Almost writing again…book cover queries… new arrival.

I have been utterly committed to the garden (and, of course, to our visitors) for the last two months and writing has been low on the agenda – but not forgotten. Just over a week ago I finally bought InDesign (publishing software) and my extraordinarily patient cousin has come all the way from Sweden and is walking me through the basics of setting the text of my novel into a printable format, and creating a cover.

He created the cover of my previous novel.
Unseen coverpic

We have also discussed (argued about) the desirable qualities of a cover illustration. How much should it indicate either genre or content? Do people really pick up a book (or reject it) because of it’s cover. All opinions welcomed!

The novel will be titled Border Line. I shall be glad to know if this suggests a genre to people… and if so, which?

As I will need to create an ebook too, I have finally justified the purchase of an iPad mini. DSCN5735

And it’s past midnight and my husband and cousin are asleep… oh for a few more hours in the day.

Familiar Faust, unknown Mozart and Rolando Villazon

Faust sells his soul to the devil in return for youth and the chance to seduce a young girl. Not a story I have ever had much time for, but Gounod’s operatic version is stashed full of wonderful tunes and the Royal Opera house performance that we heard a couple of weeks ago was full of fizz and beautifully sung with a really well-balanced cast (Joseph Calleja, Bryn Terfel, Simon Keenlyside and Sonya Yoncheva). Sonya was new to us and had a charm and her voice was rich and with an ease over the whole range. I could have enjoyed this opera with my eyes shut as the orchestra, under conductor Maurizio Bernini, was in terrific form.

The evening even had its comic moments. The woman behind us, a newcomer to opera, after watching the alluring male ballet dancer behaving badly with a posse of half-dressed nymphs, and then being symbolically shot, uttered a heartfelt “ni…ice”.

A couple of days ago we attend a contrasting evening in the beautiful and more intimate Cadogan Hall in London. This was a Mozart evening featuring the small Kammerorchester of Basel and Rolando Villazon. The orchestra played on early instruments with a leader but no conductor and they stood (except for cellos and a double bass) throughout the evening. Their verve, accuracy and plain enjoyment were a delight. Beyond all this Rolando sang a series of obscure Mozart concert arias giving everyone, musicians and audience, great pleasure. For a taster visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Shi8n1GFj9E . His voice has deepened and darkened over the years. It remains very warm with plenty of ping in the high notes and conveys tenderness, fury and comic bafflement equally well. Above all his total physical and mental engagement with the music and the audience are, as always, utterly engaging.

No photos? A maple in fresh spring growth.

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Shrikes!

Thank you, Andrew, for photos of the real bird. Here is another Lanius cristatus. Identified by Anthony Furness http://anthonyfurnessphoto.se from our painting.

Lanius cristatus

Lanius cristatus

He/she is from this beautiful Japanese watercolour that I have known all my life and now have the good fortune to own.Jap paint2

Andrew's avatarAll downhill from here

Yes, 2 of them in our garden today. Brown Shrikes both, Lanius cristatus. They speak for themselves. Enjoy.Preening Brown ShrikeBrown ShrikeBrown Shrike2Shrike SwallowShrike close

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A peony or two

My delight in the last week or so (among many in the garden) has been the tree peony show.

The big white one,DSCN5636the modest yellow one,

paeonia lutea

paeonia lutea

and the stunning lilac one half open after rain,DSCN5638

 

and fully open in the late sunlight.

DSCN5653As a water butt postscript, the not entirely successful plumbing arrangements for the greenhouse. As you can see there is no run-off. And yes, I know, there are still no plants to speak of. I have been fully occupied elsewhere, but I spent two hours in there yesterday, playing with seed trays, so hopefully something will emerge in due course. DSCN5625

Water butts and water buts – or garden plumbing

I had a very, very wet two hours the other day trying to sort out the rain maintenance in our garden. This area of the UK is very dry (really). It is as unpredictable as any other part, but average rainfall is low, the soil is sand on chalk and the garden is always thirsty. Add to this the fact that we are foolish enough to grow rhododendrons and similar plants that prefer rich acid soil and consequently have to live in ever larger tubs as the years pass.

Rhododendron Yakushimanum Cupcake

Rhododendron Yakushimanum Cupcake

So, over these years, we have acquired many water butts and with the building of the greenhouse we had to start playing musical chairs with these. The big old pale green one behind the new greenhouse had to be swapped for one of the small ones from the back of the garden. But as the rain fell I discovered that this was now too high, so I removed the stand, dug up and added another concrete slab, an old tile and (temporarily) a blue enamel bowl.

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This butt fills another bigger butt round the corner, that has a run off into the gravel.DSCN5621

The original pale green butt has gone to join several other behind our shed. As the rain poured down I discovered that the my linking arrangements hadn’t worked. So I had a merry twenty minutes up to my elbows in water ‘re-wiring’ the whole system to ensure a safe run-off into the garden. I think we now qualify for the Heath-Robinson prize.DSCN5618You’d think that would be enough water for us, but this is all in addition to the underground water harvester that we put in five years ago.DSCN1385

In the middle of winter.DSCN1401

As I stripped off all my soaking and muddy clothes, it was difficult to believe that we still sometimes run out of rainwater. (And there are a couple more small water butts at the end of the garden).

Writing women and peonies

I recently finished Elaine Showalter’s A Literature of Their Own: British Women Writers from Charlotte Brontë to Doris Lessing.

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Researched and written in the 1960s and 70s, first published in 1977 and revised and expanded in the 1990s with a new edition 2009 much reprinted since, this study of British women writers has stood the test of time very well. There is much to fascinate a writer today. Perhaps most astonishing is that this study, by an American, was so ground-breaking. As Elaine travelled “…around chilly municipal libraries in England in quest of women writers’ archives, I was often rewarded by becoming the first scholar to read a harrowing journal or open a box of letters.” Studies of women’s writing have abounded since those early days and much of the introduction (written twenty years later) is taken up with the (often negative) reactions by later scholars, pundits and activists to her analysis of this subject.

The book itself is a treasure trove of discoveries, of women who wrote the best-sellers of their day, but have been wiped out of history, of changes of taste, of changes in the roles of women, of transformations (or the lack of them) in the reactions of men. It back-fills the story that seems so often to consist only of Austen, the Brontës, Eliot and Woolf and gives a structure to the history of two centuries of writing.

Elaine’s original title had been The Female Literary Tradition in the English Novel, but Princeton University Press changed this to the current one – not, as so many have assumed, in reference to Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own, but a quote from John Stuart Mill  in 1869 in The Subjection of Women. He wrote: “If women lived in a different country from men, and had never read any of their writings, they would have a literature of their own.”

Although this book started life as an academic treatise it is highly readable and full of insight. It has changed my understanding of the journey so many British women writers have taken. There are also some quotes to make your blood boil and your mouth drop open.

On a completely different subject. It is tree peony time here. Finally the long-watched buds are opening.

White tree peony

White tree peony

Over Easter I saw this Molly-the-Witch in the local Botanical Gardens. Molly is usually a clear yellow, but this is a very delicate cream with peachy markings. Definitely on my want list.

Paeonia mlokosewitschii

Paeonia mlokosewitschii

There will be more in a later post.

Just a bee (I think)

I wanted to review this great book (which has a purple cover and is not out of focus),

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and I hoped to write about POWs, and I even planned to write about writing (which is a thing I should have been doing, but spring and greenhouses have intervened). Now Easter has caught up with me and my guests are here, so I shall be off for a few days. Here is a picture of what I think is a bee of sorts, but it may be one of those clever flies masquerading as a bee. DSCN5517

Finally a greenhouse – in (many) pictures

This January we decided that we would – at last – invest in a greenhouse to replace the plastic plant storage affair we had used for many years. [Short of time? Smart suggestion – jump to the end.]

DSCN4610Especially after the wind did this.

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We thought we’d finally use the old marble (see post  https://greenwritingroom.com/2013/04/19/happy-ending/)

DSCN3575However there were one or two things to clear first.DSCN4622

Then the fence blew down.
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We started clearing the site and preparing the ground.

DSCN5258 DSCN5265 DSCN5273Then there was the archaeology.DSCN5278 DSCN5287 DSCN5296 DSCN5306The re-siting of the big slabs that had supported an old oil tank.

DSCN5302 A heck of a lot of digging.DSCN5303 And levelling.DSCN5406 Laying of porous, breathable membrane.DSCN5428 And the shovelling of vast quantities of sand.DSCN5434 At last some of the marble can go down – using an intricate plan.

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DSCN5452 DSCN5455 DSCN5460 DSCN5463The greenhouse arrives.

DSCN5480 DSCN5481We exchange the big water butt for a smaller one and the base makes an appearance.DSCN5474 More brickwork required.DSCN5477
DSCN5498 The day dawns and help (daughter Amy) has arrived.DSCN5502 DSCN5507On Day One we get this far.DSCN5509 DSCN5512 DSCN5520DSCN5522 DSCN5523And on Day Two we finish the task.DSCN5524 DSCN5526 DSCN5535 DSCN5539

On Day Three I planned to sleep, but found myself starting on the excavation of the narrow passageway linking the greenhouse to the back of the house. I must be mad.

 

 

Tulip parade with mavericks and butterfly

As a child I thought tulips were boring, but now I can’t resist them. Some have been with me for years.

Purissima, I think.DSCN5326 Very old, I don’t know the name, they come up year after year.DSCN5423

 

Others are new. I think this is called Shirley.DSCN5461

 

Some are a mixture, older Apricot Beauty and newer Angélique?DSCN5421Don’t know, possibly Johann Strauss.
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But in any grand plan there are always mavericks…

These should all be peach-coloured, no reds in this bed.

DSCN5367 And these were a freebie with a weird name, that I cannot  at present remember.DSCN5370

This evening I almost picked this narcissus and then noticed the charmingly camouflaged  resident. I don’t remember seeing one like this before. However a quick search of the Internet suggests that it is an orange tip (the orange is only visible with the wings open).

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The long-awaited greenhouse arrives tomorrow, the base is nearly finished.

An addition – Snakeshead Fritillary – thanks Andrew.

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Far East POWs – reflections

It is some time since I posted about the men I have been writing about who were Far East POWs (and their wives and families). The MS is currently being read by an historian so I planned to take a break. Nevertheless I have been thinking about the men rather a lot. In the past few weeks I have been labouring against the clock to clear the ground for a new fence where mature trees once stood (https://greenwritingroom.com/2014/03/14/). I have also been trying to make a level base for a greenhouse (a task I have never done before).

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In the course of these endeavours I have been very tired, very hungry and slightly injured. Then I contracted a feverish cold, and the weather became strangely hot for April. With each of these sensations I couldn’t help remembering the accounts of the extreme versions the prisoners suffered on the railway. I tried to imagine how it would feel to be sicker or to have no rest, or food. As I stamped down the earth on my greenhouse base-to-be, I found myself repeating the phrase my father had remembered from his days when they were building the embankment on which to lay the tracks on the Thailand-Burma Railroad.

 At the end of each days work we marched up and down on the newly placed earth stamping it down firmly. I remember the Japanese engineers shouting “Orr men stepping very hardly”.

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It sounds perverse to say that I also enjoyed myself, I actually like labour, something I suspect I have learnt from my father. Anyway the fence (done by professionals in contrast to my DIY)) is now up.

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I can now get on with the rest. There is still rather a lot of earth to move, rather a lot of sand to lay as a base and all that lovely marble (purchased for another purpose several years ago) to go on top. In the meantime I have managed a few hours of editing on the POW MS. The men are not forgotten.