Saturday 26 January 2013

What a week!

It all started over a week ago, of course, and now only the bones remain to be picked over but it was very entertaining while it lasted. 

First of all there was Lance Armstrong and his sob and tell interview with Oprah. I think, though, that most if not all of the sobbing was done by the viewers.  Here's a guy who is a proven cheat and up to now had refused to admit it, a guy who crushed anyone who mentioned the word "doping" in connection with his prowess, and there he sits, trying to look contrite.  Sure he was in the wrong, he admits, answering "yes" to all those wild and weird names of drugs he'd taken which Oprah read out to him. But what, in the end, did it all mean?  It seems to me that dear old Lance felt that he'd been penalized enough, and hey, what was the harm anyway, and could he now be admitted back into competitive sport, he isn't really such a bad guy?
I have a tip for you, Lance:  winning isn't everything, sweetheart - get a life but if you plan on breaking into Hollywood, stick to farce, it's what you're best at.

Next there was Prince Harry returning from Afghanistan.  He had to pay the price by giving an interview and intimating that he had possibly killed a few Taliban fighters.  Whether this was a smart thing to admit is a moot point - anyone who loses his all at strip poker and gets photographed can't be too media savvy, I feel. 
On the other hand, what did everyone think he was doing in Afghanistan- serving tea at four o'clock in the officers' mess?  Keep calm and carry on, Harry.

And finally, the crowning moment:  Obama's inauguration.  Wasn't that lovely?  A happy ending straight out of a Hollywood tear-jerker!  Isn't it nice to have a glamorous leader in politics?  OK, there are many who argue he hasn't done much, could do more, what-have-you.  But for uplifting, feel-good stuff, it was hard to beat.  I have to hand it to the Americans for their enthusiasm right across the board. If only History were always like this!




Saturday 19 January 2013

What makes me do it?

I finally plucked up enough courage to publish Spate of Violence as an e-book on Amazon Kindle.

It was hard work but a lot of fun writing this novel.  I must have revised it over a dozen times, tweaking a sentence here, adding a sentence there and deleting chunks of it which I thought didn't add to the story.  The good thing about an e-book is that you don't have to make it a certain length.  Nowadays a lot of publishers want what they call "blockbusters" - novels which are around 500 pages long.  eSpate of Violence would be around 220 pages as a printed novel.

So now my baby is out there, taking its first tottering steps in the e-book world.  I hope readers enjoy it because that is one of the reasons I wrote it. Writing what is in your heart is the only way to have fun.  I can't otherwise explain why I sit down every morning after breakfast to work on a novel that certainly won't make me rich or famous.  All I can say is that I get an enormous kick out of inventing a set of people who populate my head as if they were on TV.  I can seem them in my "mind's eye".  I grieve when they grieve and I laugh with them when they're happy.

Here are the links to my book>
USA
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B1B7DVQ
UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00B1B7DVQ

For other countries just go to your Amazon site and add /dp/ and the book number above or simply type in my name Peggie Biessmann or the title Spate of Violence.
You can read the first few chapters to see if you like it (I hope you will).

Here's the cover:

Sunday 13 January 2013

Yes and No

I wonder why it is so hard for us to say "no" when we mean "no"?  How many times have we really meant to refuse a request from an acquaintance only to meekly agree to something we didn't want to do?  Sure I'll do the school run all this week!  Sure I'll take little Billy all day tomorrow while you go shopping - he'll demolish everything in the house he can lay his hands on and I'll just about manage not to belt him one, but yes, of course, no problem.  Sure I'll stay late and finish off the project, I'll just cancel that trip to the cinema I was looking forward to.

There is another side to this, though.  We all know people who, with supreme self-confidence, say "no" to requests or suggestions.  Our feelings are a little hurt by this, I think.  Our enthusiastic :  "Hey, I've just read this great novel, would you like a loan of it? - you'd love it" being met with a "no thanks, not my cup of tea" is a dampener. Or worse still our "I just bought these trousers, what do you think?" being met with an up-and-down look that says it all even if the lips are sealed.  If it's a good friend, we'll most likely accept it.   On the other hand, if it's an acquaintance we feel a bit dashed even if we know we should value that person's honesty (who wants honesty when you can have diplomacy?).

I've tried saying "no" without hurting anyone's feelings but have never really succeeded.  Obviously there are times when I can't fulfill requests,  which lets me off the diplomatic hook.  And on occasion I have been driven by sheer desperation to say "no" but this always makes me feel uncomfortable.  Trouble is, once you start saying "yes" to some people, they take it for granted and dream up more and more things for you to do for them.  The other day, though, I came up with a winner.  I was asked if I'd buy two unwanted tickets to the opera and my reply "actually I'd love to but I'm coming down with the vomiting 'flu" turned out to be the perfect answer.  Illness as a way of escape?  Perhaps. From now on I think I'll make use of Oscar Wilde's character in The Importance of Being Earnest when he says "I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the country whenever I choose."  
It's worth a try.

Sunday 6 January 2013

The Ups and Downs of the Supermarket Aisles

I read recently - can't remember where - that while you are standing in line at the check-out, you can be judged by the items in your basket.  Yikes!  That's food for thought and sorry about the pun.

I learned recently that I'm a dood (don't own or drive), which means when I go shopping I buy in small walk-homeable lots.  That means you are likely to find me standing in front of you with a carton of washing powder and a deodorant stick in my shopping basket or possibly a few kilos of potatoes and a packet of tissues with a magazine thrown in for good measure. Shop light, chase the special offers and carry home as little as possible is my mode de shopping vie.

But that is not what this lifestyle article meant.  For example, if I remember correctly,  a bunch of spring onions in your basket says "I'm going to make a complicated gourmet meal tonight", i.e. I am a hostess of elegant dinner parties.  You are on the right side of the higher income bracket if you turn up at the check-out with San Pellegrino water instead of Tesco's brand - but of course you won't be shopping in Tesco's anyway, now will you?  And apparently there are people who have all their shopping delivered either in M&S or Waitrose carrier bags regardless of where they bought it in order to impress the neighbours.  Personally, if I have to go to that much trouble to keep up with the Joneses I'd be looking for a house swap.

I don't know why I found this all very fascinating except perhaps that I wondered who has the time and interest to inspect people's shopping baskets and then make decisions on their lifestyles based on what they are in the process of buying.  What does it say about me if I buy just one bottle of cidre? Will other more sophisticated shoppers think a) I'm making an extraordinarily tasty stew and have invited some French people to dinner? or b) I can't afford more than one bottle of the stuff?  or c) I'm a secret cider drinker?  None of which assumptions would be correct.  Come to that, what light does a tin of beans cast on my character and lifestyle?  The bigger question is:  do I care?  And the answer is, no I do not care a scrap and I suspect that I belong to a vast number of shoppers who are far more interested in getting their stuff through the check-out and ultimately into the kitchen without sparing a glance or a thought for the bottles of San Pellegrino and spring onions in anyone else's basket.  What a happy thought!