Time is a gift

Looking back at my blogs I realised it was the creative ones that people liked. I’m afraid they will be thin on the ground for the next few months as I have started a new book.

It is only because I have not been shopping, exercising, recording, visiting or reading that I have found time to start writing again. Suddenly a new story springs to life. New characters emerge, new plot lines manifest themselves. It might turn out to be unsuitable for publication but I’m there, with the family from the ‘Lane’ books and writing the fourth book in the series. If my computer stops playing silly b…..s I’ll be done by this time next year. I write in a notebook first and then copy onto the screen. It gives me the first opportunity to edit.

So, just when I thought I would have to learn more about mobile phones and photographs I’m back scribbling – and loving it. Roll on 2018.

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Book order

I know I shouldn’t be surprised but I am. I have just had an order from the wholesaler for a copy of Never Run Away, a book I wrote a few years back. Could this be the start of something new? I didn’t even offer them the last book as it seemed a waste of time, with it being on amazon and having little content that appealed locally. I was hoping to tap into the chicklit craze but that seems to have died down and I don’t write about vampires. My talks introduce readers to all my stories but there may be a long wait for the next one. I have a working title and about three pages written so far.

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Christmas Panto plus!

I promised to tell you when the panto was recorded. “The Wizard of Was” can now be heard on the Voice of Progress website under ‘magazine.’ There are two short pieces, one an excellent story set locally in Worthing, which take up the first fifteen minutes and then the pantomime.

The Voice of Progress are a talking newspaper  and many of their recordings are of local news but the magazines cover a variety of topics. The pantomime was written from the book which is why the shoes are silver, not red, We all had great fun making it and hope everyone enjoys it. Best Wishes to all. Julie.

Poem -a true story

Christmas Mouse

There once was a white mouse called Poppit, whose owners were going away

They called us and said, could they drop it, for Christmas, two nights and one day.

I said that we’d have him with pleasure and find him a home in the shed

Such a cute little pet I would treasure, with his cage and his wheel and his bed.

We moved all the pots for the flowers and cleared all the tools from the shelves

Then left, to be ready for Santa – his reindeer, his presents, his elves.

Next morning I ran down the garden to see if dear Poppit was fine.

I’d left all my presents unopened for, of course, I had plenty of time.

I looked at the cage in the corner but couldn’t see Poppit inside.

Perhaps he had gone somewhere warmer, under his bedding, to hide?

But alas, he had fled, we had lost him. There was just not a sign of a mouse.

He’d escaped, you might think we had crossed him. We should have kept him in the house!

So the day that was Christmas we started to empty our old garden shed,

The contents on wheelbarrow carted, just hoping the mouse wasn’t dead.

And then, with the day nearly over and the junk on display on the grass

When we’d given up hope for the rover-he was out in the open at last!

That holiday won’t be forgotten. The mouse was returned to his home

And a day that could have been rotten- inspiration for this Christmas poem.

 

 

Strange happenings

How is it that I suddenly get ‘featured’ on my blog and an orange note that ‘sticky’ has seen it? At least, I guess that is what it means. I’m really happy if I am getting discovered but sorry not to have anything¬† brilliant to impart. I can give you another verse, however, not mine, this time, but also from our new poetry anthology, “Reflections, Then and Now.”

It isn’t there, you cannot see or feel or touch this mystery

This presence is not noticed. It passes you unseen.

Only when it’s passed one by does one know that it has been.

When it seems to travel slowly we wish it would speed up

When seemingly it travels fast then we wish that it would last.

Only when it’s gone away does one wish that it would stay.

Where, I wonder, is it bound, slipping by without a sound?

It comes up from the future and drops into the past

Moving swift with certainty- it travels to eternity.

Something which is constant, defying understanding

Which is quite unbending and seems never ending

Providing freedom from illusion in a world filled with confusion.

 

Bryan Fletton.

UK readers

Wow! It seems I am read in the UK, too. I wonder if any of you like easy reading stories based in the past- not the distant past – the 1960’s. I wrote about young love and adventure in the UK in the 60’s when life seemed full of possibilities but people were basically more innocent, when girls hitchhiked alone without fear of consequences and it was possible to afford a flat share.

The book is called “A Lesson for the Teacher” which was probably a mistake as the word ‘teacher’ puts some people off. I called it that because, as a young teacher one tends to think that you know everything and it is only when you are out in the big wide world you discover how ignorant you are, especially about men!

It is probably my last novel (of six) as I have turned to drama and poetry. I’ll try to find a cover picture.

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A lesson for the Teacher cover