Just as soon as I get my laptop to a wifi connection…

Good afternoon,

Having a bit of a lazy day today since my back is bad again. But I have managed to get a bit of writing done. I went out yesterday afternoon to a place that does children’s parties. Not because I’m weird, mostly groups of children irritate me, no, it was my godson’s birthday party. And since the venue is in a tourist town I thought I’d review it, for anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in Cleethorpes on a wet day. I shall probably post my review on Saturday.

Other than that I’ve been for a walk, did some of my computer course work and finished reading ‘The Black Butterfly’ by Mark Gatiss. And eaten six Cadbury’s Creme Eggs – which is not something I recommend anyone doing. I feel quite unwell now 😦

Bye,

Rose

My Chemical Romance split

During my early morning Facebook and Twitter check yesterday (yeah, yeah, I know, but I couldn’t sleep) I heard that MCR had split up. Now these sort of rumours appear all the time about various bands so my first thought was ‘hoax’, but then I checked their website for news and the Kerrang! blog.

‘Tis a great shame, and rather unexpected, since I’d heard they were working on some new songs. I’d hoped to see them live next year. It’s no secret that until mid-2011 I had no interest whatsoever in music, it had just never been a part of my world, but now it is. MCR was/is one of my favourites. I like everything they’ve done.

I know people who have been fans for years, who say MCR saved them and who have their own preferred eras; it’s quite interesting that some people seem to prefer the album they heard first. I feel that in coming to them late, after they put out Danger Days, it means that rather than comparing an album to the one before, or a favourite, I’ve been able to see each album as the distinct entities they are, rather than having an expectation of more of the same. I can hear the transition between ‘Black Parade’ and ‘Danger Days’ in ‘Conventional Weapons’, and the increased polish between ‘Bullets’ and ‘Revenge’. Each album is enjoyable in it’s own right, yet all have the same message of hope to those in pain.

Decried as dangerous by tabloids and insulted as ’emo’, this band paired introspection and emotional lyrics with an almost punk aggression in their style of performing. They started out quite dark in song content and band imagery but changed and, importantly the music continually evolved as the Way’s and their friends grew up and changed themselves.

In the last twelve years MCR have made some memorable music. I personally love ‘Thank you for the venom’, ‘I’m not okay’ and ‘Boy Division’ as well as ‘Na, Na, Na (Na, Na, Na)’ and ‘Welcome to The Black Parade’. The lyrics are powerful and occasionally make me cry, for the pain the writer must have gone through to write something so beautiful, and for those who have been brought back from the brink by the music. For all that the videos for ‘Danger Days’ are in the same melancholic vein as their earlier work, the songs themselves never fail to make me smile. I love the graphic nature of the songs and the strong imagery they evoke.

But my opinion on My Chemical Romance’s musical style and image is not important right now; what I want to say is My Chemical Romance were one of the first bands I was ever a fan of, one of the first bands in who’s members I ever took an interest beyond ‘that sounds good, I suppose’. The music they made means a lot to me, and has been a great help to me at times. The band and their music also mean a great deal to some of my closest friends (including my 5 year old godson who, when I went to visit, announced before I had my coat off, ‘Rosie, we have bad news; MCR have split’; apparently he wailed when he was told by his mum. He’d wanted to go to see them next time they toured, his favourite song is ‘Sing’ and he adores the videos for ‘Danger Days’).

So, I’d like to thank them for the music.
And MCRmy/Killjoys; ‘You get a lifetime’, make the best of it. Keep going; they’re still living and creating so we will hear from them again, just maybe not as MCR.

Bye

Rose

I really should finish reading what I’ve started first, but still…

This morning I took my nephew to the library to get some more books and to take my book back. I had no intention of getting another book, since I still have two other books to finish reading, but then I saw this book, ‘The Wisdom of the Shire’ by Noble Smith.

I don’t generally go in for ‘self-help’ books but I have a thing for the works of JRR Tolkien and the book seemed to be a different take on the whole world of Middle Earth. So I’m going to read it. But first I’m going to follow Mr Smith’s advice and get some sleep because I’m tired.

I’ll let you know what I think of the book when I finish it. Have a nice afternoon, and I hope you’re all safely in your Hobbit-holes nice and warm in this cold weather.

Bye,

Rose

I’m awake rediculously early…so I’m going to write.

Unless I’m going somewhere I’m not usually awake at this time on a Saturday morning but today I can’t sleep. I’m on call at work and it messes with my sleep patterns. Anyway, since I’m awake I thought I’d make a blog post. For the fun of it.

Yesterday I got all the stuff I’d written on the train to Nottingham and back typed up. It turned out to be quite a substantial amount of writing. I don’t know why but I find it quite easy to write while I’m on the train, especially if I get a table seat. I can spread myself out and just write. I think the motion of the train must be relaxing, and for me at least the novelty still hasn’t worn off.

Am I the only one who finds trains conducive to writing, any type of writing?

There’s a great tumblr blog, prompts-and-pointers.tumblr.com, that I follow and on Sunday I wrote down one of their prompts in my notebook. It kept me busy on the train, I came up with three possible short stories. I started on the first one on Monday and continued it quite easily yesterday, once I’d got everything I’d scribbled in my notebook typed up. I think its about 3,300 words long now and maybe half finished. I had an idea to work on all three story ideas and compare the results at the end.

I’m going to have to go for another train ride soon.

I’m actually going to attempt to sleep for a while now,

Bye

Rose

Still recovering from a Halestorm!

Just a quick post, because I still feel like I’m hungover even though I didn’t drink last night. I understand this feeling is referred to as the bangover. Whatever name it has it’s exhausting, but worth it.

Last night Halestorm showed why they are the exception to my ‘I don’t like female metal/rock bands/singers’ rule. I honestly find most female singers too ‘screechy’ – their voices are too high pitched and have the same effect on me as nails on a chalkboard. Lzzy Hale on the other hand has a lovely voice.

I’ll tell you all about it and review the whole concert, including the two support acts, when I’m feeling human again, can get my notes in order and can get my laptop to a WiFi connection.
Bye

Rose

This is me.

In case anyone ever wondered, which I doubt, this it me. (Picture taken by Miss A. Curtis) I was outside the Sherlock Holmes Museum in Baker Street, London (see previous posts for details of my adventures in London last weekend). I’m not too fond of having my picture taken, so it took quite a bit of persuasion by my friends for me to accede to their request that I pose.

The museum’s great. The staff are very accommodating.

Today I’m going to Nottingham, to a concert at Rock City.

Bye for now,

Rose

Depression and Writing

 

When I got home from London on Tuesday my Mslexia issue 57 was waiting for me. I’m terrible; I get magazines and rarely finish them before the next issue turns up. This time however I’ve finished the magazine in a few hours. I love Mslexia; it’s really interesting and the articles are always insightful. As I’m a subscriber I occasionally get emails from the magazine and a while ago I received an email survey about depression and antidepressants, and their effect on women writers. I filled it in and waited to see the results.

According to the article there has been no research in to the effect of mood altering medication on creativity. This isn’t surprising, it takes long enough to do all the safety tests on new pharmaceuticals and funding isn’t necessarily available for researching something as intangible as creativity. The article writer suggests, quite venomously, that the scientific community doesn’t value creativity. I disagree. I base my disagreement on personal experience of the scientific community and knowledge of the past. You have to be creative in order to make the imaginative leaps needed to get from a crystal interference pattern to the structure of DNA, or to develop new ways to see old problems, and find new solutions.

That aside, the article made me think about my own depression. This is a personal story; if you don’t want to read it then you should leave now. I am not ashamed to say that I have depression, that I have suffered from it for nearly twenty years, most of that time untreated, and that I come from a family of depressives. I know the source of my sickness and I spend every day dealing with it. I am also on antidepressants. I haven’t been on them long but already I have become more productive. I have been able to write the last ten blog posts, for a start. For two months I pretty much couldn’t write, with treatment came a new desire to work again.

This is the second time I have been put on antidepressants. The first time was in 2010. I was an absolute mess. I was (and still am) doing a terribly dull job that wastes my intelligence and I fell in to a black pit from which I felt there was no way out. Through pharmaceutical and talking therapy, especially the talking therapy, I discovered the cause of that particular depressive episode. I also found a solution: WRITING.

Writing, with reading, had always been one of my greatest pleasures. I didn’t go out much as a child, or teenager. I preferred to stay at home and read, or write. My parents bought me a typewriter when I was eight and I used to write all the time. The first thing I ever had published was an article about birds of prey in our primary school magazine, which I also helped produce and edit. My ambition was to be a writer; it was the only thing I ever wanted to do. But we grow up and are influenced by our environment. I was influenced by those who said I’d never be able to make a living as a writer, that I wasn’t extrovert enough to be able to interview people or go places.

Nobody ever said I wasn’t clever enough but that I was far too timid. Self-fulfilling prophecies; the more I was told ‘you can’t do that’ the less I believed I was capable of it. I was diverted in to other areas; the sciences mainly, which is what I studied at university. Yes, it was interesting and kept me amused for a few years, but I knew by the end of my first year that it wasn’t what I wanted. I spent more time in the library reading old books than I probably should have done considering I was studying chemistry. I suffered a depressive episode at university but did nothing about it, I struggled on alone. This is not something I suggest anyone do. Really, get help as soon as possible.

I got my degree, somehow, and tried to find a job. It was difficult and I had to take part time and seasonal jobs with nothing to do with my degree or interests. At the same time I did a few short courses at a community college. One, which was cancelled half way through, was about creative writing. I wrote a few stories and they seemed to go over well. Certainly the constructive criticism helped me develop. I did eventually find a lab job, and while it didn’t pay too badly I was bored. I went back to college and studied English Literature in the evening. I loved it. Then I got made redundant. So I went to work in a fish factory. I hate it, but needs must.

Before I knew it that old demon depression was chasing me again. I hadn’t written anything in years, except a few essays for my course. As I said, by 2010 I was a mess. But with treatment, talking through things and finding ways to cope with my symptoms lead to a break through. I found my way back to writing, and seriously considered it again for the first time in eleven years. Why shouldn’t I try to write for a living? So I started to write again, started this blog, wrote a few articles for an online magazine. I don’t make a living out of it, I’d like to though, and I am not afraid of saying so any more. At the moment it is a creative release and an excuse to investigate the most obscure subjects at times. Everywhere I go, everything I do, see, read or hear now becomes a source of ideas for things to write about.

Without the help of antidepressants I wouldn’t have had a clear enough head to see my way forward, or the ability to plan and act on those plans. My depression squashes any creative urges and the impetus to act on the urges I do have. The medication releases me from the prison of my sickness. I know some people find that their medication deadens their creative side or causes emotional flattening, but I couldn’t survive without the occasional help it provides. My desire to write returned within three weeks of being treated this time around and writing has helped me cope with the emotional turmoil I have experienced.

Thanks for reading.

Rose.

 

P.S.

If you have a mental health problem, don’t be ashamed to ask for help. Whether therapy or medication is your treatment of choice take it. It’s better than the alternative. I have been there, I know this.

I’ve got to an internet connection

WARNING! WARNING!

I have an internet connection and I know how to use it.

There will be six blog entries up in very quick succession. They are mostly about the places I went on my trip to London. I seriously need to get internet at home, it would make life a lot easier. So I have to thank my daddy for the use of his WiFi before I throw the posts at you all: thank you, love you (and your internet).

I hope you enjoy reading my few thoughts,

Rose.

‘Sense and Sensibility’, or, Jane Austen has a wicked sense of humour

I’ve just finished reading ‘Sense and Sensibility’ for the first time in about 15 years. It struck me as I finished reading it how funny Jane Austen was. I’d heard that her letters to her sister Cassandra were full of wit, but I didn’t know how witty she was until I read the last few pages of the book. Her closing paragraphs discussing the ‘happiness’ of Mr and Mrs John Dashwood, Mr and Mrs Robert Ferrers and Mrs Ferrers struck me especially. She could have said the same things more bluntly but the eloquence and wry tone only added to the reader’s impression that they all ended less than happily.

I’ve read many of Austen’s novels, but most of them I haven’t read in a very long time. Going back to them I have found humour that I missed in the past, either because I was too young to understand the joke when I last read them or because I read them too quickly and didn’t pay enough attention. There are many good reasons to re-read books one has only read in youth, or where a number of years has passed. New appreciation of the same words, coloured by greater age and experience, and finding a new perspective on the same, is one of the best. Along with, ‘I like that book, so I’m reading it again’.

That being said, sometimes it is disappointing to go back to a book much loved as a teenager and realise that it’s shallow or badly written. The image it throws upon your younger self, in choosing to read something like that, can be painful.

Best be off, things to do and all that,

Rose

200 years of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ – A reflection, or, why I love Jane Austen’s work

I’m reliably informed that ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was first published on 28th January 1813.

It was a novel long in composition. ‘First Impressions’ – the original title – made its first appearance in late 1796, when Miss Austen was 21 and living at Steventon, Hampshire. In 1812 it was radically altered and finally saw publication in 1813. Much had changed between 1796 and 1813 – the war against Napoleon was practically over, for a start. Jane herself was thirty-eight and had already had ‘Sense and Sensibility’ published. She was living at Chawton, Hampshire, with her mother and sister Cassandra. They had moved there in 1807 when her brother Edward offered them the former stewards cottage as a permanent home. It was here that she revised the novels of her youth and wrote the novels of her maturity.

‘Pride and Prejudice’, her second published work, is probably the most well known. I first came across in when I was 12, at secondary school. Every year we were given book tokens to spend in the library. There would be a book sale, once a year, for a fortnight, not of school library books, but of new books provided by a book club, I think. I went one evening with my sisters and was immediately attracted to two hard back, leather bound books; one was green and one blue. The pages were very thin, almost like bible pages, and the printing reminded me of eighteenth century books I’d seen in museums. If it’s possible to fall in love with books, I did. Those books were ‘Lorna Doone’ by R.D. Blackmore, first published in 1869 and set in Exmoor, and ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen, first publish 1813. It was then that I first learnt to love books in and of themselves, as well as reading.

I liked ‘Lorna Doone’, it was a great adventure; but I loved ‘Pride and Prejudice’. I was young enough that it made an indelible impression on my mind. I have read and re-read it so often that it has fallen apart. (I had to get myself a new copy on Friday. I was looking for ‘Sense and Sensibility’ and found them both in lovely hardback editions in ‘The Works’ in Grimsby. That shop is lethal.)

I remember the first time I read it, enjoying the words and the story; the characters were fascinating, and I hoped that all would resolve itself, and angry at the unfairness of the world that kept people from being happy.

I remember the excitement in 1996 when the BBC produced their, now famous, adaptation and the frenzy surrounding it – including the brief fashion for stick-on sideburns. On a Saturday night my sisters, our mother and I would gather in the sitting room to watch the latest instalment, comparing it with the book and then discussing it for days after. We compared ourselves to the different characters and how their world was different from our own. It made us grateful for the freedom we, as women, had. We had choices and an education that eighteenth and nineteenth century women didn’t, although we would have liked to learn to dance and play and sing. Over the years I have watched many film adaptations including ‘Bride and Prejudice’, which I love. It’s very funny. The story might have been adapted but the spirit is still there. I wasn’t too sure about the film starring Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet from 2005. In comparison the BBC series it missed so much of the story out, but they are different formats and as a film it works well enough. I just have to be careful not to have it on when my sister visits. She really disapproves of it.

I studied ‘Pride and Prejudice’ for my GCSE English Literature. And studying it didn’t make me enjoy it less, if anything because I gained a better understanding of the times in  which it had been written and of the author, as well as finding new ways to read the book, I received greater pleasure from it. Even writing an essay about pride and prejudice in the book was fun, in spite of having to write it out three times because my hand-writing was terrible. I got an A+ for it. My English teacher was very proud of me; she was a bit disappointed when I studied the sciences for my ‘A’ levels (but then so was my History teacher). I think previous knowledge and love for the book helped; I enjoyed English whereas my peers endured it.

For my ‘A’ level maths coursework I compared the word length in ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘The Lord of the Rings’ and subjected them to statistical analysis. I can’t actually remember what I concluded, but I think I might have got point for originality. I was the only one in the class to think that applying statistics to literature might be interesting.

I carried my copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’, along with my copy of ‘The Lord of the Rings’ (another favourite and one of the few other books of which I have multiple copies), to university, and in times of stress and distress they were always there for me, constant companions. I can get lost in them, transported to another world or another time.

‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘Lord of the Rings’ have probably had the greatest effect on my own writing since I read the ‘Swallows and Amazons’ and ‘Famous Five’ books as a child. I can either write epics, with convoluted language and obscure references reminiscent of the sagas or I write Georgian novels. I’m working on finding my own style, hopefully somewhere in between that doesn’t grate so much on other people.

The book itself did have a material affect on my world-view. It encouraged a young mind to realise how lucky we actually are. It encouraged my interest in the early nineteenth century – I wanted to know why there were militia in the first place, which lead me to learn about the Napoleonic wars, and in women’s history – why were they dependant on their father, why wouldn’t they inherit? I wanted to know everything, to find a context for this magnificent book that I had had the luck to find so early in life. I went on to read many other classics, although I had already read a few while still in primary schools (I doubt there are many primary schools left where it is thought perfectly appropriate for a 10 year old to read ‘Call of the Wild’ but mine let me. I had some good teachers.) My ideas of the world were formed by books, and ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was one of the greatest teachers.

As I have grown older I have returned time and again to Austen and Tolkein for strength, inspiration and escape. When I put down the books I am better able to cope with the world, its pain and disappointments, and also its joys. My interpretation of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ is not that of an innocent 12 year old with romantic notions and little knowledge of the world. I have grown up and in the process my understanding of the book has changed. I’m older, and far more cynical for a start. It has much to teach us still, about the world, about people, about ourselves; we should look beyond the surface to a persons true nature, we should never allow our own prejudices to lead us astray, and we should never allow those in a social position more respected than our own to tell us what to do.

In a few years I will buy my niece a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and I will hope that she finds as much pleasure in it as I do.

Here endeth my love letter to literature.

Rose