Tag Archives: Books

I got it!

I have been in the waiting room for the past few days. Yes. I was waiting for my copy of Letters for my Little Sister to pop through my door.

Letters for my Little Sister

Letters for my Little Sister

I knew it was on the way. Each day there was news from The Fellowship’ of the Farmy, that readers and contributors had received their books. They were actually holding a copy in their hot little hands.

I write as I speak. My contribution is my story, in my words. Simple words.

Mine was an instant response, I wanted to write it before I changed my mind. Once begun, my fingers would not stop. I wanted to share. To let other women know they were not alone, what was happening to them, had happened to other women. Just as there are no text book bodies, there are no text book/alarm clock menopauses. Each is unique, but there are similarities in the symptoms.

As I waited, I worried: Did I ramble rubbishingly with unnecessary detail? Then I consoled myself…

IF IT HELPS JUST ONE WOMAN, THEN IT WILL HAVE BEEN WORTHWHILE!

There are 68 contributions, no, strike that, there are SIXTY NINE contributions altogether. Number sixty nine comes in two parts – the opening and closing of this wonderful book. No better way to begin and end than with the words of Cecilia B W Gunther, the inspiration behind the project. A project to share personal stories about a hidden and sometimes forbidden topic: The Menopause.

Tales long and short in poetry and prose, from all corners of the globe, with just one aim: To help our sisters, cousins, aunts, nieces and granddaughters. This book will have you laughing one minute and close to tears in the next, so tissues at the ready….

Letters for my Little Sister is available on Amazon.com go check out the reviews, you know you want to.

Cecilia Buyswheeler Gunther, originally from New Zealand, is now married to an American living on the prairies of Illinois, USA. She spends her life writing and managing her own sustainable farm, She is the founder and writer/photographer for the blog The Kitchen’s Garden. We the contributors, are part of a band of regular readers who comment on the blog.

Now all I need to do is deliver the other copies to my little sister and to Elly, my daughter.

Selling your book?

In Business, is a weekly programme of thirty minutes duration, on BBC Radio 4, produced by Kent DePinto and presented by Peter Day. This weeks programme was broadcast on Thursday 17 April 2014, with a repeat tomorrow, Sunday 20 April 2014 at 21:30 hrs. The topic for this week: Has the book a future?

The scene was the London Book Fair where Peter Day asked the question:

Can books survive, and if so, how?

The group of people proving answers were:

  • Philip Jones, Editor, The Bookseller
  • Tom Weldon, Chief Executive, Penguin Random House UK
  • Jon Fine, Director of Author and Publisher Relations at Amazon.
  • Jonny Geller, Joint CEO, Curtis Brown Literary and Talent Agency
  • C. J. Daugherty, Author, The Night School series
  • Nigel Newton, Co-founder and Chief Executive, Bloomsbury Publishing
  • James Daunt, Managing Director, Waterstones
  • Dan Kieran, Co-founder and CEO, Unbound

I found this weeks topic very interesting for several reasons.

To begin with, I want to divert you on a short tangent.

Over the years of my blogging life, I have written some blog posts in story form, normally picturing just one commenter sitting in front of me, and typing my tale as if speaking just to them. Somehow it works. The comments have been kind, some suggesting I join a writer’s group, others saying I should write a book. All very flattering. To me they may be stories, some might prefer to call them micro blog posts, while others will see them as drivel. Such is life.

800 words is not a book!

Some weeks back, I tried an experiment: A story that began life with an actual event. I was involved very much in the peripheral background, but actually only met two of the minor players, all I knew about the main participants was second hand and short in detail. Over a glass of wine one evening, I decided it was the kernel of an idea for a story, so I let my imagination take over and thus began:- The End is never the End

  1. Part one contained 1,668 words – Not a book.
  2. Part Two dried up after 800 words.
  3. Parts 3&4 and the as yet unpublished Part 5 are back on par with the first attempt.
  4. Total word count so far: 7,007. Still not a book. At this rate it might take until my dying day to finish it.

Back to the programme and I will mention just a couple of points.
Every week on Amazon, of the top 100 digital books, twenty one are self published. In the USA it is 30 and in India, it is 20%.

James Daunt, Managing Director, Waterstones said that pricing was important, depending on where you are. In a mass market shopping mall selling ordinary fiction of the John Grisham genre, they needed a really good offer, because the supermarkets are fighting for the same customers at greatly reduced prices.

C. J. Daugherty, Author of The Night School series, spoke of earning €17 per book in Germany, €18 in France and between £2.99- £5.99 in the UK. £2.99 for a book that she spent six months writing and four months editing? There would not be many parsnips buttered with that!

Now for the shocker: Huge amounts of the piled up best sellers are sent back to the publishers for pulping. Two and a half years ago, in January, Waterstones sent back £120 million worth of books not sold – FOR PULPING! This year it was down to £7 million. They are working on bringing that figure down to between 10 and 5%.

With the modern digital means of printing, it is possible to publish on a Monday and sell one million books to someone in Africa on Tuesday – if, and it is a big IF, you get your marketing right.

So, I’ll stick with my hobby and not worry about all that stress for a couple of pennies.

READ, WRITE AND DON’T DAYDREAM!

Some people stack books widely in haphazard fashion beside their beds with volumes they would like to find time to read, while others spend time daydreaming of the best way to store and display their prize volumes of the printed word.

The heading above is fifth of ten points, that PD James offered by way of advice for would-be writers, in an interview with Alison Feeney-Hart for the BBC.

She suggests that people should read widely.
Now, I have been known to do just that – read very widely that is!

1/7 reproduction of the Bayeux Tapestry, an historical record created in 11th century, it is the only masterpiece of its kind in the world. An embroidery on a linen cloth using wools of various colours, it is over 70 metres long and 50 centimetres high and retraces the history of the conquest of England by William the Conqueror.

+o+o+o+

Since my post for the LBC last week (which was actually written in September) I have made a decision – To retire from the group and not take part in future weeks.

When I was invited to join the group at the inception of the Consortium back in July 2009 I dithered. Why? I take all commitments seriously and for me, this one was as important as any other. Do the work and show up on time, come hail, rain, drought or thunder!

Yes, I dithered quietly to myself for a couple of days: Would I find the words or even know the words, to convey my thoughts on the topics chosen by the wordsmiths Conrad, Ashok & Ramana? I was supposed to follow those lads, and the four of us post our efforts at the same time every Friday. We worked in that order for the first few months.

Conrad set the ball rolling with Creativity. C R E A T I V I T Y!

Yes, my internal butterflies proved correct. The three boyos each presented a thesis worthy of an academic degree and I wrote about sewing!

At that stage, the topic for the following week was chosen only after the previous one had time for the paint to dry.

Holy mother of Vestal Virgins. Week two and I was ready for the hills or to dive off the cliff at the end of my garden. That young buck, Ashok, all the way over in Bangalore, chose Stereotyping! I jumped. Not off the cliff, just outside the box. (Alas, I cannot provide you with a link to the early posts.)

Sometimes the prompter forgot until close to the date for publication, that it was their turn to throw in the topic. I panicked! I needed time to think because my mind works best in slow motion. Thus the topic list came into being.

The LBC family began to grow faster than an Irish family in pre central heating days! Over time we had eighteen members. Everyone had their opportunity to throw in ideas. Then people began to drift. Family situations, health issues, work, broken computers or lack of time or enthusiasm, took them away. Some resigned, some evaporated, but the core held on. I have to admit that I found writing on topics chosen by people who had disappeared or moved on, very uninspiring. I missed reading how they would approach or present their particular topic.

In the past year I have struggled, really struggled to stir my pot of enthusiasm across the board of my blogging. I want to make changes – perhaps post randomly for three days a week for a little while.

I know that if I pull the plug completely on the blog at this stage, I would not come back. That would be unfair to Elly, Darren, Anto and Phil and maybe others who have voluntarily given time to work on bringing my old blog of almost three thousand posts, up to date and try merging it with over 800 posts written here.

Out of respect, I wrote to the regular contributors to let them know that I wished to retire. I figured it would be simple and accepted. It was never my intention to disrupt the flow of the group, or pass on my waves of unrest to others. Unfortunately
Delirious, at Life on a Limb, has already written a post of resignation, she wants to take her blog back on the path she had originally chosen.

I was but a tiny cog in the wheel of the Loose Bloggers Consortium and as with all life, the LBC will go on without me and flourish. I wish the LBC members all the best for the future and may their words flow easily!

Now out of respect for Shackman who chose the topic of What is your favourite book (Bible excluded) to tickle the brain cells this week, I reproduce this one:

MY BOOK!

I did it!
I did it!
Come and look
At what I’ve done!
I read a book!
When someone wrote it
Long ago
For me to read,
How did he know
That this was the book
I’d take from the shelf
And lie on the floor
And read by myself?
I really read it!
Just like that!
Word by word,
From first to last!
I’m sleeping with
This book in bed,
This first FIRST book
I’ve ever read!
~ David L. Harrison ~

Conrad Ashok Ramana Grannymar Magpie 11 Marianna Maria/SF Maria/Gaelikaa Judy Ginger Anu Delirious Padmini Will Knott Paul Rohit Shackman Maxi

To all the members, present and past, I thank you for your friendship and all the wisdom I gained from your writing. I will continue to drop by and catch up with you and wish you well for the future.

Lán grá

Grannymar.

Another Granny does her thing

The title is not mine, it was suggested.

The photos were not taken by me, but I promised them back at the beginning of June.

Sure you know what a brazen hussy I am…. And the same guy was involved in that story too.

You might remember, I wrote about having a call from my friend Brian, while he was out walking one morning. He noticed something outside a house that made him think of me, so he phoned. Although it was a road he knew well and travelled almost daily when at home, he rarely passed there on foot. The road is narrow and with a lot of traffic so stopping in the car is not an option.

So what did he see…..

What a wonderful way to re-purpose those books that you are finished with and perhaps discover a few treasures that others leave outside your door!

The final photograph is the view of Dublin Bay from behind the book box, on a grey day. Taken from Baldoyle, it is looking southward.

Dublin Bay, on the east coast of Ireland, is curved like open arms ready to give a great big hug to all who visit! The bay is about 10 kilometres wide and stretches from Howth Head in the north to Dalkey Point in the south.

 Photo credit: Bronwen Maher's Dublin Bay

Photo credit:
Bronwen Maher’s Dublin Bay

Thank you Brian, for the photos!

Where has all the Traffic Gone?

My story today took place about 10 days before Elly started Nursery School. The new intake for the year started in small groups adding three or four children each week. The teachers worked according to the alphabet and since our surname belonged in the second half, it was October before her exciting first day.

 

Elly always found waiting difficult; she liked to be in the forefront of all the action. I am not sure that she has changed much over the years! I was running out of ideas to keep her distracted and knowing that my trips out shopping would have to fit in around her schedule for a couple of months, I decided to have one last morning in town. Since Jack, Elly’s dad was working in the Belfast area that day he offered to drop us off and then we could make our own way home when we had finished.

 

As we were getting out of the car Jack pushed something into my hand and told us to have a good lunch before going home. The note he gave me was well more than the bus fare, lunch and a few books at Cranes Bookshop!

 

Despite the regular frisking and checking of our bags as we entered each shop, we had fun looking at all the new autumn fashions and found a few items to add to our wardrobes. We picked and bought a tie for ‘Dad’ before heading to see Miss Crane. Being a normal Business/school day Miss Crane had plenty of time for Elly. An hour passed quickly as we browsed, checked out suggestions and finally selected three or four books to add to the growing library in Elly’s bedroom.

 

Adding this latest purchase to our ever increasing shopping bags we went in search of a good lunch. The garden Restaurant on the upper level of the Fountain Centre was our choice. Don’t go looking for it now, because it’s no longer there. We had a very enjoyable lunch and feeling satisfied with our morning we decided to catch the next bus home.

 

We reached the High Street bus stop in good time and sat on the wall at the ground level car park to await the arrival of our bus. It was a nice bright day and Elly enjoyed watching the world all around her. Busses came and went, cars passed and people sauntered or walked briskly to keep appointments. From the sky above we heard the drone of hovering helicopters, a sound we were very used to in this part of the world.

 

After a while I noticed the traffic was very light, no busses were arriving and then the cars disappeared completely. A few minutes later we heard the blare of sirens and Police and Army vehicles roared past. Things quietened and then after a pause with sirens blaring some of the vehicles returned from whence they came. It was a real indication of a bomb scare. This went on several times and we heard a few explosions. I had no idea if the explosions were controlled or from abandoned vehicles. None of this bothered Elly as she watched all that was happening around us. Never once did she ask why the bus did not come.

 

It was still early days for me in the North of Ireland, mobile phones were unheard of, and I only knew of two routes from Belfast to our home town. One of these was the motorway, not a possibility for walking home and the other was through some highly charged areas. There was also the fact that I had no idea of what to do if we were re directed at any point from this strife torn part of Belfast. My strong southern brogue was more a hindrance than a help so I decided that staying put was the safest option. The bus would come at some stage, so we sat on.

 

After a couple of hours I realised that Jack would be aware of what was going on and begin to worry about us. All drivers in those days stayed tuned to local radio for the latest traffic problems and delays. I saw a phone Kiosk on the corner of the street and checking I had sufficient coins I decided to call Jack’s office to see if he was there, alas he was not so I left a message for him saying we were safe and staying at the bus stop in High Street.

 

Ten or fifteen minutes later the traffic started to move and busses were allowed to leave the bus station once again. Our bus arrived and we boarded gladly. The traffic was very slow and the journey involved many changes to the normal route. We travelled on roads that day I had never seen before or since. The main part of the journey took us up the Crumlin Road, past Ballysillan to the Upper Hightown Road. Up on that high ground I had the most wonderful view of Belfast way below us glowing peacefully in the late afternoon sunshine. It was hard to credit the chaos that we had left behind us and it was almost worth the long delays just to get that view.

 

It was 5.30p.m as we arrived at our local bus station and alighted into the arms of a much relieved Jack. He had called his office and was given my message within five minutes of my call and he tried to reach us in High Street. A bus was drawing away from the stop when he turned into the street and he was unable because of the traffic to overtake us. He decided to make his own way home and wait at the bus station for us.

 

Safely home and preparing our meal I contented myself with no more visits to Belfast for the foreseeable future.