Weave a canopy above....

I have been reading Christina Rossetti's poems again. There is one called Winter Rain I love, and one passage in it really resonated with me last  night as I read it.

"Where the kind rain sinks

and sinks,

Green of Spring will follow.

Yet a lapse of weeks

 Buds will burst their

edges,

Strip their wool coats, glue-

coats, streaks,

In the wood and hedges;

Weave a bower of love

For birds to meet each other,

Weave a canopy above

Nest and egg and mother." 

I've just been checking this week to see if the tiny mother finch would come back to nest again in my hedge and there she was! But I will leave her in peace this year. I looked at the photos I took last spring in the bower of my own tightly canopied cotoneaster hedge. I worried over this spot for days, then missed the chance to see the final "flight" when I had to leave the city. When I came back the nest was empty. The finch was a wary little mother but I was able to take one shot of the four eggs and then, later, two very fast shots of the hatchlings, (three survived) so the little chicks asleep are a bit blurred. One is lying on his back sound alseep, the second crushed up beside him also asleep and the third is tucked there on the right with his wing over his sibling. I feel both tenderness and fear when I look at this photo. The nest itself was less than three inches across, so you can imagine how tiny these hatchlings were. Did they fly away? I hope they did.



"But for the fattening rain

We should have no flowers

Never a bud or leaf again

But for soaking showers.

Never a mated bird

In the rocking treetops..."



"That Which Matters" Review

From reviewer Karen Heunemann's blog, "That Which Matters."

http://karynskidlitreviews.wordpress.com/2012/04/28/who-is-frances-rain-1987-by-margaret-buffie/ 

Who Is Frances Rain? by Margaret Buffie

by Karyn Hueneman

What is it about Lizzie? Why, out of all of the marvellous protagonists that YA literature contains, does Lizzie captivate me? Every time I read Who is Frances Rain?—and this is the fourth time—I want to know more of Lizzie’s story: I want to see how her final years of high school progress; I want to know (despite statistics regarding the permanency of high school romances) more about her relationship with Alex; I want to follow her on the rocky road that the next few years will be. For, once again, Margaret Buffie has created a novel in which there are no solid answers in the end, only hope and promise. Her characters are so real, in both their flaws and their strengths that we implicitly trust in the truth of the narrative, and I at least want to travel with the characters for quite a while longer.

The plot of the novel is fairly simple. Lizzie’s dad has left them, which is difficult for the whole family, but especially for her annoying older brother, Evan. Her mother has recently remarried, and Lizzie and Evan both actively reject Tim, the new husband, and his legitimate attempts to both fit in to and help the family. Here, Buffie’s ability at characterization shines, for Lizzie, Evan, and Tim are all presented in honest human terms: no sugar coating to Evan’s rudeness or Lizzie’s self-centred attempts to sabotage Tim’s positive contributions. Eventually, not surprisingly, Tim can take no more and leaves. This is not a spoiler; it is the guaranteed outcome of the narrative situation Buffie constructs so deftly. But while it is the basic premise of the plot, it is also not the central point. Lizzie’s relationships with Tim—and Evan, and her mother—are a vehicle for the novel’s message that family—and indeed community—does not function unless there is communication, understanding, and forgiveness amongst its members. This is a lesson that Lizzie must learn, and she does so not only through her experiences—both contemporary and paranormal—but also through the pointed jibes of those around her who have had quite enough of her selfishness. At one point, Alex, who has been her brother’s summer friend since childhood, tells her: “You’re running a close neck-and-neck race with Evan for pill of the year, I don’t know why I bother with you” (114). Sometimes we need to hear comments like this; they pull us out of our more self-indulgent emotional moments.

While all of the clues to help her develop a more balance perspective on her family and her own role within it are present in her contemporary world, what really feeds Lizzie’s budding empathy is her experience on Rain Island, where she meets the ghost of Frances Rain. Who is Frances Rain? is more than just an interesting approach to the time-slip novel; Lizzie’s experience of the past crosses the borders of believability in a way that most time-slip novels remain pure fantasy. What she learns through helping Frances Rain’s ghost teaches Lizzie a lot about personal strength and responsibility; by helping Frances Rain find peace, she helps herself understand the difference in degree between her own troubles and those of the adults around her.

Who is Frances Rain? has been challenged and banned a number of times, for its inclusion of both the paranormal and an unwed mother. The illegitimate child in Buffie’s book is born in the early years of the twentieth century, but more than suggesting that such happenings belong in the past and our society has improved since then (a trope that was common in the first 6 decades of the twentieth century), Buffie is providing a continuity between women of the past and young women such as Lizzie, who are learning to make their own way in our modern world. The physical and emotional fortitude Frances Rain presents is a strength that both Lizzie and the reader can draw on in their own lives: Frances Rain is a part of Lizzie’s past, and shows Lizzie a way to move forward into her future. Perhaps that is why I want Lizzie’s story to go on: I want to be part of her continuing to grow into the strong, self-sufficient woman who was Frances Rain.

Family Stories: fact or fiction?

All of my novels are about family - and all delve into stories from the past. Even my fantasy trilogy deals with a young woman who comes from an ancient tribe, yet is determined to protect and save her much-loved adopted family.

Family stories come in many different forms. In most families it seems, there is one person who somehow ends up as the "official" Family Keeper of the Past and Collector of Stories. In my family, that's me. I have been an obsessive collector of family history and stories for over 25 years.

Some stories come from the mists of distant times, passed down from generation to generation -- often with a definite whiff of fantasy, or at best, a chunk of wishful "tailoring" attached to them.

I have more than a few of these in my own family.

Here is just one example of that:

It has been passed down, that one of my direct Irish ancestors was a sea captain who ran away with an English heiress - Lady Somebody-or-other. Really, who understands the concept of blarney better than the Irish? God's truth, so it is!

I now know for certain that this side of the family were poor Irish farmers, and later miners and one railway driver in England, so I doubt this story very much. But some members of my family have not given up hope, and really, you never know...

What is interesting is that many of these mist-clouded stories sometimes do have a kernel of truth in them, and it is always interesting (pretty exciting actually) to find that a tiny seed of fact does indeed exist inside that gilded blossom.

Here is an example of just such a story in my family:

Out of wedlock births in the 19th and a good part of the 20th C were shameful secrets and were, almost always, thrust into darkened skeleton-crowded closets never to be opened again.

One day, not long before she died,while we were sorting out old photos, my mother told me there was a secret in her father's family about a "child born out of wedlock," but she had no idea who this child was. She had heard it from a great-aunt while visiting in England. Mom was a bit curious and even had a handwritten note about it - which was very vague. But her father, George told her that his half sister was always overly dramatic and loved making up stories, so she'd dismissed it.

I found the truth behind this secret while I was on the trail of her father's family. I discovered my great-grandfather William (George's father) had married twice. He was a widower with five children (most near their teens) when he remarried. This second marriage was to my great-grandmother Sarah. Sarah and William had one child together - my grandfather, George.

What remained hidden for almost a hundred years was that this tiny, delicate looking English woman had, it turned out, given birth to a child out of wedlock a few years before her marriage to William.

What makes this especially interesting to me, is that it appears that Sarah maintained a definite (physical) connection with her illegitimate child until her death.

This is how I uncovered that part of the story:

I put out a request on many family "same name" websites asking about this child. One day to my surprise, I got an email from a woman who said she thought we might be related. She had little information, but she gave me the name of her grandfather (who had been "adopted") and told me he appeared to have a definite connection to my grandmother and she gave me her maiden name - which did not match the child's surname. She wasn't sure what it all meant. I wasn't sure, either, as Sarah is a common name and so was her surname.

I began a search using his birth name which she gave me, and finally found him in a late 19th C census, living with a couple with another different last name. He was called a "nurse child" - meaning they were taking care of him - for a sum of money. He was exactly the right age and had come from the same area that Sarah had lived. Remember, his last name was not the same as Sarah's maiden name or the  couple who looked after him. Mmm.

This indicated to me, that the child's last name might be the same as her lover's, and she used it because she had a deep affection for him. Was her lover a married man? Was this son really hers? After all, he had a different surname. There was no record of an earlier marriage for Sarah, and the certificate of marriage to William lists her as a spinster. How could I possibly prove the connection between this nurse child and my great-grandmother?

Her son's surname, an unusual one as it happens, matched up with two men living in the same general area where Sarah worked as a housemaid at the time of her pregnancy. In the census records, each man had the same first and last name as her son. One was an old man in a work house (not him!) but the other was a young man - living very close to where Sarah lived as a single woman. He was a farmer's son. If he was her lover, they were in an untenable position, for he was soon to be married. Clearly he didn't have the guts (or the inclination) to do the right thing and marry Sarah, instead.

He married shortly after their "affair" according to my calculations. I found that his and his new bride's bans had been called around the time Sarah was pregnant. He and his wife vanished from their village shortly after their marriage, and I found them living in a small city two counties away. He worked as a town labourer, not a farmer. A few years later, according to the next census, he and his wife and their two children had moved back to the family farm.


Interesting? Yes! But I still had no real proof. However, I do think this fellow is very likely the father of her son -- and I suspect he took off in order to avoid a scandal and came back to the farm when things had cooled down.

From the woman who contacted me, I found out Sarah (with her maiden name confirmed) had probably spent the latter part of her pregnancy in a mental institution as a working "boarder" during her confinement,  and for about two years after her baby was born. I also discovered this "boarding" of unwed mother's in insane asylums was not uncommon. Some are listed simply as "guests" which means they didn't work in the hospital because their family paid their way completely,  while others were working boarders like Sarah. I found out that Sarah's uncle, a tailor of some means, stood up for her at her wedding to my great-grandfather. I suspect he also probably paid her boarding fees.

When he was about two, Sarah gave her child into the care of a childless couple who had once lived very near her own village. They took the child and moved away. Sarah then married William. I had to wonder at the stern looking man (Sarah's husband) -- my great-grandfather -- in the photos we have of him and Sarah. He stands alongside her and his young son. He looks quite formidable. But, clearly, here was a man who allowed his new wife to visit her illegitimate son.

To  confirm that conjecture, one of Sarah's stepsons and my grandfather's half brother, told his daughter that they used to tease Sarah; often telling her she was "going to Coventry" (which had a double meaning for Sarah, I believe). The phrase, "sending one to Coventry" was used to shun or ostracize a person. But, I also discovered in my research that her out-of-wedlock son lived with his caregivers in a village very close to Coventry - hence the double meaning.  No doubt teasing her when she left to see her son was great fun. (Very clever and cruel step-children!!)

The final confirmation that I had the right child came when we were able to find her son's army records, where he lists his mother with my great grandfather's last name. The young man's birth father is listed as "deceased" - another term commonly used for illegitimate children to explain the lack of a father. EUREKA!! I had him!! He was the right child and he was indeed the birth son of Sarah, now married to William! What is also very important and very telling is that the boy knew Sarah's married name - and used it for his army records. 

So what was the "arrangement" between Sarah and her husband William? Had my great-grandfather agreed to allow her to visit her son because he loved her, or because he pitied her? Or was it because he needed someone to look after the five children by his first wife, and this was part of the marriage agreement? I will never know. Past stories never allow for all the facts. But some of the above facts are certain. And that is exciting. I do know that George was much loved by his parents and half-siblings. He often went back to visit them in England after moving to Canada. And I also have a letter that says that one Willian's sons felt sorry for years afterward, because he and the other children had been so unkind to Sarah. I'm glad I have that information.

Chasing down family stories can become an obsession. In this case, ancestors I didn't know - or only had a vague notion of, suddenly came into focus for me. I found photos of my great-grandparents in my mother's papers after she died. These family members had lived their lives a long time ago, but, even now, I feel I am still taking an active part in their history. 

It took me a few years, and a lot of digging to find that little boy who was my grandfather's "other" half-brother. A half-brother I am pretty sure he never met. But finding the lost child, who later had a good life, a good job, and a happy family, answered the secret my mother had presented to me. I wish George had been willing to share this story before he died. But it was his secret to keep.

By finding this lost family member, I found a new and fascinating story for my whole family. And, as I collected more prime documents and more factual information on both sides of my family; including second marriages, more unwed mothers, wills, religious differences, marriage records, village parish records, censuses as well as street and village names that allowed  me to "travel" on Google maps to the very places where my ancestors lived in England, Ireland and Galicia-- they and their past lives truly did come alive. Many still murky or veiled, certainly, but others so clear.

So much still remains elusive. And that is all part of the beauty of it all. The search for stories never ends.

Stories get lost so easily when people don't listen. Don't ask questions. Don't save valuable family papers - or don't write on the back of photos!! (BIG sin for family keepers of photos!). I know people who know little or nothing of their family before their grandparents - and even then they often don't have any idea where their grandparents came from, or if they had brothers of sister, or who their parents were. Think of the stories they are missing!

I recently found that my German family may originally have been Italian - and  as Italian Protestants, fled Italy during the Reformation to the more protestant Rhineland (Germany).

I also discovered that I have a distant cousin who fought in the civil war in the states (his parents came to the USA in the 17th C!)

And I have one line in my British family, that dates back to a large "tree" of Quaker families starting in 1530 (Henry VIII and later, Shakespeare's times!) -all thanks to a diligent family researcher (now in his nineties) who lives in Australia. Two of our multiple great-grandfathers were imprisoned for over five years each - for practicing their forbidden religion. One died in prison.

More stories to really dig into!

I don't expect to find kings, queens, or runaway lord's daughters in these exciting new searches. But you never know. One Buffie researcher now claims we are descended from Charlemagne. Really? impossible!

Cutting words ....

Collins Dictionaries have recently announced they will be cutting certain words from their smaller English dictionaries, because these words are generally seen as obsolete or outdated. But they will remain in their large dictionaries for research purposes etc., until, one assumes, even researchers are not looking for them anymore and they will finally be dropped into the dark waters of oblivion (known as Lethe - from the Greek; a river in Hades that caused forgetfulness in those who drank it.) I'm just showing off something new that I learned.

Recent words cut by Collins are: Succedaneum, supererogate, wittols, aerodromes, and charabanc. I only had a vague notion that a charabanc was a carriage of some kind.

As a writer, I am very aware of words and their meanings. That is ... how I mean to use them and whether or not the reader will understand how I am, in fact, attempting to use them. If a word is put there for effect, but the meaning - and effect - are unclear; and if it sticks out so obviously that it stops a reader's flow, then I have to rethink that word. This is why I get trusted people to read my manuscripts before I send them off.

For instance, take the word facetious. I used it last night in conversation. It fit the bill for me, because the people hearing it understood what I meant.

My daughter said that she used the word facetious recently, too, and her friend seemed puzzled by how she used it. They talked about the word, and her friend thought it simply meant being funny or silly, while my daughter said she thought it referred to someone who was making fun of a serious issue in an inappropriate way.

Quite different if you think about it. Both appear to be right nowadays, as it happens, although most people used it for centuries the way my daughter used it. (Those who actually still use it, I should add!) However, it does beg the question - if you use a word that has two very subtly different meanings (in this case, referring to a form of humour) is it worth using at all? Maybe this is how words die out.

After all, words are communication, so if a number of people do not interpret how you are using a word in conversation the way you intended it to be understood, you may find yourself dropping it as part of your oral vocabulary. Right?  I assume that's how words like freck become obsolete in the English language. (Freck means swiftly or nimbly - and it was cut long ago.) I can't even find freck in my 1927 Oxford Dictionary. Freck doesn't sound very nimble or swift to me, anyway! But I like the sound of it. Maybe we could reuse it...to mean running around like a chicken with its head off. i.e. "I spent the day frecking around trying to find my car keys!" I'm familiar with that, for sure. But I am off topic. Again.

From the bound Cambridge dictionary:

facetious: adjective

/fəˈsiː.ʃəs/ adj - disapproving

Definition:

Not serious about a serious subject, in an attempt to be funny or to appear clever

e.g. facetious remarks

He's just being facetious.


And yet, according to online dictionaries, it appears to also be defined now as: "given to wit and good humor; merry; sportive; jocular; as, a facetious  friend."

It's even hard to find an example that shows how it can be used either way with clarity.

Here's one I found: Facetiousness is allowable when it is the most proper instrument of exposing things apparently base and vile to due contempt. -- Isaac Barrow

But that was back in the 17th Century!

So is this a word that's on the way out? I think it might be.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here's one for the books - at least one book I just read.

Palimpsest

Here's a word I'd never seen before and had no idea what it meant when one of my favourite writers, Penelope Lively, used it in her novel, Judgement. Oh, it has a real meaning all right. Does anyone use this word? Can you even pronounce it? I couldn't help but wonder why she used it at all. For effect? To stop the flow of the sentence so we have to look it up? To keep it alive in the language? Because she likes obscure words? Why??

palimpsest:

noun

1. A manuscript on which two or more successive texts have been written, each one being erased to make room for the next.
A manuscript page from a scroll or book from which the text has been scraped off and which can be used again.

adjective

(of a text) written on a palimpsest
(of a document) used as a palimpsest

Okay. More or less understood. I will never use it unless I am writing a mystery about ancient scrolls and probably not even then. Sure, this word might be used by people involved with manuscripts, but why on earth did Penelope Lively use it in Judgement?

(The main character, Clare, is observing her children coming through the village street on their way home from school)

"Like swimmers nearing shore, they headed blindly for home, eyes down. Clare watched with detachment peeling vegetables.
     She saw behind the palimpsest faces of her children their own previous selves, their infancy, a fleeting succession of Anna and Thomases slipping through her fingers, gone as soon as they had begun."

Now remember I had never seen this word before, and had no idea what it meant at that point. After stopping, and thinking about the entire section, I did understand what she was trying to say, but only because of the further description of it.

The word itself? Nada. I tried to figure it out, and thought... does she mean their faces are pale? Limp? Limpet- like? What does she MEAN?

It stopped the flow of my reading, broke the spell, and the mood of the story for about ten minutes, while I fumbled through my dictionary trying to find it. I suppose most people would let it go, but as a writer I have to wonder what the purpose of using such an obscure word was.

Right after reading it, I kind of got it. Faces scrubbed, scraped clean. Maybe she should have used it after the kids had their bath. Am I being facetious? Not sure now. But it isn't the word, but what the writer is communicating to me, after all, that matters, and if I don't "get it" in the flow of the language, then the communication stops.

I don't want to cut any words from dictionaries. Let me make that clear. It's the dictionary people who are making these decisions, and replacing cut words with "words/phrases" like LOL and FYI. Mmm. Is this a good thing? Maybe for another post? And really, I did have some fun checking out palimpsest. But I'm really having trouble figuring out how to drop it into casual conversation...

Setting up character....

Lizzie - from the cover of Who is Frances Rain?

In the glasses are a young Frances and Lizzie's Gran

When my main character and I mutually agree to record their story, the first thing they ask is to be written up as a real person, not a caricature of themselves - or of someone else.

"Let me tell you my story as it happens," they say. "Here I am, already in my setting, my world, see? I'll introduce you to the other people involved. So grab your laptop, or some pencils and lots of paper, and follow me! Oh, and by the way (this over the shoulder) we'll talk about mistakes you make later." They are always bossy....

And so, like Alice, I do their bidding - wide-eyed and curious about what's about to happen. But I also keep one canny eye on the situation as it develops. I am after all the boss in all this. I don't tell my character that, of course. They are so touchy.

But what triggers a character to show up at all? Is it something I've read? A photo? An event? What is the "kiss" that awakens a character in my head? Sometimes I know right away, because I've been researching something that interests me, and up they pop -- but other times, it can be a photo, an article, a dream, or finding something in an antique store - and it's only later that I figure out what the trigger was. In Who is Frances Rain? Lizzie showed up shortly after I found a pair of old spectacles on an island near our cottage. 

Two posts from Facebook friends made me think about a couple of things regarding character yesterday. One post was about naming your characters, and one was where a colleague said she was about to have "a meeting of minds with her main protagonist." I've had those. It can get ugly.

If you are like me, before I start a story around a character, I have to find out their name. Naming a character is as important as naming your own child. A baby can't tell you - unborn or too small to talk as they are - and, in some cases, you might even be forced to pick a name that someone else likes better than you.

I have found the characters in my novels generally refuse to tell me their name until I figure it out for myself. If a name doesn't fit, and I go with it anyway, my protagonist finds devious ways of letting me know it's wrong, wrong, wrong. When I finally hit the right one, we're both happy. And the character often gets a little smug about it, too.  

As an aside, I find it hard to attach certain names to characters, especially names that are popular at the time. I won't list them here for fear of hurting feelings. But, to me, there are, to my way of thinking, names that seem to diminish a primary character somehow.

I like names with character. I named my first fictional character after my maternal grandmother, Elizabeth, known as Lizzie to all. From what I hear, my granny was a character!

Lizzie agreed, yes, that was indeed her name. I named another main character in the book, Frances, because Frances is an old name, but mainly because it means, "free" and, if you've read the book, you know why I chose it.

I personally think names that are in fashion for awhile, and then vanish (thank goodness) can also "date" a book pretty quickly. Names can say a lot about a character before you even learn what makes them tick. So I avoid names that are connected to fruit, light fixtures, planets, desserts etc; and often those that are not spelled traditionally. I avoid weird spellings of traditional names, like Elizabeth, when they are morphed into atrocities like Elissabith. Seriously. I signed a book for a woman once, "To Elizabeth" only to find out it was Elissabith. She was quite annoyed. As was I...

After saying all this, I do have a lot of odd names in my fantasy trilogy, so really who am I to talk? Names like Cill, Ailla, Leto, Mennow, Jowan, Caul, etc - many of which I made up. But these characters live in fantasy worlds, so anything goes. Besides, I'm the boss, remember....

In the first novel of my fantasy series, The Watcher, Emma's mother has named her two girls Summer and Winter. Winter is my main character. She has pale skin and white hair. She hates her name, because she is constantly teased about it and her looks. So she announces one day that her name - from that day forward - will be Emma. Her mother says, "Are you aware that Emma means "grandmother?"

Emma doesn't care. She just wants to be plain, simple, straightforward Emma. Despite the change, Emma is anything but plain or simple, but she does remain Emma -- and she also remains straightforward throughout the three books. Being Emma gets her through some pretty harrowing adventures trying to beat The Game, once she falls into a number of very strange worlds!

Once the name-game is over, I know other conflicts will come between my characters and me. And the "meetings of minds" meetings grow in number as the pages grow in number.

After a story gets rolling, my characters and I get along pretty well on the whole. But now and again we suddenly take off in different directions, and that's when we go into head to head combat. The character sometimes wins. But it's when they take a seriously wrong turn, like Emma does in her deadly games in The Watcher's Trilogy series, that I know I have to take charge and redirect a story and get my character back on track.

Actually that happens a lot in rewrites. But by then, I am in full control, and I always get the last word. I am the boss after all!

And of course, each of my main characters has a different personality, so I am dealing with a variety of needs and wants - depending on their upbringing and the story. I've been thinking a lot about characters and their development in stories.

After going head to head with a main character recently, I began to wonder about  chickens and eggs (maybe because my character's family has some in their city backyard in 1907) - but there is this strange "which comes first feeling" in a story where characters cause events to happen in their lives, but then, events outside of their control also happen as well - and both of these forms, involving plot, change that character's personality and their needs and wants. Mmm. Something else to muse about ...

As it is, I'm already thinking about some changes in my new mss.

"The quiet silver dark": Badger on the Barge, not just for young readers...

Photo taken of my old copy of Badger on the Barge - hence the warped look! But it's hard to find a copy of this cover even online - and the one I did find was too small.

Badger on the Barge, first published in 1984, is a timeless and riveting collection of stories by British writer Janni Howker. A writer that I feel did not get the attention she should have, after a short flurry of accolades in Britain ended. I often use these stories, which are categorized as writing for younger readers, as one example of the best of writing for any age. Here you will find writing that is layered, rich, and beautiful and stories that are deeply compelling.

Set in the north-west of England, the reader is introduced to a variety of memorable and solitary elderly characters and the young people they profoundly affect. There is the stubborn, rebellious Miss Brady who lives on a barge with a badger named Bad Bill; the reviled and misunderstood shepherd - a German prisoner named Reicker who remained in England after the war; the topiary gardener, Sally Beck, with the amazing past; the reclusive and haunted egg-man; and the old fisherman, Jakey.

Excerpts from the five stories in the collection, Badger on the Barge:

     
From Badger on the Barge:

The boat was long and low, and brightly painted. The hull was black, with green rubbing strakes and a red gunnel. The panels on the cabin sides were painted with roses - four flowers making a diamond shape. A striped red and green pole stuck out of the end. ... Helen saw that some of the paint was peeling and there was a heap of dirty straw on the small semi-circular poop deck.

  ---     

      Everything was quiet on the black water of the canal. The sun hung like a red balloon in the branches of the horse-chestnut tree. Only a swan came sailing, leaving a wake of ripples from under the bridge. It was white on the water, all alone.
     "Here, Cobbler! Here, cob, cob, cob ... Here, Cobbler!" called a grand voice from the barge. "There's a good fellow. There's a grand lad!" It was an old voice. The barge rocked gently as someone moved inside.

 ---

      The old woman's hair was grey and white in streaks, tied back in a bun. Her face was thin and dry as cardboard with deep lines round her nose and mouth. One leg was stretched stiffly in a bandage, her heel resting on a coil of rope. She was wearing a long brown skirt and a tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows. She still held a slice of bread in her hand.
     "Well, close the door."
     Helen pulled it shut with a bang.
     "Shhhh!" hissed Miss Brady.

 ---

      There was a strange smell on the boat, strong and sour. On the floor were two saucers. One was full of milk and the other full of ...Helen looked again. It was full of raw liver and worms.


From Reicker:

     "Seig Heil! Sieg Heil!"
     Arms outstretched in a black-line salute across the sun, mouths wide open, laughing, the two of them stood on the parapet of the bridge as the old man trudged by.
     "Heil Hitler!" Sean yelled, and snapped his elbow stiff again.
     "Here! I thought a German Shepherd was a kind of dog!" Martin shouted.
     "Nazi! Nazi! Nazi!" They stamped the chant until they tumbled off the parapet, grinning like apes, and goose-marched up the hill behind old Reicker.
     He turned on them, shaking his stick. "Go!" he barked. "Go away!"
     "Woof-woof!" Martin barked back.
     "Nazi! Nazi! Nazi!" Legs stiff, kicked up, the black line of their mocking salute, then a smart turn and they scattered back to the bridge whooping. The old man stood skylined on the crest of the moor road, a stick figure, solitary. Then he hurried out of view.

---

With swift black energy the shadows of the clouds began to skim up the fell. The air cooled. The background hum of insects seemed to grow louder until the bracken fizzed with it.

---

      Reicker got to his feet. Sean beside him.
     "Come," Reicker said. "Come, come." it sounded like "kom" the way he said it. He strode off up the deep slope, pointing with his stick. "Here. Up here. An old mine for shelter. Yes."
     It was as if the rain was following a step behind them. It spattered on their shoulders and yet the sunlight and the air lay before them. Just as they saw the gaping hole of an old mine tunnel it caught up and they ran. The raindrops were as hard as hail, stinging and blinding. They lurched into the mouth of the shaft as the fell vanished in the torrent of the storm. The air in the shaft was dank and chilly, ferny and dripping with age.
     Panting they both propped themselves against the rocky sides, as lightening jigged and hopped across the valley, closer and closer, until there was barely a gap for counting the thunder-miles across.
     Blitzkrieg, thought Sean. The word just came into his head. Blitzkrieg. Lightening war.

From The Egg-Man:

     Jane followed the egg-man over to the hedge. He stopped still, staring at something in the black twigs. It was Bridget's red ribbon - the one she had lost the day before.
     "She's always picking flowers from the hedge," he whispered. "Losing her ribbons..." Carefully he untangled it. It lay across his palm as bright as blood. "Bought that ribbon at Whittackers on King Street, to go with her frock ... you know Whittackers on King Street?"
     Jane nodded, but she didn't know at all. It was almost as if the egg-man was talking to himself.
     "Pure China silk. From the Orient, this ribbon."
     Jane stared at him. He was lying about the ribbon! It was Bridget's! But he did not seem to know he was lying. He believed himself.

---

     "From Whittackers, you see. Clothes for the Discerning. This Season's Styles from London ... Only the best for my Nellen."

     "Yes," whispered Jane.
     The silence was like a grey cloud wrapping them both, as he held up the ribbon. The silence was like dust settling, and autumn leaves.

From Jakey:

The river was silent. The marsh was grey and still, and without any sound at all save the lap-lapping of the waves as the tide crept up the muddy creeks.
     Waiting for the boat made Steven lonely. He could hear the silence behind him in the trees of Freeman's Wood. He listened to the silence until he could hear it humming darkly amongst the wet black branches, and he began to be afraid.
     "What if Rosa was lost at sea. What if Jakey could not find his way back in the mist. The darkness was coming on. Soon it would be all about him, and he would be alone in this silent place of marsh and river and silent trees.
     He began to have the prickly feeling he was being watched. He glanced across the river, and his bones jumped under his skin. In the fading light, a small figure stood, still and watchful. It had two heads.


From The Topiary Garden:

The shadows crept together across the lane, until they were not shadows, but a blue darkness. The moon brightened.
      Liz saw the white scut of a rabbit's tail as it hopped across the dewy grass. She held her breath to watch. The stillness over the countryside was like a very distant sound.
      Suddenly the rabbit fled, zig-zagging back to the cover of the wall, startling her. An instant later, she heard the munch of footsteps on the stony lane.
A figure came over the slope, leaning on a stick, with the moon on its hunched shoulder.
      Liz suddenly felt a long way from the caravan. She stayed very still.
     "Evening, lass." It was voice of an old woman carrying through the quiet air.
     "Hello," answered Liz with relief, as the stranger reached her.

     ---

      Liz stared at her. It looked more like an old man who was standing there in the dark lane, thin and stooping and leaning on a stick, because the woman was wearing a long brown coat tied at the waist with a bit of rope, a pair of black wellies, and, on her head, a cloth cap, like the old men in Mill Street wore.

---

(Liz asks where the old woman lives) 

The old woman walked very slowly, with her nose pointing at the ground and her shoulders up round her ears. "Aye. Down there. Yew Tree Cottage. Opposite topiary garden." Her voice was dry and rattling. "Sally Beck's the name."

This is how it is...

I feel exactly the same way when I write. His words resonate strongly with me. It's always exciting and wonderfully puzzling when you write better than you can!

"For a long time now I have tried to write the best I can. Sometimes I have luck and write better than I can."   Ernest Hemingway.

Interpreting my own reality ...

I am a writer, an artist and an amateur photographer. But which one dominates? That's a problem for me. They are all important in my life.

For one thing, all of them also reflect some aspect of where I am in my life.

Here are some of my paintings through the years along with two quotes about art that express how I feel about it.

I've never forced myself to be restricted by a particular "style". That seems so limiting to me.

It is the same with my writing. And my photography. I create each individual piece on its own, and let it tell me how it wants to be interpreted.

Quotes:

The true painter strives to paint what can only be seen through his world. ~André Malraux

The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep. ~Paul Strand

"The Sawhorse"

Oil Wash Mixed Media: Painting by Margaret Buffie

"Arrival at Last":

Water Colour: Painting by Margaret Buffie

"Twin Birch View"

Oil Painting by Margaret Buffie

 

"Self Portrait"

Oil Wash and Mixed Media:

Painting by Margaret Buffie

"Bride"

Oil Painting by Margaret Buffie

"My North Kildonan Garden"

Oil Painting by Margaret Buffie

Penelope Lively - the omniscient writer and memory....

"In life, the nature of a relationship is known only to two people: those at either end of it. All else is idle speculation, however much you and I may pride ourselves on our unerring perception and judgement of the feelings of others. The novelist is another matter; he or she really is omniscient. The relationship now is three-sided; there are the participants and there is also this god-like figure who knows it in its entirety, knows it indeed even better than those involved, who can slip from one skin to the other."

Written by Lively's character, Gilbert Strong in "According to Mark."

"He was very much his own man, gregarious but essentially very private, even solitary. Perhaps this accounts for the peculiarly diverse pictures of him from friends and aquaintances. (Strong wrote...) 'After all, we lie about one another with as much alacrity as we lie about ourselves - lies not of malice but of incompetence. We look at each other square - head on - we seldom trouble to walk around behind and take another view.' "

Lively's Mark (a biographer), speaking to a radio producer about Strong.

I just finished reading According to Mark, puzzling my way through it, knowing immediately this was wonderful writing; highlighting things I couldn't let go of -- and wondering where I was being taken. 

This, like so much of Lively's work, delves into the concepts of reality vs. perception; that is, developing the idea that the memory can be powerful, but also terribly flawed ... that memories have a strong impact on our lives -  not only on those of us who are groping through them in order to make some kind of "whole cloth"  for ourselves - and of ourselves; but  how our memories collide with and influence those around us.

This novel looks at how the past of even the most ordinary person can have a big impact upon the present; how the tensions between personal histories and so-called "official versions" can be destructive; but also, at times, when open to acceptance of impurities, can be very healing.

Much of my own fiction writing is an exploration of the past. And while writing my characters, I get to control them - and their memories - all restrained by the number of pages that make up a novel, which means I am only putting in what I deem important, knowing, as Lively's character Strong also writes, "The characters, presumably, have a whole other life, off the pages of the book."

My own personal memories feel true, but are they? I am sure there are some who think they are often skewed and I have much less control over that. We all know how this feels, dealing with siblings and other family members with different memories of the same events and the same people in those events. Perhaps my own memories of a difficult, confusing, yet at times happy and at times lonely childhood is one of the reasons I write about past lives.

My desire to write about the past, also comes from being a family history researcher and, sadly, involves slaying myths that so many people have built up through "memories" about their families, often from older family members.

I've come to realize that some people hang on to those myths with amazing resiliancy and at times fierce tenacity, despite primary documents from censuses, ships passenger lists, church records of marriages, births and deaths, and other historical facts in "black and white". Sometimes these myths are held close, I think, to allow the person to live in/through other memories not their own, but "memories" that somehow impact in a very vital way on how they see themselves.

The past and our perceptions of it make for a dense, complex and interesting source for writers - and Lively uses it "for all its worth!"

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

Happy St. Patrick's Day on Saturday, March 17th!

Here's to having Irish blood coursing through your veins!

My great-great grandfather Michael McGill was born in County Louth, Ireland...

“We Irish prefer embroideries to plain cloth. To us Irish, memory is a canvas--stretched, primed, and ready for painting on. We love the "story" part of the word "history," and we love it trimmed out with color and drama, ribbons and bows. Listen to our tunes, observe a Celtic scroll: we always decorate our essence.”

-- Frank Delaney

“To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart.”

-- Daniel Patrick Moynihan

"I suggest that the only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little further down our particular path than we have gone ourselves." (E. M. Forster)

E. M. Forster painted by Roger Fry

2013 Young Reader's Award nomination for WINTER SHADOWS

WINTER SHADOWS was just nominated for the 2013 Young Reader’s Choice Award, sponsored by the Pacific Northwest Library Association made up of libraries from Alberta, British Columbia, Idaho, Montana, Washington.

This is a most interesting organization made up of different libraries. In 2009, PNLA celebrated its 100th year. It is "one of the oldest regional library associations in North America and the only one that spans international borders. The history of PNLA is a pioneering story. Started because national conferences were too large and too distance and state associations, at the time, too small or non-existent, PNLA broke up isolation and played a strong and influential role in the development of libraries and library resources in the region."

The Secrets of Agoraphobia

The Girl at the Window - by Winslow Homer

                                       

What is Panic Anxiety Disorder and Agoraphobia?

My book, Angels Turn Their Backs, is about a teenage girl, Addy, who is suffering from panic-anxiety disorder and agoraphobia.

I am very familiar with this emotional illness as I have suffered from it, as have some members of my family. There does seem to be a genetic predisposition to it in some families.

Since I wrote Angels Turn Their Backs,  I have heard from, and talked to, many young people who were - and are suffering from this disorder. So I am writing this blog for those brave young people -  and for those who are trying to understand what this illness is about.

Why am I telling you about my own experience with panic/anxiety and agoraphobia? Because I kept it a secret for a very long time. Because too many who have it, live with it secretly.

It is known as “the panic secret.” 

We don’t keep many physical illnesses a secret anymore, but emotional or mental suffering still has many stigmas attached to it even in 2012. It’s time to end that.

For many years, agoraphobia was described as being a fear of public places.

But, in fact, it is often the off-shoot of anxiety/panic disorder.  Panic/anxiety, leading to agoraphobia, often begins in adolescence and the early teen years, but can occur at any age. I was in my mid-twenties when panic attacks went into full gear for me, but I had always been a very anxious child and teen. More girls/women than boys/men seem to suffer from it.

Often the real underlying causes of this emotional illness become so mixed-up and confused, that all that remains in the person’s mind is the fear of having another panic attack. All they want is for the panic attacks to go away.

Sufferers might tell their parents and a few close family members about these fearful panic attacks, but they usually don’t discuss it with co-workers, school teachers, or most of their friends; generally, because of the shame and embarrassment associated with it  – but  also because mental/emotional illnesses still have social shame attached to them – and some people still  tend to judge those who have this problem in a negative way.

Even when young people tell their parents, or if adults tell their spouses or partners, they don’t always get the understanding and support they need right away. The problem is, often there appears to be “no reason” for the panic attacks to occur. They can begin after certain traumatic events, of course, but just as often, panic attacks seem to come out of nowhere – and the severe anxiety isn’t directed towards anything – it is just THERE.

So if you can’t explain why you are having panic/anxiety to those closest to you, they may dismiss it (in their own worries about you) and claim you just “acting out”; or they may try to convince you that it will go away if you would only ignore it ... or that it is not as serious as you think it is.

Nothing is more disheartening than to try to explain how you feel people to who don’t understand – especially when you, yourself, don’t understand why it is happening to you!

“Pull up your socks” – an old saying that basically means, “Stop whining and get on with it!” can often be the first response of those you confide in. Of course, this only makes the situation more desperate for you.

Most people close to you will eventually “get it” and help you to seek help; still others may be very supportive but yet feel helpless, or perhaps feel a kind of shame, or a belief that no child of theirs is “mentally ill"  - and it may stop some them from seeking medical help for the you for quite a long time. Especially if they can’t afford professional help. But help is there. This illness is very treatable.

If you feel you are not getting help from anyone, talk to your family doctor. Not all doctors are up on this, but you can ask her or him for a referral to a panic/anxiety clinic or a psychologist. Sometimes there are groups who meet to talk about this problem. Keep asking your doctor for some kind of help. If there is a teacher or professional friend you trust, talk to them. They may be able to find you help through school or work related psychologists. Often hospitals have panic/anxiety clinics you can contact as well. There are also some helpful books you can read about it available now. (See below)

What does a panic attack feel like?

The symptoms of a panic attack will often be triggered in a situation where escape is not possible or is difficult. It can be quite subtle. It may occur simply by going into a classroom, or an office at work; or as a simple example, -it may happen at a movie where you are stuffed into the middle row. There are many other other places where you may feel locked in and helpless. A panic attack can even occur just by you anticipating an event like going to school, a concert or a school dance. So often the sufferer stays home to avoid it.

That is the beginning of agoraphobia.

The panic attack you feel with agoraphobia, is like any severe panic attack. The symptom/reactions  may include intense fear, pounding  or racing heart, shaking hands, sweating, dizziness, fear of throwing up, gulping, finding it hard to breathe, a feeling of disorientation, and sometimes diarrhea or nausea. You may also feel as if there is a band tightening around your head.

And to repeat, panic attacks that seem relentless might cause you to avoid certain situations where you feel you could be “locked in” socially.

This can lead to avoiding school, or work, and other social situations  – even shopping or going for a walk alone (in case you faint or run down the street out of control – which will not happen by the way!). And in severe cases, it becomes harder and harder to go anywhere at all.

It is no wonder that agoraphobia and panic disorder can lead to depression, another offshoot of the illness.

It might help and reassure you to know there are many myths that tend to circulate around panic attacks and agoraphobia. It’s VERY important to understand some of these “myths” when learning about this illness.

Myth 1 - Panic attacks can make you go “crazy” and lose control of yourself.


Not true. Be reassured. This will not happen. Even though panic attacks can be very scary, they will NOT make you go crazy. You may have many frightening thoughts and weird physical reactions while it’s happening, but  you must always remember this. You are not crazy – and you are not going crazy. You will not go berserk and embarrass yourself publicly. In fact, most people with this problem actually become more controlled, not less, so that even their intimate friends and family don't even suspect their condition until they are told about it! The physical symptoms you are feeling are a reaction to the fear you are feeling. With help, you can learn to ride through them.


Myth 2 - Panic attacks are a sign of  weakness and a lack of control over your emotions.


Not true. It is not your fault you are having panic attacks. It is an emotional illness and is recognized as such by all mental health professionals. Just the words “mental health” scares people. But mental/emotional illnesses are no different than any other illness. Like diabetes. There is no known cause of panic disorder. It seems that often a series of triggers are involved. But you CAN learn to live with it, control it.Most people do get well again. Once you understand this, it will help you to come to terms with it by learning to recognize that this is an illness that can be helped – once you learn to understand it and control it with guidance from a skilled councillor.


Myth 3 - Panic attacks are destroying you health and body

People with panic attacks believe very strongly that the "attacks" they are experiencing mean that something physically harmful is happening to them.

There are many frightening symptoms that can occur while having a panic attack. As I say above, these can include an accelerated heart rate, trembling, shaking and sweating. Not being able to take a deep breath, called shortness of breath, is also very common. It can sometimes make you feel lightheaded and nauseated. You may get a headache also. None of these things are life-threatening, according to the experts. And I know this to be true from experience.  Many people who have panic attacks are sure that the shortness of breath will make them faint. But it is extremely rare.

Myth 4:  I will never get over the panic attacks. There is no help for panic disorder.

This is a highly treatable illness. With the right treatment, you will be able to learn to control your panic. It is very possible to effectively manage your symptoms through one or more treatment option. But you need to get expert help. However, sometimes just knowing you’re not alone – that many people have this problem - and that you are not going crazy will help a LOT!


Myth 5 - If I use self-medications like alcohol or the illegal drugs, the panic may go away.

This is absolutely not true. This is referred to as “maladaptive” behaviours which can cause many more problems in your life. Things like alcohol may mask the fear for a few hours, but when the effects of the alcohol wear off your panic attacks may come back three-fold. And you’ll need more and more alcohol and then your life and health truly will be threatened. The same goes for illegal  or recreational drugs. Your doctor may give you anti-anxiety medication, just while you are coming to grips with the illness, but eventually many people with panic-anxiety disorder learn to get along without any chemical help at all.

You are not alone. My character Addy realizes this eventually. You will, too. But life is not a fiction story, is it? Life is something that is very tough and frightening at times. But you will get better with the right help. Knowing I was not alone – that others had these same feelings - was a huge help for me. I hope this has helped you understand a bit more what this illness you are suffering from is all about.

You will get you life back!

Angels Turn Their Backs is recommended reading in the book below:

This book is aimed at parents:

REVIEWSSome reviews:"Problems with anxiety can change the life course for many teenage children. Yet good and unbiased information is almost nonexistent. This book is written by two authors who are armed with a wealth of scientific information, extensive experience, and empathic understanding. Dr. Foa and Ms. Andrews provide a vital resource for parents of anxious teenagers. The language is clear and straightforward and the information is accurate and up-to-date. It is a book that every parent with an anxious teenager must have."--Ronald M. Rapee, Ph.D., Director, Macquarie University Anxiety Research Unit, and Author of Helping Your Anxious Child: A Step by Step Guide for Parents


"An essential read, this book is a clear, concise, comprehensive resource for parents of children experiencing problems with anxiety."--Louis Harkins, Founder and Administrator of the OCD and Parenting List


"Easy-to-read, an invaluable resource for parents and professionals alike. This volume can greatly assist parents as well as professionals to more effectively identify and help adolescents who are suffering. I would highly recommend it to parents as well as professional colleagues." --Esther Deblinger, Ph.D., New Jersey CARES Institute, University of Medicine & Dentistry of NJ, School of Osteopathic Medicine


"Each disorder is accompanied by a definition, contributing factors, treatment information, and case studies. Quotes, helpful tips from parents, and sidebars appear throughout the text. This in-depth, logically arranged book also contains an expanded table of contents, a useful appendix, a glossary, and a list of resources. An essential addition to public, middle, and high school libraries."--Library Journal (starred review)

                                                                        and by the

Books for parents and professionals in the Family Resource Center

Behavioral Health Library

Edna B. Foa, Ph.D., and Linda Wasmer Andrews

The Annenberg Foundation Trust at Sunnylands’

Adolescent Mental Health Initiative

Oxford University Press 2006

Here is a book worth looking at just for teens:

KINDLE EDITION
http://www.amazon.com/My-Anxious-Mind-Managing-ebook/dp/B005LVO6CG/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1331136021&sr=1-2

Review

Speaking directly to teens, the authors walk readers through recognizing anxiety and its effects, both physical and mental, then deliver recommended therapies, tools, and resources for overcoming it. First-person, "real-life" vignettes are included in each chapter, which allow teens to relate to situations in a peer-to-peer fashion. This title belongs in every middle and high school library and teen resource collection. --School Library Journal Extra Helping, March 10, 2010

I've just ordered My Anxious Mind and will be reading it soon.


The books above are can be found at Amazon and are also available in regular book form. You can order them from your local bookstores or online.

The one book I relied on as a young adult suffering from panic anxiety was the one written by the wonderful Dr. Claire Weekes, one of the first people to write about how to cope with anxiety and panic disorder.

It was the only book I could find at that time and I was so fortunate to find it in our library. Then I bought it!

You can buy also Claire Weekes books and audio books online at Amazon.

The link for Amazon.ca

http://www.amazon.ca/Hope-Help-Nerves-Claire-Weekes/dp/0451167228/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1331135264&sr=1-1

The link for Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/Hope-Help-Your-Nerves-Signet/dp/0451167228/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1331135358&sr=1-1