Liz Williams's Blog, page 27

Else I thump you!

This requires a certain amount of backstory.

We have an orchard, divided by a thorn hedge. There is a small orchard, directly outside the back door, and a large orchard, which leads onto the fields. The natural tendency of Dog is to head wildly off into the large orchard, and thence into the fields, to be seen some considerable time later after a lot of shouting, running about, and the enlistment of several people in a search party.

This can be obviated by shouting at Dog (collective) in a mantra devised over many years by Trevor, which goes: "WEEWEE ONLY!!! ELSE I THUMP YOU!" (God knows what the neighbours think - probably that he's talking to me). This means that Dog will go into the small orchard, pee, and come back, because the result will be a biscuit.

We have got this to a point with Lily and Cass where it works, but it also works with Sid, who will come and sit at the back door (not go out, mind you), wait until the dogs come back in, and then collect a biscuit. Sid is not stupid, but I'm beginning to think that I am.

Short story subscriptions

Just a heads-up - all the short fiction subs have gone out this morning. I know that a couple of folk haven't received theirs in previous months, so as usual, please feel free to email me if your stories have not appeared in your mailbox!

Reading room

It must be spring, because a young witch's fancy is turning to the necessity of getting a tarot reading room sorted out in this shop. Since the flood, and actually prior to that, we have been using the Botanica, but last night J and J revamped their own reading room, I turned out to have a free Saturday, and thus have tidied up, screened off, and generally draped the upstairs of the main shop. Which I am now sitting in. It's very purple, due mainly to the fact that we seem to have a lot of spare purple drapery. It is also, apparently, the very thing to make a nice dog's boudoir and thus one of my sinister purple chairs now sports a paw-print dog blanket.

Sid-rep

I thought Sid came to us a little later in the month, but looking back through the annals of time, I see that he arrived, via the kind ministrations of fjm , on the 5th February, 2007. That means that he has been with us for 4 years now. I guess he is about 4 and a half, nearly 5. From being the little cat with the bandaged bottom (where his tail was removed), Sid has now grown into a thickset, low-slung cat like a gunslinger. He has been whittled down by degrees (testicles, tail, one fang) since he arrived, but remains an affectionate, laid-back cat who regularly beats up the dogs but otherwise regards himself as one of the pack. Probably its leader. He has a happy outdoor and indoor life, almost certainly at least one other feeding station (living up to his original monicker of Six Dinner Sid after the children's book), and is duly admired by all who meet him.

I can't currently find the camera, otherwise I would post pictures, but when I do find it, I will.

Spring. Sprung?

Spring has visibly begun to move on the Levels: pussy willow is on its way out, the hazel catkins have been out for nearly a couple of weeks, our garden is a mass of snowdrops and the crocus and daffodils are starting to put in an appearance. It feels softer and lighter, although there's still a raw edge to the wind and since Trevor has experienced snow on his birthday before now (which is in June), no one is holding their breath. I have vases full of mimosa, hyacinths, narcissi and iris at home.

We have been on a couple of long walks - one to the bird reserve, which is filling up with wild ducks and swans, and one to Berrow flats and the beach. I thought we were in for a storm last night, but I woke to a very fiery sunrise this morning (not sunset, as I posted on FB - really not a morning person).

We made it to Wells market yesterday - a very busy farmers' market, and I notice that people are branching out into things like cupcakes and macaroons, as well as a couple of stalls selling very good vegetarian and Indian food. J and I were supposed to be going up to Bristol today and the Chinese warehouse, but this has been postponed and I've been spending my unexpectedly free morning dealing with housework, paperwork, and manuscripts. I will be finishing off this quarter's short stories this afternoon - as well as a heavy teaching load in the last week, one of the stories just hasn't gelled....until it suddenly did. That happens.

I have been reading intensively for the Clarke's list over the last few weeks, and am now reading pkmorrison 's novels Love Him Madly and A Hard Slay's Night (available from Lulu, in hard copy and download). These are great fun - the last is in the grand old tradition of English country house murders, as well as featuring swinging London and rock and roll. Really, what's not to like? This is rapidly becoming one of my favourite detective series.

Deuteronomy, verse 5....

Scene: outside the Botanica, this morning (I was not there).

J, steps outside to find elderly woman driver shunting a Jaguar out of a parking space.

J (and several other people) - remonstrates. Eventually woman gets out.

Woman: 'I'm disabled! I can park where I like!'

J: 'So is the owner of the Jag!' [points to sticker on dashboard]

Woman: 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!!!'

J: 'Deuteronomy, chapter 8, verse 6 - Thou Shalt Not Shunt Someone Else's Car Out of the Fucking Way!'

Woman: 'And look at you all, huddled outside doorways! Typical Glastonbury! Why don't you get a job?'

J and several other people: point out that they're outside their own shops.

Woman storms off, ranting, but returns an hour or so later to apologise and opine that 'maybe she shouldn't be driving.' Er, that would be a 'no'.

Writing

I think it is high time that I put in an post about writing.

To recap, in the last couple of months, we've brought out Diary of a Witchcraft Shop. Iron Khan has come out in hard copy as well as the e-edition, and my thanks to all those of you who have bought both books. Meanwhile, I am cracking on with Morningstar, the final Chen novel (although it almost certainly won't be the last, as I have Plans which will be revealed in due course), and also the first book of Worldsoul, the trilogy that Prime will be producing later on this year.

For those of you who have been kind enough to sign up for the short story subscription, the next quarter's short stories are due any day now - I am a little behind, but finishing off some touches on one of them. As soon as that's done, the mailing will go out. Subscribers should have had six stories in total if they signed up for the full deal, or two stories of whichever set they chose. Do feel free to email me (mevennen(at)hotmail.com) if you haven't had them, as I know a couple of people's stories went astray in cyberspace.

I am continuing with the writing tutoring and have places available at present: I am working on a number of people's manuscripts, but have come to the end of the year with several students, so do let me know if you are potentially interested.

Melissa Mia Hall

I was, obviously, extremely saddened to hear of the death of Melissa Hall. I did not know her personally, but she was a friend of many of my friends (and checking out one of those friend's Facebook walls this morning, coincidentally, I came across a series of recent posts from Melissa, which brought this all home).

She died from a heart attack, because she was concerned about seeing a doctor and running up a huge and unaffordable medical bill. A lot of people have been calling for change to the American system, and to support the relevant legislation: I can't do that, or vote, because I am not a US citizen - I'm British and live in Britain.

However, what I can do, from the perspective of someone who lives with a 'socialised' healthcare system, is to appeal to anyone who has listened to the utter misrepresentation of that system on the other side of the Pond, and tell them what it is like:


- if they're concerned about something, I will be fast-tracked into the medical system. This happened several years ago, with a breast lump: I was seen at the local hospital, a few days later, referred from my own doctor, and treated (successfully: it was a cyst). When I fell off our horse and underwent severe internal injuries, I was rushed into hospital and treated immediately.

- if it had been cancer, an oncology team would have seen me and probably my partner as well, drawn up a care plan, and implemented it. This has now happened twice, as those of you who know my history will be aware. My late partner received an incredible level of care at one of the country's top neurological units, who did their utmost to save his life. He died, succumbing to a secondary tumour in the brain which had metastized from unsuspected bowel cancer - one of the silent cancers, for which he had not sought treatment because he had no symptoms until it was too late. The NHS did their best for both of us, and remained committed, sympathetic and responsive to the minutes past his death.
Trevor, my current partner, is approaching his 5 year remission, from throat cancer. Different part of the country, different team, still excellent care from Musgrove Park hospital and Bristol Royal Infirmary. He still has 6 month check-ups, with insistence from the oncology team that he can make an appointment at any time if he is concerned. We have not had to pay a penny for any of these treatments.

- my parents are in their 80s and have had a number of health-related issues. Far from being subject to a 'death panel', my 88 year old father's doctor would like to see him far more than my dad is actually prepared to go, and he gets regular appointments scheduled without his request. He is diabetic, and they want to keep an eye on him. When he was last in hospital, he insisted on discharging himself and the doctor practically had to strap him down so that he wouldn't take the bus home 2 days after a heart-related operation. My dad has prostate cancer, like many elderly men. He will probably die with it, not of it, but he has been offered treatment for it, which he has refused. This does not sound to me like a system which wants the elderly to conveniently die. My parents do not pay for their health care.

- my cousin has private health insurance. Having had cancer, she had excellent care also, and the standard of accommodation in hospital was very good. This is what insurance will buy you here: a private room, your own TV, and - more critically - faster treatment for chronic but not life-threatening conditions such as hip replacements and cataract ops.

You have the choice to take out insurance if you want to, and if you can afford it. This applies to everyone. I have never had health insurance, and I live my life with the knowledge that if I get seriously ill, there is still a safety net of some of the best medical treatment in the world available. No, the NHS is NOT perfect. It's overstretched and overcrowded. There are management and admin issues, some of them serious (the privatisation of hospital cleaning has, I would argue, been a disaster). People slip through the net. Misdiagnoses occur and sometimes patients are badly treated. But show me a medical system in which these things do not occur. Yes, I pay for it through my taxes. So do people in countries where insurance is crucial.

I cannot imagine living under a system where I could not afford to be ill. I cannot imagine seeing my loved ones through two sets of cancer treatments whilst worrying about whether we might also lose the house. To me, this is barbaric.

Those of you who know me well know that my politics tends towards the liberal end, but is more issue based. You will also have heard me say some sharp things about people who abuse the benefits system on my taxes, for example. I am probably a lot less liberal than many of this f-list. But I consider a basic standard of affordable health care to be the hallmark of a civilised country. In the last couple of years, when Palin and her sorry ilk were talking about my country - we did not recognise it. I have right-wing friends who did not recognise Britain from these descriptions. Please, if you have listened to any of this shoddy, shabby rhetoric, please read what I have written above and have the courage to accept that your politicians have been lying to you. And don't let someone like Melissa die because you'd rather put ideology over the lives of your countryfolk.

Save our Libraries

Today is Save Our Libraries Day:

http://www.voicesforthelibrary.org.uk/wordpress/

This has been something that has been very much on our minds here in recent weeks. Glastonbury has mounted a huge campaign to save our town library from closure - a library that is well-used and is host to many different services. It looks as though the campaign has been successful - which is obviously great news. But the campaign was founded on the principle that Glastonbury did not want its library to be saved at the expense of another one, and so the fight goes on.

Libraries have been a big part of my life, both as an academic, and as a student. When I was a teenager, back in the 70s and early 80s, visiting the local library was a treat. I found Andre Norton, Jack Vance, Isaac Asimov, and Ray Bradbury. I found Miss Read and Dorothy Sayers. I found too many authors to mention - authors whom I still read today and who are central to my career as a writer myself. And of course, my own books are in libraries throughout the UK.

So this is an important day.

Just another Sunday afternoon

Scene: the Voodoo Boys' place, which now has a rather lovely shrine at the back (mainly Catholic saints).

All the customers are female.

Customer 1 [striding in, decked with a lot of pentacles and, I fear, a tie-dyed velvet dress]: [dramatic gesture] "YOUR SHRINE MUST COME DOWN! THERE IS A BAD ENERGY TO IT! I.........AM A PAGAN HIGH PRIESTESS!!!"

Customer 2 [before J can respond]: "You're a fucking idiot!"

C1: "Whaaa- but I am a HIGH PRIESTESS!"

C2: "You're an idiot! If you haven't got anything constructive to say, piss off!"

C1: "But -"

C2: "OUT!!!!" [is echoed by Greek chorus of other customers]

J: "thanks very much. Have some incense."