches I wanted to visit were locked, and there was no hint of a keyholder (one was particularly galling as it’s to do with DH’s family history research; and another claims on its website that it’s open and stewarded every day. Not on a Sunday afternoon at 3pm, it’s not – so we have to go back another day). But I did get most of the pictures I wanted. And some that were en route. DH hates asking for keys so I can only really do this if I’m out with the kids. I so wanted to see the elephant bench-end at Thurgarton. (Mutter, mutter. But he’s good enough to join my research crew as chauffeur me so I can concentrate on mapreading… so I shouldn’t moan.)
Here’s the village green at Heydon, a village that always feels as if it belongs in a different time. (It's frequently used as a film/TV drama setting.)
The church has some fabulous wall paintings, including one that may be of the Magi as part of a nativity sequence.
It also has the most enormous marble slab, commemorating Erasmus Earle – he was an MP in the Long Parliament, and was responsible for sentencing to death the people involved in Norwich’s ‘Great Blowe’ of 1648. (Hmm. I’m with Norwich on that one, not Earle. Am usually a bit of a fence-sitter on the Civil War, as there were huge wrongs on both sides, but on this case am firmly with the Royalists.)
At Little Barningham, there’s an unusual box pew. The carving on the pew (dated 1640) reads:
At Little Barningham, there’s an unusual box pew. The carving on the pew (dated 1640) reads:
For couples joynd in wedlock and my friends that stranger is, this seat did I intend, built at the cost and charge of Steven Crosbee.
All you that doe this place pass by
As you are nowe even so was I
Remember death for you must dye
And as I am so shall you be
Prepare therefore to follow me.
(The verse is pretty common, and there’s another fabulous example in Norwich Cathedral.)
But the really unusual thing is the skeleton on the corner (the spectre at the feast, perhaps?).
All you that doe this place pass by
As you are nowe even so was I
Remember death for you must dye
And as I am so shall you be
Prepare therefore to follow me.
(The verse is pretty common, and there’s another fabulous example in Norwich Cathedral.)
But the really unusual thing is the skeleton on the corner (the spectre at the feast, perhaps?).
Sadly, this is a replacement, as the original carving was stolen in 1995. (It does make me wonder – what kind of scumbag saws off a carving in a church and steals it? And what kind of scumbag gives them money for it? It couldn't have been sold on the open market, so it has to be in a private collection. Wouldn’t it be nice if these people developed a conscience and returned it?)But, to leave on a nicer note – rosy-tinted glass. All right, ruby glass. I’m pretty sure this is flashed glass as I noted chips of white (in other words, there is a layer of ruby glass blown over the white glass to make it slightly lighter) and I think this is just lovely. It’s from Roughton church (I went there to see the herringbone work on the tower, so this was a bonus).
Friday, November 14, 2008
polarising
Current work: Medical, chapter 2
Listening to: Kathryn Williams and Neill MacColl
Reading: next on TBR pile
Spent yesterday with Dad so didn’t get anywhere near as much work done as I’d intended. Had a text from my stepmum at lunchtime to tell me I was in the paper re opening the library at Wicklewood school. It’s also in the local weekly paper – there’s a link here.
Thanks to everyone who has either responded here or emailed me about cats. I have much food for thought!
Now, polarising? It was something that occurred to me yesterday, as I was driving through gorgeous autumnal scenes. I tend to wear dark glasses a lot of the time (on my optician’s advice) and I noticed how bright the colours of the leaves were. Deep gold, rich copper and ruby. But without the glasses, they were an anaemic yellow, dull brown and a nondescript reddish colour. Ditto the sky: the depth of blue changes, depending on whether or not you’re wearing polarising glasses.
And it struck me that this is akin to seeing life through the pages of a romantic novel. Everything’s more intense on the page, and just that little bit brighter than real life. Polarising glasses, rather than rose-tinted, perhaps.
Anyway. Here we have the copper beeches by the RC church down the road from me. I couldn’t resist taking a snap, yesterday morning. (But I plan to experiment – using my sunglasses as a lens filter – to see if I can get the same effect that I see. Because this pic really doesn't show off the glorious copper of the leaves.)
And here’s one of the trees at the bottom of the hill leading to school. The whole path is covered with leaves, and it’s like this all the way up the hill – crunching my way up is thoroughly enjoyable. I love this time in autumn, especially when there’s enough of a chill in the air to make me catch my breath.
Listening to: Kathryn Williams and Neill MacColl
Reading: next on TBR pile
Spent yesterday with Dad so didn’t get anywhere near as much work done as I’d intended. Had a text from my stepmum at lunchtime to tell me I was in the paper re opening the library at Wicklewood school. It’s also in the local weekly paper – there’s a link here.
Thanks to everyone who has either responded here or emailed me about cats. I have much food for thought!
Now, polarising? It was something that occurred to me yesterday, as I was driving through gorgeous autumnal scenes. I tend to wear dark glasses a lot of the time (on my optician’s advice) and I noticed how bright the colours of the leaves were. Deep gold, rich copper and ruby. But without the glasses, they were an anaemic yellow, dull brown and a nondescript reddish colour. Ditto the sky: the depth of blue changes, depending on whether or not you’re wearing polarising glasses.
And it struck me that this is akin to seeing life through the pages of a romantic novel. Everything’s more intense on the page, and just that little bit brighter than real life. Polarising glasses, rather than rose-tinted, perhaps.
Anyway. Here we have the copper beeches by the RC church down the road from me. I couldn’t resist taking a snap, yesterday morning. (But I plan to experiment – using my sunglasses as a lens filter – to see if I can get the same effect that I see. Because this pic really doesn't show off the glorious copper of the leaves.)
And here’s one of the trees at the bottom of the hill leading to school. The whole path is covered with leaves, and it’s like this all the way up the hill – crunching my way up is thoroughly enjoyable. I love this time in autumn, especially when there’s enough of a chill in the air to make me catch my breath.
Later, when most of the leaves have fallen, this particular tree always reminds me of my favourite Shakespeare sonnet (#73).
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Fabulous. I think Shakespeare definitely foreshadowed the Metaphysical Poets – and his sonnet #71 (‘No longer mourn for me when I am dead’) is almost as beautifully OTT as Donne. (It’s the ‘vilest worms’ bit. Delicious. But if you’re looking for really OTT on the same subject, try Donne’s ‘A Nocturnall Upon St Lucie’s Day’. Donne definitely out-Shakespeares Shakespeare.)
Donne is in a class of his own. My favourite poet. His use of language and metaphor leave me quivering. I have a CD of Richard Burton reading some of Donne’s poems: it’s a wonderful treat. I would also rather like to hear Alan Rickman reading Donne’s love poetry. Or Sam West (he has a beautiful voice – though I think if I heard him reading Wilfred Owen I’d be in floods of tears). Or Antonio Banderas reading Donne’s Elegy #20. (OK, OK. I need a cold shower, now.)
Which actor would you like to hear reading poetry – and which poem would you choose?
Thursday, November 13, 2008
help needed from cat-lovers!
Current work: Medical, chapter 2
Listening to: Eva Cassidy
Reading: Margaret McDonagh –Virgin Midwife, Playboy Doctor (excellent read – she really brings a special warmth to her characters)
Yesterday was a good day. The dehumidifier guy was in a good mood; had some nice books through the post (some unexpected – thanks to my mate Carol Twinch); and there were only four teensy corrections on my proofs.
Plan for today: visit Dad, then get on with the book. Especially as I’ve decided on the engagement ring. Might help if I get them meeting. (Am breaking lots of rules with this book. May be doing substantial rewrites later…)
Now, I need help. Bearing in mind that I’m somewhat wary of cats (those of you who know the reason can stop sniggering; the rest of you will just have to imagine the story), and I have no idea what it’s like to live with a cat, I have a slight problem. Thing is, my heroine has a cat. A female cat who’s nervous of men. (Or would a male cat be better? Hmm. I don’t want any spraying. I remember that from a friend’s rescue cat. This would not go down well with my immaculate heroine.)
I was thinking of borrowing my cousin’s British Blue, because she would fit the bill. But is a posh cat the right sort? DH’s childhood cat (a black one) was a real character, but he wouldn’t work in this scenario, because my heroine’s cat wouldn’t miaou outside her bedroom window at 3am in the rain, then tap a paw against the window until he was let in and then proceed to hog the pillow and dry himself off on her. My heroine’s cat would also not sit and beg for chocolate. (Yes, really. He’d miaou really loudly for Cadbury’s Flake. Actually, I think DH’s cat might have thought he was a dog, and I was getting used to him. But he died before I left uni, so I didn’t actually live with him.)
Or do I need a rescue cat?
Said cat is mature and will be aloof but accepting of the new puppy, who will be introduced to the household in a couple of months’ time when the hero and heroine finally get together. The pup – and the rest of the litter – is a joint invention between Margaret McDonagh and me, as we’re working on the same group of books. Mags has a fabulous name ready for hers; I’m still thinking about mine. (Interestingly, there were dogs in the book I proofed yesterday… But farmers need dogs. Hmm. Reindeer... No. Bad Kate.)
Anyway. I need a cat, with a name. All suggestions are very welcome (as are links to pics of examples of said cat). To say thank you, the winner will also get a mention in the ‘behind the book’ section on my website and a copy of my shiny new Greek doctor; I’ll also draw a name at random on Sunday evening (UK time).
Listening to: Eva Cassidy
Reading: Margaret McDonagh –Virgin Midwife, Playboy Doctor (excellent read – she really brings a special warmth to her characters)
Yesterday was a good day. The dehumidifier guy was in a good mood; had some nice books through the post (some unexpected – thanks to my mate Carol Twinch); and there were only four teensy corrections on my proofs.
Plan for today: visit Dad, then get on with the book. Especially as I’ve decided on the engagement ring. Might help if I get them meeting. (Am breaking lots of rules with this book. May be doing substantial rewrites later…)
Now, I need help. Bearing in mind that I’m somewhat wary of cats (those of you who know the reason can stop sniggering; the rest of you will just have to imagine the story), and I have no idea what it’s like to live with a cat, I have a slight problem. Thing is, my heroine has a cat. A female cat who’s nervous of men. (Or would a male cat be better? Hmm. I don’t want any spraying. I remember that from a friend’s rescue cat. This would not go down well with my immaculate heroine.)
I was thinking of borrowing my cousin’s British Blue, because she would fit the bill. But is a posh cat the right sort? DH’s childhood cat (a black one) was a real character, but he wouldn’t work in this scenario, because my heroine’s cat wouldn’t miaou outside her bedroom window at 3am in the rain, then tap a paw against the window until he was let in and then proceed to hog the pillow and dry himself off on her. My heroine’s cat would also not sit and beg for chocolate. (Yes, really. He’d miaou really loudly for Cadbury’s Flake. Actually, I think DH’s cat might have thought he was a dog, and I was getting used to him. But he died before I left uni, so I didn’t actually live with him.)
Or do I need a rescue cat?
Said cat is mature and will be aloof but accepting of the new puppy, who will be introduced to the household in a couple of months’ time when the hero and heroine finally get together. The pup – and the rest of the litter – is a joint invention between Margaret McDonagh and me, as we’re working on the same group of books. Mags has a fabulous name ready for hers; I’m still thinking about mine. (Interestingly, there were dogs in the book I proofed yesterday… But farmers need dogs. Hmm. Reindeer... No. Bad Kate.)
Anyway. I need a cat, with a name. All suggestions are very welcome (as are links to pics of examples of said cat). To say thank you, the winner will also get a mention in the ‘behind the book’ section on my website and a copy of my shiny new Greek doctor; I’ll also draw a name at random on Sunday evening (UK time).
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Busybusy
Current work: Medical, chapter 1
Listening to: Bach, double violin concerto
Reading: Next on TBR pile
Settling into the book now – to my relief, the characters are talking to me. Working on a continuity is harder, in a way, because the characters aren’t initially mine (and I’m going to have to do some tweaking to make it fit; at the moment, I don't like the hero very much), plus I need to make sure my ducks are lined up with everyone else’s. But I think I’m getting there. I also have a Dear Reader letter to write for the July 09 release of my sheik in the US, and the proofs of book 2 of the duo to do.
Guitar yesterday was good – worked on the song for my daughter (son’s will come later – at the moment I have snatches, but am not going to push it because my deadline comes first: last week’s song came into my head on the way home, so am going to let the other one mull until it happens).
Today: drying people arrive with a new dehumidifier. Hope the guy’s in a good mood this week. Not going to hold my breath, though – am expecting him to moan about what the builders did last week. Frankly, I don’t care any more. My stance now is that they can bicker between themselves as much as they like, as long as they do the job and get my house dry.
Listening to: Bach, double violin concerto
Reading: Next on TBR pile
Settling into the book now – to my relief, the characters are talking to me. Working on a continuity is harder, in a way, because the characters aren’t initially mine (and I’m going to have to do some tweaking to make it fit; at the moment, I don't like the hero very much), plus I need to make sure my ducks are lined up with everyone else’s. But I think I’m getting there. I also have a Dear Reader letter to write for the July 09 release of my sheik in the US, and the proofs of book 2 of the duo to do.
Guitar yesterday was good – worked on the song for my daughter (son’s will come later – at the moment I have snatches, but am not going to push it because my deadline comes first: last week’s song came into my head on the way home, so am going to let the other one mull until it happens).
Today: drying people arrive with a new dehumidifier. Hope the guy’s in a good mood this week. Not going to hold my breath, though – am expecting him to moan about what the builders did last week. Frankly, I don’t care any more. My stance now is that they can bicker between themselves as much as they like, as long as they do the job and get my house dry.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Armistice Day
I normally steer clear of politics here (which is why I haven't said anything about the US elections - not because I'm ignoring it, but my politics are not relevant to my writing).
However, I do make an exception for Armistice Day.
I was very moved this morning to hear 110-year-old Henry Allingham - one of the last four surviving servicement from the 5 million troops in the Great War - talking on the radio about his memories of wartime Yarmouth. Daughter was a bit shocked when I pointed out that he was 102 years older than she was, and when he was born Queen Victoria was on the throne.
It's because of people like Henry Allingham - and his friends and colleagues who didn't make it back - that we have freedom in this country.
But I really do wish the world would learn its lesson. The result of war is loss and grief. End of. And I don't mean Iraq. I mean conflict the world over.
If the money spent on arms was spent on agriculture and engineering and education and medical research, the world would be a much better place. What would happen, say, if all the arms manufacturers in the world said 'enough' and refused to make them - and turned their factories to a different sort of manufacturing? What would happen if people stopped trying to take maximum profits and took responsibility for their actions?
I hope that one day we'll find out.
And for that reason I'll be interrupting my guitar lesson this morning at 11 for 2 minutes' silence. To honour those who died believing that they were trying to give future generations a better life and a better chance.
However, I do make an exception for Armistice Day.
I was very moved this morning to hear 110-year-old Henry Allingham - one of the last four surviving servicement from the 5 million troops in the Great War - talking on the radio about his memories of wartime Yarmouth. Daughter was a bit shocked when I pointed out that he was 102 years older than she was, and when he was born Queen Victoria was on the throne.
It's because of people like Henry Allingham - and his friends and colleagues who didn't make it back - that we have freedom in this country.
But I really do wish the world would learn its lesson. The result of war is loss and grief. End of. And I don't mean Iraq. I mean conflict the world over.
If the money spent on arms was spent on agriculture and engineering and education and medical research, the world would be a much better place. What would happen, say, if all the arms manufacturers in the world said 'enough' and refused to make them - and turned their factories to a different sort of manufacturing? What would happen if people stopped trying to take maximum profits and took responsibility for their actions?
I hope that one day we'll find out.
And for that reason I'll be interrupting my guitar lesson this morning at 11 for 2 minutes' silence. To honour those who died believing that they were trying to give future generations a better life and a better chance.
New books, new covers
Current work: Medical – tinkering with the outline and working on chapter 1
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Next on TBR pile
Nice parcel this weekend – a big box of books containing the paperbacks of book 1 of my new duo, and the hardbacks of book 2.
Here’s my gorgeous Greek – and you’ll be able to find him at the M&B website in just over a fortnight’s time. In January, the book will be available in the UK, the US and Australia/New Zealand.
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Next on TBR pile
Nice parcel this weekend – a big box of books containing the paperbacks of book 1 of my new duo, and the hardbacks of book 2.
Here’s my gorgeous Greek – and you’ll be able to find him at the M&B website in just over a fortnight’s time. In January, the book will be available in the UK, the US and Australia/New Zealand.
Right now, in Australia and New Zealand, my sexy archaeologist is on the shelves:
And the book will be available on the shelves in the US in January (or from the eharlequin website next month).
Monday, November 10, 2008
cutting the ribbon…
Current work: Medical – filling in the outline and getting my ducks in a row (it's a continuity)
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Next on TBR pile
Friday was the fireworks at school, and it was WONDERFUL to be able to go and enjoy them, without spending my entire time dispensing hot drinks and/or having all the worry of organising it beforehand. Great display; especially loved the blue airbursts.
Was also fab seeing Fi this weekend, catching up and playing with the kids and talking too much. (Did I mention eating chocolate? OK. Will admit it…)
Today has been fabulous and a personal dream come true – as part of being the National Year of Reading 2008 Writer-in-Residence for Norfolk (yup, long title), I did a talk at a local school, and they asked me to cut the ribbon to open their brand new library. I was absolutely thrilled to be asked. And it might be in the local paper later this week.
(Obviously the pic is just of me so as not to invade the privacy of the children at the school. They were beautifully behaved and it was fantastic to be a part of today.)
Lovely school and lovely children – they sat beautifully through my talk, oohed and aahed in all the right places when I told them a couple of gory tales, joined in and answered questions, and asked sensible questions at the end, too. It was a great experience and I felt really privileged to be there.
Days like today, I really, REALLY love what I do for a living.
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Next on TBR pile
Friday was the fireworks at school, and it was WONDERFUL to be able to go and enjoy them, without spending my entire time dispensing hot drinks and/or having all the worry of organising it beforehand. Great display; especially loved the blue airbursts.
Was also fab seeing Fi this weekend, catching up and playing with the kids and talking too much. (Did I mention eating chocolate? OK. Will admit it…)
Today has been fabulous and a personal dream come true – as part of being the National Year of Reading 2008 Writer-in-Residence for Norfolk (yup, long title), I did a talk at a local school, and they asked me to cut the ribbon to open their brand new library. I was absolutely thrilled to be asked. And it might be in the local paper later this week.
(Obviously the pic is just of me so as not to invade the privacy of the children at the school. They were beautifully behaved and it was fantastic to be a part of today.)
Lovely school and lovely children – they sat beautifully through my talk, oohed and aahed in all the right places when I told them a couple of gory tales, joined in and answered questions, and asked sensible questions at the end, too. It was a great experience and I felt really privileged to be there.
Days like today, I really, REALLY love what I do for a living.
Friday, November 07, 2008
(don’t) let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Current work: (having a thinking day)
Listening to: Joe Lynn Turner
Reading: Jan Jones, Fair Deception (finished it last night – excellent ending. Looking forward to the next!)
Last night, the plan was that we’d nip into town very quickly and spend Madam’s birthday money. Son had the option of going next door to the Games Workshop (used to be one of his favourite places). Nuh-uh. He wanted to help his little sister choose her charms. (I think he would like a Pandora charm, because he has been poring over the catalogue with her. May have to get him a leather thong: jewellery is banned from school, so he won't get teased by anyone, and it's not as if he's going to turn into Medallion Man.) So now she has her birth sign, her initial and a very cute little ghost. And I bought one as well, because… um, can’t talk about that yet, but I will when I can. It has a pointsettia on it (which looks like an iris - that's why I bought it).
After that I needed to go to M&S because I live in their lovely black trousers and one pair had worn out and needed replacing. While I was there I bought a skirt (Christmas party type thingy – is long, asymmetrical handkerchief hem, lots of lace, and very pretty – there was a top that matched but they were too much, together; goes better with a black camisole top and a black lacy shrug). DH rang me several times to find out where I was, as his best friend also happened to be in town so we were going to meet up for coffee. I suggested meeting in the M&S cafe, but was overruled in favour of Chapelfield. So I paid for my goodies...
... and then I walked out into snow.
Not real snow. There were two of those blowers that puffs up little squidgy bits of foam so it looks like snow. Oh-h-h. Lightbulb. (My current book is set at the seaside in the middle of summer. No snow. The one after, however, is set in Norway in the winter. Snow a-plenty. Who said ‘reindeer’?)
Why snow? Because Father Christmas was doing the official opening of the lights at Chapelfield last night. The kids loved it. And they were playing Dean Martin’s ‘Let it snow’, so it was really atmospheric. I could almost have wished for the s-word :o) Except I have plans for the w/e, as my best friend is coming up (the kids can’t wait to see her and have been counting the days all week). And it’s school fireworks tonight: so no rain or snow, please!
Listening to: Joe Lynn Turner
Reading: Jan Jones, Fair Deception (finished it last night – excellent ending. Looking forward to the next!)
Last night, the plan was that we’d nip into town very quickly and spend Madam’s birthday money. Son had the option of going next door to the Games Workshop (used to be one of his favourite places). Nuh-uh. He wanted to help his little sister choose her charms. (I think he would like a Pandora charm, because he has been poring over the catalogue with her. May have to get him a leather thong: jewellery is banned from school, so he won't get teased by anyone, and it's not as if he's going to turn into Medallion Man.) So now she has her birth sign, her initial and a very cute little ghost. And I bought one as well, because… um, can’t talk about that yet, but I will when I can. It has a pointsettia on it (which looks like an iris - that's why I bought it).
After that I needed to go to M&S because I live in their lovely black trousers and one pair had worn out and needed replacing. While I was there I bought a skirt (Christmas party type thingy – is long, asymmetrical handkerchief hem, lots of lace, and very pretty – there was a top that matched but they were too much, together; goes better with a black camisole top and a black lacy shrug). DH rang me several times to find out where I was, as his best friend also happened to be in town so we were going to meet up for coffee. I suggested meeting in the M&S cafe, but was overruled in favour of Chapelfield. So I paid for my goodies...
... and then I walked out into snow.
Not real snow. There were two of those blowers that puffs up little squidgy bits of foam so it looks like snow. Oh-h-h. Lightbulb. (My current book is set at the seaside in the middle of summer. No snow. The one after, however, is set in Norway in the winter. Snow a-plenty. Who said ‘reindeer’?)
Why snow? Because Father Christmas was doing the official opening of the lights at Chapelfield last night. The kids loved it. And they were playing Dean Martin’s ‘Let it snow’, so it was really atmospheric. I could almost have wished for the s-word :o) Except I have plans for the w/e, as my best friend is coming up (the kids can’t wait to see her and have been counting the days all week). And it’s school fireworks tonight: so no rain or snow, please!
Thursday, November 06, 2008
carpe diem
Current work: (don’t ask)
Listening to: Neil Young, After the Goldrush
Reading: Jan Jones, Fair Deception (fab read, and I’m not just saying this because she’s one of my friends – great characterisation, fast pace, lots of wit, gorgeous hero, lovely heroine, and there’s a secondary who definitely needs her own story)
Cleaned my mum’s grave and put new flowers on this morning, so it looks much brighter. The florist next to the church just happened to have some fresh freesias, the same colour as some of the silk ones I’d used. Freesias were my mum’s favourite flowers, so I bought some for her. I know they won’t last overnight, but it makes me feel better to give her proper flowers for her birthday. Even though I would much rather have been able to give them to her in person.
Stopped off at Staples on the way home to sort out the last OHPs for my talk on Monday; then had to go lamp-shopping as my desk lamp collapsed yesterday. Was very pleased with the new lighting shop next to Staples as they actually had a choice of low-energy lamps.
Was still feeling a bit low when I came home - and then I had another unexpected phone call. (This week has really been good for them.) This time it was David Dane, a local artist whose work I really like (and he’s a lovely man, too). He had some great news for me; he doesn’t normally do prints, but Norfolk Wildlife Trust is running a campaign to buy an important piece of marshland, and David has painted a picture for them – meaning that he’s produced a limited edition of signed, numbered prints. All the money is going to the Trust’s campaign. He remembered how much I like his work, so he rang me in case I’d be interested.
Now, this is an opportunity that might not come my way again.
At the time, I wanted a picture with a sunrise and some dew and some birds flying and a windmill. So when I typed in the email he gave me... Hmm.
(You can see it here on the NWT website or here on David’s website, where you can enlarge it.)
It’s the perfect size for the space just above my desk; and, frankly, after the utter mess of this year, I could do with something calm and ethereal like this in my office.
As I said. Carpe diem. Because life is short.
Listening to: Neil Young, After the Goldrush
Reading: Jan Jones, Fair Deception (fab read, and I’m not just saying this because she’s one of my friends – great characterisation, fast pace, lots of wit, gorgeous hero, lovely heroine, and there’s a secondary who definitely needs her own story)
Cleaned my mum’s grave and put new flowers on this morning, so it looks much brighter. The florist next to the church just happened to have some fresh freesias, the same colour as some of the silk ones I’d used. Freesias were my mum’s favourite flowers, so I bought some for her. I know they won’t last overnight, but it makes me feel better to give her proper flowers for her birthday. Even though I would much rather have been able to give them to her in person.
Stopped off at Staples on the way home to sort out the last OHPs for my talk on Monday; then had to go lamp-shopping as my desk lamp collapsed yesterday. Was very pleased with the new lighting shop next to Staples as they actually had a choice of low-energy lamps.
Was still feeling a bit low when I came home - and then I had another unexpected phone call. (This week has really been good for them.) This time it was David Dane, a local artist whose work I really like (and he’s a lovely man, too). He had some great news for me; he doesn’t normally do prints, but Norfolk Wildlife Trust is running a campaign to buy an important piece of marshland, and David has painted a picture for them – meaning that he’s produced a limited edition of signed, numbered prints. All the money is going to the Trust’s campaign. He remembered how much I like his work, so he rang me in case I’d be interested.
Now, this is an opportunity that might not come my way again.
At the time, I wanted a picture with a sunrise and some dew and some birds flying and a windmill. So when I typed in the email he gave me... Hmm.
(You can see it here on the NWT website or here on David’s website, where you can enlarge it.)
It’s the perfect size for the space just above my desk; and, frankly, after the utter mess of this year, I could do with something calm and ethereal like this in my office.
As I said. Carpe diem. Because life is short.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
plus la change, plus la même chose
Current work: M&B Medical and admin
Listening to: Bach
Reading: (next on TBR pile)
I had plans for work, yesterday. So what did I end up writing? Music. The weird thing is that it works the same as my books do, in that I get the tune and the first few lines and possibly the ending, and the middle is saggy. Plus la change, yada yada yada.
Really good guitar lesson yesterday – I’m doing well on the Bach (‘well’ being a relative term – given that my practising time has vanished, I’m doing OK), and we messed about with an arrangement of Coventry Carol (as in ‘right, you’re going to transpose it from Gm to Em as it’s a more sensible key, and work out the bass’ – and I did OK with that, too).
Right at the end of the lesson I suddenly remembered the conversation I’d had with my daughter that morning. ‘Mummy, will you write me a song?’ And of course I said yes. And I always keep my promises. Whoops. So I scribbled a note in my manuscript book to write a song next week. Course, as soon as I started driving home and couldn’t write anything down, the lyrics and the tune came into my head. This is where a digital recorder is brilliant (aka my PDA) – sang it into the recorder, worked it out on the piano while I had lunch, and will straighten it out with Jim’s help next week. I sang her the first draft and she loved it.
Actually, that’s given me a lightbulb: about someone whose dream is to have a song written for them. Hmm. (Yeah, yeah. I know I already have the next three books worked out. But an ideas file is a Very Good Thing.)
Also had a nice conversation with Alex, M&B’s publicist, re my January UK release. Have given him a different hook (i.e. deaf author, deaf heroine) so hopefully it’ll interest some editors. What I’d really like is to be able to reach out to other people who have a hearing problem but don’t think anything can be done about it, to show them that times have moved on and modern (digital) hearing aids are very effective, and give them the courage to talk to their GP and see if they can get some help. It’s made a huge difference to my life (though I do admit to resorting to lipreading and subtitles when I’m tired).
Then, late yesterday afternoon, I had an unexpected phone call that left me smiling… about which I shall blog later. (That’s TWO exciting bits of news now that I’m dying to talk about and can’t. But as soon as I can, I will – sorry to be such a tease.) (Is good news. I suggested it meant a new Pandora bead. DH was unamused at the suggestion and asked why could he not have something, so have bought him a Badfinger CD to shut him up. Am going to Sonkai with my daughter this week, to spend her birthday money. Have made no promises to be Good Kate.)
And then it was Madam’s concert at school. It was fantastic. Some of the little ones in the choir were only seven, and there they were, singing their hearts out. I knew some of the kids in the orchestra, too, and they played beautifully. I was especially impressed with the jazz improvs by the junior school: just excellent. The high school did a great version of ‘Live and Let Die’ – and all the kids were enjoying it as much as their parents and siblings were. I recorded the choir on my PDA, so fingers crossed I can transfer the wav files. (Grandparents and godparents might get a chance to hear it, then…)
I think the evening made son regret giving up his music lessons. DH suggested trying the drums (this is to do with our house band - I reckon Madam knows enough chords for it to work now) but son is currently leaning towards the piano. Might teach him a bit this week, while he’s still warm to the idea. He can read music, so it’s not going to be that hard for him – especially as his hands are larger than mine, so he’ll be able to do an octave span. (He’s had yet another growth spurt. Two and a half centimetres and he’ll be my height. Clearly I will have to master stilts...)
Listening to: Bach
Reading: (next on TBR pile)
I had plans for work, yesterday. So what did I end up writing? Music. The weird thing is that it works the same as my books do, in that I get the tune and the first few lines and possibly the ending, and the middle is saggy. Plus la change, yada yada yada.
Really good guitar lesson yesterday – I’m doing well on the Bach (‘well’ being a relative term – given that my practising time has vanished, I’m doing OK), and we messed about with an arrangement of Coventry Carol (as in ‘right, you’re going to transpose it from Gm to Em as it’s a more sensible key, and work out the bass’ – and I did OK with that, too).
Right at the end of the lesson I suddenly remembered the conversation I’d had with my daughter that morning. ‘Mummy, will you write me a song?’ And of course I said yes. And I always keep my promises. Whoops. So I scribbled a note in my manuscript book to write a song next week. Course, as soon as I started driving home and couldn’t write anything down, the lyrics and the tune came into my head. This is where a digital recorder is brilliant (aka my PDA) – sang it into the recorder, worked it out on the piano while I had lunch, and will straighten it out with Jim’s help next week. I sang her the first draft and she loved it.
Actually, that’s given me a lightbulb: about someone whose dream is to have a song written for them. Hmm. (Yeah, yeah. I know I already have the next three books worked out. But an ideas file is a Very Good Thing.)
Also had a nice conversation with Alex, M&B’s publicist, re my January UK release. Have given him a different hook (i.e. deaf author, deaf heroine) so hopefully it’ll interest some editors. What I’d really like is to be able to reach out to other people who have a hearing problem but don’t think anything can be done about it, to show them that times have moved on and modern (digital) hearing aids are very effective, and give them the courage to talk to their GP and see if they can get some help. It’s made a huge difference to my life (though I do admit to resorting to lipreading and subtitles when I’m tired).
Then, late yesterday afternoon, I had an unexpected phone call that left me smiling… about which I shall blog later. (That’s TWO exciting bits of news now that I’m dying to talk about and can’t. But as soon as I can, I will – sorry to be such a tease.) (Is good news. I suggested it meant a new Pandora bead. DH was unamused at the suggestion and asked why could he not have something, so have bought him a Badfinger CD to shut him up. Am going to Sonkai with my daughter this week, to spend her birthday money. Have made no promises to be Good Kate.)
And then it was Madam’s concert at school. It was fantastic. Some of the little ones in the choir were only seven, and there they were, singing their hearts out. I knew some of the kids in the orchestra, too, and they played beautifully. I was especially impressed with the jazz improvs by the junior school: just excellent. The high school did a great version of ‘Live and Let Die’ – and all the kids were enjoying it as much as their parents and siblings were. I recorded the choir on my PDA, so fingers crossed I can transfer the wav files. (Grandparents and godparents might get a chance to hear it, then…)
I think the evening made son regret giving up his music lessons. DH suggested trying the drums (this is to do with our house band - I reckon Madam knows enough chords for it to work now) but son is currently leaning towards the piano. Might teach him a bit this week, while he’s still warm to the idea. He can read music, so it’s not going to be that hard for him – especially as his hands are larger than mine, so he’ll be able to do an octave span. (He’s had yet another growth spurt. Two and a half centimetres and he’ll be my height. Clearly I will have to master stilts...)
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
bang, crash, bang, crash
Current work: please can any time-machine inventors get in touch?
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Michelle Styles, A Question of Impropriety (enjoyed it, especially the bits about the travelling engine and learning new stuff about costume)
Workwise, yesterday was pretty much a wipeout. The builders had to go to an emergency job, so we weren’t sure what time they’d arrive here. They were lovely, cleared up all the mess and were very dog-friendly, but I find it hard to settle to work when I know I‘m going to be interrupted at any moment. Taking the top bit off a concrete floor isn’t a quiet job, by definition; and creating a new world when there are drills, hammers and chisels going on is nigh impossible. By the time it was over and I’d done the school run, cooked dinner and sorted out homework and reading and stuff, I was dog-tired and not in the right frame of mind to sit at the computer. I could have chugged a cup of coffee, and then I’d have been awake enough to work, 20 minutes later – but I’m trying to keep off the cycle of drinking too much coffee to stay awake, then needing more coffee to get me going in the morning and a paracetamol to deal with a headache from lack of sleep. (As a short-term measure to get through an emergency, it’s fine – but that was earlier this summer.)
Unfortunately, the carpenter couldn’t make it yesterday so is coming tomorrow instead – which means tomorrow’s going to be a wipeout, too. Think I’d better make tomorrow an admin day. I really don’t have enough days, right now, and I'm rearranging some of the things I'd planned to do. But it would’ve been my mum’s birthday this Saturday, and I want to clean her grave and put new silk flowers on to keep it nice for the winter (this is important for me to do, otherwise I’ll be really upset and fret about it); I also need to spend time with Dad (I can’t let him down because it’s not fair on him); and somehow I need to find some P&Q to work. Ha. Maybe I should sit in the car with the PDA…
Still, glass half full: rang up to find out my blood test results and they were clear (routine stuff – thyroid and blood sugar). The fact I'm permanently tired at the moment is probably a hangover from the stresses of this summer, and I also need to do more exercise and lose weight. [MUCH easier said than done.] I had a decent amount of sleep last night, though I had a very odd dream about finding a Roman villa in my garden. As in one with still-standing walls and some gorgeous sculpture. As my garden isn’t actually big enough to contain a Roman villa, that’s very strange. My subconscious is clearly limbering up with ideas, so it’ll be interesting to see what it comes out with, later this week. And I had a very nice email back from the MD of the restaurant chain – I wanted our waitress to have some official thanks for her excellent service on Saturday, so I emailed to say how much we appreciated what she did. I really do believe that kindness and courtesy makes the world a better place. And I had a lovely email from one of our local journos saying that she’d spotted my cover on Consuming Passions, on Sunday night. I was so touched that she’d taken the time to tell me.
Plan for today: guitar this morning (am being stubborn about this because this is the only real me-time I get and I do not want to give it up or cut it back – even though two hours a week, as in lesson + travel time, is possibly a bit much); shoehorn in as much work as I can; and then Madam’s concert tonight, at son’s school – am really looking forward to that.
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Michelle Styles, A Question of Impropriety (enjoyed it, especially the bits about the travelling engine and learning new stuff about costume)
Workwise, yesterday was pretty much a wipeout. The builders had to go to an emergency job, so we weren’t sure what time they’d arrive here. They were lovely, cleared up all the mess and were very dog-friendly, but I find it hard to settle to work when I know I‘m going to be interrupted at any moment. Taking the top bit off a concrete floor isn’t a quiet job, by definition; and creating a new world when there are drills, hammers and chisels going on is nigh impossible. By the time it was over and I’d done the school run, cooked dinner and sorted out homework and reading and stuff, I was dog-tired and not in the right frame of mind to sit at the computer. I could have chugged a cup of coffee, and then I’d have been awake enough to work, 20 minutes later – but I’m trying to keep off the cycle of drinking too much coffee to stay awake, then needing more coffee to get me going in the morning and a paracetamol to deal with a headache from lack of sleep. (As a short-term measure to get through an emergency, it’s fine – but that was earlier this summer.)
Unfortunately, the carpenter couldn’t make it yesterday so is coming tomorrow instead – which means tomorrow’s going to be a wipeout, too. Think I’d better make tomorrow an admin day. I really don’t have enough days, right now, and I'm rearranging some of the things I'd planned to do. But it would’ve been my mum’s birthday this Saturday, and I want to clean her grave and put new silk flowers on to keep it nice for the winter (this is important for me to do, otherwise I’ll be really upset and fret about it); I also need to spend time with Dad (I can’t let him down because it’s not fair on him); and somehow I need to find some P&Q to work. Ha. Maybe I should sit in the car with the PDA…
Still, glass half full: rang up to find out my blood test results and they were clear (routine stuff – thyroid and blood sugar). The fact I'm permanently tired at the moment is probably a hangover from the stresses of this summer, and I also need to do more exercise and lose weight. [MUCH easier said than done.] I had a decent amount of sleep last night, though I had a very odd dream about finding a Roman villa in my garden. As in one with still-standing walls and some gorgeous sculpture. As my garden isn’t actually big enough to contain a Roman villa, that’s very strange. My subconscious is clearly limbering up with ideas, so it’ll be interesting to see what it comes out with, later this week. And I had a very nice email back from the MD of the restaurant chain – I wanted our waitress to have some official thanks for her excellent service on Saturday, so I emailed to say how much we appreciated what she did. I really do believe that kindness and courtesy makes the world a better place. And I had a lovely email from one of our local journos saying that she’d spotted my cover on Consuming Passions, on Sunday night. I was so touched that she’d taken the time to tell me.
Plan for today: guitar this morning (am being stubborn about this because this is the only real me-time I get and I do not want to give it up or cut it back – even though two hours a week, as in lesson + travel time, is possibly a bit much); shoehorn in as much work as I can; and then Madam’s concert tonight, at son’s school – am really looking forward to that.
Monday, November 03, 2008
and another moment to treasure
Last night, BBC4 screened two programmes about M&B. Watched both of them and enjoyed them. But there was a really special moment for me in the second one, Consuming Passions. Emilia Fox (as an English lecturer) was showing covers and explaining how they and the heroes changed over the years. DH and I were cuddled up on the sofa. ‘Hmm,’ he says. ‘I wonder if they’ll show one of y–?’
He didn’t get to finish his question. Because, at that precise moment, there on the screen was…
Which made me one very happy bunny indeed. (Especially as today is the day I get my utility room door back. I also lose part of my floor so it’s going to be messy and dusty and decidedly ick around here, but… things are finally moving again after the site meeting.)
Edit: Whoops, almost forgot. As well as being my baby's eighth birthday on Saturday, it was my M&B anniversary. Seventh anniversary of The Call, and sixth anniversary of my first M&B on the shelves. Funny, it still seems like yesterday; yet, at the same time, it feels like such a long time ago.
He didn’t get to finish his question. Because, at that precise moment, there on the screen was…
Which made me one very happy bunny indeed. (Especially as today is the day I get my utility room door back. I also lose part of my floor so it’s going to be messy and dusty and decidedly ick around here, but… things are finally moving again after the site meeting.)
Edit: Whoops, almost forgot. As well as being my baby's eighth birthday on Saturday, it was my M&B anniversary. Seventh anniversary of The Call, and sixth anniversary of my first M&B on the shelves. Funny, it still seems like yesterday; yet, at the same time, it feels like such a long time ago.
fireworks, fireworks and… fireworks
Current work: various fiction and nonfic
Listening to: Sheryl Crow
Reading: Joanna Maitland, His Cavalry Lady (enjoyed it very much)
We had a wonderful time on Saturday. Madam loved her birthday present (and the one we had to get delivered from halfway round the world, from her brother – how amazing the Internet is). We had dinner at Tootsie’s, where our waitress was fabulous: when we’d ordered dessert, suddenly all the lights went out and she appeared with this fantastic indoor firework (as in a Roman candle) stuck in some ice cream, and the whole restaurant sang happy birthday to Madam. The look on her face is going to stay with me for a long time, bless her. (I overheard her telling the story to her cousin, and she was so thrilled that everyone in the restaurant, even though they didn't know her, sang to her.)
Listening to: Sheryl Crow
Reading: Joanna Maitland, His Cavalry Lady (enjoyed it very much)
We had a wonderful time on Saturday. Madam loved her birthday present (and the one we had to get delivered from halfway round the world, from her brother – how amazing the Internet is). We had dinner at Tootsie’s, where our waitress was fabulous: when we’d ordered dessert, suddenly all the lights went out and she appeared with this fantastic indoor firework (as in a Roman candle) stuck in some ice cream, and the whole restaurant sang happy birthday to Madam. The look on her face is going to stay with me for a long time, bless her. (I overheard her telling the story to her cousin, and she was so thrilled that everyone in the restaurant, even though they didn't know her, sang to her.)
And then it was Beauty and the Beast. The tickets were expensive, but they were worth every single penny. It’s the first time I’ve ever been to a musical at the theatre, and I definitely want to go again. The acting was great (the guy who played Lumiere stole the show), the singing was good (the woman who played Mrs Potts was my favourite: lovely voice), and the set/lighting was stunning. (So were the indoor fireworks!) The costumes were very good, too. It took me three-quarters of the show to work out how they’d done Chip. His head was in a tea-cup on top of what looked like an open-sided tea trolley with two completely empty shelves – but there was nowhere for someone to hide a body, and the cast walked round the tea trolley, right next to the edge, so he couldn’t have been kneeling behind it on a ledge. It was actually a Pepper’s ghost type thing – i.e. mirrors at an angle – extremely effective.
But the really stunning bit was the transformation of the Beast. I still haven’t worked that out. Obviously part of his costume was a wig and the furry feet and arms. But his face looked as if it was stage make-up, not a mask. They had him spinning on a trapeze (which looked amazing), and then there was about five seconds of strobe lighting (where I can imagine the costume change was done by Velcro) – but there’s no WAY you can remove stage make-up in that short a space of time. There weren't any lines on his face from a close-fitting mask. So how??? Everyone clapped like crazy at that bit. Just stunning. The cast clearly enjoyed their roles, and the atmosphere was great. They deserved the huge applause at the end. (My hands hurt from clapping.) And it didn’t matter that it was pouring with rain outside and we got a bit damp between the car park, the restaurant and the theatre. I think this is a birthday my daughter will really remember.
Sunday was the family party; I was up early, baking, so when everyone turned up there were plenty of the infamous cheese stars and cookies, as well as the stuff in the oven for lunch. Madam wanted to sing to everyone (practising for Tuesday’s concert). OK, she knew everyone in the room and they’d all made a fuss of her, but it’s still pretty daunting, singing two songs a capella in front of 15 people. She made a really good job of it – kept the beat really well, did the quiet refrain followed by the louder (and slower) last line of ‘I can see clearly now’, and… Oh, I was so proud of her.
Madam’s cake was very chocolately indeed. And then, once it was dark (and we’d managed to drag the men away from watching the motor racing)… well, the pics say it all. DH (aided by son) did a great job.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
books, birthdays and the s-word
Current work: various fiction and nonfic
Listening to: Sheryl Crow
Reading: next on my TBR
Busy day yesterday. Went into town with son and Madam while DH visited his mother. Nipped into Borders and signed the most enormous pile of books – this little lot in front of me is a tiny fraction of them. Every time I thought I was making headway, the store manager appeared with another pile. Madam was in charge of adding the 'signed by author' stickers, and son was in charge of stacking them. Son also took photograph (urrgh, first one was a side-on view. A definite incentive to sort out weight control. I have been doing about 15,000 steps a day during the hols, though).
Listening to: Sheryl Crow
Reading: next on my TBR
Busy day yesterday. Went into town with son and Madam while DH visited his mother. Nipped into Borders and signed the most enormous pile of books – this little lot in front of me is a tiny fraction of them. Every time I thought I was making headway, the store manager appeared with another pile. Madam was in charge of adding the 'signed by author' stickers, and son was in charge of stacking them. Son also took photograph (urrgh, first one was a side-on view. A definite incentive to sort out weight control. I have been doing about 15,000 steps a day during the hols, though).
Then we went shopping for Madam’s birthday pressie. Unfortunately, the bracelet she wanted was unavailable (the one with the lobster clasp and a dangly bit), but we bought the charm she wanted. Persuaded the kids to let me go into a couple of churches (and what a LOVELY welcome we had at St George’s Tombland) for pics; then lunch; then home.
Unbeknown to Madam, I did a quick ring round the other three jewellers in Norfolk who stock Pandora. Managed to source her bracelet, and even better they’re posting it to me (cost is much less than the petrol would be, as said jeweller is in Burnham). Am looking forward to seeing her face on Saturday when she opens a small parcel, expecting it to be just the teddy bear charm, and discovers the bracelet attached to it. I love putting a bit of sunshine into people’s lives.
Apparently snow fell in London yesterday – the first time it’s snowed in London during October since 1934. This morning, we appear to have another sharp frost, but thankfully no white stuff. Hope it stays away.
Plans for today: lazy day in. Really, REALLY must tidy desk...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
a step into the past
Current work: various fiction and nonfic
Listening to: David Coverdale
Reading: next on my TBR (some of which is buried on my desk - I really MUST make time to tidy it, today)
Listening to: David Coverdale
Reading: next on my TBR (some of which is buried on my desk - I really MUST make time to tidy it, today)
Have been busy over the last couple of days doing location research. DH has been incredibly patient about this – because when he’s with us we go to the more obscure places on my list (I’m navigating - the kids aren’t quite up to map-reading, or at least not to the standard I need for the really out-of-the-way places). The kids have also been pretty patient, especially as they’ve realised that the ‘stop at a café every couple of hours’ rule applies only when they’re with me and not when they’re with both parents.
First stop yesterday was at Beachamwell.
Partly I wanted to see the famous graffiti, but mainly I thought we should all go because this is where son’s 5x-great-grandfather, who shares his name, married Frances Rudd in 1791. (I haven’t been able to trace DH’s paternal family tree any further back – yet – but am working on it.) 
The tower is particularly unusual; the top bit (octagonal) is mid to late 14th century (Perpendicular), but the lower part of the tower is Saxon, as you can see by the balusters in the window just above the thatch. (The ones on the other side have triangular heads, making it even more obvious that they’re Saxon.)
And after that it was for pics for the book. So in our travels yesterday we looked at an ossuary (Madam was most disgusted when son explained it to her), a Peter’s Pence lectern, a gorgeous Easter Sepulchre carved in chalk, and a set of royal arms for James I (a little naïve in form, but utterly charming).
Something else that caught my eye yesterday was a detail from the memorial window to the poet William Cowper, in St Nicholas (East Dereham). These are Cowper’s three favourite things: his two hares and his dog. I adored the dog.
Plans for today: depends on the weather. If the s-word is involved, I’m going nowhere. Otherwise, I’ve promised to take Madam to get her birthday pressie. And as I had an unexpected royalty cheque yesterday, I think I can justify one teensy thing for me. (It involves Murano glass.)
Have treated DH to the new Peter Green anthology; he more than deserves it for his patience this week. Actually, he enjoys churchcrawling, and I think it amuses him when I get a bit squeakily excited about something. (And, hey, it’s not every day you get to see the keyboard removed from a church organ during restoration. So he does get to see… um… unusual things when he joins me on research trips.)
Am planning to take my best friend churchcrawling next weekend, as I’ve been promising to take her to see some wallpaintings for ages. If the weather’s good, we’ll go see some really early ones; but if the s-word cometh, we’re staying in with good coffee and home-made cake. Lots of.
Monday, October 27, 2008
half term
Current work: various fiction and nonfic
Listening to: probably Badfinger (if we go out in DH’s car)
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (definitely recommended)
Saturday looked as if it was going to be the only decent day of the holiday, so that meant a trip over the border to deepest Suffolk and down the coast, then heading inland. DH is quite used to my ‘did you know…?’ habit and usually completely unfazed, but he raised an eyebrow at this one. ‘There’s a crocodile in a church window?’ Yup. They thought it was a dragon.
Anyway. Wormington church is incredibly pretty. The wall leans outwards, as if it’s simply too tired to stand up straight any longer, and the way in is via some stone steps over said wall. And there in the window was the crocodile.
Listening to: probably Badfinger (if we go out in DH’s car)
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (definitely recommended)
Saturday looked as if it was going to be the only decent day of the holiday, so that meant a trip over the border to deepest Suffolk and down the coast, then heading inland. DH is quite used to my ‘did you know…?’ habit and usually completely unfazed, but he raised an eyebrow at this one. ‘There’s a crocodile in a church window?’ Yup. They thought it was a dragon.
Anyway. Wormington church is incredibly pretty. The wall leans outwards, as if it’s simply too tired to stand up straight any longer, and the way in is via some stone steps over said wall. And there in the window was the crocodile.
(You want the full story? We-e-ell – it’s out next summer, published by Halsgrove: the Suffolk follow-up to Norfolk Ghosts and Legends. I have plans for the year after, too, involving my birth county, though I have yet to do the outline.)
Then to Bures, where I happened to know there was a 13th-century wooden effigy (yup, another of my crusaders. This one was for the church book, Again, maximising use of travel). Apparently the shield is a rare survival. He also has a very cute lion at his feet.
Madam and son persuaded DH to let them go on the village playground while I was pottering round the church. Apparently, there was one tiny bit of mud on the whole playing field – and Madam just had to fall in it. I returned to find her wet and grubby and ever so slightly grumpy. (This meant going to nearby large town and feeding her cake. Yeah, yeah: like mother, like daughter. I did not have cake. I was keeping an eye on the light and working out when to start chivvying.)Next, to St Stephen’s chapel. This is connected with the King Edmund story – and if the weather is kind I intend to go to Hoxne this week to take pics for another bit of it. But as this will involves walking across a field (on a permitted footpath, I should add), we definitely need a nice day. Not like Sunday, when the rain set in and the kids played games while DH read the paper and I sneaked off to my desk. (Did a big chunk on the church book, too; am currently researching weather vanes and clocks.)
Plans for today depend greatly on the weather. Oh, and on the Pandora front – not even the flicker of a grump. DH even admitted it was nice. (Uh-oh. This may well mean he has arranged something and has yet to break it to me...)
Friday, October 24, 2008
spooky night and lovely day
Current work: semi day off
Listening to: Manic Street Preachers
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (am really enjoying this and I think I need my own copy for my research collection - it’s that good)
Last night saw me talking to about 100 people about ghosts and legends of Norfolk, with my National Year of Reading 2007 writer-in-residence hat on. I was fine until I walked in and saw just how big the room was and how many chairs there were. Sucked in a breath, calmed down - and then everyone came back from their ghost walk and the room filled up…
But the OHP and the screen worked (after a bit of propping up by us!), the people organising it were lovely, and once I started talking… I mean, I know my subject. I can ad-lib. I’m not a showman like Richard on the ghost walk is (I covet his top hat and his black velvet cape!), but I do tell stories for a living: so I pretended I was talking to the kids, and I was absolutely fine. What really thrilled me afterwards was the huge queue of people asking me to sign their copy of my book, and people coming up to me during the buffet to chat. Times like these are definitely precious.
Today was lovely, too – son had a teacher-training day, so we headed into town to pick up my new specs. The pressure in my eyes is still a little too high (hmm… maybe because I was wide awake from 2am to 4.30am last night) so I have to go back in a year for a recheck. Then we went to look at the bracelets to scope out Madam's birthday present.
Verdict: they’re utterly lovely. They look nice on a computer screen. In the flesh, they're better.
So... I was bad.
(OK, so there are two on the bracelet, but that’s because the one I eventually chose was cheaper than the one I’d originally intended to buy, and just one charm looked a bit plain. This is a zoomed-in pic: the main charm is about as wide as my little fingernail.)
There were three contenders for the charm that tells me I won the RNA prize, and son helped me choose. There’s a gold heart (shape = romance, colour = equivalent of sporting medal. i.e. winner), it has a ‘C’ on each side (the initial of my son and my daughter), and starbursts top and bottom (as in fireworks = celebration). So I think that fits the bill really nicely.
The plan is to add a new charm for each new M&B I sell; each charm will be appropriate to the book. (Yes, of course I have the next one planned.) And over the years it’s going to become a very precious keepsake.
Listening to: Manic Street Preachers
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (am really enjoying this and I think I need my own copy for my research collection - it’s that good)
Last night saw me talking to about 100 people about ghosts and legends of Norfolk, with my National Year of Reading 2007 writer-in-residence hat on. I was fine until I walked in and saw just how big the room was and how many chairs there were. Sucked in a breath, calmed down - and then everyone came back from their ghost walk and the room filled up…
But the OHP and the screen worked (after a bit of propping up by us!), the people organising it were lovely, and once I started talking… I mean, I know my subject. I can ad-lib. I’m not a showman like Richard on the ghost walk is (I covet his top hat and his black velvet cape!), but I do tell stories for a living: so I pretended I was talking to the kids, and I was absolutely fine. What really thrilled me afterwards was the huge queue of people asking me to sign their copy of my book, and people coming up to me during the buffet to chat. Times like these are definitely precious.
Today was lovely, too – son had a teacher-training day, so we headed into town to pick up my new specs. The pressure in my eyes is still a little too high (hmm… maybe because I was wide awake from 2am to 4.30am last night) so I have to go back in a year for a recheck. Then we went to look at the bracelets to scope out Madam's birthday present.
Verdict: they’re utterly lovely. They look nice on a computer screen. In the flesh, they're better.
So... I was bad.
Or was I?
I had intended to buy a painting with my RNA prize money, but I haven’t found the right one yet. Now, as I – like many authors – tend to suffer from self-doubt (aka the crows), I could do with something tangible to keep said doubts at bay.
The Radley handbag is half of it. The other half is what I bought today. One Pandora bracelet and the first charm.
(OK, so there are two on the bracelet, but that’s because the one I eventually chose was cheaper than the one I’d originally intended to buy, and just one charm looked a bit plain. This is a zoomed-in pic: the main charm is about as wide as my little fingernail.)
There were three contenders for the charm that tells me I won the RNA prize, and son helped me choose. There’s a gold heart (shape = romance, colour = equivalent of sporting medal. i.e. winner), it has a ‘C’ on each side (the initial of my son and my daughter), and starbursts top and bottom (as in fireworks = celebration). So I think that fits the bill really nicely.
The plan is to add a new charm for each new M&B I sell; each charm will be appropriate to the book. (Yes, of course I have the next one planned.) And over the years it’s going to become a very precious keepsake.
I'm aware that I've been a bit frivolous and self-indulgent in the middle of a recession, which is a v bad thing. However, I don't go pubbing and clubbing, I don’t spend a fortune on clothes and shoes, and actually this is my third self-indulgent purchase this year: the pearls for being shortlisted for the RNA prize, the Radley bag (half my RNA prize money) and the bracelet. I don't buy designer clothes and shoes. Books... well, that's work so it doesn't count. I've actually been reasonably good with chocolate, lately. So, in the scheme of things, spread over the course of this year, it's not too bad :o)
Thursday, October 23, 2008
displacement (and a discovery)
Current work: new Medical/nonfic/tinkering with other projects
Listening to: Whitesnake
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (interesting subject matter and I like his style - good read - it's research and am thoroughly enjoying it – NB this is a huge book so it’ll take me a while!)
This morning, daughter announced that she’d like a charm bracelet for her birthday. Tonight, I’m doing a talk to rather a lot of people, so I’m a tad fidgety today… hence the displacement activity of looking up charm bracelets this morning.
They seem to come either pre-loaded (with stuff that is not to my taste and probably won’t be to hers), or they’re eye-wateringly expensive (for a child her age… hmm…).
And then I discovered the ‘modern’ charm bracelets. Pandora. Utterly gorgeous. And I’d rather like one.
Which is odd, because I’m not really a jewellery person. I wear my wedding ring, my watch (also bought by DH) and if I’m dressing up I’ll wear a pendant or my posh pearls. But I’m not one for lots of rings or ankle-chains or bracelets or earrings (especially not earrings – do I look as if I’m mad enough to let someone stick a needle through my ear and cause me lots of pain?).
Though the charms that go with the Pandora bracelets are lovely. Murano glass and the kind of quirky stuff that I like. (Very like a medieval rosary, in fact... but I digress and I am not supposed to be working on medieval stuff today.) And something my friend Ray-Anne said a while back stuck in my mind: her DH bought her a charm bracelet to celebrate the sale of her first M&B, and she’s going to add a charm with each book. What a lovely, lovely idea.
If I did that (and backdated it) I’d have a Pandora bracelet AND necklace by now, especially if I added the nonfics. I can’t be that naughty. (Really, I can’t. Not unless Radley is involved.) But I do like the idea of a charm per book. Something special to keep.
So I read up about the company. They come from Denmark. Hmm. So does my mother’s side of the family (her grandmother was a Danish midwife). They’ve been going for 25 years, and I recently celebrated my 25th M&B (last year = recent in book terms, yes?).
You can see where this is going. Same way as I convinced myself about the Radley bag. This is meant to be, is it not?
And although I make a point of never, EVER dressing my daughter as a mini-me (and in any case she has a completely different style – she’s far more girly than I am), I could stretch a point for this, as we’d choose very different charms. Hers would be girly. Mine would be quirky. (Supposing they teamed up with Radley for a dog… or had a spaniel rather than Patch…)
I have to go into town tomorrow to pick up my new specs and see about Madam’s birthday pressie, depending on what she says tonight. Son has an inset day. Whether he’s a good or a bad influence remains to be seen :o)
Listening to: Whitesnake
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (interesting subject matter and I like his style - good read - it's research and am thoroughly enjoying it – NB this is a huge book so it’ll take me a while!)
This morning, daughter announced that she’d like a charm bracelet for her birthday. Tonight, I’m doing a talk to rather a lot of people, so I’m a tad fidgety today… hence the displacement activity of looking up charm bracelets this morning.
They seem to come either pre-loaded (with stuff that is not to my taste and probably won’t be to hers), or they’re eye-wateringly expensive (for a child her age… hmm…).
And then I discovered the ‘modern’ charm bracelets. Pandora. Utterly gorgeous. And I’d rather like one.
Which is odd, because I’m not really a jewellery person. I wear my wedding ring, my watch (also bought by DH) and if I’m dressing up I’ll wear a pendant or my posh pearls. But I’m not one for lots of rings or ankle-chains or bracelets or earrings (especially not earrings – do I look as if I’m mad enough to let someone stick a needle through my ear and cause me lots of pain?).
Though the charms that go with the Pandora bracelets are lovely. Murano glass and the kind of quirky stuff that I like. (Very like a medieval rosary, in fact... but I digress and I am not supposed to be working on medieval stuff today.) And something my friend Ray-Anne said a while back stuck in my mind: her DH bought her a charm bracelet to celebrate the sale of her first M&B, and she’s going to add a charm with each book. What a lovely, lovely idea.
If I did that (and backdated it) I’d have a Pandora bracelet AND necklace by now, especially if I added the nonfics. I can’t be that naughty. (Really, I can’t. Not unless Radley is involved.) But I do like the idea of a charm per book. Something special to keep.
So I read up about the company. They come from Denmark. Hmm. So does my mother’s side of the family (her grandmother was a Danish midwife). They’ve been going for 25 years, and I recently celebrated my 25th M&B (last year = recent in book terms, yes?).
You can see where this is going. Same way as I convinced myself about the Radley bag. This is meant to be, is it not?
And although I make a point of never, EVER dressing my daughter as a mini-me (and in any case she has a completely different style – she’s far more girly than I am), I could stretch a point for this, as we’d choose very different charms. Hers would be girly. Mine would be quirky. (Supposing they teamed up with Radley for a dog… or had a spaniel rather than Patch…)
I have to go into town tomorrow to pick up my new specs and see about Madam’s birthday pressie, depending on what she says tonight. Son has an inset day. Whether he’s a good or a bad influence remains to be seen :o)
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
w-w-w-w-w…
Current work: new Medical/tinkering with other projects
Listening to: The Fray
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (interesting subject matter and I like his style - good read - it's research and am thoroughly enjoying it)
It's harder to get up on these dark mornings. And I think we wished we hadn't bothered when we were divebombed by wasps! There appeared to be a stream of them heading just under the garage roof. Clearly a nest. Not good. Son was relatively calm, but Madam was starting to panic. I managed to be cool, calm Mummy, told them to walk slowly and stay very still if a wasp flew near, and get into the car.
OK, so wasps aren’t anywhere near as scary as what Jill Shalvis has been facing this week. Bu-u-ut… Last time I was stung, I reacted quite badly. I can laugh about the sting story now, but it hurt like mad at the time. But what do you do when a wasp flies down your cleavage, just as you walk into a lift with a complete stranger? You can’t exactly rip off your shirt and yell, ‘There’s a wasp in my bra!’ because… well, you don’t just rip off your clothes in front of a strange man, do you? So I was polite and British, and the wasp panicked at being trapped and stung me. So that’s why I’m a tad nervous around wasps. (No, I haven't told the kids why. I still regret telling them why I'm a tad nervous about cats. They think it's hilarious.)
As soon as I got home (after getting my slides done for Thursday’s talk and seeing the phlebo for routine blood tests – the joys of an underactive thyroid), I rang Environmental Health. The woman on the other end of the line was utterly lovely and very patient. She said that the wasps should die off in a few weeks when it gets colder, darker and wetter; and, because they don’t use the same nest twice, we should be fine next year. My choice: put up with it for a few weeks, or she could send some men round to sort out my wasps.
Had they been bees, I would’ve been very flattered to be chosen and then would’ve called a local beekeeper to collect them and keep them safely over the winter. I like bees. But wasps… I’m sorry. I know they’re good for biocontrol, and I know they make beautiful, beautiful nests, but I can’t live with them. So the environmental health people are coming out today. (I would’ve preferred yesterday, but…!)
And the floor... still waiting. I have made the point about mud and the fact that I am tired of waiting and the sheer lack of contact. I have a feeling I'll have to do a bit of chasing on this (sigh - as if I don't have anything better to do).
Righty. Glass half full: some nice news. My mate Amy Andrews has her first Presents Extra out - and it's hit #5 on the Waldies list. Go, Amy!
Plan for today: work, guitar, then wait for the wasp men.
Listening to: The Fray
Reading: Nicholas Orme, Medieval children (interesting subject matter and I like his style - good read - it's research and am thoroughly enjoying it)
It's harder to get up on these dark mornings. And I think we wished we hadn't bothered when we were divebombed by wasps! There appeared to be a stream of them heading just under the garage roof. Clearly a nest. Not good. Son was relatively calm, but Madam was starting to panic. I managed to be cool, calm Mummy, told them to walk slowly and stay very still if a wasp flew near, and get into the car.
OK, so wasps aren’t anywhere near as scary as what Jill Shalvis has been facing this week. Bu-u-ut… Last time I was stung, I reacted quite badly. I can laugh about the sting story now, but it hurt like mad at the time. But what do you do when a wasp flies down your cleavage, just as you walk into a lift with a complete stranger? You can’t exactly rip off your shirt and yell, ‘There’s a wasp in my bra!’ because… well, you don’t just rip off your clothes in front of a strange man, do you? So I was polite and British, and the wasp panicked at being trapped and stung me. So that’s why I’m a tad nervous around wasps. (No, I haven't told the kids why. I still regret telling them why I'm a tad nervous about cats. They think it's hilarious.)
As soon as I got home (after getting my slides done for Thursday’s talk and seeing the phlebo for routine blood tests – the joys of an underactive thyroid), I rang Environmental Health. The woman on the other end of the line was utterly lovely and very patient. She said that the wasps should die off in a few weeks when it gets colder, darker and wetter; and, because they don’t use the same nest twice, we should be fine next year. My choice: put up with it for a few weeks, or she could send some men round to sort out my wasps.
Had they been bees, I would’ve been very flattered to be chosen and then would’ve called a local beekeeper to collect them and keep them safely over the winter. I like bees. But wasps… I’m sorry. I know they’re good for biocontrol, and I know they make beautiful, beautiful nests, but I can’t live with them. So the environmental health people are coming out today. (I would’ve preferred yesterday, but…!)
And the floor... still waiting. I have made the point about mud and the fact that I am tired of waiting and the sheer lack of contact. I have a feeling I'll have to do a bit of chasing on this (sigh - as if I don't have anything better to do).
Righty. Glass half full: some nice news. My mate Amy Andrews has her first Presents Extra out - and it's hit #5 on the Waldies list. Go, Amy!
Plan for today: work, guitar, then wait for the wasp men.
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