|The view from my desk|
sometimes the only other human being I see for weeks on end is the postman. This would drive most people crazy but at least there are no distractions from writing and researching. As mad as it seems, it is Facebook that keeps me sane.
|My Irish Wolfhound substitutes|
|Some of the gang|
There are plenty of places I'd like to visit but I really hate travelling so I tend to keep to the UK. For a number of years I've been trying to get to St Iltydd's church near Brecon which isn't far from me at all but things keep getting in my way and its not very far from here at all.
1483 to hang out with the princes in the tower and find out what really happened to them.
5 - Which of the characters that you've written is your favourite and why?
I think King Harold in my first novel, Peaceweaver, is my favourite. It's hard not to fall in love with your characters sometimes. As the plot drew closer to the Battle of Hastings I grew sadder and sadder. It almost felt as if I'd slaughtered him myself - which I did in a way, I suppose.
There are usually elements of people who have offended me in my nastier characters. it can be quite refreshing. I don't think I've killed any off though, I usually reform them. It's a control thing, in fiction I can turn someone around and make them how I wish they really were.
8 - What was your favourite band/group/singer when you were growing up?
of urban orange in his meadow
where he was part of the landscape.
His eyes the green-brown shade of
cowpats in the splattered byre.
His rough-knit jumper smelled of hay.
His wellies were mired to the knee while
mine, newly released from umbilical string,
He showed me a broody hen on her secret clutch,
a nest of pink-mouthed kittens
that snagged my cardigan with tiny hooked claws.
In the hay barn, where sunlight striped
the dusty dark, the bales were piled to the roof.
There, he became the king of my castle.
He held me, I closed my eyes.
A trail of spittle on my lips and
Afterwards I was allowed only a glimpse
of his dirty neck, the crown of his windblown head.
When his mother’s brood of straw-haired children
surged from the kitchen to hug and kiss
with dirty hands and sticky faces,
I looked for his goodbye but … he was not there.
I felt his lack as, camping gear jolting,
the car nosed along the rutted track.
from the back seat window, I saw him
climbing the meadow gate, his hair a clump of windblown grass.
I have tried contemporary but I am really not at home there. I have no idea what it's like to work in a modern office or even how a mobile phone works. It might seem strange that I can write about Tudor times but not about the here and now but I am so out of touch with modernity I dont think I could pull it off. I could probably do the 1970 -80s with more success but I think I will stick to historical.
My questions for the people I have nominated.
1. When you aren't blogging or writing what do you like to do best?
2. How did you become a writer?
3. Which 11 people from history would you invite to dinner and why?
4. Tell us about your favourite place and what makes it so special.
5. If you were Prime Minister what would you change?
6. What did you do before you had the internet? - if you were born then of course :)
7. What people have influenced you in your life?
8. Can you remember what you wanted to be when you were five years old?
9. If you were a character in a fictional classic, which would you choose to be?
10. Do you prefer wine or spirits, chocolate or cheese?
11. Of all the blog posts you have ever written which is your favourite and why. Put a link to it here.
I nominate these people for The Liebster Award:
Sheila Dalton, Rachael Thomas, Judith Barrow, David Pilling, Helen Spring, Lisa Yarde, Cas Peace, Avis Lexley,
Jean Mead, Anna Belfrage