ESCAPE TO AN EASTER OASIS

On March 25, 2015March 27, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing12 Comments

Imagine a place far out in the Swedish forest. It’s half a mile to the nearest neighbour whilst other houses are scattered miles apart. The road is a dirt track with deep ditches on either side. Just there, to the right is the property, two houses set upon a land twice the size of a football pitch. This is my haven for the next two weeks over Easter.

Pure tranquility – as pure as the air from the hundred, nay, thousands of trees around. Pure tranquility – as pure as the water which pumps from 80 m below the ground. No television, telephone or wifi. Peace and quiet. Don’t worry though, there is electricity and all the mod cons, so we’re living in warmth and comfort.

It takes a while to tune into the silence, to hear the individual birds, to become aware of the different tones of the breeze. The tempo of our days slow until time itself seems to slacken and the days stretch appealingly in front of us. No rushing. No staring at screens.

In lieu of television an afternoon is happily spent sitting inside with a cup of tea watching the thunderstorm wreak havoc upon the land as puddles are turned into mini-lakes and the fir trees enter into a ferocious frenzied dance. We take time to listen to the hail crashing outside. The force of nature overwhelming and once again I am reminded about my small place on this planet.

In the morning I wander the land, clutching my orange juice in frigid fingers, negotiating the uneven ground in my clumsy wellies, my dressing gown flapping round my legs. I stop and raise my face to the dappled morning sunlight falling through the birch trees, whilst in the distance I spy the mist hovering above a field, drifting, floating wistfully away as the sun’s rays strike them.

In the shade I study the intricate cobwebs which lay frozen stiff, their delicate threads an intriguing puzzle of designs. Glistening in the morning frost they are small sample last night’s wondrous creations. Nature’s own art gallery, free to browse. I just have to make sure I am up early enough!

Silence. Quiet. Did I mention that? No cars. No machinery. Just the peace.

This is where I will be this Easter, relaxing, being with my family and I look forward to coming home refreshed and with renewed energy.

Although I might not be able to post until my return I do have access to my neighbours’ iPad and hope to pop across now and then and see what you’ve all been up to.

I look forward to sharing more with you upon my return after the Easter holiday.

Have a very happy Easter break everyone.

“Some old-fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat.”

Laura Ingalls Wilder

My Desk – A Reflection of My Life

On March 24, 2015March 24, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing11 Comments

As I approach my desk for round two of my writing session this morning I smile at the disarray of objects upon its surface.

A white feather quill pen is in the furtherest corner, a birthday present from my son a few years ago ‘to help with your writing Mamma’. Five pencils are lined up, ready to be sharpened. They have lain there for three weeks, dull and useless, with pens and a fountain pen tipped over them. In this heap are my ubiquitous Hals throat lozenges; these are littered wherever I sit down to work or read and if none are in the house I feel bereft and unable to concentrate.

Near the quill pen is a 16 inch tall cardboard cut-out of Heisenberg from ‘Breaking Bad’ complete with yellow suit and gas mask. I am a total fan of the series and am currently going through cold turkey after viewing the final episode.

Next to him are two postcards; one from Vietnam showing a typical floating market in the Mekong Delta. This is from a friend travelling there as I write. The other card is one I bought at The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge after seeing the Claude Monet’s ‘Springtime’ (1886) there. Next to them stands a thank you card from another friend. Its brightly coloured flowers in equally decorative pots brighten this grey March day and shows how well she knows pot-mad me.

Bored yet? I hope not. Luckily this is a rather large wooden desk, with lots of room for knickknacks and every morning my iPad and I fight the same battle to make space for my keyboard and cup of tea. Yes, this was the reason for my break and with the fiercest of ginger tea – the one in the red packaging – I am sipping it from the mug bought for me by my son for my last birthday. On it are the words ‘Go away I’m writing’. I love it so. My only regret, I wish I was bothered by more visitors so I could swing the cup and its message at them.

For some quick music I lean over and switch on my pink iPod and to tell the time I look at my pink Beetle car ornament with clock in its door. There is more as a cuddly bear (from my son) cradles the sign 40 – so you know my age or so now! Then a sweet ornament of a boy lays on his side, engrossed in a book (from my mother).

A giant black Helix lamp is adorned with my costume jewellery, dangling down in shades of white, grey and gold. On either side of my iPad are various notebooks, A4 writing pads and files. Upon some are doodles I draw whilst thinking or talking on the phone. My reading glasses lay unused to one side as my eyes are still undecided if with or without is better for working on the computer.

To my right the beginning of my packing pile for the Easter holiday is growing with a shower cap perched precariously on my pink Blott writing pad and a turquoise nail varnish balanced on the edge of the desk. By my side rests my iPhone, an item, which for better or worse, has become an extension of my arm. Last but not least, my two coasters, a tile one made by son as young in primary school, the other one a heart shape bead one made many years ago by my niece.

I never realised how my family and friends surround me on a typical writing day, that one glance up is rewarded with a a sparkle of love and warmth. And yes, fun too.

I would love to hear about your working space / desks. What surrounds you? Or do you prefer a clean tidy area in which to work? What precious items are there for you to look up at?

“To bring your attention to a stone, a tree or an animal does not mean to think about it, but simply to perceive it, to hold it in your awareness.”

By Eckhart Tolle

Small, Smaller, Smallest

On March 22, 2015March 20, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing17 Comments

What do you think is the world’s smallest book?

I wondered this myself after my son quoted from one of his factual books that the world’s smallest book could fit into a nutshell.

Intrigued I set out to gather information. Indeed there is a book which could easily fit in a nutshell.

Created in 1952 by the Gutenberg Shop to raise funds for its museum in Mainz, Germany the book measures only 3.5 mm by 3.5 mm. It contains the Lord’s Prayer in seven languages and the pages can only be turned with a pair of tweezers and requires a magnifying glass to be read.

The book is made in the traditional manner, with letter printing, bound in leather, hand stitched and completed with gold cross on cover and gold blocking.

However, even smaller in depth is the smallest bible in the world, the nano bible. Forget paper, printing and leather binding, this bible is a silicon wafer chip measuring 4.76 mm – as large as a finger-nail.

It contains all the 27 books of the New Testament. Although you can have the book with you at all times – now offered as part of jewellery, there is one serious snag. You better not forget to bring a microscope along!

According to Guinness World Record however, the smallest book is the minute hair-width ‘Teeny Ted from Turnip Town’. Created in a nano laboratory in Canada, this 30 page tale is only visible through the use of an electron microscope as it is printed on a microchip tablet made from pure crystalline silicon.

This labour of love cost nearly £10,000. The book, which has its own ISB number, was made by the Robert Chaplin at the Simon Fraser University, in British Columbia, Canada. The story was written by his brother Malcolm as a distraction from his economics studies in 2007.

To the left the is the small book chip set next to a thin scratch in a piece of glass.

After all that I’m off to read a book – one that can be held in my hand, legible to the naked eye and not worn as a piece of jewellery!

“Never put off till tomorrow what may be done day after tomorrow just as well.”

by Mark Twain Photos: From DailyMaill online or otherwise where stated.

DON’T PANIC

On March 18, 2015March 19, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing7 Comments

The Wall.

Everyone has heard about The Wall faced by marathon runners during competitions and with family members who have run the 26.4 miles, I have listened aghast to their descriptions of pain and fatigue. In quiet awe I have seen them overcome this obstacle and continue to the finish. I just never imagined I too would one day face the wall, not through running but through my writing.

Although a ferocious reader since young, I honestly never considered the effort and work required to produce a book. I hold up my hands in surrender, ‘mea culpa, mea culpa’, I was one of those, taking books for granted, their magic appearance on the shelves almost a matter of routine.

Now I know better and since there is a long way until any book of mine might be produced I am fully aware that my learning curve is long and steep. I am only on the start of the climb and have reached my first base camp.

At just under 50,000 words on my first draft I hit The Wall. Friday afternoon at ten to one. With a marathon writing session completed, I stopped typing. For the first time in a couple of hours I lifted my head from the screen and saw the white doves circling the rooftops and garden. My heart tried a bounce of joy. To no avail. Confused I headed to the kitchen, my legs heavy and my body surprisingly fatigued. A cup of tea and some biscuits, that would help. Wouldn’t it? Picking up the newspaper on the table, tea in my other hand, letters swam around in a swarm on the paper. Finally they settled into a mishmash of words, all individually comprehensible but my mind refused to stay with them and instead floated away, blitzing its way through the morning’s writings, its ideas, plots, characters, twists. Resigned I put down my cup.

This must be my wall. My creative meltdown.

‘DON’T PANIC’.

The famous words written on the cover of ‘The Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy’ sprung to mind that afternoon and I found them oddly comforting. When I thought about returning to the writing my mind froze.

Don’t Panic.

What could I manage to do? Some gardening and with secateurs in hand I turned into the demon bush pruner – with glee attacking dead twigs in the garden, cutting bushes to within a few inches of their lives. My mind did not think, it just was. Pure bliss. Afterwards housework tasks were no longer a chore, but completed with satisfaction. I knew this couldn’t hold out for too long.

Don’t Panic.

Relaxed that the wall was being chipped away, that I would soon return to the first draft, I decided not to push too hard, to force myself against such a obstruction. By Monday afternoon ironing had lost its glow and I resumed my other writing tasks. A short story for a competition and then preparing my next blog post.

I had named this blog a journey – hoping to capture reader’s interest and imagination and bring them along on a journey as I wrote the first draft of a book. What I had not anticipated was the emotional journey within myself.

Having read countless ‘how-to’ articles in writing magazines as well as a few books on how to write a novel I am now struck that none mentioned the emotional impact of such an undertaking.

Not until I hit the wall. Now, with a good rest, the house gleaming and garden ready for some new plants, I am ready. With my mind exercised with alternative writing, I am ready. Refreshed both body and mind, I sit down and feverishly start typing. After all, there is another 50,000 words or so to go!

“I like the cover,’ he said. ‘Don’t Panic. It’s the first helpful or intelligent thing anybody’s said to me all day.’

Douglas Adams in ‘The Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy’.

Beak of Life

On March 15, 2015March 15, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing12 Comments

A dull thud against the glass kitchen door broke my morning reverie.

Blissfully I had been admiring the daffodils dancing in the breeze.For a second I muttered at the four bull-finches, vexed at their monopolisation of the bird-feeder.

‘Let the others on, you bullies,’ my mind signalled to them. Did they listen?

Not a chance. I espied an eager robin fluttering below the feeder, then with sudden decisiveness he darted to the fence post. My patient gardening buddy, who alas has a long wait until I weed the borders and he can scour for worms left behind.

Then thwack.

Standing by the door I looked down and spotted a little grey-blue bird lying still on its side.

‘A nuthatch,’ my husband told me confidently. ‘Made a bit of a hatchet job there,’ he added, chuckling at his own witticism. I glared at him before examining the bird again.

He moved, ever so slightly, still alive! His head and body twitched and his beady black eyes stared accusingly at me. ‘It’s a door, to our house,’ I retorted telepathically, ‘we need those things, doors!’

Another nuthatch flew down to join his friend and nervously he hopped in circles around him.

Braving my silhouette he approached the stricken nuthatch before abruptly leaping upon him. Swiftly he gave his friend the ‘beak of life’. A couple of pecks on his head, then some around the beak of the injured bird.

It was humbling to witness this love of the avian variety.

However soon I became alarmed as the first signs of affection turned to violence. The pecking intensified to vicious jabs at the now seemingly lifeless bird.

I knocked forcefully on the glass and reluctantly the fit nuthatch skittered away to the lawn. There he stopped and looked at his friend. I too glanced down.

A wonder! The dazed bird wobbled uncertainly on it’s two feet. Would it soon be strong enough to hop around? Was there a chance he could fly away? I remained hopeful and giving him peace to recover I moved away – after all there was breakfast to prepare.

With the three assorted cereals tipped into their bowls, toast ready, orange juices poured, tea pot overflowing, I cautiously edged towards the door.

Outside on the bird feeder there was the normal feeding frenzy – but on the patio or lawn there was no sign of our two special visitors who caused the morning’s excitement.

Robust and fit enough to fly away; they had departed. A little nuthatch rescued by his fellow friend.

What love, courage and devotion. My heart stilled for moment. Maybe here was a lesson for us all.

————————————————

To finish a quick message on this special Sunday here in the UK to all Mums out there – a Happy Mother’s Day to you all and have a thoroughly enjoyable day being spoilt! I am!

A Midwife’s Revolt: A Book Review

On March 12, 2015March 12, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Book Reviews9 Comments

Painting: Courtesy of B.Haynie

Recently I had the opportunity to join NetGalley, an online book reviewing organisation. Publishers send in their books months prior to release and ‘professional readers’ are then asked to review the book. The feedback and recommendations are considered highly valuable to the publishers and future readers alike.

I will be reviewing one new book here on my blog on a monthly basis – do look out for them and hope you enjoy the reviews.

The Midwife’s Revolt by Jodi Daynard

Within the first few sentences, this book immediately and powerfully transported me to the life of women left behind home during the American Revolution.

The story follows newly-wed Lizzie Bolyston as she sets up home on a farm on the outskirts of a new town South of Boston.

Related in Lizzie’s voice the reader quickly enters the head and heart of this strong young lady as she faces increasingly tougher struggles.

Firstly grief blindsides her but with help of friends she slowly overcomes both this and then the prejudice to what is regarded as her ‘witch’ like skills of healing and midwifery. She is exceptional in both and gradually, the ‘medical arts’ taught to her by her mother, help provide a living for Lizzie whilst saving dozens of lives.

As the war deepens Lizzie finds herself embroiled in political intrigue centred around her close friend Abigail Adams, the wife of the future Second President of America. For a while Lizzie even finds herself attempting to disguise herself as a man during her espionage escapades. After all, the book starts with the sentence: ‘My father once told me I had the mind of a man.’

However this is not a traditional thriller as parallel to the assassinations and treachery runs various strands of the romantic nature.

Lizzie finds herself courted by a man, Mr Cleverly- but can she trust him? Equally she is attracted to another, Thomas Miller – yet again she is faced with the same dilemma of those unstable times – is he trustworthy?

The actions of her servant and close friend Martha also raises further doubts as to faithfulness and friendship. This suspicion causes great heart-ache for both women. Life for them all is never simple nor straight forward and nothing is quite what it seems.

I must make a quick mention to another powerful being in the book, whose existence is still etched on my brain – the wonderful and faithful horse, ‘Star’, her husband’s beloved animal. Life is never fair, Star!

Jodi Daynard’s writing is fluid throughout and its authentic contemporary feel never wavers. At times I have to remind myself this was actually a work of fiction and not a factual story.

The harsh and bleak life is brilliantly rendered, so raw I suffered with the women through their troubles and the winters of hunger. How I celebrated with them as they ate their far too rare servings of warm apple pie!

Their struggles with the farm are graphically related and whilst celebrating feminism and its strength, I rejoiced when they received the occasional help from a man with some of the hard graft.

The book climaxes with a dramatic battle on their very doorstep where the battles of the heart are reconciled and the future of America is more secured.

Although I approached this book with trepidation – the time period alone of the American Revolution filled me with fear – I can honestly say there is never a boring moment in the book.

It has a strong pace throughout, the characters, whether good or evil, are vividly portrayed and the true grit and courage of the women shine through.

This is truly a gem of a book. Do read it now and escape into the past!

Publishers: Lake Union Publishing

Release date: 7th April 2015

N E W S F L A S H N E W S F L A S H N E W S F L A S H

I just found out that I am now on the short list on the Ink Tears Short Story Competition 2014.

Yes, I am thrilled to have reached this far.

Winners will be announced end of this month.

“From the eyes to the river

From the river to the sea

From the sea to darkening clouds

From the sky back down to me

Follow my tears…”

by Eddie Reader, singer/songwriter

Love Poem

On March 8, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing10 Comments

A Sunny Sunday morning greeting to you all.

I told you before that I have been writing since I was a girl and as a present to my patient mother I made a big collection, had it bound and gave it as a Christmas present.

I called the book ‘The Peripheral’, which was the name of a magazine I used to produce when young for my friends and family.

Whilst visiting my mother yesterday we skimmed through the book and I saw this poem. I wrote this when I was 12-years old. Poetry is not my forte and I was surprised to find this but wanted to share it with you as it is equally relevant today.

LOVE

Love

A thing to be cherished

Treasured forever

Love

A thing between all

From the ‘superior’ humans

To the ‘humble’ hedgehogs.

Love

A thing needy to all

Always there, ready to delight

The eager youngsters

The ageing parents.

Love

Never ask for its presence

Love, real love

Unquestioningly comes

It never falters

Or flickers away.

Love

Its strong pulse is ever near

Never closing its doors

Where happiness flows in.

Love.

“Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls.”

Mother Theresa

Update: Current word count on first draft of novel: 40,531 words

Netflix for Books

On March 5, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Writing6 Comments

You’ve heard of subscription television; now prepare yourselves for subscription books – the ‘netflix for books’ is here to stay.

What does this really mean though?

How much brighter does this make the world for the reader and the writer ?

Is it effectively a modern day virtual library? Hardly.

Although Amazon were not the first to introduce subscription books, their release of Kindle Unlimited (KU) five months ago brought subscription books to a world wide market. At first glance the deal is enticing for readers. To be able to borrow ten books per month for £ 7.99/month sounds tempting.

However unless you are a exuberant bibliophile you will never read the ten books allowed and if one or two books per month is the norm, then you could find yourself paying more than you would if buying books themselves. With so many books available for exceptionally low prices the monthly direct debit could easily become more expensive.

It is not only readers who should beware and approach with caution; writers too are beginning to struggle under the Kindle Unlimited contract.

Writers are paid a percentage amount according to the number of reads of their book. This comes from a monthly pool of money set aside by Amazon. Already some writers have noticed a 40%-75% drop in their revenue.

Income has fallen further for writers as customers have started reading KU books instead of buying new ones. There is a real risk that buyers will read the more established authors, which might have cost more previously, instead of taking the chance on an unknown new author whose books were previously much cheaper but still cost on normal kindle or paperback.

This catastrophic decline in income has resulted in some writers withdrawing from the Kindle Unlimited programme and instead selling their books under the much more generous ebook terms.

The extremely restrictive demand by Amazon for exclusivity on books on KU has further cut sales for authors as they have been unable to release their books on other platforms.

The top five big publishers are so far withholding most of their titles from Kindle Unlimited and therefore the choice on KU is rather limited for the reader as the top selling authors (which many people want to read) are not represented.

Subscription books are still a force to be reckoned with as other platforms, such as scribd* or oyster, do exist and their terms are far more generous towards the writer and do not demand exclusivity.

Finally let us not forget that faithful ‘old’ paperback and hardback books. Will their new found stability following the introduction of ebooks flounder under the onslaught of subscription ebooks? Will this become the next substantial obstacle for the publishers of hardcopy books?

Will KU see a fall in their subscription as writers flee from their terms and conditions?

Will readers demand a better and bigger selection of books for their monthly fee?

Will Amazon cave in to writers’ demands for similar contract terms as other subscription services and thereby tempt in the bigger-hitting authors to join them?

Do you have any experience of Kindle Unlimited? Either as a writer or as a reader? I would love to hear your comments and share your experiences. Only by doing so can we empower ourselves to make the best decisions as writers and readers.

“I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.”

Groucho Marx

THE POWER OF THE CREATIVE SPIRIT

On March 1, 2015March 1, 2015 By Annika PerryIn Uncategorized15 Comments

Welcome to you all and to the first of a new month. Spring floats on the breeze and sitting out on a weather-worn bench in the garden I rise my face to the dazzling sunlight. As the daffodils tilt and twist to capture its warmth, so do I.

On such a morning I find myself pondering the nature of the creative spirit and at times its unimaginable strength in the face of insurmountable agonies.

These musings follow in the wake of reading about Frida Kahlo. She was not an artist for which I hold any particular affection although I know of her work. What I did not know was of the life of pain she endured until her untimely passing aged only 47.

Firstly as a child she suffered from polio but made a recovery to normal life. Then aged 18 she was severely injured when the bus she was travelling on collided with a trolley car.

As a result of these injuries she was never free from pain again. In the following years she had over 35 operations and many episodes of agonising pain that resulted in her being bed-ridden for many months at a time. Among other sorrows the physical damages rendered her unable to have children.

Where this life would fell many, Frida instead discovered, with her parents help, her love of painting and throughout her life she painted over 150 paintings. Furthermore she travelled in Central America, the USA and Europe. On a personal level she married the famous painter Diego Rivera – twice! Throughout their tempestuous mutually adulterous relationship she never stopped painting.

The indomitable spirit of the creative being within us is alive and waiting to be tapped. It takes courage, persistence and passion to continue to work through pain and illness of any sorts. Its rewards are unquantifiable.

Reading about Frida’s life and knowing so many who continue their creative work in spite of (or perhaps as a result of) their hardships is a true inspiration – to myself and hopefully to you all.

‘Our existence is not an accident but a mystery…We can entrust ourselves to this mystery, for we are part of it. Indeed we are it.’

By Jean-Pierre Weil, ‘The Well of Being’

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The Midwife’s Revolt by Jodi Daynard

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