Being the last Wednesday of the month, today was a "Hot Pen " day but the members were confronted with a different scenario. Instead of using a random word to write about they were presented with a scene - a pine table and chair and on the table was a stack of paper which had some writing on it along with a pen. Fifteen minutes was allotted to write the piece and as usual the members did not disappoint with various pictures conjured up from a different version of "The Three Bears", a classroom scene in which the teacher was absent, the proposed reading of a will in a solicitor's office to a young man returning to the cottage where his grandfather had lived.
After the break, there was time for a quickfire "hot pen" using the word, "penny". Childhood memories of sweets and family life figured largely with this item and of course the bad penny always showed up.
Ian C
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Tuesday, 28 July 2015
Futurelearn.com
Futurelearn provide many online courses and they are very good and easy to do. They can take time, but weekly hours are indicated and the more time you can devote the greater the payback.
Some members of Stanza Mar Menor have just signed up for WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: POETRY, PEOPLE AND PLACE. This is a course that is run with Lancaster University and the Wordsworth Trust and if previous courses are anything to go by - it should be good. It does not start until 7th September and so there is enough time to read more about him. It is only a few hours a week and is only over four weeks. Why not give it a go?
There is interactive feedback and we can offer our views of colleagues work and comments. I just think that it a very good idea and something that TORREVIEJA Writers Circle can participate in. Okay, I know that you think that it is just about poetry, but there is more in this course than that. If you feel the need to know more about poetry then you will learn and it may influence your future efforts.
John Edwards 28th July, 2015
Thursday, 23 July 2015
Wednesday 22 July
There was a change of programme for today's meeting as we had as a guest speaker, Aoife Leddy, the editor of "Costa Blanca People" (formerly known as "The Coastrider"). Aoife gave us an insight into the running of a newspaper and its trials and tribulations. There was a variety of questions posed to her ranging from her role as editor, the evolution of the newspaper, to the economics of providing a free newspaper in the face of so much competition. During the Q and A session, a number of suggestions were made by members as to what they would like to see in the paper and Aoife said she would take these on board and investigate the possibility of them being included sometime in the future.
After the break there was further discussion on journalistic writing and the general guidelines issued within the newspaper industry. Aoife suggested that, as creative writers, why did we not attempt to write an article on the subject of writing, treat it as a competition which she would judge and the winning entry would be published in a future edition of the newspaper.
The members accepted the challenge with the following guidelines:
Subject "Why Write"
Word Count 500 max
Closing Date 26 August ( To the Chairman)
The chairman would then liaise with her at the beginning of September for publication in either late September or early October. The published article would also include details of the TWC which might attract new members.
Ian C
After the break there was further discussion on journalistic writing and the general guidelines issued within the newspaper industry. Aoife suggested that, as creative writers, why did we not attempt to write an article on the subject of writing, treat it as a competition which she would judge and the winning entry would be published in a future edition of the newspaper.
The members accepted the challenge with the following guidelines:
Subject "Why Write"
Word Count 500 max
Closing Date 26 August ( To the Chairman)
The chairman would then liaise with her at the beginning of September for publication in either late September or early October. The published article would also include details of the TWC which might attract new members.
Ian C
Sunday, 19 July 2015
Shimla, our next destination
Tour Leader job
Shimla
16-18 February
We travelled for a full day by road from Dharamshala, and we were relieved to stretch our legs for a short climb up a hundred or so steps leading to our Shimla hotel. Until we had been climbing for a few minutes, that is, when relief was replaced by exhaustion as the altitude began to get the better of some of us, me included. I was gasping by the time we reached the reception at Clarke’s hotel. The establishment is elegant, and the service impeccable, but the view from our window was truly depressing: a huge shabby concrete building, a crowded road, and vehicles jam-packed into tiny car parks or on the pavement below. We had expected sweeping views of the Himalaya. The rooms were comfortable, but there was no free wifi – shock, horror for some of us – and none of our plugs fitted the hotel sockets. The food and bar drinks were expensive, but the ambience was genteel and the waiters looked very dashing in their long coats and turbans. For around 130 euro per night, it wasn’t a bad deal.
During their rule, the British made this town their summer station, moving lock, stock and barrel by horse and cart, up the mountain road to escape the oppressive heat of Calcutta, and ended up spending more time at this ‘hill station’ at 7,000 feet, than in the sweltering capital.
The small village was discovered by Captain Charles Kennedy in the early 19th century, became popular with the British in the 1830s, and in 1864 became the summer headquarters of the British Government in India. Enticed by its salubrious character, the ladies arrived first, followed by their officer husbands…. and then the parties started. And party they did, entertaining themselves with clandestine affairs in between visits to church and games of cricket and tennis.
We ventured to a vegetarian restaurant where we dined exquisitely on green pea pulao and methi paratha with fresh lime juice for 233 rupees (3.5 euro), and returned to the hotel bar for a glass of wine which cost twice as much as our meal.
Shimla from terrace
Next morning we were driven to the Vice Regal Lodge for a glimpse of past luxury, followed by a leisurely stroll along the famous Mall, where no Indians were once allowed. The Lodge is full of memorabilia and original furniture, and it was easy to picture the formal receptions for visiting dignitaries or royal Indian princes. The signatories to the partition of Bangladesh and Pakistan in 1947 would have mounted the wide stairs, as would those on their way to the ballroom for a lavish party, or to the wood-panelled dining room decorated with coats of arms for a sumptuous feast.
Vice Regal lodge Shimla
As we ambled along The Mall, I tried to picture characters from fictional stories about the British in India: moustachioed colonels accompanied by pale, lace-clad ladies swooning in the heat, and dashing young soldiers in britches, all being duly waited upon by shy and servile turbaned Indians. Passion rising in their muscular chests and heaving breasts, decorum dictating their behaviour at all times. Except occasionally, when the climate clearly became too much, overwhelming their restraint. Apparently a young British woman eloped on horseback with her Indian lover, prompting Kipling to name their meeting place ‘Scandal Corner’.
.
I pondered on the rich and poor divide, which despite so-called progress, seems to be as much in evidence in these days as it was in those. While tourists barter over silk pashminas, skinny young lads run errands, weaving between the more fortunate visitors to the town.
For once we were not obliged to rise early on our second morning, as our short Toy Train ride from Shimla to Solan didn’t start till 10.30. The track was covered in scampering monkeys, and the platform crowded with noisy, boisterous schoolchildren, some of whom kept pestering their mothers to buy them biscuit and cake snacks served from rusty buckets.
We saved our appetite for the second part of our journey, after stopping near Solan for an outdoor picnic lunch of vegetable sandwiches and tonic water at a government run conference centre in the hills. From there we drove to Kalka, where we continued by train to New Delhi. Dinner was served on board, and seemed endless: starter samosa-type snacks, biscuits, dal, rice, spicy tofu, yogurt….and of course, tea, or chai as it is called in India. The carriage was packed; whenever I travel by train in India, it seems the world and his wife are on the move. I often wonder where they’re all going and why.
We travelled for a full day by road from Dharamshala, and we were relieved to stretch our legs for a short climb up a hundred or so steps leading to our Shimla hotel. Until we had been climbing for a few minutes, that is, when relief was replaced by exhaustion as the altitude began to get the better of some of us, me included. I was gasping by the time we reached the reception at Clarke’s hotel. The establishment is elegant, and the service impeccable, but the view from our window was truly depressing: a huge shabby concrete building, a crowded road, and vehicles jam-packed into tiny car parks or on the pavement below. We had expected sweeping views of the Himalaya. The rooms were comfortable, but there was no free wifi – shock, horror for some of us – and none of our plugs fitted the hotel sockets. The food and bar drinks were expensive, but the ambience was genteel and the waiters looked very dashing in their long coats and turbans. For around 130 euro per night, it wasn’t a bad deal.
During their rule, the British made this town their summer station, moving lock, stock and barrel by horse and cart, up the mountain road to escape the oppressive heat of Calcutta, and ended up spending more time at this ‘hill station’ at 7,000 feet, than in the sweltering capital.
The small village was discovered by Captain Charles Kennedy in the early 19th century, became popular with the British in the 1830s, and in 1864 became the summer headquarters of the British Government in India. Enticed by its salubrious character, the ladies arrived first, followed by their officer husbands…. and then the parties started. And party they did, entertaining themselves with clandestine affairs in between visits to church and games of cricket and tennis.
We ventured to a vegetarian restaurant where we dined exquisitely on green pea pulao and methi paratha with fresh lime juice for 233 rupees (3.5 euro), and returned to the hotel bar for a glass of wine which cost twice as much as our meal.
Shimla from terrace
Next morning we were driven to the Vice Regal Lodge for a glimpse of past luxury, followed by a leisurely stroll along the famous Mall, where no Indians were once allowed. The Lodge is full of memorabilia and original furniture, and it was easy to picture the formal receptions for visiting dignitaries or royal Indian princes. The signatories to the partition of Bangladesh and Pakistan in 1947 would have mounted the wide stairs, as would those on their way to the ballroom for a lavish party, or to the wood-panelled dining room decorated with coats of arms for a sumptuous feast.
Vice Regal lodge Shimla
As we ambled along The Mall, I tried to picture characters from fictional stories about the British in India: moustachioed colonels accompanied by pale, lace-clad ladies swooning in the heat, and dashing young soldiers in britches, all being duly waited upon by shy and servile turbaned Indians. Passion rising in their muscular chests and heaving breasts, decorum dictating their behaviour at all times. Except occasionally, when the climate clearly became too much, overwhelming their restraint. Apparently a young British woman eloped on horseback with her Indian lover, prompting Kipling to name their meeting place ‘Scandal Corner’.
. 
I pondered on the rich and poor divide, which despite so-called progress, seems to be as much in evidence in these days as it was in those. While tourists barter over silk pashminas, skinny young lads run errands, weaving between the more fortunate visitors to the town.
For once we were not obliged to rise early on our second morning, as our short Toy Train ride from Shimla to Solan didn’t start till 10.30. The track was covered in scampering monkeys, and the platform crowded with noisy, boisterous schoolchildren, some of whom kept pestering their mothers to buy them biscuit and cake snacks served from rusty buckets.
We saved our appetite for the second part of our journey, after stopping near Solan for an outdoor picnic lunch of vegetable sandwiches and tonic water at a government run conference centre in the hills. From there we drove to Kalka, where we continued by train to New Delhi. Dinner was served on board, and seemed endless: starter samosa-type snacks, biscuits, dal, rice, spicy tofu, yogurt….and of course, tea, or chai as it is called in India. The carriage was packed; whenever I travel by train in India, it seems the world and his wife are on the move. I often wonder where they’re all going and why.
Saturday, 18 July 2015
TORREVIEJA WRITERS GROUP FACE BOOK
There are new items on our Face Book page and it is a way to pass information onwards. If you are not on Face Book you could join this small group.
Third in Mari Hannah's Series of Crime
Mari Hannah with 'Deadly Deceit'
Mari Hannah and 'Deadly Deceit' where on the cover it is said that 'pure evil wears many disguises', and as it unfolds you will know that it does.
This is the third book that I have read following on from the 'Murder Wall' and 'Settled Blood' where her top detectives DCI Kate Daniels and her solid as a rock DS Hank Gormley battle not only with themselves, but the murdering kind as well.
She paints her characters with a vividness that steps off the page into our imagination. I like the way she writes about individual frailties that become exposed within the murder room and in the real world of the street. No one is perfect.
Her books voice our concerns about what we know is out here. The prejudices and discriminations
that hinder the freedom of choice. Kate battles with 'coming out' or staying stum so as not to hinder her possible promotion. I enjoyed the revelations about her sex/love life and the need to remain focused on her work that just gets in the way of emotional satisfaction.
Kate is a super-woman who has the apparent energy of a battalion of lesser people. Here I ask why do writers have to give their heroes more than they should?
I will not say a thing about the plots as you can read the back cover if you care to. Incidents are pulled together and the participants write their own story. There is one occasion where Kate is leaning against the wall at the nick and within a few lines she is opening a back door in a house. What occurred there? There is one other section that also requires a leap of the imagination.
If you want a hero, particularly a female one, then you have one here and there are others that can entice. You will know that it is much less of a perfect world that you may have thought before reading this fast moving novel.
Mari Hannah and 'Deadly Deceit' where on the cover it is said that 'pure evil wears many disguises', and as it unfolds you will know that it does.
This is the third book that I have read following on from the 'Murder Wall' and 'Settled Blood' where her top detectives DCI Kate Daniels and her solid as a rock DS Hank Gormley battle not only with themselves, but the murdering kind as well.
She paints her characters with a vividness that steps off the page into our imagination. I like the way she writes about individual frailties that become exposed within the murder room and in the real world of the street. No one is perfect.
Her books voice our concerns about what we know is out here. The prejudices and discriminations
that hinder the freedom of choice. Kate battles with 'coming out' or staying stum so as not to hinder her possible promotion. I enjoyed the revelations about her sex/love life and the need to remain focused on her work that just gets in the way of emotional satisfaction.
Kate is a super-woman who has the apparent energy of a battalion of lesser people. Here I ask why do writers have to give their heroes more than they should?
I will not say a thing about the plots as you can read the back cover if you care to. Incidents are pulled together and the participants write their own story. There is one occasion where Kate is leaning against the wall at the nick and within a few lines she is opening a back door in a house. What occurred there? There is one other section that also requires a leap of the imagination.
If you want a hero, particularly a female one, then you have one here and there are others that can entice. You will know that it is much less of a perfect world that you may have thought before reading this fast moving novel.
Monday, 13 July 2015
Book Review
The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
First published in 1989 by Macmillan, ISBN 978-0-330-45013-3, 1076 pages long.
A book set in 12th century England it covers the period from 1123 to 1174. For anyone interested in history, particularly medieval history, this book is astonishing in its attention to detail.
In Ken Follett's introduction he admits that this book nearly never got written. He is better known as a "thriller" writer, but this idea was in his head for ten years before he actually started writing it. It began with his fascination of medieval architecture, churches and cathedrals in particular. The way they were built at a time without today's technology, power tools or understanding of modern engineering. They were also poor. Only the rich and powerful rode horses. The rest went by foot. And yet many of those buildings, built nine hundred years ago, still stand today.
Relegion dominated peoples lives and the monasteries were the closest thing to the welfare system. Ken Follett explores the daily lives of both the rich and poor, during times of wealth and famine. Today, politicians and bankers, more or less rule peoples lives. Then, it was the Kings and Bishops, Squires and Earls. Someone who was rich one day, residing in a castle, could, the next, be starving in a prison.
This book contains plenty of violence, including rape, pillage and murder, but it is the love stories, entwined through the generations, which capture. This book is such a page turner, that, despite its length, I read it in a couple of weeks. It is definitely one of my favourite books. At the end of the book we are given the first chapter of his sequel, "World Without End", which I will now be looking out for.
Sue Champion
First published in 1989 by Macmillan, ISBN 978-0-330-45013-3, 1076 pages long.
A book set in 12th century England it covers the period from 1123 to 1174. For anyone interested in history, particularly medieval history, this book is astonishing in its attention to detail.
In Ken Follett's introduction he admits that this book nearly never got written. He is better known as a "thriller" writer, but this idea was in his head for ten years before he actually started writing it. It began with his fascination of medieval architecture, churches and cathedrals in particular. The way they were built at a time without today's technology, power tools or understanding of modern engineering. They were also poor. Only the rich and powerful rode horses. The rest went by foot. And yet many of those buildings, built nine hundred years ago, still stand today.
Relegion dominated peoples lives and the monasteries were the closest thing to the welfare system. Ken Follett explores the daily lives of both the rich and poor, during times of wealth and famine. Today, politicians and bankers, more or less rule peoples lives. Then, it was the Kings and Bishops, Squires and Earls. Someone who was rich one day, residing in a castle, could, the next, be starving in a prison.
This book contains plenty of violence, including rape, pillage and murder, but it is the love stories, entwined through the generations, which capture. This book is such a page turner, that, despite its length, I read it in a couple of weeks. It is definitely one of my favourite books. At the end of the book we are given the first chapter of his sequel, "World Without End", which I will now be looking out for.
Sue Champion
Book Review
The Moment By Douglas Kennedy
This is the storyof a divorced American writer living a very private life in Maine. One winter morning his solitude is disrupted by the arrival of a package postmarked "Berlin". It brings back memories of a former lover and their relationship in a divided Berlin where people lived fearfully under the shadows of the Cold War. She was a refugee from the police state of East Germany and they met through their work.
I found it very different from my usual reading and initially it was riveting but, halfway through, I got a bit confused and found the story hard to follow. It was described as a love story but was also a bit of a thriller.
Ann Braithwaite
This is the storyof a divorced American writer living a very private life in Maine. One winter morning his solitude is disrupted by the arrival of a package postmarked "Berlin". It brings back memories of a former lover and their relationship in a divided Berlin where people lived fearfully under the shadows of the Cold War. She was a refugee from the police state of East Germany and they met through their work.
I found it very different from my usual reading and initially it was riveting but, halfway through, I got a bit confused and found the story hard to follow. It was described as a love story but was also a bit of a thriller.
Ann Braithwaite
TWC Book Review
Light On Snow By Anita Shreve
I've always been a voracious reader and as soon as I finish a book am desperate to find the next. I could say I'll read anything but that isn't true - I'll read (almost) any genre but it has to be well written. I read for entertainment and escapism - and bad grammer and clumsy phrasing distract me from the narrative. My preferred reading is detective fiction, page turners with three dimensional characters and ideally some humour, my favourites being Ian Rankin's John Rebus, Reginald Hill's Andy Dalziel and Harlan Coben's Myron Bolitar.
For the Writer's Circle I've chosen Anita Shreve's Light On Snow because, as writers, you might find the author's technique interesting. I was given this book by a friend who "thought I might like it." In a bookshop the first page would have put me off. First person AND present tense. My two pet hates. So it remained unread for a long time until I was" desperate" for something to read. I liked it enough to get another by the same author!
The story is told by Nicky, a twelve year old girl. On page two we learn she is thirty now (this cleverly explains the capable descriptions) but she was twelve when she and her father found a newborn baby abandoned in deep snow in the forest near their home. We are taken forward in the present tense to the police's slightly aggressive questioning of Nicky's father, and obviously all the characters want to know who is the baby and why was she left to die in the snow.
The author uses the the police interview to inform the reader that Nicky and her father have only been in their isolated house in New England for two years. They came here from New York where he was an architect. So now the reader has two mysteries to ponder. Who is the baby's mother and what is her story and why did Nicky and her father leave the sophistication of New York for the isolation of their rather hick-sounding home in the forest?
Nicky changes into the past tense to drip feed the background story of why she and her father are alone; she describes them as half a family.
This technique works well. As we move from one scene to the next, the reader is in no doubt as to whether we are in the "present" - the mystery surrounding the baby, or in the "past" - as Nicky tells us how she and her father came to be here.
The descriptive prose is beautiful, the characters are realistic and well- drawn. The story is thought provoking. A masterclass in writing.
Andrea Peers
I've always been a voracious reader and as soon as I finish a book am desperate to find the next. I could say I'll read anything but that isn't true - I'll read (almost) any genre but it has to be well written. I read for entertainment and escapism - and bad grammer and clumsy phrasing distract me from the narrative. My preferred reading is detective fiction, page turners with three dimensional characters and ideally some humour, my favourites being Ian Rankin's John Rebus, Reginald Hill's Andy Dalziel and Harlan Coben's Myron Bolitar.
For the Writer's Circle I've chosen Anita Shreve's Light On Snow because, as writers, you might find the author's technique interesting. I was given this book by a friend who "thought I might like it." In a bookshop the first page would have put me off. First person AND present tense. My two pet hates. So it remained unread for a long time until I was" desperate" for something to read. I liked it enough to get another by the same author!
The story is told by Nicky, a twelve year old girl. On page two we learn she is thirty now (this cleverly explains the capable descriptions) but she was twelve when she and her father found a newborn baby abandoned in deep snow in the forest near their home. We are taken forward in the present tense to the police's slightly aggressive questioning of Nicky's father, and obviously all the characters want to know who is the baby and why was she left to die in the snow.
The author uses the the police interview to inform the reader that Nicky and her father have only been in their isolated house in New England for two years. They came here from New York where he was an architect. So now the reader has two mysteries to ponder. Who is the baby's mother and what is her story and why did Nicky and her father leave the sophistication of New York for the isolation of their rather hick-sounding home in the forest?
Nicky changes into the past tense to drip feed the background story of why she and her father are alone; she describes them as half a family.
This technique works well. As we move from one scene to the next, the reader is in no doubt as to whether we are in the "present" - the mystery surrounding the baby, or in the "past" - as Nicky tells us how she and her father came to be here.
The descriptive prose is beautiful, the characters are realistic and well- drawn. The story is thought provoking. A masterclass in writing.
Andrea Peers
Book Review
The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng
Set in the foothills of Malaya in the 1950's, the story centres around Yun Ling and her dedication to creating a memorial to her sister, killed by the Japanese during their occupation of Malaya. Prior to the war, the two girls had toured Japan and admired their style of gardens. Now, Yun Ling wishes to fulfil her promise but she needs help in its design. She seeks out Aritomo, once the favoured gardener of the Emperor of Japan and renowned garden designer. Aritomo refuses to build the memorial but offers the prospect of Yun Ling becoming his apprentice, which she accepts and embarks upon a journey into her past and the secrets of her memory.
This is a novel of love and hate - love of the garden and its creation, hate for the man whose fellow countrymen killed her beloved sister.
This book should be read and then re-read to capture the lush vegetation of Tan Twan Eng's words as he beautifully and evocatively captures the moods of each of the protaginists. The novel is serene and graceful, harsh and cruel, haunting and atmospheric, written so elegantly that it will remain you with long after reading.
Ian C
Set in the foothills of Malaya in the 1950's, the story centres around Yun Ling and her dedication to creating a memorial to her sister, killed by the Japanese during their occupation of Malaya. Prior to the war, the two girls had toured Japan and admired their style of gardens. Now, Yun Ling wishes to fulfil her promise but she needs help in its design. She seeks out Aritomo, once the favoured gardener of the Emperor of Japan and renowned garden designer. Aritomo refuses to build the memorial but offers the prospect of Yun Ling becoming his apprentice, which she accepts and embarks upon a journey into her past and the secrets of her memory.
This is a novel of love and hate - love of the garden and its creation, hate for the man whose fellow countrymen killed her beloved sister.
This book should be read and then re-read to capture the lush vegetation of Tan Twan Eng's words as he beautifully and evocatively captures the moods of each of the protaginists. The novel is serene and graceful, harsh and cruel, haunting and atmospheric, written so elegantly that it will remain you with long after reading.
Ian C
Sunday, 12 July 2015
Erin's Child
Erin's Child by Shelagh Kelleys.
This is the third of four books detailing the lives of the Feeney family in late 19th century York.
Patrick, his wife Thomasin and their descendants are now living in an affluent part of the city in
stark contrast to their life of squalor in the first of the series, A Long Way From Heaven. They have prospered against the odds, but life's tragedies are never far away.
Their daughter, Erin, is widowed after a farming accident, she miscarries her second baby, and her daughter,Belle, has a deformed spine and refuses to speak. She is regarded as mentally subnormal by the less caring, and Erin has to be restrained from being over protective.
It's how the author describes how each character deals with life's ups and downs which make this book a must read.
However it's not all doom and gloom, there is comedy too from Father Liam Kelly and thomasins father, William, a blunt Yorkshire man.
You really care what life has in store for Patrick and his family. He's had to deal with prejudice since arriving in England to escape the Irish potato famine, but he is a decent person to whom family is everything.
Anne Grierson
This is the third of four books detailing the lives of the Feeney family in late 19th century York.
Patrick, his wife Thomasin and their descendants are now living in an affluent part of the city in
stark contrast to their life of squalor in the first of the series, A Long Way From Heaven. They have prospered against the odds, but life's tragedies are never far away.
Their daughter, Erin, is widowed after a farming accident, she miscarries her second baby, and her daughter,Belle, has a deformed spine and refuses to speak. She is regarded as mentally subnormal by the less caring, and Erin has to be restrained from being over protective.
It's how the author describes how each character deals with life's ups and downs which make this book a must read.
However it's not all doom and gloom, there is comedy too from Father Liam Kelly and thomasins father, William, a blunt Yorkshire man.
You really care what life has in store for Patrick and his family. He's had to deal with prejudice since arriving in England to escape the Irish potato famine, but he is a decent person to whom family is everything.
Anne Grierson
Saturday, 11 July 2015
Book review, by Maureen Moss
The
Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, by Rachel Joyce
Why does
such an unlikely story work so well? I found myself asking this question over
and over again as I accompanied Harold on his strange pilgrimage.
What is the book about? In short, a middle aged man sets off to post a letter and ends up walking without money, proper shoes, map, or food, for nearly 90 days, towards a destination over 600 miles away whose exact location he doesn’t even know. His mission: to save a life.
After
several of the early pages wondering where on earth this story was going, I
found myself drawn towards Harold, his wife, and the terminally ill woman he
has decided to visit. Curiosity got the better of me and before long I was
turning pages avidly, needing to know the outcome. Would he make it in time? What
damage had he done to his marriage? What was the mystery surrounding his
estranged son?
Harold is
joined and subsequently deserted by a motley crew of well-wishers and fame
seekers. Even Dog, who had, as Harold said, ‘chosen to walk with Harold for a
while, and then it had chosen to stop, and walk instead with the young girl.
Life was like that.’
Mr Mercedes
Mr Mercedes by Stephen King.
Feeling the need for a change in style, for something different I browsed the book shelves and found in a prime position two books by Stephen King. I flipped through a few pages of Mr Mercedes, liked what I had quickly read and added it to the basket. Previously I had been unable to finish or never even started some of his work. This one I liked from the start. Brady Hartfield is our killing-man and Bill Hodges is our retired detective.
The fly sheet will tell you that Brady drives a Mercedes into a waiting line of the jobless and people die. The killer escapes, but he is no ordinary being. Later he taunts our 'Det-Ret' and the competition gets underway. King puts so much into the building of his characters and his plots are never simple. There are details to absorb and there is suspense in considering who is the next one for the morgue. Along the way he introduces some very unlikely characters who get caught up in the evil and aid the ex-cop to win - of course, but winning does have its own price! I like the way that he does 'flawed people'.
There is even more suspense introduced when Bill needs help from the inside. An ex-cop requiring official help, but not allowing all the truth to be revealed. It just adds to the story.
But what of the ending and how do our solvers-of-crime come out of it. Well, if you read this riveting novel you can come to your conclusions. Enjoy as I have done. Now for King's, 'Revival' apparently it is spectacularly dark and electrifying. It should be good then.
John Edwards
Feeling the need for a change in style, for something different I browsed the book shelves and found in a prime position two books by Stephen King. I flipped through a few pages of Mr Mercedes, liked what I had quickly read and added it to the basket. Previously I had been unable to finish or never even started some of his work. This one I liked from the start. Brady Hartfield is our killing-man and Bill Hodges is our retired detective.
The fly sheet will tell you that Brady drives a Mercedes into a waiting line of the jobless and people die. The killer escapes, but he is no ordinary being. Later he taunts our 'Det-Ret' and the competition gets underway. King puts so much into the building of his characters and his plots are never simple. There are details to absorb and there is suspense in considering who is the next one for the morgue. Along the way he introduces some very unlikely characters who get caught up in the evil and aid the ex-cop to win - of course, but winning does have its own price! I like the way that he does 'flawed people'.
There is even more suspense introduced when Bill needs help from the inside. An ex-cop requiring official help, but not allowing all the truth to be revealed. It just adds to the story.
But what of the ending and how do our solvers-of-crime come out of it. Well, if you read this riveting novel you can come to your conclusions. Enjoy as I have done. Now for King's, 'Revival' apparently it is spectacularly dark and electrifying. It should be good then.
John Edwards
Friday, 10 July 2015
Kathy's Summer Poem
Summer
"Father - what colour is the world?"
"Oh my son - such a question - what colour is the world?"
"Let me think - a difficult question! I have never thought of a colour for the world".
"Listen - I would say the world changes - it has different colours:
In autumn it is ochre, brown and dark red,
In winter it is white and blue and grey,
In spring it is green
But summer does really show the world in all colours, it is an endless rainbow:
Fugacious like all beauty,
Yellow like the abacinating sun,
Red like the hot fire and love,
Blue like the endless oceans,
Lilac like warm passion,
Green like everlasting hope.
Do you see the colours of the world now?"
Kathrein Humbel-Bolz
"Father - what colour is the world?"
"Oh my son - such a question - what colour is the world?"
"Let me think - a difficult question! I have never thought of a colour for the world".
"Listen - I would say the world changes - it has different colours:
In autumn it is ochre, brown and dark red,
In winter it is white and blue and grey,
In spring it is green
But summer does really show the world in all colours, it is an endless rainbow:
Fugacious like all beauty,
Yellow like the abacinating sun,
Red like the hot fire and love,
Blue like the endless oceans,
Lilac like warm passion,
Green like everlasting hope.
Do you see the colours of the world now?"
Kathrein Humbel-Bolz
"Summer" Blogspot
The Summer ( after Wild Mountain Thyme)
O the summer time has come
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the foul mouthed British tourists
Are in Spain regurgitating
Will ye throw up Geordie tyke?
And you'll all throw up together
With ten pints of San Miguel
And a bucket of rioja
Will you throw up laddie, throw?
Will ye throw up Essex tart?
With your skin of ruddy lobster
Down another ten sambuccas
And a litre of sangria
Will ye throw up lassie,throw?
Will ye throw up Glasgow git?
Drams here are so much bigger
The more you drink the more you save
The sooner you yawn in technicolour
Will you throw up laddie, throw?
John Dodd
O the summer time has come
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the foul mouthed British tourists
Are in Spain regurgitating
Will ye throw up Geordie tyke?
And you'll all throw up together
With ten pints of San Miguel
And a bucket of rioja
Will you throw up laddie, throw?
Will ye throw up Essex tart?
With your skin of ruddy lobster
Down another ten sambuccas
And a litre of sangria
Will ye throw up lassie,throw?
Will ye throw up Glasgow git?
Drams here are so much bigger
The more you drink the more you save
The sooner you yawn in technicolour
Will you throw up laddie, throw?
John Dodd
For feedback please
http://www.tourguidecourse.com/?p=867&preview=true
Tour Leader job
Tour Leader job
Shimla
16-18 February
After a full day journey by road from Dharamshala, we were relieved to stretch our legs for a short climb up a hundred or so steps leading to our Shimla hotel. Until we had been climbing for a few minutes, that is, when relief was replaced by exhaustion as the altitude began to get the better of some of us, me included. I was gasping by the time we reached the reception at Clarke’s hotel. The hotel is nothing if not elegant, and the service impeccable, but the view from our window was truly depressing: a huge shabby concrete building, a crowded road, and cars jam-packed into tiny car parks or on the pavement below. We had expected sweeping views of the Himalaya. The rooms were comfortable, but there was no free wifi – shock, horror for some of us – and none of our plugs fitted the hotel sockets. The food and bar drinks were expensive, but the ambience was genteel and the waiters looked very dashing in their long coats and turbans. For around 130 euro per night, it wasn’t a bad deal.
During their rule, the British made this town their summer station, moving lock, stock and barrel by horse and cart, up the mountain road to escape the oppressive heat of Calcutta, and ended up spending more time at this ‘hill station’ at 7,000 feet, than in the sweltering capital.
The small village was discovered by Captain Charles Kennedy in the early 19th century, became popular with the British in the 1830s, and in 1864 became the summer headquarters of the British Government in India. Enticed by its salubrious character, the ladies arrived first, followed by their officer husbands…. and then the parties started. And party they did, entertaining themselves with clandestine affairs in between visits to church and games of cricket and tennis. We ventured to a vegetarian restaurant where we dined exquisitely on green pea pulao and methi paratha with fresh lime juice for 233 rupees (3.5 euro), and returned to the hotel bar for a glass of wine which cost twice as much as our meal.
Shimla from terrace
Next morning we were driven to the Vice Regal Lodge for a glimpse of past luxury, followed by a leisurely stroll along the famous Mall, where no Indians were once allowed. The Lodge is full of memorabilia and original furniture, and it was easy to picture the formal receptions for visiting dignitaries or royal Indian princes. The signatories to the partition of Bangladesh and Pakistan in 1947 would have mounted the wide stairs, as would those on their way to the ballroom for a lavish party, or to the wood-panelled dining room decorated with coats of arms for a sumptuous feast.
As we ambled along The Mall, I tried to picture characters from fictional stories about the British in India: moustachioed colonels accompanied by pale, lace-clad ladies swooning in the heat, and dashing young soldiers in britches, all being duly waited upon by shy and servile turbaned Indians. Passion rising in their muscular chests and heaving breasts, decorum dictating their behaviour at all times. Except occasionally, when the climate clearly became too much, overwhelming their restraint. Apparently a young British woman eloped on horseback with her Indian lover, prompting Kipling to name their meeting place ‘Scandal Corner’.
.
I pondered on the rich and poor divide, which despite so-called progress, seems to be as much in evidence in these days as it was in those. While tourists barter over silk pashminas, skinny young lads run errands, weaving between the more fortunate visitors to the town.
Vice Regal lodge Shimla
For once we were not obliged to rise early on our second morning, as our short Toy Train ride from Shimla to Solan didn’t start till 10.30. The track was covered in scampering monkeys, and the platform crowded with noisy, boisterous schoolchildren, some of whom kept pestering their mothers to buy them biscuit and cake snacks served from rusty buckets.
We saved our appetite for the second part of our journey, after stopping near Solan for an outdoor picnic lunch of vegetable sandwiches and tonic water at a government run conference centre in the hills. From there we drove to Kalka, where we continued by train to New Delhi. Dinner was served on board, and seemed endless: starter samosa-type snacks, biscuits, dal, rice, spicy tofu, yogurt….and of course, tea, or chai as it is called in India. The carriage was packed; whenever I travel by train in India, it seems the world and his wife are on the move. I often wonder where they’re all going and why.
Thank you! Maureen
After a full day journey by road from Dharamshala, we were relieved to stretch our legs for a short climb up a hundred or so steps leading to our Shimla hotel. Until we had been climbing for a few minutes, that is, when relief was replaced by exhaustion as the altitude began to get the better of some of us, me included. I was gasping by the time we reached the reception at Clarke’s hotel. The hotel is nothing if not elegant, and the service impeccable, but the view from our window was truly depressing: a huge shabby concrete building, a crowded road, and cars jam-packed into tiny car parks or on the pavement below. We had expected sweeping views of the Himalaya. The rooms were comfortable, but there was no free wifi – shock, horror for some of us – and none of our plugs fitted the hotel sockets. The food and bar drinks were expensive, but the ambience was genteel and the waiters looked very dashing in their long coats and turbans. For around 130 euro per night, it wasn’t a bad deal.
During their rule, the British made this town their summer station, moving lock, stock and barrel by horse and cart, up the mountain road to escape the oppressive heat of Calcutta, and ended up spending more time at this ‘hill station’ at 7,000 feet, than in the sweltering capital.
The small village was discovered by Captain Charles Kennedy in the early 19th century, became popular with the British in the 1830s, and in 1864 became the summer headquarters of the British Government in India. Enticed by its salubrious character, the ladies arrived first, followed by their officer husbands…. and then the parties started. And party they did, entertaining themselves with clandestine affairs in between visits to church and games of cricket and tennis. We ventured to a vegetarian restaurant where we dined exquisitely on green pea pulao and methi paratha with fresh lime juice for 233 rupees (3.5 euro), and returned to the hotel bar for a glass of wine which cost twice as much as our meal.
Shimla from terrace
Next morning we were driven to the Vice Regal Lodge for a glimpse of past luxury, followed by a leisurely stroll along the famous Mall, where no Indians were once allowed. The Lodge is full of memorabilia and original furniture, and it was easy to picture the formal receptions for visiting dignitaries or royal Indian princes. The signatories to the partition of Bangladesh and Pakistan in 1947 would have mounted the wide stairs, as would those on their way to the ballroom for a lavish party, or to the wood-panelled dining room decorated with coats of arms for a sumptuous feast.
As we ambled along The Mall, I tried to picture characters from fictional stories about the British in India: moustachioed colonels accompanied by pale, lace-clad ladies swooning in the heat, and dashing young soldiers in britches, all being duly waited upon by shy and servile turbaned Indians. Passion rising in their muscular chests and heaving breasts, decorum dictating their behaviour at all times. Except occasionally, when the climate clearly became too much, overwhelming their restraint. Apparently a young British woman eloped on horseback with her Indian lover, prompting Kipling to name their meeting place ‘Scandal Corner’.
. I pondered on the rich and poor divide, which despite so-called progress, seems to be as much in evidence in these days as it was in those. While tourists barter over silk pashminas, skinny young lads run errands, weaving between the more fortunate visitors to the town.
Vice Regal lodge Shimla
For once we were not obliged to rise early on our second morning, as our short Toy Train ride from Shimla to Solan didn’t start till 10.30. The track was covered in scampering monkeys, and the platform crowded with noisy, boisterous schoolchildren, some of whom kept pestering their mothers to buy them biscuit and cake snacks served from rusty buckets.
We saved our appetite for the second part of our journey, after stopping near Solan for an outdoor picnic lunch of vegetable sandwiches and tonic water at a government run conference centre in the hills. From there we drove to Kalka, where we continued by train to New Delhi. Dinner was served on board, and seemed endless: starter samosa-type snacks, biscuits, dal, rice, spicy tofu, yogurt….and of course, tea, or chai as it is called in India. The carriage was packed; whenever I travel by train in India, it seems the world and his wife are on the move. I often wonder where they’re all going and why.
Thank you! Maureen
Thursday, 9 July 2015
A Poem (for feedback)
ANTI-AUSTERITY DEMONSTRATION,
WHITEHALL, JUNE 20th
On the eve of the Solstice
they felt a need
to protect the Cenotaph,
to block images and memories
of 'The Glorious Dead'.
Those that gave us freedom
now have to hide behind cheap boards
while others scream, blow whistles,
waggle placards over heads,
blaming the blue Tory band.
Cosseted fresh faces, hair immaculate,
supported by Jimmy Choo,
designer jeans and consumer
rhetoric to forget the past,
and the idea of value.
Spend what can be borrowed.
To hell with restraint or constraint.
Consume. Consume. Presume
it will be alright in the end and
the deficit will simply disappear.
Oh no it won't! The political divide
pulls two ways. Red in opposition
to t'other way. It's the way it is
as people die in our darkening world
when the sun comes up at 4.52am
21st June, 2015 John Edwards (C)
NB. Written for the day and not for
later events. The only ISIL connection
is probably the term 'darkening world'.
Obviously since then we have had the
Tunisian killings on Friday 26th June.
WHITEHALL, JUNE 20th
On the eve of the Solstice
they felt a need
to protect the Cenotaph,
to block images and memories
of 'The Glorious Dead'.
Those that gave us freedom
now have to hide behind cheap boards
while others scream, blow whistles,
waggle placards over heads,
blaming the blue Tory band.
Cosseted fresh faces, hair immaculate,
supported by Jimmy Choo,
designer jeans and consumer
rhetoric to forget the past,
and the idea of value.
Spend what can be borrowed.
To hell with restraint or constraint.
Consume. Consume. Presume
it will be alright in the end and
the deficit will simply disappear.
Oh no it won't! The political divide
pulls two ways. Red in opposition
to t'other way. It's the way it is
as people die in our darkening world
when the sun comes up at 4.52am
21st June, 2015 John Edwards (C)
NB. Written for the day and not for
later events. The only ISIL connection
is probably the term 'darkening world'.
Obviously since then we have had the
Tunisian killings on Friday 26th June.
Exhibition in Guardamar
Here is the information about the exhibition I mentioned at our meeting. I got the venue wrong; it isn't at the Tourist Office. I'll try to recce it before our next meeting
Maureen
The Lagoon of La Mata has always been linked to the civilisations that settled at the mouth of the River Segura. At least since the 1st century B.C. It is known that salt was extracted by the Romans.
King Alfonso X “The Wise” granted privileges for the consumption of salt in the 13th century and in the 14th century it was used as plunder during the War of the Two Pedros, “The Cruel” king of Castilla and “the Ceremonious” king of Aragón.
The Catholic Kings, Felipe II and successive Spanish monarchs used the exploitation of salt to finance themselves by renting it to private individuals.
The exhibition is open from May until December 2015 in the temporary exhibitions room of the MAG (Guardamar Archaeology Museum) at Calle Colón, 60.
It is open Tuesday-Saturday 11am-2:30pm and 6pm-9:30pm in summer and 10:30am-2:30pm and 5:30pm-8:30pm in winter and is closed on Sundays and Mondays.
Entry to the whole museum costs just €1 and guided tours are €3 each for groups of at least 10 people if booked by calling 96 572 4488 or 96 572 8610.
Maureen
The Lagoon of La Mata has always been linked to the civilisations that settled at the mouth of the River Segura. At least since the 1st century B.C. It is known that salt was extracted by the Romans.
King Alfonso X “The Wise” granted privileges for the consumption of salt in the 13th century and in the 14th century it was used as plunder during the War of the Two Pedros, “The Cruel” king of Castilla and “the Ceremonious” king of Aragón.
The Catholic Kings, Felipe II and successive Spanish monarchs used the exploitation of salt to finance themselves by renting it to private individuals.
The exhibition is open from May until December 2015 in the temporary exhibitions room of the MAG (Guardamar Archaeology Museum) at Calle Colón, 60.
It is open Tuesday-Saturday 11am-2:30pm and 6pm-9:30pm in summer and 10:30am-2:30pm and 5:30pm-8:30pm in winter and is closed on Sundays and Mondays.
Entry to the whole museum costs just €1 and guided tours are €3 each for groups of at least 10 people if booked by calling 96 572 4488 or 96 572 8610.
Writing Thought for July
Do not put off starting to write because you don't have the ideal writing space. All you really need to write is a piece of paper and a pen !!!
Ian C
Ian C
Wednesday, 8 July 2015
A Book List (sort of !)
WHAT I LIKE TO READ
The on-going challenge of reading excellent writing, locating new authors, finding inspiration for my own scribblings and making new friends and meeting people is what drives my book list.
This time last year I was in Ledbury for their Poetry Festival and amongst those 10 days I unearthed a gem. I had signed up for an-all-night-poetry event at Hellens Manor, Much Marcle, but in the evening there were two separate events with one entitled At Maldon. The story starts with an event in the year 991 when a rag-tag army of local Anglo-Saxons faced a marauding army of Vikings. J.O Morgan, the author, takes a piece of old writing where the beginning and ending had been 'mislaid' and adds his understanding to what could have been said. He made it so rhythmical, alliterative and sound so true as though he had been there all those years ago. And he recited it, all sixty pages! (ISBN 978-0-957-3266-5-1)
Following on from Ledbury was the Harrogate Crime Writers Festival and where you can indulge yourself in the world of crime books and rub shoulders with the writers and publishers. Here we encountered Mari Hannah and her four published books, The Murder Wall, Settled Blood, Deadly Deceit, and Monument to Murder. If you enjoy English crime stories then these are a 'must read' and to add to the list there is Killing for Keeps also.
I could include many other authors that I have met at Harrogate. Writers that I have bought their books, read, enjoyed and reviewed in my blog. (http://spanishjohnedwards-je.blogspot.com.) I had the pleasure of meeting J K Rowling and her crime stories written under the name of Robert Galbraith. Again stories set in England and to be enjoyed.
In January we were browsing in a book shop on Sanibel Island, Florida when I saw a book written by Jonathan Hayes. His first book, A Hard Death, involving cruelty, torture, sex of course, and plenty of deaths which was all set in the Everglades Natural Park. I think that it is an added extra to be able to have some personal knowledge or an idea, or at least, of the location or locations that are included in any story. For me, it seems to add to the enjoyment. I have reviewed all of the above books and they are all on my blog.
I also read more serious 'stuff' and this has included some of the stories in The Dubliners by James Joyce and I have dabbled in several others of similar ilk. Currently I am reading (slowly) The Rainbow by D H Lawrence and interspersed with small chunks of a factual account of the efforts of the Maquisands on the Vercors plateau (near Grenoble) attempting to resist the German occupiers from a book entitled The Cruel Victory by Paddy Ashdown.
History fascinates me and so with serious historical accounts I read a novel during the time of that reading. This was not the case with Hilary Mantel's two books Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies that demanded all of my attention, but worth it.
Recently I have read Mr Mercedes by Stephen King upon which I will write a review for my blog and I still have his later book The Revival to read next.
Having just returned from England The Sunday Times has given me some more to add to my list. There are diverse writings such as Medieval Graffiti by Dan Jones, Under Storms Wing which is about the love of Helen Thomas and her husband and prolific writer Edward Thomas, Closet Queens: Some 20th Century British Politicians by Michael Bloch and The Last English Poachers by Bob & Brian Tovey. It seems endless this list and if I add in my research on Herefordshire Gypsies then the list is bound to grow even more.
I also read wildlife magazines and those written on the environment and of course poems of friends and published authors.
John Edwards July 2015.
The on-going challenge of reading excellent writing, locating new authors, finding inspiration for my own scribblings and making new friends and meeting people is what drives my book list.
This time last year I was in Ledbury for their Poetry Festival and amongst those 10 days I unearthed a gem. I had signed up for an-all-night-poetry event at Hellens Manor, Much Marcle, but in the evening there were two separate events with one entitled At Maldon. The story starts with an event in the year 991 when a rag-tag army of local Anglo-Saxons faced a marauding army of Vikings. J.O Morgan, the author, takes a piece of old writing where the beginning and ending had been 'mislaid' and adds his understanding to what could have been said. He made it so rhythmical, alliterative and sound so true as though he had been there all those years ago. And he recited it, all sixty pages! (ISBN 978-0-957-3266-5-1)
Following on from Ledbury was the Harrogate Crime Writers Festival and where you can indulge yourself in the world of crime books and rub shoulders with the writers and publishers. Here we encountered Mari Hannah and her four published books, The Murder Wall, Settled Blood, Deadly Deceit, and Monument to Murder. If you enjoy English crime stories then these are a 'must read' and to add to the list there is Killing for Keeps also.
I could include many other authors that I have met at Harrogate. Writers that I have bought their books, read, enjoyed and reviewed in my blog. (http://spanishjohnedwards-je.blogspot.com.) I had the pleasure of meeting J K Rowling and her crime stories written under the name of Robert Galbraith. Again stories set in England and to be enjoyed.
In January we were browsing in a book shop on Sanibel Island, Florida when I saw a book written by Jonathan Hayes. His first book, A Hard Death, involving cruelty, torture, sex of course, and plenty of deaths which was all set in the Everglades Natural Park. I think that it is an added extra to be able to have some personal knowledge or an idea, or at least, of the location or locations that are included in any story. For me, it seems to add to the enjoyment. I have reviewed all of the above books and they are all on my blog.
I also read more serious 'stuff' and this has included some of the stories in The Dubliners by James Joyce and I have dabbled in several others of similar ilk. Currently I am reading (slowly) The Rainbow by D H Lawrence and interspersed with small chunks of a factual account of the efforts of the Maquisands on the Vercors plateau (near Grenoble) attempting to resist the German occupiers from a book entitled The Cruel Victory by Paddy Ashdown.
History fascinates me and so with serious historical accounts I read a novel during the time of that reading. This was not the case with Hilary Mantel's two books Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies that demanded all of my attention, but worth it.
Recently I have read Mr Mercedes by Stephen King upon which I will write a review for my blog and I still have his later book The Revival to read next.
Having just returned from England The Sunday Times has given me some more to add to my list. There are diverse writings such as Medieval Graffiti by Dan Jones, Under Storms Wing which is about the love of Helen Thomas and her husband and prolific writer Edward Thomas, Closet Queens: Some 20th Century British Politicians by Michael Bloch and The Last English Poachers by Bob & Brian Tovey. It seems endless this list and if I add in my research on Herefordshire Gypsies then the list is bound to grow even more.
I also read wildlife magazines and those written on the environment and of course poems of friends and published authors.
John Edwards July 2015.
"Why?"
The full question posed was, "Why are you a writer?" The group were asked to individually provide a written answer that we could all discuss. Strangely enough most of the answers centred around our love of words and their use to tell a story or paint a picture. Discussion took place on how each of us welcomed feedback as that was one of the ways to improve our work and develop ideas. I found the discussion quite invigorating and was pleased to see that the majority in attendance participated putting forward opinion and counter opinion. May such feedback continue over the coming weeks and months.
I am looking forward to next week's contributions of a "book review" as this will give an indication of what everyone's reading material is as well as possibly introduce new authors to the group.
Ian C
I am looking forward to next week's contributions of a "book review" as this will give an indication of what everyone's reading material is as well as possibly introduce new authors to the group.
Ian C
(Another) Summer
SUMMER (On the theme of)
What clues will tell when summer’s here?
My calendar tells the time of year
Thermometer rises day by day
Flies and mossies won’t stay away
But more than these the traffic shows
Visitors arriving in their droves
Tourists spill onto the beaches
Market traders prepare their speeches
They flock here to enjoy the sun
Fill the bars with noisy fun
Then complain it’s much too hot
How they burnt last year, they have forgot
Bring it on, enjoy the boom
Summer will be over soon
They’re heading home to autumn rain
And we’ll regain our roads again.
Susan Champion 17th June
What clues will tell when summer’s here?
My calendar tells the time of year
Thermometer rises day by day
Flies and mossies won’t stay away
But more than these the traffic shows
Visitors arriving in their droves
Tourists spill onto the beaches
Market traders prepare their speeches
They flock here to enjoy the sun
Fill the bars with noisy fun
Then complain it’s much too hot
How they burnt last year, they have forgot
Bring it on, enjoy the boom
Summer will be over soon
They’re heading home to autumn rain
And we’ll regain our roads again.
Susan Champion 17th June
Beyond Belief
On the theme of Beyond Belief
I watched some ants on their migration
I saw order, discipline and co-operation
Where were they headed, and where had they been?
One purpose, to build a new home for their queen
Some carried loads, much bigger than they
I spied a grasshopper corpse – their trophy prey
So large, required a regiment flow
Bearing it high, a moving plateau
All were marching at racing pace
And along the column, sentries in place
If I stepped in the path, I would cause pandemonium
But I just watched, enthralled in admiration
When God looks down on his creation
Do we look like ants on our migration?
Except that we want to do our own thing
No reverence for our God and King
So for God to come down to us on Earth
Would be like man an ant become, by birth
And yet, He humbled Himself, just to show His love
Appeared as a human from His heaven above
We cannot imagine the sacrifice
He was willing to make to save one life
That He suffered all that pain and grief
is practically just beyond belief.
Susan Champion 10th June
I watched some ants on their migration
I saw order, discipline and co-operation
Where were they headed, and where had they been?
One purpose, to build a new home for their queen
Some carried loads, much bigger than they
I spied a grasshopper corpse – their trophy prey
So large, required a regiment flow
Bearing it high, a moving plateau
All were marching at racing pace
And along the column, sentries in place
If I stepped in the path, I would cause pandemonium
But I just watched, enthralled in admiration
When God looks down on his creation
Do we look like ants on our migration?
Except that we want to do our own thing
No reverence for our God and King
So for God to come down to us on Earth
Would be like man an ant become, by birth
And yet, He humbled Himself, just to show His love
Appeared as a human from His heaven above
We cannot imagine the sacrifice
He was willing to make to save one life
That He suffered all that pain and grief
is practically just beyond belief.
Susan Champion 10th June
Summer
Spain, twenty first of June, it's summertime
temperature starts at twenty nine point nine
and still rising, so I walk by the sea while it's cool,
I see heat haze shimmer hot. The sun is cruel.
Shade is at a premium, don't want to bask.
I sit, ask for a small beer from the cask.
I take a long draught and squint at the sky
and think to myself how lucky am I.
Margaret Rowland
Sorry it's so late. Not one of my best, but somehow captures the mood of the day. Any coments would be much appreciated. I am away for 6 or 7 weeks now, but will be blogging and putting stuff on our facebok page. Any comments on work I put on is much appreciated. From this mornings discussion, I think it wasn't said but we, I think, all value the comments that people make. I like opinion and think that I can take suggestions and comments in the frame of mind they are given. Equally I like to be frank, but not offensive I enjoyed todays discussion. We all have the ability to write and comment. Let's do it. Thank you Ian for the opportunity. I will shut up now!
temperature starts at twenty nine point nine
and still rising, so I walk by the sea while it's cool,
I see heat haze shimmer hot. The sun is cruel.
Shade is at a premium, don't want to bask.
I sit, ask for a small beer from the cask.
I take a long draught and squint at the sky
and think to myself how lucky am I.
Margaret Rowland
Sorry it's so late. Not one of my best, but somehow captures the mood of the day. Any coments would be much appreciated. I am away for 6 or 7 weeks now, but will be blogging and putting stuff on our facebok page. Any comments on work I put on is much appreciated. From this mornings discussion, I think it wasn't said but we, I think, all value the comments that people make. I like opinion and think that I can take suggestions and comments in the frame of mind they are given. Equally I like to be frank, but not offensive I enjoyed todays discussion. We all have the ability to write and comment. Let's do it. Thank you Ian for the opportunity. I will shut up now!
Friday, 3 July 2015
I seem to remember we said we would share the titles of books we've read recently that we really liked.
Here's my list for the last few months:
* really special
Maureen Moss
Here's my list for the last few months:
The Art of Racing in the Rain – Garth Stein
Life After Life – Kate Atkinson
Gravity – Tess Gerritson
The Goldfinch* – Donna Tartt
It's Not Rocket Science – Ben Miller
The Time in Between – Maria Dueñas
Waiting for Sunrise – William Boyd
The Rosie Project – Graeme C Simson
The Thread – Victoria Hislop
Cutting for Stone* – Abraham Vergese
A Long Way Down – Nick Hornby
The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry – Rachel Joyce
Wednesday, 1 July 2015
A 'Hot Pen' Morning
One more Wednesday morning at The Olympia Restaurant, Mil Palmeras saw the writers of TORREVIEJA WRITERS GROUP members make their offerings on the theme of 'Fate'. Of the seventeen members only nine read on this, it seems, not so popular subject. I declined on the meagre grounds of 'I didn't want to write' on it. I felt that it was a subdued gathering and all being well the heat of this Spanish summer will not suppress inspiration and the need to write on future occasions.
It is important to put the morning into perspective and say that there is always some golden words to be found. We had time in the second half for 'a hot pen'. The intention is simply to put people 'on-the-spot' and bloody well write something because this is a writing group.
One or two of us agreed to put our words, with only a minimum of time and thought, as a story or poem on the given word of 'jewel' on the blog. I was amazed how some wrote so easily with rhyme, although not all.
Here is my effort - Barry Jewel
'It's an odd name to have. I remember him, not as clearly, as I would have liked. Yes, Barry Jewel at seventeen or eighteen so, with black wiry hair, a squarish face, large dark eyes that could have hinted at his character.
I can visualize him now, the memory is coming back. A being with not a nice face, in fact, ugly. He never made it. No one liked him and that is why he never did make it.
They said that he put his head on the line, perhaps, when the tracks began to tremble and sing.
The curve of the line and the Permanent Way workers hut his body from view.
The driver could do nothing to stop the waste of another young life.
A headstone records the bare details.'
John Edwards
It is important to put the morning into perspective and say that there is always some golden words to be found. We had time in the second half for 'a hot pen'. The intention is simply to put people 'on-the-spot' and bloody well write something because this is a writing group.
One or two of us agreed to put our words, with only a minimum of time and thought, as a story or poem on the given word of 'jewel' on the blog. I was amazed how some wrote so easily with rhyme, although not all.
Here is my effort - Barry Jewel
'It's an odd name to have. I remember him, not as clearly, as I would have liked. Yes, Barry Jewel at seventeen or eighteen so, with black wiry hair, a squarish face, large dark eyes that could have hinted at his character.
I can visualize him now, the memory is coming back. A being with not a nice face, in fact, ugly. He never made it. No one liked him and that is why he never did make it.
They said that he put his head on the line, perhaps, when the tracks began to tremble and sing.
The curve of the line and the Permanent Way workers hut his body from view.
The driver could do nothing to stop the waste of another young life.
A headstone records the bare details.'
John Edwards
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