Cross-posted from the Wirral Globe at:- http://www.wirralglobe.co.uk/blogs/booksblog/adelecosgrovebray/display.var.2164879.0.wirral_bookfest.php

Wirral holds its very first literary festival between 7th and 12th of April, brought to you by Wirral Libraries and partially funded by the Arts Council, but also linked to Wirral Council’s “Culture for All” campaign and supported by the Liverpool Culture Company as part of the European Capital of Culture 2008 festival.

There are over twenty different events taking place, including a “Writing for TV” workshop, screenings by Birkenhead Film Society, a celebration of Greasby in poetry, two graphic novels workshops, an evening with Count Dracula and performances from Wirral members of Liverpool’s acclaimed Dead Good Poets.

There are opportunities to meet writers such as Chris Tutton, Anne Baker, Brian Jacques and Shoo Rayner, Jojo Moyes, Mike Gayle, Jenny Colgan, Ray O’Brien, John Siddique and Wirral’s own Young Poet Laureate, Holly Green.

Riverside Writers will present Words from Wordsmiths at 7pm on Monday, April 7th at West Kirby Library. Nine members of this long-established writing group will perform at tightly-packed programme of diverse readings of original poetry and fiction. Tim Hulme will read his hilarious The Missing Muffin, which has previously been broadcast on Radio Merseyside. Joanna McIlhatton, who has recently had a cookery book published, will read her monologue called Look Out. I will be reading Seagull Inn, a ghost story set on Hilbre Island, which was published in the Ruins Terra anthology (pbs. Hadley Rille Books).

Free tickets for Words from Wordsmiths will be available from West Kirby Library on the night. Refreshments will also be available.

For more information about the entire events programme for Wirral BookFest, venues and disabled access telephone 0151 639 2334 or visit on-line at:- http://www.wirral.gov.uk/bookfest

4.20pm, and finally I get to read this morning’s mail…!

Ruins Terra, which features my ghost story, Seagull Inn, is now available to buy from http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ruins-Terra-Eric-T-Reynolds/dp/0978514858/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1195054793&sr=8-2

Buy your copy today & post a review on Amazon or LJ (or both!) ASAP!!!

Within a few days, it ought to be also available from Amazon.com (the USA site). The information is already there, albeit with several errors. Eric Reynolds is the editor, not the author; and it is not a print-on-demand publication. This should be ironed out soon.

Also, Old World Magic has been accepted for inclusion in an anthology called Ruins Metropolis, to be published by Hadley Rille Books. This story returns to the theme of the Caldy Hill faeries, who you can read about in A Wirral Otherkin Trilogy (pbs. Amazon Shorts).

So, what else is new?

Richard, Mum and I enjoyed dinner at The Waterside, in Leigh, Lancashire, on Monday. The weather looked ominously grey, so we cancelled a wander round the small town and went straight back to Mum’s house. She’s been busy in the garden, cramming more plants into the already-full greenhouse in preparation for winter. She’s always loved gardening, and grows a lot of her own salad greens and tomatoes.

For the first time in days the howling gales and torrential rain were absent, allowing me to finish burning a huge pile of garden cuttings. At last it’s nearly done! There’s a few large branches which Richard will have to saw up before they’ll fit in the brazier, plus the old raspberry canes which we’ve dug up – and then the job is done for now. (Round two is to follow!) This took up most of today, believe it or not.

http://www.wirralglobe.co.uk/blogs/booksblog/adelecosgrovebray/display.var.1587938.0.haunted_hilbre.php

The above link will carry you off to my latest post on the Wirral Globe, which talks about Hilbre Island, site of several of my stories including Seagull Inn and Spanish Jones.

I thought I'd offer you some photos to give you a better idea of the site, which is arrived at by waiting for the Irish Sea to turn tide and leave an expanse of wide, flat sand exposed. Leaving the mainland at West Kirby behind, visitors walk first to Little Eye, which is a grassy tussock clinging to rock (usually) above sea level. Then walkers turn right and move parallel to the mainland as they trek over a vast area of wide sand to Middle Eye, a bigger island surrounded by umpteen rock pools festooned with seaweed and barnacles. Hilbre Island itself is beyond Middle Eye.


This first photo shows the journey from West Kirby out to Little Eye, which can seen on the horizon just above the four people. In the centre of the horizon is Middle Eye and Hilbre. In this photo it looks like they're joined. They're not; there's quite a long walk between them.

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http://www.hadleyrillebooks.com/ have now announced the contents for their forthcoming anthology, Ruins: Terra, which will feature my ghost story, Seagull Inn.

This post is reproduced from my reply at The Muse's Mouth. I'll put it behind an LJ cut, as it will probably only interest writers.

The Muse's Mouth is primarily for writers living in NW England, but writers from elsewhere (or anyone who's interested in those writers) can join too. To join, simply send an email to:- the_muses_mouth-subscribe@yahoogroups.com


On The Muse's Mouth, Eric asked: “When you are beginning a new story, how do you get started?”

My response:-
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Did you miss me?!!

I’ve been busy (noooooo!), as my niece came to stay with us for four days. The dogs did so enjoy taking her for walks. In fact, Ygraine was so eager to show her the ponds beside the boardwalk along West Kirby beach that the poor girl narrowly missed being dragged face-first into the water.

Having strolled the length of Meols Drive, my niece decided that being a multi-millionaire offers certain advantages when it comes to house-buying. We have chosen the ones we want, once we’ve made our fortunes. Forward planning is always advisable, don’t you think?

And we discovered that Wirral has totem poles. Well, one, anyway. This was within the enclosed Walled Garden at Royden Hall. (If you wish to read about that, scoot over to my spot on the Wirral Globe.) There were numerous other sculptures too, and if you wish to see more photos just click on one of the images here and view the Wirral photo set on my Flickr site which you’ll be automatically taken to.

Oh, and we watched a few films: Alexander the Great with Colin Farrell and Jared Leto (who a certain young lady is rather impressed with); Evil Aliens, which she hated and which we thought was hilarious; Beloved, which is one of my favourites; and one of her personal favourites, The Phantom of the Opera, the musical with Gerard Butler, which she happily sang along with word-for-word.

“So,” she asked, “would you marry (whatisname) or the phantom?”

“The phantom, definitely,” I said. “He seems much more fun than the other bloke.”

“That’s what my mum says too.”

“He lives in a sewer,” said Richard, wrinkling his nose. “He’d stink.”

Hmm, that would be distressing. And also puzzling, as how is it that his stealthy presence in the opera house was not swiftly revealed by wafts of the distinctive associated pong?

Next: a shopping spree round Grand Central, of course! For those not in the know (and after all, why should you be?) this is a collection of small shops dedicated to gothic/alternative clothes, accessories and gadgets, all housed in what used to be a hotel. While she bought a funny hat, the seller asked her if she was going to Glastonbury this year.

“Oh, she’s too young,” I said, in full-blown Aunt Adele mode.

He asked her, “How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” came her reply.

He quipped, “That’s old enough for Glastonbury! Old enough to drink, to vote, to get married…”

“Oh, don’t encourage her,” I replied, laughing.

He nodded his head happily. “I get it; ‘While you’re under my roof you’ll live by my rules.’ That’s what my ma always said to me. So when I was nineteen I left home.”

“Yeah, me too!” (But that’s different, isn’t it?!!)

Soooooooo, having waved her off on her train journey home, I returned to the task of editing and polishing Seagull Inn in time for the submissions deadline of April 15th. Having achieved that, the next task was to begin writing a story for another deadline, on the set subject of mirrors. I had the opening line of, “He had a new haircut, a cheap suit and old shoes…”, and everything flowed smoothly from there until Mirror was born. Imaginative title, hmm? But it suits it, so what the heck. The deadline for this one isn’t until June 15th, but I like to give myself time to tweak with an MS before I send it sailing towards a prospective publisher.

You are invited to join in with a debate about TV viewing here: http://2e0dtoeric.livejournal.com/5536.html

Read a beautiful poem about Alexander the Great and Bagoas here: http://rothalion.livejournal.com/49459.html

This morning, the synopsis and first three chapters of Tamsin were emailed to the submissions department of a prospective publisher. All I have to do now is wait for half a century until someone deigns to read it!

I’m still waiting to hear back from another prospective publisher regarding A Wirral Otherkin Trilogy, which is a trio of short Dark Fantasy/Folklore stories.

The 3000-word Seagull Inn is currently undergoing tweaking and polishing, in preparation for submission to an anthology, (deadline April 15th).

And I’m still recovering from the biggest chocolate and vanilla ice-cream sundae, with chopped nuts and brandy snaps and runny chocolate drizzles that I’ve ever encountered! Slimming it wasn’t, but scrumptious it most definitely was. Neither I nor Mum could finish the entire dessert. Poor Richard could only look on, over the expanse of plain apple pie which he’d chosen.

This was yesterday, in the Waterside Inn in Leigh, which stands beside the Manchester Ship Canal, the historical waterway which joins Manchester to Liverpool and the Irish Sea. Back in the Victorian era of wealthy cotton mills and coal mines, this canal provided a vital route for import and export. Now it’s used mainly for tourism. The mills stand empty, unless they’ve already been converted into luxury apartments. The coal mines were closed during the Thatcher years. And Leigh, like many mining towns, never really recovered from the loss of traditional industries. Many shops are empty or derelict – yet the entrance to Pennington Park glowed yellow with cheerful daffodils, and the gnarled old magnolia trees holding aloft their stately pink and white blooms stand as a testament to tenacious local pride.

Our two dogs took us for an enjoyable woodland walk around Frankby at the weekend. (Yes, I know it’s now nearly next weekend but I’ve been busy, ok?!!) There were carpets of snowdrops under the trees. A friendly pony came to say hello when we trudged along the muddy path beside his field. Emily was terrified of the bewildered creature, and hid behind Richard’s feet.

Emily is still learning to walk on the lead properly. She’s got the general idea but is distracted by scents very easily, and noisy traffic unnerves her. She has a habit of stopping dead, which consequently means that whoever’s walking her has to be ready to do likewise or else nearly fall over her.

We called in to The Farmer’s Arms, but escaped to the garden rather than struggle to talk over the exuberant crowd of football enthusiasts who were happily yelping and yowling at the big TV screen. (Fear not, I’ll resist the temptation to launch into one of my diatribes about boring sport!)



I’ve now finished the first draft of a short story set on Hilbre Island, called Seagull Inn. The finished MS is intended for submission to an anthology whose brief requested pieces with a strong emphasis on history and archaeology.

(Insert conversation with Slightly Dippy Person: “But history didn’t exist when they put the archaeology there!”)

Anyway, trying to segue factual information into a story without turning that story into a history lecture is no mean feat. People read fiction primarily for entertainment, after all! Consequently, it took me approximately a week to produce 3000 words – pathetically slow, by my usual standards. Maybe I was just trying too hard, as the very act of over-concentrating can raise a barrier to many things, creativity included.

Anyhoooow, permit me to introduce an old friend of mine who has recently opened a journal here on LJ! Actor, playwright, film director and drama class teacher, and all-round fine lady – meet gelertandbess Go say hi!