The Grim Reaper by Judith Radbourne. #MondayBlogs

Some of you may know, as well as holding private creative writing workshops, I also tutor creative writing for the local council. Tutoring adults can be  rewarding (discovering wonderful writers), chaotic (my lesson plans are rarely followed – someone will inevitably take things off at a tangent) hilarious (the undiscovered comedian/ the completely unaware comedian) and thought-provoking (especially with memoir writing) Every now and then I like to share some of their work. This week I asked the classes to write three different personas of The Grim Reaper. Here is a set of brilliant pieces on the subject written by Judith Radbourne

death-2865060__340

 

Images courtesy of Pixybay

The Grim Reaper

1-VACANCY- WANTED a Grim Reaper. Are you looking for a stable and reliable career option?

Previous experience not required. Immediate start available

Role summary; This is an extremely demanding role, with unpredictable hours. The successful candidate must be available at short notice and use their initiative when dealing with difficult situations. The ability to ‘think on their’ feet essential to successful outcomes. Effective decision making and timely interventions are key.

Uniform provided- Black cloak with hood must be kept clean and tidy. It is company policy that candidates provide their height to ensure length of cloak meets trip hazard standards. Under current Health and Safety regulations, Section 3, paragraph 2a subsection 6c, candidates must ensure that their scythe is appropriately covered when not in use to avoid accidental injury to self or others.

Terms and conditions; Zero hours contract, Unsocial hours guaranteed.

Travelling expenses negotiable depending on mode of transport.

Must be willing to master a varied range of skills to succeed in this role including horse riding and boatmanship.

Moving and handling, training will be provided.

Must be mindful of the religious and cultural perceptions of the diverse populations you are likely to meet.

Candidates must be flexible, adaptable and have no sense of humour whatsoever.

Able to deal with the unexpected (previous job holder still recovering from post -plague traumatic stress).

To be patient, be discreet.

Be able to work by yourself without supervision. Lone working rules apply. You may face increased or additional risk from:

  • Inadequate provision of rest, hygiene, and welfare facilities
  • Violent thoughts and verbal abuse from members of the public
  • Sudden illness/emergencies.
  • Effects of social isolation – friends will probably drift away.

If interested please submit your CV.

 

 death-2024663__340

 2- The Grim Reaper

 I have come to accept that most people dislike me, some fear me. Must have something to do with my rather foreboding presence. For to know me you must have death. I can show no mercy? I make no judgements, can’t love or hate, emotions unfamiliar to me. I merely assist those who find themselves ready to travel to another place. I wait like a silent yet faithful companion taking your hand when you are ready to hold mine.  My touch may be cold but I steer your path as you need. Neither fair nor unfair, unmoved by pleading and prayers, no heart that beats or tears that fall. Neither ghost nor god. Tasked with lighting the way of infinite paths, no-one gets lost. There is none blacker than death that does not mean that I am evil. Shielded by my hood and cloak, not to hide but to be the same for everyone, anonymous yet enduring.  If you are looking for me and see a familiar face, you may understand me, you can put aside your fears. It maybe that you can find a terrifying countenance when you look, yet I will wait patiently in the shadows — and come for each of you in the end. Hourglass in hand, waiting for the last grain of sand to fall. When it does, I will collect your soul with a well-practiced cut of my razor-sharp blade to sever the ties that bind, no longer needed, another space and time awaits.

 

tunnel-965720__340

 

3- The Grim Reaper

I relish the many images that illustrate me, The Grim Reaper, swinging my mighty scythe through a crowd of people, mowing down souls as if they were grain. The popular notion that I am the face of death mystifies, death leads and I follow, black-cloaked, scythe wielding. Sometimes we work together interacting with the living tempting them to the grave. When we dance the Danse macabre, dancing and cavorting with people from all walks of life possibilities abound. I am diligent yet I view mankind with an impassive simplicity. People talk, tell me of their regrets, their wishes, their memories. So, this is what I have become, I am your pain, your sorrow.

I know that the things you can’t see frighten you so much more than the things you can see, so I hide within the shadows of your fears playing off your misgivings of the unknown. To make sense of dying and your mortality, you humans have relied on giving death a form that suits you. You have turned the abstract invisible phenomena that is death into something real and tangible. You have made me Grim, instilling the never-ending fear of death and departure, so why should I behave in any other way? Just as you harvest your crops, so do I harvest souls for their journey into the afterlife.

©  Judith Radbourne 2018

 

 

Advertisements

My Review of The Yellow Bills by Michelle McKenna #RBRT #TuesdayBookBlogs

 

the yellow bills
This book was submitted to Rosie’s Book Review Team#RBRT  and, as a member of the team I was given a copy of The Yellow Bills in return for an honest review.

 I gave The Yellow Bills  4* out of 5*

Book Description:

Mya loves planes and wants to be a pilot when she grows up. As luck would have it she comes across a flying school run by lieutenant Drake who awards his pupils splendid pilot hats when they graduate. Mya wants to join the class but there’s just one problem. She’s not a duck! Could Goose the little duckling with big flying ambitions be the key to Mya getting her pilot’s hat? Or will Mr Sour the teacher who never quite made the grade have other ideas…Inspired by authors such as Lewis Carroll, Roald Dahl and Angela Sommer-Bodenburg, Michelle weaves a story with the humour and invention of Nick Ward’s ‘Charlie Small’ series meets Dick King Smith’s wonder of the animal world

 My Review:  

This is a children’s book, suitable for around six to nine years. It’s a well written story of perseverance and friendship told with gentle humour, the text interspersed with lovely ink-drawn illustrations.

Mya is a strong well-rounded female protagonist with Goose as a great side-kick. Ill matched in appearance they may be, but bonded together with one aim, they make a good team.

The steadily-paced narrative is easy to follow, with just enough descriptive passages ,and the dialogue is straight-forward.

I really liked the author’s style of writing. I should imagine that many children will as well.

 And I love the brightly coloured, comical cover.

 The Yellow Bills is definitely one book I would recommend. 

Links:

Amazon.co.uk: https://amzn.to/2K3kP9U

Amazon.com: https://amzn.to/2F7Gnyy

 

AND THIS IS THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENED #thursdaythoughts @Pembrokeshire #humour

Some of you may know, as well as holding private creative writing workshops, I also tutor creative writing for the local council. Tutoring adults can be  rewarding (discovering wonderful writers), chaotic (my lesson plans are rarely followed – someone will inevitably take things off at a tangent) hilarious (the undiscovered comedian/ the completely unaware comedian) and thought-provoking (especially with memoir writing) Every now and then I like to share some of their work. Here is a piece written by Trish Power (you may remember her as one of my students whose previous work, Enigma, I posted here

As you will see, this is the same exercise that inspired  Alex Abercrombie’s poem  here .

mansion-160425__340

 

AND THIS IS THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENED

We study the expansive hall, wood buffed to a mirrored finish reflecting the framed dignitaries set at precise intervals around the walls. At the start of the tour we had chatted and laughed in between our guide’s flawless documentary. But a hush has fallen over us now as we take in the enormity of the events leading to this point. Joleen assesses us. Practised as she is in her art, she is attuned to our mood and knows when to intervene.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, shall we move on?’

She walks ahead towards the end of the hall, stopping at one of the wall panels. When everyone is assembled and she has our attention she reaches out an immaculately manicured finger and pushes on a piece of the gold scrolling.

There’s a collective intake of breath as that section of the wall swings silently inwards exposing a carpeted stairwell lit by bright, rectangular lights recessed into the edge of the ceiling.

‘Please hold on to the rail; the treads are quite steep.’

She takes a step back and ushers us ahead with a sweep of her arm.

We arrive at an area where the lighting is dimmer. Six doors lead off from a central square. There is a shuffling as we make way for Joleen to move through us to the middle door on the right. This is what we’ve been waiting for.

We enter in total silence.

In front of us is a large, rectangular table surrounded by leather chairs. In front of each chair is a file of what appears to be documents. Behind us is a huge, wall-mounted screen.

At the head of the table is a taller chair with a studded back and embellished on top with a golden eagle. There are four phones in different colours set in an arc around a rectangular metal box containing a keypad and a large, red button.

There are other things in the room but for now our focus is on that button. The red button.

‘As you all are aware, ladies and gentlemen, this is where the Secretary of Defense and a united cohort of military advisors attempted to dissuade him from his plan of action. They pointed out the likely consequences for the world but were silenced by his declaration that he was Commander-in-Chief and outranked them all. He wasn’t going to stand by and let someone say things like that about him, even if they were an ally.

‘The video cameras were checked to make sure that they were still running as he insisted on the codes being tapped into the keypad.

‘Again, he was urged not to carry on.

‘But, like a child determined on having his way, he gave a triumphant grin and stabbed a stubby finger down on that button.

‘There were sighs of resignation but the way forward was clear now. He had failed their test and proven himself to be a danger to the free world. The Secretary of Defense gave a nod and two men approached, one of them carrying something rolled-up under his arm. They slipped behind the still-smirking president, reached forwards and slipped his arms into the straightjacket.

‘And so, ladies and gentlemen, the president of the most powerful country in the world was taken into protective custody in order to safeguard our planet – and this is the room where it happened.’

 ©Trish Power 2018

AND THIS IS THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENED #thursdaythoughts @Pembrokeshire #poetrycommunity

As some of you may know, as well as holding private creative writing workshops, I also tutor creative writing for the local council. Tutoring adults can be  rewarding (discovering wonderful writers), chaotic (my lesson plans are rarely followed – someone will inevitably take things off at a tangent) hilarious (the undiscovered comedian/ the completely unaware comedian) and thought-provoking (especially with memoir writing) Every now and then I like to share some of their work.

Here is a piece written by one of my students after I set them an exercise which ended with the last line, “And this is the room where it happened.”

This is a poem by Alex Abercrombie. 

owls

 

You’re shaken awake from a jittery nap and

The mantelpiece clock shows a quarter to two.

The dog on the mat and the cat on your lap and

The owls in the attic are wakeful too.

There’s a rattle of chains and a loud ringing rap and

A creak of a door and a hullabaloo –

By the light of the moon on the cold foggy dew

A leathery, whiskery, rogue of a chap, and

A girl in a plain cotton smock and a cap and

A red woollen petticoat, float into view.

 

They say the wench brought the man down with one slap and

A knife in the ribs – though whether that’s true

Or a tall tarradiddle, I haven’t a clue.

But there are some things’ll make anyone snap and

Commit bloody murder and all – and I do

Say it’s not very nice of a toff to entrap and

Abandon a poor village lass. Don’t you?

When all that she got was a dose of the clap and

A bun in the oven (which turned into two)

And this is the room where it happened.

 © Alex Abercrombie 2018

 

 You may also like to see a prose piece on the same subject written by another student,  Trish  Power   https://judithbarrowblog.com/2018/01/17/and-this-is-the-room-where-it-happened-thursdaythoughts-pembrokeshire-humour/here

Tales of Our Holiday Lets. Or … Is it Really Worth it? Or … Tales of the Unexpected! #ThrowbackThursday

Well, yes it is worth it – we love it, despite the unexpected. Having a holiday apartment attached to our house has brought us many friends; visitors who return year after year in the summer to enjoy the lovely Pembrokeshire coastline and all the other attractions this part of West Wales offers. We love seeing them again. And we are fortunate to meet many new people as well. But there have been downsides. Or should I say, occasions that made us think again about sharing our home.

Such as the two elderly sisters …

I watched Husband walk past the kitchen window and waved. He didn’t wave back. Because of the goggles and the scarf around his nose and mouth  I couldn’t tell if he smiled or not. I thought – probably not. He wore a helmet over a balaclava on his head, navy overalls, elbow length gloves and thigh waders. He looked ridiculous but I didn’t dare laugh. This was serious. He was on a mission… a clearing the sewers mission…

Husband in a hole!

The story of the sewers began  a fortnight earlier in the shape of the two ladies. They arrived late on the Saturday evening; it was already getting dark.  Despite our assurances that it didn’t matter; that we were home anyway, they  continued to apologize profusely as we showed them to the apartment. There’d been traffic hold-ups, one of them suffered from car sickness so they’d had to stop often, they’d lost their way; gone off at the wrong junction of the M4 and ended up in Swansea.

We calmed them down, Husband offered to carry their luggage in.

‘No,’ they said, ‘we’ll be fine. You leave us to it. We haven’t much.’

They were ideal guests; the type we’d  hoped for when we started this venture.

old lady twoold lady

They were quiet, friendly, pleasant to have around.. Ever ready for a chat they sat with us in the garden a couple of the evenings enjoying a glass of wine, some nibbles. They didn’t go out much; just for one or two hours each day. Most of the time they sat on the guest patio, reading. Aged around eighty, we discovered they were twins; obviously both retired; one an ex school teacher, they other a librarian. They called us Mr and Mrs Barrow and we  called them both Miss Smith (obviously not their real name!!) They wore almost identical clothes and shoes, had the same hairstyle, finished one another’s sentences  in the same refined tones. 

When we asked if everything was all right,did they need anything , we were told all was perfect. On the middle weekend they insisted I hand over the clean  bedding and towels and changed the bed themselves. 

On the last evening we invited them in for a meal. They only stayed a couple of hours; we were told they had an early start in the morning.  Later we heard them hoovering. I knocked on the door and told them not to bother, they had a long day in front of them the following day.. Despite my protestations, they persisted for another hour.

 They must have gone very early, they’d left before we got up at seven the next day.

 Which I thought was great; it meant I could get on with the cleaning before the next visitors arrived.

It was halfway through the following week when we noticed the problem. Our new visitors complained that the loo wasn’t working properly and the bathroom was smelling. By the end of the day the kitchen sink in the apartment was backing up with unpleasant water and the lavatories in the main part of the house weren’t flushing efficiently. In fact they were overflowing!

At this point I’m wondering if I should have put a health warning on this post. Hmm?

 Trying to be as delicate as possible here!!!loo

And so to the beginning of this sorry tale… 

I watched Husband walk past the kitchen window and waved …

He stopped, came back to the window and motioned (sorry!) for me to open it. ‘I don’t suppose you want to help?’ he shouted through the scarf. I closed the window – the smell was bad. Besides I thought we should have sent for the local drains/ sewage clearing people. Being a ‘careful  with money’ man, Husband thought he could “do it himself” 

 The new visitors went out for the day with a donation from us for meals.

Without going into any more graphic detail all I can say is that the blockage was… cat litter (with the evidence!). Our two little old ladies had apparently smuggled brought their cat on holiday with them (into our “no smoking, no pets” apartment) and flushed the contents of the litter tray down the loo. Which was washed by the water along the pipes only so far before setting like cement in the drains.

Six hours later – and after much shovelling and swearing – Husband conceded defeat and we sent for the specialists. 

I connected the garden hose to the outside tap on the garage and hosed him downBefore he was allowed back into the house, he stripped off.

Which reminds me. Have I told you about the Naturists who came to stay…?

My Last Saturday Round-Up Of the Brilliant Authors #authors & Poets #poets at the Narberth Book Fair #BookFair

Titleband for Narberth Book Fair

Gathering the last of those authors and poets who joined in with the interviews to  help to show what a treat is in store at our book fair. Do please drop in to our website:   Narberth Book Fair, cleverly put together by the brilliant Thorne Moore.

There are forty authors, obviously, there are many genres for both adults and children. There will be talks an writing and books, creative writing workshops for adults: workshops & talks and fun workshops for children, activities for the children; Children’s Page and a fun book trail through Narberth, the gorgeous little market town in Pembrokeshire. Location.

All free!!

And, of course, there will be the chance to chat with all the authors and to pick their brains on all aspects of writing. Even to buy their books and have them personally signed.

There is still time to  enter the poetry competition: competition Submit a poem, in any form, of 20 lines or less, on the subject of : –

BOOKS AND READING.

Having outgrown our previous venue we have been lucky to hire the Queens Hall: https://www.thequeenshall.org.uk/ who have been very generous in their support of the event.

Although, five years ago,  I started organising the book fairs on my own I was soon joined by Alex Martin: http://amzn.to/2hZCgt2  and Thorne Moore: http://bit.ly/2rc5qyA. Unfortunately Alex has moved on to pastures new  (although is still a great supporter and, hopefully, will be with us at the fair), so Thorne and I have been joined by Elizabeth Sleight. Elizabeth is involved in the charity we are supporting through our raffle; The Harriet Davis Seaside Holiday Trust For Disabled Children: http://bit.ly/2sNyeKQ . 

The line up so far:

Judith Barrow

Thorne Moore

Juliet Greenwood

Graham Watkins

Rebecca Bryn

Helen Williams

Sally Spedding

Katy Whateva

Sara Gethin

Cheryl Rees-Price

Jackie Biggs

Judith Arnopp

Colin R Parsons

Kate Murray

Hugh Roberts

Carol Lovekin

Catherine Marshall

Tracey Warr

Steve Thorpe

Wendy Steele

I must say I’ve enjoyed interviewing all the poets and authors and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them. There will still be plenty of news about the book fair over the next few weeks. In the meantime, do think about entering the competition and don’t forget to put your name down for any of the workshops; numbers are limited.
Titleband for Narberth Book Fair

My Series of Authors & Poets Interviews #author #poet Narberth Book Fair#BookFair. Today with Sharon Tregenza #MondayBlogs

Titleband for Narberth Book Fair

Throughout this months I ’ll be posting interviews with the authors and poets who will be taking part in our Book Fair:  http://www.narberthbookfair.co.uk/.

There are forty authors, so, obviously, there are many genres for both adults and children. There will be talks an writing and books, creative writing workshops for adults  workshops & talks and fun workshops for children, activities for the children  Children’s Page and a fun book trail through Narberth, the gorgeous little market town in Pembrokeshire.  Location.

All free!!

And, of course, there will be the chance to chat with all the authors and to pick their brains on all aspects of writing. Even to buy their books and have them personally signed.

And, as usual, there will also be the writing competition: this year is a poetry competition:  competition . Submit a poem, in any form, of 20 lines or less, on the subject of : –

BOOKS AND READING.

Having outgrown our previous venue we have been lucky to hire the Queens Hall: https://www.thequeenshall.org.uk/ who have been very generous in their support of the event.

Although, five years ago,  I started organising the book fairs on my own I was soon joined by Alex Martin: http://amzn.to/2hZCgt2  and Thorne Moore: http://bit.ly/2rc5qyA. Unfortunately Alex has moved on to pastures new  (although is still a great supporter), so Thorne and I have been joined by Elizabeth Sleight. Elizabeth is involved in the charity we are supporting through our raffle; The Harriet Davis Seaside Holiday Trust For Disabled Children: http://bit.ly/2sNyeKQ . 

Our author today is my great friend and children’s writer, Sharon Tregenza

Sharon Tregenza

Tell us, Sharon, why do you write?

I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t write, I’ve been doing it for so long now.

What book that you have read has most influenced your life?

I can’t honestly say there’s been a book that has influenced my life – that sounds a bit grand. There have been a few books that may have influenced my writing.

If you could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you choose?

‘Holes’ by Louis Sacher. It’s a master class in layering and stitching together bits of myth and magic to create a fascinating whole.

Do you have any writing rituals?

I get something to physically embody the story. For instance, I’m writing another children’s mystery – this time about the trapping of songbirds so I bought myself a pretty glass greenfinch to hang in my study.

What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

Work schedule? Ha. Haha. Hahaha. 

Stop laughing, Hahahaha…  I’m only asking the questions!! 

Tarantula Tide 2008 (Kelpies)

 How many books have you written? Which is your favourite?

I’ve written five. Three are published one seems to be going by the wayside and the fifth I’m tweaking now. My favourite? Probably ‘The Jewelled Jaguar’ as it’s the most recently published.

What genre do you consider your books? Have you considered writing in another genre?

My books are for Middle Grade (8-12). I’m working on a couple of picture books though and if I chose another genre it would be cosy murders – you know, Miss Marple kind of thing. They seem like they’d be fun to write.

 In three words, can you describe your latest book?

Children’s – adventure – mystery.

What is your favourite part of the book?

The ending. I’ve must have read and rewritten it umpteen times but it still makes me well up. How sad is that. Haha.

If you could spend time with a character from your book who would it be? And what would you do during that day?

I’d spend time with Rhodri Tudor because he’s a dude. He’s smart and kind and funny and plays folk guitar.

Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of things do they say?

I do. Because they’re kids they say the sweetest things and it always lifts my heart. They’re the harshest critics too mind. You don’t want to short change them, trust me. 

The Shiver Stone

 Do you have any hidden or uncommon talents?

If they’re hidden it’s because I want ‘em to stay that way.  😉

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I like to secretly connect words or characters in some way just for my own entertainment. Often I don’t mention the connections to anyone. For instance in the book I’m working on now (which will be called The Black Peacock) I’ve given all the characters names related to birds (Damn – I’ve told you that secret now. J)

 What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

Socialise (preferably with wine) read and listen to stories, exercise.

What is the most amusing thing that has ever happened to you? Not particularly to do with your writing?

Oh, good grief. How long have you got? If I had to pick one quickly it might be when I visited Egyptian friends in Cairo and was given a bowl of melted ice cream as the Muezzin called the faithful to prayer from the Minaret outside and Benny Hill blasted out of their TV set.

 Give us a random fact about yourself.

I LOVE quirky properties. I’ve lived in part of a church, an old Mill House and am now in a converted chapel. I’m about to downsize so who knows what’s next? Windmill?

 Sharon’s Links:

 website
Facebook
Twitter