Liz Williams's Blog, page 7
November 19, 2012
Tarot readings - Christmas offer
Someone has asked me if I am intending to run the Tarot reading offer for next year as well - yes, I am, and with this in view I am running a Christmas Tarot package. As with the spring sale, it is £15 for a year (email me at mevennen(at)hotmail.com for paypal details) - for this you get 4 full Celtic Cross readings every quarter. A number of people bought these as gifts for other people in the spring, hence the Christmas offer!
Also, if anyone thinks that they are owed a reading - do let me know. I do them every quarter, but emails occasionally go astray.
Also, if anyone thinks that they are owed a reading - do let me know. I do them every quarter, but emails occasionally go astray.
November 11, 2012
Country living
There's a very typical article by journalist (I am tempted to put this word in apostrophes) Liz Jones in the Fail this morning (for those on the other side of the Pond who don't know this paper, its speciality is dredging up bitter, entitled women and getting them to write about their lives (most notoriously, blogger Samantha Brick's plea to understand the problems of being too beautiful. Brick was commissioned for a few more articles on similar lines until reader comments along the lines of 'Go AWAY, Samantha!' became too loud for even the Mail to ignore).
I started reading Jones because she moved to Somerset from the city shortly after my own move here. Since then, it's been a bit like watching a slow motion train crash: Jones described all the locals as 'toothless,' complained about the cost of everything (this is someone who paid £46K to a celebrity house finder), constantly bitched about the people in her village Post Office etc and eventually decided to move not when her mailbox was shot at, but when the local carnival feautured her as a central display on a float (I don't think they burned her in effigy, but as I recall, she was portrayed by a man with a moustache - Jones way, way overshares about her waxing appointments).
Anyway, she has now departed - either back to London or, according to some reports, Swaledale - leaving Exmoor to breath a huge sigh of relief.
There has been a lot of this sort of thing in the last decade. It basically goes: women (single or with family) moves out of London to the countryside, expecting it to be all Cath Kidston furnishings and buttercups, and is horrified to discover things like mud, isolation, blow fly and hunting. Locals are unfriendly, the weather is foul, much of the place smells and usually the writer either comes to terms with it, or flees back to Hampstead. I think the trend was started by Jilly Cooper, who stuck it out and is now a sort of racing institution.
I have relatives who farm, so I did not expect endless buttercups (although we do have them). Any idea that you'll be able to grow all your own food is just hilarious in this current climate - the summer has been far too wet even to get out there, although we did have a courgette and some jerusalem artichokes. Machinery, like the mower and cars, constantly breaks down, which is frustrating. There is a lot of mud and our old cat got blowfly before he died, which was appalling. However, a lot of the comments made by townee incomers say more about them than about the countryside. Our main stance in this village is that we don't socialise with anyone actually in it (we are deeply antisocial and have little time), although we do use one of the local pubs in an adjacent village. I talk quite a lot to the local farmers and they are, by and large, a pleasant bunch of people. Some of them have wide views on the world (Italian wives, relations in the States), and a couple of them have barely left Somerset. But they've been welcoming and willing to listen to other points of view, when expressed. I don't get to hear much racism or sexism, although it is undoubtedly there (the younger generation don't, as a rule, and will take their elders to task, from what I overhear - " Oh GRAN! You can't say things like that anymore.")
It is not idyllic. You have to plan trips to the shops, work round the weather, and it is frequently hard work, too. There are aspects I like, and others I don't, but in general it is an interesting place to live. But a lot depends on expectations and, I think, on the Platonic view of the countryside which is embedded still in the British psyche. That's another discussion, but a potentially interesting one.
I started reading Jones because she moved to Somerset from the city shortly after my own move here. Since then, it's been a bit like watching a slow motion train crash: Jones described all the locals as 'toothless,' complained about the cost of everything (this is someone who paid £46K to a celebrity house finder), constantly bitched about the people in her village Post Office etc and eventually decided to move not when her mailbox was shot at, but when the local carnival feautured her as a central display on a float (I don't think they burned her in effigy, but as I recall, she was portrayed by a man with a moustache - Jones way, way overshares about her waxing appointments).
Anyway, she has now departed - either back to London or, according to some reports, Swaledale - leaving Exmoor to breath a huge sigh of relief.
There has been a lot of this sort of thing in the last decade. It basically goes: women (single or with family) moves out of London to the countryside, expecting it to be all Cath Kidston furnishings and buttercups, and is horrified to discover things like mud, isolation, blow fly and hunting. Locals are unfriendly, the weather is foul, much of the place smells and usually the writer either comes to terms with it, or flees back to Hampstead. I think the trend was started by Jilly Cooper, who stuck it out and is now a sort of racing institution.
I have relatives who farm, so I did not expect endless buttercups (although we do have them). Any idea that you'll be able to grow all your own food is just hilarious in this current climate - the summer has been far too wet even to get out there, although we did have a courgette and some jerusalem artichokes. Machinery, like the mower and cars, constantly breaks down, which is frustrating. There is a lot of mud and our old cat got blowfly before he died, which was appalling. However, a lot of the comments made by townee incomers say more about them than about the countryside. Our main stance in this village is that we don't socialise with anyone actually in it (we are deeply antisocial and have little time), although we do use one of the local pubs in an adjacent village. I talk quite a lot to the local farmers and they are, by and large, a pleasant bunch of people. Some of them have wide views on the world (Italian wives, relations in the States), and a couple of them have barely left Somerset. But they've been welcoming and willing to listen to other points of view, when expressed. I don't get to hear much racism or sexism, although it is undoubtedly there (the younger generation don't, as a rule, and will take their elders to task, from what I overhear - " Oh GRAN! You can't say things like that anymore.")
It is not idyllic. You have to plan trips to the shops, work round the weather, and it is frequently hard work, too. There are aspects I like, and others I don't, but in general it is an interesting place to live. But a lot depends on expectations and, I think, on the Platonic view of the countryside which is embedded still in the British psyche. That's another discussion, but a potentially interesting one.
November 9, 2012
Election
I hope the Americans on the f-list will forgive me for commenting on their election: I am not, after all, a citizen of the USA. But what happens in the US affects the rest of the world, and I am deeply relieved that the American people seem, in the main, to have rejected a reactionary, extreme and bigoted worldview. I am finding it entertaining, in a bleak way, that there is currently so much incomprehension among far-right Republicans over the electoral outcome. I suppose if you shout loudly enough, and insist on your opinion being the only correct one, it is literally baffling when your desired result fails to manifest.
I said on FB that the Conservative party here in the main supports Obama. He's a lot closer to them than he is to the Tea Party. It is by no means inconceivable here that we might see a swing to the far Right, but it's looking increasingly unlikely. The last election saw the BNP and the EDL pretty much hammered although the former, hilariously, suffered a massive schism in the week before the election and their webmaster, in a fit of pique, took their website down. People have historically tended to look to the far right in times of economic crisis and that doesn't seem to be happening at the moment. I suspect that most Tea Partiers would regard the Tories, with their (in general) pro choice, pro gay rights, nationalised health care agenda as being close to bomb-hurling communists (and the Tories would almost certainly scrap the NHS if they thought they could get away with it, by the way, but that's a rather different matter).
The sole supporter of a change in the abortion laws, our homegrown ghastly Palin-a-like Nadine Dorries, has just slit the throat of her entire political career by bunking off without the Chief Whip's permission to appear on I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here. She's been suspended. Words cannot express how amusing I find this.
On top of the election, we've just got a new church head - the new Archbishop of Canterbury - who supports women being ordained as bishops. He's been rather more circumspect about gay marriage, although those who have had experience of him seem hopeful. The world is changing, and in Britain and the US, at least, its more Medieval elements seem to be being left behind.
I said on FB that the Conservative party here in the main supports Obama. He's a lot closer to them than he is to the Tea Party. It is by no means inconceivable here that we might see a swing to the far Right, but it's looking increasingly unlikely. The last election saw the BNP and the EDL pretty much hammered although the former, hilariously, suffered a massive schism in the week before the election and their webmaster, in a fit of pique, took their website down. People have historically tended to look to the far right in times of economic crisis and that doesn't seem to be happening at the moment. I suspect that most Tea Partiers would regard the Tories, with their (in general) pro choice, pro gay rights, nationalised health care agenda as being close to bomb-hurling communists (and the Tories would almost certainly scrap the NHS if they thought they could get away with it, by the way, but that's a rather different matter).
The sole supporter of a change in the abortion laws, our homegrown ghastly Palin-a-like Nadine Dorries, has just slit the throat of her entire political career by bunking off without the Chief Whip's permission to appear on I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here. She's been suspended. Words cannot express how amusing I find this.
On top of the election, we've just got a new church head - the new Archbishop of Canterbury - who supports women being ordained as bishops. He's been rather more circumspect about gay marriage, although those who have had experience of him seem hopeful. The world is changing, and in Britain and the US, at least, its more Medieval elements seem to be being left behind.
Skyfall
I went to Bath y'day to catch up with John Jarrold and, as it turned out, one of the SFX team in a rather nice pub called the Griffin. Good to see Bath entering its Christmas phase - it's the sort of city that suits coloured lights. Then went back to pick up T and see Skyfall in Wells, which was excellent.
SPOILERS - I think Craig is a very good Bond, in that he's closer to the original Fleming protagonist than the actors before him. This was quite a sombre film, and more about people than action sequences, although it did answer that tricky question as to what precisely would happen if a helicopter gunship ploughed into a decrepit 16th Scottish mansion. Now we know. But it was all about growing old and the world changing, and people letting one another down. I found Judi Dench's M quite realistic in that the British establishment is quite content to dump those who are most loyal to it: it's supposed to be a part of the job. I once had an eyebrow-raisingly frank exchange with someone in the FO about its treatment of one of their ambassadors - they tried to get him sectioned under the mental health act after he criticised a particular government - and some of the FO felt this was going too far. But Dench's M is now no more and it will be interesting to see, if Craig continues, how his Bond interacts with the world weary but capable of being a maverick Mallory. I thought Ralph Fiennes was very good, and I like the new Moneypenny. Good villain, too, although the Bond villains are always parodies.
SPOILERS - I think Craig is a very good Bond, in that he's closer to the original Fleming protagonist than the actors before him. This was quite a sombre film, and more about people than action sequences, although it did answer that tricky question as to what precisely would happen if a helicopter gunship ploughed into a decrepit 16th Scottish mansion. Now we know. But it was all about growing old and the world changing, and people letting one another down. I found Judi Dench's M quite realistic in that the British establishment is quite content to dump those who are most loyal to it: it's supposed to be a part of the job. I once had an eyebrow-raisingly frank exchange with someone in the FO about its treatment of one of their ambassadors - they tried to get him sectioned under the mental health act after he criticised a particular government - and some of the FO felt this was going too far. But Dench's M is now no more and it will be interesting to see, if Craig continues, how his Bond interacts with the world weary but capable of being a maverick Mallory. I thought Ralph Fiennes was very good, and I like the new Moneypenny. Good villain, too, although the Bond villains are always parodies.
October 27, 2012
Samhain kick-off
A very busy day, hosting a book launch by author Kit Berry, which has gone extremely well, and meeting and greeting the various arrivals for the faery ball. Trevor is now on air with a phone-in interview with a station in Canada, and we have lit the first official fire of the autumn (i.e. actual wood, gathered in). It's the Zombie Shuffle tomorrow and then we're into Hallowe'en. The George and Pilgrims has outdone itself with zombie butlers, cobwebs everywhere, and a quite repulsive effort in the corner which is halfway between the Predator and a human headed spider.
NHS
Trevor returned from emergency dental surgery for an abscess y'day having left the tooth behind. He will probably have to have most of his teeth out. As a cancer patient - the radiotherapy pretty much finished off his back teeth - he may be able to get free treatment, so we're going to go back to the oncology dept and ask for advice. However, I'm impressed with the NHS - he was not registered with a dentist, so had to re-register via the helpline at 2 pm. By 2.15 they'd called back with an appointment for 3 in one of the nearby towns and by 3.30 he'd been treated, for £17, which is the NHS flat rate. I'm making this entirely domestic post public, as a minor record of how quickly the health service here can respond - great in crisis, if not so hot on treatment of chronic conditions.
Meanwhile, my 90 yo father, who is in reasonable health for his age, is trying to avoid the doctor, who keeps trying to make appointments for him. Given some of the hysteria over 'death panels,' the medical profession is doing all they can to keep some elderly people alive, though not, I must say, with much co-operation from their patients!
Meanwhile, my 90 yo father, who is in reasonable health for his age, is trying to avoid the doctor, who keeps trying to make appointments for him. Given some of the hysteria over 'death panels,' the medical profession is doing all they can to keep some elderly people alive, though not, I must say, with much co-operation from their patients!
October 24, 2012
I spoke out...
One of the reasons that I write for the Guardian is that a lot of female writers have been put off by the level of threats in the comment threads. This is the Grauniad, please note, not the Fascist Misogynistic Gazette. I don't agree with this blogger's stance on the paranormal, but so what? She has a perfect right to her opinion. We can discuss it in the bar if necessary - not by trading rape threats over the internet. It doesn't surprise me at all that the worst threats come from within her community; I've seen the same recently within SF and it's the same type - the sad little trolls who didn't get to be bullies in school and are taking their chances now. Guess what? It's still not working. Still not shutting up. Not anytime soon.
http://www.slate.com/articles/double_x/doublex/2012/10/sexism_in_the_skeptic_community_i_spoke_out_then_came_the_rape_threats.html
http://www.slate.com/articles/double_x/doublex/2012/10/sexism_in_the_skeptic_community_i_spoke_out_then_came_the_rape_threats.html
October 18, 2012
Quick update
....to all of you who ordered Ghost Sister and the other e-books, my apologies for the delay. I've now finished the formatting of all 3 books and just want to do a quick doublecheck before sending them out early next week. We've been closing premises this week in Glastonbury, and it's obviously taking a great deal of time: it was not something that I had planned for at the start of the autumn, but we're getting back on track. My thanks for your patience.
Octocon
I flew out from Bristol on Friday - it took longer, almost, to get to the airport from our house (half an hour) than it did to fly from Bristol to Dublin. They did not have time to serve tea, but we did get a rather spectacular view of the estuary and the Brecon Beacons. And then, suddenly, Fishguard and the Irish Sea.
The con is currently held in a rather nice hotel on the south side, so I got off the bus in Temple Bar and walked down, past Dublin entering its Friday night phase. I did some further walking up to St Stephen's Green on Saturday, but much time was taken up with the con, which was excellent. I ended up doing some extra panels and also going to several, which I have fallen out of the habit of doing in recent years. It was a very interesting programme. Irish fans/pros are a great bunch (we did, by the way, celebrate Harry Harrison's life on the Sunday morning) and I met several people for the first time, including C E Murphy, and may I say what a delight that was: we've never managed to meet up previously and I'm so glad we did.
On Monday I went up to St S's Green again and admired it properly, then went over to the national museum, which was shut, so I found a very interesting exhibition on Yeats in the public library - itself a building of some splendour - including all his Golden Dawn regalia. They seemed to want to make a feature of his occult work, rather than sweeping it under the carpet. After this I had tea in the magnificence of Bewley's, and went to see the Book of Kells: I have seen this before but it's always worth a visit. What always strikes me about these ancient tomes is the tiny detail - all that Celtic knotwork is teeny. After the exhibition itself, Trinity channels you upstairs into the jawdropping Long Room, which has to be some Platonic ideal of a library.
Then I walked to the Porterhouse for the dead dog party and lunch, and over the Liffey into Dublin's North Side: a friend was born in a pub up here, which I managed to find (I sat in it for a bit and watched the racing from Roscommon). A lot of the north side is in a pretty bad way: some of it looks like Canary Wharf and then suddenly there's a derelict street, so one can tell where the recession hit, marking its impact on the face of the city.
And then the airport and home. I want to thank Gareth, Kate, Dani, Rachel and everyone else for making this such an excellent convention. Very well organised, interesting and friendly: highly recommended.
The con is currently held in a rather nice hotel on the south side, so I got off the bus in Temple Bar and walked down, past Dublin entering its Friday night phase. I did some further walking up to St Stephen's Green on Saturday, but much time was taken up with the con, which was excellent. I ended up doing some extra panels and also going to several, which I have fallen out of the habit of doing in recent years. It was a very interesting programme. Irish fans/pros are a great bunch (we did, by the way, celebrate Harry Harrison's life on the Sunday morning) and I met several people for the first time, including C E Murphy, and may I say what a delight that was: we've never managed to meet up previously and I'm so glad we did.
On Monday I went up to St S's Green again and admired it properly, then went over to the national museum, which was shut, so I found a very interesting exhibition on Yeats in the public library - itself a building of some splendour - including all his Golden Dawn regalia. They seemed to want to make a feature of his occult work, rather than sweeping it under the carpet. After this I had tea in the magnificence of Bewley's, and went to see the Book of Kells: I have seen this before but it's always worth a visit. What always strikes me about these ancient tomes is the tiny detail - all that Celtic knotwork is teeny. After the exhibition itself, Trinity channels you upstairs into the jawdropping Long Room, which has to be some Platonic ideal of a library.
Then I walked to the Porterhouse for the dead dog party and lunch, and over the Liffey into Dublin's North Side: a friend was born in a pub up here, which I managed to find (I sat in it for a bit and watched the racing from Roscommon). A lot of the north side is in a pretty bad way: some of it looks like Canary Wharf and then suddenly there's a derelict street, so one can tell where the recession hit, marking its impact on the face of the city.
And then the airport and home. I want to thank Gareth, Kate, Dani, Rachel and everyone else for making this such an excellent convention. Very well organised, interesting and friendly: highly recommended.
October 11, 2012
Octocon
I will be flying out to Dublin tomorrow, where I am GOH at Octocon. Looking forward to seeing some of you there. I must apologise to anyone who is waiting for tarot readings etc: we are, for reasons which will become clear shortly, snowed under at present, but I will be on the case with anything overdue next week.
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