My open blog for people who want to read my books,articles, and any other things that I might produce, keep track of storytelling engagements, listen to my less demented rantings, and generally play nice (or naughty, I'm easy... as is widely known).
It's the Leaping Hare convention in Colchester tomorrow, with a full panel of interesting speakers and workshops. I shall be there telling stories along with the rest of Clan (the druid group of which I am a member). The tale is one based on a Glastonbury legend, but told from a very different angle to the sort of stories that we have told at this venue over the past dozen or more years. I shall post more details of the tale after the event.
Moon Books (my publisher) have booked a stall there and I shall be selling my own books if anyone fancies picking up a copy.
Anyone thinking of attending can find the details of the day here - www.leapinghare.webs.com
I was recently party to a conversation between several people, one of whom has a serious illness and was given some advice by another person. It was the sort of advice I've seen endlessly floated around Facebook as a twee meme, and been on the receiving end of myself from a number of sources. The advice in question was that the person would receive healing "when the time was right", and was accompanied by the general sentiment that all things would come to people when the time was right (delivered with that saccharine look of cod-wisdom that makes me want to retch).
According to the World Hunger website it is estimated that 870 000 000 people are living with daily malnourishment, most of them in that state because of chronic poverty. The same website estimates that over 7 500 000 people die of starvation each year ~ I'm not sure how they reached this number, but let's assume it's roughly correct. These are people who have lived through horrendous circumstance…
Not particularly content with this one, I needed to keep it short (well shortish) for the purposes of publishing. It feels as if the narrative is a bit too rushed to me, so I may well revise it later when I've remember where I left me brain (or someone hands it in to the Lost & Found). The metre is ae freislighe and, for those uncertain, a ghillie dhu (dark servant) is a Scottish entity from folklore, pretty much identical to a Russian leshii or Tolkien's concept of an Ent. They are tree-like creatures that guard forests and are known to help lost travellers, especially children.
Ghillie-Dhu Pale moon-skinned, hair pendulous, Still stands the tree-sire,
dreaming Of the wildwood tenebrous That echoes through the gleaming. Fierce runs the boy, hell-hounded Solace sought from grim kinfolk Future bleak, grief compounded Gnarled tree faces fears evoke. To the forest hideaway He came, a silvered haven, Thoughts like toys in disarray Midst the perch of the raven. Distant bellows terroris…