2019 in Focus: August

2019 in Focus: August has gone to print. 

Every day in August I went for a walk with my camera and took photos. I chose some to represent each day and wrote accompanying verse. Every photo and all but one verse was created on the stated day (that one was done the morning after). The photos are not all in focus, but when I chose a fuzzy one it was for a good reason.

I knew I’d be away for part of August, so the theme is Home Away Back.

I made some of the photos into sets or collages. A few of them have been digitally altered to remove something ugly and intrusive or to create a flipped pattern. This was done in Paint. Colour, brightness and contrast are left natural and I didn’t use any effects. The coloured frames and text were mostly done using sampled colour from the photos.

 I managed to contain the size to 149 pages this time; let's hope I can keep September to a reasonable size too!

Jigsaw Cards Remade

Jigsaw Cards Remade
Well, they never did turn up, so I remade them using three sets this time...
Here are a few samples.
Pick one from each set to get an idea.

OBJECTS
 hat horse ink bottle statue ice ice-cream Jack jumpers joey kite

 kitten kettle bird computer dingo dog cake brumby lake tree ring

DESCRIPTORS

A strange A flying A painted An inky An ice Black Purple sparkling

An ugly An angry A shining A scary A dripping A weird A tiny

ACTION

I want I need I don’t want Scared of Running from Looking for I found

The teacher asked for Hunting for Finding Losing Chasing Packing

Selling Buying Inventing Discovering I laugh at Racing Getting rid of

Ideas:
I want a strange hat...
Looking for a flying statue
Discovering an inky cake...

Jigsaw Cards AWOL

Jigsaw writing... I'm holding some workshops in Townsville next week and (naturally) I can't find my jigsaw writing cards. I'll have a look in a few more places, and then probably give in and make some more. This time, I might try three different cards rather than two,  and make one set all objects, one set all subjects and one set all modifiers. Wish me luck!

Blossom Perspective

This photo was taken in the dusk looking up through blossom. Interesting effect... It's the kind of thing that inspires thoughts and makes you look at things differently

Line 11 Page 111 2019 in Focus: June

Just to keep an eye to see

How long the nest would stay be-egged

I thought (you know) that roaming dogs

And kicking kids would have them pegged

Line 11 Page 111 The Pixie Grip

Line 11 on Page 111 doesn't stand alone, so here's the paragraph.

"Peter, can I tell you something I’m scared of?”

“Bogles?”

She giggled. “Not while I have gingerbread in my pocket. Currie says if I ever see a bogle it’s probably someone with a bogle manifest, and gingerbread is bound to help.”

“It works on goats,” Peter G remarked

Pearl 8

I'll be beginning work on Pearl 8 soon. I have an idea to use a different setting.
So far, we have books set mainly in the meadow, on the cliffs and an island, partly on a snowy mountain, in the forest, at Ogrefest, Big Rock and near the pond. The Kingdom, where all the stories take place, has lots of different landscapes and next time I rather like the idea of a desert.

Gravity Defying Rock

I saw the weirdest thing in one of my photos a few days ago. I didn't see it in situ, just later, when I went through my pictures. It was so odd, I went back today for a look and there it was... the gravity-defying rock.
I wonder what the story is behind that one?

Slam Poem

For the poetry slam today I need a poem to perform in under two minutes. I had FOUR to pick from... These are below. DECISIONS DECISIONS


SLAM

Slam!

Bam!

Kipper ham!

Don’t ask me whence

 that reference came

I remember it

I know

Vaguely up from long ago

But I confess

I do digress

Don’t you find

it funny how-

things-linger-in-the mind?

Slam!

Dunk

What the…

Um…

Bunk!

I don’t play basketball

At all

Although I’m tall…

I’m prone to fall

No co-ordination see

Balls are mysteries to me

I hardly give a toss…

(Well, that’s the nation’s loss…)

Slam!

Shots!

Not?

You sure?

I thought I heard it somewhere

Between the lemon and the salted hand

Bad for the liver anyway

I’ll take chocolate any day!

Slam!

Slam!

Stamp the floor

Slam!

Bang

The door

No more please

Temper tantrums court disease

Slam!

Sorry

Yes I am

It was the wind in the door

For sure

Slam!

What?

It’s poetry?

I do believe…

You’re bamming me?

(D’you like my word? It’s out of Georgette Heyer)

Muse on fire!

Slam!

Worse?

You wanted verse?

That’s just perverse!

SLAM!

Slam

slam

FOLLOWING THE DRUM

Oh, once I slept in a feather bed

With woollen blankets warm

Now I’m glad to lay my head

On a cloak that’s old and torn

Oh, sing with me a merry catch

As summer days will come

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m ragged and worn

And my hose are torn-

Yet I am following along

Oh once I ate from a silver plate

With sauces rich and rare

Now I’m glad if I’m not too late

To find some bread to share

Oh sup with me on a scraggy fowl

And dream of sugar plums

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m ragged and worn

And my hose are torn-

Yet I am following along

Oh once I wore a silken shawl

And a bonnet of ribbon trim

Now I’m glad if I’m clad at all

‘Twixt my ankles and my chin

Oh sew with me in a sturdy stitch

And do not prick your thumb

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m lame and tired before my time

But still I follow him along

Oh, I'm lame and tired but I still smile-

And still I follow him along

MEMORIAL HALL 

I’ve always liked the memorial hall

Rosy bricks in that soft blending

Penned between pale mortared lines

In that peculiar zone of pink and brown

I walked around the memorial hall

Observing every side, till, bending

I spotted dark and white; the signs

Of the pride of a younger, bygone town

I often admire the colour scheme

And my mind walks back to a funny scene

When I and a friend stood upon the stage

As angels in a Christmas play

Looking back, it’s like a dream

For who remembers it but me?

We wore, I remember, long white gowns

Nighties? Maybe. They came down

Right to our slippers (silent soled)

Stand there quietly we’d been told

Teachers smiled in the bygone town

At good little girls in flowing gowns

Stiffened wings of wire and gauze

Affixed to our shoulders… well, because

Good little angels must have wings!

Just as they must herald things…

Wired-on wings but wait, there’s more!

Oh! I remember kind applause!

The piece de resistance I recall

As we stood on stage in the rosy hall

Were tinsel halos made of wire

Above our heads; awe inspired!

There we were, standing straight and tall

Be-winged, be-haloed in the hall

But then- disaster almost struck

Two little halos tangled up!

There we stood tilting head to head

Would real angels feel our dread?

Gowned and winged with halos stuck

We  stood quite still and trusted luck

The curtain fell on our Christmas play

A teacher came while it still swayed

Briskly she untangled us

And praised us! Girls! You made no fuss!

And we felt special in a gratified way

‘cos we’d been angels for a day

So oh, I love the memorial hall

So many memories enthral

And when you read the sign you’ll see

The memorial hall’s older than me…

 Sweet Charity

Miss Charity Curtin

The locals are certain’s

a vicarage mouse to a T

She’s shy and obscure

and extremely demure

as she offers you scones with your tea

She lowers her gaze

and looks gentle and grave

in her grey Sunday hat and pelisse

When you come to the house;

she’s as meek as a mouse

and a typical vicarage miss.

But

Sweet Charity isn’t at all as she seems

when we meet after Matins is done

She casts off her grey

in her sauciest way

soon after the hymns have been sung

With hair pinned in curls

She’s the merriest girl

And her smile turns my stomach to water

With her arms brown and bare

She has laughter to spare

Not your typical vicarage daughter

Her father the vicar

Has no fear of snickers

He trusts what his daughter’s about

Such a God-fearing girl

tho’ her hair is in curls

does her duty with never a pout

There isn’t a rift

between papa and miss

 as he knows she’s a treasure for certain

And what about me?

oh, be sure I agree

for I’ll marry Miss Charity Curtin

And when she’s my bride and we’re off on our own

and the wellwishers left far behind

Then she’ll let down her hair

and happily share

whatever the future we’ll find

She’ll dance like a willow

and sleep on my pillow

forever the love of my life

I’ll be thanking the Lord

Mrs Charity Ward’s

not your typical vicarage wife

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

(Psalm 98) 

There's a...

I have a dozen or more books to edit for others.
I have a book to finish writing for a deadline.
I have a lot of books waiting for me to write.
So... why am I writing verse?
'Cos there's a poetry slam tomorrow... that's why!

Pearl's Still Progressing...

I'm still working on Pearl the Friendly Unicorn. Here's a piece where Pearl meets a new friend. This material is first draft, so it may not make it into the book.

‘You’re a bat!’ Pearl said.

            ‘I know,’ it said. ‘I don’t know what you are though. You look like a horse with a spike on its head. It’s a pretty spike, though.’

            Pearl laughed. ‘Thank you. I’m a unicorn. I’m not surprised you didn’t know. I’m the only one in the kingdom, as far as I know.’

            The bat squeaked, ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m sorry if I upset you. I was flying about catching my supper, and I didn’t really see you. I hunt by sound, you see.’

            ‘That’s interesting,’ Pearl said. ‘I’m Pearl. What’s your name?’

            ‘Flit,’ the bat said, ‘but you probably don’t want to talk to me. I make most folk nervous.’

Every so often, I get an email from someone who has encountered one of my poems on the 'net and who has been trying to find its provenance. These people think the pieces are "old", you see.  The one that attracts the most queries is called Following the Drum. It's in my collection Long Ago Love Songs.

Following the Drum

Oh, once I slept in a feather bed

With woollen blankets warm

Now I’m glad to lay my head

On a cloak that’s old and torn

Oh, sing with me a merry catch

As summer days will come

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m ragged and worn

And my hose are torn-

Yet I am following along

Oh once I ate from a silver plate

With sauces rich and rare

Now I’m glad if I’m not too late

To find some bread to share

Oh sup with me on a scraggy fowl

And dream of sugar plums

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m ragged and worn

And my hose are torn-

Yet I am following along

Pearl - a work in progress

I'm writing Pearl Number 7! Here's an excerpt.

“Do some magic for me,” said the frog.

The other frogs croaked crossly.

“You’ve got to ask politely,” one said.

“Don’t see why. She does magic for that firebird and that ogre girl.”

“They’re her friends, Splotch. You’re not her friend.”

“Does it matter?”

The other frogs laughed. ‘It matters,’ one said.

‘’If I had more bugs than I can eat, I might give some to you, because you’re my friend. If you weren’t, I’d expect you to ask politely.’

‘Sorry.” The big frog cleared its throat and started again. “Please, unicorn, would you do some magic for me?”

Inspired by a Branch

Husband of the Year - Not

A Chocolate Misapprehension

Chocky Lochie loved his choc; he loved his chocolate a lot

Choc-fuelled, he vaunted grant ambition for a high-choc-chief position

For this honour Chocky knew he had to render something new…

So Chocky Lochie made a plan; a clever-clogsy kind of scam

He went to Marge, his patient wife and swore upon his munching life

If she would lend her time machine he’d polish it and make it gleam…

Chocky Lochie took the helm and high-tailed to the Aztec realm

Parleyed there and made an offer for the contents of their coffers

Roaring, “Chocolate ahoy!” this chocolate-consuming boy

Flittered back to Chocolate Town hoping for his new renown.

With eagerness and fell intention he proclaimed his own invention

Chocolate as you’ve never eaten! Now, I know it can’t be beaten!

Beaming with benevolence the judges soon dispelled suspense

But their faces frowned and scrunched for Chocky’s loot could not be munched…

Bravely though, they raised and sipped. The chocolate foamed and oozed and dripped

Ick! It had a bitter taste and Chocky’s efforts went to waste

You see, he’d never realised that modern chocolate is disguised

The bitter foaming peppered slop is now a solid moreish block

So Chocky Lochie made an error…now he lives in constant terror

Marge will find her time machine was pawned to finance Chocky’s dream.

A Lament on a Misnomer

Think before you use those words people come up with!

I’m not a chocoholic

The term just drives me nuts

So please refrain from using it

And if you really must

Explain to me in syllables

Of choc or o or hol-ic

Exactly how you parse the term

(It’s giving me a colic)

If I boozed unto excess

I’d be an alcoholic

That’s alcohol plus ic, you see

(And pretty melancholic)

Now play the game of mashing terms

And look at chocoholic

And you will see it flouts the form

It’s horribly shambolic

Chocolate plus ic, you see!

So give that fake the flick

And say the proper term with me

I am a chocolate-ic.

Xanthe and the Seaman

My brand new novella Xanthe and the Seaman is out now! If the cover looks a bit familiar, that's because it shares a cover picture with my July book, Betony Buys Adventure. They're both part of the Fairy in the Bed series and also the Scorched Souls collection. I've been a bit curious about the seamen ever since I mentioned them, in passing, in Honey and the Harvest Hob back in 2017. Now one of them is a major character. Another one appeared in Betony, but he wasn't always a seaman. Mor, the hero of Xanthe and the Seaman, is. He's one of the oddest heroes (using the term loosely) I've so far invented. If you'd like to check it out, it's available through this link:
https://www.extasybooks.com/special-collections/scorched-souls/978-1-4874-2517-3-xanthe-and-the-seaman/ - but only if you're 18+!

Writers Read

This pictorial comment is the header for a new blog I have started which is especially for authors who wish to advertise their new books. I hope it will remind them that for our industry to survive, people have to buy new books. And yes, that has to include authors! I've said it before and will no doubt say it several more times...

If anyone reading this is an author, and has a new book to advertise,let me know and I'll be happy to host your book on the new blogs. This pair differs from my Promote Me Please pair in that for PMP I send questions to the author to answer whereas with RealWritersRead, authors send me whatever they wish to showcase.

2019 in Focus July

 2019 in Focus: July has gone to the printer. As usual, it's a book of verse and photographs, each taken/written on the day in question. This is the cover I chose, and below are the other cover pics I auditioned, along with votes from people who gave their opinions. In the end, I decided on a different picture, as you see!

Every day in July I went out for a walk with my camera and took photos. I chose some to represent each day and wrote accompanying verse. Every photo and verse was created on the stated day. The photos are not all in focus, but when I chose a fuzzy one it was for a good reason.

July came in blustery and wet. I liked the idea of using water or wind for a theme, but water has featured in every month so far, and wind and my camera aren’t good friends. Therefore, the theme for this edition of 2019 in Focus is Patterns and Perspectives.

I made some of the photos into sets or collages. A few of them have been digitally altered to remove something ugly and intrusive or to create a flipped pattern. This was done in Paint. Colour, brightness and contrast are left natural and I didn’t use any effects. The coloured frames and text were mostly done using sampled colour from the photos.