Suzanne Bowditch's Blog, page 38
May 9, 2016
Calling Authors – Come and be interviewed
Back in February I put out a plea to authors that might want to be interviewed on my site. A lot has happened since then. One thing is that the number of followers for my blog has grown exponentially. I attribute the popularity of these authors as one of the contributing factors for this growth.
As we wind our way through May, I am coming to the end of my scheduled interviews. Beginning May 16th, I will have openings in my schedule to interview additional authors.
I’ve learned a lot from the interviews conducted thus far and I will be making some changes going forward including adjusting my questions so that we can dig further into your work and your background and really give your readers and potential readers insight into what, how, and why you write.
It’s been a rewarding experience for me and I hope that it has…
View original post 209 more words
May 8, 2016
The Royal Pub
The lunchtime crowd had dispersed by the time that Josh arrived; back to their mundane office jobs, their lives on the fringes of being real as they spend their nights watching reality TV in front of a ready meal.
‘Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.’
One of his favorite poems from school sprang to mind; the only good thing to come out of those mundane classes, but he remembered his English teacher and the passion for literature that she had tried to instill in a classroom of uninterested pupils. At the time, the words seemed vague and unreal, but the reality of life has kicked him down again. The words resonated in his mind as he pushed open the door of the pub, set in a busy intersection off Princes street. Anna trailed behind. He barely gave her a glance as he scoured the room looking for Luke.
‘Over here, you two!’ Luke voice cut through the deep aggressive burr of a smoky Scottish pub. Josh made his way to the far corner and sat down. Luke had a pint in front of him; half full. Just like my life, Josh thought. Half baked and going nowhere…
‘I’ll have an orange juice Lukey.’ Anna spoke up and sat down on the opposite side of the table. She placed her handbag on the table and pulled out a compact, which she gazed at, ignoring him.
‘Righto, Anna my dear, be back in a minute. Pint for you Josh?’
Josh managed a smile. He looked out if the window onto the bustling street outside. From this position he could see the tall grey stone buildings that made up the main thoroughfare of Edinburgh. The gold letters of ‘The Royal’ were painted onto the pub glass; reversed letters that seemed somehow significant. Beads of condensation ran down the window making the shoppers look blurred and unfocused, as if they were aliens.
The tension inside was palpable.
Anna continued looking at her compact, completely engrossed in the task of putting on lipstick. Was she trying to wear him down? Knowing that she had the upper hand in this scenario, was she milking the situation for all its worth?
‘Well Joshie, I have news.This involves Anna as well, listen up you two.’ Luke placed a tray on the table, which held a pint and a small bottle of juice and a glass. A couple of packets of crisps were thrown down beside the drinks for good measure.
‘I’ve spoken to Jazz this morning. He wants the band to continue on its tour whatever has come up.’ He looked awkwardly at Anna, who stared back at him wide eyed.
‘Jazz has a mate down South who owns a cracking little flat. Its not that far from your mum’s Josh.’ Luke looked at his mate encouragingly.
‘He says that he can get the flat no probs, so that you and Anna can be near family, so to speak, but you can continue in the band. Anna can do what she wants there and we can carry on touring. Jazz has already booked gigs for a European tour after this one. What say you Anna?’
Anna spilled her drink.
*
Suzanne Bowditch, 2016
Poem extract from The Love Story of Alfred J Prufrock by TS Eliot.
http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/love_song_of_j_alfred_prufrock.html#rmyyWtww3uQFCgoA.99
May 6, 2016
Maisie Jessica Ferguson
Google ImagesMaisie Jessica Ferguson, or MJ to her friends, pulled on her hot pink suede boots and stood up excitedly. She gazed at herself in the mirror and giggled in satisfaction. Her hair was a mass of dark curls, which she’d pulled back with a flower hair-clip and her cute turtle earrings dangled from her earlobes. Patting her hair, she bent down to pick up a couple of runaway bobby clips that had fallen onto the fluffy pink rug, and stuck them back into her hair haphazardly.
‘I have no time for messing with you today, hair.’She looked sternly into the mirror.’I have better things to do!’ A cheeky smile grinned back at her, and she pulled her hot pink cardi over her turtle t shirt , then rearranged the belt on her trendy jeans – the ones that her mother had bought her at the mall just last week, after Maisie had insisted that ‘everyone wore them.’ The jeans had candy colored stripes in pale greens and yellows, and tucked into her boots beautifully.
‘Maisie, hurry up, or you’ll be late! You don’t want to miss the show, do you?’
She grabbed her backpack and sunnies, and glanced around the room of her bedroom. There were turtle posters adorning every wall, and more turtle trinkets were displayed on her bookcase, alongside Marine books and picture books of the Deep.Her backpack tinkled and glinted as she pulled it onto her shoulders and tucked the turtle keying into the side pocket for safekeeping.
At the bottom of the stairs, her mother stood impatiently waiting for her. A set of car keys jangled from her hand, and she frowned at her outfit. The frown lasted for all of a second however, as she gazed at her youngest daughter.
‘They’re outside waiting for you. Enjoy your day, honey.’
Maisie kissed her mother on the cheek, and opened the front door excitedly. A line of children stood on the driveway in front of a large white van. The side door of the van was open and two more children peered out at her, large grins on their faces.They scrambled in to the back of the van and she pulled the sliding door closed. On the side of the van was printed the words ‘Sealife, Mooloolaba. The best marine park in the world!’ alongside an image of a turtle.
‘Safe driving honey,’ her mother called after her from the front door. She had on a khaki uniform and walking boots. Embroided on the lapel were the words ‘Sea Life Marine biologist. ‘Enjoy your first day at work!’
Maisie waved and donned her warder’s cap with the words ‘Sea Life’ emblazoned across it. She threw her back pack onto the seat beside her, and jumped into the driver’s seat of the van.
Suzanne Bowditch, 2016
May 3, 2016
Pink Blancmange
Google ImagesI had lunch with a group of friends last week. When we get together, the conversation is always about our children (comparing notes on behavior) or our families. We are a mixed bag; two Aussies, two English ladies and me, the Welshie. This time we did a little reminiscing on our childhoods and growing up in general. We are a mature bunch of ladies, so most of us can go back a fair few years!
I have lived in Australia for the last ten years and have learnt that Aussies like Vegemite (yuck!) sausages (nicer) and seafood on Christmas Day. But when we talked about what things we liked to eat as a child, I made a surprising discovery – one of my Aussie friends did not know what Blancmange is. A little taken aback by this, I tried to tell her that Blancmange is a creamy dessert (mainly pink ) that accompanies jelly (not jam ) It is usually served at birthday parties, and is moulded into the shape of a rabbit (pink) with grass (green) jelly around it.
It would be the highlight of any birthday party that I went to as a child, and would take centre stage on the party table ( whilst the birthday cake would be in the kitchen, under a cloth ready for the candles).
Does anyone have a childhood food that they loved, but no one else has even heard of?
Suzanne Bowditch, 2016
May 1, 2016
Mother’s Day
Whilst visiting my local shopping mall on the weekend, I couldn’t help but notice the fresh lot of advertising posters that are evident in the shops – Mother’s Day is nearly upon us.
That got me thinking about the meaning behind Mother’s day (or Mothering Sunday in some countries).
Wikipedia quotes it as “a modern celebration honoring the mother of the family.”
The history behind the concept of a day to honor mothers across the world is over a hundred years old, when a young American lady named Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother at St Andrew’s Methodist Church, West Virginia (1908 was the date). Anne Reeves Jarvis (Anna’s mother) had been a peace activist during the American Civil War. The church of St Andrews holds the International Mother’s Day Shrine to this day. The then president, Woodrow Wilson, signed a proclamation in 1914 deigning the second Sunday in the month as Mother’s Day.
Ironically, a few years after this (in the 1920’s) Anna Jarvis protested against the commercialism of Mother’s Day as candy companies and card companies (such as Hallmark cards) got on board with selling candy and cards for the day. Anna argued that people should celebrate their own mothers with a simple letter or hand written note. She went so far as to cause a disturbance at a candy bar makers convention in Philadelphia in 1923.
In a world of vast commercialism when everything is now packaged and celebrated (wasn’t Easter just a month ago; I still have chocolate eggs), I have to admire the stoic simplicity of Anna Jarvis.
We all should celebrate Mother’s Day, but rather than just posting a card, handing out chocolates or giving flowers, maybe we could just appreciate mums more; just like Anna Jarvis intended.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother’s_Day
Suzanne Bowditch, 2016
April 28, 2016
Cat Cafe
My son and his friend visited a cat cafe in Brisbane today. The cafe caters to rescue cats of all ages, and is touted as “a wonderful space for cat lovers to enjoy.”
Guests are encouraged to cuddle, play and stroke the felines, with a view to potentially adopting them.
What a fabulous idea. I hope this one catches on.[image error]
April 27, 2016
Stella Windermere
Alice & The Mad Hatter – Lewis Carroll
This quote is from one of my all time favorite books! I do not profess to be as great as Lewis Carroll himself but here’s my story anyway[image error]
Stella Windermere
‘Righto Stella, that’s you done; we don’t want to cook you now do we?’ Jenny lifted the blow-dryer off Stella’s head, and pulled apart the first roller on Stella’s forehead. The roller pulled free from its confines, and the hair sprung back in a delightful curl.
‘It’s taken lovely; I knew it would! That’s a new colour from Tansy’s hair products. ‘Warm Gold’ it said, and it looks like it’s a success. Come on then, we’ll put you in your favourite spot, and then I’ll brush it through. Do you want a cup of tea?’
‘Not just now, or I’ll be on the loo all afternoon. Just pass me that magazine will you? It has a lovely crossword in side; I’m nearly done finishing it.’
The hairdresser laughed and rummaged in the pile, handing Stella Now Weekly.
‘I’ll be there in a tick; just got to look at Mrs Parsons’s perm.’
Jenny moved over to a basin and started the usual hairdresser/client banter. Stella settled back with the magazine, flicking through the pages at random. There was the usual celebrity features; young lithe TV stars on beaches across the world, and an article called ‘How to up your veggie intake.’ Towards the back of the magazine, an article on ‘Dealing with disabilities and depression’ caught her eye. She settled down to read it, as a splattering of rain fell onto the salon window next to her. The awning that covered the salon doorway looked swollen and bowed, and a tear in the corner of the faded plastic had left room for water to drip onto the pavement. She glanced outside and watched the rainfall for a moment, as a figure pushing a wheelchair appeared on the path that led to the salon. The figures were distorted for a moment, weirdly shaped as the rain lashed onto the windowpane, but Stella recognized them straight away. It was Joe and his mum Wendy.
Joe was a cheery boy, some would say ‘slow’, but Stella hated that expression and always had time for the lad. The school had told Wendy that he would ‘never amount to anything,’ but he had managed to find a job for himself, and look after his mum in his spare time. There were many around here that wouldn’t bother; Stella knew that. She watched as Joe pushed Wendy up the small hill that led to the shops. He pushed her to the left, to the newsagents, and then they were out of sight. She knew their routine; it was like clockwork; a packet of Benson & Hedges for Wendy, and a comic for Joe. Wendy didn’t bother buying any women’s magazines, preferring to read them up at the doctor’s. She was a regular there anyway, ever since she’d broken her hip last year.
Stella flicked through the magazine until she found the puzzle page. The pages were used and in some parts torn, but she didn’t mind. It was better than paying for one. Someone had already filled in parts of the crossword that she liked, and she cursed to herself. She had been looking forward to doing that all morning! Just then,the doorbell chimed, and the door to the salon opened. A blast of cold air ruffled the back of Stella’s neck, and she shivered. Someone just walked over my grave! she muttered to herself. The cumbersome wheels of the wheelchair sat heavily on the mat as Joe tried to manoeuvre it inside. His face had became red with the exertion, coupled with the heat inside. The salon was too small really for a wheelchair. It was just the front room of a terraced house, with two sinks and mirrors on one end, and space for just three chairs under the window for waiting customers.Even pushchairs struggled, so the young mums usually went down to the trendy salon in the local mall.
‘Can we bring this old thing inside Jen? It’s only for a few weeks until I get my hip sorted. It’s a nuisance really, but my hair is in a right mess! It badly needs a perm.’
Jenny the hairdresser nodded. ‘Yes, I don’t mind Wendy; you know that. It’s just that I have no space in here. Can Joe just drop you off and come back? You don’t mind, do you Joe?’ She pushed a chair in front of the wheel chair, and Wendy sat down, with Joe’s help.
‘That’s it Joe. We’ll see you later then?’ She closed the door, as he tried to get the wheelchair back through the door. The handles slipped and squashed his hands on the door jamb, and he yelped in pain. Someone in the salon (Mrs Williamson, Stella thought) tutted.
Stella observed all this through the salon mirror. Jenny’s face was a picture; annoyance and politeness morphed into one. You could tell that her routine had been interrupted. Jenny could be a bit abrupt at the best of times.
She stuck her nose back into the magazine, and smiled.
Copyright Suzanne Bowditch, 2016
April 24, 2016
Anzac Day
Recessional
God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle line,
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
– Rudyard Kipling
ANZAC Day – 25th April 2016
(101 years since Gallipoli )
Early this morning my daughter Jessica and I went to the Anzac Day service held in the next suburb of Coomera. We arrived as early as possible, and were glad, as there was hardly anywhere left to park. People of all ages had made the effort to attend and to honour the soldiers who had fought for us in The Great War of 1914-1918.
The service started with a parade. A brass band led the procession down Reserve Road with the aim of finishing at the cenotaph. Behind the brass band, the Anzac soldiers marched, silently and respectfully, in perfect sync with each other. Then, school children from the local schools proudly held up banners. Mums and dads pushing toddlers and babies took up the rear. A smart Jaguar car cruised down the road and seated in the front, proud as punch and waving to the crowds, a war veteran smiled, his medals displayed for all to see.
Then the service. The local councillor for the area held court, respectfully reading out the casualties of 1915, particularly Gallipoli, the campaign on the coastline of Turkey that cost the lives of over 25,00 ANZAC casualties alone. Then, the local clergy said The Lord’s Prayer and we sang hymns of Remembrance for those that were lost. I found the Military Address to be poignant, as the present day soldiers honoured their past comrades, be it a hundred years ago, the memory of those men lives on.
The Last Post was played and we observed a minute’s silence.
To end the service, the representatives from the clergy, dignitaries and soldiers alike laid wreaths under the lone soldier memorial statue, in front of the engravings of the local lads who had perished in the fields of Turkey and France, as well as around the world, then and since.
I am so glad that we went and paid our respects in what for me, was an emotive morning.
Suzanne Bowditch, 2016.
Lest we forget
April 23, 2016
Australia Zoo
We went up to the Sunshine Coast today and visited Australia Zoo. It was hubby’s birthday, so it was a majority decision to go there. The journey up from the Gold Coast takes about 2 hours and is well worth it; it is breathtaking. We have to drive past the Glass Mountains which are to me the most underrated areas of scenic beauty – forget Uluru, we have the Glass House Mountains!
The Zoo itself is a pleasure to visit. They have animals from all parts of the world – from Africa, Asia and Australia. The Komodo Dragon was impressive, so I had to snap him. The otters are one of my favorite animal, and their antics kept us watching them for a good hour. Their trainer (if you can call her that!) told us that they are a very intelligent animal, but even though they look so cute, they would bite if patted…!
A lovely day was had. We cruised back home in the afternoon to a cold beer.[image error]
April 19, 2016
Book Review
Tapestry by Fiona McIntosh
This is a delicious read from one of my favorite authors. As a self published author of historical fiction, this is how I would like to write!
The book is set in the year 1978, and also 1715, during the Jacobite Rebellion.
” – the Jacobite rebellion was a series of risings, rebellions and wars in Great Britain and Ireland occurring between 1688 and 1746.’ – Wikipedia
The book focuses on Jane Maxwell who lives in 1978. She is engaged to her fiance Will, but in her quest to save him after a tragedy leaves him in a coma, she embarks on a quest that catapults her back in time to 1715, and the doomed Jacobite Rebellion.
It is filled with plenty of action (some set in Australia) and manages to combine history, time travel, and romance in its pages. I loved Jane, as all the characters.
. They were well rounded and believable, and the plot flowed quite seamlessly from one era to another.
The book could be compared to Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, but I prefer Ms Mackintosh’s style of writing.
A good 4/5
