Wordless Wednesday

Sunday Snippet

From 'Started Early, Took My Dog' by Kate Atkinson.

'He had been trying to visit all of the Betty's Tea Rooms - Ilkley, Northallerton, two in Harrogate, two in York. A genteel itinerary that would have done a coachload of elderly ladies proud. Jackson was a big fan of Betty's. You could guarantee a decent cup of coffee in Betty's, but it went beyond the decent coffee and the respectable food and the fact that the waitresses all looked as if they were nice girls (and women) who had been parcelled up some time in the 1930s and freshly unwrapped this morning. It was the way that everything was exactly right and fitting. And clean.'

Kate Atkinson - probably my favourite author. I admire her capability for depicting characters so that they appear vividly in the 'mind's eye' and her ability to weave the threads of her tale to become, with the final words, a complete garment.

Sky Watch Friday

An amazing winter sunrise - from our garden. Sometimes it is hard to believe that they are real.

Photo for One Moment

Sad ... incongrous ... and rust marks the years of abandon

Sunday Snippet

From 'Wolf Hall' by Hilary Mantel




Page 196 and 197

He understands that the whole purpose of the evening has been to warn him: to warn him off. He will remember it, the fatal placement: if it proves fatal. That soft hiss and whisper, of stone destroying itself; that distant sound of walls sliding, of plaster crumbling, of rubble crashing onto fragile human skulls? That is the sound of the roof of Christendom, falling on the people below.

Bonvisi says, "You have a private army, Tomasso. I suppose you have to watch your back."
"You know I do." His glance sweeps the room: one last look. "Goodnight. It was a good supper. I liked the eels. Will you send your cook to mine? I have a new sauce to brighten the season. One needs mace and ginger, some dried mint leaves chopped -"
His friend says, "I beg of you. I implore you to be careful."
" - a little, but very little garlic -"
"Wherever you dine next, pray do not -"
" - and of breadcrumbs, a scant handful ..."
" - sit down with the Boleyns."

A little more than a snippet, but it gives the 'feel of the story.

Too Many Words

Odd that I should write this, BUT during this year, I have read five novels that, for me, have in them 'too many words'. This is how I would describe a novel that incorporates large portions of historical information - social, factual and sometimes both.

Currently, I am reading 'Wolf Hall' by Hilary Mantel, which is my kind of novel in that I enjoy the style, character portrayal and the story. Hilary writes in her 'The Novelist's Arithmetic' at the back of the book:

'The (historian) wonders why you don't include all the detail' .... 'and the (literary critic) wonders why you aren't more slick.'

'The art, therefore, lies in grasping why things happened and then forgetting the reasons.'

'The (novelist) lives inside the consciousness of her characters, for whom the future is blank' ... 'agrees just to move forward with her characters, walking into the dark.'

Mmm ... yes ... I say.

The parenthesis are mine for clarification and the extracts abridged.

Sunday Snippet

I have just finished reading 'The Children's Book' A.S. Byatt

In the beginning ...

p36-37

'The Wellwood's Midsummer was a slightly movable feast ... Philip was assigned to help with the decoration of the garden and orchard. ... All chairs were requisitioned - wicker chairs, deckchairs, schoolroom chairs, the nursery rocking chair, cane and metal garden chairs. They were placed in arbours, in the clearing in the centre of the shrubbery, even in the orchard. Then the lanterns were swung from branches ...'

The idyllic summers of Edwardian times, when it seemed that the 'ideal life' could become a reality

... to ...

p614

'They sat, the survivors, quietly round the dinner table, and drank to the memory of Leon. ... Philip sat at the end of the table in a wheelchair that supported his leg. ...'

... a portrayal of the ravages of war.

Library Workshops

I am back home. Today has been remarkable, very still, cloudless sky and the garden full of birdsong. A day for just thinking and basking in the lower rays of sunlight and clearly defined shadow.

I digress.

Lit. & Phil. Library, Newcastle

Libraries are amazing venues; very intimate. To be surrounded by books and those interested in books; to see the delight on the faces of children eager to create and illustrate; to speak with parents, grandparents, librarians; all wonderful experiences.

The first library is small and cosy, all of us in a corner and the browsers peering from between the rows of books. First the reading, followed by designing characters and finishing with six picture storyboards, telling the character's tale in words and pictures.

The second library, a glass edifice, a beacon for reading, research, retreat from the bustling city life reflected in its 'window-walls'. Here, we gather in a room apart and there is time for sharing thoughts on how each mind processes its writing, drawing skills and how to make use of those.

The third library, set in parkland where I played as a child, evokes memories of the original, severe and uninviting library positioned above the bus station. I forced myself to overcome the glowering librarians of that day, to be among beloved books; dreaded being singled out for making some error. But now,the parkland provides a backdrop, friendliness pervades and we chat and discuss, future opportunities here, next summer.

I leave the libraries enthused by their response and encouragement - smiling, for is that not a part of life's purpose, to encourage one another??

Lit. & Phil. Library, Newcastle

Ode to Autumn

Here is my

'Ode to Autumn'

created to wish you all a glorious autumn and to 'hold' my Post page whilst I am away in the North of England next week, doing library workshops ..... which I love to do, so it is no chore and very energising.

¡Hasta luego!

A Discovery

I am back again, having slightly neglected posting, indulging in other writing and some painting. But I do want to share this, however odd I may appear.

Look at what I have inadvertently come across - an archaic word -

'Hornswoggle'

I can picture it already but, alas, it is a transitive verb; slang for to cheat or to hoax.

However, I can feel it developing a life of its own as a necessary character in 'Discovering Jasmine T' (third book in the 'Violet Jelly' trilogy). I need this wily creature to confuse and mislead. It will appear, slithery and impish, out of the ether.

I share my first tentative scribblings of the Hornswoggle .......

Photo for One Moment

Emergent creatures

One Morning

Out of the mists of time mountain dens become dragons' lairs whilst the Indian legend sleeps on his rocky outcrop.



The sun rises



Awake, the Indian lies, face to the dawn sky and dragons' wings beat breath of fire onto the morning air



Montgo is the mountain that I see daily. The sleeping Indian is at the edge of the outcrop in the first photograph. He is in the middle in the third, with his chin, lips and nose upwards to the sky.

These are musings from photographs taken .... early one morning.