Helen Glynn Jones

A Little More Ordinary

As I wrote in my last post, my daughter and I were heading to a nearby village to visit The Treasure Box, a seemingly magical store where you could find just about anything. However, what I didn’t write was that there was a reason we needed to go there this weekend – the store was closing down, and Saturday was their final day.

I know – sad-face, right?

Well, we certainly were sad when we got there and saw the store filled with people going in and out, cards strung across the room from well-wishers. It turns out that, after thirty-three years in business together, the charming couple who run the store are retiring. When I asked if someone would be taking over, they said no – a Simmonds Bakery was moving in.

I managed to sneak a couple of interior shots, just to give you an idea of what it was like

You know, I like a baked good as much as the next person, but to hear that a chain store bakery would be taking over such a magical little shop was disappointing, to say the least. However, if I find I can go into this Simmonds and ask for any type of baked good I can think of, and they can then go into ‘the back room’ and get it for me, then I know that they’ll have tapped into the magical portal of wishes, or whatever it was back there that gave each shopper whatever it was they were looking for.

When I took this shot, I was standing next to several boxes labelled: ‘Plumbing’, ‘Leg warmers’, ‘Beads’, and one that contained slippers.

So my daughter and I rummaged through the boxes one last time, coming away with an eclectic assortment of goods including ribbons, a nail brush, metal skewers, a saucepan vegetable strainer, an umbrella and, our crowning glory, a giant bag of mixed buttons, which has kept the gorgeous girl busy for the better part of today as she sorts them into individual bags. We could have bought more, but budget and shopping bag constraints meant we had to be reasonable. We paid, then wished the couple well in their new life, thanking them for everything.

Then we stepped out the door for the last time, into a world a little more ordinary.

Tea, Updates and Vampire Stories

I know there’s a weekly thing where bloggers catch up as though having coffee, a conversational get-together with updates from the past week. I’m more of a tea drinker, myself, so, if we were having tea, this is what I’d tell you:

So, this happened yesterday.

Yay! I reached my 30,000 word target with Silver and Black, the vampire novel I’ve been working on of late. It’s far from finished, of course, but I have a good framework in place, as well as the knowledge of where the story needs to go and what the characters have to achieve, so I’m pleased, overall. I’m still thinking about serialising the whole thing on my blog, as the response to the small snippets I’ve posted so far has been pretty good.

The weather here this week has been quite mad, one minute bright sunshine, then the next snow and ice falling from a clear blue sky. At one point last week we were walking through the park on the top of the hill where we live, and all around us, in almost a perfect circle, I could see vast towering grey and white clouds dumping rain and ice, while above us the sky was blue. A bit of Spring weather madness, I guess. But the tide seems to be turning, so to speak, with sunshine and warmer temperatures forecast for next week – with May Day just around the corner, this is welcome news.

And I’m also expecting, finally, to be able to publish Hills and Valleys, the third instalment of my Ambeth Chronicles. I knew I was cursing myself by putting a publishing date at the end of No Quarter, and so it came to pass that the whole thing has taken longer than planned. However, the plus side of that has been more time to finetune the book, including finding (and fixing) a small continuity error. Plus, my editor thinks this is the strongest instalment yet, so it’s been worth doing the extra work. Everything happens as it’s supposed to, I guess.

And now it’s the Bank Holiday weekend. Rain is forecast, as is expected, though at the moment we have brilliant sunshine. The gorgeous girl had an excellent school report this week so, as a reward, I’m taking her to one of her favourite places, a craft store where she can do a project in store. They provide the paint, glue, apron and workspace then, for a small fee, she can choose something from the shelves or pottery collection and create a masterpiece. We are also going to visit The Treasure Box, the magical store I wrote about in a previous blog post, where she will no doubt spend time rummaging through the ribbons and buttons, looking for treasure.

Other than that, we’re planning to let the weekend unfold as it will, plans subject to change, depending on the weather. Hope you all have a lovely weekend, and that the sun shines on you, wherever you are. 🙂

Walking It Out

I like to walk.

I walk every day, through choice as much as necessity (we are a one car family) and, unless it’s really raining, I enjoy the fresh air and exercise. The gorgeous girl and I walk to her school every day – we play word games and look at the world around us, watching snails sliding along brick walls, flowers blooming and changing, cats and dogs and birds and butterflies. It’s a lovely part of my day and I feel very fortunate to be able to do it. And on the way back, when I’m alone, I relish the opportunity to let my thoughts out to play. I’m exercising my body but also my mind – it’s amazing how many key plot twists or character conundrums I’ve been able to solve simply by walking along, not thinking necessarily hard about the idea, but just letting it flow with my steps. There is a type of meditative walking you can do, where you tie your breathing to the steps so that you are present in the moment – I haven’t tried it, mainly because I’m worried I’ll drift into the road or something, but I like to think that what I do sometimes is similar.

So as a writer, walking is very good for me. I recently wrote a short story inspired by an unusual porch light I noticed on one of my walks, and much of the woodland feel of my Ambeth Chronicles comes from walking through forested lanes as the seasons changed around me. It’s also good if you’re feeling a bit low. Sometimes I wonder why I’m writing, especially if a rejection comes through, but then I walk and remember that I write for the joy of writing itself, of telling these marvellous stories that keep appearing in my mind.

You could argue that working from home as I do gives me more opportunity to walk but it’s something I’ve always done. When I worked full time in an office I always incorporated a walk into my day, whether to or from work (when I could) or, if I was too far from home, using my lunch break to get out and explore the neighbourhood, taking my mind away from the computer screen for a little while.

And that’s another point. When I say walking, I don’t mean wandering along scrolling through Facebook or checking emails or satellite positions or whatever it is those people are doing (you know the people I mean). The ones who walk along holding their phone out in front of them as though it’s some sort of guidance system, leading them to where they need to go. Sure, sometimes I might stop and check for an email if I’m expecting something, but for the most part when I’m walking I’m more interested in what I can see around me, the people I’m with and the ideas in my head. I carry a notepad and pen to jot things down, and then I just let things happen.

So if you’re stuck in the plot, or just need to clear your headspace, go outside and walk it out.

This post, minus a few alterations, was originally published in July 2014, back in the dim dark days when no-one ever came to visit my blog. The sentiments still ring true, and so I thought I’d dig it out, give it a polish, and share with you again. 🙂

Thursday Doors – Camden, London

Here’s my entry to Norm 2.0’s Thursday Doors challenge for this week. There are actually three doors in this photo (plus bonus London double decker bus). The black door is obvious, but there are doors in the two end ‘faces’ as well.

I took this photo in Camden last week, on the way to a gig at The Black Heart. It was dusk, which is why the image is not so bright, but I thought the street art so interesting I had to take a shot.

For more doors, or to add one of your own, visit Norm’s site and click the link.

Wednesday Wander – Andorra-La-Vella, Andorra

Hidden in a valley, walled by high mountains, Andorra is built from wood and stone, houses perched on cliff edges and peaks, the main road following the path of the river that rushes from the mountains, carving the land. When I told a friend that I was going to Andorra last year, he commented that he’d always thought of it as a made-up place, one of those mythical European kingdoms you see in movies.

The capital city of Andorra-La-Vella does have a bit of a fairytale feel, especially in the old part of town, though beyond there are shiny modern office buildings as well as lots of excellent tax-free shopping. Located between, and jointly governed by, France and Spain, Andorra is an ancient Principality steeped in history, with the capital city founded by Charlemagne over a thousand years ago.

The Casa De La Vall, above, was built in the sixteenth century and is still the state’s parliamentary house, though a new modern building nearby now houses much of the administration.

I loved the way the mountains felt, like a wall against the outside world, embracing and protecting the towns running along the valley. Apparently it can feel quite shut in during winter when the snow is high and travel more difficult, but the increasing popularity of the many ski resorts mean that there is plenty to do all year round.

When we left Andorra we followed the rushing river, which became wider and lazier as it headed towards Spain. As we crossed the plains I looked back, and all I could see were mountains, Andorra hidden from sight once more, as though it were never there.

Thanks for coming on another Wednesday Wander with me – see you next week!

#blogbattle – A Run In The Dark

I’ve had a few weeks away from Rachael Ritchey’s #blogbattle, so it’s nice to be back. This week the topic is ‘Voice,’ and my entry is an excerpt from Silver and Black, the vampire novel I’ve been working on this month as my Camp NaNoWriMo project (only a few thousand words to go!)

——-

A Run In The Dark

Let me tell you how it is, to run with a vampire. Both my mother and father have carried me before, especially when I was younger, playing games around the long lawns and rolling fields of our estate. But no one else has, ever. Oh, sure, guards in the past have picked me up when I’ve fallen, taking me to the house and safety in seconds. But never has anyone else taken me for a long run, where you cling close and feel as though you are part of the other person, the wind rushing around you both, cleaving you even closer together.

When my father ran with me, it was part terrifying, part exhilarating, and I used to laugh and scream in turn, tears leaking from my closed eyes. I think it amused him.

When my mother ran with me I felt safe, held in a net of love strong and soft as her long hair, which wrapped tendrils around me as though alive.

But with Kyle, it was different altogether. Of course it was. For despite how stupid I felt, what a disaster the evening had been, he was right. I had enjoyed myself for a while in there. Because of him. And now, with my head pressed against his shoulder, my mouth oh-so-close to his caramel skin, his arms strong around me, I wished the run would last forever, that we could run to the Safe Zone and the distant sea and spend time there together, just the two of us. The night was a blur of velvety dark, stars and moon striping silver around us so it was as if we ran under a giant bowl, the world turning under his feet as he sped me towards the safety of home. I saw the gateposts flash past, darker silhouette of raven statues against the sky, the thud of earth changing to the crunch of gravel as we ran up the long drive towards the main house.

‘Raven claw, blood and stone!’ he called out, as we passed each set of guards stationed at the gate and along the drive, each of them responding in turn with the night’s password. They could see who it was he carried, anyway.

Then it was over. He stopped at the base of the steps, the tall pillars striped paler against the darkness. The front door opened and I could see a faint glow of candlelight, my mother silhouetted against it.

‘Emelia?’

She came down the stairs in a rustle of silk, and I could hear the worry in her voice. I found mine.

‘I’m all right. I was just tired, that’s all.’ I was still clinging to Kyle, but he had moved me slightly away from his body, cool air between us. ‘Uh, sorry. ‘ I let go of his neck, my arm and hand stiff from holding tight, my hair feeling stretched and windblown. I ran my hand through it as Kyle carefully set me down, then staggered. He caught me, his hand against my waist. Then Mother was there, her arms around me, hands stroking my hair.

‘Come, lovely girl. There is tea for you, and you can tell me all about it.’ Then she turned to Kyle. ‘And I have arranged a special meal for you, downstairs.’

He stood to attention, heels together, then bowed. ‘I thank you, my lady.’ Then his glance flicked to me. ‘Sleep well, Emelia.’

‘Thanks.’ But he was gone and I felt all at once cold, despite my mother’s arms around me, as she led me into the warmth of the house.

And that’s all! For more entries, to vote, or add an entry of your own, head over to Rachael’s blog and click the Blog Battle link.

Making Magic

It’s been a funny sort of month. A mixed bag, if you will. Oh, nothing too full on awful – simply a combination of things that have left me feeling a bit down, less inspired than usual. But really, who am I to complain? With the state of the world as it is, I know that I, in my comfortable life, am very fortunate. Plus, I think a post with me burbling on about general feelings of malaise just wouldn’t be that interesting, to be honest.

So today I decided to make some magic. Now, before we go any further, I don’t consider myself any sort of expert practitioner. I have read and experienced some fairly esoteric things, and I certainly believe in Shakespeare’s assertion that ‘there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ I’m also open to the idea of changing one’s energy, of choosing to pursue a more positive path. I know that there are things in life for which it is just not possible or easy to say ‘oh well, I choose to be positive about this,’ but for general feelings of just being a bit down, a bit off, I believe that focus and a positive attitude can make a difference.

And so what is magic, after all? There are varied schools of thoughts on this, but most seem to agree that it comprises both intent and ritual. Intent, in that there is something you wish to achieve, and ritual, a series of steps which focus power and attract the right sort of energy to get things done. And when you think about it, intent is another word for choice, at least when it pertains to our own lives. And ritual is a route to focus, which is what we need to effect change.

Our whole family has been sick this month with a virus that refuses to go away, mutating and moving from head to throat to chest, a fever that comes and goes, chills and tiredness. A month of spluttering and coughing and broken sleep, the house closed against the cold weather. So this morning I woke up and said to my husband, ‘I think I might smudge the house today.’ He nodded in agreement. You see, we’ve had success with this ritual before. When we bought our first house in Australia, it was a busy time. We were both working and living in Melbourne, planning our wedding, then heading down the coast on weekends to renovate our new place, supposedly getting away from the bustle and stress of city living. Yet, every time I slept in our new house, I had the most awful blood-soaked nightmares, the kind from which you wake shaking, wondering what the hell is going on. Our new neighbours had told us some of the history of the house and its previous owners, and what was clear was that it was a place that had not been loved for quite some time. So I decided to give smudging a try. I had read about it but never tried it before – if you’re not familiar with the practice, it involves burning a tightly tied bunch of herbs (usually sage and/or lavender) then wafting the smoke through the rooms of the house, letting open windows take the smoke away and with it any ‘bad energy’ that might be bringing the place down. So I smudged our little beach house, lavender and sage wafting through and out into the blue yonder. Then I slept the most peaceful sleep I’d had there. We ended up living in that house for seven years, and people would always comment on what a nice feel it had. The nightmares never returned, either.

What’s really interesting about smudging is that, even though it’s an ancient practice dating back several thousand years, scientific research has recently discovered that the medicinal smoke generated by the burning herbs actually does cleanse the air of harmful bacteria and pathogens, with the effects lasting up to a month after the initial smudging process. Sounds about perfect for a house full of sick people, don’t you think? So this morning I dug out my smudge stick, picked some extra herbs and flowers then took advantage of the fresh breeze, opening doors and windows and letting the warm scent of burning sage fill the rooms. The house certainly does feel fresher, so it will be interesting to see how my family react when they get home later. And, interestingly, my mood has lifted with the cleansing, my writing kicking back into gear.

That seems pretty magical, don’t you think?

#writephoto – Spiral

This morning I woke to the internet being down. Completely off. A recorded announcement from my supplier when I called them assured me an ‘engineer was working to fix the problem,’ which seemed fairly typical.

I use the internet most days, obviously, doing research and reading blogs, catching up on posts I’ve missed and posting work of my own. I’d planned to post a response to Sue’s photo prompt today plus do a few other things, but there I was, cut off.

And you know what? It was not a bad thing. In fact, it reminded me to focus on something I’ve been working on this year – the idea of bringing more balance back into my life. And so I pottered about, looking after family, moving through the day without the nagging feeling that I needed to keep checking this and checking that, a burden I hadn’t realised I’d been carrying lifted.

And then we came back online. My daughter, who’d been horrified when I informed her we had no internet, heaved a sigh of relief (she’s a bit under the weather today, so playing outside wasn’t on the agenda). My husband was able to watch the Aussie Rules football game. And I headed back into blogland, though a little more mindfully than before.

And so here is my response to Sue’s spiral staircase photo. I actually wrote two small stories, each around the 100 word mark. Both stories feature children and, even though I didn’t set out to do so, I think they might be linked. They are also quite dark, which seems to be a thing for me of late. I think as writers we need to sometimes let ourselves go into the darkness, so our books hold both light and shade. Sue wrote a post touching on that the other week, as well. Right. Enough waffling. Here we go:

Freedom.

She could feel its kiss whenever she passed the small window, a glimpse of blue and green, misted fields in early light.

Then her gaze turned upwards, the bucket heavy in her small hands, dripping on the worn stones.

And so she went, day in and day out, cleaning her lady’s chamber. The fields turned from green to gold as water dripped and dust rose, swirling to lie thick on the wooden floor, no matter how she shuttered the windows against it.

But one day, when ice silvered her bucket and the fields beyond, she did not wake, the deep frost taking her as she slept.

Free once more.

——-

‘Come on then!’ He clattered up the old stone stairs, his feet the last thing visible as he rounded the curve. ‘Scaredy cat!’

The words floated down and she frowned, clenching her small fists. ‘Am not!’ She could hear his laughter, faint, the sound of his feet receding. ‘Hmmph!’

She started to climb. Haunted tower or no, she’d see who the scaredy cat was when they got to the top. Then the screaming began, and she grinned. Serve him right, she thought, remembering the dead rat she’d hung there earlier that day.

Then the screaming stopped. And she saw his feet again.

Dangling.

Nominations for Bloggers Bash Awards Are Now OPEN!

Ooh, the nominations are now open for the Blogger’s Bash Awards! I can already think of several blogs I’d like to nominate – how about you? Check out the link, remember to follow the rules and, if you’re heading to London on June 11, I’ll see you there 🙂

Sacha Black

Who Nominate?

We are finally on the count down to the bash, peeps.

I am so excited I really ought to be wearing a sports bra what with all the bouncing up and down.

So far we have announced the totally-off-the-chart-gorgeous venue here. Then we announced our blogger extraordinaire and guest speaker Luca here.

But now, now after months of waiting I can officially say, that nominations for the bloggers bash awards are

NOW OPEN

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Guest Post: Charles Yallowitz and Legends of Windermere

Today I welcome Charles Yallowitz back to Journey to Ambeth, with a rather big announcement. His first Legends Of Windermere book, Beginning of A Hero, is now permanently free! So if you feel like visiting a new fantasy world, now’s the time to download a copy and discover the Legend for yourself.

Here’s Charles with more…

Thank you to Helen for helping to spread the word that Legends of Windemere: Beginning of a Hero is now free. Now this might not be big news to people because nobody knows what Legends of Windemere is besides an indie book that is part of a series. The name does have a fantasy ring to it too. Anyway, I’ve been asked to give a little introductory to Windemere to go along with the big news.

It’s the first book of my fantasy adventures series . . . That’s not enough? Okay.

Legends of Windemere follows the adventures of Luke Callindor, who is a half-elven warrior from a famous family. He has run away from home to prove he is worthy of the surname that is connected to so many heroes. Being young, impatient, and reckless, Luke gets his first adventure by lying to a royal messenger and inadvertently putting himself in the path of a demonic assassin. Beginning of a Hero is all about Luke learning what it is to be a hero and how he has a long ways to go. Things do not come easily to him and he makes several mistakes with the help of some new friends. There’s also a small dragon named Fizzle who loves apples and learned Tradespeak from a child.

As the series progresses, Luke’s destiny is revealed and he meets others who are in the same situation like Nyx the Prodigy of Rainbow Tower and Sari the gypsy. I can already hear people groaning about the Chosen One, but it doesn’t really work that way in Windemere. Gabriel the Destiny God crafts the fate of the good and bad, but there is still free will. He can only say that these heroes will face their challenges or even make it to the great battle in some shape or form.

Yet, they are the ones who decide on how they get there and if they’ll win. For example, a character does something in Curse of the Dark Wind that throws their destiny off and makes them unpredictable. So fate, destiny, Chosen One status, and all of that isn’t as cut and dry in this world. I have a guest post going up on L.Marie’s blog about this topic, so I won’t spoil it here.

Each book of the series has a new challenge for Luke and his friends. Since this is an ensemble cast series, the adventure may focus on different characters in each book. One book might be all about a threat to Luke Callindor while the next focuses on Nyx atoning for a mistake. The events do effect the continuing story since the characters change in the aftermaths and the main plot is still going. Yet, this isn’t a series where one book is simply a continuation of the last one and nothing new is added. I actually prefer this method because it makes it easier to evolve the characters. If there’s one thing I love to do, it’s make my heroes and villains evolve.

Legends of Windemere is a series that focuses a lot on action, humor, and character interactions to get the plot moving. I write in Present Tense Third Person (watches stampede for the door), so things such as flashbacks don’t really fit the style. I have to depend a lot on dialogue to explain things, so my characters aren’t all-knowing and have some level of curiosity. As a supporting character says in a later book, “How can I learn if I don’t ask questions?” That’s a big part of the series in a way because you have these destined heroes learning how to fit into their role. It’s a lot of responsibility on their shoulders and I’ve made sure that Luke and his friends don’t always see it as a good thing.

As you can sense, there is a lot to say about the series and the adventure starts with Beginning of a Hero. Luke Callindor might not be the only main hero in this series, but he’s the first one that the audience meets. I know he’s green around the edges and doesn’t operate like a hero right away, which is just how he is. Much like me when I wrote the story, Luke doesn’t know everything about his path. We stumble, fall, earn scars, and search for reasons to continue moving forward. Some may see the title as the first step of a young half-elf who will become an unstoppable warrior. Yet, the truth is that it’s where Luke Callindor learns that it isn’t your skills, heritage, or destiny that makes you a hero. It’s what you fight for and how you handle obstacles that earn you the title.

For more information, follow the links:

Legends of Windemere
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Grab Legends of Windemere: Beginning of a Hero for Free!

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