tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3870525810868934102024-03-05T05:34:38.026+00:00Living, writing and other stuffAll material, copyright ©2012 Bill Kirton. All rights reserved. Material here may not be used in any medium without the permission of the author.Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-70407848402523975332016-07-12T11:33:00.000+01:002016-07-12T11:33:08.294+01:00Change of direction<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2v2TAG5W9EPndm-EcPFn9iqi6J3JhKQF5H-KyPXb9ENyKv3vMH8Oe6iRK_FFLOw2TjBdV9v1GUdbA14Ryqx8lVFc08BrFbuP616zCsEfOnX47hqm-xzY54i3aS7ITN78OF4nnMjTklY/s1600/Highland+cattle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2v2TAG5W9EPndm-EcPFn9iqi6J3JhKQF5H-KyPXb9ENyKv3vMH8Oe6iRK_FFLOw2TjBdV9v1GUdbA14Ryqx8lVFc08BrFbuP616zCsEfOnX47hqm-xzY54i3aS7ITN78OF4nnMjTklY/s320/Highland+cattle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>It seems that this site, which I closed some 4 years ago, is still getting visitors. Lots of things have changed since I posted stuff here so, if it's really me you're looking for, you'll find me at: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>http://www.billkirton.com.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>And thanks for visiting anyway.</b></span></div>
Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-40945423218457713222012-03-03T14:46:00.000+00:002012-03-03T14:46:09.031+00:00The last post (probably)<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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According to my stats, this is blog 188,
according to Blogspot’s it’s 185. Doesn’t matter, though, because it’s
(probably) the last one here. For the record, I think blogspot's a great place to have a blog - very quick and easy to use and demanding nothing in the way of expertise with codes, programming or any of those other terrifying skills which seem accessible to 7 year olds but not to me. In case you didn’t know, my reason for moving is that I’ve got a new website
and I’ve attached my blog to it. It seemed to make sense at the time. So, if
you’d like to see more of the living, writing and other stuff I muse over and
you haven’t yet visited the new place, it’s <a href="http://bill-kirton.co.uk/?page_id=402" target="_blank">here</a>. Thanks for all the comments. I hope you'll keep on making them.</div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-26187899577227054402012-03-01T00:07:00.000+00:002012-03-01T00:07:00.202+00:00Surprise! Aliens that aren’t humanoid.<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-01LdB1fE41g/T0OiviHY_1I/AAAAAAAAAuI/p7xdyW5oipc/s1600/Greta+med.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-01LdB1fE41g/T0OiviHY_1I/AAAAAAAAAuI/p7xdyW5oipc/s320/Greta+med.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A welcome visit from another
guest blogger, my friend and fellow Pfoxmoor author, Greta van der Rol. I first
came across her through her historical novel, <i>Die a Dry Death</i>. It’s a
reimagining of an actual historical event and I found it completely absorbing. Since
then, she’s produced many fine books, in a totally different genre. She says
she loves <span lang="EN-AU">writing ‘science fiction with a large dollop
of good old, healthy romance’. Mind you, with a degree in history and a
background in building information systems, perhaps her straddling of the
genres isn’t so surprising. </span>She lives not far from the coast in <st1:state w:st="on">Queensland</st1:state>, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Australia</st1:country-region></st1:place>, where she takes great
photographs and she’s apparently an excellent cook. This is part of her blog
tour to celebrate the release of <i>Starheart</i> and, as part of it, she’ll be giving a $25 Amazon gift voucher to one person
who leaves a comment on any of the blogs she’s visiting until 10<sup>th</sup>
March. So leave her a note and that could be you.</div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">It’s all yours, Greta.</span></div>
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Thanks for hosting me,
Bill. I’m very grateful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m here to talk about
my new novel, <i>Starheart</i>, which is
science fiction with a slurp of romance. Don’t let that put you off, though.
You’ll find a slurp of romance in <i>Doctor
Zhivago</i>, <i>War and Peace</i> and <i>Gone with the Wind</i> and some people quite
enjoyed those. <o:p></o:p></div>
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During this blog tour,
I’ve mentioned the story is set in the same universe as my two ‘Iron Admiral’
books but I’m given to understand that not everybody has read those, so I’d
better introduce you to the aliens in the novels – the ptorix. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When I first dreamed
up the ptorix, I was determined that my aliens were NOT going to be humanoid.
To me, the probability of encountering another sentient species that looks like
us is so far off the scale it’s come around the other side. On the other hand,
I believe that if we are ever to be in conflict with another species, it has to
be for a reason, such as we live on the same type of planet. I mean, why on
Earth (pun intended) would some blob that lives in a gas giant want to come
here? We’ll leave out how. Moreover, the species in my story would have to be
not just intelligent but technologically advanced in order to build space
ships. Whales and dolphins are intelligent but apart from anything else, they
don’t have the physiology to manipulate building materials even if they wanted
to. My aliens therefore have manual dexterity, even if they don’t have ‘fingers’.
Enough of the theory – meet the ptorix.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">Ptorix are essentially conical in shape,
something they exaggerate with their clothing. They have no neck and the head
ends in a dome. The body is covered in short blue fur. Their four arms end in a
number of tentacles which can be deployed in a variety of ways. Think of a sea
anemone and you’ve about got it right. They have four short legs but these are
usually hidden beneath their robes. Three eyes which change colour according to
mood are located almost equidistant around the top of the head, enabling a
ptorix to see almost the whole way around its body without moving. They have
two ‘mouths’, one – resembling a proboscis – for eating, the other for
breathing and speaking. So from a human viewpoint, they’re pretty weird.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">Now let’s go and talk to Professor Xanthor,
who holds the chair of human-ptorix studies at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Shernish</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">University</st1:placetype></st1:place>
on Carnessa. He plays a small, but important role in the Iron Admiral books. He
has agreed to tell us a little about the background of the ptorix. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">I found him in his study, resting on a
platform at his desk (the ptorix don’t sit down). Eyes swirling orange,
tentacles moving gently, he welcomed me in and directed me to a human
chair. Note: the eye colour depends on the frequency of the radiation they
emit – so red, being a longer frequency, is total calm, whereas violet indicates
anger.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><b>Good morning, Professor. Thanks so much for
your time.</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">My pleasure, Greta. It is always nice to
communicate peacefully with humans.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><b>I appreciate that the ptorix have spread
from their Galactic arm throughout much of the Galaxy. But do you know which
world they originally came from?</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">Well now. The original home of the ptorix
is lost in time. It has taken the Khophirate, what you call an
Empire, many thousands of years to expand to its greatest extent – and, as
you know, to contract to its current size. But there is speculation, of
course. For your audience, suffice to say it was a planet like this one –
suitable for you humans as well as ptorix, with water, similar air and gravity
and so on.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><b>What can you tell me about your very early
ancestors?</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">Oh, I think just looking at us will give
some answers. The ptorix were originally prey animals. This is why we have such
wonderful eyesight. We can see anything around us unless it is directly behind
us and we see much more of the light spectrum than you do.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><b>So what changed?</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">How did we become dominant? (His
tentacles lashed a little and his eyes swirled through yellow and green –
thoughtful) We had the advantage of a large brain, which we needed to
process the image from our eyes. And we had our tentacles. We could make
weapons at first to defend ourselves from the predators and later to kill other
animals for food. We found, too, that living in cooperative family groups made
us more powerful, even against the largest predator.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">We had always been scavengers, living on
the remains of flesh killed by others. (He rubbed at his
proboscis) We ptorix find it strange that humans eat solid flesh. Please
forgive me. We find it disgusting and so inefficient. We wait until the flesh
has softened enough for us to suck up the nutrients. Of course, this is done
with chemical additives, now. Only the best restaurants let the flesh putrefy
of its own accord.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">However, we were nothing if not adaptable.
We learned to find other foods, modify our diet for different environments and
eventually, different worlds.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">But back to our ancestors on their first
world. Soon enough, they ran out of natural caves to live in and were forced to
build new dwellings. Even now, after all these centuries, we build homes that
look like caves. (He waved an arm, taking in the curved walls of his office,
the eye-watering decorations and the stalactite-like embellishments in the
ceiling which emitted soft light).</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">I thanked Professor Xanthor for his time
and went home to write this. So there you have it. Aliens need not be humanoid.
</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1vQQm_2Ivo/T0Oi4Pf7DhI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/5EOq74pRBmU/s1600/Starheart+ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1vQQm_2Ivo/T0Oi4Pf7DhI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/5EOq74pRBmU/s320/Starheart+ebook.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
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You can find out more
about <i>Starheart</i> on Amazon <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Starheart-ebook/dp/B007B1W37O/ref=dp_return_1?ie=UTF8&n=133140011&s=digital-text">here</a>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">I’ll be at another friend's <a href="http://sesshabattousai.com/cgi-bin/wordpress">blog</a> </span><span lang="EN-AU">on 5th
March to tell you about the sparks that fly between Jess and the Admiral, the
main characters in the book.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">My own links are:<br />
<a href="http://gretavanderrol.net/" target="_blank">http://gretavanderrol.net/</a><br />
<a href="http://twitter.com/GretavdR" target="_blank">http://twitter.com/GretavdR</a><br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/Author.Greta.vanderRol" target="_blank">http://www.facebook.com/Author.Greta.vanderRol</a></span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-66069541557338143222012-02-28T17:27:00.000+00:002012-02-28T17:27:47.485+00:00Farewell to Blogspot – well, nearly<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8oFXqQDNHcs/T00OIllDRVI/AAAAAAAAAug/w9Efw1dp-lI/s1600/badger+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8oFXqQDNHcs/T00OIllDRVI/AAAAAAAAAug/w9Efw1dp-lI/s320/badger+015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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OK, this is almost the last blogspot blog.
Not because I’m stopping, but because, thanks to Anneke, I have a new website
and I’ll be blogging there from now on. But there’ll be a grand finale here too
because, on March 1<sup>st</sup>, I’m hosting my friend, the versatile Greta
van der Rol, on one of her blog tour stops. It’ll also stay open because the 180-odd
postings here may still be of interest to forensic psychiatrists and/or students
of the absurd.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It started on March 18th 2009 and, despite
calling the first entry ‘Dipping a toe into the existential water’ (and thereby
alienating trillions of potential readers), I did get some followers. Which is
more than can be said for the new one where, at the moment, sitting forlornly
at the top of the page is a nearly empty box which should be filled with all
your grinning countenances and/or avatars.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">So this admirably short posting is here for
just one reason, to beg, beseech, implore, cajole and entreat you to visit <a href="http://bill-kirton.co.uk/?page_id=402" target="_blank">the new site</a> and, even if you’re only pretending, join me (and the badger) there.</span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-59629462611181599642012-02-24T10:55:00.003+00:002012-02-24T11:47:57.556+00:00A miscellaneous medley of patchwork pot-pourris<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IfYGR3k5zvy-8mURBrETsvyeCmmTYznDMuPaDksDbbMIPXJGUAnqmA7huVo0iaZrFLCLAKQ85FF9A5XknJR8We7cVBdMrkcxp65Rm26uNqFbrI8zvCD7Cjq6lz5tMJWZFS33X9nUWfM/s1600/web+header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IfYGR3k5zvy-8mURBrETsvyeCmmTYznDMuPaDksDbbMIPXJGUAnqmA7huVo0iaZrFLCLAKQ85FF9A5XknJR8We7cVBdMrkcxp65Rm26uNqFbrI8zvCD7Cjq6lz5tMJWZFS33X9nUWfM/s640/web+header.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The title is merely following the modern political
and commercial impulse to generate words which imply but simultaneously
evacuate meaning. So …</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Four excuses for the gap since the last
post:</span></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>Family visits.</li>
<li>I’m doing another ‘Brilliant’ book for
Pearson Education. This time it’s <i>Academic
Writing</i>, so it’ll simply be borrowings from a couple of the other books and
writing new introduction, conclusion and linking materials.</li>
<li>Under the usual, generous direction of Anneke
Klein, I’m making a new website, partly to use the header above instead of having
the current looming head at the top of each page, but also to make it easier for me to
add and delete stuff when I want without having to impose on Anneke every time. It'll also mean migrating this blog to the new site and (doubtless), losing both my followers in the process.</li>
<li>My perennial laziness (and, speaking of
laziness, whatever happened to my brother Ron?).</li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Of course, there’s also the fact that I
have nothing much to say. I’ve just done a highly enjoyable, very interesting
interview with Sara Bain. You can see it <a href="http://bit.ly/wGkIAX">here</a>. </span>Sara is a journalist who gives so much time
to others that she doesn’t leave enough for her own writing. She also has a way
of framing questions that produces answers which take you into areas you hadn’t
anticipated. If you want to learn about your characters (and yourself) a Sara
Bain interview is the route to take.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">What else? Well, the interview was timed to
coincide with the release of the fifth Jack Carston novel, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Unsafe-Acts-Carston-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0078E3OWW/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1330080719&sr=8-2">Unsafe Acts</a></i>, and Sara’s questions about how I ‘met’ Carston and how
he’d developed made me focus on something I already knew – he’s changed quite a
lot. Or maybe he’s allowed more aspects of his personality to appear. I spoke
about this in the interview so I won’t go over the ground again here, but my
suspicion is that the next in the series will be the last and I’m toying with
the idea of it being narrated by Carston himself.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">And one final thing to confirm forever my bafflement at the whole world of publishing </span>(as if such confirmation were needed). This is for
those of you who seek value in books. You’ll remember that <i>The Sparrow Conundrum</i> won an award, but maybe there are two
versions of it in circulation because I notice that, while the paperback still
costs $10.99 on Amazon <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region></st1:place>,
you can actually buy – from the same site, 12 new copies priced from $9.15 to
$39.17.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The same division between cheap crap and
quality literature is evident on the Amazon UK site too, where <i>The Figurehead</i>, new from Amazon, will
set you back £8.88 but its obviously far superior <b>used</b> doppelganger will cost you £39.92.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Best of all, though, are the two versions
of <i>The Darkness</i>. Now I think it’s
pretty good – but then I wrote it, so I would, wouldn’t I? But I obviously
didn’t realise just how good it was. Amazon seems to have been priced out of
the market because, on its site, <b>used</b>
copies are available at prices ranging from $98.53 (yes, almost the magic $100)
to (and I swear this is true because I checked it again and again) $250.80.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">So if anyone reading this was thinking of
buying the $250.80 copy, I have few here I’d happily let you have for just $250
each, with free postage.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-62570339896497313012012-02-05T12:23:00.000+00:002012-02-05T12:23:47.993+00:00SALE!!!! Everything (i.e. 1 item) must go!!!<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbefwXVS82vnxORS6ISXco0Bo1P_Exov7EDGP_6FDMB06gtlYgdQk6bK0-Ay5wxIJSj1xXeuijgl67ayvmz-wIxDeZs0gTTshFoXERhsXaOsGoRweblutdqdPe_g_Y5ce0EUXDieWE3o8/s1600/Alternative+Dimension.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/AVvXsEgbefwXVS82vnxORS6ISXco0Bo1P_Exov7EDGP_6FDMB06gtlYgdQk6bK0-Ay5wxIJSj1xXeuijgl67ayvmz-wIxDeZs0gTTshFoXERhsXaOsGoRweblutdqdPe_g_Y5ce0EUXDieWE3o8/s320/Alternative+Dimension.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">A few years back, I joined Second Life™ (known
to residents as SL), to do some research on a short story I was writing. It’s a
fascinating, addictive place and I made friends there whom I’d never have met
under normal circumstances. It’s a place where you can indulge all sorts of
fantasies and, indeed, there are stories of people who have more or less opted
out of their Real Life, which is the term used there, and prefer to live,
interact, and even worship in the virtual world. In times of austerity, the ability
to build yourself a vast home in a fantastical location of your choosing, fly
through the air and be perpetually young and attractive (or be a dragon,
unicorn or mouse if you prefer) has obvious appeal. It’s very liberating but
the loosening of inhibitions can also be dangerous.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">In the end, I left because it was taking up
too much of my time. But while I was there, I was involved in various writing
groups which were very stimulating and which caused me to write some stories
which would never have occurred to me if I hadn’t experienced that mingling of
the real and the virtual. A few months ago, I put some of them together and it
was clear that the real/virtual theme was strong in nearly all of them. There
was also the fact that the coexistence of 2 ‘realities’ is the perfect
situation for humour, since laughter depends a lot on the unexpected.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">So?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Well, it didn’t take much to write a
narrative strand that let me put them into a sequence which offered a sort of
development to a conclusion. I’m not claiming great things of it – some of the
stories are sad, some funny, some satirical, some absurd, some just rude – but the one thread running through them all is
that strange virtual/real dynamic. And they make up a novella. I wouldn’t want
to risk offending the people at Second Life ™, whose creation really is
remarkable, so the stories take place in a game called Alternative Dimension – a
game which does the same sort of things but is by no means a replica of SL.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And the reason I’m telling you this is because,
for this weekend only on Amazon, it’s free. Naturally enough, the title is <i>Alternative Dimension</i> and it’s written
by my avatar, Jack Lefebre. (Actually my avatar had a ‘v’ in his name, too, but
there are already writers called Jack Lefebvre and I didn’t want to offend
them.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It won’t take a minute to log on, ‘buy’ it and, if you’re like me,
store it with all the other freebies you’ve downloaded and forgotten about.
It’s at<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://amzn.to/zvutuc">http://amzn.to/zvutuc</a> for the <st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region> and <a href="http://amzn.to/yt6Mno">http://amzn.to/yt6Mno</a> for
the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span><a class="addthis_button_compact" href="http://www.addthis.com/bookmark.php?v=250&username=xa-4b9fc53f27f27168">Share</a>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-40048062847480736952012-01-29T14:26:00.001+00:002012-01-29T14:26:54.568+00:00A scientific interlude<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNfXiSWNE1WlavQhx5zvdv_L23YWuuYiLNEuPuB6qwwLgYg6Wzkfc5uBm7ffNHpfxEjy3dBtdAxKPksb2FxsaiPIa1EIw-ZCfwPIhqQLZ_sLk8oevVd51zO2TaYHP9bW4stFYm-ffMf4/s1600/spuds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNfXiSWNE1WlavQhx5zvdv_L23YWuuYiLNEuPuB6qwwLgYg6Wzkfc5uBm7ffNHpfxEjy3dBtdAxKPksb2FxsaiPIa1EIw-ZCfwPIhqQLZ_sLk8oevVd51zO2TaYHP9bW4stFYm-ffMf4/s320/spuds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Away from the usual self-advertising and PR
plugs for a change. Two items I read recently – one on a website, the other in <i>The Observer</i> – set up some scientific
musings. Science to me usually means fascinating things which I don’t
understand, but it often leads to trains of thought I wouldn’t otherwise have.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The first
item was about chromosomes. I know, of course, that they’re made of DNA and
proteins and carry our genes. When I checked Wikipedia, there was stuff about
regulatory elements, nucleotide sequences, eukaryotic and prokaryotic cells as
well, but (as they keep saying in the film <i>Airplane</i>),
that’s not important right now. What is important is that we (humans) have 46
of them. But – and this is the interesting bit – it’s also possible that we
have 48. And why is that interesting? Well, we all know that chimpanzees also
have 48, but – and this time it really is the interesting bit – so do potatoes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">In the
evolutionary ladder, therefore, we are on a par with potatoes. (The temptation
at this point is to digress into the class structure implicit in varieties such as
King Edward, Belle de Fontenay, Duke of York and Saxon. Instead, I’ll just
point you to the admirable website </span><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.lovepotatoes.co.uk/">http://www.lovepotatoes.co.uk/</a>.)</span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The second piece of science, however,
offers hope that such parity will soon change because stem cell researchers in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edinburgh</st1:place></st1:city> have succeeded
in cultivating new brain cells. Not by sucking out real brain cells and prodding
them, or from the practice of using bits of embryos, which upsets so many
people who think only God should do that. No, instead they've done stuff with skin cells.
(‘Prodding’ and ‘done stuff with’ are scientific terms.) Thus, we can look
forward to a future in which our descendants are clothed not in skin but in
brains, which will give us a clear edge over our potato cousins who, even if
they did manage to follow our evolutionary lead, would still get peeled and
thereby lose their powers of ratiocination.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">To some of you, this may seem a frivolous
misuse and indeed misappropriation of important scientific advances, but I take
my lead from one of the greats of British comedy, Tommy Cooper, whose use of
statistics was exemplary. He once revealed the following:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Apparently</span><span lang="EN-GB">, one in five people in the world are
Chinese. There are five people in my family, so it must be one of them. It’s
either my mum or my dad, my older brother Colin, or my younger brother
Ho-Cha-Chu.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I think it’s Colin.”</span></div>
<br />
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-11323330953205123682012-01-23T12:14:00.001+00:002012-02-03T16:10:25.908+00:00Unsafe Acts<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAyg-tOUHZpGymLzWihxOum_KETzyfPCp_YeUV2OqS5FFQygEeIRS6eZi_KxXftF1P_E1imddzYIXlFvTcvQf-hEcjVMgUBRXXNL5FFJLJsRqZg9ieEehTaZiaORituHvt6Qc4Apr4A4/s1600/unsafe+acts+wrap+new+font+%25233+1-6-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAyg-tOUHZpGymLzWihxOum_KETzyfPCp_YeUV2OqS5FFQygEeIRS6eZi_KxXftF1P_E1imddzYIXlFvTcvQf-hEcjVMgUBRXXNL5FFJLJsRqZg9ieEehTaZiaORituHvt6Qc4Apr4A4/s320/unsafe+acts+wrap+new+font+%25233+1-6-12.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">One of my claims to fame (he says, as if
there were several) is that I earned an acknowledgement in Ian Rankin’s dagger
prize winning novel <i>Black and Blue</i>.
Members of the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s
Crime Writers’ Association are asked to list any areas of ‘special expertise’
so that fellow members can contact them if they need information on different
topics. I’ve written countless videos and DVDs about offshore safety as well as actual safety
induction programmes, so that was one of my ‘specialisations’. In <i>Black and Blue</i>, Rebus had to make a trip
to an offshore platform and Ian wrote to ask what sort of thing that involved
for a ‘visitor’. I wrote back and thereby got myself a mention.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">So, apart from name-dropping, why am I
writing this? Because, on the 15<sup>th</sup> of next month, <i>Unsafe Acts</i>, the 5<sup>th</sup> novel in
my Jack Carston series, will be published and, as the cover image and the title
suggest, it involves an offshore platform and safety. It also involves some
reflections on homophobia and how, even in the 21<sup>st</sup> century, that’s
still a problem.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It’s been through several drafts and, as I
was reading the proofs, I again got the strange feeling that, while I knew I’d
written it and my name’s on the cover, it was hard to remember how it happened.
When something’s out there as a self-contained thing – whether in tangible form
as a paperback or in the same completeness as an ebook – it somehow seems
instantaneous. The book has become a fact. When you’re writing, you’re always poised on the edge of
wondering what the characters are going to do, where they’re going to go. The
process is one of ‘becoming’ rather than ‘being’. So for me the writer, <i>Unsafe Acts</i> was a succession of instants
which eventually stopped. But for me the reader, it’s a complete, set thing
with its own internal logic and a journey which has only one path. I suppose
for readers coming fresh to it, the uncertainties are still there because they
don’t know where the characters will take them until they’ve arrived.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The other question you sometimes ask
yourself, when you’re reading a novel you’ve written, is the one that most
writers hate: ‘Where do you get your ideas from?’ And again, it’s often
difficult to answer. With <i>Unsafe Acts</i>,
I know that the seed was sown in a casual remark from a friend, Mike Lloyd-Wiggins,
who said one day ‘You ought to write about an offshore platform. There’s plenty
of stuff going on out there.’ (This was the same friend who also said, a few
years ago ‘You ought to write a story about a figurehead carver’. So thanks,
Mike.) But that’s just the seed. When you see the dense vegetation that’s grown
from it (I know, crap metaphor, but I’m lazy) you really do wonder where all
these people were hiding, what made them appear. Where did they get their
attitudes?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">One other interesting thing about this book
(for me anyway) is that it’s a different Jack Carston from the one I first met
when I wrote <i>Material Evidence</i>. Of
course, I’m different now from the person I was then but I don’t think that means
we’ve followed the same path. He now seems so fed up with the hoops he has to
jump through to satisfy his superiors and tick the right administrative boxes <span lang="EN-GB">(what
a field day these crap – and now mixed, too – metaphors are getting)</span>, that I really
wonder whether the next book will find him leaving the job altogether.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Anyway, forget the Jubilee (definitely) and
the London Olympics, the date for your diary is the day after Valentine’s Day.</span></div>
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-59818766943955279352012-01-08T15:19:00.000+00:002012-01-08T15:19:24.998+00:00A mish mash and hodge podge of titbits.<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-akrU63GtSbk/Twmv0bfJUOI/AAAAAAAAAs0/JmBO1t5-pCg/s1600/unsafe+acts+ebook+new+font+%25233+1-6-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-akrU63GtSbk/Twmv0bfJUOI/AAAAAAAAAs0/JmBO1t5-pCg/s320/unsafe+acts+ebook+new+font+%25233+1-6-12.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I’ve just got the go-ahead for another book
in Pearson’s ‘Brilliant’ series, this time on Academic Writing. Also, Helen
Anderson, John Grant and others are pestering me to get started on the sequel
to <i>The Figurehead</i>, so blogging has
been shoved aside. But, since I know millions of people all over the world are
waiting for the pearls of wisdom I dispense here, I really must write
something.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">If you want the thoughtful me, try Richard
Sutton’s blog, <a href="http://www.sailletales.com/?p=2143">Saille Tales</a></span>. He invited me to say something about writing first drafts and,
as is usual whenever I have to write and/or talk about writing, I had to step
back from it and try to work out what I do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I’m not an advocate of rigid writing
techniques but producing anything worth reading calls for control, discipline
and a respect for the medium. Nonetheless, writing for me is instinctive. With
non-fiction, I have headings and specific areas which I know I have to cover,
but with fiction, I dive into it and just let it carry me along.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Anyway, what was I talking about? Ah yes,
pearls of wisdom. Well, for a start there are all the usual political and
cultural axes I grind:</span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the total lack of any leadership or credibility in any of our
politicians, their undisguised scorn/contempt for us, the continuing
expansion of the gap between rich and poor, the dismantling of the health
service and education system;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the very existence of reality TV, celebrity culture and the
seeming refusal to require any talent of those involved in and/or aspiring
to it;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the abject acceptance that royalty confirms that some people
are ‘higher’ than others;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the fact that football is about money;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Simon Cowell.</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">But that’s tedious, pontificating stuff
that will bore and/or alienate some of the handful of visitors. (My earlier
claim to serve millions was merely a hilarious joke.) So I’ll opt for a
potpourri (which, given that the ‘pourri’ bit literally means rotten, is highly
appropriate).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And that segues neatly into an aside on words
and their meanings. If you sign up for the newsletter on the site
<a href="http://wordsmith.org/">wordsmith.org</a>, they send you a word a day and some of them are fascinating. I
now have, for example, three new words to use in descriptions of characters:
callipygous, mammose and lissotrichous, the first being of particular interest
to both male and female lexicographers and perverts.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Then there’s the word noosphere, which is
pronounced No-us-fear, and either sounds the opposite of what it means, i.e.
the sum of human knowledge, or is an accurate description of where we’ve
reached on the evolutionary scale.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And if
you have a tabby cat, you’re referencing a certain Price Attab who gave his
name to a<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">l-Attabiya, a suburb of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Baghdad</st1:place></st1:city>. Silk was made
there and tabbies got their name because their coats were similar to the cloth. (I know, you're now asking yourself how you've managed all these years without knowing that.)</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">What next? Ah yes, <i>The Sparrow Conundrum</i>
was featured on the site <a href="http://addictedtoebooks.com/node/102">addictedtoebooks </a>and I contributed a guest post to <a href="http://bit.ly/z7VBSA">Past Times</a>.
And the illustration at the top is for <i>Unsafe
Acts</i>, the fifth in my Jack Carston series. It’ll probably be appearing
towards the end of next month.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And, to end this ramble, two apocryphal
items of news, both relating to last year’s (grits teeth, suppresses anger)
royal wedding. It seems that </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Neil Diamond’s <i>Sweet Caroline</i> is one of
William Windsor’s favourite songs and Mr Diamond would have been quite happy to
amend it to <i>Sweet Catherine</i> for the occasion. Now, try singing the chorus using
that substitution. See? It doesn’t work. The last syllable isn’t strong enough
to sustain the note. But they’re the Windsors, our favourite German family, so
it didn’t matter that, at Diana’s funeral, Elton John sang the praises of ‘<st1:country-region w:st="on">England</st1:country-region>’s rose’, i.e. the princess of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Wales</st1:country-region></st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">It seems, too, that the lyrics of </span><span lang="EN-GB"><i>Ubi Caritas</i> were doctored to
remove some reference or other that was deemed too risqué for the occasion. I
can’t confirm this because my Latin is non-existent. It does seem absurd,
but that’s what’s being claimed. The only glimmer of light it offers is that
the couple may want to avoid the couplings so cherished by ordinary mortals and
therefore will produce no offspring for us to support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">And 2012
is the year of the diamond bloody jubilee. I want to spend it in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jamaica</st1:place></st1:country-region>, where
the new Prime Minister will be declaring a republic. But, wherever you are, I
hope 2012 is healthy, happy, productive and successful for you all. Happy New
Year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-11685498112132240412011-12-21T15:33:00.000+00:002011-12-21T15:33:09.016+00:00Christmas in College<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1sg6bKw-bHA_Ws0vir0VJSbO8rEc-n56JHM_0QnmbG6FJXDhFUW9KXjZXGJ46NnP_wtO9SIYvjK-JjdG80dPQAtDueyra0809diz4azxXiH06K1U0VzG0NwCKLgqbuscAxZYDX3o8Ja0/s1600/tree.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/AVvXsEh1sg6bKw-bHA_Ws0vir0VJSbO8rEc-n56JHM_0QnmbG6FJXDhFUW9KXjZXGJ46NnP_wtO9SIYvjK-JjdG80dPQAtDueyra0809diz4azxXiH06K1U0VzG0NwCKLgqbuscAxZYDX3o8Ja0/s320/tree.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;">DR MCBRIDE: Can’t it wait until
later? I really need to finish this critical analysis of that late Beethoven
quartet which…</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PROFESSOR DEELEY: We don’t have
time, McBride. You know the date, I take it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Of course. it’s the 4th. Why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Yes, the 4th of December. They’ll
be here in a couple of weeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: But this Beethoven score – I’m
so close to finalising it. That b minor viola shift…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: I know the feeling only too
well, McBride. I felt exactly the same about what was to be my definitive
article on Tolstoy’s debt to Victor Hugo. But there are other considerations. We
must be realistic. We need to get ready.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Damn. Every year it’s the
same. Every year I vow I’ll move to some respectable provincial university. But
I never do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: And why would you? There’s
Oxbridge, us, and the rest are nowhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: I know that. But every
Christmas, with all the damned tourists, the carols, that absurd charity
pantomime. It’s so demeaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Tradition, McBride. And, of
course, economics. They bring the dollars, we deck the halls with holly, ivy,
mistletoe and dress up like munchkins. It’s a small price to pay for 11 months
of academic freedom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Professor Deeley, I have a
PhD. I’ve published monographs on atonal shifts in Bartok.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: And your point is? Remember
that you’re speaking to the editor of two volumes of Dostoevsky’s
correspondence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: I know. I remember the reviews
of it. An outstanding piece of work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Thank you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: But also, in and of itself, a
confirmation that we should not need to do this … these Christmas things.
They’re demeaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: It’s what people expect. Who
are you this year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: I’m sorry?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: In the … performance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Oh. Er ... Father John.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Ah, showering reprobation from
the pulpit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: That’s the cross I bear this
year. What about you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Well…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: You’re not driving the sleigh
again, are you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: No, I…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: You’re Joseph.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: No.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Not Mary, surely?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Er…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Professor Deeley, you seem
reluctant to divulge it. Is it something shameful?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Not exactly. I’m … I’m the
beau.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: The beau?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Yes. Under the mistletoe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: I know where the bloody beau
goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Please, McBride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: And who’s the belle this year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Holly Devere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Holly Devere? The 4<sup>th</sup>
year medic? The one who does lap-dancing in the <st1:place w:st="on">Union</st1:place>?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: I believe so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: You bastard. I’ve been after
her for a month.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Don’t you think I know that? Everybody does. It’s damned embarrassing. Bad enough having to canoodle with a student without
knowing she’s … well, not mine. I didn’t choose her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: Maybe not, but you’ll be doing
the canoodling with her. You bastard. That should’ve been me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Has it occurred to you that
perhaps they wanted a beau who wouldn’t be a laughing stock?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: A laughing stock?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Oh come, McBride, you may not
be a linguist but… Beau? Beautiful?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: What’s your point?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">PD: Nothing of any consequence. Hugo’s
theory of the grotesque. Inner beauty is what counts. You may resemble
Quasimodo but I don’t doubt that, inside, you also have his capacity for love,
compassion ...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">DM: You patronising bastard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">At which point, we leave the
Professor of European Literature and his colleague from the music department to
settle their academic differences with a mixture of vitriolic abstractions and
playground taunts, but with no danger of any physical contact. Their
Holly-induced enmity will, in due course, lead to McBride penning a stinging refutation of Deeley’s
interpretation of Beowulf. Deeley, in turn, will use his influence to ensure
that McBride never gets to be the beau. And the tourists will be beguiled by a
pantomime which affirms the old enduring values.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">So happy Christmas to you all and…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;">God bless us, every one!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-18025954434511004102011-12-13T15:12:00.001+00:002011-12-13T15:12:51.461+00:00Welcome to the Benighted Kingdom<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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A while ago, I asked for comments on a
satirical piece I was including in a series of short stories. It was about the
clichés that attach to various nationalities. Joe, the creator of an online
role-playing game, went visiting the various geographical locations in the game
and here’s what the bit about the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region></st1:place> became:</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">"Joe found this herd mentality interesting
and spent some time acclimatising in various places. His frequent trips to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Americas</st1:country-region></st1:place>
made him wonder whether it had been wise to give residents so much freedom to
adapt the in-world environment to suit their own preferences. Each state he
visited proclaimed its pride in being part of the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region></st1:place> and yet the differences between
them were so extreme that he began to wonder what ‘United’ meant. The south
thought the north was populated by effete homosexuals while the north failed to
understand the semantic lapses that led their southern counterparts to confuse
the words ‘bride’, ‘groom’ and ‘first cousin’. The western states claimed to be
the true representatives of American history, those in the east celebrated a
long European ancestry. The only thing that united them was a general agreement
that God was American. And, except for a few individuals in <st1:state w:st="on">Kentucky</st1:state>
and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Tennessee</st1:state></st1:place>,
every single resident had wonderful teeth."</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The reason I quote it here is that, despite
my (supposedly) funny insistence on the differences between states, in the
international arena they really are UNITED, and all the stronger for it.
Americans from all over are proud to chant their allegiance to ‘<st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">USA</st1:place></st1:country-region>’.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">So what? Well, it’s because here in the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">UK</st1:country-region></st1:place>, a
tiny minority of our elected ‘leaders’ are braying their triumph at the fact
that our Prime Minister (Prime Minister! God help us.) has told the other 26
countries in the EU to eff off. So here we are again, the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Britain</st1:country-region></st1:place> that seems to think it
still has an Empire, that now ‘rules the waves’ with aircraft carriers which
have no planes on them, in a position of tremendous power as a minority of one.
The rest of <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place> will carry on doing the
thing Cameron ‘vetoed’ (look the word up, Prime Minister), they’ll at least try to
look beyond their own self-interests and their borders and, with luck, they’ll
save the Euro, re-emerge as a relevant force in world affairs, and maybe, in
some idyllic future, become the USE.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">So much for democracy. We didn’t elect a
coalition government and we certainly didn’t give a mandate to just 10% of our
elected ‘leaders’ to dictate foreign policy. But that’s what we’ve got. Their
views on Europe and, more importantly, on <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Britain</st1:place></st1:country-region>, are outdated, irrelevant
and harmful. The ‘bulldog’ whose spirit they claim to represent was replaced
ages ago by the poodle that George Bush dragged into his adventures like Tintin
and Snowy. Don’t get me wrong – <st1:country-region w:st="on">Britain</st1:country-region>
still has inner strengths and pride, a history and a present of greatness, but that’s
not the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Britain</st1:place></st1:country-region>
that Cameron and his beasts belong to.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It’s all about power, isn’t it? Cameron
caved in to please his party’s hard-liners, Clegg, the supposedly pro-European
Deputy Prime Minister (Deputy Prime Minister! God help us.) let him get away
with it because it’s the only way he can hang on to a cabinet post. Meanwhile,
any vestigial power we had as a nation has evaporated. Brilliant, Cameron.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">As they put on their earnest, serious faces
and tell us it’s for our own good, every single <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region> citizen is diminished by their
insulting, patronising attitudes to diplomacy and to us.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Wait, though. We may not be part of a
United States of Europe, but at least we’re a <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">United Kingdom</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Oh yeah? Not for
much longer. Another consequence of Cameron’s folly may well be that, up here
in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Scotland</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
we vote for independence.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Great job, Prime Minister.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-20298361152453822722011-11-26T10:46:00.000+00:002011-11-26T10:46:00.827+00:00The Pulse in Poetry<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">Ladies
and Gentlemen, the man who needs no introduction, my gifted, laid-back little
brother, with a contribution illustrated by his son Joe.</span></i><br />
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<br /></div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Just for a change from our early morning
competition over who has had the worst night’s sleep, or from repeating the
clichéd, “Well, this won’t buy the baby a new bonnet,” and because it was later
than usual, I tried some Yeats as I woke yesterday: “I shall arise and go
now……”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">My wife beat me to the bathroom and – to
prove I was not the only literate partner – took up and almost sang the first
stanza:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “I
shall arise and go now, and go to Innisfree</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> And
a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> Nine
bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> And
live alone in the bee-loud glade.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And then, moments later, through the
cleanest of teeth, her tone had changed from singing sylph to whip-cracking
critic:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Nine
bean rows? Nine rows of beans? What does he want with nine rows of beans? It’s
not like he’s got a freezer or anything. He’ll never get through nine bean
rows. We have a job eating our two rows before we get fed up and start making
piccalilli –and there’s no evidence he was keen on that.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And, unwittingly, alongside a brief search
for a rhyme for piccalilli, I found myself not only agreeing that – unless he
was drying and storing the beans – three rows would be plenty, but also
resolving to do a little more research to discover if the beans needed to be
salted, like pork, to last the winter, although, being – presumably – a
freshwater lake, he might have trouble keeping his salt pot filled. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And
he’s only got honey to accompany them: ‘….<b>a</b> hive for the honey bee…’
Mind you, one hive is a bit more realistic, but that one ‘honey bee’ isn’t
going to make life very sweet.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I chiefly blame (and thank) Monty Python
for these journeys into the absurd. Before you know it, you’re miles away from
the content, not to mention the writer’s intention. You can end up feeling like
the spoiler in the seminar, who won’t let the group get past “April is the
cruellest month” by telling you how it can be quite nasty in early June if the
jet stream doesn’t behave itself. Thank goodness the rest of <i>Innisfree</i> doesn’t invite any more
culinary speculation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The same, over-rational spoiling is at work
in a short story by Salley Vickers, where a character is posing the old riddle
which goes, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “As
I was going to St Ives, I met a man with seven wives,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> Seven
wives had seven cats, seven cats had seven kits,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> Kits,
cats, men, wives, how many were going to St Ives?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Her companion isn’t satisfied to be
‘tricked’ by the correct answer (one; it’s only the writer who is going <b><i>to</i></b>
St Ives) and says,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Why shouldn’t he meet them on the way? He
might be overtaking the guy if he had all those blessed creatures to drag along
with him.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">But what has this to do with the heady life
and times of award-winning writer and top brother Bill Kirton?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Well, it feels like it links to previous
posts about the balance between the writer’s intention and the freedom and right
of the reader to make what they will of the text, even if that construct is as
remote and prosaic as the examples above. However, those reader-rights ought to
be supplemented by the need to, at least, suspend disbelief and allow some
poetic licence, if they are to have access to the deeper structures in the
text. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">What this entry needs now is a meatier
selection of examples where the literal has blocked off the literature. That’s
where you guys come in.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-38861712742675591602011-11-22T15:17:00.001+00:002011-11-22T16:06:38.103+00:00My brother is my keeper<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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I should have known better than to post the previous
offering, in which I was boasting about winning awards. Hubris is always
punished and yesterday came retribution via that man you all (unaccountably)
seem to like - my brother Ron. And what better way to convey the experience than by simply
pasting the email I sent to him when it happened. The relevant part of my note
to him went like this:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNrtfLYlJjMl1ixhm6d62Zm30jnCcsldS3gl14OQuCfAIW7OZVCqIv9k3Nv7HTy-TDGuuLfpJddJu97YaeOwKHxaChWeLtI7OxGtWH4_7Y1m_JxYJ2wjQv0F17zSiMF1XkFv0uUZ8Bvk/s1600/ron2.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/AVvXsEijNrtfLYlJjMl1ixhm6d62Zm30jnCcsldS3gl14OQuCfAIW7OZVCqIv9k3Nv7HTy-TDGuuLfpJddJu97YaeOwKHxaChWeLtI7OxGtWH4_7Y1m_JxYJ2wjQv0F17zSiMF1XkFv0uUZ8Bvk/s320/ron2.jpg" width="90" /></a>This morning, to put off getting
started on anything, I looked at an analytical thing that counts blog visits,
pageloads, and other stuff which I don’t understand. As a result of checking to
see whether I’m wasting my time writing the bloody thing, I found details of
each blog’s popularity and as I scanned down the figures, I was quite pleased
to see that some of my efforts attracted well over a hundred (although the vast
majority were in double figures – and mostly low ones at that). Then – oh
frabjous day etc. – the wonderful figure of 586 leapt off the page – but it was
bugger-all to do with me. It was your second contribution. Fair enough, I
thought, so I looked for your first one and, for the months of January/February
2010, I found the following sequence:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
3 - 5 - 0 - 2 - 3 - 1 - 1 - 2428 -
3 - 1 - 1<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
That’s not a joke or a misprint. I’m
therefore the blogging equivalent of the singer of <i>Pinball Wizard</i> and
I owe a duty to ‘my’ readers to cajole you into raising my profile once more,
you lazy, popular bastard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">To his credit, he didn’t gloat but he did recognise the need to restore some of my credibility again simply by associating me vicariously with himself and he promised
that he’d give it some thought. Actually, it’s just occurred to me that those
elevated numbers were probably achieved by him visiting the blog to look at his
own contribution again and again and again. But I can’t afford to take chances
and so, rather than sign off as ‘Award-winning author Bill Kirton’, I’m happy
to acknowledge that the above was written by ‘The brother of Ron Kirton’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-42778462900344939802011-11-20T20:19:00.001+00:002011-11-20T20:32:24.710+00:00What identity crisis?<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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</div>
<br />
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fLWLLhKGB2o/Tsljogk54gI/AAAAAAAAAow/3WKD7QdBJp0/s1600/neg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fLWLLhKGB2o/Tsljogk54gI/AAAAAAAAAow/3WKD7QdBJp0/s320/neg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Cliché alert – ‘No two writers are the
same’. OK, good to get that out of my system, but there’s more because I also
think that ‘No ONE writer is the same’. Here’s what I mean.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">We all know the publishing business has
changed significantly and increasingly quickly over the past five years or so.
When I started writing novels as opposed to plays, you polished your MS,
printed out a copy (not cheap if it ran to 300-odd pages) and sent it out to
agents and/or publishers. Postage wasn’t cheap either, (you also had to cover
the costs for its return if they didn’t like it). Then, through the (sometimes)
months you waited for them to reply, you got on with the next novel. Meantime,
you also had your day job and you were a husband, wife, lover, significant
other, hermit, father, mother, son, daughter, outcast, or whatever other roles
your social situation imposed on you. See what I mean? There were (and are) several
people inhabiting your body. But, back then, the writer bit was just that – you
wrote, sent your stuff away, waited patiently but eagerly for a reply, got
rejected and did it all again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Today, though, even that writing bit has
fragmented. Being a writer doesn’t just involve the one role. There’s still the
writing (the best bit), but there’s also:</span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the PR person, desperately trying to create and project a
cuddly profile;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the fish out of water, trying to learn and apply marketing
techniques;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the social networker, scrolling through tweets and Facebook
comments with all the other writers;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the blogger, trying to sell books;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the prostitute, willing to do just about anything to be
published or shoved up the sales lists;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">the reviewer;</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">and, mostly, the unrecognised genius, whose blockbuster novel
will change the course of humanity but lies misunderstood in the depths of
a computer.</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I exaggerate, of course, but only on the
basis of fairly common experiences shared by many.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">But why am I saying stuff you all know
anyway? Because what I’m really doing (with very little subtlety) is boast.
I’ve already sent out a few tweets and FB comments saying how wonderful I am, and
this is another because yet another ‘self’ has been added to my list. I am now …
(discreet but still quite loud fanfare) … an ‘award-winning author’. My
publisher, Diane Nelson of Pfoxmoor Publishing, submitted two of my books to
the 2011 Forward National Literature Awards. <i>The Sparrow Conundrum</i> was the winner in the ‘Humor’ category, and <i>The Darkness</i> came second in the
‘Mystery’ category. OK, trumpet blown, so what?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">First, the news turned me into a six year
old on Christmas Eve. And yet, objectively, I’m not comfortable with the idea
of ‘competitive literature’. Even though I know there are terrible novels out
there as well as terrific ones, I applaud anyone who’s had the stamina and the
commitment to actually write one and see it through to the end. But if I deny
that we’re all in competition, where do sales figures fit in? In the end, being
able to add that little ‘award-winning’ tag to me and two of my books
theoretically gives me a wee marketing edge. I say ‘theoretically’ because I
don’t yet know whether that’ll be the case and, anyway, it’ll be up to me (the
sloth) to make it happen.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Perhaps more importantly, though, it opens
up another tricky area when it comes to the various ‘selves’ I was speaking of.
My two awards were for very different books. <i>The Sparrow Conundrum</i> is a spoof, <i>The Darkness</i> is a stark revenge/vigilante story with a pretty
chilling resolution. So what does that make me? A funny man or a scary man? And
what about the other stuff, the police procedurals, the historical, the
non-fiction and, most of all, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Stanley</st1:place></st1:city>’s
Boswell? Multiplying your ‘selves’ can be counter-productive.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Readers, naturally enough, like to know
what to expect when they buy a book. If they’ve enjoyed your gore-saturated
slasher mystery, they’ll probably feel cheated if your follow-up is a
light-hearted romantic romp through the tulips. In a way, then, they impose an
identity on you – and they have every right to do so. But what happens if it’s not
you but the characters in the follow-up who decide that they’ve gone off the
idea of being serial killers and instead want to fall in love and skip through
a field outside <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Amsterdam</st1:place></st1:city>?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">As I keep saying, ‘Hell is other people’
but it’s also readers and our characters.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">On the other hand, to end on another
cliché, I wouldn’t change it for the world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">(The above was written by award-winning
author Bill Kirton.)</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-81578094508690574072011-11-16T15:15:00.001+00:002011-11-18T09:51:51.186+00:00Amazon is my shepherd. I shall not want.<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RM1PR35hJG4/TsPTsz8BksI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/z2Qvlt8uoR0/s1600/car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RM1PR35hJG4/TsPTsz8BksI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/z2Qvlt8uoR0/s320/car.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those nice people at Amazon emailed me this morning to say there
was a book they were sure would be of great interest to me. And they were
right. The only problem was that I’d not only read it, I’d written it. The book
in question was the fourth in the series I’d written for Pearson, <i>Brilliant Workplace Skills</i>, and, to try
to penetrate and benefit from their marketing strategy, I asked myself why they
decided that that was the book for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First, why <i>Workplace Skills</i>
rather than the others? I’m well past retirement age and, in fact, I took early
retirement to concentrate on my writing, so I only share my office with me.
Which means I have little need for the book’s insights into topics such as promotion
prospects and how to enhance them, interpersonal relationships, office politics
and protocols, and (God forbid) romance in the workplace. So they couldn’t have
thought the content would be of interest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which leaves style. Maybe they thought ‘Ah, he’s a writer. He’ll
appreciate the finely rounded phrases here, the prose rhythms and cadences, the
immaculate structuring of arguments, the inspired organisation of the material
and the impeccable choice of words’. But no, style and content can’t be
separated so arbitrarily. And anyway, all of you, the sophisticated literates
who read these blogs, will already have curled a scornful lip at the
heavy-handed irony of those stylistic claims and judged that this paragraph is
merely a filler, a spurious pretence that this posting has a theme, a direction, a
purpose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what else? Maybe they’ve looked at my novels and decided that
the fiction writer in me needs to be mentored by his non-fiction counterpart.
After all, I’m clearly rubbish at writing crime novels. My detective makes
jokes, doesn’t have a drink or drug problem, isn’t particularly scruffy and
lives with a funny, attractive woman to whom he’s happily married. He cares
about people, too, and he’s more interested in truth than in justice, so he’s
obviously not cut out to be between the covers of a modern crime novel. And even
when I try history, the crime bit gets overtaken or at least muddied up by
romance. As for <i>The Sparrow Conundrum</i>,
what self-respecting auteur would admit to committing such rubbish to paper (or
screen)?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Or maybe there’s something else, something unthinkable really.
Maybe, in their desire to dominate the world and take the place of oxygen,
Amazon has lost the plot. Could it be that they … I hesitate to articulate it, but … do they perhaps not know much about books? Surely they don’t think <i>Brilliant Workplace Skills</i> is a … a
product, something electronic maybe, an executive toy, an object you put on
your desk and … well, play with until it’s time to go home. No, that can’t be
it. Amazon is the pinnacle of evolution, the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of refinement and civilisation. Amazon is the reason
the Big Bang happened. No, the fault must lie in me (and, no doubt, many other
writers). Amazon can’t have made a mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">(The car, by the way, is a 1956 Volvo Amazon. I got the picture
from Phil Seed’s Virtual Car Museum </span><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.philseed.com/volvo-121.html">http://www.philseed.com/volvo-121.html</a>.)</span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">P.S. OMG, as some people say, as if to demonstrate the truth of Amazon's omnipotence, as I was posting this, news came through that <i>The Sparrow Conundrum</i>, whose quality I so cheaply dismissed above, had been awarded first place for 'Humor' in the </span><span style="background-color: white;">2011 Forward National Literature Awards. I don't know what it means, but I'm bloody impressed.</span></span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-13140062267585025442011-11-07T16:02:00.000+00:002011-11-07T16:03:01.841+00:00Random musing, Wimbledon, stuff like that<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<span lang="EN-GB">Just some random thoughts provoked by recent events. No, not <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Greece</st1:place></st1:country-region> or the
Eurozone crisis, or the fact that there are 7 billion of us now (although the
concept of ‘us’ is laughable in the context of the generally accepted 99-1
wealth split). And it’s not the absurd fact that Berlusconi was ever allowed to
hold any sort of political office (or any other office than that of a brothel
concierge). And so on, and so on. No, we all have our convictions and hopes in
these matters of global concern; they don’t always coincide and no amount of
preaching or arguing changes things. Maybe if I had the occasional chat with
Jesus, he’d make my putts drop, but I don’t, so He helps my playing partners to
beat me. Serves me right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">So these random thoughts are on things of no significance to
anyone. They serve the Beckettian purpose of helping me pass the time. ‘We
always find something to give us the impression we exist’ says Estragon in <i>Godot</i>. So the more entertaining and
stress-free that ‘something’ is, the better.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Such as the recent academic
research that found that people born in August are:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-GB">a)<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-GB">less likely to get to the ‘better’ universities in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region>, and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-GB">b)<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-GB">less comfortable in social situations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The argument is that they’re the youngest
in their particular academic year and therefore 12 months behind their
classmates. What it adds up to is that you’re wasting your time reading this
and, if you’re a ‘follower’, you shouldn’t be. Because I was born in August,
which means that I’m congenitally thick, I don’t know words such as ‘congenitally’,
and I’m hopeless when it comes to engaging others in social interactions. (On
the other hand, I’m still 15 days more intelligent and sociable than my
daughter, who was born even later in August than I was. Except in a different
year.) (You see? That last remark was either a post-modern witticism on the
nature of time and progeniture, or clear proof of my disjunction from coherent
thought.) (It also gave me the chance to indulge my obvious predilection for
parentheses.) (But I’ll stop that now.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The only conclusion to be drawn from this
which might have some positive value is that, if any of you are planning to
have a baby, wait until January to make sure it’s born in September. I’m sure
you’ll be able to find other things to do between now and then.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Random thought 2 was provoked by a FaceBook
posting by my other daughter (who was born in April and is therefore much
cleverer than I am – in fact, so clever that she managed to be born just 12
hours before the end of the tax year, which at the time earned me an income tax
rebate). Anyway, she wrote that, the moment she hears a politician say ‘</span><span lang="EN-GB">Let’s be clear about
this’, she stops listening. Whereupon daughter 1 added that she has the same
reaction when they begin sentences with ‘Look’. My own contribution was that,
when they say ‘The fact is’ or, even worse ‘The fact of the matter is’, it’s a
clear signal that what follows will be fiction. So, even given the huge
intellectual distances separating us, it seems that we’re bound by quite close
family traits <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Speaking of family, here’s another aside which is an unashamed
boast. One of my granddaughters has been chosen to have free tennis tuition at
the All England Club (i.e. <st1:place w:st="on">Wimbledon</st1:place>) every
weekend. She's the red dot in the picture. She’s 5 years old so I anticipate a seat in the Royal Box in, say,
2026 to see her lift the trophy. I shall, of course, encourage her parents to
be ruthless in forcing her to practise, give up school, pleasures, TV,
boyfriends. She’ll be made to eat healthy food which tastes like cardboard, rise at 5 am to get her conditioning right and run
several miles before breakfast and after dinner each day. And I’m looking
forward with great eagerness to the day when she’ll be sponsored by
manufacturers of tennis shoes who pay workers in the Far East 25 cents a month
so that they have the necessary millions to spare on stars. Quite right, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Enough randomness. I was going to go on about those
incomprehensible souls who think ‘Second Place is just the first loser’ (Dale
Earnhart) or commentators like the British guy describing a race in the world
rowing championships who, when a British crew won, went all orgasmic, screaming
‘They don’t do bronze, they don’t do silver, they only do gold’. I’m not sure
what he said when he had to call home British crews who did ‘do’ silver or
bronze. Still, as Beckett (again) said ‘</span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: #181818; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">You're
on Earth. There's no cure for that’.</span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-48053064587040692242011-10-30T12:39:00.000+00:002011-10-30T12:39:56.808+00:00Vladimir Poignard - the interview<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
To celebrate a couple of milestones for the <a href="http://www.booksquawk.com/">Booksquawk </a>site to which I contribute reviews, I wrote what we called a spooftacular. And, since it seems that everyone grabs the excuse of Halloween to do a 'special', I thought I'd slavishly follow the fashion, join the flock, and share it here. Before this recording, all that was known of the person behind the wildly popular writer of such horror classics as <i><b>I Recognise The Neck But Who Does The Razor Belong To?</b></i> and <b><i>The Night Of The Haggis</i> </b>was that he lived somewhere in the north of England and had resolutely refused to be photographed or give interviews. I have no idea why his representatives agreed to allow me to meet him, and what follows is a rare aural document and a genuine scoop for the blog. Only three people were present at the recording: Vladimir, myself, and my wife, Carolyn.<br />
<br />
<object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F26592751">
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-70444622662394418002011-10-23T12:16:00.000+01:002011-10-23T12:18:20.089+01:00Guest blog – Social Media: a double-edged sword.<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By R. B. Wood<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtm8TSwrG9Bconv4PZgSjoZVcq-LfikbRXpFo93Zki7XB4uyS8RyWg3h2LQOPFRRjECBHvOMSr0ezMP1hWl-vVmckkqwa8UdHYiMAsPPspXyfExYQDwkWB-bXy-kLpMcc0MZ3hgVNpu2o/s1600/TPF_Small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtm8TSwrG9Bconv4PZgSjoZVcq-LfikbRXpFo93Zki7XB4uyS8RyWg3h2LQOPFRRjECBHvOMSr0ezMP1hWl-vVmckkqwa8UdHYiMAsPPspXyfExYQDwkWB-bXy-kLpMcc0MZ3hgVNpu2o/s1600/TPF_Small.jpg" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">(Richard
Wood is a friend whose first novel, <i>The Prodigal’s Foole</i>, has just
been published by Pfoxmoor. As part of his blog tour to celebrate its launch,
I’ve invited him to give us some observations on writing today. Here's what he
thinks.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">The
twenty-first century for writers is a marvelous time to be in the business.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">The
big six are trying to figure out what to do with the ebook revolution while
Amazon nips at their heels to eliminate the middlemen (namely agents and other
publishers).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Small
indie presses are popping out of the ground like daisies and the
self-publishing market is exploding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">What
does all of this have to do with social media and said internet tools being a
double-edged sword?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Let
an old man get to the point in his own way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Never
since the introduction of the printing press (“Gutenberg!” you all shout – no…
it was introduced much earlier. But that’s for another post), has there been
such a revolution in the writing/publication industry as that which we are
witnessing today. </span><span style="color: black;">The small and self-publishing
market alone has expanded dramatically <a href="http://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=387052581086893410" name="_GoBack"></a>and shows no
sign of slowing down.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Both
Bill Kirton and I are proud to be listed with other fine authors of the Pfoxpub
group, under the hardworking leadership of Ms. Diane Nelson. Pfoxpub, which encompasses
both the Pfoxmoor and more adult leaning Pfoxchase imprints, is one such small
press that has arrived on the scene to embrace the new publishing model.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRQOTajnbt3_7HRoaDeRsOTU78onls1pX5C9bPg6pzwLw-HHzDzZ5b0dRRERhbX0hxUVvo-KWOQvb-Ar-H3AvfwzXSdOfOTWec5pcQ64bppBoNgWnwCJday72lEgpFfBUlhapj9hapIo/s1600/041111richard182_reasonably_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRQOTajnbt3_7HRoaDeRsOTU78onls1pX5C9bPg6pzwLw-HHzDzZ5b0dRRERhbX0hxUVvo-KWOQvb-Ar-H3AvfwzXSdOfOTWec5pcQ64bppBoNgWnwCJday72lEgpFfBUlhapj9hapIo/s1600/041111richard182_reasonably_small.jpg" /></a><span style="color: black;">But
along with being in the literary company of a small cadre of excellent authors,
editors, and artists there comes a problem. See, the marketing budgets of the
‘Big Six’ are significantly larger than our budget. So how do we compensate for
this disparity?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Well,
the internet and social media of course. Told you I’d get there eventually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Tools
like Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn and Google+ are used with some success in
advertising our wares. We’ve done other internet-based marketing as well, from
blog tours to online trailers and from Writer websites to Facebook Fan pages
and participation in online forums. Social media has been a big part of
“getting the word out there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">But
it is a double-edged sword for two reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: black;">TIME</span></b><span style="color: black;"> – All of these activities take time away from the actual
writing. Websites need to be maintained. Twitter posts need to be consistent
and conversational. And don’t get me started on Facebook, which in my opinion
is the digital equivalent of the rabbit hole poor <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Alice</st1:place></st1:city> fell into. The Social Media
campaign takes time, planning and in some instances as much creativity as was
poured into the stories we want to sell in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Don’t
get me wrong. I’ve found loads of advice online for an “indie writer” such as
myself. I’ve made fantastic friendships (I’m proud to count Bill as one such
friend), found amazing critic partners and all have generally improved my
writing significantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Which
leads me to the other part of our imaginary blade:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: black;">90%</span></b><span style="color: black;"> <b>of those I’m connected with are writers.</b> This is
fantastic when you are just starting out. But make no mistake about it, most of
the folks you end up connecting with in the writing world are trying to sell
their own stories. And think about how many of your 2500 Twitter friends’ books
you’ve purchased in the past year. A dozen? Half-a-dozen?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">So
even in this new world of ebooks and social media, we writers are left with the
age old dilemma. Finding the READERS to go with all those writers whose company
you enjoy online.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Social
media will get the new millennium writer started. And you’ll be amazed at the
number of writers out there who will want to connect to you as well. But
remember two things about this new world we all are struggling with: limit/plan
your time on social media; and make sure you connect with readers of your genre
as well as those dear writer friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">Links
for Richard:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.rbwood.com/">Website/blog</a></div>
<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/the-word-count/id392550989">Podcast (The Word Count)</a></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/rbwoodwriter">Facebook</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMcZgia77E4">Trailer for <i>The Prodigal’s Foole</i></a><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Links for <i>The Prodigal's Foole</i>:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://bit.ly/pN6RbN">Smashwords</a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://amzn.to/n1GyEN">AmazonKindle US</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://amzn.to/rayVih">AmazonKindle UK</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://bit.ly/p5sxyH">OmniLit</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://bit.ly/ndyToU">ManicReader</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://amzn.to/pSFhpW">Amazon PAPERBACK</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://bit.ly/o3NJai">PreviewLink (Amazon)</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-853556924642869502011-10-14T14:33:00.001+01:002011-10-14T14:33:45.354+01:00Behind Shadow Selves<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAc5AzvjR6YGN96T2_yUoQSqSV2AbcUF95cp-w9Wio7R-ufJLyEW14I5awiYL5LLNyM4N856TRlbBilDko6DCPGjF9USFhJJHJkx28LfUNwjuiFGrkS8bvOCNpkJPr2LjlfzonEseIuQ/s1600/shadow+selves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAc5AzvjR6YGN96T2_yUoQSqSV2AbcUF95cp-w9Wio7R-ufJLyEW14I5awiYL5LLNyM4N856TRlbBilDko6DCPGjF9USFhJJHJkx28LfUNwjuiFGrkS8bvOCNpkJPr2LjlfzonEseIuQ/s400/shadow+selves.jpg" width="264" /></a><span lang="EN-GB">This week, the fourth novel in my Jack
Carston series, <i>Shadow Selves</i>, is out
as an ebook. It doesn’t have the same sort of back story as <i>The Darkness</i>, which I wrote about a
while ago – <a href="http://livingwritingandotherstuff.blogspot.com/2009/06/dish-served-cold.html">here</a></span>, in fact – but, like all the others, it
has special connotations for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The trigger was many years ago when my
friend, Donnie Ross, who was then an anaesthetist, said that if I ever wanted
to do some research on surgical procedures and operations generally, he could
arrange for me to visit an operating theatre and see how it all worked. My
first thought was that I’d probably faint, be a bloody nuisance and get in the
way, but it was a great chance to do some real observing, so I said ‘yes
please’. Just a few days later, I got the call and found myself in the theatre
wearing all the stuff you see on hospital telly shows and being so fascinated
by all that was going on that it never occurred to me to faint. In fact, the
operation scene in the book is a direct description of the experience and of
the astonishing business of being prepared to dig around in someone’s thorax
amongst all the lungs, heart and other stuff that’s packed and folded away
there.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">But I wasn’t planning a book involving
surgical things or anaesthetics, so the notes sat in the computer. For ages,
though, I’d been toying with the idea of setting one of my books in a
university context. I used to be a university lecturer and I’ve done writing
fellowships at three others, so I knew something about the settings and what
goes on there. The problem, however, came from something I’ve mentioned before
– a lot of my thoughts of academia involved other people and fiction doesn’t
work (for me, at least), if your head’s full of real people. If you find
yourself thinking ‘Oh, this character’s like so-and-so’, the character can’t
develop in his or her own right. The real person gets in the way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">So I had to work hard to take myself and my
ex-colleagues out of my thinking and start from relationships rather than let
the characters decide the relationships beforehand. In the end, they grabbed
their independence and, since I didn’t know them and they weren’t based on any
memories or specific realities, they had room to surprise me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The reality I didn’t change, and it’s one
which has worsened rather than improved, is the significant transformation that
took place in many institutes of higher education, beginning in the 80s, with
Thatcher’s insistence on ‘leaner, fitter’ establishments. I know I’m
generalising but, before then, education combined the close study of your
chosen subjects and topics with the freedom to investigate beyond them, to
develop a broader cultural awareness. It provoked and encouraged you to be
intellectually curious about everything. Post Thatcher, it became a
student-processing, goals-orientated, vocational experience with too many boxes
to tick to spend time on thinking, reflection, broader investigations.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I’ve said it before, but academic life was
marvellous – sitting around with young, intelligent, interested people talking
about books, and getting paid for it. And yet, beneath the urbane, learned
surfaces, the most bizarre thinking sometimes went on and apparent intellectual
giants behaved like schoolkids. The title, <i>Shadow
Selves</i>, relates to this phenomenon. It’s from Carl Jung, who wrote ‘Everyone
carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious
life, the blacker and denser it is’. So here, the lecturers, surgeons,
anaesthetists, nurses – and, yes, the police too – all have these shadows, but
it’s not necessarily the blacker ones that cause all the damage.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Commercial break. You can get Shadow Selves
at:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Selves-Carston-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B005VCRSQQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1318598617&sr=8-1">Amazon <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region></st1:place></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Shadow-Selves-Carston-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B005VCRSQQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1318598557&sr=8-1">Amazon <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://bit.ly/r1PQpw">Smashwords </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://bit.ly/oK0sB2">OmniLit</a></span></div>
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-46508945295272363412011-10-11T10:51:00.000+01:002011-10-11T10:51:11.860+01:00The view from the virtual world<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Ghsf7ZteBy7WdoGJV5evma_IRcO9HDk8zY9i-6ja5JRBmWxsPiE-y3n4-7DhID4_TEZ-czin8Fz5dJ2VjUN3Xjl9kqw_ROypgZECaJO1xTj45Oikz59fs8etJ9U7-rOUX1MdEkwGUd0/s1600/z23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Ghsf7ZteBy7WdoGJV5evma_IRcO9HDk8zY9i-6ja5JRBmWxsPiE-y3n4-7DhID4_TEZ-czin8Fz5dJ2VjUN3Xjl9kqw_ROypgZECaJO1xTj45Oikz59fs8etJ9U7-rOUX1MdEkwGUd0/s320/z23.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Some gratifying news this week. First, Pearson want me to write two more books in their 'Brilliant' series, then an email to say that the first one I wrote for them, <i>Brilliant Study Skills</i>, is being translated into Spanish for the north and south American markets. The new books are needed for March next year so I won't be able to indulge my idleness until the spring. On top of that, the Pfoxmoor edition of the next Jack Carston mystery, <i>Shadow Selves</i>, will be out soon and the fifth (and perhaps final) one has been written and will be appearing next year.<br />
<br />
All of which is very nice but will put the brakes on the audio tracks I've been doing recently. That's been fun, largely because I love finding technology simple enough for me to use. I hope it's been useful, too. The idea is always to try to attract readers and whatever methods are available, we have to use them.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'll still add audio extracts to the list on the right now and then but this one is different. It's a story from a batch I wrote a while ago when I was playing the online game Second Life™ . It's a fascinating game and I met some interesting people there, some of whom are still good friends. But it certainly sets your mind working on the whole business of virtual and real worlds, and technological advances are so fast that any stories you write about them can be out of date by the following day. I have a batch of these stories but they'll probably never appear for precisely that reason. On
the other hand, the real interest lies in the fact that the avatars and
impossible contexts of virtual worlds are still manipulated and populated by
normal people with familiar, maybe even eternal hungers, curiosities, foibles
and all the other things that provide us with material for our fictions.<br />
<br />
This one moves through the screen and looks back at our world through the eyes of an avatar. Warning - it contains rude words and adult content (but definitely not of the titillating variety). I'd appreciate your comments - positive or negative.<br />
<br />
<object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F25272664">
</param>
<param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always">
</param>
<embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F25272664" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <a href="http://soundcloud.com/bill-kirton/the-view-from-here">Audio track - The view from here</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/bill-kirton">Bill Kirton</a>
<br />
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</script>Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-38652382191754940202011-10-06T15:10:00.002+01:002011-10-06T15:11:56.721+01:00Extract of Sparrow<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqdE-Yz_WslzJYl4NIjg_nY_Fzbnft-RwD31YgD24RrbfaYzVlE8K1JzbAKfRE0sTI59LKkyvbkKWy3tPh7nfgABmQERcM0Pnps8a1oalwexUO-mEWyGVCx2ADWunmpRzaVcz-_puMUk/s1600/Sparrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqdE-Yz_WslzJYl4NIjg_nY_Fzbnft-RwD31YgD24RrbfaYzVlE8K1JzbAKfRE0sTI59LKkyvbkKWy3tPh7nfgABmQERcM0Pnps8a1oalwexUO-mEWyGVCx2ADWunmpRzaVcz-_puMUk/s320/Sparrow.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<br />
No, not the latest gastronomic delight from one of the army of today's chefs who spend their time not on cooking but on arranging mutilated vegetables and fragments of meat in artistic patterns on a plate or slate or lump of driftwood before drizzling balsamic fuel over them and scraping a smear of something along the edge of the confection. This is a wee experiment. I've recorded another extract from The Sparrow Conundrum and thought it would be a good idea to embed it in the blog. You may or may not agree but, for those of you with time to spare, you can click the play button at the top of the column on the right and listen. I'm sure you'll let me know the wisdom or otherwise of the initiative. It's the moment when, having had his garden (and a relief postman) blown up, Chris Machin (aka Sparrow) is visited by the sociopathic Detective Inspector Lodgedale as he's eating breakfast.<br />
<br />
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Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-37481022323295526052011-10-03T21:59:00.002+01:002011-10-03T21:59:48.151+01:00Les Voiles de Saint Tropez<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
This is
hard to write because it features a conflict between my social and political
principles and my <span style="background: white; color: black;">sybaritic
tendencies. For the past week, we’ve been the guests of very generous friends
who have a place in the south of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">France</st1:place></st1:country-region> near to St Tropez. They
hired a car and a very fast and quite big boat – the sort that usually has
women with long legs and bikinis lying on the foredeck. In this case, there
were no women but, at the other end, there were 2 Honda 225 4-stroke engines.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was moored at the bottom of the patio where, on
evenings when we weren’t at a restaurant, we sat drinking wine and eating
rillettes, pâtés, cheese and the like, with the sun setting over the <st1:place w:st="on">Mediterranean</st1:place> beside us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Every morning there was a gorgeous orange dawn
then, after breakfast, we just stepped up onto the bow, untied a couple of
lines and motored slowly out of the port. Once on the open water, we could ease
the throttles forward and skim out to watch the hundreds of sailing boats
taking part in the annual ‘Voiles de Saint Tropez’ regatta.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I love sailing boats and this was a gathering of
some of the most beautiful examples of the various designs and rigs, from
smaller cruisers to enormous racing yachts with crews in the twenties and vast
sails. Time after time, I marvelled at the fact that we were cruising along
surrounded by hundreds of sails, nearby and filling the horizon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The sun shone all week and, altogether, it was
like living a fantasy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The quaysides in St Tropez were thronged with
tanned and beautiful people who could obviously afford the £85 they were being
charged for T-shirts. They strolled along beside the moored boats, admiring the
masts and spars, the brass and copper fittings, the strange coexistence of the
seemingly conflicting trappings of hard racing and unashamed luxury.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And there I was, amongst it all, not bothering to
remark on the transitory nature of material things, such as the boats and the
people, and me. I was just in the moment, enjoying it. There was a statue of
good old Sisyphus there, too, but somehow it expressed the positive aspect of
what he represented, the way he triumphed over things, despite their
meaninglessness, the way he engaged with life. So my tedious philosophising was
stilled. It had no place in such an intensely physical environment. Nothing
needed to mean anything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But… yes, there’s a but…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">… there was a bitterness in the concentration of
so much richness, so much luxury; of millions of pounds, dollars, euros being
in the hands of a minority who indulge every whim with no awareness of or
concern for those who have to live for months and months on a fraction of what
they pay to moor their boat for the week. And I was as guilty as the rest,
forcing myself to close my mind to that huge gap, unrecognised by those on the
privileged side of it. Yes, the privileged ones, like me. I had a great time,
but what a pity it’s not accessible to everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-59558224659189006702011-09-20T18:07:00.000+01:002011-09-20T18:07:39.101+01:00War Horse, but not the movie.<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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<span lang="EN-GB">I’ve been involved in theatre in various
ways over the years, writing, directing and acting in plays, watching
performances by amateurs and professionals, and scratching my head at some of
the things critics have raved about.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">There was a time when we’d arrange to go to
<st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">London</st1:place></st1:city> for the
weekend and cram in as many plays as we could. In those days it wasn’t cheap
but at least you didn’t have to take out a second mortgage to get even the
cheapest ticket. The problem was, though, that much of what we’d actually
chosen to see – because it had been recommended, well reviewed, or featured a
favourite actor or director – was crap. The house lights went down, the curtain
went up and, within 10 minutes, we knew we’d condemned ourselves to an hour or
so of purgatory until the first interval set us free.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Simon Russell Beale was brilliant in
<i>Richard III</i> but we sat through all of his <i>Hamlet </i>getting more and more angry at
the sight of the actors going through the motions. An American visitor in front
of us fell asleep very early only to leap to her feet and applaud wildly when
it was over. All the critics had said it was a brilliant production so I
suppose, even though audiences were bored out of their skulls by the insults to
their intelligence they were seeing, they were afraid to disagree with the
arbiters of taste and excellence.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">But that’s just one example, and I’m just
saying this to admit that, much, maybe even most of the time, theatre is
embarrassingly bad. And that’s a great shame because when it works, it’s
unbeatable. Sam West’s <i>Hamlet </i>was a triumph – it made you leave the theatre
thinking you were somehow complicit in the nasty politics that had gone on
onstage.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Last Friday, though, with my son, I went to
the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New London</st1:place></st1:city>
theatre to see <i>War Horse</i>, and, for nearly three timeless hours, I forgot who I
was and was grabbed by the experience and dragged through most of the emotions
of which I’m capable. The movie may prove to be brilliant – it’s Spielberg
after all – but the beautiful horses he’ll have gathered for his shots won’t
have anything like the realism and character that the puppeteers managed to
give those on the stage. In every single way, the performances, the effects,
the sounds and music, the wholeness of the thing were astonishing. We watched a
cavalry charge in World War I, horses fighting for supremacy in a paddock, the
transformation of an awkward young colt into a big thoroughbred in an instant –
and all of these creatures were being manipulated by people. But, within minutes,
I stopped seeing the people and only saw horses.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I always make my blogs too long and, if I
tried to convey even a part of the full experience, I’d need this to be even
longer, so take a quick look at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-bni4QqSv4">this trailer</a> for the stage play, not the movie,
and you’ll get a tiny fraction of a glimpse of a mind-blowing experience (my
words are so inadequate for things such as this). It’s beyond analysis so, if
you get the chance to see it on stage, sell everything you have to get a ticket. It's an astonishing, visceral, truly cathartic experience.</span></div>
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Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-25563555317398501582011-09-16T12:26:00.000+01:002011-09-16T12:26:00.913+01:00OK, I miscounted, but this is definitely the last one (I think).<div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style" expr:addthis:title="data:post.title" expr:addthis:url="data:post.url">
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In previous posts, by 'penultimate', I meant 'ante-penultimate' and by 'the last' I meant 'not the last'. The answers below, however, are the only ones which remain from my Pfoxmoor author friends: <span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"><a href="http://on.fb.me/pq6sVY">Maria Kuroshchepova</a>,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.rbwood.com/">R B Wood</a>,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"><a href="http://gretavanderrol.com/">Greta van der Rol</a>,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.tulagihotel.com/">Heikki Hietala</a>,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"><a href="http://michaelpollack.com/">Michael Pollack</a>,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"><a href="http://gevsweeney.blogspot.com/">Gev Sweeney</a></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black;">and <a href="http://sesshabattousai.com/">Sessha Batto</a>.</span></span></div>
<br /><b>What do you think of the word ‘nice’? In what contexts would you use it?</b><br /><br />(MK) Can’t stand it. People use it when they have nothing good to say about this. “I’ve written a book” “Aww, isn’t that nice.” Or “So what do you think of this painting?” “Oh, you know... It’s... nice”. I sometimes use it as approval for a joke or a clever statement - but in those cases I write it out in all caps.<div>
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(RBW) It’s one of those fluffy words that is so overused it becomes meaningless.</div>
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(GvdR) It is the most obnoxious adjective I can think of, especially when diluted even further with the word ‘quite’. It’s the sort of word you use to describe something you think is nauseating but you don’t wish to be rude.</div>
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(HH) Nice is a non-word that should be reserved for those moments when you have absolutely nothing to say.</div>
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(MP) It’s a weak word. I use it when I can’t find anything nice to say.</div>
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(GS) .”Nice,” to me, implies “meh.” “Okay.” “Polite.” “Sunny within the confines of sociability.” “Unwild.” “Non-controversial.” “Something that has the potential for becoming worse, if not bad.” “Have a nice day.” Heh heh …</div>
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<br />(SB) It’s a complete and total nonentity of a word. Nice means boring, inoffensive, bleh that you couldn’t care enough about to come up with a description for. Not bad necessarily, but most surely boring. I use it when I don’t want to offend but have nothing positive to say.<br /><br /><br /><b>Would you like to be immortal? Why or why not? </b><br /><br />(MK) Yes. All the shit I could learn! But I want to retain youth and health too. Being an immortal wreck of a person does not appeal to me.</div>
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<br />(RBW) No. The thought of outliving my children is far to sad to contemplate.</div>
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(GvdR) I’d only want to be immortal if I could be immortal in a much younger body and if I had some immortal mates. But I can’t help but feel that Isaac Asimov was right about over-long lifetimes, let alone immortality. It leads to stagnation of the species.</div>
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<br />(HH) Funny you should ask that as I am working on a scifi shortie on that very theme. I’d never want to be immortal. In fact, I believe you have seen all you need to see by the age of 75. Reincarnation rules.</div>
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<br />(MP) No. Life is a constant beat-down. An 80-year stretch trying to find the sparkle in an otherwise strife-filled life seems long enough to me. I’ll embrace death when it comes… just not quite yet… I’m not done with my work.</div>
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(GS) Yes. To pass on the message that despite changes in fashion and technology, people are inherently the same now as they were centuries ago and will continue to remain the same centuries from now.</div>
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<br />(SB) Never! I think it would be terribly depressing to see everyone you know wither and pass away. I’d much rather ride the wheel again and come back in my next life and start all over. If I could remember the lessons I’d learned in this life, so much the better.<br /></div>
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THE END (MAYBE)</div>
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Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-387052581086893410.post-61673792612482400192011-09-13T11:28:00.000+01:002011-09-13T13:03:03.186+01:00Bloke who knew Questionnaire slightly when they were students togetherThe last revelations from my author friends at Pfoxmoor: <a href="http://on.fb.me/pq6sVY">Maria Kuroshchepova</a>, <a href="http://www.rbwood.com/">R B Wood</a>, <a href="http://gretavanderrol.com/">Greta van der Rol</a>, <a href="http://www.tulagihotel.com/">Heikki Hietala</a>, <a href="http://michaelpollack.com/">Michael Pollack</a>, <a href="http://gevsweeney.blogspot.com/">Gev Sweeney</a> and <a href="http://sesshabattousai.com/">Sessha Batto</a>.<br />
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<b>Your fairy godmother grants you a wish. You can curl up in front of the fire with your favourite object. What is it? (NOTE. You can define `object’ in any way you like.) </b><br />
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(MK) Just one object? Can I make the object a collection? I mean - a corporation is like a person in some respects, so can an assembly of objects count as an object? Because that would include: two gigantic pillows, my favorite wrap, all my animals, including husband, and a stack of books. Oh, and there would be some chocolate and alcohol involved in there somewhere too.</div>
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(RBW) A legal document granting me full custody of my children.</div>
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(GvdR) I would like an object that would have me looking the way I did at age 30, thanks ever so.</div>
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(HH) I’d want a teleporter to be able to go see the M41 up close, pop out to anywhere in the world, and finally, back in time to see who killed Kennedy.</div>
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(MP) A metallic blue Kirsten Dunst comes to mind, but I’ll go with: my MacBook Pro.</div>
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(GS) I’d be curling up in front of that fire in the favourite overstuffed chair from the house where I grew up.</div>
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(SB) Only one?! It would have to be one of my swords . . . but I’d have to cut with them all first to make up my mind, decisions, decisions . . . <br />
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<b>A beggar sitting on a blanket on the pavement (OK, sidewalk, if you insist), says as you pass, `Fortune has favoured you but looks less kindly on deprived and desperate beings such as myself. It would be a kindness if you were to redistribute some of your wealth to redress the balance between you and I’. What do you reply? (NOTE for grammar nerds like me – I deliberately chose ‘I’ instead of the correct ‘me’ to set up my own answer.)</b><br />
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(MK) I grab him and take him somewhere for a cup of soup, during which I figure out why he is a beggar and what we can do short- and long-term to get him out of this predicament. I know it sounds uber-corny, but seriously, that’s what I would do. Blame it on Chris Gardner (for those who don’t know - the author of “Pursuit of Happyness”).</div>
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(RBW) I would say: “I have no cash, but would like to take you for a hot meal and a long conversation” (paid for via credit card.)</div>
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(GvdR) I’m an author. I’m probably more deprived than you are.</div>
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(HH) I’m a fatalist in matters of the wallet.</div>
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(MP) Stop begging. Pick yourself up and find work. God helps those who help themselves, and that seems like a damned fine policy. If there truly is no way that you can find a job in America legally plying some skill or another, then I will help you as I can and ask others to do the same.</div>
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(GS) I have my own place on the pavement.</div>
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(SB) I’m terribly afraid you have me confused with someone else – after a career in the arts, believe me, I have not a penny to my name. <br />
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Bill Kirtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07675643113010061969noreply@blogger.com1