With the usual summer debauchery being either too difficult or too scary this year, I wonder how many of us have turned to more solitary pursuits to pass the time. Specifically, I wonder how many of us have read more than we usually do. 

I know people who have turned to books, for the first time in a good while, to find brief escapes from reality. Conversely, I know people who have always read but have found it particularly hard this year to settle their minds sufficiently to commit to a whole book. I can understand that feeling. Sometimes, the instant gratification of the telly or a magazine is a quicker and easier way to lose yourself.

I’ve watched a few of those programmes myself. The sort you wouldn’t normally be bothered with. But I have carried on reading. Probably not as much as I normally do, but what I have read has been engrossing. Over the next few posts, I’ll tell you about some of them. Here’s the first:

Circe by Madelaine Miller

A retelling of the story of Circe the Witch, a fairly minor Greek God. This book was passed on to me by my daughter. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy it but I as wrong. The more I read the more it captivated me and, although it was based on a myth – a fairy tale, if you like – the story felt incredibly contemporary.

Friendless and despised by her family Circe leads a lonely existence because she doesn’t fit the usual mould. When she falls in love with a mortal, she makes a mistake that changes her life forever. As a consequence of her actions she is exiled to the island of Aiaia. However, far from it being the end of her, Circe finds that, away from the tyranny of her family, she flourishes.  

One of the interesting themes in Circe’s story is the difference between the Gods and mortals. Contrary to normal teachings, it’s the Gods who are spoilt, selfish and feckless whereas the mortals are mainly honest and hardworking. Circe character’s is a complicated one that seems to straddle both camps. Often, she’s naïve and far too trusting and yet she is as capable of cruelty as the rest of her kin. Her need for affection is all too human. Desperate for it and with only the worst possible role models to draw on, Circe falls for the wrong kind of men.

Another interesting theme is the balance of power. A gradual awakening in Circe brings a realisation of where the real power lies. Although the pointers are there throughout her life, it takes a couple of thousand years for her to understand that women are constantly controlled, used and abused by men. Some of them Gods, some of them mortals.  

As she ages, Circe grows in wisdom and bravery. When she becomes a mother, all of her strength and skill is needed to singlehandedly protect her son. After finally meeting her soul mate, she summons up the courage to confront her brutal father and literally, blow her demons out of the water. As the book closes, we see her summoning all of her spirit and determination to take one last step into the unknown – her true self.

The story of Circe is an epic one. Its beating heart is a woman. A God who is as human as any of us.

At long last my partner and I managed to get away for a couple of weeks in our motorhome.  We bought it last February, although it’s far from new. Last year, we really made the most of it with three different holidays around the UK.

By far the most special was a five-week tour of the Scottish Highlands and islands. Of course, five weeks isn’t really enough to cover the whole of the north of Scotland, let alone its many islands. So, we stuck to the west. Our plan was to do another long trip this year along the east coast, taking in the Shetland Isles. I’m a fan of Ann Cleeves and her Jimmy Perez books, and the TV series has made a trip there all the more enticing.

Anyway, that was the plan. Sadly, the plan got changed. Frustrating but, given the current circumstances, we just counted ourselves lucky to remain healthy.   

Instead we were able to find availability in the north of England, starting at the very top, in Berwick – Upon – Tweed. Actually, we did stay over the border in Scotland for that one, in the grounds of the very lovely Paxton House in Berwickshire.

As we journeyed southwards along the north-east coast, we came across some stunning places that we never knew existed. We were also treated to some wonderful glimpses of the natural world including basking seals, leaping dolphins and plunging gannets. My favourite had to be two squabbling weasels on a quiet country road in North Yorkshire. One was chased off by the other. As he ran to the safety of the other side of the road, the defeated weasel spotted us, stopped and stared us out for a few minutes, then scurried under a hedge. A magical moment.

Here are a few snaps of the places we visited. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them.

I don’t know about you but I’m finding the number of bad things going on in the world at the moment pretty hard to swallow. Just when I think it can’t get any worse, something else crawls out from under a stone.

Here in the UK, there are things going on in the political arena that have me regularly thinking, surely my jaw couldn’t drop any lower? And then something new comes out, and down it goes again.

There are some good things to come out of the awfulness, of course. Today, I read about the Wall of Moms, the mothers who are coming together to form protective human shields for BLM protesters against heavy handed US federal agents. That’s pretty good, in my book. Go moms, as they say across the pond.

I’m finding the best way to get through all this turmoil is to keep busy. And making lists. Lists help a lot. I am a list person. I even wrote a poem about why I need lists. I may share it with you one day.

In the meantime here’s what I’ve been up to lately, beside the lists:

As I mentioned in my last post, in June, I started my YouTube channel with my first online poetry reading. I’m please to say it’s gone down quite well. I’ll be adding to it with another reading or two soon and hope to improve with each video. This channel is another of those good things to come out of the bad. Way back in January, I made a resolution to get comfortable with performing my poetry to a live audience. My first performance, to a small and welcoming crowd was at the beginning of March. I came away from that night, buzzing and really looking forward to the next one. Then lockdown happened. My performance career was put on hold. Luckily though, the poets that run the same poetry night that I’d performed at, took the event online, with videos instead of face to face. So, I am now a YouTube performance poet. To say I’ve surprised myself is something of an understatement.

I’m still working on my first novel. I want to get it as good as I can before publication, so I recently sent it off for a professional beta read assessment. Having spent a few weeks working through the suggested edits, I believe the result is a much stronger novel. I’m getting ever closer to the finished product.

When I first started writing this book, I had little knowledge of how the whole process worked. I naively thought it would take six months at the most to get it ready for publication. It’s actually taken a couple of years, and is still not quite ready. I’m told by many, more established, authors that this is quite normal for a first novel. They assure me that subsequent books are quicker and easier. I’m sure that’s probably so. I’m still learning as I go along and I’ve learnt enough so far to realise that I’ve taken a really circuitous route. There’s a bus in my home town called the number 11. It runs around the outer circle of Birmingham – 27 miles in all. I feel as if I’ve taken my book for a ride on the number 11 instead of taking one of the buses that cut straight through the city centre, getting me to my destination in half the time. It’s a shame, but learning from your mistakes is what life’s all about, isn’t it? I’ll be sure to use my new-found knowledge for future books.

Aside from the novel, I’ve been going through a bit of a creative streak lately, partly spurred on by being a runner up in Friday Flash Fiction Summer competition. Result? A 500 word historical(ish) flash fiction story; a longer short story that may well end up as a novella, and two more potential shorts mulling over in my head. My problem now, is time. Much as I’d like to spend all day and every day bashing out words, I have a life outside of writing that tempts me away.

One of the fun things about my other life is the caravan my partner and I have in the Shropshire countryside. We weren’t allowed to use it during lockdown but I’m happy to say that’s no longer the case. Needless to say, we’ve been making the most of it and getting outdoors as often as the weather allows. In fact, I’m writing this post sitting outside the caravan now, after a 5 mile walk in the gorgeous Wyre Forest.

I love getting out in the country but I love the city too. With lockdown easing, Mr W and I are taking tentative steps to normality. For us, that doesn’t yet mean going to pubs and restaurants. I look forward to the time when we can get back to actually sitting down and eating in one of Birmingham’s many excellent restaurants and cafes but, at the moment, it feels too early for us. Although we are trying to support our local businesses by doing essential shopping locally and ordering takeaway food from our favourite independents.

Occasionally we’ve been cycling into the centre of Birmingham, just to experience it on two wheels. Here I am having a mid-trip stop outside the fab Birmingham library. Mine’s the cheater weeter’s electric bike in orange. Great if you have dodgy knees and a problem with hills.

This morning, the weather was lovely and my partner and I went for a bike ride. By the time we got home, I felt pretty good. In fact, I’ve been feeling okay for a while now. Which brings me to ask – how has lockdown been for you?   

I’ve been thinking about this since we bumped into a friend a few days ago on our daily walk – not literally, obviously, we kept our distance. She asked what we’d been doing with ourselves in lockdown. At the time we just shrugged and said something like ‘This and that. Not much,’ but the question stayed with me. When I thought about it properly I realised that I’ve actually done quite a lot.

If a lockdown experience can be described as good or bad, without being crass, then I’d say mine has been quite a good one. Don’t get me wrong, this situation is awful and horrifying. There are days when the sheer numbers of people dying, mostly alone and frightened, overwhelms me with sadness and anger. I miss my family and friends and I miss going out. So many things have been cancelled this year that mean a lot and that’s sad but not the end of the world. At least I, and the people I care about, have stayed healthy and safe.

But amongst the horror, some good things are happening. I know that I’m one of the lucky ones. I have a house, a garden and some great places nearby to go to. I live close to some wonderful parks and canals and all of them fill me with joy and calm. So, in respect of outdoor spaces, I want for nothing and while I can’t do everything I want to, I find myself busier than I’ve ever been. I’m talking and sharing much more than I did pre-lockdown on all of the WhatsApp and Facebook groups that seem to have sprung up in lieu of physical contact.

My local spaces: sights that fill me with joy and calm.

My writer’s group normally meets twice a month with an occasional extra social but now that we’ve gone online, there seems to be a reason to meet up every week – workshops; writing prompts; beta read feedback sessions. It’s a great way of keeping ourselves connected and in touch with writing.

In fact, the wider writing community has been phenomenal in providing support for writers at all levels. There have been a staggering number of giveaways from those that normally make at least part of their living by providing a support service. To name a few – Jericho Writers gave away a free 14-day membership in April with access to a plethora of helpful masterclasses and webinars. Writers HQ continue to provide free masterclasses and writing retreats throughout lockdown. And my latest find, courtesy of indie author Rachel Mclean, is Mark Dawson, top selling author and self-publishing guru. Mark usually gives away a wide range of books to help other writers get on in their careers and an occasional course (I have just finished one on list building and Facebook ads which was eye-opening). Currently, he’s also giving free access to his Self-Publishing Formula University and it’s packed with all sorts of useful advice for those authors considering going indie. I, for one, will be making full use of it.

With the usual distractions unavailable to me, I’ve spent more time focussing on my writing. The first thing I did was take a good look at my draft novel. As a result, the book I thought I’d finished ended up with another, quite ruthless, edit. I changed the title, moved some of the chapters around and rewrote the ending, but I’m convinced I’ve ended up with a stronger story as a result.

In April, it was NaPoWriMo and I managed to draft thirty poems without too much difficulty. Although, it has to be said, some of them will need a lot of rework before they see the light of day. With the benefit of reflection, a few of them felt more like flash fiction than poems but that’s okay. Whatever works. Here’s one that was published on Friday Flash Fiction that I’m particularly pleased with.

That’s the other thing I’ve been doing – submitting my work. A fellow writing group member has challenged herself to send off a hundred submissions this year in order to rid herself of the fear of rejection. Inspired by this I’ve set myself a target of fifty. So, I’ve been submitting my novel to agents and my poem and short stories to other outlets. As I’m quite impatient and can only wait so long for agents to find my book irresistible, next on the list will be publishers. And I’m not ruling out self-publishing at this stage. I like to keep my options open.

All in all, it’s been a productive lockdown for me. Surprisingly though, I haven’t read as much as I normally do. Maybe I’ve been too productive. Or maybe, I’ve found other things to occupy my evenings and weekends. Here are a few that might interest you too:

The Hay Festival Online

My Virtual Literary Festival

National Theatre at Home

Folk On Foot Front Room Festival

Jay’s Virtual Pub Quiz

So, that’s my lockdown to date. I’m just about keeping my head up and making the most of it. I guess I’m just happy to be here.

What about you? How are you doing?  Post a comment at the top of this post and share your thoughts. I’d love to know.

… from words for a couple of days. Did a bit of painting instead. Nothing like a cute kitten to lift the spirits.

It would have been churlish of me not to mention poetry in this seven-day book challenge. So, on this my last day, my book of choice is my current squeeze, Fishing in the Aftermath by Salena Godden …

… one of the most creative, arresting and inspiring poets I’ve come across.

I bought this book in February after seeing Salena perform an astounding set at the Verve Poetry festival in Birmingham.  I love spoken word and when it also comes together in print, as this does; when it flies off the page at you, it’s a truly wonderful thing.

Fishing in the Aftermath is a collection of Godden’s poems that spans twenty years, 1994 – 2014. Some of them are more like short, quite often disturbing, stories. Some of them are funny; some are angry; some tender; some sad and some are all of those things and more. All of them are remarkable. Her accounts of being stranded in New York when 9/11 happened, document so vividly the human reaction to something so unspeakable in a way that makes you stop and think – how would I have behaved?

Another favourite is When I Heard the Man, dedicated to Gil Scott-Heron and Martin Luther King. Of course, I know about Martin Luther King. I was nine when he was murdered but, if I’m honest, the death of an American preacher didn’t really get a mention in my white, working-class English family. To be fair, I doubt JFK’s assassination would have either. But as I grew up and became more aware, I began to see more clearly the importance of this man. I came even later to Gil Scott-Heron – getting to know the works of the older Gil first of all – but I like to think my maturity made them resonate with me all the more. I couldn’t get enough of them. So, reading this brought it all back to me and I was there with Salena, falling ‘into sky blue’ too.

If you think poetry’s not your thing, try this. It’s wild and anarchic. Punk poetry at its best.   

Day six and in the home straight. Today’s book is The Yiddish Policemen’s Union by Michael Chabon …

… an old fashioned whodunnit in an alternative reality – the alternative reality being Sitka, a Jewish homeland in Alaska with a lease that’s about to expire.

The protagonist, Meyer Lansdman, is a down-on-his-luck homicide detective with all the usual characteristics of his ilk who lives in a seedy hotel following his divorce. When one of the hotel’s occupants is murdered, Landsman determines to track down the killer and finds himself caught up in an increasingly tangled web

At first glance this might seem like classic American detective fiction and, to be fair, there are elements of it that remind me of Chandler or Hammett. What sets it apart is the overlay of this Yiddish world that makes it feel like a scene from film noir gone slightly off kilter. Like Murakami’s Dolphin Hotel, Sitka is a strange old world within a modern world. It’s familiar and yet foreign, real and yet surreal.

As I write this, I realise I have chosen two books in a row that feature seedy hotels and abstract settings – as well as murders, of course – a literary taste I wasn’t aware I had, before now.  

Is it day five already? My book of choice today is Dance Dance Dance by Haruki Murakami …

… the sublimely surreal story of a writer, whose name we never know, who is broken and just about operating on a basic daily level.

The writer is haunted by a woman he once had a relationship with who has since mysteriously disappeared. He has vivid dreams about the time he spent with her in the seedy, Dolphin Hotel.

Driven to find out what happened to her, he returns to the hotel only to find it considerably changed. While there he has visions that could be dream, could be an alternate reality. Whichever they are, they give him access to the old hotel within the new hotel where he meets the bizarre Sheep Man. He begins a relationship with the hotel receptionist who is also able to experience this phenomenon. He meets a teenage psychic and ends up babysitting her; reconnects with an old school friend who is now a famous actor and gets involved in a murder mystery.

It’s a captivating book, the only one of Murakami’s I’ve read so far although I have another on my reading pile. Like so many of my favourite reads, it’s a book about personal journeys and healing.

I really like Murakami’s writing voice – kind of Japanese American, I’m not sure how else to describe it. I love the way he plays with the imaginary and the reality so that you’re not quite sure which is which. I like too, the way his characters are all a bit odd – even the one’s you’d expect to be quite normal. Nothing is as it seems in this novel.