Books and Bombshells

It’s been a couple of busy days with exciting news late today.

When I awoke yesterday morning and heard that police had found a bomb in Haymarket, I wasn’t that keen on going to meet my friend, Pam, in London. In addition, the rain was pouring down. As I didn’t hear anything from her, I went anyway. Unbelievably, by 10.15, the sun was blazing down; that at least was good news.

Stupidly, I didn’t prepare something to write or read for my journey. My current book for the reading circle is Pride and Prejudice. I am reading a hardback edition, which I’ve had probably since I was ten or eleven. That means it’s too heavy to carry around an art gallery. I’m also reading Middlemarch for the first time; paperback, but also heavy. I couldn’t work up the enthusiasm for my previous unfinished book, The Emigrants. What was worse was that I didn’t look up the Writers’ News (http://www.writersnews.co.uk/) competitions to see if I could get started on a new story and I didn’t check back to my novel to see if I could take it on a bit further.

Train journeys are little oases in time when you can’t sort out the washing/ironing/paperwork, etc. And it’s a great shame to waste them.

They were very hot on security on the train. At one point, the guard announced they had found an empty shoebox and requested the owner to come and reclaim it. There is obviously a heightened sense of fear. And today’s news from Glasgow Airport will do nothing to diminish it.

Pam and I met up at the National Portrait Gallery and had lunch there before viewing the BP competition for portrait painters. It used to be for young artists, but now any age can take part. As a result it was less innovative, but always worth a look. We go regularly every year.

Red’n’Ritten have contacted me again to say they want to take copies of The Fruit of the Tree and turn it into an e-book too. Unlike A Bottle of Plonk, The Fruit of the Tree does fit into their particular market and I’m glad for them to take it on.

Today, Jennifer, Irene (www.myspace.com/ireneblack) and I went to the Winchester Writers’ Conference, (http://www.writersconference.co.uk/), where we had a stand selling Goldenford books (http://www.goldenford.co.uk/). Anne (www.myspace.com/annebrooke) was attending the conference – courses, interviews, etc. and had been at the stand most of yesterday. Consequently, a lot of people knew her from there or from other writer events. We had quite a successful couple of days and sold a variety of our books.

Although I hadn’t booked for the conference itself, I submitted some entries for their competitions, including my unpublished novel, Tainted Tree, to the First Three Pages of a Novel competition, to be judged by the publishers, Piatkus. I thought it would be beneficial to have the Piatkus critique – Irene had told me it was very useful to her last year. Also, the short story I submitted to Winchester last year came back to me with a useful critique and I worked on it and submitted it to Radio Southern Counties, and was one of the twenty prize-winners who were broadcast on the station.

When I arrived, I was delighted to see that both Anne and I had been shortlisted in the Novel competition, me under my one-off pseudonym, Lady Macbeth. But the best news came when I was back home, this evening. Anne – still at the conference – telephoned me to tell me I had come second. What a lovely thing for Anne to do to take the trouble to ring me.

I was quite thrown by the news. I started walking round and round in circles around the house, like Dougal in The Magic Roundabout. It took me an hour before I could get down to making a meal – pasta, which we haven’t long finished. I’ll let you know when I hear anything official. But in the meantime, YIPPEE.

Rude prose and rude awakenings

I spent a large part of yesterday afternoon updating the Goldenford site, http://www.goldenford.co.uk/ to include the new entries on The Gawain Quest. I made a few errors and had to call on Mike to help me. It’s now there, though, together with front cover and rather steamy introduction. Check it out under ‘Books’. At the weekend we at Goldenford are manning (probably should say womanning) a sales stand at the Writers’ Conference at Winchester. Perhaps I’ll see some of you, my readership, there.

I have been in correspondence with Red’n’Ritten (http://www.rednritten.com/) a site that promotes publications containing no explicit sex and no gratuitous violence. I had originally offered them my autobiographical book, The Fruit of the Tree, which does qualify (http://freespace.virgin.net/jackie.luben/fruit.html) which they may sell from their virtual or actual shop. However, on looking at my novella, A Bottle of Plonk, they’ve decided against it. Apparently, it wouldn’t pass the censors.

Virtual Tales (http://www.virtualtales.com/) are have a month of special offers to celebrate their birthday. You can get two stories for one, etc. and other offers during June.
I’ve been to the optician today, and all’s well. There’s always a potential problem with someone with two very diverse eyes, apparently, and that’s that the really bad one will get more short-sighted and the not so bad one will improve. Although my good one is marginally less short-sighted, it’s not enough to matter or increase the differential between the two eyes dramatically.

My mini-piano (see above) has finally gone. I put it on Irene’s http://homepage.ntlworld.com/blacks.house/ Ebay site some time ago, and a woman and her 14 year old daughter came to visit. The daughter was very taken with it, but then someone in the Midlands outbid them. Almost immediately, the Midland lady’s husband broke his leg and the piano stayed with me for three months or so, until finally, she said that she had better not take it. I offered it to the original lady, who was absolutely delighted. We have been waiting for a convenient day and for someone to transport it and he, Kevin, telephoned yesterday. I arranged that he should come at about ten o’clock, but later I heard M say to him, ‘Come any time. Come 6.30 a.m. if you want to.’ Why do men, or should I say, why does M make these outrageous statements?

At 7.00 a.m., we were woken up by a ring at the door. In our groggy state, we thought it was Friday, and the milkman was ringing for his money. Eventually, we remembered and let Kevin and his partner in, and made tea for everyone. They told us they had telephoned at 5.50 a.m. Fortunately, we had the bedroom telephone switched off. I’d rather have a rude awakening at 7 o’clock than at six.

Profit and loss

Nothing like a bit of office work to bring you down to earth. I’ve just printed out a quotation, which took up some of the afternoon. That’s the problem with having the boss on the premises. Work can occur at any time of night and on any weekend. And my particular hate is taking dictation. M reminds me of the panellists on I’m sorry I haven’t a Clue when they are playing the game which requires them not to finish a sentence. Just as I’ve put in a full stop, he comes up with another clause in the never-ending piece of prose.

And you know what came in the post, yesterday? A warning from the VATman. Because of my lateness in submitting the return. All sorts of advice along with the warning of future fines – but how do you programme the visit of a five year old granddaughter into that equation?

More work on the shower base today, which is still saturated and needs drying out. In the meantime, there is no soap tray in the other shower (in the bath), and whilst under it today, M had to locate the slippery soap on the hand basin. It shot out of his hand, landing in the bath, and M promptly skidded on it and took a nose dive into the bath himself. This prompted us to fit a magnetic soap holder which I’ve had in the house for certainly five years, awaiting the right moment. Ill wind, as they say…



The Gawain book launch went very well yesterday. The Abbots Hospital, in Guildford High Street, was picturesque, see above, and the rain held off most of the time. The reading was well received and sales were excellent, mainly of The Gawain Quest but a few of our others – including mine – in addition. I was delighted to be told by a couple of the guests that they’d enjoyed A Bottle of Plonk. The Gawain Quest is now on sale at our website, http://www.goldenford.co.uk/ and follow the link to books.

With half an hour to go before closing time, I dragged an unwilling husband to Clarke’s to buy some shoes and sandals to replace the antiquated ones he couldn’t bear to throw away. He hates shopping, but with the car parked and us right in the centre of the shops, it was an opportunity to good to be missed. The good news – it was the first day of the sale and we saved around £35 on our two purchases.

Alas, as we returned to the car, which M had refused to park in the car park, as a matter of some incomprehensible principle, we spotted two parking attendants on patrol, obviously hoping to catch those people who park at 5.45, trying to get away with a bit of free parking. M had parked in a spot unmarked by lines and had got away with it on previous occasions. This time he didn’t. So the bad news - a parking fine of £60. The good news – if we pay up straight away, it’s reduced to £30. So with the benefits of the shoe sale, you could say we almost broke even on the day.

Ants, Hills and Glasses

After a day of tackling paperwork and the washing/ironing, I was out on Tuesday, giving a talk on self-publishing my book, The Fruit of the Tree, at a writers’ workshop. The tutor there taught at my first ever writing class at the Guildford Institute, where it still takes place. It seemed to go well and I sold a few books. Then we went out to lunch with a poet from the group – also one of the very early members. I also did a little shopping before returning home. Guildford has a lot of atmosphere, and I like shopping there, but it’s on the North Downs, so going up and down the High Street is very tiring if you’re not very fit. And living in a bungalow means my legs are not used to climbing.

I used a different contact lens, with not so much correction of my short sight, in my left eye. This enables me to read without glasses, which is useful on an occasion like this, when I’m referring to notes. Ny normal vision, of course, is not quite so good, so I had to wear glasses for driving. In fact I own so many different sorts of glasses, as well as my contacts, I should have a filing cabinet for them. Apart from the driving glasses and the ordinary glasses, for when I’m not wearing contacts, there’s also the sun glasses with prescription lenses and the ordinary sun glasses. Then there’s the several pairs of reading glasses, dotted around the house, and finally, a pair of reading sun glasses. This is a sop to my son, who can’t bear to see me wearing reading glasses underneath my sunglasses.

When I got home, I was delighted to find that M had removed the shower tray and the glass doors and side. I was dreading being the plumber’s mate in that job. The glass is heavy and M is very short of patience when he thinks you should know what he wants you to do, which of course I don’t, because if I’d wanted a practical career, I would have set out to have one. So I could see me dropping the doors, when he shouted, ‘Hold that.’ Or alternatively, him dropping the doors on me, because I got in the way. So one half of the job’s done. Now I only have the other half to dread - the reinstating of the shower cabinet. The whole area is saturated and has to dry out before we can do anything. When M smashed out the tray, he found an ant colony underneath, which is no surprise to me at all, but apparently was to him. He said he’d never seen so many eggs, and of course the ants (red ones and black ones) were charging all over the place, trying to protect the nest. He was completely unprepared and had to rush to find the spray, while the things were climbing all over him and all over the bathroom. The earth and stuff that he removed took a couple of dustbin bags. I must say when I heard this sorry tale, I was thankful all over again that I hadn’t been around at the time.

My Bottle of Plonk cover, details at my website, http://freespace.virgin.net/jackie.luben, is in a competition at: http://www.thecoveyawards.blogspot.com/. Please, if you feel so inclined, go and vote for it. It’s No. 11. There are no prizes; it’s just a matter of raising the profile of my book.

Kids, ants and leaks

The family have come and gone, leaving us old dears exhausted as ever. GD1 never stops talking, and GD3 is a dab hand at teasing. Yesterday they had fun and games on the swing, etc. in the garden, and today, the family took us out to lunch in honour of the Old Man’s birthday a couple of weeks ago. We chose the Chinese, because the girls like it. They do a buffet lunch and the girls trot backwards and forwards having a bit of this and a bit of that. The ability to leave the table at every conceivable opportunity is the best part for them. Then to the children’s playground near the car park. All well until an injury was sustained, and then lots of tears. Earlier in the day, we watched a ‘fashion parade’ in which GD1 was the main commentator of events, while GD3 did a wiggle along an imaginary cat walk in her fairy dress with wings. GD1 also dressed up in my clothes, which are still sufficiently long on her to qualify as ‘dressing up’.

After recovery time, we needed to address the problem of the leak under the shower. Now that the family have gone and are not due back for a few weeks, M needs to take out the old shower tray and replace it. It’s going to be a horrible job, but as a temporary measure tonight, we took out the old towel wedged underneath and replaced with another one. The towel was covered in earth – that means the dreaded ants are nesting under there again. (They come back every year – flying ants, red ants and ordinary ones.) M got out the industrial vacuum cleaner and cleared up as much of the mess as possible. Then I noticed a leak in the pipe that runs through the broom cupboard (back of shower.) Maybe this has been causing the problem all along and we didn’t need a new shower tray. M deal with that too, and while we were doing horrid jobs, I cleaned the Dyson out too. Not sure bagless vacuum cleaners are all they’re cracked up to be. At least with the old Hoover, I didn’t get covered in dust every time I removed the bag. Not sure I’ll buy another one, when this one goes.

In the brief additional time available, I had a look at my talk on Self Publishing, as I shall be giving a talk in Guildford this week, based on my experience with The Fruit of the Tree, details at my website, http://freespace.virgin.net/jackie.luben. And next weekend is the launch of The Gawain Quest, see the Goldenford site. www.goldenford.co.uk.

I just remembered, after months of puzzling why I was shown as a Gemini, I've discovered you have to put the month first instead of the day. So now I'm a Scorpio.

Home and Away

After making some progress on Tuesday, another day out on Wednesday. M’s aunt wanted him to look at a minor fault on her central heating, but we made it into a social visit. She said she would take us out to lunch to an Italian restaurant, which I thought would be a pasta and pizza type place. But it turned out to be really posh, with a lovely meal and desserts that M & I averted our eyes from. (he’s been told to lose a stone in weight.) Quite a long trip though – to Marlow on the Thames, so I didn’t fit anything else into the day. Oh managed to watch The Apprentice in the evening and the follow up on BBC Two. I really thought Christina should have won, but I could see it was a difficult choice. Christina will almost certainly attract favourable attention to her, in any case. She scored points for not dishing the dirt on Katie, the ‘pantomime villain’ as K described herself. She had only herself to blame, for she certainly made some catty remarks. However, like Christina, I felt sorry for her, particularly as, if Cathy’s blog (http://cwnotebook.blogspot.com/) is correct, she has lost her current job. For anyone not watching The Apprentice, you can carry on reading now.

This evening ten members of the reading circle came to me. I opened up cakes and crisps, but they didn’t consume much of them, so we will be polishing them off no doubt. So much for the diet. We discussed ‘The Emigrants’ and I had to own up to being a lowbrow as far as books are concerned, and liking things with plots. Bit like the stories I write myself, actually. Talking of which, I got a telephone call a couple of days ago, saying that I had been shortlisted in the Frome Festival story competition. Another piece of good news to put on my CV. Tomorrow, another day of catching up before my son and his tribe arrive for the weekend.

Lost babies

M has gone off to my cousin in N. London by train and I’m trying to deal with the paper mountain on my desk. I declined the invitation to go with him and have lunch with my cousin and husband, because I really needed this opportunity to deal with some of the post left over from our holiday. M is hoping to solve a technical problem for them, and I’m always best out of that. In fact I saw my cousin on Sunday at the Diamond Wedding lunch, which was most enjoyable. Unfortunately, M decided to mix business with pleasure then, and we went back from Ilford via Croydon, where he wanted to call in on some restaurants who are installing extraction systems. I can’t tell you how long and boring the journey was. We went via ten thousand traffic lights, and when we eventually stopped at the customer and I tried to read my current Reading Group book (The Emigrants), I found that pretty boring too. (Sorry Mr Sebald – unbroken text, with no interruption for dialogue, or quote marks – however worthy and literary the book is, it’s not for me.) I spent yesterday, tired and stiff from sitting in the car, and generally cross all day.

They are talking a great deal about abortion at the moment, and strong views are held on either side. I find myself very divided on the topic. Although (as I’ve said before) I’m not a died in the wool feminist, for example, I don’t mind the fact that M and I divide our roles in the household along fairly traditional lines, I nevertheless, am sympathetic to the principle that women should have control over their bodies. But when I hear it said that women don’t have abortions lightly – it’s a serious decision – I find it difficult to believe that one can generalise about this. I think for many women, abortion’s there as an option; the option after birth control – or even possibly instead of birth control. I have no right to say this, based on gut feeling, rather than serious research, but I can’t believe that this many abortions would be occurring each year if legal abortion were not a possibility. My judgement is coloured by the fact that I have lost two babies through miscarriage as well as having a cot death. I can remember, when I miscarried, how angry I felt at the lack of funds going into research into miscarriage, and how vocal were the women who wanted the right to abort their babies. At that stage of life, one’s sympathy is tempered with bitterness at the many women who want to lose perfectly healthy babies, when one is desperately trying to have and to keep another child oneself.