Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 41
September 16, 2015
How was it for you?
So?
I heard (before it happened) that it was likely to be a shambles. Afterwards I read that Corbyn had 'abrogated his responsibility' as Opposition Leader.
But what do you think of Jeremy Corbyn's PMQ debut?
Personally, I'm impressed. And I'm impressed for the same reason I was impressed with his leadership campaign. I'm not a party member; I have voted Labour but I'm temperamentally a floating voter. And I'm weary of the theatricality and empty point-scoring of our so-called Parliamentary democracy.
Do you know why they sit there, like that, on rows of benches opposite each other? It's because the 'lower house' used to meet in St Stephen's chapel and chapels - like the chancels of large churches and cathedrals - are traditionally laid out that way with rows of benches, pews and stalls parallel to one another. In other words, it's an accident of history. And it's not one that's particularly healthy for democracy.
The next great influence on our parliamentary practices is, of course, the Oxbridge debating societies - especially the Oxford Union. The 'yaw-boo-sucks' style that seeks to rubbish an opponent or shout him/her down as much as make a case of one's own is seen most clearly in Prime Minister's Questions. Bobbing MPs, order papers, cheers, shouts, jeers, mocking laughter...
Or, this:
Makes a change, doesn't it? To hear questions, calmly put, plainly answered (or avoided) and then - to make up your own mind! Not to let the massed ranks of Westminster wonks and media mites tell us what went on, interpret it and endlessly analyse every aspect of it; not to let the spin doctors and point-scoring and rehearsed answers get in the way of what is, after all, still called Prime Minister's... questions. Questions. That's what Corbyn asked. It wasn't a show or a rally or a jamboree. And it shouldn't be.
It should do what it says on the tin.
And it did.
Let's hope it carries on doing so.
I heard (before it happened) that it was likely to be a shambles. Afterwards I read that Corbyn had 'abrogated his responsibility' as Opposition Leader.
But what do you think of Jeremy Corbyn's PMQ debut?
Personally, I'm impressed. And I'm impressed for the same reason I was impressed with his leadership campaign. I'm not a party member; I have voted Labour but I'm temperamentally a floating voter. And I'm weary of the theatricality and empty point-scoring of our so-called Parliamentary democracy.
Do you know why they sit there, like that, on rows of benches opposite each other? It's because the 'lower house' used to meet in St Stephen's chapel and chapels - like the chancels of large churches and cathedrals - are traditionally laid out that way with rows of benches, pews and stalls parallel to one another. In other words, it's an accident of history. And it's not one that's particularly healthy for democracy.
The next great influence on our parliamentary practices is, of course, the Oxbridge debating societies - especially the Oxford Union. The 'yaw-boo-sucks' style that seeks to rubbish an opponent or shout him/her down as much as make a case of one's own is seen most clearly in Prime Minister's Questions. Bobbing MPs, order papers, cheers, shouts, jeers, mocking laughter...
Or, this:
Makes a change, doesn't it? To hear questions, calmly put, plainly answered (or avoided) and then - to make up your own mind! Not to let the massed ranks of Westminster wonks and media mites tell us what went on, interpret it and endlessly analyse every aspect of it; not to let the spin doctors and point-scoring and rehearsed answers get in the way of what is, after all, still called Prime Minister's... questions. Questions. That's what Corbyn asked. It wasn't a show or a rally or a jamboree. And it shouldn't be.
It should do what it says on the tin.
And it did.
Let's hope it carries on doing so.
September 11, 2015
That was the week...
It's Friday, and I realise that although I've stared several posts, I haven't finished or published any of them. And I may never. So, here's a digest of the week instead:
- we have started school... again, in some cases, for the last time for one of us and for the first time in the case of the youngest member of the family. Thankfully, this seems to have gone well for all concerned which is no mean feat given the mess that is state education;
- Chris Packham has ruffled feathers (pun intended) by challenging the vested interests of several so-called conservation bodies. And I confess, before the furore, and based on his appearances on The Really Wild Show and Springwatch, I hadn't rated him. In fact, I'd hated him. How wrong can you be?
- it is the penultimate night of the Proms, and I am silently weeping in the knowledge both that the season is almost over and the recognition that I no longer sing in a choir worthy to perform there, live, in the RAH. And may never;
- the assisted dying bill has failed. As someone periodically troubled by physical pain verging on the unendurable I find this very troubling. Believe me, there is nothing noble in physical suffering and the only reason the Christian church (and therefore our vague societal morality) thinks the opposite is because of some vague borrowing from pre-Christian, pagan Greek philosophising. I would explain at greater length but for the fact that
- I must have an early night, the better to be ready to hail the morn that will be Jeremy Corbyn's accession to the Labour leadership. Because - like him or loathe him and irrespective of whether he proves electable as Prime Minister to the power-grubbing professional politicos, his triumph will change the nature of the political debate. And not before time...
And on that note, sleep well. And have a great weekend.
- we have started school... again, in some cases, for the last time for one of us and for the first time in the case of the youngest member of the family. Thankfully, this seems to have gone well for all concerned which is no mean feat given the mess that is state education;
- Chris Packham has ruffled feathers (pun intended) by challenging the vested interests of several so-called conservation bodies. And I confess, before the furore, and based on his appearances on The Really Wild Show and Springwatch, I hadn't rated him. In fact, I'd hated him. How wrong can you be?
- it is the penultimate night of the Proms, and I am silently weeping in the knowledge both that the season is almost over and the recognition that I no longer sing in a choir worthy to perform there, live, in the RAH. And may never;
- the assisted dying bill has failed. As someone periodically troubled by physical pain verging on the unendurable I find this very troubling. Believe me, there is nothing noble in physical suffering and the only reason the Christian church (and therefore our vague societal morality) thinks the opposite is because of some vague borrowing from pre-Christian, pagan Greek philosophising. I would explain at greater length but for the fact that
- I must have an early night, the better to be ready to hail the morn that will be Jeremy Corbyn's accession to the Labour leadership. Because - like him or loathe him and irrespective of whether he proves electable as Prime Minister to the power-grubbing professional politicos, his triumph will change the nature of the political debate. And not before time...
And on that note, sleep well. And have a great weekend.
September 3, 2015
Uniform rules?
Have you sent your little ones off to school this morning in their shiny new school uniforms? I have. Well, in the case of the two little ones, that is. The big one doesn't require much by way of a send off these days...
But I digress. I was asked what I thought about school uniform the other day (ff. 20mins in if you want a listen). And my answer was surprisingly hard to clarify. I'm a fan, I suppose, up to a point. But while I think the elaborate fetishes some schools go for (there's one round here that makes boys wear bow tie... with grey blazers trimmed with red piping!) and I think the money-grabbing schemes that make you buy from the school or from their 'chosen supplier' (at a premium!) ought to be challenged under monopolies legislation, on the whole and within reason, school uniform is a good thing.
It's a good thing from a teacher's point of view as its a great leveller. You notice (or should) what you need to notice - ability, aptitude, attitude, personality - with everything else reduced to the level of background noise. I imagine a similar thing happens at a nudist colony. Actually, perhaps not.
For parents, it's pretty vital. After a summer holiday of choosing your own outfit or else wearing the same one until it walks into the washing machine of its own accord I'm looking forward to the ease of having the uniform ready and waiting each morning. Getting the kids to school on time can be difficult enough without the extra hassle of adding choice to the mix. And a four year old whose choice would undoubtedly include fairy wings and a tiara might not be awfully practical or, indeed, conducive to learning.
So, where do you stand on the great school uniform debate? Are you for it or against it? Should school be a sartorial free-for-all or is it better to have one look for all?
I'm still little unsure, to be honest. I'm just delighted they don't make state primary pupils wear a cap any longer. But they did. Look -
Here's what all the best-dressed boys at Appleton Road Primary were wearing... a long, long time ago!
But I digress. I was asked what I thought about school uniform the other day (ff. 20mins in if you want a listen). And my answer was surprisingly hard to clarify. I'm a fan, I suppose, up to a point. But while I think the elaborate fetishes some schools go for (there's one round here that makes boys wear bow tie... with grey blazers trimmed with red piping!) and I think the money-grabbing schemes that make you buy from the school or from their 'chosen supplier' (at a premium!) ought to be challenged under monopolies legislation, on the whole and within reason, school uniform is a good thing.
It's a good thing from a teacher's point of view as its a great leveller. You notice (or should) what you need to notice - ability, aptitude, attitude, personality - with everything else reduced to the level of background noise. I imagine a similar thing happens at a nudist colony. Actually, perhaps not.
For parents, it's pretty vital. After a summer holiday of choosing your own outfit or else wearing the same one until it walks into the washing machine of its own accord I'm looking forward to the ease of having the uniform ready and waiting each morning. Getting the kids to school on time can be difficult enough without the extra hassle of adding choice to the mix. And a four year old whose choice would undoubtedly include fairy wings and a tiara might not be awfully practical or, indeed, conducive to learning.
So, where do you stand on the great school uniform debate? Are you for it or against it? Should school be a sartorial free-for-all or is it better to have one look for all?
I'm still little unsure, to be honest. I'm just delighted they don't make state primary pupils wear a cap any longer. But they did. Look -
Here's what all the best-dressed boys at Appleton Road Primary were wearing... a long, long time ago!
August 30, 2015
Jeremy's jumpers
I see he's done it again. Or rather, I don't - I've heard about it on the news and probably won't bother buying the newspaper this morning having done so.
Who? Blair, that's who. And what? Intervened again - for the third time - in the Labour leadership election, warning of much wailing and gnashing of teeth should Jeremy Corbyn win. That's what.
Now, I'm not a party member nor even an affiliate. I haven't a say in who they elect as leader. But I have something else to say. And it's this. As a floating voter, I'd vote for Corbyn as Prime Minister.
Why? Because he doesn't look or speak like a silicon politician, that's why. He's a human being. He's honest: he won't tell us what we want to hear, nor wriggle and squirm like a worm when asked an awkward question - he'll say what he thinks. How refreshing!
Let me also make clear I don't agree with everything he thinks. My personal jury is still out on anti-austerity policies (unlike a growing body of economists including a former Bank of England advisor). But I'm all for renationalising the railways (having enjoyed the nationalised service that was East Coast before the government gave it to Richard Branson), I admire his women's manifesto and support his environmental pledges.
But if you want to know the real clincher, here it is. He wears jumpers knitted by his mother...
Now tell me you're not going to vote for him!
Who? Blair, that's who. And what? Intervened again - for the third time - in the Labour leadership election, warning of much wailing and gnashing of teeth should Jeremy Corbyn win. That's what.
Now, I'm not a party member nor even an affiliate. I haven't a say in who they elect as leader. But I have something else to say. And it's this. As a floating voter, I'd vote for Corbyn as Prime Minister.
Why? Because he doesn't look or speak like a silicon politician, that's why. He's a human being. He's honest: he won't tell us what we want to hear, nor wriggle and squirm like a worm when asked an awkward question - he'll say what he thinks. How refreshing!
Let me also make clear I don't agree with everything he thinks. My personal jury is still out on anti-austerity policies (unlike a growing body of economists including a former Bank of England advisor). But I'm all for renationalising the railways (having enjoyed the nationalised service that was East Coast before the government gave it to Richard Branson), I admire his women's manifesto and support his environmental pledges.
But if you want to know the real clincher, here it is. He wears jumpers knitted by his mother...
Now tell me you're not going to vote for him!
August 27, 2015
Mirror, mirror
A lot has been written and much said lately about UK children being among the unhappiest in the world.
All the usual suspects have been lined up for interrogation: exams, schools, bullying, body image. Smartphones too, are apparently part of the problem - owning one can increase the risk of suffering depression. And although such things are obviously only first-world problems (along with 'feeling left out' and 'low self-confidence') they are all real enough and however small they might seem compared to the problems that children (happier children) have in Eritrea or Ethiopia they are - to paraphrase Philip Larkin - happening to us.
As a parent of what I define as three reasonably happy children I confess I'm more than a little puzzled. Although I'm convinced that the pressure schools (and - be honest - many parents) put on children is intolerable it's nothing compared the educational expectations in a place like Japan. Ok, body image and diet is an issue, sure enough, but not having enough food or the right food ranks a little higher. And social media? Isn't the misery caused by social media a bit like complaining about what you're watching on the telly?
But I digress. As ever, the problem seems to be less about what we've got and more about what we think we should have. Everyone is always (or seems to be) happier than us. They've got the looks, more money, nicer hair, a car. It's not the stuff we've got (or not got) that makes us miserable as much as what we're told we want; it's not who we are but those with whom we're forced to compare ourselves.
Forgive the quantum leap, but there's a connection here between kids feeling miserable and things like the Ashley Madison ('life is short, have an affair') site. Not being a member (honest, guv) I can't say I know that much about it but from what I've read, the site exists to persuade people to cheat on their spouse/wife/partner merely for the sake of trying something (or someone) else for size.
There are, of course, people who have affairs (of all kinds) and there probably alway will. And at least in some instances it involves a personal connection, friendship, bond, relationship, with another human being you'd quite like to get to know (carnally). But hooking up with someone 'for the sake of' seems to be the ultimate in the desperate desire for more and different that we're all - as part of the consumerist con - brainwashed into believing will make us happy.
Here's my advice (for what it's worth). Enjoy what you've got. Instead of joining Ashley Maddison (or something similar) enjoy the time you spend with your own partner. Instead of wondering which child has better grades than yours, celebrate their achievements. Oh, and don't buy them the 'next big thing' in toys or take them to that mega-expensive theme park, either. Give 'em a cardboard box or take them to the park instead. Not only is it cheaper, but they'll have a lot more fun. And learn to use their own imagination, too.
And with a bit of imagination...
All the usual suspects have been lined up for interrogation: exams, schools, bullying, body image. Smartphones too, are apparently part of the problem - owning one can increase the risk of suffering depression. And although such things are obviously only first-world problems (along with 'feeling left out' and 'low self-confidence') they are all real enough and however small they might seem compared to the problems that children (happier children) have in Eritrea or Ethiopia they are - to paraphrase Philip Larkin - happening to us.
As a parent of what I define as three reasonably happy children I confess I'm more than a little puzzled. Although I'm convinced that the pressure schools (and - be honest - many parents) put on children is intolerable it's nothing compared the educational expectations in a place like Japan. Ok, body image and diet is an issue, sure enough, but not having enough food or the right food ranks a little higher. And social media? Isn't the misery caused by social media a bit like complaining about what you're watching on the telly?
But I digress. As ever, the problem seems to be less about what we've got and more about what we think we should have. Everyone is always (or seems to be) happier than us. They've got the looks, more money, nicer hair, a car. It's not the stuff we've got (or not got) that makes us miserable as much as what we're told we want; it's not who we are but those with whom we're forced to compare ourselves.
Forgive the quantum leap, but there's a connection here between kids feeling miserable and things like the Ashley Madison ('life is short, have an affair') site. Not being a member (honest, guv) I can't say I know that much about it but from what I've read, the site exists to persuade people to cheat on their spouse/wife/partner merely for the sake of trying something (or someone) else for size.
There are, of course, people who have affairs (of all kinds) and there probably alway will. And at least in some instances it involves a personal connection, friendship, bond, relationship, with another human being you'd quite like to get to know (carnally). But hooking up with someone 'for the sake of' seems to be the ultimate in the desperate desire for more and different that we're all - as part of the consumerist con - brainwashed into believing will make us happy.
Here's my advice (for what it's worth). Enjoy what you've got. Instead of joining Ashley Maddison (or something similar) enjoy the time you spend with your own partner. Instead of wondering which child has better grades than yours, celebrate their achievements. Oh, and don't buy them the 'next big thing' in toys or take them to that mega-expensive theme park, either. Give 'em a cardboard box or take them to the park instead. Not only is it cheaper, but they'll have a lot more fun. And learn to use their own imagination, too.
And with a bit of imagination...
August 15, 2015
A Trip to Waddesdon Manor
As days out go, it was a good one. For a start, the sun shone. It didn't rain. Nobody was sick. We went round a stately home and didn't break anything.
And Waddesdon Manor is some stately home! Built by Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild in 1874 to house his art collection (as you do) it's a cross between a Disney-castle and a French chateau. It's more impressive (imho) from the outside. And the grounds are fabulous.
But the interior is just about the most outrageously vulgar display of opulence I've ever seen. It's built of bling - big bling, too - it's so bad it's actually good. It's as if Baron Ferdinand and his family set out to be as obviously ostentatious as they could be. And then - and here's the really crafty bit - they got the National Trust to pay for the upkeep of it.
I'd rather been under the impression that the Trust took on the crumbling ancestral piles of those poverty-stricken scions of the upper classes who for one reason or another found themselves well, on their uppers. That's hardly the case with the Rothschild's, however. Chateau Lafite is certainly doing well enough for them and the National Trust appears to be acting as wine merchant at Waddesdon.
Well, I may have got it wrong. Perhaps the dear old Rothschild's really aren't rolling in it. But they certainly were, judging by this stately pile of theirs. They even have their own - not the National Trust's, note - monogram on the seats of the shuttle buses that take you from the car park up the drive and to the house itself. Which is, however, well worth a visit. 335,000 visitors a year (it's one of the Trust's most-visited properties) can't be wrong, can they?
Waddesdon Manor is open every day except Monday and Tuesday. A family ticket costs £45 for the whole site or &20 (gardens only).
And Waddesdon Manor is some stately home! Built by Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild in 1874 to house his art collection (as you do) it's a cross between a Disney-castle and a French chateau. It's more impressive (imho) from the outside. And the grounds are fabulous.
But the interior is just about the most outrageously vulgar display of opulence I've ever seen. It's built of bling - big bling, too - it's so bad it's actually good. It's as if Baron Ferdinand and his family set out to be as obviously ostentatious as they could be. And then - and here's the really crafty bit - they got the National Trust to pay for the upkeep of it.
I'd rather been under the impression that the Trust took on the crumbling ancestral piles of those poverty-stricken scions of the upper classes who for one reason or another found themselves well, on their uppers. That's hardly the case with the Rothschild's, however. Chateau Lafite is certainly doing well enough for them and the National Trust appears to be acting as wine merchant at Waddesdon.
Well, I may have got it wrong. Perhaps the dear old Rothschild's really aren't rolling in it. But they certainly were, judging by this stately pile of theirs. They even have their own - not the National Trust's, note - monogram on the seats of the shuttle buses that take you from the car park up the drive and to the house itself. Which is, however, well worth a visit. 335,000 visitors a year (it's one of the Trust's most-visited properties) can't be wrong, can they?
Waddesdon Manor is open every day except Monday and Tuesday. A family ticket costs £45 for the whole site or &20 (gardens only).
August 10, 2015
Happy Birthday BBC Proms - 120 today!
That wonderful British musical institution, the Proms, is well under way again at the Albert Hall.
Have you been to one yet? We usually make the pilgrimage to London at least once each season. Here's how close I managed to park last year:
Impressive, huh? Mind you, that wasn't as close as the first time I ever went to a Promenade Concert. That was way back in 1990 and I was dropped at the stage door - as a performer. Ok, I was but one member of a rather large choir but it was a terrific thrill - one I had the good fortune to repeat several times during my stint with the RLPC (Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Choir).
Today - this very day - is the 120th anniversary of the first-ever promenade concert. Back then they were known as the 'Robert Newman Proms' which subsequently became the Henry Wood Proms and then the BBC Henry Wood Proms and now seem to have become known simply as the BBC Proms.
Well, they do pay for it. And sustain it with their many orchestras and choirs (some of whom we Liverpool singers shared a platform with, not always successfully... but that's another story).
I get a little irritated at our constant need to refer to great British occasions as the best in the world. You know, the way we always ask foreign players if they agree with the unspoken assumption that Wimbledon is 'special' and refer to Lord's as the home of cricket (I think Hambledon has an earlier claim to that title) and so on.
But if you'll forgive the trumpet-blowing for a moment, the Proms really is the best music festival on the planet. You can still get in (to 'promenade') for just a fiver.
Although the programme'll cost you a little more than the 80p I parted with way back in September 1990.
Have you been to one yet? We usually make the pilgrimage to London at least once each season. Here's how close I managed to park last year:
Impressive, huh? Mind you, that wasn't as close as the first time I ever went to a Promenade Concert. That was way back in 1990 and I was dropped at the stage door - as a performer. Ok, I was but one member of a rather large choir but it was a terrific thrill - one I had the good fortune to repeat several times during my stint with the RLPC (Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Choir).
Today - this very day - is the 120th anniversary of the first-ever promenade concert. Back then they were known as the 'Robert Newman Proms' which subsequently became the Henry Wood Proms and then the BBC Henry Wood Proms and now seem to have become known simply as the BBC Proms.
Well, they do pay for it. And sustain it with their many orchestras and choirs (some of whom we Liverpool singers shared a platform with, not always successfully... but that's another story).
I get a little irritated at our constant need to refer to great British occasions as the best in the world. You know, the way we always ask foreign players if they agree with the unspoken assumption that Wimbledon is 'special' and refer to Lord's as the home of cricket (I think Hambledon has an earlier claim to that title) and so on.
But if you'll forgive the trumpet-blowing for a moment, the Proms really is the best music festival on the planet. You can still get in (to 'promenade') for just a fiver.
Although the programme'll cost you a little more than the 80p I parted with way back in September 1990.
August 7, 2015
Back to School
Summer is in full-swing. I'm writing this whilst soaking up the sun next to a rather crowded (and extremely noisy) paddling pool in an excellent urban park. What more do kids want? What more do parents ask for in the six weeks than the sound of happy children and (free) out-door entertainment?
I'm also taking the chance - having been away for a few days - of downloading and deleting - I mean, reading - the many (hundreds) emails I've received.
Is that a cloud on the horizon? Yes. Because if the subject line of one is 'back to school' the subject line of almost every one of the darned things exhortse to prepare, plan for and otherwise project forwards to September 1st.
I may be in a minority of one (other than teachers) but I don't want to be reminded that this summer idyll has to end. I don't want the fact that term, life, work, and all that it entails is just a few short weeks away and that this wonderfully free - carefree - existence isn't the norm.
It was the same a thousand years ago when I was a kid. Not emails (obviously) nor tweets. Shops. Shops of all and every hue would seem to put up back-to-school displays the moment we broke up.
Meanwhile I'll sit here getting splashed, deafened and deleting every email with a back-to-school theme unread.
Life's too short.
And I'm on holiday.
I'm also taking the chance - having been away for a few days - of downloading and deleting - I mean, reading - the many (hundreds) emails I've received.
Is that a cloud on the horizon? Yes. Because if the subject line of one is 'back to school' the subject line of almost every one of the darned things exhortse to prepare, plan for and otherwise project forwards to September 1st.
I may be in a minority of one (other than teachers) but I don't want to be reminded that this summer idyll has to end. I don't want the fact that term, life, work, and all that it entails is just a few short weeks away and that this wonderfully free - carefree - existence isn't the norm.
It was the same a thousand years ago when I was a kid. Not emails (obviously) nor tweets. Shops. Shops of all and every hue would seem to put up back-to-school displays the moment we broke up.
Meanwhile I'll sit here getting splashed, deafened and deleting every email with a back-to-school theme unread.
Life's too short.
And I'm on holiday.
July 29, 2015
Leap Over the Learning Gap
What do you do in the holidays to help bridge that long learning gap?
Well, clearly there are a host of educational activities all over the place. But if the weather's as awful as it has been this week there's sometimes nothing for it but to stay indoors and do your best.
But help - courtesy of Leap Pad - is at hand in a host of ways. We were recently sent the Interactive World Map to try and Charlie has loved it, learning (without knowing it) along the way.
It works with the Leap Reader that we reviewed a while ago. As with the books, you download the software and... Let the little ones go!
Well, clearly there are a host of educational activities all over the place. But if the weather's as awful as it has been this week there's sometimes nothing for it but to stay indoors and do your best.
But help - courtesy of Leap Pad - is at hand in a host of ways. We were recently sent the Interactive World Map to try and Charlie has loved it, learning (without knowing it) along the way.
It works with the Leap Reader that we reviewed a while ago. As with the books, you download the software and... Let the little ones go!
July 23, 2015
Giving it away...
Ok, so you missed out on my free book giveaway. The winner (announced on the FB page) was Anna from Birmingham and she's soon to be the proud(?) owner of a copy of my novel, Writing Therapy.
But don't despair! (You weren't?) Ok, well, as a little extra something the Kindle edition of the book is free to download from tomorrow for five days. Inspired by the Hallé Orchestra's pay-what-you-like concert in September I've decided to let anyone and everyone have it for free and then pay (if they wish) whatever they think it's worth. I know, dangerous. But interesting.
Should anyone decide to cough up there's a 'donate' button on the Dotterel Press home page. But I'd be equally pleased if as many people as felt like it downloaded it, read it, enjoyed it and - maybe - reviewed it or discussed it or recommended it.
Writing Therapy was first published in 2008 to considerable (for a first novel) acclaim and was nominated for the Young Minds fiction award the same year. It was my first attempt at fiction. Indeed, it was my first full-length publication having previously only had articles and features in magazines and newspapers. I was heartened by the response; the sales were respectable, too. And many people kindly told me how they'd been inspired or helped or reassured by what they'd read. Which is about the best feedback of all, to be honest.
So, why not try it for yourself? It'll never be everyone's cup of tea (you can see why I'm not in marketing) but if you fancy reading something different this summer, why not click the link?
But don't despair! (You weren't?) Ok, well, as a little extra something the Kindle edition of the book is free to download from tomorrow for five days. Inspired by the Hallé Orchestra's pay-what-you-like concert in September I've decided to let anyone and everyone have it for free and then pay (if they wish) whatever they think it's worth. I know, dangerous. But interesting.
Should anyone decide to cough up there's a 'donate' button on the Dotterel Press home page. But I'd be equally pleased if as many people as felt like it downloaded it, read it, enjoyed it and - maybe - reviewed it or discussed it or recommended it.
Writing Therapy was first published in 2008 to considerable (for a first novel) acclaim and was nominated for the Young Minds fiction award the same year. It was my first attempt at fiction. Indeed, it was my first full-length publication having previously only had articles and features in magazines and newspapers. I was heartened by the response; the sales were respectable, too. And many people kindly told me how they'd been inspired or helped or reassured by what they'd read. Which is about the best feedback of all, to be honest.
So, why not try it for yourself? It'll never be everyone's cup of tea (you can see why I'm not in marketing) but if you fancy reading something different this summer, why not click the link?
