Friday, October 26, 2007

Comments on this Blog

I've just had to turn off the anonymous comments on my Blog after getting a spate of them that are basically just trolling. (An Internet troll, or simply troll in Internet slang, is someone who intentionally posts controversial or pointless messages with the sole intention of baiting users into an argumentative response.) Even though I moderate all comments, I quite frankly can't be bothered to waste my time even reading such comments, so if you're not a registered user of, you won't be able to comment on this Blog. I apologise for any inconvenience this may cause but I don't see why I should have to read insulting comments.

Poetry Friday 68

Yesterday was St Crispin's Day, so here is the St Crispin's Day speech from Henry V by Shakespeare:

This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

The Poetry Friday round up is over at Literary Safari

Friday, October 19, 2007

Poetry Friday 68

I'm back with more Shakespeare this week (sorry about last week's no-show - personal stuff got in the way of everything last Friday). This week I've got "Under the Greenwood Tree":

Under the Greenwood Tree

Amiens sings:
UNDER the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Jaques replies:
If it do come to pass
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdamè, ducdamè, ducdamè:
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to me.

This week's Poetry Friday round-up will be hosted by Kelly Fineman.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Personal News

October is Breast Cancer Awareness week, and today I found out that my mum (who had a brain tumour removed last year) has been diagnosed with DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ). She'll be going into hospital for an operation to remove it on November 15 - an overnight stay only.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Mirrorscape Competition

Egmont Press have launched a competition in conjunction with The Telegraph newspaper to celebrate the publication of Mike Wilks' new novel Mirrorscape on October 1. If you go to Telegraph Promotions you will find a link to "Find the Snail for your chance to win £5,000".

Mike Wilks' trademark is to include a snail in all of his paintings and so to celebrate the publication of his stunning debut fantasy adventure, Mirrorscape, Mike has hidden a snail in an exclusive version of the Map of Vlam which illustrates the setting of the novel. Visitors who follow the Telegraph link will be taken to an online version of the map where you can use the zoom feature to navigate round the map to find the snail.

In Mirrorscape, Melkin Womper, son of a village weaver, fulfils the dream of a lifetime and is apprenticed to a master painter, Ambrosius Blenk. In keeping with the story Egmont Press is launching this competition to help a young person fulfil one of their dreams for the future. Those who find the snail will automatically be entered into the prize draw to win £5,000 to be spent on Premium Bonds in the name of a child (or split between children) of their choice, or in your own name if you are 17 or under. All entries must be received by 5th November 2007.

There's also a Mirrorscape website which features an utterly addictive game.

Poetry Thursday: National Poetry Day

It's National Poetry Day here in the UK, so I'm doing Poetry Friday as Poetry Thursday. And this week I bring you Shakespeare (again) - and some lines from Henry V:

I am a king that find thee, and I know
'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball,
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
The farced title running 'fore the king,
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
That beats upon the high shore of this world,
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave,
Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind
Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
Never sees horrid night, the child of hell,
But, like a lackey, from the rise to set
Sweats in the eye of Phoebus and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn,
Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
And follows so the ever-running year,
With profitable labour, to his grave:
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.
The slave, a member of the country's peace,
Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots
What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
Whose hours the peasant best advantages.

William Shakespeare, Henry V Act IV, scene I

This week's round up will be at Whimsy Books tomorrow.