Greetings from Bath - Jane Austen is taking over my blog today!

Thanks to Sally Quilford for giving me the idea of having a guest blogger today in honour of her birthday celebrations. You see, she is taking a day off from her blog, handing it over to a guest writer, so she invited everyone who heard about it to do the same. Being such a follower, I thought, great idea Sally! So today I'm inviting guest blogger, Jane Austen, to publish her thoughts on Bath. Over to Jane:

It's great to have the time to write a few words to you, my dear readers. I've been so engaged with the doings of the servants and have just seen to the sending off of one to the prison hulks in London. I believe a likely result for his stealing food from the kitchens of ourselves and our goodly neighbours will be a rather long voyage to...where was that again? Oh, Van Dieman's Land, Botany Bay, that convict colony somewhere at the bottom of the Earth! Yes, I did hear something about such a quaint idea of getting rid of the light-fingered classes.


But I digress. To begin, I think it is a truth universally acknowledged that the reader in possession of a good book gains further pleasure from knowing where the author lived and found inspiration. To this end, I wish to acquaint you with Bath, which you will find mentioned more than once in my writings.

4 Sydney Place, Bath.

Myself, I've been quite busy lately with the move to Bath accompaning my dear parents and sister. We are comfortably settled into our lodgings in 4 Sydney Place, but, in truth, I am deeply unhappy here. I anticipate an imprisonment myself of many months.

I have visited Bath before today, twice, to be precise - in '97 and '98, when I was scarcely in my 20s. I found Bath tolerable both times, but to me Bath is a city to visit, not to live in. Why, you may ask?

The Abbey

Dear reader, Bath as a city is beautiful, with unequalled Georgian architectural style and a comely setting. As you know, it is the principal health and holiday resort in England,  second only to London in importance. But in a city so elegant, there is an incessant social whirl. I confess I find the endless dances, concerts, taking the waters, taking tea and parties such a trial.

The Roman Baths

 I so miss my life in the country. I console myself that I am here for my dear father's health and therefore must show fortitude in the many days, months, years, that lie ahead. This cannot stop my irritation when each morning we receive another invitation for another tedious party. Here I am forced to endure nonsense conversation with scarcely any wit. This is my lot. For myself, I cannot look around me without finding an occasion to laugh out loud, but my countenance must appear serene at all times. Thank God for the fan!

Tea at the Pump Room

My personality will not allow me to fall into the vapours, however. I find I have no other choice but to use my time wisely. At night I must endure the social rounds, but the mornings belong to me. I find my writing is blossoming with such endless material gleaned each night. I am currently working on a main character, Anne Elliot, who will share my dislike of Bath and will become a worthy mouthpiece for me and my prejudices. I am thinking of calling it Persuasion. In it I will include Lyme Regis where we have holidayed. Such a lively town and quite close by. 

Lyme Regis

With my busy social life and my care of my father, I fear Persuasion will languish for many years before I lay my quill aside.

The Royal Crescent

So, dear readers, be patient with me. If not for socialising in Bath, I should be able to write so much more, but on the other hand, Bath has given me so much to burlesque. My mother and my sister Cassandra have discussed with me our future, and we have settled on Chawton in Hampshire after daddy leaves this world. Such a delightful home will allow me to spend endless quiet days writing at leisure in between reviving walks in the countryside. I have three novels to be finished and edited, Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, and Northanger Abbey and I have hopes of writing at least three more, including one I will call Persuasion. 

Occasionally, I dance

Until next post,
I remain,
Yours sincerely,

Jane

Blog Takeover Day - Wednesday August 11th - a different kind of blogfest

Sally Quilford from over at Quiller's Place had this great idea to celebrate her birthday. It's not the first time she's run this Blog Takeover day. Due to its success she does it every year. I've decided to take part so watch out for a funky post tomorrow, Wednesday! Here's the details in case you'd like to participate. Please do. The more the merrier!


Sally says:

I've been reading The Lost Blogs, which is a funny book about the lost blogs of famous historical folk (didn't know Moses kept a blog? Well you do now) Now obviously I can't call my little challenge the 'lost blogs' idea as I'd get sued...


So I'm calling it Blog Takeover Day, and inviting everyone to join me, for one day only, in letting someone else take over your blog for the day on Wednesday 11th August. Now this doesn't mean handing the keys to someone else and letting them post and have access to all your blogger files. What it means is you posting a blog post on your blog 'written' by someone other than yourself.

SUGGESTIONS:

• Someone famous (and I'd stick to dead to avoid law suits if I were you), or
• A fictional character you've created (perhaps to promote something you've got published?).
• It can be set in the past or future(I realise the date stamps on blogs won't show that, but you could probably allude to various things in the blog post to show it is in a different era).

The important thing is that it's not you. It's up to you whether you put up one long post or a series of posts throughout the day, as long as they're by your chosen person and not by you. It's also up to you whether you use 50 words or 500 words. Of course, when you revert to posting as yourself again is entirely up to you.

The only rule is that it must have all the makings of a proper blog post, not a short story, so you/your chosen character might allude to their earlier blogs (which you don't have to write, don't worry), they might link to other sites, or share pictures. But they're only giving a snapshot of their lives. In short, a genuine looking blog post.

Then send the link to me (that is Sally, use the link at the top,) either in the comments on my blog or by email to squilford(at)gmail(dot)com and I'll put them altogether in one post and send peeps your way. Naturally I won't link to anything sexist, racist, homophobic or hate-fuelled of any kind etc, unless it's clear from the blog post that those prejudices/behaviours are being condemned.

So, remember, Wednesday 11th August 2010 is Blog Takeover Day. Join me in helping to put some smiles back on a few faces. If for some reason you want to take part, but can't do it on Wednesday, don't worry. Join in anyway, when you can and still send me the link. Or if you don't have a blog but have been directed here from my Twitter page, what about doing a Twitter Takeover Day? (it's given me an idea to combine the two).


I know it's short notice, but just think of it as the bit of fun it is, and not a serious writing project.

So bloggers, would you like to be someone else for the day?

High Drama Blogfest - Where are the fire trucks?

Thanks to DLHammons at Cruising Altitude for hosting the High Drama Blogfest/Giveaway.

This is a story I began after the horrendous Victorian bushfires twelve months ago here in Australia. It was hard to write, but I felt compelled. Many people who lived in the serene hill towns outside of Melbourne perished, as tremendous fires destroyed these heavily-timbered towns.

I begin my 500-extract when the MC, Jilly, had just spoken to the fire authority and alerted them to a fire in her area. One of the problems with the Victorian fires was the lack of responsiveness/resources of the fire-fighting authorities. Many perished because of this. Read on…

Her Fire Plan? Jilly slammed the phone down. Oh, God! She was horrified to see the smoke had grown from a whisp to a red twister. The red-orange-black flames were skittering along the ground gobbling the brown grasses and spitting out black stubble. A stiff breeze whipped the flames higher and higher. One good thing -the fire’s direction was away from her house, heading for the opposite ridge.

But she knew the wind could change a fire in a heartbeat.

The gigantic wall of flame was growing before her eyes like a giant genie free from its bottle. She felt an icy creepiness throughout her body even though the temperature was at boiling point.

Where are the fire trucks?

Her knowledge of fires wouldn’t fill a water glass. She’d only just arrived from the city seeking peace and serenity. But even the rawest city slicker knew that water meant salvation. Thankfully the dam just down the hill was still half full from the previous season’s rains, the pump was primed, ready. C’mon. She dashed to the dam and checked the possibilities—did she have enough hose to saturate the house and fill the gutters? Running back up the hill, she clipped a hose to the back outdoor tap and tested it with a few squirts. Fine.

Okay, I have water.

Where…are…the fire trucks?

Running to the front of the house, she was mesmerised by smoke whirling up the hill in her direction like an unwelcome visitor. Oh my Lord! The wind had changed, the fire was coming. A wall of flame was heading her way, galloping across the paddocks like a terrified pack of brumbies. Eucalyptus trees exploding. Animals screaming. Fireballs searing the sky. She was in Dante’s Inferno.

How could fire change so quickly?

She knew she was supposed to go or stay, but she hadn’t thought the fire was going to threaten her. There’d been no warnings. But now it was coming. The power lines were on fire, the wires swinging. Flying cinders were whirling through the sky. It was too late to make a choice—the fire had made it for her. The ferocious blaze was already leap-frogging the valley road and licking its way through her paddock. Escape was impossible.

I’m a survivor. A fire can’t beat me.


Fear got her adrenaline pumping. She ran to the hose. She had to wet everything before the fire reached the dam and wrecked the pump. It was approaching at a terrifying speed.

She dashed inside, wet a towel and wrapped it around her head, covering her mouth. The water pressure was low, but Jilly managed to coax enough out to do the job. She watched as the flames continued their destructive path uphill, well-feulled by the dry summer grasses, dead trees and undergrowth. As she hosed, she looked around in panic. Where could she go? Where could she hide? All she could hear was the cracking of exploding trees and the loud whoosh of the flames as they shattered everything in their path. Everything was on fire. Everything was turning black. Everything was over.

She was surrounded.

Where…are…the…fire…trucks..?

To be continued...

Now off you go to read more high drama stories here.

©Denise Covey, 2010

Look out! Handwriting Tag! I've never been blog-tagged, have you?

G'day! As our fingers are made for tapping rather than grabbing a pen and paper these days, some bright spark came up with this tag. You have to actually WRITE IN PEN ON PAPER! Phew! Well, I actually love to write longhand (is that what it's still called?) so Tessa at Tessa's Blurb, I really don't mind being tagged. Unfortunately, there's always rules! Here is what I (and you if I tag you) have to handwrite:

1. Your name/Blog's name
2. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
3. What are your favorite letters to write?
4. What are your least favourite letters to write?
5. Write: "The quick, brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."
6. In CAPS, write: "BABOON, SPLENDOR, ONOMATOPOEIA, FLIP-FLOPS, HUZZAH!"
7. Your favorite song lyrics are?
8. Make sure you tag 7 people to join in on the fun. =)
9. Tickle your fancy and add a special quip for us to enjoy. =)

9. So I forgot this one. Back to typing. A quip: Well, not really, I'm in a rush. And I love to bend the rules. Here's a few lines from a bubbly little poem:

Can you hear the stream flow

Forever running free?

My laughter's in the ripples

And bubbles eternally

So there's nowhere to hide. I hereby tag the following lovelies:

1. Loveablehomebody Ashley Ashbee
2. Flutey Words - Aubrie
3. Helen M Hunt - Fiction is Stranger than fact
4. Selma @ Selma in the city
5. Francine @ Romancing the blog
6. Pamela Jo @ Theres just life
7. Inkcrush - Nomes

So, go on now. Accept the tag and get writing!

Winter Strolling Around Brisbane

I needed a break from all the writing, so I decided to go for a lovely stroll on Sunday. Was another perfect winter's day here in Brisbane (26.5 degrees Celsius/79 degrees F), so the great outdoors were calling. I've enjoyed the occasional photo essay from blogger friends, so I thought I'd share my day with you. Grab a coffee or tea and join me...

We really do have kangaroos in the street Down Under, so my first stop was to make sure they had their winter woollies on.

Then it was across to the Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA), just across the river, to catch the last day of the Ron Mueck exhibition. Luckily I'd bought my ticket online as the queues snaked all the way through the Cultural Centre. Mueck is a London-based Australian artist. If you ever get a chance to see his scarily lifelike sculptures, you'll be blown away by his talent. So astounding. Being an Aussie, I'll put up his man on air mattress. Everything was perfect, right down to the odd scuff on the knee.

After the exhibition it was time for a coffee and French pastry with my friend Sarah. Rather yummy.

To walk off some of the above, we strolled through the graceful bouganvilla walk on South Bank. The light and shade was beautiful.

Then a lovely breather in the Botanical Gardens at South Bank.

Looking up, I saw a splendid little gum (eucalyptus) tree, so very Australian.

                                               

Can you feel the sunshine

Warm upon your skin?

I am the very sun itself,

The love you feel within.

Nearly home, I decided I needed more sun, so I sat in my favourite nook in the bridge near my digs, watched the sparkling water, the ferries, inhaled the peace, then caught up on the latest stories in That's Life Magazine. Unfortunately, none of mine were in this issue. Several of my blogger friends' stories were. I was chuffed to see their names. Rule Brittania!

                                           

Home again. I enjoyed a tantalising champagne with hibiscus flower and syrup on the deck. No better way to end a winter's odyssey.

We all need a break from quill and pen sometimes. How do you spend a glorious winter's day? Or summer's day?