tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74571402002474246362024-03-14T11:11:04.036+00:00Bucolic FrolicsChristina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-8049774893387001762012-10-31T08:43:00.002+00:002012-10-31T08:43:20.134+00:00The Next Big Thing<div class="widget Blog" id="Blog1">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NTiVlsyS2y28jparg4dQiXYtcBzQX5kv8bhnSbGgjXNNsgZbb1q4G_jnE7yl_z3RaDplFGAlweamiwooz9fRupKjzd2t8McKbyvxZoVibhqUu1ekOAUgBeMtnHK5ZHHMa4sHEZG68-3w/s1600/Monsoon1+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NTiVlsyS2y28jparg4dQiXYtcBzQX5kv8bhnSbGgjXNNsgZbb1q4G_jnE7yl_z3RaDplFGAlweamiwooz9fRupKjzd2t8McKbyvxZoVibhqUu1ekOAUgBeMtnHK5ZHHMa4sHEZG68-3w/s320/Monsoon1+(2).jpg" width="203" /></a><!-- google_ad_section_start(name=default) -->Last week my friend, the fabulous Lesley Cookman (author of the superb Libby Sarjeant cosy crime series), tagged me in the Next Big Thing, an online chain of author and book recommendations - so today's blog post is me, answering set questions, about - yes, you guessed it - my Next Big Thing, which just happens to be my next book - AN ENORMOUSLY ENGLISH MONSOON WEDDING - which will be out in hardback and kindle in February 2013, and paperback in May 2013.<br />
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So, here goes....<br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">What is the title of your next book?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">Er - oops, sorry - just said that above - AN ENORMOUSLY ENGLISH MONSOON WEDDING.</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">Where did the idea for
the book come from?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">I wanted to write a funny, summery, weddingy book set in a country village - but with a difference. And as I've recently been closely involved with several fusion weddings, a sort of East-Meets-West marriage of different cultures seemed like a good idea.</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">What
genre does your book fall under?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">My very own branch of Romantic Comedy - Bucolic Frolics!</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">What actors would you choose to play the part of your
characters in a movie rendition?</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: blue;">No idea... My heroes live entirely in my head and heart, and I'm not sure there's a *real person* out there that would match them - although, assuming we're talking fantasy-casting here, if Jim Parsons was available to play anyone in anything I've ever written I'd be ecstatically speechless for ever and ever. Oh, and I have to admit that my heroines all have a touch of Katherine Parkinson about them...</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">Will your book be self-published or
represented by an agency?</span></i><br />
<span style="color: blue;"></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">My books are traditionally published by the Piatkus imprint of Little,Brown. </span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">How long did it
take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">About 8 weeks. I only ever write one draft and then edit as I go along. If I had to do several drafts I'd lose interest and write the life out of it. I'd tinker and faff and mess about with commas and then get bored.... </span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">What other books would you compare this story to within your
genre?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">I'm kindly linked with amazingly talented rom-com authors like Jill Mansell, Carole Matthews, Milly Johnson, Jane Lovering and Katie Fforde - I'm fantastically flattered by this!</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">Who or what inspired you to write this
book?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">My daughter's fabulous fusion wedding - which I must say, went far more smoothly than Erin and Jay's in AN ENORMOUSLY ENGLISH MONSOON WEDDING - with none of the horrors. My fictional fusion wedding is entirely fictional!</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">What else about your book might
pique the reader's interest?</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">The tagline for this book is "BOLLYWOOD COMES TO BERKSHIRE" - so I hope this is a hint that it's a bit mad, and colourful and noisy and lively... And it covers the six scorchingly hot summer weeks before Jay and Erin's wedding - a wedding they've planned carefully, a wedding they're absolutely sure will go exactly the way they want it to, without any hitches or problems or interference from friends and family... Poor deluded souls... Oh, and it's the first book in my new series of Bucolic Frolics. It's set in the village of Nook Green - and future books will take place in the neighbouring villages of Bluebell Common, Maizey St Michael, and Daisybank. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;">So - that's my Next Big Thing - and next Wednesday, November 7th, check out the blogs of my super tagged authors below, and find out what their NEXT BIG THING is going to be....</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">Sheila Norton/Olivia Ryan</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">Julie Day</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">Hazel Osmond</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">Lizzie Lamb</span></div>
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Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-60112678919540774622012-07-22T09:00:00.000+01:002012-07-22T11:51:53.731+01:00Sorry Blog - It's Been A Long, Long Time...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Blog - I'm very sorry that I've ignored you for so long, but you know how it is... stuff happens, some things have to take priority, other things get ignored - and yes, sorry again, but you were among the latter. I can see you've gone sniffy on me because everything's changed since we were last together. The Blogger layout for a start - and now the font and the settings - and I'm not sure that I like it. Hopefully, once we get used to one another again, it'll be okay.<br />
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And I've given you a gorgeous bunch of flowers here by way of apology and to show that we're all happy again. We are, aren't we???<br />
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So, Blog, I'm going to explain briefly, why you've been left to wander alone and unloved in Blogland since that last rather hurried post in Feb. FIVE months ago! Erk...<br />
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You see, Blog, you're supposed to be a happy thing. We've shared some tough times since we've been together, yes, but mainly you've been a source of light relief, something to smile over, maybe even raise a chuckle or a little giggle. And honestly, Blog, life has been a bit well, un-smiley and un-chuckly and un-giggly for ages and it seemed unfair to inflict a whole wodge of - basically - sad crap - on your shoulders. So, I ignored you.<br />
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Anyway, life now seems to be on the up - so I'm back and I hope you'll forgive me. The new book - AN ENORMOUSLY ENGLISH MONSOON WEDDING - is finished and with the copy editor. Now, you'll know that this book has been a bit of a trial - not least because when I'd written half of it - about last September - the computer crashed and burned and - gulp - I hadn't saved any of it. Yes, I know I'm useless - no need to rub it in. The boys at PC World did a good job of scraping the residue from the hard-drive but then it all had to be transported to the new computer - and it didn't like it. It just spat at me. And I was rubbish at trying to marry it with the new Word thingy - so I gave up and started writing it again...<br />
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Then everyone in the family was ill - I mean mostly hospital-ill - and I should have had a season ticket to that car park! Oh - they're all fine now, thanks, but half my life seemed to be spent in various wards and departments for weeks and I wrote zilch.<br />
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Then there were the deaths. Not related to the above paragraph I'm relieved to say. And no details, Blog. But three very good friends, all young, all sudden. Three funerals, three lots of consecutive heartbreak, three lots of grieving, masses and masses of tears - and no writing at all. My heart simply wasn't in it.<br />
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So, when I wasn't at hospitals or funerals, I was at the vets. Lexie, with her inoperable intestinal *lump* and Emily with her epilepsy and kidney failure, were backwards and forwards on a daily basis for weeks and weeks and each visit had me in stomach-knots and floods of tears. And I found it hard to write anything at all - let alone something cheerful. Oh, yes - against all odds, both Lexie and Emily are doing well, thanks. In fact they're both in the garden in the sun (do you remember sun?) as I'm typing this, having eaten a good breakfast and look set to carry on for a good while yet - but it's been touch and go for ages... And you know me, Blog, I can never write when the cats are ill.<br />
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So, the book was late. Very late. And I panicked - a lot. And worked off-line - again, no time to visit you, or answer emails or anything. And then, even when the book was done, I knew it wasn't great because I was unhappy - and there were rewrites - twice - which scared me because I began to wonder if this poor book, with so many fits and starts, would ever be a) finished and b) any good. I'm very happy to say, Blog, that thanks to a lot of understanding, hard work, careful suggestions and more patience than I'd have had with me, by my lovely editors and agent, AN ENORMOUSLY ENGLISH MONSOON WEDDING has finally turned into the upbeat, romping book I'd always hoped it would be.<br />
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So, all the above is really why I've been AWOL for so long. And there was other stuff too - legal stuff, too tedious to mention - but it all ate into my time. It's been one of those years... <br />
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However, and with fingers and toes tightly crossed, I'm going to say that I think things are finally getting better. I'm feeling more positive and yes, rather stupidly (?) I've just decided to write four books at the same time. Yes, I know - but I had four ideas that wouldn't leave me alone - so I'm currently writing bits of each one every day. And now the sun's shining (literally and metaphorically) and I'm smiling again. And I'm back with you.<br />
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I really, really hope you'll forgive me...<br />
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See you again soon - promise, Blog.<br />
lots of love<br />
Me xxxx <br />
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<br /></div>Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-71395932010427028542012-02-02T08:17:00.003+00:002012-02-02T08:33:16.662+00:00Publication Day!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WJjE5190HBj4M7ntGReSgRoIxjjZqRZ-oFQgcpNbwZ2NVrBKod3DYzOE_lraep96u0uopcSpNsu7vgSteOllzzdzqQ7SCAXuv-o8tvv8BMaHd3UnEJH2qpvG3po2EO91VoHT8JAr15FC/s1600/ncsg.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WJjE5190HBj4M7ntGReSgRoIxjjZqRZ-oFQgcpNbwZ2NVrBKod3DYzOE_lraep96u0uopcSpNsu7vgSteOllzzdzqQ7SCAXuv-o8tvv8BMaHd3UnEJH2qpvG3po2EO91VoHT8JAr15FC/s320/ncsg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704449664363749778" /></a><br />Yes, okay - it's over 3 months since I last blogged - THREE MONTHS! That's BAD! That's very, very BAD. I will start posting more regularly - promise - and there have been good reasons for the gap... oh, and I shouldn't even be blogging now because the new book has to be finished in Feb (and it will be!) so I'm deep in deadline hell, BUT I couldn't let publication day go by without a little bit of a celebration. Due to the deadline and everything else, the celebration will be pretty muted. There won't be any balloons or champagne or fireworks or bouquets - no, sadly my launch party is just me, still in my pyjamas, sitting in the back bedroom - er - study - at the desk, writing the new book while simply being ecstatically happy that NCSG has made it out there. So, the balloons and fireworks et al will be virtual, but I'm now raising a cyber glass of fizz to Never Can Say Goodbye! Happy Publication Day!Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-73994197847317125792011-10-05T08:05:00.008+01:002011-10-05T16:55:57.836+01:00I'm A Guilty Pleasure!<div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdMtoRBNVWDkHu-9w4acpfV_4YCi_FoVX2jKKpAMXhD_n3pLoaKUxqzZ5bmU0aX6FpGtMdUyNGeznHhbOdoXW5QyAOxn7_NF12XyXCJyUlknbGOL3WfXhmDucONMmpN8AdvpBuFBCOeM2/s1600/51szwsC0RsL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp%252CTopRight%252C12%252C-18_SH30_OU02_AA115_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 115px; height: 115px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659900861783999618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdMtoRBNVWDkHu-9w4acpfV_4YCi_FoVX2jKKpAMXhD_n3pLoaKUxqzZ5bmU0aX6FpGtMdUyNGeznHhbOdoXW5QyAOxn7_NF12XyXCJyUlknbGOL3WfXhmDucONMmpN8AdvpBuFBCOeM2/s320/51szwsC0RsL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp%252CTopRight%252C12%252C-18_SH30_OU02_AA115_.jpg" /></a><br />Well, after weeks and weeks of non-blogging due to the crash and burn of my previous computer (very sad as we'd been together for 8 years and knew each other so well) I'm back online! My new pc is very swish and very fast and scares me witless. Hopefully one day we'll grow to love one another. At the moment we're edging round each other warily like children in a new school...<br /><br />So, I've only one thing to say after my crash and burn experience - Back Up! I'm sure everyone else in the world religiously backs up their work on a daily/hourly basis - but I hadn't. I blame being the delirium of being a new Nanna. (Elle, Topaz and The Doctor are doing amazingly now - I'm still a bit shell-shocked). So, when the kiddies at PC World shook their heads over my old computer I knew I was in trouble... They've managed to retrieve a lot of stuff from the old hard drive but I'm still gnawing my knuckles in shame at things I've lost... So, please, please, please - don't think like I did - oh, it'll be okay - because it might just not be... I'm now backing up like a thing demented.<br /><br />Anyhow, now I'm back online (thank you to everyone who enquired - and when I've worked out how the new email system works on this computer I WILL reply, promise) I'm going to kick off with a brag (sorry) - hence the post title and the picture...<br /><br />In the brilliant Peter Robinson's brilliant new novel, Before The Poison, which I was reading in bed, I'm mentioned on page 315!!!! His heroine, Heather, has just settled into her new flat and has spent an evening eating pizza, watching trashy telly and reading a book for the first time in years - "a Christina Jones - a real guilty pleasure..."!!!!<br /><br />Oh, well, wow! and thank you Peter - especially as you're mega-famous and currently have a series on telly and all. I was so over-excited at the mention that I dropped the book, yelled a lot, scared the cats and woke up The Toyboy Trucker who wasn't best pleased or even the teeniest bit impressed.<br /><br />As for me - well, I'm preening and showing-off in my usual diva fashion and am telling anyone who'll listen that now I'm not just a New Nanna - I'm also A Guilty Pleasure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! </div></div>Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-37305400822903948282011-08-15T21:03:00.003+01:002011-08-15T21:23:30.936+01:00It's A Girl!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtC04I7FSgdoE3td-FpCQyPgSASiouKf7_J4dIhmvs2dps6fME-7U-4PvNUTyfWFjnf0nPBYHG9wWk20L7JSc4Cec4LPNcY0TwgXcctIuB9_3_qgZiHGNzmlieELqkz38wY-I9yMuLYjj/s1600/its-a-girl-2.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtC04I7FSgdoE3td-FpCQyPgSASiouKf7_J4dIhmvs2dps6fME-7U-4PvNUTyfWFjnf0nPBYHG9wWk20L7JSc4Cec4LPNcY0TwgXcctIuB9_3_qgZiHGNzmlieELqkz38wY-I9yMuLYjj/s320/its-a-girl-2.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641180707032191106" /></a>
<br />On Tuesday 9th August 2011 at 3.56 a.m. I became a grandmother! Yes, very early - and not without its dramas - but it's all over now and Mum and Baby are doing fine. Nanna (as I've elected to be called - as in Peter Pan) is still in shock.
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<br />Poor Elle, after a lousy pregnancy and several weeks in hospital with pre-eclampsia, became too ill to carry on so they decided to induce the baby last Sunday. After a 36 hour labour (don't ask - none of us ate or slept and God alone knows how Elle coped without shouting or screaming once, bless her - brave wasn't in it!) our granddaughter made her appearance. She was popped straight into an incubator and rushed off to SCBU where she was first in intensive care, then high dependency, then rallied nicely and eventually rejoined her exhausted mum and happy dad two days later on the ward.
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<br />I won't go into all the gory details but I can assure you that this will be our only grandchild! Anyway, she and Elle were discharged from hospital and finally came home last night - which is why I haven't posted before. They've both been given the all clear and are now happily reunited with The Doctor, and of course, our granddaughter is the cutest, tiniest, most gorgeous and perfect thing in the whole world - even though she shouldn't be here for quite a while yet.
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<br />Her name? Well she has two and they're beautiful: one British and one Indian to mark her dual heritage - but to protect her anonymity, for blog purposes, I shall call her Topaz because that's what I've been calling the bump since Easter when I was convinced it was a girl.
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<br />So now The Toyboy Trucker is a besotted Grumpy (Elle's choice!) - and a whiz at nappy changing and bottle feeding - and I'm just besotted and elated and really, really thankful it's all over.
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<br />Welcome to the world, Topaz - I'm your Nanna!!!!!!!!!!! Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-72820599029171646802011-08-01T08:12:00.003+01:002011-08-01T08:42:01.809+01:00The End Of An Era - Or New Beginnings?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaT5_5R8-olU9nwixfV3PglAR0ozTikUSvRQrDXGFmzbJoeMQWGas6NCetULuTngPanXJ_RwZ6A1A05ZVxmf7D9pskUn8ocqqyycbfYtz1LQRBIiyIZj6JbSqRVGsfO_wkfKOmpDFPE03/s1600/chapter+one.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaT5_5R8-olU9nwixfV3PglAR0ozTikUSvRQrDXGFmzbJoeMQWGas6NCetULuTngPanXJ_RwZ6A1A05ZVxmf7D9pskUn8ocqqyycbfYtz1LQRBIiyIZj6JbSqRVGsfO_wkfKOmpDFPE03/s320/chapter+one.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635788260022650946" /></a><br />Last Friday The Toyboy Trucker left the company he's worked for for the last 12 years - his choice by the way, and one not taken lightly. From starting off sorting parcels in the warehouse, to delivering said parcels in a white van, to becoming a long-distance lorry driver, thundering up and down the country in a 42 ton artic - and then deciding to get himself an education while still working... And all those promotions and area moves to Operations Manager, then Depot Manager, and finally Southern Area Hub Manager...<br /><br />So, this morning it was no more corporate suit-shirt-tie and briefcase-and-laptop and multiple mobiles! Hooray! This morning he started off on his new venture - working with his best mate on a cross-country delivery business of their very own. This morning he left here in jeans, polo shirt and boots.... He's a Toyboy Trucker again - and I'm more delighted than you'll ever know. <br /><br />And this morning, after he'd left the house looking once again like the boy I fell in love with, I typed Chapter One of the new book of the new deal. It's still unoriginally called Book One because I'm still without a title, but I've written four pages already (it's 8.20 a.m.) and it's going okay... I will probably find it very hard to remember not to add a dollop of magic in this book - this is very much the end of an era for me too - but it's quite exciting to be starting something completely new. <br /><br />So, Monday August 1st 2011 - the end of an era for both of us as we leave the safe and familiar behind and step into the unknown - but a date to remember for our new beginnings too. Risky? Yes, definitely. But we're both hoping they'll be lovely life-changing beginnings. Time, I'm sure, will tell...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-1447236942376835952011-07-25T09:22:00.008+01:002011-07-25T10:23:16.260+01:00My New Spiritual Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_-8PlEOBp8VYDoZUKdvuUY0d-ZsIOO0GtJ0N-_iQJOSPQwAfcYGHEPpVeCYBML7UF5FGnTtrvLNcs4D54ajNmptyy82mkf7WTGGKT87CaRcC0suGM-oRQf5EmSY9UKAJpA1nU2lj0izh/s1600/southallhigh.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_-8PlEOBp8VYDoZUKdvuUY0d-ZsIOO0GtJ0N-_iQJOSPQwAfcYGHEPpVeCYBML7UF5FGnTtrvLNcs4D54ajNmptyy82mkf7WTGGKT87CaRcC0suGM-oRQf5EmSY9UKAJpA1nU2lj0izh/s320/southallhigh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633214743414654306" /></a><br />Well! Unless you unleashed me in a chocolate factory with a spoon I couldn't have asked for more! We (me, The Toyboy Trucker, Elle and The Doctor) went to Southall Broadway to shop for wedding clothes... And I was entranced, bedazzled, completely overcome with dizzy excitement. So many fabulous shops. All those rainbow colours... All that glitter and sparkle and twinkle... Total, absolute bliss. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkzmyXdD8cnHMzNa_sPfVbgn_J2sSjeulb4dIGWOHkSYw3FiRN-S8pySq4Lql3nG54BuJGCUDx7SNRdwq5cxPYD1dmVCnpdaqGqYPfvkv-PEMrqBDvpOYHJODQjfRm8K0KQbcYJ5SrDHr/s1600/saris+on+rack.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkzmyXdD8cnHMzNa_sPfVbgn_J2sSjeulb4dIGWOHkSYw3FiRN-S8pySq4Lql3nG54BuJGCUDx7SNRdwq5cxPYD1dmVCnpdaqGqYPfvkv-PEMrqBDvpOYHJODQjfRm8K0KQbcYJ5SrDHr/s320/saris+on+rack.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633214538032549826" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Doctor's brother is getting married next month, in a traditional Hindu/Jain ceremony - which involves several events (not just the wedding - and even the reception takes place the day AFTER the nuptials) so we needed suitable outfits - naturally. Well, The Toyboy Trucker and The Doctor are wearing suits, but Elle and I felt that as "family" we should be bedecked in as much Indian splendour as possible... It wasn't just an excuse for yet more clothes shopping, honest...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFpcesfa8euTrgVtwT9CB0eq5m8n3lrYAWXsZclYLjdOqfgFDUm7CycxxH84hMpq52RoZRhv2lu0ScPq1NCEGed6vI7bTGWL4k3tnZyULsR6u9Rwrv75ruIkZhGbzQvmnr-iU0k5UNuvzT/s1600/london-tribes-and-vibes-southall_sh03_ab.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFpcesfa8euTrgVtwT9CB0eq5m8n3lrYAWXsZclYLjdOqfgFDUm7CycxxH84hMpq52RoZRhv2lu0ScPq1NCEGed6vI7bTGWL4k3tnZyULsR6u9Rwrv75ruIkZhGbzQvmnr-iU0k5UNuvzT/s320/london-tribes-and-vibes-southall_sh03_ab.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633215000603739746" /></a> So, we went to Southall to buy something stunning and authentic - and I absolutely adored it!!!! It's vibrant, jam-packed, lively - and looks and smells and sounds as if you've just stepped into a Bollywood movie. There's no "death of the High Street" in Southall, I can tell you. And oh, what bliss to be served by people who actually cared. Who were interested in what we bought and why we were buying it. Who said - and proved - that nothing was too much trouble. <br /><br />Elle, determined to look fabulous and girly and not at all like a marquee (even though she will be nine months pregnant on the wedding day) homed in on swathes of sari silk in lilac and silver, turquoise and gold - all of which floated and fell beautifully round her bump - set off by matching softly-gathered salwar trousers encrusted with sequins and embroidery - and the most fabulous matching dupatta stoles, and looked like a princess. Albeit quite a large princess....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_OcyyUwjg61I_ckB8xaCp9lSbdeRl7QXVFLe6NgYXsBqy3IqCsxcUYGiFaz_ba0JXsgz3vddZ-pNeiwhr3LjG-6WAEfuzmWCV4kePsMEnagUEXNOKJ3p_Su_xM62kEkuKEsMpXbTdhmx/s1600/salwar_suits_399ssi.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_OcyyUwjg61I_ckB8xaCp9lSbdeRl7QXVFLe6NgYXsBqy3IqCsxcUYGiFaz_ba0JXsgz3vddZ-pNeiwhr3LjG-6WAEfuzmWCV4kePsMEnagUEXNOKJ3p_Su_xM62kEkuKEsMpXbTdhmx/s320/salwar_suits_399ssi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633215156915686914" /></a><br />I settled on a salwar suit in purple and gold... I'm now convinced that I shall live in salwar suits for the rest of my life. Why have I never discovered them before???? So comfortable, so elegant, so flattering, so pretty - they're light and drifty to wear, hide a multitude of sins, and made me feel like a - well, no not a princess (too old, too fat) - maybe a sort of Bhangra Queen Mother????<br /><br />By the time Elle and I had ooohed and aaahed our way up and down the Broadway, and eventually made up our minds, and then dived in and out of a zillion jewellery shops for the necessary matching multiple bangles and ear-rings, The Toyboy Trucker and The Doctor had become a bit bored with all the glitz and glam and girlie shrieks of glee, and wandered off to Jalebi Junction, one of the most famous food stalls Southall has to offer.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy96idCrtMD66dVDOLkLPbQO-IluV_m_uUa4Uzty2hUKBBRXmDzLG7Qkvvl_zyN6aWiYs_t3vFOm2oPQAXB9oC4Qh1ymKFY1-cw7PPbl2piqeVhL0zy7Ham5GOMsW3Uuo9UFbEgUvskSIj/s1600/jalebi+junction.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy96idCrtMD66dVDOLkLPbQO-IluV_m_uUa4Uzty2hUKBBRXmDzLG7Qkvvl_zyN6aWiYs_t3vFOm2oPQAXB9oC4Qh1ymKFY1-cw7PPbl2piqeVhL0zy7Ham5GOMsW3Uuo9UFbEgUvskSIj/s320/jalebi+junction.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633215726125261506" /></a><br />Jalebis are sticky, glorious, made-on-the-spot sweets. Spirals of fresh dough are piped into boiling oil and fried while you wait and watch. The dough takes on the characteristic orange colour in the deep frying process and is then dunked into another container of sugar syrup. The jalebis are then cooled on a wire rack until they can be popped into a brown paper bag and handed to you with the warning that they're very, very hot. Yes they are, but I defy anyone not to eat them while they're very, very hot. Even though you can't speak and get covered in syrup and look pretty disgusting... They're the most delicious things I've ever tasted - well, apart from the Gulab Jamons of course (the nearest thing to Rum Babas - and heaven - I've ever found).<br /><br />Eventually - after eating our body-weight in an Indian veggie buffet restaurant - we made our way home, tired, full-to-bursting, and deliriously happy. All I hope now is that the baby stays put and we can wear our finery at the wedding - otherwise at the next Romantic Novelists shindig I'll be the fat one in the Salwar Suit and far too many bangles....Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-81615805515135863592011-07-13T07:37:00.006+01:002011-07-13T15:07:15.817+01:00Never Can Say Goodbye<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9X_rlHEVnfUlU-iwqDEFrOiF8KApL33Lbb7GIKA_3tfKy5E1HRuLzIbxqzI__K3erEQ5iXwcV03rDsSBmkth4kyfBuIqipdjmS2B3bjE7KCqjAg957XRnZRhQcm_hlVmnmX-s9BNGjy6g/s1600/ncsg.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9X_rlHEVnfUlU-iwqDEFrOiF8KApL33Lbb7GIKA_3tfKy5E1HRuLzIbxqzI__K3erEQ5iXwcV03rDsSBmkth4kyfBuIqipdjmS2B3bjE7KCqjAg957XRnZRhQcm_hlVmnmX-s9BNGjy6g/s320/ncsg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628732868799717858" /></a><br />Yes, I know NCSG isn't out until February next year (hardback in Sept this year) but I absolutely LOVE the cover, so I'm making no apologies for using it as the illustration for this post. I think it's just so girlie and pretty... I've got a copy pinned on the wall in front of me and I just sigh wistfully over those gorgeous frocks and the fabulous trailing roses and the to-die-for handbags... Thank you so much to Louise Anglicas, the clever, talented artist, for producing something so totally beautiful.<br /><br />And as Never Can Say Goodbye is about a retro frock shop run by Frankie, the heroine, and has a DDG florist, Dexter, as the hero - then the frocks'n'flowers combination works so well. Yep - it's official - I'm in love with this cover...<br /><br />Of course, there's a lot more to NCSG than just frocks'n'flowers. It's winter in the quaintly old-fashioned Berkshire village of Kingston Dapple - a very, very cold winter - and Francesca's Fabulous Frocks in the market square is home not only to a mass of vintage dresses, but also to a collection of very odd people. There's Brian from the kebab van; Biddy the bitch; Lilly, Frankie's air-head flat-mate; Cherish, the worst colour-palette-advisor in the world; Maisie the useless medium - and of course Dexter, the philandering Beckhamesque florist and his many conquests. Several of my previous characters appear too: Slo and Essie, Phoebe, Amber, Clemmie, Sukie etc, and all the cooks from The Way To A Woman's Heart - oh, and of course there are also ghosts... ghosts with attitude... ghosts with issues... ghosts with frock-envy... funny ghosts... sad ghosts... and even ghosts who don't know they are ghosts. <br /><br />I've always wanted to write a rom com ghost story and am so pleased that Never Can Say Goodbye rounds off my practical magic series nicely.<br /><br />So, yes - the good news - I've just been offered a new deal by my lovely publishers Piatkus/Little,Brown (thank you!!!) - and the bad news (maybe?) - it's the end of the current series. After eight books, we've all decided that it's time to say goodbye to the magic and hello to a whole new world.<br /><br />So, while I'm still going to be bucolic frolicking in rural Berkshire, it's goodbye to Hazy Hassocks, Bagley-cum-Russet, Fiddlesticks, Lovers Knot and Winterbrook and their inhabitants - and hello to Nook Green, Daisybank, Bluebell Common and Maizey St Michael along with a whole new set of characters having a whole new set of romantic and hopefully funny adventures.<br /><br />I think it'll be hard for me to leave the Hubble Bubble world behind - but I'm very excited about getting to know my new villages and meeting the people who live there. And as the first one (currently imaginatively titled Book One) in the new series has to be written, finished and delivered by Feb I really ought be popping off to Nook Green right now...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-22446952421107008712011-07-05T21:58:00.003+01:002011-07-05T22:21:09.177+01:00Ghod Bharai - and My Bindi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKqIz6Wsrc5QHqok4q7XJH9zDBCOf9AKKoISOuH6_jCL5ut1QCpPCoWqK2SM6mjlXfKdsq77Y4aMcaqxSy766kG7nk_SV4SzemzzVPBWC2ECAckg6Of9hLQwuyo-Bxnu0yr02IZEAM8yi/s1600/bindi.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKqIz6Wsrc5QHqok4q7XJH9zDBCOf9AKKoISOuH6_jCL5ut1QCpPCoWqK2SM6mjlXfKdsq77Y4aMcaqxSy766kG7nk_SV4SzemzzVPBWC2ECAckg6Of9hLQwuyo-Bxnu0yr02IZEAM8yi/s320/bindi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625979667488246978" /></a><br />Elle had her Ghod Bharai on Sunday - and it was absolutely brilliant. I hadn't got a clue what it entailed - but the Ghod Bharai is a Hindu baby shower thrown by all the Indian female rellies when the 7th month of pregnancy passes into the 8th - yep, it's gone that quickly! It's a lovely colourful happy celebration (and held - fortunately - in the mum-to-be's own home) when they bring traditional gifts and money and jewellery and bless her and the baby and eat a lot! There were some prayers and some funny traditional stuff like passing a small child between Elle and The Doctor seven times for luck (fortunately one of the cousins-in-law had brought a small child so we didn't have to go out and find one - this might have involved having to answer a lot of awkward questions). The Toyboy Trucker and I loved every minute of it! I had to present her with a kilo of rice washed by the waters of the Ganges (so not Tescos!) and a coconut with a swastika on it - the swastika being a Hindu symbol of happiness, well-being and joy...<br /><br />In the absence of the necessary sisters-in-law, Elle's female cousins-in-law plus her sis-in-law-to-be had to dress her in a ceremonial sari which had to be attached to a rope-thing tied round her bump and then pleated - it took ages and yards and yards of material and because it was heavy (emerald green silk covered in gold threads) she could hardly move. And she looked like a marquee. However she was very good and didn't scream or bite anyone so that was a blessing.<br /><br />The full-on Hindu wedding of The Doctor's brother and the beautiful Nisha is imminent (two weeks before Elle's due date - eeek!) and all the cousins agreed there was no way Elle could wear a sari for that - so if she's okay (she's enormous and has SPD and some scary foot/leg/hand swelling - the Dr and midwife say her BP is normal and she's doing fine - so maybe it's just me that's worrying), we're going to Southall next week with the girlie-cousins-in-law to find something more comfy and suitable for her to wear at the wedding - probably a sari suit with a long flowing jacket over stretchy silk trousers with elasticated waist. I'm going Eastern as well and am hoping to find a sari in purple and gold.... I'm so looking forward to it as I love all things colourful and glittery and don't mind in the slightest looking like a marquee (par for the course for me).<br /><br />The very best thing about Elle's Ghod Bharai for me, was the bindis. They're the face jewels for Hindu celebrations. Elle had to have seven in a rainbow across her forehead, but I had one as mother of the mother-to-be and it was a tiny tear-drop ruby surrounded by diamonds between my eyebrows. Fabulous! I'm still wearing it! And no, sadly, that isn't me in the picture - ooooh, I wish...<br /><br />Oh, and the food was amazing too. Elle and The Doctor had provided the food - an entire veggie Indian banquet - and the rellies cooked it - the kitchen was just filled with women of all ages in multi-coloured saris all cooking away and chattering like magpies and we ate it in the sunshine in the garden and it was the most fabulous spread ever - and we didn't move for the rest of the day!<br /><br />When the baby arrives they're all coming back on the 6th day to have a similar ceremony for the Naming of the Child. I do love the way they celebrate things, and all the colour and laughter and sparkle. And the food... Oh, and especially the bindis...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-31380840832746202922011-06-30T21:26:00.017+01:002011-06-30T21:58:54.576+01:00Ten Years TodayThis isn't a proper blog post - I'm planning on getting back to those really, really soon, promise - but just a little memorial for Pat, and for me, because I feel I have to mark the tenth anniversary of her death - and not just with my own ritual of sitting in the garden on our (now crumbling but still there - just) seat with all the usual accompaniments, and remembering and being sad and happy and lonely all at the same time, which I did early this morning in the sun and the birdsong.<br /><br />It's ten years today without her in my life - still can't believe it... Still miss her so much. Still think about her every day. The things below are what we always had by way of celebrating absolutely anything, and what we said we'd have at our funerals when were at least 97...<br /><br />So, Pat, love, if you're up there laughing your socks off because I'm now 10 years older than you and about to become a grandmother (you'd have been an ace Great Auntie Pat!) - this is for you with love, always...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_lqbPvwwvmukMn3_L6JNCrxWSRnkxkRIdxz42pPCypjUuBJSy2jhfAxXOfsXahptUsrVgTtdA2CVpOP9TZ-0_Z1XpTqkLRFof-xH0xYsuhMbRgwDPrFvbL6tvpm8wXmMd921W96BvrONB/s1600/iris.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_lqbPvwwvmukMn3_L6JNCrxWSRnkxkRIdxz42pPCypjUuBJSy2jhfAxXOfsXahptUsrVgTtdA2CVpOP9TZ-0_Z1XpTqkLRFof-xH0xYsuhMbRgwDPrFvbL6tvpm8wXmMd921W96BvrONB/s320/iris.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624116312453042178" /></a> Blue and yellow irises - our favourite flowers in our favourite racing colours on so many happy occasions. Nothing more to say on that score!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9xbepj9_UQ_p_YwWDsu7EVPsoZzV8in-491inf9MlF0zvsG3GKwIFbf84sqpJZ5Njt4eV_qpz8R_7V8_HN35xbMHxgX_JmjXYhGJ7_l1bKbwOgzalCIRBx-FyCGQroYNdBLPWTA_t-TI/s1600/cream+slice.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9xbepj9_UQ_p_YwWDsu7EVPsoZzV8in-491inf9MlF0zvsG3GKwIFbf84sqpJZ5Njt4eV_qpz8R_7V8_HN35xbMHxgX_JmjXYhGJ7_l1bKbwOgzalCIRBx-FyCGQroYNdBLPWTA_t-TI/s320/cream+slice.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624114135683507842" /></a> Cream slice - our favourite cake. Such a lot of fun to be had with them - and so much mess to be made - and so much licking of fingers etc (and not necessarily our own or each other's!) afterwards...<br /><br /><br />Cristal champagne - we always raised a glass at every opportunity - and then some!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfLAGFR2I6XMrIffmIy1Fxz9yGhME6FhY_s86mm90JF0HYfAOL-wqTRIjAGUiuEa7PW150QYjHbLULZTnW8BMnrI07YSQH70EydugOpf-wfSYdNbp7pZH3WBL0HmN-q5bjIsztAElvSks/s1600/cristal.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfLAGFR2I6XMrIffmIy1Fxz9yGhME6FhY_s86mm90JF0HYfAOL-wqTRIjAGUiuEa7PW150QYjHbLULZTnW8BMnrI07YSQH70EydugOpf-wfSYdNbp7pZH3WBL0HmN-q5bjIsztAElvSks/s320/cristal.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624113783385150706" /></a><br /><br /><br />And finally - Wrigleys spearmint chewing gum - for reasons far too rude and personal and private jokey to post here - and she'll know why!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiROTdtq34v1gGAV6YA5pd1_A4zIXUV2-wZ5gnfHFxFniKl8o5DiCb7fg_9bE_QQln0eoryAiVS_EYZqIc0ARgmc806wg2wlKrkSpnfU7ERngdI4xJvSJVPoplEHhfLDxaEL_1r8xCmwJP/s1600/wrigley-s-spearmint-chewing-gum-10-sticks-pack-of-20%257E10213519.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 126px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiROTdtq34v1gGAV6YA5pd1_A4zIXUV2-wZ5gnfHFxFniKl8o5DiCb7fg_9bE_QQln0eoryAiVS_EYZqIc0ARgmc806wg2wlKrkSpnfU7ERngdI4xJvSJVPoplEHhfLDxaEL_1r8xCmwJP/s320/wrigley-s-spearmint-chewing-gum-10-sticks-pack-of-20%257E10213519.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624114710704596642" /></a>Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-53922017727995014372011-05-03T08:58:00.008+01:002011-05-03T09:48:45.483+01:00Coming Out on Kindle and Other Stuff<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqRpSa00pOteazCMBgbG6AXAu_HmfBEpuJY0ncnRO8cWf2tiRrBizBjV7ejts-TYCm8ILFB0nfmvCySbCO9IZABMDiHF-axiIaCZfOlMhB69X3jYS7mzDtd7_5MQilcmOnFJATY_uyb0J/s1600/heakindle.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqRpSa00pOteazCMBgbG6AXAu_HmfBEpuJY0ncnRO8cWf2tiRrBizBjV7ejts-TYCm8ILFB0nfmvCySbCO9IZABMDiHF-axiIaCZfOlMhB69X3jYS7mzDtd7_5MQilcmOnFJATY_uyb0J/s320/heakindle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602396890186314146" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhR5mO309n2rRA7OpST4ILHfUzYQ9GTNxy6Wq2Pp4YJSeLalHjbyZmub7Nf1y-p8WFC2sp9m4g8R5v7P_nofNTE_J_eXPbhyphenhyphenGXOOhmNAMOfJwNM11jM8nVeAzNaIbGA8cHbFzir8zxBJBf/s1600/BFkindle.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhR5mO309n2rRA7OpST4ILHfUzYQ9GTNxy6Wq2Pp4YJSeLalHjbyZmub7Nf1y-p8WFC2sp9m4g8R5v7P_nofNTE_J_eXPbhyphenhyphenGXOOhmNAMOfJwNM11jM8nVeAzNaIbGA8cHbFzir8zxBJBf/s320/BFkindle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602396629770756866" /></a><br /><br /><br />So - after months of procrastinating and faffing and declaring that I'm far too much of a techno-idiot to cope with anything electronic and that books are books with paper pages you can turn and feel and smell and not soulless words-on-a-screen, I've joined the 21st century!<br /><br />I've gathered together two short-ish volumes of short-ish short stories and published them on Amazon Kindle with the help of lovely Aimee Fry from The Author Works who did the covers, and I'm chuffed to bits with them! <br /><br />Bucolic Frolics - a collection of rural romps - is available on ASIN:B004UH7V5Q<br />and<br />Happy Ever After - a selection of short rom-coms - is on ASIN:B004UGPVH2<br /><br />It took me ages and ages to work out how to do it (even though the Kindle instructions are wonderfully simple, but then so am I...) then I had a eureka moment when it all fell into place - and I was SO proud of myself when I did it! I wasn't sure about pricing, so just went for the cheapest option, and I'm now going to have a go at *Kindling* a couple of my earlier out of print books and some more short stories - so you have been warned!<br /><br />The absence from the blog and the plunge into *Kindling* do have a common thread - I've been a bit ill - again. I had post-herpetic-neuralgia - the after-effects of the last lot of shingles when the skin from my neck to my waist felt like someone was constantly pouring acid over it, and the nerve endings in my spine and ribs became inflamed in sympathy and HURT non-stop - and believe me you DO NOT want it. Never, ever... As I spent most of April high as a kite on mega-death-strength prescription pain killers and was unable to sit or lay down or wear any clothes from the waist up (not an attractive sight - and no, I didn't go outside) and slept (ho-ho-ho!) fitfully by standing up and draping myself over a dining room chair, the only thing I could do to take my mind off the crappy stuff was to spend the enforced waking hours by messing around with Kindle. So I did...<br /><br />It hasn't been all bad though. Last weekend, because I was feeling better, we all went to Jersey for Easter. <em>We</em> being me and The Toyboy Trucker and Elle and The Doctor. And a jolly bunch we were too. Well, TTT and The Doctor were fine, but I was still zonked on medication and hurt quite a bit, and Elle hasn't had the best of pregnancies so far - so the girlie half of the party waddled and limped and grizzled - but we also sat in the glorious scorching sun by the sea and people-watched and ate loads (sadly neither of us are allowed alcohol so it was slightly less lively than it might have been) AND we met up with Debs and her lovely husband and the fabulous Grumpy for lunch AND huge milkshakes - which was brilliant. Thanks Debs - we LOVED it!<br /><br />And now post-Royal Wedding (I thought it was fabulous.... sigh...) and all those millions of bank holidays I'm going back to work... Which hopefully means that as well as *Kindling* I really will answer emails and catch up with FaceBook and maybe even crack on with Only Make Believe. Of course the garden looks like a jungle and the house is akin to a midden - but they can wait - can't they????Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-27011504653696480572011-03-22T23:45:00.005+00:002011-03-25T10:07:50.643+00:00Endings and Beginnings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAA1ijaye4CE8WPaKZLhZtedYw9CBCW9VGw28PJ35jwn7gBor3Km4SGMAQk-eXFAw5q3Ee-0QNawEduHkqmt1HPnxlwLUrDCSKlPZ5dGEngv5qyz3B1acBgst5kRXUBrYVOb-GvueQzPur/s1600/0511-0811-0316-4960_Happy_Woman_Running_Barefoot_Through_Flowers_clipart_image.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAA1ijaye4CE8WPaKZLhZtedYw9CBCW9VGw28PJ35jwn7gBor3Km4SGMAQk-eXFAw5q3Ee-0QNawEduHkqmt1HPnxlwLUrDCSKlPZ5dGEngv5qyz3B1acBgst5kRXUBrYVOb-GvueQzPur/s320/0511-0811-0316-4960_Happy_Woman_Running_Barefoot_Through_Flowers_clipart_image.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587956559449846130" /></a><br />Oh joy! Never Can Say Goodbye is done! And I mean REALLY done. Edits and all. I've written another book!!! It's always like a miracle to me when that happens because I'm never sure how it actually turns from mad stuff in my head to 400 pages of comparative sense on the computer. And of course it means I can now look at the blurb for NCSG on Amazon and not panic. I always panic when the blurb gets there before I've finished writing the book somehow. It seems sort of scary. Like tempting fate. Although sometimes when the blurb is there really early, I've actually changed the book to suit the blurb, but not this time. This time - phew - it's okay.<br /><br />Never Can Say Goodbye was one of those books that (once I'd started it - and yes, I faffed around with starting it for ages because I wasn't sure that funny ghosts were exactly what anyone was looking for) just seemed to fall into place (oh, I <em>so</em> wish they were all like that) and didn't give me any real problems. Once I got going it just seemed to work. And for that reason I love it. Mwah!<br /><br />Now all I have to do is start the next one - which is okay because I actually have an idea... Well, actually I've already started writing it. In fact I started writing it the day I finished NCSG. It's called (at the moment) Only Make Believe. Now it's all getting a bit weird because I'm starting to sound like one of those cocksure writers who knows what they're doing. And I don't. I'm just on a bit of a high. Usually when I've finished writing a book I just slink off somewhere and slump and know I'll never, ever be able to do it again. But this time it's all very different. Oh, the joy of books like NCSG and Hub Bub and Going the Distance and Moonshine that just - well - happen and give me a nice big whoomph of much-needed writerly confidence.<br /><br />So that's the endings bit of this post's subject line - and a bit of the beginnings. The other bit of the beginnings (and much, much more exciting and amazing) is because I'm going to be a grandmother.<br /><br />Elle and The Doctor are expecting their first baby on September 1st.<br /><br />Of course, as The Toyboy Trucker said, we're <em>far </em>too young to be grandparents, which is sweet of him, but to be honest here on the estate, if you're not a Nan and Gramps in your 40s you're considered pretty weird.<br /><br />To say we're ecstatic would be a major understatement. But I promise here and now that - unlike the wedding - I won't gush a lot and give boring (to everyone else) minute details of the pregnancy. Will just say that poor Elle is currently having a pretty rough time with morning sickness 24/7 but we're all hoping this will soon be at an end. Especially The Doctor who is having the full-on joyous experience. We've seen the scan, complete with little hands and feet - incredible - and although it looks more like a tabby kitten than a baby I'm sure it'll be fine when the whole process is complete. They are determined not to find out the sex, so I'm currently knitting a layette in a nice non-discriminatory mustard...<br /><br />Now I can saunter off and answer emails (sorry!) and catch up with FaceBook (sorry!) and decide whether I want to be a glamorous granny, or a mad boho writing granny, or a nice cosy granny in aprons and slippers like I had... And shall I be Nan or Gran or Granny or Grandma???? <br /><br />Decisions, decisions...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-37909836540211921592011-03-08T09:06:00.003+00:002011-03-08T11:05:04.215+00:00Jill Mansell Won The Jelly-Wrestling!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tw_kcjjqBORAN5_ZG05SROg8ZKctViKBTJviHjtuYaEXBBHCki4fjr-U4C3-GuCKTuc-OgOhuj_ift_uDMXwxxPecT8jS2Sp96scec38DPGFHHxX_wKt1CHimr1KpCZyEK7FNrqw47oH/s1600/me+and+broo"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tw_kcjjqBORAN5_ZG05SROg8ZKctViKBTJviHjtuYaEXBBHCki4fjr-U4C3-GuCKTuc-OgOhuj_ift_uDMXwxxPecT8jS2Sp96scec38DPGFHHxX_wKt1CHimr1KpCZyEK7FNrqw47oH/s320/me+and+broo" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581636029913481634" /></a><br />As Jill had promised publicly on Facebook that we would be bikini-clad and wrestle in jelly for the Rom Com Prize at yesterday's RNA Pure Passion Awards I'm delighted to say that she won it by a country mile and therefore there was no need for me to display my acres of wobbliness while rolling around in strawberry goo...<br /><br />I was absolutely chuffed to bits that Jill won - because she's a great mate, a brilliant writer, and I love her. There was no flouncing or tantrums from me - I was just thrilled to ribbons to have been short-listed and to have been part of such a glitzy and auspicious occasion. I met so many friends, and made some new ones, and everyone looked fabulously glam. I loved every minute of it.<br /><br />Congratulations to all the other award winners too, and while there was (in my opinion but then I'm a bit of a gannet) too little food (and that's pretty shocking considering my lovely publishers had generously taken me to lunch at Michel Roux's Brasserie - a mind-blowing gastronomical experience - BEFORE the Awards Ceremony), there was certainly more than enough champagne as can be seen from the - er - slight squiffiness in the pic (courtesy of Liz Fenwick)... This is me and Broo, my amazing and lovely agent, after our umpteenth glass...<br /><br />A short blog post today because I'm still supposed to be working offline and trying to meet the Never Can Say Goodbye deadline (it WILL be done by next Monday!) - but I just wanted to say how thrilled and excited I was to have been shortlisted, and what a truly fabulous time I had. My heartfelt thanks to all concerned.<br /><br />Ooooh,right - now back to reality. Big, big, big sigh....Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-44259655309517311442011-02-11T08:18:00.004+00:002011-02-11T08:47:57.044+00:00TWTAWH Shortlisted for Pure Passion Rom Com Of The Year Award<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2BL3bU46_YJlbdQXZp8hSd_0_eAwJ1nH4CWm-DPTKOAeUrKMoQtQM_IpgRcq7A82_vLoCBTEoTOyoSUPSN3no6EQOQ2ZT8o5e2IzBhQ09mv6Osp82UgNcjjheSIqrqOISDL9JeHJTdI9/s1600/purepassion280.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2BL3bU46_YJlbdQXZp8hSd_0_eAwJ1nH4CWm-DPTKOAeUrKMoQtQM_IpgRcq7A82_vLoCBTEoTOyoSUPSN3no6EQOQ2ZT8o5e2IzBhQ09mv6Osp82UgNcjjheSIqrqOISDL9JeHJTdI9/s320/purepassion280.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572350500099018002" /></a><br />Okay, now I'm not even sure I believe that heading. Still pinching myself, actually. Being longlisted was a dream come true - this is off the scale. Am so thrilled and excited I'm in real danger of becoming a bit of a drama queen/diva. Have skipped and whooped and beamed irritatingly at everyone since I heard the news. Well, WOW is all I can say... <br /><br />Had an amazing day yesterday at the glam and glitzy Champagne Breakfast press launch announcement thingy (see how good I am with words?) - bubbles at 10 a.m. - how decadent is that??? In a swish club in Piccadilly no less. Oh, I loved it! Once the short-lists were officially announced, all the short-listed authors were photographed and filmed - we had to do one-to-one sound bite filmy snippets while smiling and holding our book and saying who we were, what the book was called, how we felt on being shortlisted and what the book was about. Simple, yes? No! Amazing how a man with a video camera can make you forget even the smallest, most familiar fact. I'm sure I wasn't the only person who couldn't remember their name. Or maybe I was...?<br /><br />My face ached from smiling, my stomach ached from all that holding-in, and my head ached from far too much champagne far too early in the day - but it was WONDERFUL!<br /><br />The awards ceremony is on March 7th - and this is where all the giddy excitement will end because I'm a realist and to be longlisted was amazing, to be shortlisted is the greatest thing to happen to me in my Bucolic Frolic career - but also shortlisted for the Rom Com Award are Jill Mansell and Sophie Kinsella. Yep - Rom Com Royalty. I'm just dead chuffed to even be on the same list - but let's be honest - it's like pitting non-league Crawley against Man U in the FA Cup, a moment of reflected glory to be savoured for ever, an event to enjoy without any unrealistic expectations. But I'm a feisty lass, so bring it on is all I can say.<br /><br />Keep reading through previous blog posts when I was battling my way through writing TWTAWH (all that snarling about the title being changed and everything) and wish that I'd known then what I know now. It would have made writing it a whole lot easier if someone had given me a crystal ball...<br /><br />Anyway, today I'm still floating around, beaming and annoying everyone - tomorrow my inner-editor will take over and tell me to get a shift on with Never Can Say Goodbye - but not today. Today is a day for flaunting and preening and stamping my silken slippers and tossing back my ringlets and declaring to anyone who is unfortunate enough to hear me "don't you know who I am?". Yeah, okay - I've tried it with milkman and the paperboy so far and they just gave me a scared look and hurried away - but I live in hope.<br /><br />Shortlisted? Me? Blimey!Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-76455379981040124452011-02-03T11:06:00.002+00:002011-02-03T11:24:55.262+00:00Publication Day!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmYrXQByKd19iZQYoizV3veaGSgkSzh_b-P0qbdNG2OcJZh1JrUG2o1EQgE3CPuWbAJJlCQRTiWTLc0ql5yo7-IyvWGIxCpmHmVauWx_q19F90TXP6sKsODAtoSDUiVWISEgf5sdDLNG2/s1600/way+to+a+wh.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmYrXQByKd19iZQYoizV3veaGSgkSzh_b-P0qbdNG2OcJZh1JrUG2o1EQgE3CPuWbAJJlCQRTiWTLc0ql5yo7-IyvWGIxCpmHmVauWx_q19F90TXP6sKsODAtoSDUiVWISEgf5sdDLNG2/s320/way+to+a+wh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569422546680078594" /></a><br />I'm briefly breaking cover from my extended (thank you!) deadline to share a little bit of cyber champagne and a HUGE whoopee of joy - because today THE WAY TO A WOMAN'S HEART is published in paperback which means it's available in the shops!!!! <br /><br />There were times (as always) when I thought TWTAWH would never be a real book - but it is - and I've just seen it, several of it actually - face out!!!! - in our local W H Smith. I do love the cover - perfect for Valentine's Day. Of course I was still too timid to tell them I wrote it, but I did lurk around the shelves and smile a lot...<br /><br />So - another publication day has arrived. It's been very low-key, but it's the 19th since 1997. Crikey - did I really do all that WORK?????<br /><br />Still, no time to celebrate at the moment - NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE has to be delivered in two weeks. So - as I slink off back to Francesca's Fabulous Frocks - and Frankie and Dexter and Brian from the kebab van and Maisie the useless medium - here's to publication day number 20...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-25504109821610462322011-01-06T07:08:00.004+00:002011-01-06T10:09:14.502+00:00Not Quite How I'd Planned It...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG610BnEAah6BuweF37YmW7L-QT9eTXTGXIy-xUGSJI8UeUK9T3OyrYAgZIVsEvyB2NsrObtmyBwwgcjLRlJE78y9RnCgJbaZWmVZwpWRK4hcMoZmTycLNE9YADAmfq38LasuwFgSuILyB/s1600/Happynewyaer2011.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG610BnEAah6BuweF37YmW7L-QT9eTXTGXIy-xUGSJI8UeUK9T3OyrYAgZIVsEvyB2NsrObtmyBwwgcjLRlJE78y9RnCgJbaZWmVZwpWRK4hcMoZmTycLNE9YADAmfq38LasuwFgSuILyB/s320/Happynewyaer2011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558971343372148450" /></a><br />No, well, I'd intended to post this on New Year's Day (so that the date could be 1/1/11) and wish everyone in Blogland a Happy New Year and be full of festive cheer...<br /><br />But, being me, things didn't go quite to plan, hence my new year greeting being almost a week late... New Year saw me and The Toyboy Trucker snuffling our way between various surgeries and pharmacies - him to get antibiotics for the chest infection left by The Christmas Cold; me to get antibiotics for the sinus infection left by The Christmas Cold; both of us to the vet's with Alexia who had chronic enteritis over Christmas and needed a daily antibiotic injection...<br /><br />Oh, what a jolly little trio we were!<br /><br />And, add to that, the fact that 1) I managed to break two teeth on a cashew nut and 2) I dislocated my knee by balancing on a stool on top of a cushion on top of the sofa (no, not a new party trick) to try to remove a loose garland dangling irritatingly from a corner of the ceiling and then tumbling off in a fat and flustered heap...<br /><br />So, now we're coughing and sniffing and limping and lisping-and-dribbling and feeling damn miserable. Alexia, on the other hand, is fully recovered and can't understand what all the fuss was about.<br /><br />Now I have a little over three weeks to finish Never Can Say Goodbye, so am disappearing into the deep, dark, hellish deadline cave for a while - but belatedly - Happy New Year!Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-11823364501437288222010-12-23T09:57:00.005+00:002010-12-23T10:27:54.163+00:00Romantic Novel of The Year Award - ooh and Happy Christmas!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUyA6TZF20hoRd0juxCF0DEjHNtXt88CtJW2yAbRO_r1063fKQbPR2bPHSpb0RIUpO2sZoZ09SveQVxgoydK7f55_UHOAnK43SzBtEmqEu-09zL6C6a-zHeH6UDNIsJySsmBEuPx8k2_S/s1600/way+to+a+wh.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUyA6TZF20hoRd0juxCF0DEjHNtXt88CtJW2yAbRO_r1063fKQbPR2bPHSpb0RIUpO2sZoZ09SveQVxgoydK7f55_UHOAnK43SzBtEmqEu-09zL6C6a-zHeH6UDNIsJySsmBEuPx8k2_S/s320/way+to+a+wh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553821969490903746" /></a><br />I've just had the best early Christmas present ever - the news that The Way To A Woman's Heart has been long-listed for the prestigious Romantic Novel of The Year Award. Stunned? I'm speechless. The short-list will be announced in February and I'm pretty certain TWTAWH won't be on it (believe me, there are some really big-hitters on that long-list) BUT just to be nominated is absolutely amazing. I've just skimmed back over the blog posts I wrote while - um - crafting TWTAWH and have decided that, with hindsight and a completed book, all that - um - crafting was well worth it in the long run...<br /><br />We've had a weird few weeks - it's all been a bit Hotel Babylon here with our usual influx of pre-festive visitors - and some lovely but disruptive winter weather. One lot of visitors, due to arrive at Southampton airport at 9 a.m. eventually, after several re-routes, ended up at Gatwick at midnight. The Toyboy Trucker who was collecting them spent a hairy day and night battling through snow, ice and freezing fog as he hopefully toured the UK's airports. The restaurant get-together was eventually cancelled at about 11 p.m and we all had weary fish and chips in the early hours and minus 10 degree temperatures.<br /><br />And sadly, my lovely brave one-eyed Maddy cat died suddenly. We were devastated. She'd done so well and had such a happy and lively few months since her operation and had loved being a Diva Cat and spoiled rotten. Her death was as peaceful and gentle as her life - she hadn't shown any signs of being ill at all, and had curled up after her supper on her blanket under her favourite radiator and simply went to sleep. We found her the next morning looking as though she was still sleeping. A fantastic end for her - sheer, total, heartbreaking hell for us. RIP my Mad-Mad Maddy - I'll always love and miss you.<br /><br />So - two days before Christmas, we're still up to our fetlocks in snow here, it looks gorgeously Winter Wonderland outside, The Toyboy Trucker will be home on Christmas Eve, I've packed all the Christmas stockings, and have stopped writing Never Can Say Goodbye until after the festivities. With the other residents of the terrace and Elle and The Doctor we're looking forward to a very happy Christmas and an awful lot of peace on earth.<br /><br />So, Happy Christmas to all Bucolic Frolickers - thank you so much for all your support and brilliant friendship - and I hope you all have the Christmas you've dreamed of.<br /><br />See you next year!Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-76529057737496808642010-11-09T07:51:00.012+00:002010-11-09T09:52:17.928+00:00Rambling<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcS4TY7Dj4VfsAiRPAaX9g7XGvJK2NmsH7VeV-7gLGEXQ0uRyNMO8HZQeK3JifWwVFuwzl91aRZadEyQqe8HYAdsbYaxCquuHFZvjs-kqbCHoEkQLFlQ-rgnTA3ZAuesGMPsP_QcPNe5O3/s1600/confused.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcS4TY7Dj4VfsAiRPAaX9g7XGvJK2NmsH7VeV-7gLGEXQ0uRyNMO8HZQeK3JifWwVFuwzl91aRZadEyQqe8HYAdsbYaxCquuHFZvjs-kqbCHoEkQLFlQ-rgnTA3ZAuesGMPsP_QcPNe5O3/s320/confused.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537484534391668066" /></a><br />That's rambling as in dazed and confused mental meandering - not as in a hearty stride-out across the autumnal countryside - just in case you thought I'd suddenly turned into Ramblers' Champion, Janet "I'm a pensioner you know" Street-Porter.<br /><br />Anyway I'm rambling for two reasons really: one, because I've had a touch of The Thing That's Going Around and still feel a bit muzzy and need to think about something other than my next dose of Lemsip, and two, because I've reached that stage in writing Never Can Say Goodbye where my finger keeps hovering over the "delete the whole damn lot and start again" button and need to be kept away from my 60,000 words plus until the moment has passed...<br /><br />So - a few things that have amused me recently (and all in the name of research - just in case Broo is reading this)...<br /><br />Last week, while shuffling across the estate to our local version of Big Sava via one of the rather pretty little lanes overhung with gloriously tinted trees I watched a very tiny and very elderly man tiptoeing beneath said trees, sprinkling something from a small bag. I smiled to myself at this vision of age-old rural tradition. Bless him, dressed in baggy brown cords and an even baggier beige jumper, he was one of those gentle pink and white marshmallowy old chaps, with pale blue eyes and the sort of stand-up fly-away wispy hair that babies have. He beamed as I approached and offered me the bag with a cheery "Do you like licorice, my dear? Would you like some?" Now, I do like licorice - come on, it's sweet, I like it - but I also remembered my mum's warning of not taking sweets from strangers, so I declined. "That'll mean even more for the squirrels then, my dear," he said, pale blue eyes twinkling kindly. "Oh," I said, even more touched at this demonstration of caring-for-nature, "do squirrels like licorice, then?" The rheumy blue eyes hardened as he cackled, "nah. They hates it. And I hates them. Gives 'em the squits big time -nasty little bastards."<br /><br />And I've been to aqua aerobics. Once. I shan't be going back. Not to mince words here, we - the participants - were lumpen girls, clad in our uniform sturdy M&S black all-in-one-with-tummy-control-panel swimsuits. We stood self-consciously, chest deep, in neat rows in the aquamarine water, trying not to pass out from the heat and chlorine fumes, waiting for Sasha-Marie, the instructor. Beyonce boomed from the sound-system. Several of us cautiously limbered up a bit under water in an attempt to burn more calories or not fall over or both. Then Sasha-Marie, in pink leggings and a vermilion T-shirt, trundled in and stood on the pool edge in front of us. Yes, trundled. Sasha-Marie was h-u-g-e. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm kind of picky about my exercise regime (translate that as I don't have one but if I did I'd want some sort of proof that it worked), and I refuse to be pc here. Sasha-Marie wasn't pleasantly plump or cuddly - she was massive. We looked like collective Kate Mosses by comparison. With no apparent trace of irony, Sasha-Marie clapped her chubby hands and shouted "Right, girls, let's see if we can get rid of some of that porkiness in time for Christmas, shall we?". Five minutes into marching on the spot underwater and clapping our hands above our head at the same time (something I found a little bit tricky because I'm not particularly co-ordinated), we were getting into the swim (see what I did there?) quite nicely, but Sasha-Marie was still fully dressed and on dry land and puffing and panting and turning puce. Another ten minutes and were were slapping our hands together under our knees in time to Cheryl Cole. Sasha-Marie was sitting on a stool and gasping out her instructions in wheezy staccato bursts. By the time the half hour was up, we - looking like the hippo ballerinas in Fantasia - were twirling and kicking and splashing our hands happily on the surface of the pool along with Kylie. Sasha-Marie had been taken outside by the lifeguard. And when I got home I weighed 2lbs more than when I started. Aqua aerobics is not for me... <br /><br />And note to self: when you're next having your hair coloured by someone who trained at A Big London Salon DO NOT say cheerfully "oh, just slap a few tabby stripes in as usual". Colourists from Big London Salons don't slap or do tabby or stripes. They do nuances and hints, and tones and tints, and shades and shimmers, and slivers and slices, and glints and glimmers, and hi-lights and lo-lights, and can have Very Bad Tempers. <br /><br />We have an Old People's Day Centre on the other side of the green. The Toyboy Trucker thinks this is very handy as he reckons I'll be needing it before too long and being so close it won't be too tricky to find me if I wander off. For years we've been used to seeing bus-loads of Seniors (as our council insists we call them) being shunted off to watch the traffic congestion on the A34 or the fights in the entrance to Poundland. However, because the council (like councils everywhere) are having to make swingeing budget cuts, the bus has had to go. Now the Seniors are shepherded together in little groups with a minder to participate in activities on the green. The Teddy Bears' Picnic was a great success. Not so the litter-picking. Well, you give a lot of disgruntled pensioners-with-attitude pointy sticks and a plastic bag and you're asking for trouble, in my opinion. By the end they had more paramedics in attendance than there were at our wedding reception (another story for another blog post - maybe). This week they've borrowed someone from our FE college to teach them Tai Chi. On the green. In the wind and rain. I'm sorry, but I laughed. Thirty or so cold and wet Seniors, in a collection of puffa jackets, anoraks, hats, scarves and zip-up bootees striking poses (and each other) was like one of the more surreal episodes of Monty Python. Oh, and another thing - when I walked past the day centre yesterday they were having a sing-song. Merry melodies from their youth. Tunes from the War Years. Roll Out the Barrel and It's a Long Way to Tipperary et al. But surely, most of today's Seniors were yesterday's hippies and rock-children? Shouldn't they be boogieing along to the Stones and Led Zep?<br /><br />Oh, goody - now it's time for my next Lempsip. And when I've had that, I might just have a look at the "delete the whole damn lot and start again" button...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-67667731055529374112010-10-24T09:49:00.006+01:002010-10-25T11:41:43.385+01:00Rebecca In The Scout Hut<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uptMu_M0fhfLE4dCY4selDR_LFYASsrVbG1jI0PtoXKzjzjZMjrJgd0by53FmOCvdMzwaSsEuzv3IpP2HeriU0AqrDtsrWh-7bYm-tSUwSEO6VPJpoDbxkByAPXDQdSZ1KVryjHP0tkD/s1600/manderley.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uptMu_M0fhfLE4dCY4selDR_LFYASsrVbG1jI0PtoXKzjzjZMjrJgd0by53FmOCvdMzwaSsEuzv3IpP2HeriU0AqrDtsrWh-7bYm-tSUwSEO6VPJpoDbxkByAPXDQdSZ1KVryjHP0tkD/s320/manderley.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531893570079284306" /></a><br />It was much as expected. A full house (we don't get much in the way of entertainment on the estate since Fiery Dave and his souped-up wheel-spinning Subaru moved, thanks to the petition and umpteen Asbos, to East Kilbride), uncomfortable chairs pinched from the Mixed Infants, intermittent lighting, and a biting wind through the window that never got mended after the Brownies had a bit of a fracas during last Easter's performance of Riverdance. Still, we were all there, in the scout hut, more in hope than expectation (as always) and we weren't disappointed.<br /><br />The am-drammers had copped out (in my opinion) on the settings and used the backdrops from last year's panto (Jack and the Beanstalk). Therefore, Manderley (interior and exterior) was the giant's castle, the South of France was the market square minus The Village Children but sadly still plus the painted-on cow, and the Gothic atmosphere (such as it was) was provided by the lights being turned on and off very quickly backstage. Well, until the moment they all fused, then - until they were fixed - it was down to three people with torches aided by several rows of the audience who, remembering that ill-fated coach trip to see Barry Manilow at Blenheim Palace, held their lighters aloft.<br /><br />Avis from the Co-op was The Second Mrs de Winter. As Avis is 53 and - given her build and incipient moustache - had been the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk, she wasn't that convincing as a frail and nervous child-bride, but her twin-set and tweed skirt were lovely. It was slightly disturbing that Maxim was played by Larry the postman. Now, there's nothing wrong with Larry and he can act his socks off when he puts his mind to it, but Avis is his mum - so you see the problem. We all tried to suspend disbelief and any squeamishness, but it tested even the most ardent theatre-goer at times.<br /><br />The am-drammers are a small group, therefore there was the usual doubling-up of roles. Mrs Danvers (played with terrifying authenticity by the vicar's wife, leading us to discuss in the intermission - egg sandwiches with concrete crusts and polystyrene beakers of tepid tea - just exactly what home-life was like in the vicarage) was also Bee and, after lots of muttering and rustling and quick-changes of jacket/hat/beard in the wings, Sid Newman from the garden centre became Jack Favell,Frank Crawley, Frith <em>and</em> Giles. Any scenes that involved more than one of these characters were relegated to off-stage conversations aided and abetted by Gorgeous George (a nickname given with full rustic irony) from the garage who was the narrator. A narrator, we all felt, was essential, given the gaping gaps in the script.<br /><br />Jasper (Avis's elderly Jack Russell was substituted for the springer spaniel of the original) made several impromptu appearances. Usually when he wasn't required. And eventually he went to sleep in the middle of the stage, snoring loudly, and no-one could shift him so everyone just stepped round him. Except Avis during one of her most wither-wringing scenes when she tripped over him and uttered a line of such eye-watering profanity that Dame Daphne must have groaned in her grave.<br /><br />We were all, it must be said, really waiting for the burning of Manderley. It was well worth the wait. As we held our collective breath in a frenzy of anticipation, noises-off provided, by way of Gorgeous George rustling aluminium foil and blowing-across-the-tops-of-bottles (we could see this operation taking place so it did somewhat dilute the artistic tension), a lot of crackling and roaring, followed by the smoke machine, which was fairly impressive. I say only fairly as unfortunately the copious billows of thick grey vapour were caught in the draught from the Brownies broken window and rolled, like a Victorian pea-souper, away from Manderley/Giant's Castle and the stage generally and wafted across the audience. As the first four rows disappeared in the murk, everyone nostalgically agreed that it was just like being in the snug of the Weasel and Bucket before the smoking ban. Happy days!<br /><br />Once the fog had cleared and someone had woken Jasper, and the vicar's wife (aka Mrs Danvers at that point) had stopped screaming, the am-drammers took their bows and got three curtain-calls (there weren't any curtains but you get the idea). Then we all tidied our chairs and beakers away, and as we filed outside into night the general consensus was that Rebecca in the Scout Hut had been a resounding success.<br /><br />Their next production will be the Christmas panto of course (Goldilocks this year - we're all assuming Avis will be taking the title role and stretching the imagination even further and that possibly all three bears will be played by Larry) and then, frighteningly, they're going to be tackling Ben Hur.<br /><br />I will be reviewing it here. Maybe...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-27315446194668901292010-10-13T08:53:00.003+01:002010-10-13T09:49:15.600+01:00Bugger - I Didn't Win The Booker...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxwVWJdhWzmJpuvnEnvtekf_YcEdaHarRwrX7UIX7xNiry4fxErBXITOZMN6C2aPJsMSVA55gxKyZGRB7ko5G8uAmXXpXVec9T639FtYXIDUd3UCujtNY60kBsyWPDXkzvlLZU9ikcvFT/s1600/43%2520The%2520Finkler%2520Question-0.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxwVWJdhWzmJpuvnEnvtekf_YcEdaHarRwrX7UIX7xNiry4fxErBXITOZMN6C2aPJsMSVA55gxKyZGRB7ko5G8uAmXXpXVec9T639FtYXIDUd3UCujtNY60kBsyWPDXkzvlLZU9ikcvFT/s320/43%2520The%2520Finkler%2520Question-0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527449019524462306" /></a><br />Well, not that I expected to of course, not being short-listed or even long-listed or even in contention at any stage or anything because I'm not even a smidgen literary. However, I was very chuffed when one of those intense and scary-looking telly arts' commentators said that this year's winner - Howard Jacobson's The Finkler Question - was a comic novel and indicated a move away from serious to humorous, from high-brow to middle-brow. Oooh, I thought - one more brow down and there's hope for me and the rest of the Rom-Commers yet. But, sadly, it seems not...<br /><br />Now, I haven't read The Finkler Question (I've never read anything either long or short listed for the Booker because I'm a pleb), but the little bit I heard being read out last night didn't make me chortle. I actually didn't really understand it... which means, I suppose, that it must be really, really good. And Howard Jacobson showed a great sense of fun (I thought) when he said he'd spend the £50,000 (gulp) prize money on a handbag for his wife with a wry "have you seen the price of handbags?".<br /><br />However, while I was having a little happy moment about The Man Booker sliding ever so slowly towards people of my limited brain-power, Andrew Motion (chair of judges) sodded it up by describing The Finkler Question as "laugh-out-loud funny but so nearly adjacent to tragedy" and "very sad, melancholic, laughter in the dark..." and then Mr Jacobson himself compounded my deepest fears by saying his novel wasn't "easy-peasy and middle-brow because it's comic. It's much cleverer and more complicated and about much more difficult things..."<br /><br />Ah, well - many congrats to Howard Jacobson - but I have a feeling that Brian from the kebab van and Maisie the Useless Medium won't be troubling the Booker judges for a while yet...<br /><br />And - while on the subject of literary fiction - I listened to the first ever Radio 2 Book Club reviews on Monday evening. This time the book chosen was Mr Chartwell - a first-time novel about depression and Winston Churchill and a widowed librarian set over 5 days in the summer of 1964. Mr Chartwell - who has a massive viewpoint role apparently (haven't read this one either because I'm a pleb) - is a giant black dog (black dog equalling depression which is the theme of the novel)... Ooooh, I thought, how many times have I been told that having an animal narrator is a huge no-no - things must be soooo different in Lit Fic Land. The author sounded very young and very happy and has been given a very pleasing advance - which is wonderful for her - but several reviewers said while they loved her descriptions they couldn't understand some of her complex sentences and had to re-read them several times to get the gist... Now, in Commercial Fiction Land that would earn you a sharp editorial rap on the knuckles and a severe editing session...<br /><br />Oh, well - it's back to the keyboard and baby-easy sentences and Brian from the kebab van and words of one syllable for me...<br /><br />Oh - and while out yesterday, I saw this notice in the window of The Eight 'til Late:<br />"Fitzharry's Am Dram Society proudly present Rebbecca by Daphne Du Maurier, unabridged, for three nights, in the Scout Hut". <br /><br />The burning of Manderley???? The scenes in the south of France??? The costume ball??? Rebecca's boat on stormy seas???? In the <em>Scout Hut</em>????? <br /><br />I've bought tickets.Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-37440300919273568602010-10-07T08:42:00.008+01:002010-10-07T10:04:22.035+01:00Champagne at 38,000 Feet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNH8j1dMq-QE1Uw5zdzhEZ9DHgOzeUxLUV_t89YfOgnNKcsXxyIc2wT2So11hr1zUhtug8a_Z4rN-eZMNe2KVz_SgCDLzsOUM1jjeC1eHhpsE3TbDZ9gY2_F2VLrR1nRRfTGd2I2f70Wsc/s1600/champonplane.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNH8j1dMq-QE1Uw5zdzhEZ9DHgOzeUxLUV_t89YfOgnNKcsXxyIc2wT2So11hr1zUhtug8a_Z4rN-eZMNe2KVz_SgCDLzsOUM1jjeC1eHhpsE3TbDZ9gY2_F2VLrR1nRRfTGd2I2f70Wsc/s320/champonplane.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525226554495503378" /></a><br />Last Sunday it was my birthday (I'm now VERY old) - and thank you so much to everyone who sent greetings and then obviously thought I was a mardy mare for not replying - but I was celebrating it with champagne and The Toyboy Trucker and 300+ other people somewhere dizzily high in the sky above the Alps en route to Cyprus. How decadent was that??? Actually, it was just wonderful. Perfect. I cried with happiness (I cry VERY easily) when I found out about it. Cyprus was my surprise birthday present from TTT, Elle and The Doctor and I LOVED it. Had never been before and will go back as soon as poss. We left the UK early on my birthday morning with temperatures in single figures and a cutting northerly wind howling across a bleak sky - and landed 4 hours later in 35+ degrees of non-stop sunshine. It was one of the most blissful weeks of my life... <br /><br />But now I'm back, feet firmly on the ground, shivering and WORKING. Well, I'm trying. The new book (Never Can Say Goodbye) is still going okay. It seems to be like Going the Distance and Hubble Bubble in the way it's kind of unfolding itself easily as I go along. Strangely (because I still have absolutely no idea how my books ever come into being, or how I write them, or why it seems natural to me to have this entire cast of REAL people living inside my head) my books don't follow the same pattern. Some like this one (so far) sort of write themselves, others need a lot more concentration and - er - work.<br /><br />My early Orion books seemed to gush out with no problems (but then I was still all starry-eyed about being published and everything was all lovely and shiny and new), then the HarperCollins ones were much bigger and more complex and layered and therefore took longer and I had to make sure that all the ends tied up and all the sub-plots reached a conclusion as well as the main story thread. And since then, the Piatkus/Little,Brown ones have been a mix of the two. Love Potions gave me all sorts of headaches (mainly because when the title was changed from Flower Power {considered too hippie} I realised I hadn't actually got any love potions in it and had to go back and slot them in); Heaven Sent was far too short but I'd told the story and anything else would have been padding; Happy Birthday was too long (in my opinion) and probably should have been two books...<br /><br />And The Way To A Woman's Heart....??? Well, once I'd stopped being a diva-bitch-from-hell author and got over it no longer being called Midnight Feast, and accepted that Sunny (heroine) was now called Ella, and that it had to be a longer, meatier story (sorry, bit of a pun as it's about cookery) with a bigger cast of characters, less obvious practical magic and more grounded reality but still series-linked to the previous books - oh, and amusing, I finally knuckled down and just did it.<br /><br />I suppose, as a writer, that's what it's all about really - just doing it. No-one else is going to. Sadly, it's taken me years to realise that! Much as there were many, many mornings when I'd switch on the computer and hope that the Tailor of Gloucester's mice had written several thousand words of The Way To A Woman's Heart overnight, eventually I accepted that if I didn't do it then it would never be finished. Weird though how the changing of the title and the heroine's name made it the most difficult book I've ever written. Still, it's done, I'm happy with it - and hopefully the slog/sweat/angst/difficult-author-tantrums won't show...<br /><br />Never Can Say Goodbye (and that <em>is</em> going to be the title - they've had the discussion about maybe changing it to something else and happily decided to stick with my "let's get away from the cutesy magicky titles" title - so that's one hurdle - um - hurdled) is developing into a completely different book. The magic is slightly more - um - spooky. The characters are more eccentric (as in Brian from the kebab van and Maisie the Useless Medium). The situations more down-to-earth - well, in a sort of off-the-wall way. And much as I thought that after actually having to "work" on The Way To A Woman's Heart (I really hate work!) I'd never find my mo-jo or my writing joi-de-vivre again, so far I'm having fun with it. Which is just as well as it has to be finished by Christmas. Erk! <br /><br />Blimey! This post is almost writerly. Still, the next one won't be as I've got to blog about total rubbish. Even more total rubbish than usual because our local council has just ventured into the multi-wheely-bin-refuse-disposal-system and you wouldn't believe the uproar this has caused in the terrace... FIVE wheely bins, all different colours, all for different things, all collected on different days... It's causing anarchy here, I can tell you. Anarchy.<br /><br />Oh, and tonight I'm going to the theatre again with The Toyboy Trucker - but this time to see Frankie Boyle - so probably this is not going to be a repeat of the erudite cerebral Stephen Fry experience... Can't wait!Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-29896766882741844342010-09-21T08:59:00.010+01:002010-09-21T11:16:30.446+01:00Why Can't I Be Stephen Fry???????<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1L95rtSMkW-vgSfTWFDiUuyGbrJ8Jkqm8aQoeDYTd7NoFUvCATBMzN1nqMhISURtBJNcn-wsxQxgNY3q3aTHsCaqnf1DYqswVSQ0LFWVXGnAZuzwMd2C85V7wfDzRzBsMgaLppqvuMKfW/s1600/VIPs_After_the_Event.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1L95rtSMkW-vgSfTWFDiUuyGbrJ8Jkqm8aQoeDYTd7NoFUvCATBMzN1nqMhISURtBJNcn-wsxQxgNY3q3aTHsCaqnf1DYqswVSQ0LFWVXGnAZuzwMd2C85V7wfDzRzBsMgaLppqvuMKfW/s320/VIPs_After_the_Event.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519295990734742354" /></a><br />We went to see Stephen Fry on Saturday. That is we went to see him at the theatre - we didn't pop round to his for tea or anything. I like Stephen Fry: I love him on QI, he's a great actor, a clever mimic, and I am in awe of his brain, his wealth of knowledge and his wonderful use of words. This theatre performance was to promo part two of his autobiography - so it was Stephen talking about the early and middle chunk of his life. Did I enjoy it? Yes, most of it - although being honest, some of it was way too elitist for me - but then I'm definitely a pleb. Stephen was warm and garrulous and rambling and told several lengthy and intricate tales about how he was a lost cause in his youth and sort of stumbled into stardom. Sadly, because I'm the aforementioned pleb, some of it was just a touch too luvvie for me. However, the man is without doubt a genius. <br /><br />But the whole thing was ruined because I got the nutter sitting next to me...<br /><br />You know how you <em>always</em> get them on a bus or a train? It isn't just me, is it? Oh, right... Well, anyway, on Saturday night I got the theatre equivalent. There was one empty seat next to me in a sell-out full house. And, just before curtain up, in he came. Bustling along the row, treading on toes, all multi-patterned jumper, cagoule, and haversack. As the lights dimmed, he dumped the haversack and rushed down to the front of the stalls, stood on tiptoe and peered on to the stage. Then he cantered back, threw himself down beside me and said excitedly "I can see him in the wings! He's ready to come on!"<br /><br />I smiled weakly and edged further away - difficult in theatre seats. He leaned towards me. "I saw him in Cambridge last night and Norwich the night before and tomorrow I'll see him in London!"<br /><br />Oh, great. I'd got a Stephen Fry groupie...<br /><br />Fortunately, Stephen made his entrance then, and Mr Groupie was on his feet whooping and hollering. I shrank down in my seat as everyone turned to stare at us. The Toyboy Trucker, safely out of the spotlight on the other side of me, laughed. A lot. Anyway, once Stephen got going, Mr Groupie, who clearly hadn't wasted his time on the tour, loudly spoke every line along with him, albeit slightly out of sync. It was like having a slightly bizarre echo. Mercifully this came to an end when Mr Groupie burrowed into his haversack and brought out his sandwiches and flask of coffee. Generously he offered me a sardine and tomato. I declined. And by this time The Toyboy Trucker was, naturally, doubled up...<br /><br />Maybe it was the stench of the sardine sandwiches, but I was getting pretty tetchy. So, when Stephen said that as a writer he was arrogant because all writers are arrogant I wanted to yell WRONG! I was absolutely itching to leap up and say WRONG, WRONG, WRONG - but, given that thanks to Mr Groupie our row was already the centre of attention and The Toyboy Trucker was giving me One Of Those Looks, I didn't. I just sat and simmered and tried to ignore the pungency of the sardines.<br /><br />Then, just to add to my irritation, Stephen announced that the entire tour had been organised by his publishers (Penguin) to promote his latest book - and that after his hour and a half on stage he'd be doing a book selling-and-signing session in the theatre.<br /><br />Well! Fancy that! Stephen Fry gets a publisher-paid tour of theatres - a sell-out nationwide tour of theatres seating thousands - and I get the local book shop if I'm lucky. Stephen Fry has queues and queues of hundreds of people winding for miles round our major cities, I get a few friends and people sheltering from the rain or waiting for the next bus to Kingston Dapple. Now I wonder why that is? And why, oh why, can't I be Stephen Fry?<br /><br />Sadly, my book-signings always remind me of the days when I travelled with my Dad, the fairground organ and traction engine to do shows in remote rural locations. I've lost count of the times that Dad used to peer out on a bleak field with the rain falling horizontally in a force ten gale and say (in pre-PC days) - "good crowd tonight - three paraplegics and a daft bloke with a dog"... because it seemed that at every country fayre we attended, all the minders used to dump their charges in front of the organ with a cheerful "Never mind a bit of rain...let's park you here! Oooh, look at the pretty lights! Listen to the pretty music!" before sodding off to the beer tent...<br /><br />And then I'd trundle on and dance the can-can in a monsoon to a less-than-impressed audience. Actually, it's funny with hindsight, just how much of my early life could have been lifted straight out of Cher's <em>Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves</em>...<br /><br />Anyway, those less-than-packed performance days are EXACTLY like my book signings - except of course that I don't dance the can-can any more - maybe I should....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8w7WCj_4AC35CaD1adgYrFksiJ9SC3I-Ps4ri2RaOIS1e1ILUe69HjUFA1w3uVgI28N2NLdLGaBUZeFzoIaPqlvJFiXey4O4BSz-7eNGaC9SgPSgFdVz70YKPVTaR-tXMTlUVQBWIKA58/s1600/2010+WNews+panel2+026.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8w7WCj_4AC35CaD1adgYrFksiJ9SC3I-Ps4ri2RaOIS1e1ILUe69HjUFA1w3uVgI28N2NLdLGaBUZeFzoIaPqlvJFiXey4O4BSz-7eNGaC9SgPSgFdVz70YKPVTaR-tXMTlUVQBWIKA58/s320/2010+WNews+panel2+026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519295516310681010" /></a>So - the picture at the top of the post is Stephen's very crowded book-signing and this one is mine.... Spot the difference???????????????Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-49694565382705163212010-09-15T09:02:00.006+01:002010-09-16T08:28:29.268+01:00Sweet Dreams<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LcutuBcYCHzg20pl8g1Yxhy47MFSKQ2DUcT4kPd27mIBG9Y_fbALLwa8BA-XkD32RD2mVXwlXYDCvNil5yNbrEP1-HBmTCOJMmt4-1vMJCIsCp3opM9lSoKdRGm8mIKpgxzBvfGyWN_U/s1600/bedroom.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LcutuBcYCHzg20pl8g1Yxhy47MFSKQ2DUcT4kPd27mIBG9Y_fbALLwa8BA-XkD32RD2mVXwlXYDCvNil5yNbrEP1-HBmTCOJMmt4-1vMJCIsCp3opM9lSoKdRGm8mIKpgxzBvfGyWN_U/s320/bedroom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517065265566795618" /></a><br />This is my dream bedroom. Sadly, it isn't how my real bedroom looks. It isn't how my real bedroom has ever (or will ever) look because The Toyboy Trucker would leave me. It is, however, exactly how my new heroine's bedroom looks and I'm dead jealous. New heroine (Francesca, known as Frankie) in Never Can Say Goodbye, is a girl after my own heart who loves colour and clutter and all things retro - which is why she's running a vintage frock shop and dresses like a bag-lady and has a tart's boudoir bedroom... I can only claim one of these...<br /><br />Anyway, because I've been obsessed by bedrooms lately, I thought I'd mention Frankie's and blog about mine. It's still not finished. It's been well over a month now and it still looks like a shed... Why, in the name of all that's holy, we ever got into this mess, I still can't quite understand.<br /><br />It all started when The Toyboy Trucker decided he'd like a telly in the bedroom. I'm anti telly-in-the-bedroom for all sorts of reasons - main one being The Toyboy Trucker falling asleep with something loud and violent blaring out and me having to stuff my ears from the explosions and screams and avert my eyes from the blood and gore and eventually having to stumble from the cosiness of the bed to switch the damn thing off. The Toyboy Trucker convinced me that we've moved on technologically since 1987 and he'd have a remote control and headphones and I'd never notice it...<br /><br />So, I gave in, and said okay - we'll have a telly in the bedroom... The Toyboy Trucker excitedly bought one - all flat-screen and DVD-playing-and-recording etc etc - and that's honestly where it all started. Because we quickly discovered we actually hadn't got anywhere to put a telly. We had one socket and a bedroom full of old brown furniture - lots of dressing tables and chests - that had belonged to my Nan. And none of them were in the right place for a telly, and they were all crumbly and rickety and decrepit to boot. And the walls wouldn't support a bracket because they were covered in pictures and lots of disintegrating 1970s wardrobes... So, it was decided - all for the sake of a damn telly - that we'd have a bedroom make-over. We'd ditch the mis-matched clutter and, despite my private yearning for a purple and pink girly glory-hole, have something pale and plain and pristine.<br /><br />It all sounded so easy. We measured the room. Men from the furniture shop measured the room. All the measurements tallied. We chose an entire range of pale beech furniture, hand-built, and made-to-measure. In Germany. We were going to have a bank of wardrobes at one end of the room, including a walk-in, and lots of new matching chests, and one of those over-the-bed-and down-the-sides contraptions incorporating masses of cupboards and shelves and little twinkly hidden lights. Men-in-shorts were brought in to remove all the old stuff and decorate the room in a nice tasteful cream and rewire the bedroom to enable us to have a telly.<br /><br />The new furniture arrived. Thirty boxes of it. The delivery men chuckled as they hefted it upstairs. As soon as they'd left I understood why. Most of it was self-assembly, very little of it was labelled, and the instructions were in German...<br /><br />I'll gloss over the August Bank Holiday weekend. Tempers, it must be said, were frayed... By the Monday night we were no longer speaking but we'd got two-and-half wardrobes built; the walk-in wasn't built or even slightly walk-in because we had two left sides and no right one (it's going to take another 6 weeks to get a replacement); the drawers didn't fit the chests - and funniest of all (okay, not at the time - but with hindsight....) was the fact that the over-the-bed contraption didn't fit bloody anywhere... The measurements had been taken across the middle of the room. No-one had taken into account that a) there were big chunky skirting boards at the bottom and b) this house is 70 years old and the walls aren't exactly even...<br /><br />Men-in-shorts were recalled to do what they could. Suffice it to say they had to remove part of a wall. It took three days to burrow through plaster and bricks and breeze blocks. The upstairs looked like Beirut, we were all coughing and spluttering and sort of permanently grey, and the lovely fresh cream decor was covered in dust and rubble... Oh, and we'd got a kind of knock-through effect into the spare room. Still, the over-the-bed thing eventually fitted - even if we're now sleeping at a rather odd angle, the bookshelves slope like they're starring in the final throes of the Titanic, and the little twinkly lights are somewhat intermittent.<br /><br />Of course, because the wardrobe cluster (that's how it was described - honest) isn't finished owing to the lack of right-side-of-walk-in, most of our clothes are in bin liners and suitcases. I'm still picking brick rubble out of the cats and from between my toes. The bedroom looks like a bomb site - albeit a nice cream one.<br /><br />And the thing that started all this? The telly? Still in its box until such time as the bedroom is finished, which, as far as I can tell, *might* just be before the start of the 2012 Olympics...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-13829714665210119922010-08-17T08:45:00.005+01:002010-08-17T09:52:04.109+01:00Unaccustomed As I Am....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYz9UMcPzBjhqDRo-nbxJhNbdfArVc-MlpK_psnRG3A7E-ZA-9H1y8HmcUXAgDMbRsWXskiMzn7Dvyg6kbvOpfRjaVpqJgnfkEtiTJvuc8VfrLzpbAng3g-M231c_cOVltmRubz7PDfM5r/s1600/swanwick.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYz9UMcPzBjhqDRo-nbxJhNbdfArVc-MlpK_psnRG3A7E-ZA-9H1y8HmcUXAgDMbRsWXskiMzn7Dvyg6kbvOpfRjaVpqJgnfkEtiTJvuc8VfrLzpbAng3g-M231c_cOVltmRubz7PDfM5r/s320/swanwick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506298262652783858" /></a><br />Just back from staying at Swanwick Summer Writing School where I was an after-dinner speaker! That was a first for me - well, two firsts really. I've never been to Swanwick before and I've certainly never been an after-dinner speaker. Think they were VERY brave to ask me...<br /><br />Swanwick is amazing! What a fabulous place! What elegant surroundings! What incredible food and hospitality! And such fantastic, enthusiastic and completely crazy people... THANK YOU to everyone - especially Xanthe and Joyce and Fiona and Ann and Roy who invited me and looked after me brilliantly and made me laugh all the time, and to Fliss and Jan for suggesting I'd be a good speaker (are you insane???), and to Della for everything, and to everyone else who made me feel as though I belonged from the moment I arrived and who will now always be good friends.<br /><br />Mind you, if I'd known that the after-dinner speaking involved being in a theatre, on stage, with a microphone and an audience of hundreds I'd have turned tail and fled back down the motorway - but as it was, like the proverbial lamb, I trotted happily into it without having a clue what I was doing. Par for the course, I know. <br /><br />I'd written a speech. I'd practised it over and over again to the Toyboy Trucker and the cats who were all fairly unimpressed. It lasted 30 minutes. I had an hour - a whole HOUR - on stage... And, I'd torn my speech up because it was rubbish and just had a few scribbled notes... Still, I thought as I gazed nervously at my cheerfully expectant audience, I'll never have to see any of them again...<br /><br />In my new-from-the-market long frock and B-I-G ear-rings I took a deep breath and trying not to meet anyone's eyes in case I spotted boredom, sleep or even death, I just launched myself into the story of how I started writing, the ups and downs, the ins and outs, the good times and the bad. Oh, and I told everyone about my life, and about the neighbours and about the cats and just anything else I could trawl from the depths of what was left of my brain. <br /><br />Mercifully, they were a brilliant audience and they laughed at the first sentence and carried on laughing, and the more they laughed the more indiscreet I became until they were chuckling all the time and I'd convinced myself that a career as a stand-up beckoned. The hour simply flew by. I answered all sorts of questions and told more tall tales (actually true stories, but even to me some parts of my life sound pretty impossible) and incredibly got a standing ovation.<br /><br />Now, I'm ashamed to say, this all went to my head a bit. Afterwards, having signed and sold loads and loads of books and been congratulated on being funny a lot, I practically preened and flounced. I was an inch away from snapping my fingers and throwing back my hair and demanding roast swan and the finest champagne. Happily, because I'm a vegetarian and only drink beer, it didn't quite come to that. But almost. As I clutched my pint and my cigarette and skipped round Swanwick's glorious grounds in the moonlight, I was very nearly getting above myself.<br /><br />Thankfully The Toyboy Trucker brought me down to earth with a "your bra straps are showing, you've got lipstick on your teeth, your hair looks all funny and you've lost an ear-ring - you look like you've been in a brawl". <br /><br />Now I'm home again, all diva-ness forgotten, and as is the way of my life, the TWTAWH proofs have arrived in Pdf format and have to be done online and returned by Thursday and we're having the bedroom renovated (posh way of saying the 1970s built-in crap wardrobes are being pulled out and the one measly electric socket is being - er - extended and the funny little wash-basin thing in the corner is being turned into something altogether more swish) which means intermittent electricity so I really ought to get on with them... Have to say that even after severe editing, TWTAWH is still standing at 455 pages!!! 455!!! That's almost War and Peace! I've got to proof-read War and Peace!!!! Aaargh!!!!Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457140200247424636.post-54003017257995465342010-07-31T11:04:00.038+01:002010-07-31T12:29:48.932+01:00A Month Of Madness<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnghVQ07e5OnlWTLh1FjdrZj1_0rOY6FRPZf61JcAe7Vp4IzMdRYz8ajYM8zcmxI7390y_Ne35wdH681HAUbMCZ3BCYjM6X-yK4QQvjfzlhlg8annEHotZszEW-xVyHJQLWPFHMG4j8oO/s1600/way+to+a+wh.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnghVQ07e5OnlWTLh1FjdrZj1_0rOY6FRPZf61JcAe7Vp4IzMdRYz8ajYM8zcmxI7390y_Ne35wdH681HAUbMCZ3BCYjM6X-yK4QQvjfzlhlg8annEHotZszEW-xVyHJQLWPFHMG4j8oO/s320/way+to+a+wh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500016416145384258" /></a><br />Having got wildly excited over finishing this - THE WAY TO A WOMAN'S HEART (note my huge self control in not even mentioning Midnight Feast...) - I have unashamedly skived for the last month. Well, sort of...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I've actually been here for a few days and given a talk or two at the Lit Fest and had a truly brilliant time - what an amazingly friendly city Middlesbrough is! Thank you to everyone who came along and was so lovely....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkTGGDcmwOKTY7stzwKL7KTG5RELLrBmNBdO4fsdqVFJdBzhFS_KQ5f_KvZQZ4jdXEwrB4pNQD6S1b46xCvI4yJocOUy5Gu-4M_joBBfOlAWpcoCGrrsvZ77tOE1fxmxMU9aeIH7sVFSw/s1600/litfest2010.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 106px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkTGGDcmwOKTY7stzwKL7KTG5RELLrBmNBdO4fsdqVFJdBzhFS_KQ5f_KvZQZ4jdXEwrB4pNQD6S1b46xCvI4yJocOUy5Gu-4M_joBBfOlAWpcoCGrrsvZ77tOE1fxmxMU9aeIH7sVFSw/s320/litfest2010.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500017770535989538" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And here for the weekend... (I do so love a gut-quivering jet engine roar or twenty...) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51Pobq6YqyZh8gwSfznMWgvl6R5LAxXRTVnJrM7FV2fK8ZVe5LsDea9sRsdebfqJFXJ4PJA_iUZEjsEh5aE0n9AZpBSeQs2quN5Dh8K1gXAPhsGeQs6iXb0yPNBP8pMVyYhPEL8dwWRlt/s1600/raf_fairford_air_tattoo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51Pobq6YqyZh8gwSfznMWgvl6R5LAxXRTVnJrM7FV2fK8ZVe5LsDea9sRsdebfqJFXJ4PJA_iUZEjsEh5aE0n9AZpBSeQs2quN5Dh8K1gXAPhsGeQs6iXb0yPNBP8pMVyYhPEL8dwWRlt/s320/raf_fairford_air_tattoo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500017164799297570" /></a> <br /><br /><br /><br />And here... where I also gave a talk (and giggled a lot) and met up with my lovely, glamorous and really good friend Jane and had a wonderful evening even if the local paper managed to get ALL the facts wrong! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4bLQXIpCkEOdCmwvgDpJ4HzKCjJ2uDAcvFOJM6vJPZN5CbVtnvzB3OKRfLN2bpbfmHtEsFbJphN_HZH-KF2k2QV6AtZhyBMLPjb7mqIcI-5OQ7zl9rQuZnaO3AbySek-4By9OU8HKTCP/s1600/Chrissie+press+Crowthorne+Library+May+2010+%26+Pete+Passport+pics+001.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4bLQXIpCkEOdCmwvgDpJ4HzKCjJ2uDAcvFOJM6vJPZN5CbVtnvzB3OKRfLN2bpbfmHtEsFbJphN_HZH-KF2k2QV6AtZhyBMLPjb7mqIcI-5OQ7zl9rQuZnaO3AbySek-4By9OU8HKTCP/s320/Chrissie+press+Crowthorne+Library+May+2010+%26+Pete+Passport+pics+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500017619328387602" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupiS88q032ev1NZNSDT5rFjDCwJEfeUJYV-UAWCMLWIeRDueFC2BFo7uwhNtOtwxb7eDInux5jsz53VNnriGyN1_4ochnvnS7xOnV7fsK966J-U_zowfaYR7B2FxwFdkxmfwm_wS1MWCO/s1600/GS.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupiS88q032ev1NZNSDT5rFjDCwJEfeUJYV-UAWCMLWIeRDueFC2BFo7uwhNtOtwxb7eDInux5jsz53VNnriGyN1_4ochnvnS7xOnV7fsK966J-U_zowfaYR7B2FxwFdkxmfwm_wS1MWCO/s320/GS.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500024990135884274" /></a> And here with The Toyboy Trucker for some much needed R&R - not to mention alcohol and food and far, far too much ice-cream...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNOL6t5bvGisS2cTgg2E0mJ9BxUdHhHQOj26bwN0nWFf1eCjad8b-1C1z_4g2_2yytSeZdg1iUg770-PNfh4lBl6pWbTd9sPXCSIObJ-W6Ouy4szEWhW7YFhhzrYnULRjdisACJrNhFwc/s1600/JR.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNOL6t5bvGisS2cTgg2E0mJ9BxUdHhHQOj26bwN0nWFf1eCjad8b-1C1z_4g2_2yytSeZdg1iUg770-PNfh4lBl6pWbTd9sPXCSIObJ-W6Ouy4szEWhW7YFhhzrYnULRjdisACJrNhFwc/s320/JR.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500017928217672034" /></a><br /><br />Oh, and here because my recurring conjunctivitis isn't - it's blepharitis which is totally different and has a completely different treatment and I'm really happy now because I can see!!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And most excitingly of all - here.... <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATSTtRfvsSgiAy0CvV_WO6h1zWH9-DdJn9Ad5p1BQSk-qc33Dz1LpjvaUFaXqH-nhkytZTWeITBAAJcoAGGqQUEH5eo3-h3IKkO4H7OoqpvERDrGLa2MMy-NgiffFAv6DQ9Eb4EMAG1Rq/s1600/shed.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATSTtRfvsSgiAy0CvV_WO6h1zWH9-DdJn9Ad5p1BQSk-qc33Dz1LpjvaUFaXqH-nhkytZTWeITBAAJcoAGGqQUEH5eo3-h3IKkO4H7OoqpvERDrGLa2MMy-NgiffFAv6DQ9Eb4EMAG1Rq/s320/shed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500018131200413442" /></a><br />And this was like walking on to a film set! Having seen the pictures and heard all about Debs' fabulous shed for so long, to actually <em>be there </em> was almost overwhelming. It's amazing! And gorgeous! And pretty! And I WANT ONE!!!! Thanks so much Debs (and Grumpy, for allowing me over the portals) - it was simply brilliant.<br /><br /><br /><br />I've also written five short stories - and sent them...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivz7i8fZM6yZJgDou97B-3t6_iSaJC2C8kUZKZLRDbgRd27F9Azzsyu4lSGGzAcTHBsvjZJzbE7GAyNbE7THAB9cR7EqHHpV5i2IfY9_fo3FDELs5Jj8ZRcVe80lR-wp0fJ-9fp7P_Rtqr/s1600/writing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivz7i8fZM6yZJgDou97B-3t6_iSaJC2C8kUZKZLRDbgRd27F9Azzsyu4lSGGzAcTHBsvjZJzbE7GAyNbE7THAB9cR7EqHHpV5i2IfY9_fo3FDELs5Jj8ZRcVe80lR-wp0fJ-9fp7P_Rtqr/s320/writing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500018274063398738" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh48oRGc3oslOiO2E2oH30VyjGb6_-euM2aXEg2hVrvCqtt3sm5hF73nXIcFwW_puoflznK2pQuMB-DBitRbBjB_mVtGf_1pxbWmu4mJjQo5cFLcXSh2zN8SvWPpyUkGjvys5MaKJnxljmc/s1600/33-books.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh48oRGc3oslOiO2E2oH30VyjGb6_-euM2aXEg2hVrvCqtt3sm5hF73nXIcFwW_puoflznK2pQuMB-DBitRbBjB_mVtGf_1pxbWmu4mJjQo5cFLcXSh2zN8SvWPpyUkGjvys5MaKJnxljmc/s320/33-books.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500018390983299506" /></a><br />And I've started The New Book - which I've called NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE in an attempt to find my own "let's get away from the cutesy magicky titles" title.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTarFES8nmGfX3ZFwSJVFngd-XEQNZDx1MG4NMVt88GNe3mQEixE32yNCxu3bplGSX_rzzYFPbzVC9RMGdmSJ0TVWFsiSe2oDt_-xCA21XfrQqulGs_jfgX8WdDyYeBeiO67TzRAy_CVk6/s1600/P1000266.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTarFES8nmGfX3ZFwSJVFngd-XEQNZDx1MG4NMVt88GNe3mQEixE32yNCxu3bplGSX_rzzYFPbzVC9RMGdmSJ0TVWFsiSe2oDt_-xCA21XfrQqulGs_jfgX8WdDyYeBeiO67TzRAy_CVk6/s320/P1000266.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500019394970240498" /></a><br />And today is Jonah's 15th birthday. He's celebrated well with chicken breast and steamed fish. As we were told he would be lucky if he survived to his 3rd birthday we're really proud of him. But not half as proud as he is of himself! Showing-off, swaggering and preening all seem to come very naturally to him.<br /><br /><br />Other less pictorial catch-up stuff from previous posts - one-eyed Maddy is absolutely fantastic now, although she has turned into a bit of a prima-donna with all the earlier attention, but is managing to live with her restricted vision with no problems at all. Elle and The Doctor's ill-fated Carlton Epsom handmade bed eventually arrived - damaged and in the wrong colour... back to the drawing board for that one, then. Sigh.... It is now fifteen months since we spoke to the outlaws after the no-show wedding fiasco. Feel that it is too long to even try for a reconciliation. Shame...<br /><br />Sooo, now I'm back with bum-on-seat and fingers-on-keyboard and after my month of skiving madness will try really, really hard to be A Good Blogger in future. I think...Christina Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456081711848597668noreply@blogger.com10