Mornings at Blackwater

Mary Oliver

I’ve written a thriller called Blackwatertown. Some pivotal action, romance and revelation takes place at the local Blackwater Lake. So I was very pleased to receive from my mate Kirsty, some poems her Dad had spotted.

They’re by Mary Oliver and talk about her own Blackwater Pond and the wonder and joy and challenge of living.

My Blackwater is both real and fictional and can be found inside my book and on the Irish border. I’m not sure where Mary Oliver’s Blackwater is. Can anyone enlighten me?

Mary herself is an acclaimed poet from Ohio. Here are two of her poems.

For years, every morning, I drank
from Blackwater Pond.
It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.
And live
your life.

The third stanza, darling citizen, is wonderful, is it not? I have a quotation from Napoleon at the beginning of my story at the moment: “What is history but a fable agreed upon?” Maybe I should change it – or add to it

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Deadlines

Deadlines have never been a problem.

Well, except for that one time when I watched through a wire fence as a plane taxied away without me on it.

Though hopefully it was only that one time and I am currently in Scotland at a wedding, having caught a more recent plane this time. (If not, I’m in trouble

We have lift off…

Watch out for flying motorbikes, Bermondsey Street, London.

I’m taking off – not actually on a flying motorbike Evil Knievel style – but on a plane to Scotland.

(Yes, yes, I know, I’m personally responsible for killing the planet. At least I’m getting the train back.)

So I’ll be even less responsive than the poor performance lately.

But it’ll give me the opportunity to – read my kindle. Assuming it works. The first one didn’t. I’ll be taking the replacement.

It’s about time I had one, given that I’ve been urging you to download the ebook I’ve written – but could only read myself on my computer. Cheeky, huh? But I’ve now rectified the situation.

The “gripping” ebook is called The Obituarist by the way. You can download it for pc, mac. kobo, nook, device, tablet, etc here from Smashwords, or for kindle here from Amazon.co.uk or here from Amazon.com.

As for me, having read The Point in print, I’ll be catching up with Wee Rockets and other work by Gerard Brennan and Dickens.

The trip will also give me the opportunity to distribute some of the NEW and exciting business cards for The Obituarist that arrived today. I also ordered a few postcards too. So if you know anyone who might be swayed by a postcard entreating them to download an ebook, let me know. You can email me their address if you don’t want to put it in a comment – paulwaters99 AT hotmail.com

Just think of their delighted surprise and happy faces when

Not everything has to have a moral…

Some things are good.

Some things are bad.

And some things are just weird.

(The Good, the Bad and the Ugly came to mind first – but who’d have guessed that there’s actually a film called The Good, The Bad and the Weird? Click on the pic.)

But getting back to the point. Look at this short film. There’s a clam, but there’s no moral message. It’s just weird.

I was braced for something icky at the end.

The Obituarist goes international

Since that bust up in Australia, The Obituarist has now been reviewed in the USA by the writer Maxi Malone. Woohoo – it’s going international!

I can’t link directly to the review page, but here’s what she said:

When First We Deceive – The Obituarist by Paul A. Waters

Writing obituaries does not weave a trail to fame and fortune. Only this obit writer has found someone who will pave the road to front-page success.

His name is Bunty and he knows all the members of the TripleX mission; a small group noted for the infamous raid on occupied France. The brazen men trampled the Nazi long-range rocket schedule right in the face of Hitler.

Bunty knows all the back-stories—the secrets of Joker, Ginger, Radish and the others. And the obit writer knows how to get him to open up.

When Bunty and the writer decide to join forces, they head down the path to the pot at the end of the rainbow. Only which one will get the gold?

The Obituarist is a sizzling tale filled with humor, mystery and suspense. Bunty and the obit writer connect on every level until … human nature steps in and crashes the party.

The men become friendly enemies, intent to serve their own best interest. In the end “turn-about is fair play” wins the day.

Find out for yourself:https://blackwatertown.wordpress.com/the-obituarist/

“Sizzling” – thanks Maxi.

A childhood memory comes to mind. Anybody else remember the scent of the Cookstown sizzle?

So, there you have it from Maxi. The Obituarist is officially worth downloading. Or even reviewing yourself perhaps? Huh?

You can find The Obituarist on Smashwords at http://tinyurl.com/bud4ffu or Amazon.co.uk at http://tinyurl.com/8xwrfpb  or even Amazon.com at  http://tinyurl.com/87g2nzc

Care Giving

Lesley Joseph (right), with her hosts Pat and Malcolm in the BBC’s When I’m 65 season on ageing.

If you’re looking for unsung heroes, look no fourther than care givers.

Though you may find them hard to spot, because as well as unsung – they’re often unappreciated, unsupported, unpaid, unhealthy themselves, quite likely unhappy – and unable to get out much. Such is the burden of responsibility and sheer physical exhaustion involved in looking after someone else.

According to Carers UK, there are an estimated 1.3 million people aged 65 and over who are the primary (perhaps only?) carer for someone else. So as well as the self-sacrificing goodness involved, they’re also saving the state (i.e. the rest of us) a lot of cash.

So it’s good when someone pays attention to them, or even better, lends a hand.

Whether it’s a care worker paid for out of those pesky taxes, a neighbour or – in this case – actress Lesley Joseph, who played Dorien in the TV series Birds of a Feather.

Sure it was for a TV show – part of the BBC’s When I’m 65 season – but that doesn’t mean it can’t be sincere and helpful – nor that she doesn’t personally have her own insight. She has a 100-year-old Mum of her own after all.

Birds of a Feather – back in the day: Linda Robson, Lesley Joseph & Pauline Quirke

I met Lesley when

This is what it’s like when author rivalry gets nasty

Do you remember that awkward episode where I published an ebook called The Obituarist at the same time as somebody did? (In fact a little… er… after the other guy.)

I published some of our correspondence – and put up a link to him.

Well, Patrick O’Duffy in Australia, the gracious author of The other Obituarist (or is mine the other one?) has kindly told his readers about me. It’s here.

The problem is…

The annoying thing is…

The downright insulting thing is…

Well, just read what he said about me

Premature gratification

Some people just cannot or will not wait.

I saw this Christmas shop window being installed this month.

So that’s Christmas, right? In JULY!

I do hope it does not end up looking like this…

Austerity Measure

I’m always excited about visiting the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy.

One past year had a huge gorilla constructed from coat hangers. Another year I offered to take a reader of this blog on a free tour of the exhibition. Padmini took me up on it. I’ve been a fan. A defender.

But this year… It’s just…

Great to see old favourites – Norman Ackroyd, Anselm Kiefer, Barbara Rae and others. But overall it just didn’t get me going.

It was the Austerity Measure from the Henningham Family Press that most caught my eye.

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Could this be the woman for me?

I saw this classified advertisement. What do you reckon? Is she the girl for me?

SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I’m a very good girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I’ll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Call……….  and ask for Annie, I’ll be waiting…..

But wait. There’s a picture that goes with the advert