Hermione Laake's Blog: Thoughts, page 3

MY FRIEND ALIEN

Take a look at my video about my new book for children. It was nominated for an award in 2013 and I have published it in Kindle as a paperback and digitally from MONDAY. The digital copy will be fluorescent PINK from Monday.

My book goes live on Monday. Please consider supporting my writing journey by buying a digital copy and buying it for friends if you like it. (Did you know you can download the Kindle app on your phone in a few seconds and read books on your phone?)

I don’t make an income from my writing, and I would like to change that this year.

Also watch this space for a new cover by a very special artist coming later on in the year.

Thank you all for following my writing journey.

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How do you like your Coffee? Language and Communication in Britain

I was reminded this week of those heady days when coffee shops became ubiquitous and you had to learn the language, or be treated with disdain by the Barista. No longer could you simply ask for coffee; it was americano; you had to know the fashionable coffee of the day; right now that is a flat white or a cortado. Years back, you could get a tall, wet, one-shot latte from Starbucks and I make a point of asking for that when I am visiting my old favourite in Bournemouth, although they have closed it down in Bath now. I used to use the upstairs as a meeting place to at Christmas. Venues can become like second homes when you visit them regularly. You notice when they change the seating.

Nowadays, they are more patient with me when I ask for ‘tall’ when I mean ‘small’ because I have been visiting another city and a different coffee shop. In Starbucks you get your coffee tall and grande, whereas it is large and small in Coffee 1, and simply small, medium or large in Costa.

What got me thinking about this was Greggs. A place I wouldn’t set foot in if it wasn’t for the free ‘breakfast role’ which I pick up on Fridays for a friend because it is full of unhealthy food and too bright, in my opinion. I was in there yesterday and could not make the assistant understand me. The reason. She calls the ‘breakfast role’ a ‘sausage bap’. The same thing happened to my friend in Greggs this morning with a completely different assistant who said the same thing, so I know it isn’t my accent. Anyway, although my partner and I laugh at the way we pronounce ‘Bath’ differently. He shortens the vowel and I lengthen it, we both pronounce sausage exactly the same. I wonder why that is. I suspect there is another story in that observation.

Voice, or reader in performance

Voice – Reader in Performance Read by Hermione Wilds

Health and Safety?

I am disgusted at the recent allegations and allusions to “gatherings”, “events”, and “parties” by working members of a government elected to represent the British people, and by those associated with them. If these took place, this is more than immature, it is deeply irresponsible.

I am writing as the mother of a young and professional member of the NHS who prefers to keep anonymity, and as a mother of 5 children.

I raised my children to respect laws and to understand that there were consequences to poor behaviour; to understand that with freedom comes responsibility. Yet it appears that we have people in very prominent positions in government that have broken those rules. Who are these people, and why do they break the rules they are responsible for making?

Last Christmas I was unable to see my Mother, or any of my children because of the restrictions of “lockdown”. I was devastated, but we all felt that it was the right thing to do. The restrictions were such that there was no way of meeting up because family was either at university or living in London or some distance away, and breaking restrictions was not an option. I remember saying to a friend that maybe her daughter’s hen party could still go ahead if they all sat at separate tables of 6 in a cafe at one point, but this was simply a desperate conversation of which there were many as I tried to navigate the emotional stress of the enormity of being asked not to mix with family at Christmastime and having to cancel pre-planned events. Surely there was a way. Sometimes Christmas is the only time that a whole family gets together, and sometimes (for example, when a member of the family is in the process of a medical degree where they get very little time off while studying for their exam), it is the only time a mother sees her child in the space of a year. When you are in a position of responsibility your responsibility is to your patients first and there is no question of breaking rules which might jeopardise their health, or put them at risk. You are required to make personal sacrifices and your family along with you. It seems to me that the same rules applied to the public during moments where new rules were made.The rules made no exceptions because public health was at risk.

I remember listening to anguished relatives talking on the radio about how they were unable to visit terminally ill relatives and thinking well my problems are nothing by comparison even though my own mother was high risk and had to stay at home. Of course, I felt responsible and wanted to visit her but I had to do so when restrictions were lifted.

In work, I have found myself in situations where rules were being broken and I have always raised this and encouraged others to do so to. I have resigned from posts where I didn’t feel properly supported, or that those I was working with had behaved professionally. I have always raised matters that went against protocol. I have always shared with colleagues that when you do not raise problems or point out errors, risk, or potential hazards you become part of the problem or culture; for example, in recent years health and safety at work became the responsibility of all employees and not just one designated individual. In other words, if you spot a hazard it is your responsibility to raise this with the designated person in charge, and if that is you to deal with it.

When basic health and safety rules are ignored by many people, a culture of fear can prevent people from speaking out. Or, which is worse, people can become blind to risk factors believing the risk factor is someone else’s problem.

Boris stuttered his way through a speech in which he lauded the imagination. Why?

It is yesterday’s news. But…Finally, after I have waited my whole life for the gift I was given; an imagination, to become valued in society, our Prime Minister decided the imagination is worth talking about, because, wait for it, it makes money; so, hey, it must be of value after all.

In A Critique of Pure Reason it was Kant who observed that it was the memory that categorised for expediency, but the imagination that did something entirely different. You see, the imagination has the ability to wonder what if? and why? Other thinking requires memory of prior things, and things as they are, or things to remain as they are, sometimes that means stereotypical, and this places value on the memory, because it is the memory that reminds us, for example, that the imagination, certainly in this age, is of no value. Monetary value being the marker for value; profit; GDP and KPIs, and so forth. Perhaps that is why Boris stuttered through his speech to restore the imagination to its prior place in society; a place it perhaps enjoyed when, for example, Coleridge and Wordsworth were writing poetry and feelings were not something to be ashamed of. Perhaps Boris’s education did not cover English Literature, and, having no prior knowledge of his literary history, his memory failed him. So he drew on Peppa Pig instead of our great and poor poets. Or perhaps it was deliberate since value in anything is equal to monetary value in our present society in spite of Greta Thunberg’s perhaps prophetic retort to World Leaders, ‘you talk of money’ ((2019). Poets do not conjure up the same feeling of wealth.

English GCSE syllabus has placed grammar and punctuation ahead of ideas, turn of phrase, feeling, observation, and empathy; all of which are an intrinsic facet of the imagination and of equal value to well presented letters. We end up with very dull and imaginationless writing when people believe that if they can get a good editor, or present writing well, but without a reader in mind, they are blessed with an imagination. However, the imagination is a complex thing not easily understood and it needs work. Edgar Allen Poe observed that those with imagination had powers of critical reasoning, and that this was a facet of the imagination. (Since I am paraphrasing, for further reading on this see The Telltale Heart And Other Stories referenced in the bibliography at the end of this essay. The other stories in this collection are full of observations, so that whilst putting this observation about critical reasoning in the mouth of an omniscient creator, POV, Poe performs the very trait he observes, and this is just one example of the imagination as a process.) This suggests that powers of observation are intrinsic to good imaginations because the creative mind sees things that minds that are focused on memorised facts do not.

Having written a few children’s books myself, I have nothing against Peppa Pig. I still enjoy the original Barbapapa characters, and, aged 10, I loved the stereotypical characters in Tintin; the bungling detectives, the mad professor, the drunken sailor, and the educated and well-meaning problem solver with his side-kick, Snowy. It is well known that writing for children is akin to poetry. It is the art of saying much with few words and, often, purely with pictures.

Apart from Kant, the words ‘The Imagination is more important than knowledge’ are attributed to Einstein, who must have known something about the matter since he is well known enough to be called by his surname, whereas Boris is just plain old Boris.

Maybe if we understood the imagination better then we would celebrate it more. Maybe we would have libraries in every town full of the work of local artists of all ages like the art library in Boston where, instead of merely keeping the one painting of a talented art student, never to return it to them, thereby committing the unfortunate double whammy of appearing not to value the feeling that went into producing that painting by the theft of not returning it to its rightful owner (yes this sort of art theft goes on up and down the country in schools, here), Boston art library curate the art and allow other people to borrow the art for reference purposes, thereby giving it value by, instead of hiding it away never to see the light of day, like say The Elgin Marbles, sharing it and allowing it to, perhaps, influence others.

We know that influence is of value since successful people often refer to great teachers as pivotal to their success.

I am sure the art teachers, who perpetuate art theft by forgetting to return art, are well meaning and not art thieves at all; perhaps they are art curators. But who knew this art theft and subduing of the imagination was going on?

Nowadays we choose to dampen down our feelings with mood suppressing drugs like prozac (Fluoxetine), but what if we valued the imagination? The imagination, as Freud observed when studying creative writing, creates meaning out of trauma. I have observed through my own observation, and from practising the art of creative writing for almost 4 decades that it (that is creative writing), is capable of rendering a form of psychoanalysis on the problem the artist is confronted with by taking something apart and putting it back together, rather like the arc of a work of detective, or clue-puzzle fiction, which when done well restores order from chaos, as has already been observed by other writers. This must be linked to what has been documented in children who have witnessed acts of violence in schools who have been observed to act out the episodes as they remember them. Isn’t this too a form of storytelling?

Perhaps thanks is due to Boris for drawing attention to the art of storytelling through the performance of losing your way and appearing to forget, since it is only through disorder that order can be restored.

Bibliography:

Bennett, Andrew, and Royle, Nicholas Introduction to Literature, Criticism and Theory (Pearson Education ltd.,), 2004

Freud, Sigmund, ‘Creative Writers and Daydreaming’ in Pelican Freud Library, Vol 14, trans James Strachey. Harmondsworth: Penguin

Freud, Sigmund, The Interpretation of Dreams trans Joyce Crick (New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press), 1999

Kant, Emmanuel, A Critique of Pure Reason (Kindle edn., 1781)

Poe, Edgar, Allan, The Tell Tale Heart and other stories, (New York, Dover Publications), 2020

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Shortest Tongue Twister?

Instead of “PEGGY BABCOCK”, how about “ Depop Epoch”? for the ahortest tongue twister.

Coffee tastes different?

It is raining today and I am limping towards my self-imposed 400 k target for this month. Low for me, but I like to wind down after the 300 miles I do in September for Cancer Research.

My October stats with Strava

I decided to get to the bottom of what has been happening to my coffee as my taste buds seemed to revive after I had Covid before the pandemic hit here in 2020, although my legs are still affected, and I still have “CovidToes.,” and the coffee was bitter again.

I asked the barrista whether they had changed their coffee, whereupon she admitted that “every three months” they change their coffee. I had no idea. I still didn’t understand where the coffee comes from as I am hard of hearing and the venue is a large warehouse so sound bounces off the walls. I must get a hearing aid. Maybe I will ask again when it is quieter. I am an early riser and usually take my coffee at 7.30 or 8 am, depending on when the opening hours are. Still, I know that my coffee has been different on at least three occasions in the last few weeks here, which suggests someone forgot to use the cheaper coffee.

Today I plumped for the expensive coffee and consoled myself with the thought that it is going to a good cause. In my view it beats all the other coffee shops hands down for staff attentiveness, ambience ( I like the noise), and great tasting coffee, even if you do need to be Sherlock Holmes.

Now to return to my cycling before the rain sets in.

In search of an editorial post

I thought I would blog about my search for a part-time editorial role as I am currently looking for work while writing creatively as a novelist, with a view to finding a suitable agent and would like to use my proofreading skills, rather than lose them.

In the meantime, I shall continue to work in my capacity as associate editor for OPEN: Journal of Arts and Letters; a position I worked towards as an MA student while reading for my MA and working as a Sunday manager for a local charity, and work which I very much enjoy. By the way, we are currently looking for more volunteers so do check out Jeff Streeby on Linkedin if you are interested in Theatre.

Today my search has bought up two editorial posts. One is for Sift and requires an understanding of web content-management systems, which I have gained in my voluntary post, as well as offering 25 days holiday, flexible hybrid working and a good pension plan. The other is for television and requires a 45 hour week and knowledge of Avid Media Composer and DaVinci Resolve. Never heard of those and wonder how one would.

To be a paralegal conveyancing assistant you need, among other things, ‘acting skills’. You also need ‘patience’ and ‘compassion’. Well I have those skills. I found a vacancy for this role too, although you need 2 years conveyancing experience.

I can also take reasonable photographs and have included one with this blog for your delectation since tennis this afternoon did not involve rainbows, but blue skies.

Amazing clouds in Bristol today

Why am I still wearing my mask

I am still wearing my mask to protect vulnerable people. People are still dying. My mummy is still vulnerable. She has had cancer twice, mastectomy, lumpectomy, lymph nodes removed; now she has Barratts disease. I won’t let this define her. She is beautiful. She has the most beautiful smile. Here she is: