Ailsa Abraham's Blog: Ailsa Abraham, page 63

The Writer’s ABC Checklist: Do Your Homework

The Writer’s ABC Checklist: Do Your Homework.

 

The very famous Lorraine Mace invited me over to chat! I was flattered.

Tag-tease!

No, it isn’t a new kind of deviant game (shame! shame!) It’s a writers’ game and I was delighted to receive this invitation on FB.
Frances Di Plino
Yesterday







I received this message from my author friend, David W RobinsonWIP-tease.

Post any paragraph from your work in progress, then tag three others.

Finding a not too shocking extract that also had context wasn’t easy, but I think most readers will get the gist of what’s going on from this.

 

“I shook Jason’s shoulder to wake him, expecting another snarl of defiance, but he barely moved. I suppose I might have gone a bit overboard with the tazer the night before, but he’d been harder to break than the others. I’d managed it in the end, though. The marks on his flesh would heal soon enough. I knew from experience, the marks on his mind would last a lifetime.”

Thanks for naming me, Frances, here is my extract from Book 3 of The Alchemy Trilogy. 

She admired the display, hugging it to her as I gently turned her around.

“You, My Lady, are going to upset a lot of apple-carts if you go around behaving like that. The staff aren’t used to calling the family by their first names. Gus will be very happy if you let him call you Lady Riga. He’ll call me Master Olly until my father dies and then I will be Your Grace.”

Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh have I upset him? I’m sorry, Iamo. I just don’t know the rules. I’m so hopeless at this aristocracy business. I knew where I was as a Black Shaman or even down at our house but I’m like a bull in a china shop here.”

I kissed the top of her head.

“Just follow my lead. They will be very confused if you do not play the game. They do and we all understand it. You will too. Oh and my mother would like to see you later, when you are both rested. She wants to have a little “girlie chat”, I believe it is called”

Riga’s mouth fell open. She had no need to speak as her wide eyes said it all.

“She has had a change of heart, beloved. Some good comes of all things. Her illness seems to have softened her more than I could have imagined. She hugged me.”

As Riga stepped back, my gaze fell on the bouquet she had been clutching to her belly. Half of it had turned black as if blighted by frost

 

See my post on FB to pick up on my tag-mates.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Education

I’ve been asked by a friend whose daughter has Bipolar Condition to share my experiences.

I can’t do better than refer you to this 3-part BBC series by Stephen Fry. It’s long but the best explanation I’ve ever seen

I don’t know why we aren’t called “Manic Depressives” any more. Perhaps it was too scary. We are now Bipolars or Bippies because that sounds more as if it is in cuddly round balloon-like letters.

B I p p y

 

I’ve just had an “episode”. We used to call them nervous breakdowns but we don’t do that either – it feels as if some Medical Dictionary Authority has decided to take the sting out of one of the most frightening mental health conditions around. I’m cyclothemic, like Stephen Fry, which means that my mood swings can change within the course of the day. I’m also Bipolar 1 which is worst kind. So quite literally I can go from the crest of a wave to genuinely wanting to kill myself in 24 hours.

Fortunately these really bad episodes don’t happen very often these days now that I am on medication. When they do …I’m not a threat to anyone but myself. My demon has decided that the world would be a better place without me and he isn’t going to let me go…but he means no harm to anyone else. He refuses to let me think of my family and friends.

Don’t be scared of us. Be scared FOR us if you like. 35% of us will succeed and die by our own hands but we don’t mean you any harm.

If you know someone who is talking about suicide as if it is a rational way – get them to a doctor. Go with them if you have to because, you see, we don’t think there is anything wrong – it’s quite normal for us.

I’m not turning on comments for this post. I’m sure you’ll understand why.

 

50 shades of purple

I don’t do grey. I’m Bipolar. That means that life is technicolor or monochrome.

My favourite colour is purple. So I decided long ago that I wouldn’t do monochrome, like photographs of the Somme, I’d do shades of purple.

Most people wake up and think – is this a good idea?

I wake up and think – ahhhhhhhhhhhh this planet again. See – I’m an alien and I have to fit into human behaviour patterns.Mostly I try to make people laugh – you humans are so obsessed with being miserable… someone has to shake you out of it.

So tag on the end and join in the dance, this isn’t going to end soon …………

Come on, dance!

What place is this?

I don’t like bacon. Why do they bring me bacon?

I’ll send it back. I eat..not meat, things from the ground, fruit, I’m unitarian, not the right word…doesn’t matter. Looking out of the window I murmur to myself

What place is this?

That’s a quotation. Something. Was an actress, should know some. What’s in that bag? Oh make-up. Look in the mirror. Who did that to my hair? Where are my highlights? Must go to the hairdresser. Put on my black eye-liner and Goth make-up. Looks odd but makes me feel better. For a moment there is a different bathroom reflected in the mirror behind the old lady I assume has to be me but doesn’t look like me. A stone-built house in France. I lived there with…fat bloke, always angry, shouted a lot…don’t remember his name. Didn’t like him. Perhaps I’ll call him Bacon. Giggle to myself and wave at the mirror. “Hello, Mr. Bacon! Glad you aren’t here!”

I must have dozed off because when I wake up I am thinking of my boat, my lovely little yacht and Andy. Andy was my husband. He went away somewhere with a man, don’t remember who. Wonder where he is now?

“Hello, Princess!” There’s a man at the door. He didn’t knock. Nobody knocks, that’s rude. He smiles at me and looks sad. I wonder if he has a relative in this place, hotel, prison, what is this place? I smile back and offer my hand. We always shook hands in France. I don’t think I’m in France now. People speak English to me and they don’t shake hands.

“Would you like to use the computer today, Princess?” He is talking to me gently and I look at the machine he is setting up. I’m not stupid, I remember what a computer is, been using them most of my life!

“Who would you like to type to on Skype today, hmm?” He talks as if he knows me, as if we do this often but I can’t remember. I wonder if I should give him a hug but decide not to, he might not take it kindly from a stranger.

“My boyfriend!” That came out a bit forcefully and he smiles again but still sadly. Poor man, he must have a lot on his mind.

I remember how to type but I stare at the icons and don’t remember which to press first. He makes it work and sits on a chair behind me, playing with his mobile phone.

“Hello, my beloved.” I type, “When will we be together? Is it soon? Can I come and live with you soon?”

The answer comes back from the screen “Yes, darling, very soon now.” and I feel happy. I remember that my boyfriend and I can’t be together but not why. He is in…. no, don’t remember where.

The man with the white hair is crying over his mobile phone now, his shoulders shaking and I feel sorry for him. I wish I knew who he was. I turn away to type on the screen.

“Love you, Teddy Bear.”

“Love you too, Princess! and a huggy teddy followed by a heart” Funny, that’s what the man with the white hair called me. Shall I tell him? No, he is still sobbing. I’ll ignore him and talk to my boyfriend. Wish I could remember … more.

A woman comes in with a tray, meat again and I scream at her. The man with the white hair goes to speak to her and I return to my screen to see “BRB…” my Teddy Bear has had to go away and I start to cry.

Where is he? What is this place?

***

This was written for an anthology about Alzheimer Disease which was never published. 

 

The Natives are friendly

Strange behavior by the river today. On our usual walk with the dogs, we spotted several car-loads of folks on the other side of the river, with poles and assumed they were off on a ramble, so I waved. That’s what I do, see? I wave and say hello to people. I do it everywhere. Even on the Tube (underground, metro) I chat. Yes, sometimes I get a weird reaction but even the young lad wearing his baseball  cap the wrong way around and playing a game on his mobile phone was happy to show me how to play. I complimented him on how clever he was with it as my fat ole fingers wouldn’t move that quickly. He was a nice lad. We got on fine. I pretended I didn’t see the knife sticking out of his pocket and he never looked threatening at all.

Well these people this morning got all defensive. I’ve no idea why. One large lady waving and saying “Bonjour” isn’t that unusual…is it? They behaved as if they had been caught doing something wrong and tried to ignore me. I don’t much like being ignored. Eventually a rather pompous woman came to the water’s edge and asked me what I wanted.

I said “You’re not from around here are you?” which is pretty funny given my foreign accent. “We always say hello to everyone in this village. After all, a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet.”

Consternation.

Someone wants to be friendly!

Hasty consultation and then they all lined up and waved back at me – it was a bit like an infant school Nativity play.

We waved back (again) and the dogs barked and then I fell about laughing.

Goodness knows what they would have done if I’d played my next favourite Underground game – Vertical Speed Dating – quick, find out the name of the person standing opposite you before the next station.  Yes, I did nearly get arrested for that but I left a lot of people grinning. All it takes is one eejit – just the one. And it’s always me. 

The Sunday Show – Ailsa Abraham – writer and blogger – How did you get here?

The Sunday Show – Ailsa Abraham – writer and blogger – How did you get here?.

BARGAIN!

You all know that I am writing a trilogy

The first  two books are available for the amazing price of 77p ebook version for a limited time

Get on over to Amazon and buy Alchemy and Shaman’s Drum NOW

 

Dynamo?

Twitter seems to be becoming a very fertile source for my blog these days. Such as….

Sally Cronin @sgc58 · 19h

Grande Finale http://wp.me/p2UwIj-Xe  via @ailsaabraham keep up everyone with this dynamo if you can!

I’m deeply flattered by this and the fact that Sally has asked me to appear on her blog Smorgasbord

 

I’m not a dynamo really. The days I rush around meeting myself coming back are the days when I have enough energy to get stuff done. They are just about equal to the days when I drip around like a dying house-plant.

Of course I’ve tried bribery!

 

Also, having nearly died so often, the first time at birth, it was 50/50 whether my twin brother or I copped it and he lost. Since then I have spent my entire life playing poker with The Grim Reaper. I’ve won so far; perhaps I feel I have to make the most of every day I get.

 

I won’t go into how many bits of me are missing or what dastardly tricks DEATH (Pratchett fans will understand this) has played on me. Suffice to say, I have the chips, he is still playing and I don’t intend to fold just yet.

 

So Dynamo is a huge compliment but maybe only partially true and if it is – well, it’s thanks to the guy with the sickle, or the Crone if you are otherwise inclined.

 

Artist unknown but many thanks.

 

Grande Finale

Families. Emotive word and subject. We have an expression in French “une famille réconstitué” and it means what it says. People split up, get together with others, children find themselves living with other kids … I’ve lived long enough in a Catholic country to count everyone as family. If they were family but technically aren’t any more and I still love them, ah, soddit, they are family.

http://www.wondersofdisney.disneyfansites.com

So a lovely lady who used to be my daughter in law and whose kids call me Granny Piglet or Great Granny Piglet is obviously family. We hadn’t seen each other in years, during which time she had found an new and much nicer husband whom we met. (Incidentally I am vastly amused to find that in the Scots’ dialect version of Winnie the Pooh, Piglet is known as ‘ Wee Grumphie” and if that isn’t a great new pen name for me, I don’t know what is).

It was marvellous. I don’t normally do free publicity but  the campsite in Millau (pronounced Meeow) St. Lambert was great. The woman who runs it speaks perfect English and has a sense of humour. She’d just spoken with the Old Feller so I went back to ask about WiFi and said in French “I’m the wife of the old Viking beardy one”. We got that sorted out. Then my daughter in law / friend / family member arrived and there was a screeched exchange in Welsh, Breton and English before we practiced the full-contact sport known as the Abraham family hug (not for the faint-hearted or those suffering from osteoporosis)

Having chatted with the manager, I left her some of my cards as she said she liked reading in English too and here are some pictures of the area included.

Obviously a family reunion after all this time was a very noisy affair. I don’t think I’ve talked so much since I gave up teaching, there were years to catch up on.

They are also taking my cards home with them to strut my stuff around Wales… I might end up doing a book signing in my new brother’s garage! Don’t knock it… he knows everyone!

Joy of joys, having not driven much since my foot operation in December 2012, I finally drove the rig (Myfanwe the van and the caravan) and despite having a very bad “funny turn” the first time when I thought I was going to pass out, the second time was find and I was humming “Convoy”

and doing my “flashing in” the other truckers …. I had a wonderful time but now I am up to my ears in work – articles, guest posts, post holiday drudgery and a book to finish… don’t bother me, I’m busy! But oh boy aren’t family reunions just the best thing ever?

World famous viaduct at Millau – no, it really is that scary!