fairyhedgehog

A new word game

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 7 Aug 2024 15:07:00 +0100

Word Grid #68

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Word Grid #68

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wordgrid.clevergoat.com 🐐

Word Grid #137

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Word Grid #157

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Wise words

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 22 Jan 2023 12:42:00 GMT

Wise words from Philippa Perry:

You – and, indeed, all of us – need to know what it is we are feeling. From that, we can work out what it is we want, and after that we need to go for it. It’s OK if we are afraid to, we don’t have to let fear stop us striving for what we want.

The Guardian

Sleazy

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 5 May 2022 22:30:00 +0100

I got this today from the European Movement. I know I've supported the group so it's not completely out of the blue but could it get more spammy? Apparently I am a 'dedicated supporter' (i.e. I've obviously made some sort of donation in the past.) I am so very special that they will let me in on a secret! And I can answer a poll that asks me if I'd donate to reverse Brexit! No manipulation there.

Hi Fairy,

We are about to launch something really big. Our most important campaign yet. And I wanted to talk to you about it.

I am only talking to a small number of our most dedicated supporters about this, and I ask you to keep it to yourself until we launch this campaign officially.

We are at a critical stage in the battle for the soul of our country. If we want to reverse the calamity that is Brexit we need to start taking steps to make this happen right now. It took those behind the referendum result years to achieve Brexit. We cannot wait for it to fall into our laps, we need to fight for it.

But I have to be honest with you Fairy, if we are going to achieve this ambition, we need to have funds to match this ambition.

This is where you come in Fairy. As a previous supporter and donor to our campaigns - I want to hear from you. I have some questions for you about our crowdfunder.

Your input will be invaluable and will help this campaign to be a success, and it will only take just a minute or two to fill in: https://euromove.typeform.com/whatdoyouthink

Thank you so much for taking the time to tell us what you think. The fightback starts now.

All the best,

Anna

My reply:

Dear Ms Bird,

This is a very spammy way to ask for donations.
Frequent use of my first name
Assuring me I am in some way 'special'
Telling me I'm in on a secret
Linking to a 'poll' that asks me if I will give money
Honestly? I'm wondering about leaving the group altogether now.

Yours sincerely,
Fairy Hedgehog (Mrs)

It's hard

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 13 Jan 2022 18:18:00 GMT

I see people meeting up in pubs, in large happy groups, and I do admit to feeling envy. I can't afford to take those kind of risks at my age and with my issues (lungs and CFS/ME) so I won't be indoors with anyone but my household unless I'm wearing an FFP2 mask. Even a normal cold knocks me out for several weeks.

I think that what's happening now is that everyone who is low risk is getting back to normal. Anyone with children is probably exposed to the virus because of the need for their children to be in school, so I can see why they would not see the point of being ultra careful.

Those of us who are higher risk or very vulnerable just have to look after ourselves. It's hard though.

Christmas Magic

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 24 Dec 2021 17:26:00 GMT

“Stop pushing me!” Lissa whispered.

Zack glared at her.

There wasn't a lot of room behind the Christmas tree and Lissa was taking up most of it. Just because she was older than him she thought she could boss him around.

He put his thumb in his mouth, then took it out again to ask, “Do you think he's really gonna come?”

“That's what we're here to find out!”

Lissa was proud of herself. Her Mum and Dad were always going on about not just believing everything you hear, and thinking things through for yourself. When she'd asked her Mum earlier that day, “Is Father Christmas real?” her Mum had asked her, “What do you think?”

Earlier in the week, there had been a big fight at school when her friend Sarah said it was all just a story, and Angie in their class had said, “Of course it isn't. I get presents from him every year,” and Sarah had called her a baby and Angie had hit her and Mrs Gregson had come over and told them both off.

Lissa hadn't joined in. She was going to find out if Santa was real by using the scientific method, which in this case meant putting out a mince pie and a glass of milk and hiding behind the tree and waiting. She hadn't wanted Zack to join in, but keeping anything a secret from him was impossible.

They'd been waiting for ages. Lissa took a chocolate coin off the tree and unwrapped it. She broke the chocolate in half and gave one piece to Zack and ate the other herself.

There was the sudden sound of bells and a flash of white that made them blink. Now floating in front of the hearth was … a fairy? Six inches of glitter and sparkles, wearing a white dress like a ballet dancer's. A scarf of fluffy white feathers fluttered up around her neck and her wings were silver and white. She was the most beautiful thing Lissa had ever seen, but she wasn't Father Christmas.

“You might as well come out of there,” the fairy said, in a surprisingly loud and grumpy voice. “I know you're there and I've come for your help.”

Lissa stepped out from behind the tree and Zack followed. “You're not Father Christmas,” Lissa said accusingly.

“Well spotted that girl,” the fairy said, then as if reciting words she had rehearsed “I have been sent on a mission to recruit--” She stopped. “Look, do you want a magical adventure, Santa Claus, North Pole, save Christmas?” she asked in a more normal tone of voice.

“Yes?” said Lissa, because what else were you supposed to say when you were offered a magical adventure.

“Come on then, we'll need to hold hands. Oh, and you'd better wrap up warm as well.”

The fairy waved her wand over them, brilliant sparkles fell all around and between one blink and the next they were dressed in their warmest clothes. “Honestly, I have to think of everything,” she muttered, then in a louder voice, “Right, grab hands, and here we go.”

This time the sparkles made the whole world go white, and it stayed white even with their eyes open wide. Snow flakes fell softly onto the snowy ground, and the house in front of them was bright with snow.

“Let's get on with it then,” the fairy said. She pushed the front door open, and they all stepped inside.

It was dark, lit only by the flickering of a wood fire. The fairy made an impatient sound, then there was a click, and everything lit up.

“You know I prefer candles,” said the old man who they could now see sitting in the chair in front of them. He wore a white t-shirt and blue stripey boxer shorts and his socks were a plain boring black. He looked like their Dad did when he was getting ready for work and hadn't put his suit on yet. There was a suit – a red one with white fur – draped over the other chair in the room. Father Christmas, because it had to be him, put his head in his hands, his white beard poking out from underneath.

“Well light the bloody candles then,” the fairy said.

“Language, Fae, there are children present,” said Father Christmas.

“Yes, children. They're here to help you on your rounds tonight, so there had better be some rounds for them to help with. Get dressed, we haven't got all night.”

Father Christmas lifted his head wearily. “It's no good, Fae. Nobody believes in me any more so I might as well give up.”

Fae put her hands on her hips. “No one believes, eh?” She turned to the children. “Do you believe in Father Christmas?”

Zack nodded solemnly, his thumb in his mouth. He was still young enough to believe without question in Santa and the Tooth Fairy and that his parents knew everything.

“What about you?” the fairy asked Lissa.

“Well, he's there,” Lissa said. “I mean, I wasn't sure if it was true or not but he's sitting there. But shouldn't he be wearing that,” she pointed to the red suit, “and flying through the sky and everything?”

“That's what I'm trying to tell him,” Fae said. “Come on, Nick, snap out of it. You've got a public to think of now. All those children round the world just waiting for you.”

“Ho blooming ho,” Father Christmas said, but he got up and pulled on his red trousers, and the red jacket with the white fur, and his big, black boots.

“Come on,” he said, “let's get the reindeer hitched up to the sleigh.”

It was a magical night. The sky was clear and the stars were out, so many stars, and a crescent moon. The four reindeer pulled the sleigh through the sky over mountains and fields and towns and lakes, stopping every so often for Father Christmas to land the sleigh on the roof of a house or block of flats and pop down the chimney, coming back up again breathless and smiling. Yes, smiling, because as the night wore on Father Christmas seemed to regain his cheer. His laugh changed from the fake “Ho, ho, ho!” they had first heard, to a genuine chuckle, and then a belly laugh.

“Why doesn't he stop at all the houses?” Lissa asked, “and where are the presents?”

“I'm stopping at houses where they need and want the Spirit of Christmas, and that's the present I'm bringing,” Father Christmas said.

“Will you stop at our house?” Lissa asked.

Father Christmas looked at Zack, whose eyelids were drooping over sleepy eyes. He nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I think it's time.”

The sleigh settled on the roof of Lissa and Zach's house and Father Christmas took them by the hand. Woosh! They were down the chimney and in front of the hearth, which was pretty amazing to Lissa seeing that there was a wood stove filling the fireplace and no way they could have got through it or round it.

A tinkle of bells made her look round at the fairy.

“So, did you get your answer then?” Fae asked.

“I guess so,” Lissa said.

Zach curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, put his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes. Lissa sat on the sofa and tucked up her feet. She was too tired to stay awake any longer. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was a deep throaty laugh from Father Christmas.

“Well, look at you then!” Her Mum's voice woke Lissa from a deep sleep.

“Looks like you stayed up to see Father Christmas,” Lissa's Dad said.

Zack sat up on the mat and rubbed his eyes. “We did see him,” he said.

“Sure you did.” Dad winked at Mum.

“No really, we did!” Lissa said.

“Good for you,” Lissa's Mum said, but Lissa could tell she didn't believe them. Lissa looked round the room but there was nothing to show what had happened.

Next year, Lissa thought. Next year I'm staying up again and I'll make absolutely sure to bring some proof back with me but right now, it was time for waffles, and presents, and later there would be Wallace and Gromit on the TV.

The whole family sat down to Christmas breakfast and didn't even squabble once. Maybe that was its own kind of magic.

Playing Fetch

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 8 Nov 2020 14:49:00 GMT

Today Rufus was sad because I wouldn’t give him two helpings of cat food so to cheer him up we played Fetch.

The game is played like this: Rufus sits on the kitchen table and I toss one of his small, soft balls to him. He bats the ball in any direction other than towards where I am standing and I chase after the ball to retrieve it. Rinse and repeat.

Only dogs chase balls; cats cause balls to be chased.

Influences

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 5 Nov 2020 11:35:00 GMT

Unlike this gorilla, my aliens are shades of gold and orange

I'm writing a story for NaNoWriMo about

a linguist who is enjoying her retirement when the aliens arrive and invite humans to join the Unity, a post-scarcity intergalactic federation. She is one of nearly two hundred people chosen to visit the Unity and see the wonders on offer; wonders that turn out to come at a price. The Unity are relying on the two hundred to make the decision whether to join and Renee needs to choose which matters more, free will or survival.

Someone on Quora suggested that my plot reminds him of Olivia Butler. To my shame, I don't think I've read any of her books. There are a lot of other influences on my story, so I thought I'd share some of the main ones. I can recommend all of them, with the possible exception of the CS Lewis book.

Yes, I know Avatar was mostly about the 3D effects. I'm shallow: I just loved the sheer beauty of the scenery.

The Gate of Ivory

Remnant Population

All Fun and Games Until Somebody Loses an Eye

Arrival

Avatar

Out of the Silent Planet

Torin Kerr Books

Sunstruck, a Bigfoot Mystery

I think it's the first time I've been so unashamed in stealing from my source material, Polenth's Bigfoot book in particular.

Still Mercedes Lackey began her writing career by writing fan fiction, so I'm just going with whatever works.

No ghoulies and ghosties

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 6 Oct 2020 10:09:00 +0100

Autumn is never my favourite time of year but it usually has its high spots.

I have a friend's birthday coming up, then it's Halloween, then it will be November and National Novel Writing Month.

I can't see my friend in person, and Halloween isn't going to happen because I don't want all the neighbourhood children breathing in my face, so that leaves NaNoWriMo.

I have two tiny ideas. Each of them would make a short story.

I have very little motivation but I know that I haven't enjoyed the non Nano years more than the ones where I've challenged myself and managed to get out some sort of a story in the month, so I think I'd like to go for it.

I have twenty-five days to plan enough of a story to carry me through writing 50,000 words. Is it possible? Can I do it?

I really don't know. What will you be doing?

Cycling in lockdown

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 22 May 2020 20:35:00 +0100

So today I went for a short cycle ride with my husband on quiet local roads with plenty of trees and grass. Social distancing wasn't a big problem, we just moved away from the pavement whenever we had to pass a pedestrian, which wasn't often.

We, however, were passed by a hearse. And a house.

Obviously, the wicked witch of the west had been extricated from under the house and was on her way to her final rest.

Truly, we are not in Kansas now.

The Christmas Fairy

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 24 Dec 2019 10:53:00 GMT

Angie hated present shopping. It was a nightmare when you had hardly any money and anything you could afford was totally naff. She decided to have a quick look round the shopping centre, because you never know, but then it was off to the Pound Shop to get something plastic and useless for everyone.

A large heavily decorated Christmas tree took up most of the space in the shopping centre. As she looked up from the ground floor, the angel on the top was just a circle of silver with pink dangling legs. It was probably a Barbie doll or maybe one of her lesser friends. Angie shrugged. Christmas was meant to be so magical but all it meant for her was a crappy toy to open and family rows all day that were even worse than usual.

She wondered if her Dad would come over, but after what happened last year she doubted it.

She took the moving staircase to the next floor. As she drew level with the Christmas tree fairy she could see its magic wand complete with silver star. The wings were softest white swans-down and moved gently in the air. They fluttered as the fairy turned her head with its silver crown, winked, and turned away again. Angie turned to look back at the fairy but by then she was at the top of the escalator and had to jump off quickly.

The top of the tree was out of sight at this level and the down-escalator was the other side of the store. She ran through the crowds of shoppers, drawing angry looks and a "Do you mind?" as she pushed past. Down the escalator, across the store through another mob of people, then back to the tree again. She looked up through its tinsel branches. There was no silver circle, no dangling legs. The fairy had gone. Disbelieving, she rode the up-escalator again but sure enough, the treetop was bare.

Angie shrugged. She must have imagined it. She had wasted all that time and she still had all her presents to buy. They would be a load of tat but she had to get something. She gave a deep sigh. Why was Christmas so miserable?

***

When she got home, Mum was in the living room with her feet propped up on the settee and a fag in her hand. "I've just sat down," she said. "It's egg and chips tonight; the chips are keeping hot in the oven. If you're doing yourself an egg you can do one for me too."

Angie went through into the tiny space that was her bedroom. The high window let in a little light, and there was just room for her bunk bed and her one book- and toy-shelf. Her clothes lived in her Mum's bedroom which wasn't much bigger but took a double bed. It used to belong to Mum and Dad but now he'd moved out. At least that meant that the rows had mostly stopped, except when Nan came over or Mum had a boyfriend staying. The current one, Steve, wasn't too bad. He didn't talk much to Angie except to say, "How was school then?" but he didn't hit her Mum or make her cry, and he didn't make her feel creepy like some of Mum's boyfriends had.

Angie wrapped the presents she had bought: some hair stuff for her Mum, a keyring for Steve, perfume for Nan and a bracelet for Auntie Jean. She liked the bracelet best. It was so sparkly it was a shame to have to give it away.

She thought again about the fairy. If only it had been real. "I could really do with three wishes," she said to herself.

"And you shall have them." The voice sounded faint and high, like bells or birdsong. Angie looked up at the shelf above her and there, perched on top of a Harry Potter book, was the fairy from the shopping centre. She smiled and waved her magic wand sending out silver sparkles that glittered and fell through the air. Then she spoke.

"You can close your mouth.”

Angie felt a small shiver go down her back. “How did you get here?” she asked.

“I flew,” the fairy said. “Now come on, I haven't got all day. What do you want? Oh, and you can't wish for more wishes or any of that crap.”

Angie had not known that fairies said "crap". "Can I wish that there won't be any rows on Christmas Day?" she asked.

"Well, you can." The fairy shook her wand again sending out red sparkles this time. "I wouldn't advise it though."

"Why not?"

"Wishes have side effects. The smaller the wish, the smaller the side effects. Now for a big wish like that, I might have to make you or your Mum seriously ill, whereas if you just wished for fewer rows, I could get your Mum too drunk to start anything, although it wouldn't stop your Nan arguing with your Auntie Jean."

I might have guessed, Angie thought. Fairies turn out to be real and they're no better than the rest of my crappy life.

"What can I wish for then?"

The fairy flew down and settled on the bottom bunk next to Angie. She fluffed out her skirts and looked up with a confidential air on her face. "I can do favourite foods, better presents, and slightly better moods especially if alcohol is involved."

"That's a bit limited."

"Take it or leave it. Or wish for something bigger but you might not like what you get."

Angie sighed. She was used to having to settle for things. "Can we have trifle, and no Brussels sprouts, and a nice present." It would be better than nothing.

"Done!" the fairy said with a smile. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you." She waved the wand sending rainbow sparkles throughout the room. "I'll even throw in a little bit of happiness as a free gift."

"Free gift? But I'm not paying you!" Angie said.

The fairy looked embarrassed. "Ah. About that. All those times you put a tooth under your pillow for the tooth fairy and you didn't get anything back, that was me. Times were hard and I knew you'd blame it on your mother. Now there's been a complaint and the Fairy Counc- Let's just say, I decided to make it up to you. You'll get your wishes. Have a nice day!"

She flew up and out the window, which Angie was sure she'd left closed. All the magic seemed to leave with her and Angie was left with nothing but a heap of badly-wrapped presents and the sound of her mother calling out, "Are you going to do those eggs or not?"

***

Christmas Day dawned bright and cold. Angie was awake and into her Mum's room before she remembered that she was supposed to knock and wait. Mum and Steve were both asleep; he was snoring gently.

"Mum, is it time to get up now?" Angie shook her Mum's shoulder gently.

Her mother stirred and grumbled. "Go back to bed. It's too early."

"I'll make you a cuppa tea, Mum," Angie said hopefully. To her surprise, her mother said, "Oh, all right then. But don't wake Steve. He came in late."

Angie's feet were cold on the kitchen floor and she shivered. She put tea bags into two mugs and added the hot water, leaving the tea to stand just like her Mum liked. Then she carried the tea carefully into her Mum's room.

Her Mum sat up, took the tea, and smiled. "You're a good girl, Angie," she said. "I know it's been hard for you lately but Steve had a bit of a win last week so I think you'll like what you've got from us. Auntie Jean's bringing trifle, too. I know that's your favourite. I think we're going to have a good Christmas this year.”

“What about the sprouts?”

Her Mum laughed. “You and your sprouts! Iceland were out of them so you're let off this time.”

Angie heard a sound she recognised. "Did you hear that, Mum? It sounded like little bells." Or fairy laughter.

"Oh, you! You're always imagining things. I'd have thought you'd be big enough now to know better. Still, it is Christmas. Snuggle under the duvet with me and when we've had our tea, we'll get up and start making the dinner. We've got some cabbage we can have instead of the sprouts."

Angie pulled a face. Still, two out of three wishes wasn't bad. Maybe there would be a bit of magic around this Christmas after all.

I am fine

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 2 Mar 2019 16:41:00 GMT

My only sister died at the beginning of this year.

It was a big shock at the time because she hadn't been ill, but I'm getting over it now.

I'm absolutely fine as long as no one talks to me about death. Or sisters. Or hot tubs, gardens, garden centres, charity shops, carveries, Costa coffee, presents, Alice in Wonderland, decluttering, dogs, chihuahuas, NCIS, hair dye, or Brighton.

As long as I don't catch sight of the weeping pear tree she gave me, or the soap dishes, or the pouffe. Or the wrapping paper I bought for Christmas covered in little dogs.

Have you read Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine? It's a great book.

Eleanor Oliphant is fine and I'm fine too. Absolutely, perfectly, completely fine.

Thank you for asking.

I did it again

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 1 Dec 2018 10:20:00 GMT

Another successful Nano!

Honestly, looking at my record you'd think it was easy and a foregone conclusion that I'd reach 50k but every single time it feels like a huge challenge and in no way certain I'd win.

This time I started with no plot in mind, just "sequel to a previous Nano where the MC ends up with the wrong person. Make sure they end up with the right person this time".

It's easier writing in an existing world because there's a lot you don't have to invent.

It's harder writing in an existing world because you have to remember details you've already invented.

The story didn't end how I'd intended but now I know what I wanted to write.

There's a lot of rubbish in both stories but I reckon I could merge the two into one decent novella-length story if I put my mind to it. The question is, can I get the motivation to work on it without the challenge of Nano? Word count is so easy to measure and there's a real buzz from reaching the right number every day. I'm not sure how to motivate myself now.

All suggestions welcome!

Trans women are women.

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 21 Sep 2018 07:33:00 +0100

Speaking as a cis woman, I want to say firmly that trans women are women.

I admit that it took me a while to understand this and I’ve had to broaden my definition of women a bit to reach that conclusion, but it seems ridiculous to define “women” as “cis women” and then say that trans women aren’t in that group (by definition). We can just as well define “women” as “people who know they are women” and trans women fit right in there.

There is no one “true” definition of a woman , as humans we choose how we categorise the world. It’s a bit like poor old Pluto: first it wasn't a planet, then it was a planet, now it's a dwarf planet, and many scientists think it would be useful to categorise it as something else instead. The lump of rock orbiting the sun hasn't changed but we define it differently according to what is most useful.

It’s most useful to broaden our definition of “women” from “assigned female at birth” to something that embraces everyone who feels themself to be a woman.

Trans women are women.

For me, that is “the truth”.

Is it that time already?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 19 Sep 2018 07:27:00 +0100

Last November I wrote about the "novels" I'd written during Nanowrimo but at the time I was in the middle of my story and didn't know how it was going to go. It turned out to be one that I had a lot of fun with, so I'm adding it to my list of Nano stories.

2017 This Planet Has More Dangerous Wildlife Than Australia
A survey team has vanished from a new planet in mysterious circumstances and the follow-up team face dangers from the indigenous life, including carnivorous trees. The two main alien races are in an uneasy truce and one of them uses only colour and gesture to communicate.

Think octopuses, only on land. I had fun with this one.

Now it's time to think about what I want to write this year. October will go by far too fast!

So far, I've updated my spreadsheet where I keep track of my progress. It's important to get your priorities right.

Happy, happy, joy, joy!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 17 Sep 2018 09:04:00 +0100

I was lying awake the other night with my thoughts whirling, and decided I needed a more positive frame of mind.

I thought back to my counselling days, and how children were being taught the main emotions: anger, disgust, fear, happiness, sadness, and surprise. The only one of those that is really positive is happiness, and that seemed to be selling us a bit short. Surely there must be as many positive emotions as negative ones? I tried thinking of all the positive feelings I could.

Not all of them fit neatly into a single English word but then why should they?

Here are some of the ones I came up with:

happiness
satisfaction
competence
doing something that matters
complete absorption in a task (what's sometimes called "flow")
euphoria
peace
comfort
affection
amusement
hilarity
being among friends
enthusiasm
delight
excitement about something you like
feeling accepted
feeling validated
feeling valued
feeling loved
enjoying cuteness (kittens!)
feeling like you're floating away among the stars and your body doesn't exist any more
mastery
curiosity
the feeling you get when you learn something new
the feeling of a lightbulb moment
the feeling you get when you do something you didn't think you could do

And then I fell asleep.

Which ones did I miss?

I Did It

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 27 Nov 2017 18:50:00 GMT

I finished my Nano “novel” today at just over 50,000 words and typed THE END.

50,000 words of science fiction poured from my fingers onto my screen this month.
The quality is... indescribable but don't mind that, just look at the number of words! So many words!

I have a purple bar and access to a lot of “prizes” that are mostly money off writing tools that I don’t want to use. I suppose I also have bragging rights.

I just feel tired.

Other years I’ve been so happy to make it past the finish line. This year, I’m glad I wrote the story and found out what it was about and how it ended but I’m not sure what to do with it now.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so flat at the end of NaNoWriMo.

And now I've got no excuse for avoiding anything I don't want to do. Maybe I need to do another challenge in December.

NaNoWriMo in All Its Glory

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 16 Nov 2017 10:03:00 GMT

I was asked on Quora about previous Nano novels, and looking back I realised I've had a very chequered Nano career. I’ve got a lot of finished (but mostly unedited) stories and a couple of unfinished ones and the quality really varies.

2004 The Coven.

A group of would-be witches get in over their heads and need help to get one of their own back from an alternate reality.

Mostly very bad, but with odd flashes of “where did that come from?”

2006 Another Way

A quantum computer becomes sentient.

Probably one of my favourites of all my books. It has a lesbian couple as the main protagonists, and two bedroom scenes. Mind you, one is a quarrel and one is a pillow fight, but still.

2007 Missing

A young child goes missing and his sister tries to rescue him with the help of her professor.

Very badly written and unresearched on police procedure. A few nice moments with the kid from his point of view.

2008 Magic Time

Three children go back through a portal into an earlier time.

Unfinished and probably just as well. I think I got 24k words before I ran out of steam.

2009 Space Escape

Something about rescuing sentient animals.

Even looking at the draft I can’t make sense of it. Not one of my better efforts.

2010 The Silver Flute

Claire falls through into an alternate universe where science is masquerading as “magic” and she finds a flute that is the key to opening the doors to other worlds. Will she fall in love and stay in the new world or return to her own? And how?

A very messy book but it’s my favourite because I loved the characters of Claire, the journalist with the temperament of a librarian, and Rhea, the innkeeper she falls in love with. Although it’s technically finished, Claire ends up with the wrong person and I want to rewrite it to the ending I really want.

2011 Timeless

A Mary-Sue character gets abducted by time travellers and after adventures in the future sets up her own rival time travel agency. With a cast including a clapped-out AI, blue and grey humans and an annoying cousin.

An OK story. As usual some fun parts and some less so.

2012 Saving Space Through Tessellation

When Sylvie's father is kidnapped from a secure science lab, her life is in danger as much as his. Can she escape from the confines of her school with the help of her two friends and rescue her father, who is being held on another planet in another galaxy?

Includes a man in a crocheted chicken suit and a random penguin. (It was just after Random House and Penguin merged. I really thought they should have chosen the name “Random Penguin”.)

It’s a bit of a schoolgirl romp and I had fun with it. It's also my favourite of all my titles.

2014 Marked

When Amy inherits a country cottage from her Gran she also inherits a mysterious book which turns out to be cursed. In trying to remove the curse, Amy sets free a demon who places his mark on her. Can she get rid of the mark before she succumbs to its power and becomes possessed by the demon?

Unfinished at 28k because I took the book in a direction that didn’t work. Not one I want to go back to.

2015 Twisted

Em's difficult home life makes her an obvious target for anyone looking for disaffected youngsters. A shady group who claim to be exploring a distant planet recognise her potential and enlist her for her science background. But what is really going in with the Asimov Foundation?

I don’t remember much about this one which is a bad sign!

One year I tried editing instead of writing. That didn’t go well. Some years I just didn’t write at all.

This year I won't know how well it's gone until afterwards. At the moment I'm putting off writing my story by blogging instead. At least I've written every day so far, except for a pre-arranged day off. Tomorrow is another day off. I ought to get onto my story now and stop playing online.

The Worst Story

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 7 Nov 2017 07:45:00 GMT

This is how I'm keeping track of my word count. I've got two days when I know I won't be able to write so I'm trying to get ahead as much as I can.

I'm already at the stage of using up a lot of my preplanned plot, and feeling that this has to be the worst story ever.

My aliens look like large blobs of jelly, with many eyes on stalks around the top which are in constant movement. They have complete rotational symmetry so they have no front or back; they have tentacles round their middles and stumpy legs. They can’t hear and they communicate by flashing coloured patterns over their skin.

I also have another set of aliens that look like Wookies, and the ones that look like crickets but are the size of a large poodle. The latter are companion animals to the Wookies, sort of.

It all seemed so logical at the time.

Day three of Nano

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 3 Nov 2017 15:23:00 GMT

I've had three reminders to donate to Nano so far, so that averages one a day.

It was the constant demands for money that made me give up after 2015 and not write at all last year. This year I don't know if I'll donate because my main support is on Quora and Ravelry and not on the Nano forums which are well-nigh unusable.

I love the creativity of Nano but it's a pity that it's being turned into a mostly fund-raising event.

Nevertheless, I now have over 7,000 words written. It's been a tough one today. I wrote before checking any social media using mostly ideas I'd planned out over the last month and some I came up with on my bike ride yesterday.

Then I went out for a cycle ride hoping to come up with some more ideas but today that just didn't happen.

I'm going to be running out of preplanned ideas soon. I wonder what I'll do then.

Am I even a writer?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 31 Oct 2017 10:51:00 GMT

I usually call myself an “amateur writer” because otherwise I think people will assume that I plan to make money by writing. Nope. It’s a hobby.

Strange, because I don’t call myself an “amateur crocheter” even though I don’t plan to make money from it. I’m pretty good at crocheting - clearly not an amateur!

I’m not an amateur pedestrian, driver, or cyclist either; I’m just any one of those three at any time.

I wonder when “writer” got to mean “someone who makes a living at writing”. Or maybe it didn’t and it’s just me.

It's that time again

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 29 Oct 2017 09:06:00 GMT

The clocks went back today and the evenings will be dark now. We're getting into firework season and the cats will have to be kept in early. Xmas approaches and I've already missed overseas posting dates.

Only three days left to NaNoWriMo

Last year I ignored it and the year before I tried editing instead of writing. I didn't feel I gained much by either strategy. So this year I will again attempt to write a 50k word story in a month. Go me!

I have characters, a world, and some sort of shambolic plot. I also have aliens, lots of lovely aliens. I mean what's not to like?

I've looked back over past efforts and I liked bits of what I'd written. I have a particular fondness for the scene with the chicken suit and the random penguin.

I will never be a professional author because I'm not willing to put in the time and discipline needed but writing is my hobby and it's the chance to really get into it once a year.

I haven't made it to 50k every year I've tried so it remains a real challenge, and this month I'm starting a new volunteer job with Beanstalk, as well as having a lot of family commitments.

No one ever said it would be easy. Wish me luck!

The Fall

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 6 Oct 2017 07:30:00 +0100

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.”

Not here. Not now.

The wind whips leaves from the trees
In showers of red, orange, yellow.
They carpet the ground with softness, damp and yielding underfoot.

Horse chestnut trees scatter their spiky husks,
And here is a conker:
Round shiny treasure like polished mahogany
Sitting abandoned on the soggy leaves
But not for long.
Children will take it to its new home.

Now the rain comes
Sideways in the buffeting wind.
Head, neck, trousers cold and colder
As we run for home.

Later we look out through rain-flooded windows
Hot tea in hand
At the October storm that is stripping the trees
Naked.

What else will fall?

Autumn is not a gentle season
In England
Now.

I just keep levelling up!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 30 Sep 2016 17:53:00 +0100

It might not look like much, but that little device takes sound direct from my phone or laptop, increases all the bits that I need louder, and puts it straight into my hearing aids by bluetooth!

In effect, it turns my hearing aids into headphones. Which is fantastic! Because normal headphones just aren't compatible with hearing aids.

I can watch YouTube, even if there is someone else in the room not wanting to watch it too!

I can't wait to ring up all my friends to see how the phone part works. The gizmo needs three hours charging before first use. Three hours is an awful long time.

How much to pay for bionic hearing?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 10 Jun 2016 09:26:00 +0100

I realised half-way through that I've written this post for myself, to help me sort out my thoughts, so please feel free to ignore it! Although if you have any thoughts I'd be very happy to hear them.

My hearing aids just aren't good enough and the NHS can't do any better for me, apparently.

My hearing is good for deep sounds but drops sharply for higher pitched sounds, especially in my right ear which suffered a disastrous hearing loss five years ago. The sample audiogram above gives you some idea, the differences between that and my own audiogram are that I have normal hearing in both ears up to 1,000 Hz, and that my right ear drops off more precipitously than on this graph.

The area between 2,000 - 4,000 Hz is the most important for understanding speech and this is the area where I have a rapid drop in hearing.

Digital hearing aids work by dividing the sound into chunks and turning them up individually. The level of fine tuning possible depends on the number of these chunks (called "channels"). A single channel would turn everything up and down; two channels would give you bass and treble.

Eight channels, which is what I have, gives you some ability to turn up the higher sounds selectively but the channels work across the whole frequency range, including the sounds that I don't need to be enhanced at all, so the fine tuning for speech isn't particularly fine. That means that I have to have some sounds too quiet because their neighbouring sounds would be too loud if that channel was turned up any more.

Sounds that you can barely hear take longer for your brain to process by about a second. This means you need people to speak more slowly. There are so many situations where I'm struggling.

on the phone
with children
with any background noise
anyone not facing me
anyone on my right side
most tv programs
can't wear headphones

The speaker for my aids is behind the ear, and the sounds travels by tube to my ear. This isn't great for feedback. It means that I can't have my right hearing aid as loud as I need even without the complications of the different channels. Private hearing aids can have the speaker in the ear.

I am looking at private hearing aids with 12, 16, and 20 channels. They are expensive. I mean really, very expensive. Like, six or seven bicycles, or a couple of foreign holidays.

The problem is that you're not just paying for a fantastic piece of kit but you're also paying for the service you get over the next three or four years. Which is bloody good service, I have to say, if the initial consultation is anything to go by.

The dearest aids cost 30% more than the cheaper ones. (Not the cheapest. They don't have enough channels to make a real difference to me.) I'm not sure how to decide what level I need.

At least I get over 60 days to try them out and if they don't help I can return them. I'd like to think I wouldn't need to. It would be so nice to hear properly again.

The Sphinx: a flash fiction morsel

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 25 May 2016 17:36:00 +0100

You are standing on a vast sandy plain that extends in all directions. In front of you is a Sphinx on a stone pedestal. The Sphinx has huge claws and a smug smile on its face. It is looking directly at you.

You can not go East. You can not go West. You can not go South.

North is the Sphinx.

You approach the Sphinx.

"None shall pass," says the Sphinx.

"Hang on," you say. "I thought you were supposed to ask me a riddle and let me pass?"

The Sphinx sighs. "No one ever gets my riddles and I've got indigestion from the last traveller. Go away."

"That's not fair," you say. "Ask me the riddle and let me pass."

"What's brown and sticky," the Sphinx says.

"A stick," you reply.

"Wrong, it's toffee," the Sphinx says.

"How was I supposed to know that?" you say.

"You weren't. Come closer and let me eat you."

You are carrying:

a ball of wool

a bar of soap

a bar of chocolate

three cherries

a cloak

You use the ball of wool on the Sphinx. Nothing happens.

You use the bar of soap on the Sphinx. Nothing happens.

You use the bar of chocolate on the Sphinx. The Sphinx reaches out to take the chocolate but you pull back at the last moment.

"If I give you this bar of chocolate, will you let me pass?"

"What sort is it?"

"Hotel Chocolat 82% Ecuador single estate."

"Give it to me and you can pass."

You hand the chocolate to the Sphinx.

You go North.

The Sphinx speaks without looking up from the chocolate. "On your way back, bring us some antacid, will you? This is going to wreak havoc with my digestion."

Don't Ban the Hobbits!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 4 Mar 2016 08:30:00 GMT

Yesterday a friend of mine was thrown out of a pub. Not for being drunk and disorderly, or for starting a fight, or for peeing into a pot plant instead of the loo. No, he was slung out for having bare feet.

That hit a nerve so I started looking for a campaign for people to be able to wear whatever they like and found that Amazon Fashion is running one, or so it says. "Wear whatever you want" it proclaims, as long as it's stylish. Does anyone else see the contradiction right there?

There are so many unnecessary rules about what clothes are acceptable and where, starting but not finishing with our feet.

I wear men's wide leather trainers to keep the irritable nerve in my foot for acting up. In many schools trainers are banned. Mine are black and well-polished so I can get away with them under trousers if no one looks too hard but I really don't see what it matters to anyone what I have on my feet.

Not wearing a bra is also unacceptable, if you're a woman that is. Even young girls just coming into puberty have to wear "training bras" which suggests to me that many women wouldn't wear them unless they were "trained" to do so. Men with "man boobs" are exempt, because the rules are inherently sexist.

They're not just sexist against women. Men are expected to wear suits and a tie to an office job, although the tie seems to be more optional these days. Could my husband wear a skirt to work? I think HR would have a quiet word with him if his boss didn't get to him first. There are many places where a man wearing a dress or skirt risks insults at best and injury at worst.

I just don't understand why. Why can't we all wear whatever we want and leave other people's clothing choices to them?

A bit of fun

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 5 Jan 2016 10:44:00 GMT

I read recently that keeping a picture journal can be good for your mood so I thought I'd give it a go. Anything to add a bit of colour when the days are dark and gloomy. I've got some felt tips and I thought I'd just write and doodle as the mood takes me, without worrying too much about what it turns out like; after all, with felt tips there's no rubbing out.

So far, I have "mud, mud, inglorious mud", followed the next day by "Ouch, ouch, ouchies" to remind me of the bike ride that convinced me that mountain bikes are evil. I've also got the tribute to the weather that you can see here.

It's a bit of a change from "write three things that went well every day" and I don't think I'll update it every day. It's just a bit of fun.

I'm done

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 29 Nov 2015 08:55:00 GMT

I completed the Nano challenge and I'm now the proud owner of 50,000 words that I wrote myself. Plus 2,500 words of out takes that I haven't counted in the final score.

This year crystallised for me how I need to work when I'm writing a longer story. I don't do well with tightly planning the whole story in advance, but I need an overall idea of what kind of story I'm writing, who it's about, and where it's going to end up. Then I think through the first section until I know what happens and write that down. At that point I have scenes in my mind's eye and I just need to get them down in words.

Whenever I complete that section, I need to stop the scene-writing and spend some time thinking and working out the next section. Some of my thinking I do when walking, cycling, or showering. Some of it I do by writing out the next part of the story in non-scene form. Planning, you might call it. I've never thought of myself as a planner but I think that's because I've assumed I knew what planning looked like and this wasn't it. Well, now I know.

Can I do it without the impetus of the Nano challenge? I really don't know but I'm going to have to find out. Because Nano is no longer what I need.

I didn't go to any meetups this year, the first year since 2006 when I haven't. I met up with some fantastic friends from past Nano years, but these weren't official meetups and most of the others have moved beyond Nano now. I don't get much use out of the Nano forums because they really aren't user-friendly; I use my own spreadsheet which keeps track of my words with better visuals than the Nano site; and Nano has changed almost beyond recognition since I first joined.

It used to be about the excitement of the challenge, now it's about being an educational charity that supports young people's writing. I don't think I got a single communication from Nano this year that didn't include begging for money. Even the winner's congratulation message includes a request to become a monthly donor.

So, Nano and I are done. It's been a great ten years. I've learned a lot and had lots of fun. Now it's time to step out on my own. I just don't know where the motivation is going to come from.

Week Three Blues

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 16 Nov 2015 10:00:00 GMT

It's week 3 of Nano. How did the time go so quickly? And I'm at the usual point of wanting to give up and go fishing instead. I've never tried fishing and I think I'd hate it but could it be any worse than writing my novel? I don't think so.

For the real deal on just how bad Nano gets, I've got permission to quote from a friend. You can see the original here https://ello.co/marienbad or here http://nanowrimo.org/participants/parallax but in case you can't get into those, here is the text that marienbad/parallax has written:

The 4 Weeks of NanoWrimo

The week before: Ooh, so excited, but filled with trepidation - Can I/Will I be able to do this, will I make 50K. Gosh, this is daunting, I really shouldn't have signed up for this... No, wait, yes I should - I want to be a writer and this is my chance to have a shot a writing something long form. Ooh, so excited...

Week 1 - ooh so excited, here we go... writes 1667 words a day - oh my gosh this is amazing, the words are flooding out of me, and these characters seem to have taken on a life of their own. Every day is bringing new scenes and ideas, I love my story.

Week 2 - wtf? where did my writing ability go? I can just about make 1667 some days and man even that's a struggle. And my story is full of holes, everything is cliche and rubbish, my characters are always grinning/smirking/smiling - why? This isn't going to work, I'm never gonna make 50K.

Week 3 - jeez Louise, this is the suckiest first-draft in history. I know they are meant to be shitty but this is in a league of its own. Yeah I got a bunch of plot bunnies but they all seem to lead the story in the wrong way, not where I want it to go. I am hacking out 500 words a day sometimes and it's like pulling teeth without anaesthetic! I am never going to win Nano, I wish I had never started this now. God, I hate myself and want to die!

Week 4 - wait, what's happening? The sun has arisen, and I can see the light. All those plot bunnies have enabled me to build a decent backstory, my characters seem to have come back to life, and I am easily getting over 1667 words per day. The finish line is in sight, only 12K left to write, and I can do that now, come on fingers, type faster, keep up with my brain for crying out loud...

End of Week 4 - woo hooo !! I did it - 52,091 words! But wait, the word counter here gives a different figure than my Word Processor - Oh man, now I've got another 2K to write to win...hacks out 3.5K of crap just in case - validates woo hoo - I've won - only just, 50, 051 words, but it's enough. woo hoo, I've won Nano! Fantastic. breaks down and cries.

Week 5 - what, where's everyone gone? Man, I'm missing Nano already, I feel so down, I wish this went on all year. And what am I going to do with all that novel I wrote? I feel so blue, what now? Oh I know, maybe I can edit... looks at manuscript - jeez, Louise, what a pile of crap, it's so bad it's not worth editing!

My only caveat is that at the end I always think, "But it's just so long I could never edit it!"

But that's moot, because it's not written yet, so back to the coalface.

Windows 10 - Finding System Restore

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 12 Nov 2015 08:21:00 GMT

The latest update of Windows 10 left me without a working keyboard. I couldn't find System Restore and needed the help of a Dell technician using remote control of my laptop to take my system back to before the update.

In case it happens again, I want to set down the steps needed to get into System Restore without using Search. (Because obviously search won't work without a keyboard!)

1. Right click on the Windows icon in the Start bar, click Control Panel.
2. On the drop down menu beside View By click to choose Small Icons (upper right part of the screen).
3. Click Recovery (icons are in alphabetical order).
4. You can now choose System Recovery as the second of three items.

Of course, next time it will probably be the mouse that goes. I should really look up the keyboard shortcuts to System Restore just in case.

Edited to Add:

To get to System Restore using only the keyboard:

Windows key + X
Arrow keys to select Control Panel, Enter
R key to select Restore, Enter
Tab key (several presses needed) to select System Restore, Enter

Money, money, money

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 10 Nov 2015 10:00:00 GMT

I have such mixed feelings about NaNoWriMo. It's helping me write a story that might otherwise never have surfaced but it comes with so many demands for money, money, and more money. Recently it was "Double Up Donation Day" which generated five different private messages asking for money: before, during and after the magic day.

I posted about it to the feedback and suggestions forum and this is what I got:

Me: I would like fewer donation requests.

I always donate at the beginning of November to say thank you for the website. Repeated follow-up requests for more money are annoying.

Moderator: The donation requests go out en masse, and not everyone can donate at the start of the month--they may be on a fortnightly or monthly pay schedule, they may want to wait until they've written x amount of words, and so on. You're not the only one getting more than one request! I donated in October, plus I'm an ML, and I still get requests. I just delete 'em and move on.

Me: I didn't assume I was the only one. I was just giving feedback in case anyone is interested that I find the number of donation requests is too high and I find it annoying.

If Wikipedia asks for a donation, they also check if they are asking too often and are annoying. I assumed it might be the same here.

Mod: Well, it was just Donation Day, so I assume the higher volume of requests was due to that.

I feel so much better now. I nearly posted that but I doubt if the sarcasm would be recognised.

So I shall stay with the Nano groups on my favourite website, which is Ravelry, and just use the Nano site for updating my word count. Somehow the Ravelry owners manage a huge website* that is easy to use and very intuitive and their requested donation is only $5 a year. Plus the only time you see the option to donate is if you want to upload images directly to the forums and not through your project pages.

It seems like such a wasted opportunity when forum mods and owners ignore genuine feedback.

* 5,711,874 registered users, 989,706 Ravelers were active during the last 30 days (up to 10/11/15). In 2014 Nano had 325,142 participants

Llama llama red pajama

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 4 Nov 2015 17:01:00 GMT

Today I did story time at the local library for the first time. It's half an hour of reading aloud to 3+ year olds and I loved it.

I was expecting to just listen this week and see how it's done but the librarian said to pick some books and we'd take it in turns, then it got to starting time and she wasn't there so I just went for it. When she saw I was enjoying myself she left me to it!

Next week I need to get there a bit earlier so I can check out the books. It's much easier to show a picture book while reading the text if you've already read it, but I was busking it because it's a very long time since I've read to children that age!

So far so good

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 2 Nov 2015 13:40:00 GMT

I'm up to 4000 words on my Nanonovel. It's not great literature. It may not even be readable. But I'm having fun with it!

The door opened and Jenny took in Em's face and gave her a huge hug. Em had the familiar feeling of coming home she always had in Jenny's presence and she felt the tears start at her eyes again.

"Oh look at you," Jenny said. "What have you been up to now?"

"I got myself thrown out over a boy and we didn't even do it," Em said.

Jenny laughed. "Trust you. Come on in. Mum's out but she said you can stay as long as you need to. Alfie won't be using his room till he comes back in the summer, so you can have his bed if we change the sheets."

Em let out a huge breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "So I won't be needing to put on my fishnet tights and hang around outside King's Cross Station," she said.

"What?" Jenny did a double take and then laughed. "You and your old-fashioned ideas. I don't know where they come from."

"They're not old-fashioned. It might be the oldest profession but I'm sure it's still around."

Jenny shook her head but she was smiling. "Let's get this bed made up and you can tell me how you managed to get thrown out of your house for not having sex with a boy."

"I didn't say that. We didn't do IT but.. it's complicated."

"So you can fill me in on all the gory details."

It was a mixed blessing having a friend that you could say anything to except the one thing you really wanted to say.

How Can It Be November?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 1 Nov 2015 17:11:00 GMT

So, yesterday was Halloween and we had the usual hordes of kids coming to get their sugar rush. We're a detached house with a wide drive; we had all the outside lights on, tealights flickering in a pumpkin holder, a banner, and a big sign saying "Trick or Treaters Welcome". I like giving out sweets to all and sundry but this year a lot of them had masks so we don't know who came and it's entirely possible that some of them came twice!

We shut up shop at seven thirty because the sweets had pretty much run out and we were going on to a Halloween Disco in aid of Canine Rescue. I was worried we'd come back to some tricks as we'd had to leave the porch light on but luckily the local kids are mostly pretty wonderful and we were OK.

So after leaping up and down for a couple of hours answering the door, followed by a heavy evening of dancing to Monster Mash and Spirit in the Sky it was hard to settle down and get a good night's sleep and today is the start of Nano.

I had a minor panic when I realised that my lesbian main character seems to have slept with a boy in the first chapter, but I think I've got it covered. It's actually a space story, or meant to be, but my poor MC is a long way from getting into space yet.

It's times like this I wish I'd done more planning and less playing with my Excel spread sheet but I expect I'll get through the month. I hope so anyway. It's never a foregone conclusion and that's what makes it a challenge.

What makes a book unreadable?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 11 Sep 2015 18:24:00 +0100

This is a hard sci fi book about a lost space yacht. Stephen King calls the author "The logical heir to Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke" and the book was nominated for a Nebula award. For a sci fi lover like me what's not to like?

And indeed this book did transport me back to the old days of sci fi that I grew up with. Unfortunately, as well as being full of excitement, adventure, and hard science, those were the days when sexism was the norm and women were mostly for decoration or a prize.

Here are a couple of excerpts so you can judge for yourself.

Ten minutes later, the Sentinel's captain appeared, Eddie Korby, young, quiet, studious. Look at him and you thought he was timid. The last person in the world you'd think would be piloting a starship. But he always had an attractive woman on his arm. Sometimes two or three.

And a bit later on, of a character working in ground control:

He'd been trying to coax Talia into his bed for the better part of a year. That night he broke through. Afterward, he concluded that the business with the Polaris [the missing space craft] had, in some way, been responsible. It's an ill wind ... he thought.

I imagine there are other examples because I've only reached page 16. I will never know, because I really can't bring myself to read any further. It was the "he broke through" comment that finished it for me.

I'm so glad there are plenty of other books around now where sexism just isn't an issue. It reminds me how far most of us have come.

I wonder what makes a book unreadable for you.

Rafting for beginners

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 27 Aug 2015 08:40:00 +0100

We signed up for white water rafting because of a persuasive young lady at the campsite welcoming drink. I was a bit nervous despite her frequent assurances that "c'est pas difficile" then I googled a bit and felt even more nervous when I read "it's a good workout for the upper body". Eek! What had we got ourselves into? My upper body probably needs a workout but I don't think I'm up for it! I was ready to call it off but we decided as we'd paid we'd at least go along and see.

When we got there it wasn't exactly reassuring. The facilities were basic with nowhere to buy food just a picnic area and a place to get soft drinks and ices. Other people seemed to know what to do and when but we never did get the briefing promised by the woman at reception so we had to keep asking for directions and help.

The wet suit was wet. The life jacket was too big and so was the helmet. At least the wetboots fit OK, although they were wet and clammy too.

Then there was the bus to take us the 5km up the river. It was old and tatty with stuffing coming out of the seat backs, it had no seat belts, and it went too fast. I just went into child mode: someone else is in charge and I hope to god they know what they're doing.

When we got to the start point and got told who our guide was, I explained to him that Neil doesn't speak much French and I'm mostly deaf without my hearing aids which I'd removed because I daren't get them wet. "Ca commence bien (that's a good start)" he said but at least he was smiling.

It all changed once we got into the raft. The guide laid out the rules about hanging onto your paddle for dear life, and trying not to fall in. One of the rules is that if the guide yells "Pizza!" you all have to fling yourselves into the middle of the raft with your paddle straight up in the air! It's a good position for when you bump into a rock, and guaranteed to break the ice at parties.

Paddling was much easier than I'd expected, except for trying not to hit the paddle of the person in front. The river carries you down whether you paddle or not and the small rapids are exciting but not terrifying. No one in our group fell in, although we got splashed by another group which I admit I hated. Given that we were already wet and going to get wetter I'm not sure what my problem was.

We saw insects and birds and stopped to pick wildflowers. There were two places where the river opened out and the guide invited us to get in and swim if we wanted to. I chickened out the first time and no one from our boat got in but by the time we got to the second place I was so full of adrenaline that I was the first one into the water. Oh my word it was cold! So very cold! But it was the most fun I've had in ages.

I'd come a long way since my initial fears and it felt really good. We're going again next week.

Gratuitious Cat Photos

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 9 Jul 2015 09:57:00 +0100

Rufus was a happy cat, kneading away at the double thickness blanket that stops his sharp edges from making his cat-slave shriek.

Then his cat-slave said "Bedtime" and had the cheek to push him off her! This was a shame and a disgrace.

Luckily he has a short memory and by the next day all was forgiven. Or was that dead bird he brought in a subtle way of getting his revenge?

Schrödinger's Dishwasher

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 16 Apr 2015 08:38:00 +0100

I am a sad wraith of my former self. My shoulders droop, my legs tremble, and my hands are red and raw.

For the last three weeks I have had to wash up.

I know, first world problems and all that. Thank the gods it's not the washing machine.

Well actually the washing machine did break down and it wasn't covered by guarantee, so we had to buy a new one. Ordered on Saturday, delivered on Monday. By Monday evening I had racks of clean clothes drying. But I digress.

The dishwasher was covered by warranty. Domestic & General, I am not happy with you. It's now three weeks since you wrote off our dishwasher and promised us a new one. It's on its way! Look out world, we'll soon be piling up cups and plates again with sheer abandon knowing we can just shove them in the dishwasher and they'll come out sparkling clean!

That was the theory. In practice, there are two groups of people involved: the suppliers and fitters who work for D&G. The suppliers tell us that the new machine is with the fitters. The fitters tell us it hasn't arrived yet from the suppliers. It's in limbo. Does it even exist? Perhaps we shouldn't collapse the waveform and find out in case we get the wrong answer.

Meanwhile I stand forlornly at the kitchen sink, scrubbing away at piles of plates. A Cinderella in my own home. Don't you feel sorry for me?

Exciting Eclipse

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 20 Mar 2015 10:40:00 GMT

There was a partial eclipse here today and I was all ready to look at it with my pinhole camera, aka two pieces of paper one of them with a hole in it. I didn't get the chance to use it because of the cloud cover but there was other excitement instead!

It was just getting really dark outside when there was a terrible loud noise like a hundred rain sticks all being used at once. I rushed to investigate what it was and in the kitchen I found heaps of rice all over the draining board and the side, with a few grains still trickling down.

Rufus had tried to climb up to his high place on top of one of the cupboards but someone had stored a large bag of rice there. (This was a deliberate ploy to stop him from hiding on top of a cupboard that is far too near the kettle for our liking.) Efficient use of his claws led to a rain of rice, or more like a monsoon of rice, all over the kitchen side and draining board and floor. Thank you, Rufus.

With a cat in the house, life is never boring.

We shall not see his like again...

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 13 Mar 2015 09:57:00 GMT

Sir Terry Pratchett 1948 - 2015

I've read all his books, many of them several times. I was at a local library where he spoke about his life and work, maybe twenty years ago now. He signed a book for me. He was very engaging.

When my father died at age 62, Pratchett's books were one of the things that helped me to get through. I knew his take on Death was pure wish fulfilment but I needed some of that at the time, together with his willingness to even talk about death when too many people found the subject uncomfortable and shied away from it. You can't avoid thinking about it when someone you love dies.

It seems strange that he didn't even know I existed and yet I have a real sense of personal loss at his death. The world is a poorer place for his passing.

Crochet Party

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 3 Mar 2015 17:05:00 GMT

March is International Crochet Month and Ravelry is celebrating with a party. There's a Scavenger Hunt and a Mystery Crochet A Long and lots of other fun and games. Maybe I'll see you over there.

One challenge is to "write your name in crochet" and I got as far as "fairy" and gave up. In my defence, I'm still getting over the flu. It's the first year I've had flu in a long time and after nearly three weeks of being ill in bed I can't say I recommend it.

I feel like I want to wish you all "Live long and prosper!" but that seems almost too poignant right now.

I'm Not A Robot

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 9 Feb 2015 07:00:00 GMT

Sometimes Blogger gets the message. Sometimes it doesn't recognise me and I have to type in words to prove my humanity. Who knew that one day we'd all be proving we're not AIs by copy typing nonsense letters that appear on a screen? I always thought a Turing test would be more interesting than that.

Every time it happens on this blog I want to scream.

Blogger is supposed to recognise me so as to not count my page hits, and
It shouldn't be asking anyone to verify they're not a robot, because I've turned word verification off.

Has anyone got any ideas as to how to get rid of it?

Could you read this book?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 6 Feb 2015 19:04:00 GMT

It's not as easy as it seems. The book will only open if you approach it with a neutral face. It won't open if you're looking sceptical - or even if you're excited! That's me done for then.

I'm not entirely sure that I can see a use for it except as an idea for a science fiction story. Now that would be something I'd really like to read!

You can't say that!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 4 Feb 2015 07:02:00 GMT

I've joined a book club. It's only small at the moment: three or four of us meeting in a pub. It's local though and it's nice to meet other people to talk about books.

This month we read How to Build a Girl by Caitlin Moran and it was a challenging read. Not that the book is hard or literary, or even very long. The trouble is, it's all about sex and as I read I kept thinking "We can't talk about this at book club!"

If you go to amazon, you can read the beginning for free. It starts like this:

I am lying in bed next to my brother Lupin.
He is six years old. He is asleep.
I am fourteen. I am not asleep. I am masturbating.

The whole time I was reading I kept thinking, "how can we talk about this?" And yet it was actually quite easy in the end.

I started by saying how I'd felt about reading it and we all had a good laugh. And then we talked about how honest Caitlin is in her depiction of what it's like to be a young girl, and how refreshing to read about a young girl who is so keen on sex, and about how she invents and reinvents herself, and what we liked and what we didn't.

It brought back lots of memories of my own childhood as I found myself looking for similarities and differences. One thing it brought home to me is that I wouldn't want to write a book like that. Not because of what other people might think but because I don't want to look back on my growing years with that crystal clarity and tell it as it really was, even if I was the only person in the world to ever read it.

Slightly Stunned

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 2 Feb 2015 17:29:00 GMT

Rufus has just got back from the vet after having the wire removed which was keeping his broken jaw in place. He had it removed under anaesthetic, so he's still a bit woozy.

For the last six weeks he's been unable to go outside. For five of those weeks he's been almost unbearable. He should be able to go out again on Wednesday, so fingers crossed.

Going Backwards

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 20 Nov 2014 09:03:00 GMT

I am the proud owner of 23,000 words of original writing. (Well, not very original writing but I wrote it all myself!) That makes me 10,000 words behind my goal for today.

Yesterday I cut 7,000 words from my story. It was going in the wrong direction and I wasn't liking it. I could see where I'd taken a wrong turning, so I went back to that point and put the 7k words that came next into an "out takes" document. That was less painful than screwing them up and putting them in the bin.

I need to write 2,500 words a day now if I want to get to 50k by the end of November. I don't think I'm going to make it, but at least what I'll have written will be something I'll like. Or I can hope so anyway.

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 9 Nov 2014 10:05:00 GMT

Yesterday I went skating at Somerset House with My Beloved, then we took Boris Bikes to Tate Britain and saw the Late Turner Exhibition.

There's something about seeing famous paintings in real life that you just can't beat. Some of them seem less wonderful (I'm thinking of Manet here). Most of them are more impressive. I loved the picture of a ship in a snow storm and yet the reproduction here really doesn't do it justice.

POV

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 7 Nov 2014 14:08:00 GMT

I'm eleven thousand words into NaNoWriMo and only a few hundred words behind. Which is just as well seeing that tomorrow we're going up to London to skate at Somerset House and then visit the Turner Exhibition at Tate Britain.

I started out writing in third person but after only a few paragraphs I changed to first. I can see where it happened. There was some dialogue which included the character saying "I", and after that it was "I" all the way! So I nipped back and changed the first few paragraphs to match.

It's Nano. If I'm going to write fifty thousand words this month I have to go with whatever works!

I didn't mean to

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 3 Nov 2014 08:48:00 GMT

I wasn't going to do NaNoWriMo this year. When a friend posted on Facebook on November 2nd about being unprepared, I found myself in the same situation. I had no plot, no characters and no ideas. All I had was a blank spreadsheet ready for me to put in my daily word count.

But somehow my friend's post spurred me on and I wrote 2,000 words. I did the same again today. Suddenly I've got a story happening and I have no idea where it's going. It's quite exciting to see what's appearing on the screen.

I don't think I've ever tackled Nano with less preparation and I didn't think it could be done. I'm still not entirely sure but I think I might be doing Nano after all.

The Second Sex Readalong

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 29 Sep 2014 10:51:00 +0100

I went on a yarn crawl at the weekend and met another crocheter that I really clicked with. So I stalked him online (well, I looked at his profile on Ravelry anyway) and found his blog and he's doing a readalong of Le Deuxième Sexe by Simone de Beauvoir.

I'm planning to join in if my blood pressure will let me. I'm going to be putting some of my thoughts in a new blog so as not to overwhelm this one, and I'll also be commenting on Tom's blog; so if you want to see where I'm up to you can do it on my blog or on his.

You might even want to join in.

What's wrong with personality tests?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 29 Sep 2014 08:10:00 +0100

The Myers/Briggs personality test is suddenly popular again on FaceBook and it made me think about what bothers me about those sorts of test.

I hate dividing people up into categories. At least Myers Briggs gives you 16 and not just the either/or of extrovert/introvert. But still.
It's easy to write a single personality description that nearly everyone will see as applying to them, especially if it's nice and general. I think this is because we mostly remember the bits that apply and ignore those that don't. Tests that do this are meaningless.
The worst personality tests divide the world up into bits and then force you into a mould - everyone fits into one or the other personality type by definition. This tells you more about the author of the test than about you.
The best personality tests ask you questions, then take your answers and feed them back to you in paraphrased format. So you're getting back what you put in and it feels eerily accurate but it's not actually telling you anything you didn't know. Except that the author's underlying beliefs about how to divide up the world usually end up shining through anyway.

But I have to admit that personality tests can be fun. I think I prefer the ones with colours, or elves, or "which Sherlock villain are you?" because at least they don't take themselves seriously.

Warning: Doctor Who Spoilers

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 25 Aug 2014 13:33:00 +0100

Here's what I thought of the latest episode (aired on 23rd August 2014).

I really prefer sci fi to horror, and this was definitely horror. It wasn't a children's story, either.

A sad, lonely, female dinosaur is horribly killed in flames
Someone is mugged and his eyes removed
A balloon carrying the Doctor is made of human skin
The Doctor mugs a tramp (although he thinks better of it and gives up his watch)
The Doctor may or may not have pushed a robot to his death

It was too slow and repetitive. How many times do we need to be told

That Madame Vastra and Jenny are married?
That this Doctor is really the same as the old Doctor?
That this Doctor is very, very old (although younger than the first Doctor)?
That this Doctor is not Clara's boyfriend?

Plus the "Did he fall or was he pushed?" was laboured. I got it the first time.

But there were some humorous moments, and bits of it were fun. Capaldi is brilliant and given half a chance will make a wonderful Doctor. I hope he's given that chance.

Happy Midsummer with a free book!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 21 Jun 2014 10:43:00 +0100

Happy Midsummer's Day everyone! And a freebie:

I've just finished reading the Touchstone trilogy and loved it. Book One is free for the Kindle, so although this is only the first third of the story it gives you the chance to decide if it's worth spending the £5.92 to read the whole story. (Hint: it is.)

Cass walks through a wormhole and finds herself in another world, one which is similar to Earth in many ways but with disturbing differences. She has to find a way to survive long enough to find a way home.

It's hard to do justice to this story because it's huge in scope, with so many interesting characters and settings. Luckily book one has a glossary! I was completely engrossed in this other world and felt like I was living with Cass through the events she describes. Some reviewers have complained that the story is slow in parts but I enjoyed the rest periods when things were going well for Cass. Given that the whole of the first third of the story is free, you get a real chance to decide if it's for you.

Happy reading or whatever else you're doing today!

Cats

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 6 Jun 2014 12:38:00 +0100

Here is Rufus auditioning unsuccessfully for the role of Ceiling Cat.

(This is Ceiling Cat.)

Here is Rufus playing Hide and Seek.

It's quite a shock when you're on your own in the kitchen making yourself a quiet cup of tea and there is suddenly a noise above your head and there's a cat staring down at you. But cats sleep wherever they want to.

This is Bonnie. At least she is civilised.

Story Competition

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 2 Jun 2014 13:15:00 +0100

Can you write a story about time travel in less than two weeks? Would you like an amazon gift voucher? Then you need to go to Indie Writers Monthly Blogspot for details of their competition.

The competition closes on 15th June. Good luck if you go in for it!

Just another Manic Monday?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 27 May 2014 09:15:00 +0100

Bank Holiday Monday in England surpassed itself. Whirlochre wrote about the "Torrential Rain Fest of Biblical Proportions" and he was right. My Beloved and I went to Surrey County Show and the mud reached the top of my thighs. (Splattered up to there, I mean. We weren't actually swimming in the stuff although a bit more rain and that might have been an option.)

While I was in the portaloo a set of dentures flew under the partition to land in the mud at my feet. This came as a bit of a surprise as it was the first time that had happened to me. I called out, "I'm a bit busy at the moment but I'll pick them up for you as soon as I can." The woman who'd lost them was grateful to get them back; she admitted that a muddy portaloo was perhaps not the best place to try to dislodge a tomato pip from under her top plate. She was rinsing them under the tap when I left but I didn't stay to see what she did with them next. I had the feeling that I really didn't want to know.

Web Designers Start Here

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 18 Apr 2014 19:32:00 +0100

According to my extensive research on the T-Mobile website, these are the rules for web design:

Do not under any circumstances provide obvious links
Any coloured text must NOT be a link
Pictures must NOT be used as links
Hide all links in menus that only appear when clicked
Make menus as unobtrusive as possible (bonus points if no users at all are able to find them)
Insist that your users contact your help service for any and all details rather than allowing them to browse for themselves online
Make it pretty

Any rules that you would want to add?

Dressing Up?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 16 Apr 2014 06:56:00 +0100

You go Eddie!

I can so relate to this because when I was a girl trousers were really meant for men. I wore ski pants and had short hair and so I got called "son" occasionally. Girls were really meant to wear dresses and have long hair, which I quite liked some of the time but dresses are rubbish for climbing trees.

And now women can wear trousers but men are not supposed to wear skirts. Unless they're kilts. The logic of this is, well actually there is no logic in it.

The article where I found this talks about "non-cisgendered men" wearing dresses but I don't see why anyone has to be labelled according to the clothes they sometimes like to wear. When I was a girl I didn't want to wear trousers because I wanted to be a man, I wore trousers (and still do) because I like trousers. In the same way, why on earth can't men wear skirts and dresses and sparklies without being labelled? Maybe they just like them. Sometimes I like wearing them too.

A Guide to Devon Dialect Terms for Cyclists

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 15 Apr 2014 07:00:00 +0100

My Beloved and I went to Devon last weekend and took our bikes; we were aiming to cycle parts of the Tarka Trail and we also cycled along by Woolacombe Bay. It's absolutely beautiful there but if you're on a bike you need to watch out for the local dialect when asking advice on where to cycle.

It's flat. Translation: various ups and downs but nothing a novice cyclist can't manage with a bit of effort.
There's a slight incline but nothing to worry about. Translation: it's a hill. Demanding cycling but you won't need to get off and push. Probably.
It's not far, just up the hill. Translation: get your pitons out. Mountain goats would be proud to manage this ascent.

Oh, and the phrase "a country mile"? We reckon that comes from Devon too.

Sunstruck

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 8 Apr 2014 09:43:00 +0100

Polenth has published a book that I really enjoyed. It's a paranormal story, a cop buddy story, and a mystery story all rolled into one but somehow she's made it more than any of those. She's taken the legend of Bigfoot (which I would never have guessed could be interesting) and created a culture for them that that I found intriguing and convincing. It read to me like good science fiction where we see ourselves through the eyes (and in this case nose) of an alien, although in this case it's a terrestrial alien.

I liked the really quirky characters a lot and I enjoyed the exchanges between Ari (the Bigfoot) and her OCD human partner Ben. There is a plot but for me this was the least important aspect of the book. I just thoroughly enjoyed stepping into Ari and Ben's world and I can't wait for the next book to come out so I can join them there again. I think you might like it too.

Hey, that's mine!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 6 Apr 2014 09:34:00 +0100

This newly finished shawl was just set out to dry after a wash to soften it up when Rufus decided to come and groom himself on it. After all, the ground was wet and muddy out and he needed somewhere clean where he could get the dirt off his paws.

Did I say it was a shawl? That was what Sarah, who wrote the pattern, called it but she was wrong. Clearly it's a cat blanket. Rufus has decreed it!

Now We Are 60

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 4 Apr 2014 19:31:00 +0100

I started the day with a bran tub* from my sister. Anyone else remember bran tubs? It smelt heavenly as I dived into it.

This is how we started the party. I'd decided to go for the subtle look.

Sadly, Neil didn't get the chance to play during the party. The guitars were authentic decor though - I seem to remember a guitar in every student bedroom when I was young!

Here is my lovely friend Alex. You can see she got my memo about being subtle.

The music started and we were off! I haven't had so much fun dancing in years.

My sons. The best-looking young men in the world. No, I'm not at all biased. I'm surprised you'd even ask!

I don't know why I was looking at his feet.

Some dear friends with my daughter-in-law

And here are both lovely daughters-in-law, with a friend and my older son.

Some mad friends who write a novel every November. Yes, I do too. No, I don't know why.

The end of the party and still fresh as a daisy. Ish.

If you want to hear some of the music we danced to there's a playlist on YouTube.

*(In Britain) a tub containing bran** in which small wrapped gifts are hidden, used at parties, fairs, etc.
** except that the "bran" was always sawdust.

Books For Boys And Girls

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 14 Mar 2014 09:54:00 GMT

People pressurising bookshops to stop labelling books as "for girls" or "for boys" just don't understand: gendered children's books are easier to sell than non-gendered ones.

So that's all right then.

Teaser

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 28 Feb 2014 07:03:00 GMT

You might remember some very good advice Simon Kewin gave a while back about writing. Well, today he's revealing the cover for his fantasy novel Hedge Witch which will be published later this year.

Simon has published a lot of excellent short, flash, and twitter fiction and had a novel Engn published by December House. Hedge Witch was accepted by a traditional publisher who was then so dilatory in getting the book out there that Simon has taken it back into his own hands.

Fifteen year-old Cait Weerd has no idea she's being sought by the undain: sorcerous creatures that feed off the spirit of the living. She doesn't know they need her blood to survive. She doesn't even know she's a witch, descended from a long line of witches. Cait Weerd doesn't know a lot, really, but all that's about to change.

At Manchester Central Library she's caught up in sudden violence. In the chaos she's given an old book that's been hidden there. Given it and told to run. Hide the book or destroy it. The book contains all the secrets of the undains' existence. They and their human servants want to find it as much as they want to find her.

Cait learns the fates of two worlds are at stake. Just what she needs. Along with definitely-not-a-boyfriend Danny, she has to decide what the hell to do. Run, fight or hope it all goes away.

It's only then she learns who she really is, along with the terrible truth of what the undain have been doing in our world all this time...

It sounds like something I really want to read. I can't wait for it to come out. Here are the links for finding out more:

Facebook | Goodreads | Blog

Everybody Naked?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 26 Feb 2014 21:38:00 GMT

As a follow-up to my recent post Let's All Get Naked!, it seems that French booksellers decided to do just that to protest against the attempted censorship of the children's book Tous A Poil.

Good for them!

I'm sorry, Avatar!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 25 Feb 2014 12:50:00 GMT

I loved the film Avatar but I thought that it was rather spoilt by the choice of the name "unobtainium" for the mineral that was so precious to Earth but perhaps I was being rather hard on the film makers because did you know that element #118 in the periodic table has been given the (temporary) name "ununoctium"? That's not a million miles away from unobtainium, is it, so maybe I should let the film directors off the hook.

As to how I found out about ununoctium, well I came across these wonderful chopping boards on BoingBoing and you can customise the final element which just happens to be ununoctium. If P&P from the US was less exorbitant I'd be very tempted.

Let's all get naked!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 15 Feb 2014 08:47:00 GMT

Actually, let's not all get naked here in England while the cold winds blow and the flood waters rise. In France, though, in summer on the beach it sounds like a fun idea.

A charming French book for children called Tous à Poil, which translates as "Everyone (gets) Naked", is causing rather a stir because it shows people doing just that. Its drawings of naked bodies aren't like the photos you see everywhere that are so heavily airbrushed and photoshopped that everyone looks like a Barbie doll. Instead they show children a more realistic picture of what people look like under their clothes and that sounds like a good idea to me.

Interestingly, since politicians have denounced it on French tv, sales have rocketed. Nice work, French MPs!

Would I take it in to work? (At an after-school club for primary age children.) Probably not. I'd be too worried about the reaction from teachers and parents, which is a shame. Would I read it to my grandchildren (if I had any)? Almost certainly yes. What about you?

To Friends and Friendship!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 14 Feb 2014 07:30:00 GMT

It's Valentine's Day.

Every year I try to reclaim the day for friends and friendship, as opposed to "make single people unhappy day" or "sell more greetings cards day".

I've made some amazing friends online. Some I've met in meatspace, some I've not met there yet, and some I will never meet face-to-face because they are sadly deceased.

If you're reading this, then you're a friend and I'm very glad to know you.

Houdini Cat

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 12 Feb 2014 08:09:00 GMT

Last night I left Rufus safely asleep on his cat tree in the kitchen. The door to the conservatory was locked and the door to the rest of the house was closed. The only way out was through a cat flap into the locked garage, where the cat flap that leads to the outside world was firmly shut. There was no way out.

This morning, when I opened the kitchen door Rufus had gone. There was no cat yelling accusingly, telling me that he hadn't been fed for hours and that the service in this place is terrible you just can't get the staff these days. He didn't even come when I offered food. He'd vanished.

I checked the cat flap: still firmly shut. I checked on top of cupboards, inside the cupboards, all the (very many) cat hiding places in the junk in the garage. Still no Rufus. Panicking now, I woke my daughter-in-law to see if she had let the cat out overnight. No, she hadn't. I had visions of Ru lying injured in some inaccessible place after trying one spectacular leap too many off a cupboard.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw an orange shape moving past the kitchen window catflapwards. Rufus had been out for a stroll and was now gracing us with his presence.

Rufus back from his travels

I still have no explanation for how he could escape from a locked room.

Rufus displaying his usual skill at opening the cat flap when it's NOT locked: 42 attempts before he can get it open

Do you think we should put him on the stage and charge admission?

Canada Poking Fun

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 7 Feb 2014 12:54:00 GMT

When the text came up I snorted with laughter.

Google has got into the act as well, although rather more subtly. Apparently the rainbow background is meant to support gay sports people and has nothing to do with Noah's ark.

I just hope that Russia rethinks its anti-gay stance in the light of all this media attention.

Sexy Lady

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 6 Feb 2014 09:44:00 GMT

If you like this comic there are more at Scandinavia and the World

I've just heard about Anything That Loves, which is a comic book that's just come out about being bi. I was surprised to realise that it's not just straight people who can be anti-bi, apparently gay people (who I'd have thought would know what it's like to suffer from other people's prejudice) can be firmly anti-bi too. It seems that we like to divide the world neatly into pairs of categories and if you don't fit one then you must fit the other. But reality is more complicated than that.

I do wish people wouldn't try to put us all into boxes. The only thing that should be in a box is a cat and that's because they like to be there.

Fun With Science

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 3 Feb 2014 12:41:00 GMT

Just a couple of pictures that I thought were worth sharing.

And finally, I love this avatar used by one of the talented people on Ravelry. It took me a few moments to get it the first time I saw it*.

*If you don't get it, try googling for the scientific symbol for Potassium. Hint: it isn't P.

Reading With A Vengeance

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 1 Feb 2014 08:45:00 GMT

I found an interesting blog that comments on books chapter by chapter and the posts on Fifty Shades of Grey are keeping me amused.

Ana tells us for the third time this chapter that Grey is, in fact, still sleeping. Riveting. I kind of wish I could join him, because at least then we’d both be unconscious.

I did try reading Fifty Shades but to me it reads like really bad fan-fiction. Strange that.

Customer Service FTW!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 23 Jan 2014 13:56:00 GMT

Dear John Lewis,

Thank you so much for my new television. It's everything I'd hoped for and more - oh, sorry, wait. You didn't make it you just delivered it. Well, thank you for delivering it. Eventually.

I know your delivery drivers are very busy, so getting a phone call at 8.20pm to say they wouldn't be delivering by 9pm was fine. We'd only been waiting since 2pm with the furniture all out of place to make their job easier when they arrived, so no worries there. I was very happy to be given a reason for the delay and "unforeseen circumstances" really clarified things for me. And of course I had the phone call from customer services to look forward to.

Which didn't actually happen, but hey! You're busy people! I understand that. So my three or four (or was it five?) phone calls to find out when our set would be delivered were obviously necessary. And you did give me another delivery date, four days after the first one. Result!

It would have been nice to get the set within the time you specified but the men did come to pick up our old one on time. Punctual or what! And it was only a few hours later that they actually managed to arrive with the telly we were waiting for. How cool is that!

So it's all good and of course an apology is not needed which is just as well really seeing as how we didn't get one.*

Looking on your FaceBook page for the last few months you seem to have a lot of angry people whose deliveries were not on time and who were fobbed off by customer services. All I can say is, what a grumpy lot. Why would anyone expect to get their goods on the day they were promised just because they'd already paid for them?

Sadly we won't be buying anything from you again unless we can pick it up and bring it home ourselves but no hard feelings, eh?

Respectfully,

Fairy Hedgehog

*A few days later I got a phone call from John Lewis; someone had drawn their attention to this blog so they were phoning to apologise.

Which laptop?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 8 Jan 2014 13:17:00 GMT

My Acer TravelMate is dying - James managed to get Windows to work on it again after it completely stopped booting up but all my data has vanished. It's a good job he backed it all up for me recently!

I loved it for it's light weight, long battery life, cool running, and matt screen but the hard drive had to be replaced just before the first year warranty ran out, and a year later it looks like it's gone again.

I think it's time to replace it but I don't know what with. What I really want is the same again but with a hard drive that doesn't die after a year.

Caption competition

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 12 Nov 2013 13:13:00 GMT

Halloween came and went then I got a tummy bug, so last week was a write-off. Inspiration has fled; I'm trying to get out invitations to my birthday party, buy Xmas presents, get ready for my winter skiing holiday, get my new glasses sorted so that I can see through them, and edit 50k words for Nanowrimo.

None out of five isn't bad. Is it?

As I'm feeling uninspired, I thought I'd turn to you folks for inspiration. How about a caption for today's photo?

Are you ready?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 31 Oct 2013 07:40:00 GMT

Nanowrimo starts tomorrow. Are your pencils all sharpened, your notebooks at the ready, your laptop battery charged, your wordcount spreadsheets updated? Do you have snacks and coffee and chocolate to hand? Most importantly of all, do you have an outline?

Actually, skip that last one. You don't need to know where your story is going when you start writing; some of us only find out what the story is by writing it.

If you get stuck, Brian Klems has some suggestions for what to write next:

If you find yourself at a loss for what to write next, come up with a way to make things worse, let the characters respond naturally to what’s happening, write a scene that fulfills a promise you made earlier in the book, or work on a scene you know readers will expect based on your genre and the story you’ve told so far.

(from 6 Secrets of Writing a Novel Without an Outline)

Brian Klems suggests an organic way of working that I feel comfortable with but the article also gives you a lot of things to think of all at once when trying to write and I'm not sure I can do that. While I'm thinking up stories what seems to work best for me is trying to come up with the story I most want to read. Mind you, sometimes the characters just won't co-operate (I'm going to be editing a novel this month where the main character refused to fall for the attractive woman I'd set up for her and insisted on falling for a character who was supposed to be a minor annoyance).

For anyone doing Nano this year: I'm here to cheer you on. The purple bar is calling your name, just make sure you've got enough chocolate in to fuel your writing. Oh, is it only me that runs on chocolate then?

King Rufus

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Mon, 28 Oct 2013 07:00:00 GMT

We found the dog bed in a charity shop and it looked the right size for our cats so we brought it home. I rather liked the gold edging; I thought it gave the bed that throne ambiance that every cat should have.

Both cats sniffed at it then left it alone.

I wasn't going to be defeated so I had a cunning plan. I put the bed on the settee and sat on it like a cushion. Then after a while I went and cooked dinner. When I came back, Rufus had as usual taken my seat and was ensconced in the bed. I picked it up by the edges and put it on the floor and hey presto! Suddenly he can't be separated from it.

Just sometimes I think I'm cleverer than that cat.

Clocks go back

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 26 Oct 2013 09:53:00 +0100

If you're in the UK, don't forget the clocks go back tonight. And if you want something to cheer you up while thinking about the long, dark evenings ahead, you might want to revisit this old post.

Nearly November

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 24 Oct 2013 08:02:00 +0100

Just eight days to go till the start of Nanowrimo.

I've written seven 50k stories and one of 24k during previous Nanowrimos and they all languish unedited. I think it's time to change that so this year I'm not going to be nanoing, I'm going to be editing.

It's going to be hard because, hey, 50,000 words! That's a lot of words to edit! And also I love seeing my word count going up during Nano and I won't be doing that this year. I won't get a purple bar either. So maybe I won't stay motivated but I think it's worth a try.

Nano is a huge effort and a huge achievement - well it has been for me, anyway. It feels strange to be not quite part of it this year.

I shall still go to the ~~booze-~~ meet-ups though.

Don't blame me if I'm fat!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 21 Aug 2013 09:12:00 +0100

No, this isn't about all the weight I put on on holiday! This brilliant article explains why it's just too simplistic to accuse people who are overweight of a lack of will power leading to eating too much. How do we know it's not just that? Because many species of animals that live close to humans and who are on restricted diets are also getting fatter. It's not just about intake calories versus output exercise; the reasons are much more complex than that.

Possible culprits for the growing obesity trend include:

Sleeplessness
Stress
Viruses
Bacteria
Industrial chemicals
Heavy metals
Electric lights
Heating
Air conditioning
Famine in previous generations

It's probably a combination of a number of these leading to growing obesity. Sadly, the conclusion isn't that we can all eat as much as we like and it won't make any difference. If only! It really is worth reading the article to get the full picture.

Oh, and that photo isn't my cat, it's from Flickr. I couldn't resist his adorable shyness about his weight. (The photographer says "he's hiding from his famousness".)

The Return

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 18 Aug 2013 17:57:00 +0100

So, I'm back from France after two weeks without internet and I'm still sane. Whee, gibber, gibber.

Going cold turkey didn't affect me at all. My hovercraft is full of eels.

It's fine. You just have to decide not to care that you can't check anything online, play any games, find any crochet patterns, or chat to any friends. Life without google is great. No really, you should try it. You should all try it.

Whoops.

I spoke more bad French in the last two weeks than I have for years and the French graciously pretended to understand me. I ate too much rich food and I don't fit my waistbands. It was great.

But now I'm back, and other than Whirl cruelly deleting my comments on his blog, what's happening round here these days?

Edited to change helicopter to hovercraft because lack of internet is more damaging than you'd think. (Thanks, Simon!)

Goodbye!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 1 Aug 2013 10:50:00 +0100

But only for a couple of weeks.

I'm off on my holidays to sunny Brittany; well, I hope it will be sunny anyway.

Be good while I'm away and don't make a mess in here or at least if you do then please clear up after yourselves.

See you later!

Where was I?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 09:01:00 +0100

The way I see it is this: using Twitter is like singing in the street for all to hear, whereas Facebook is chatting with friends in a busy shopping centre where any of your friends, family, neighbours and colleagues can overhear and you might not notice them listening. Email is a private chat if you can get anyone to leave Facebook for five minutes to talk to you.

Blogger is a private work of art and my work of art has been sadly neglected lately. The blogosphere used to be a secluded community as well but many of the residents have moved to Facebook and I can't be anonymous there.

So I've been finding my community in Ravelry, where I can be fairyhedgehogg and not worry that my colleagues and neighbours will be watching what I post. Plus I can post pictures of all my crochet works of art (and disasters) and know that people will be genuinely interested.

Meanwhile, out in meatspace I've been working, and crocheting, and even writing a teeny, tiny bit. And getting a new job.

Yay, new job!

But that's a whole other post.

Spring forward

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 3 Apr 2013 12:45:00 +0100

It's 2°C/36°F outside and feels colder with the wind chill. The seasonal average for Epsom is around 12°C/54°F. I don't think the temperature has been much above 5°C since Christmas but I may be wrong.

We put the clocks forward at the weekend; you know: spring forward (fall back). It doesn't feel much like spring here.

The Lightning Process

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 09:53:00 GMT

I've been meaning to write for a while about how I got better from ME/CFS. Those of you who have met me face to face will know that I had several really bad years with CFS; I was mostly housebound and completely unable to work. Any time I did something really tiring, like meeting friends in London, I'd pay for it with days or weeks of pain and exhaustion.

Weekly Vitamin B12 injections helped by relieving the brain fog. I also did daily meditation, as recommended by the NHS, and paced myself. I did try to gradually increase the amount I was doing but without any noticeable progress. So I resigned myself to feeling like an eighty-year old woman although I was in my mid-fifties, and to a life where the internet was my main contact with the outside world. I had my lovely family around me and I told myself that I was happy.

Then a friend sent me a press cutting about the Lightning Process and I was desperate enough to try it.

The first day of the three-day course, I set off fearfully. I had a half hour's drive to get there, which was more than I was sure I could manage. All the way there I was turning over in my mind how I'd get back. Would I be able to drive? Would I need a taxi? Or maybe find somewhere to stay near the training venue?

That afternoon after four hours or so of training, I drove back home happily. I drove to a local wool shop to get wool. I cooked dinner. I drove my son and daughter-in-law to Slimming World and back. The change was amazing.

At first I kept very quiet about it. The Lightning Process sometimes has a bad press because of people apparently making extreme claims about it and I didn't think anyone would take me seriously until I'd been better for a while. And to be honest it felt like early days and I wasn't sure how I was going to be next month or next year.

Five months after the course, I was looking for work and found a part-time job at an after-school club. I was nervous about taking it; would my energy hold up? Well, it did and I felt happier than I had in a long while. No more state benefits for me I was getting paid, and getting paid to do a job I loved.

In April it will be two years since I did the Lightning Process. I'm working, I'm cycling, I'm learning Spanish and I'm happy. At the moment I'm trying to get fit enough to go on a skiing holiday.

I think we can call that a success.

Don't give up the day job?

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 13 Jan 2013 09:45:00 GMT

From Bo's Cafe Life

I've just been reading You're Not Fooling Anyone When You Take Your Laptop to a Coffee Shop: Scalzi on Writing and it made me think about what it's like to be a professional writer.

Scalzi has an interesting history. He's known since he was around fourteen that he wanted to write for a living because it was easy for him compared to say, maths. He's making a good living at writing but not mainly based on writing novels (or not at the time he wrote You're Not Fooling...) He's written a lot of non-fiction including articles for various publications and he's willing to take on most commissions if they pay well enough.

It clarified for me why I don't want to be a professional writer. If you're a writer you have to write whether you want to or not. Now I've done my fair share of writing for a job and quite enjoyed it. I had five years in the Civil Service mostly drafting documents, and I had regular reports to write in my last job for The Place2Be. That was fine but it's not what comes easiest to me. If I had to choose a job based on making a living at things that I'd want to do anyway, I'd choose to work with children.

And I do! (And what's even better is that we'll soon be getting a cook at our after-school club so I won't have to do the one bit of the job that I don't really care for.)

You know you're doing a job you like when you don't keep having to remind yourself "Well, at least I'm getting paid for this."

According to Scalzi, most fiction writers earn their living at something else. For him it's non-fiction writing; for me it's working with children. I'm not ready to give up my day job and I'm not sure I ever will be. What about you?

Pictures I Found On My Phone

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 3 Jan 2013 16:07:00 GMT

I was going to call this post something posh like "2012 Retrospective" but then I decided to go with honesty: these are the pictures I found on my phone. They remind me of some of the good times I had last year.

Probaby Denbies Vineyard, probably summer 2012

Bonnie enjoying the summer sun

Walking near the New Inn at Send

Rufus in his hammock

Where I work, sans children (because of issues with photographing other people's children and putting their pictures online)

Geek get-together during NaNoWriMo (note the amazing camera work and I wasn't even drunk)

Christmas Reindeer at Covent Garden

Skating at Somerset House

Flooding upriver of Hampton Court Palace

After-Christmas Cats with their new cat tree

Somewhere I also have pictures of the family over Christmas and New Year but you've been spared those. The photos of Box Hill today are still on my phone. Be grateful for small mercies!

Next week it's back to work but until then I'm enjoying the holidays. I hope you are too.

New Year Family Fun

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 2 Jan 2013 12:47:00 GMT

Here is Bonnie winning herself some gems in the Hobbit game; sadly the whole party of dwarves got eaten but she had the most gems, so she was the richest, dead dwarf of us all.

Cats at Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 14:47:00 GMT

Rufus caught a bird yesterday and we found it rather messily dead on the kitchen floor. But to make up for it, I got a lovely card from the cats today.

The envelope said: TO OUR SERVANT NO 1

In case you can't read the dialogue:

Rufus: What's all this Christmas fuss about?
Bonnie: It's a time of goodwill to all cats and their servants. (Not mice.)
Bonnie: All I see is an empty dish.

Bonnie: Didn't we get the servants a present?
Rufus: Er Yea. I left it somewhere. I know, on the floor in the kitchen.

Mouse: I don't think I like Christmas very much.

I hope you're having a wonderful Christmas time. (If you're not, then you might like to go here: http://exmoorjane.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/if-christmas-suddenly-blindsides-you.html )

Best wishes to one and all!

Merry Advent!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 08:53:00 GMT

From Tea with the Squash God

I hope you're all coping with the run-up to Christmas! I'm behind with my present-buying and card-writing and work is slightly insane at the moment; that's what you get when everyone is stressed out and the children are over-excited.

But other than that, everything's fine! What about you?

I did it!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 29 Nov 2012 10:13:00 GMT

I thought I'd given up at one point but somehow I could never bring myself to abandon the challenge completely. I think this might be my worst story yet but I'm sure there will be salvageable ideas in it.

My poor main characters are currently exploring a distant future and I think I ought to bring them back home before I call it quits.

I grew to like some of my main characters, although the Dad (sorry, I mean Papa because he's French) was a bit of a grumpuss and I wish I knew why my very main character was shying away from any sort of relationship.

Anyway, it's done. Now I can do all those things that I've not been getting around to, like Spanish homework and Christmas shopping.

Oh, and if you want a book that is actually a good read, I'm still recommending Ice Diaries by Lexi because that book has stayed in my mind ever since I read it. I know it will be high on my re-read list when I get my Christmas present, which this year is going to be a Kindle. Yay, Kindle!

Random Penguin

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 20 Nov 2012 09:53:00 GMT

Okay, now I've done it. I've included a random penguin and a crocheted chicken suit in my Nanomuddle.

I was doing so well the first eight days then I ran out of plot. It's been an uphill struggle since then and I'm getting desperate.

Oddly enough, I kind of expected this. I know that I always get to a stage where I have nothing left to write and have to pull ideas out of the air. I was hoping that inspiration would hit and that something good would arise out of the randomness, as happened to Erin Morganstern with The Night Circus.

I obviously thought about that too much because I ended up with a travelling circus in my story.

And although I'm not writing fanfiction, I'm sure my debt to Star Trek, Dr Who and Lexi Revellian is showing.

I'm also collecting characters as I go along. At this rate I'll have a cast of thousands which is not easy when you're trying to work out who should be talking in a scene.

Still, it beats worrying about what we're going to do for Christmas.

Ice Diaries

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 15 Nov 2012 20:46:00 GMT

Ice Diaries came out this week. It's the latest book by Lexi Revellian and I loved it. She just goes on getting better which I wouldn't have thought was possible.

Tori is stranded in an England covered up to 20m deep in snow; can she find her way south to warmer climes?

There's a great cast of characters and I was so drawn into the story that I was surprised to look up from the book and see autumn leaves instead of snow! I recommend it.

If you pop over to Lexi's website you can read the beginning of the book for free as a taster. I admit I didn't bother; after Lexi's previous books I went straight to amazon as soon as I saw it was out.

Only two problems:

1. I nearly put the book aside in the middle when it became too tense.

2. I should have been writing my Nanonovel instead of reading a whole book in two days.

Meh. It was worth it!

On the first day of Nano

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Thu, 1 Nov 2012 09:10:00 GMT

I've written 2000 words.

It always surprises me how tired I feel afterwards! I need to write 1786 words a day if I want to get to 50k by the end of November, allowing for two days off. Because I do have a life, and I've got a brilliant day of skating and Christmas treats planned thanks to where my Beloved works.

The first day or so is usually the easiest as I use up all the story I've already worked out. I wonder how long it will be till I run out.

Space opera and Georgette Heyer

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 20:23:00 +0100

How can it have taken me so long to find the Vorkosigan saga?

This science fiction series was started in the 80s. Mind you, I was a bit busy in the 80s what with having babies and all. I still find it hard to realise that it's been available all these years and I've only just discovered it!

For those of you who haven't discovered it yet: Lois McMaster Bujold has written a series that is pure space opera in the early books, with a Georgette Heyer type romance later in the series, and some murder mysteries. All set in the future.

I love her world; I love her main character; and in the last few months I've read nine or ten of the books. I can't get enough. This is addiction at its worst but at least it's non-fattening.

Chicken

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 11:43:00 +0100

A lot of Nanowrimoers have friends who don't understand why they would want to do such a strange thing as to try to write a novel in a month unless there's some big prize at the end of it.

For me, it's like running a marathon. You have the professional athletes who aim to do it in less than three hours as part of their training and other people who train for months or years just to be able to say that they've run it at all.

And me? I'm the one in the chicken suit. I don't take it seriously, I'm not aiming at turning professional, so I might as well have fun along the way; but boy what a major achievement if I get 50k words written in a month.

If you're doing Nano this year, what's your reason for doing it?

Getting ready for Nanowrimo

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 7 Oct 2012 14:02:00 +0100

My word-count spreadsheet is all ready with this year's dates; the widget is up on the blog; and I've set up a folder in my Dropbox account. I've saved my link to Written? Kitten! and I've got plenty of chocolate to reward myself. Is there anything I've forgotten?

Oh yes. Plan my novel.

Well, I've got three whole weeks to do that in.

Eep!

By the way, the wordcount spreadsheet is available by email if anyone wants one. It may be my greatest success of Nano.

Too cute for words!

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Wed, 3 Oct 2012 21:21:00 +0100

It's the run-up to Nanowrimo and I've discovered Written? Kitten!

Previously I'd seen Write or Die but Written? Kitten! is a far better incentive. For every 100 words you type you get a new picture of a cute kitten.

I think it could make me positively verbose! Who can resist the lure of a kitten?

A discovery

noreply@blogger.com (fairyhedgehog) — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 18:11:00 +0100

I met Sarah Wynde in the comment trail over on Lexi Revellian's blog. She was explaining her views on fan fiction and sounded like someone I'd like to know, so I visited her blog. And found her self-published novels. And discovered that they are delightful.

A Gift of Ghosts is a paranormal love story written in a fresh, lively style. It's an easy read and light-hearted despite a plot that touches on drug overdose and suicide. I felt amused and entertained the whole way through. The plot builds to a crescendo and although the ending wasn't a surprise it was entirely satisfying.

I liked the gradual uncovering of the rules for the paranormal in this universe and the way that they seem to have an inner consistency, even if we don't know everything yet. The main character's struggles to make sense of her experiences of the paranormal within her scientific worldview were fun too.

There are three novels in the series. I'm about to start reading number two!

Full disclosure: I didn't pay for books one or two. I intend to buy book three!