Poor, poor Fran...

I really feel for the main character in my latest book. Her name is Fran and her husband has just died under the most horrible of circumstances. But as if that is not enough, misery upon misery is being heaped on the poor woman's shoulders.

Here is the paragraph I have just written:

 The house seemed wrong in every way possible. It felt too big, too empty and too full of memories - sad and happy ones – and it seemed that no distinction between the two could ever make her smile again.

There was a letter lying on the mat. Addressed to Jim, it would of course no longer be opened by the person for whom it had been intended. Fran bent and picked it up, running her finger over the little plasticised window which allowed the name and address of the recipient to show through, as if some lingering trace of Jim could be found in those printed words.

The white envelope was not bulky, containing perhaps only one printed sheet. She carried it with her into the kitchen.


Oh dear God, I know what she is about to read in that letter...

Last night by exclusive invitation courtesy of Gem Media who were promoting the event, I attended the launch party of the Belle Vue Bar and grill on Icknield Port Road, Birmingham.

The wine was smooth and the conversation more so. I spoke to numerous interesting people including the four times World Kick Boxing Champion, 'Kash The Flash' and the esteemed Lord Mayor of Birmingham, Councillor Shafique Shah.

The atmosphere in the chic modern bar was absolutely electric! Laughter and excited conversation flitted over the soft music as the sumptuous food just kept on coming forth from the open kitchens; huge steaming plates of fiery samosas, spring rolls and succulent chicken curries to name but a few. The air was redolent with the smells of exotic foreign destinations and tinkled with the sound of wine and champagne glasses being refilled. 

But me of course being me there was [as ever] a humorous situation yet to unfold.

A very glamorous Asian lady had placed herself close to me. Chatting in different groups we had yet to actually speak to one another. But when a young attractive man approached me and began to converse, this lady sidled over and asked "Is this your husband?"

Rather flattered that she could even think this could be the case [the man was at least fifteen years younger than me] I simply said that no, he wasn't. The lady moved back to her original position, flanking my right side within her 'own' group.

The man went off to mingle elsewhere and another man came over to discuss life, jobs and the event we were attending.

"Is this your husband?" a little voice at the side of me enquired. Yet again I said that no, the man was not my spouse. She nodded and left me to it.

Guess what? I ended that conversation, only for another man to come over. This time I talked about being an author and how I loved my job as he listened politely.

And I was almost ready for her when the comment came. Almost but not quite. "So is this your husband?" she asked. At that point,  giggling stupidly, I had to admit that I don't have a husband. [God only knows what the poor man talking to me at the time made of THAT comment - suffice it to say he wandered off pretty quickly!]

She nodded [rather sympathetically I thought] and moved back to her own position once more.

Finally another man came to talk. He was a doctor, an anaesthetist to be precise and we had an interesting discussion about medicine and patients' perceptions of operations due to programmes such as Holby City and Casualty.

Something about his body language clicked in my head and I knew he was married to the lady on my left. So stifling the laughter which threatened to bubble up and overwhelm me I said to her. "Is this your husband?"

And do you know what she did? To her credit she beamed me the brightest smile I have seen in a long time. So maybe for some, marriage works. Maybe I'll get to find out about that one day. Maybe I'll even be back at the Belle Vue and will see that same lovely lady and I will say, "look, finally THIS is my husband!"

In the meantime - Happy Reading.

Pictures will be posted as soon as I am able.

For more information about what Gem Media can do for you contact events@gemmedia.co.uk


Special thanks to http://www.gemmedia.co.uk and

The Belle Vue Bar and Grill. Chic, modern, friendly and with free parking.

Which way is up?

I wrote yesterday about my feelings and I hope you were not troubled in reading them.Because I worried that I might have upset you with my vague uneasiness about the future.


So with that in mind, I discussed it with a group of friends and I made a startling discovery...they all felt pretty similar to how I felt. And yet each and every one of them was in the complete opposite of my own personal situation.


Here was a group of women who also feared what the future held...who also felt that their lives were lacking in some way. And I got to wondering whether this was endemic in our society or whether it was just testament to the old saying of 'misery loves company'.


But the truth has got to be something deeper hasn't it? Religion or lack of it has no bearing on the discussion as some of the women were true believers and others strict atheists.


Finances seemed to have no bearing either as some of the women came from affluent households and others of more modest ones.


Nationality and the idea of culture that is born from this played no part, as I was born in Scotland, one of the women was Irish and the others English.


Finally educational status was no indicator either as levels ranged from University education to local comprehensive to village school. Some of the women went out to work, some did not.


Many years ago I remember reading something about how all of the above both singly and in combination can affect a person's potential to feel happy about life.  I believe the term was coined 'happiness quotient' although it was a long time ago and I may be mis-remembering it.


So what is wrong with us all...why this apathy and worry? Mid-life crisis? I think that is too glib an answer. I also think the truth lies much, much deeper and some of it does indeed stem from childhood.


We are taught from a young age that meeting someone and settling down with them is the ultimate goal. Its the sugar coated ending on the romantic comedy, the finale of many novels and films. But its not the end, in fact it is only the beginning. However it is a beginning that is perhaps more mundane than the lead up to it. It is the start of routines and seeing the same face sitting across from you every morning and having the same conversation time and time again.


I am no psychologist or anthropologist but I think that maybe it doesn't have to be that way. The happiest couples in my social circle have active hobbies which they do together and continue to learn from. They socialise regularly with other couples and they talk about their issues and problems with an honesty and forthrightness that allows them to be fully understood.


Talk might be cheap but it is also invaluable. Just make sure you mean what you say.

Now it's not that I am ignoring you or have abandoned you...but have you had the feeling since New Year as I have, that time is just running away with you? Or is that just me?


Normally I find January such a slow month - things seem to slow to a crawl and nothing much happens. But this January has been very different in many ways and I can't help but wonder why.


Granted I have been incredibly busy. I have pushed Volume IV: A New Epoch into publication and am fast forwarding Volumes V and VI into print and I am also working on two brand new stories, one for ten year olds and one for teens, as well as other books in the pipeline.


Perhaps another reason is that I have been taking a multitude of bookings for school creative writing sessions, library talks and other such events [I will blog a list of these soon].


Added to that, I have decided to stay put in my house for a while, rather than sell up and so have organised a complete change, from the curtains around the house to new furniture...no mean feat let me tell you when you are battling with three children and two dogs just to keep your head above water on a daily basis. 


But I must tell you about my most recent stupid situation. You know my habit of getting lost whenever I go somewhere unfamiliar...


I went to view a house recently. I looked up the directions on google maps and laboriously copied them down [yes I know you can print them out but that involved turning the printer on, waiting ages for it to ready itself, only to discover I had no black ink, paper or something else!] and set off.


What I had failed to realise was that there were two identically names streets within a reasonably short proximity [4 miles apart] and I had looked up the wrong one!


Only on arrival at the wrong place did I realise my mistake and had to then set about finding the other street. As usual I reverted to asking residents for directions. The first man  pulled up to was visiting the area. I drove on.


The second man I pulled up to [for some reason there were no women around like some strange post-apocalyptic land where only the men had survived! -As if - sorry men!!] turned out to be profoundly deaf and mimed back to me that he didn't have a clue what I was on about!


Now since he was sanding at the edge of what I presumed to be his property, with apparently not a care in the world, I had to wonder what he was up to other than hijacking the time of lost strangers.
I apologised profusely as if his deafness was my fault and left in a flurry, probably leaving him even more mystified as to what the harried middle-aged woman was on about.


The third and final man I approached was more helpful.
"My wife was born there," he said with a touch of infinite sadness which made me think that the recollection was painful to him.
"I'm so sorry. Is she dead?" I responded with appropriate sympathy.
"No, she's in Tenerife!" he replied.


He gave me directions and I followed them to the letter only to find myself up a cull-de-sac and lost once more. Luckily he had only gone slightly wrong and the street I was looking for was the next one. Sad to say that after all that, the house was not what I was looking for at all!


So if you are standing on a street corner and a harried looking woman pulls up to you, please be kind, it just might be me!


x