Moongazy Girl

Mary Hoffman and serendipity

2012-01-26T09:55:00.010Z

Stonewylde book 5 is coming on really well now. But my editor at Orion has been asking that dreaded question, 'Do you have a title yet? And what ideas do you have for the cover?' Yikes! I knew this would happen and I haven't yet decided on the title, although there are two main contenders at the moment. And that will dictate the cover art of course. I've set myself a deadline of Sunday night to decide.

In the meantime, I was struck this week yet again by the way that strange and weird things happen in life - call it serendipity, fate, coincidence or whatever. I think we all know that moment when the hair on our arms rises and we have evidence that there is some kind of pattern to life. This week, the parents of a very good friend of mine visited me for lunch. They wanted to see the new house and bring some things over.

Anyone who's read the re-published versions of Stonewylde will see that the series is now also dedicated to my friend, Debbie. She was my best friend from when we were thirteen year-olds at school together. She remained my closest and dearest friend over the years, even though we've both spent time living abroad and our lives were very different. She always expected me to be a writer one day, remembering my scribbles, dreams and imagination from younger days, and was one of the first to read the draft manuscript to my original books. She died in 2009 of cancer, aged 50. Her parents and I (who've also known each other since I was 13) remain close and now the initial shock and pain of bereavement has eased, we enjoy reminiscing about Debbie and the past.

They've finally sorted through all Debbie's things and have given me lots of her bits and pieces - always lovely, but it does bring back the pain. There are also a life-time of birthday and Christmas presents and little random gifts that I gave her and which they want me to have. Debbie was very sentimental - she kept everything I ever gave her. Her parents have gradually worked their way through it all and every time we see each other they give me another box or bag of stuff, including clothes and shoes. It may seem a bit macabre, but I get a lot of pleasure out of wearing Debbie's old things and I know she'd have approved. She always said she had better taste than me! When they visited on Tuesday they brought what they believe is the last box of things, and it contained various books I'd given Debbie over the years. I'd already had loads of books returned, so this was a surprise. And when I saw two of them I had that hair-raising moment.

Way back in the 90s I bought two books which really changed things for me at a time when I was "finding my path". One was called 'Sun, Moon and Stars' and the other 'Song of the Earth'. They were beautiful books - exquisitely illustrated and with wonderful text. They were children's books, but I've always loved children's books. These two books, which I spent so many hours browsing through, focus on mythology and legends about the world and the universe. They're so well researched and reshaped my feelings about nature and deity. There's one double-paged spread in 'Song of the Earth' called 'Mother Earth', with a picture of a sleeping woman - a goddess in the landscape. This is how I picture Stonewylde, and I know that these two books significantly contributed to my ideas for Stonewylde when the whole concept was still embryonic.

Debbie had such unwavering faith in the ultimate success of Stonewylde and always encouraged me, even when it all looked impossible. So a few years later, I bought her copies of both these beautiful books to thank her for all the support and encouragement she'd given me. I felt tearful when I looked in the box and saw that her parents had found them and returned them to me.

And then I went cold - firstly they're published by Orion which I hadn't appreciated, not having looked at my copies for years, and certainly not since signing my publishing deal with Orion. And then I saw ... they're written by Mary Hoffman! And only last week I put a link to that same lady's blog about the Fisherman's Wife!! Of course when I did that I hadn't realised that she's the author of these two favourite and much-loved books. What a strange world it is - her name leapt out at me and I couldn't believe the coincidence.

Mary, if you read this - thank you for all the pleasure these books gave to me, Debbie and also the many children I taught, who also loved them. Thank you for the inspiration I gained from them too. And are you going to the big Orion authors' party in February? It would be wonderful to meet you!

Monday is washing day

2012-01-23T14:47:00.007Z

Photo courtesy of Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery

Does anyone remember that funny old song about Monday being washing day? It went through the whole week, ending in "Is everybody happy? You bet your life we are!" I thought of this as I bundled a load of whites into the washing machine this morning, prior to beginning Chapter 4. A king-size sheet, two pillow cases, a bath sheet and one of Mr B's white shirts - all were stuffed in the aperture, the washing liquid and fabric conditioner sloshed into the correct holes, the buttons pressed and hey presto - washing done. And the toaster hadn't even popped in the space of time it took me to do this. One hour and twenty-five minutes later it's done and ready to be put out to dry.

I never take my washing machine for granted, remembering only too well what it's like not to have one. Washing machines are one of the wonderful inventions that liberated women from some of the household drudgery. Without one it takes hours and hours a week to keep a family in clean clothes and bed-linen. I was aware of this when writing my books. At Stonewylde there's a Laundry House in the Village and of course the Hall has its own laundry. This is where Rowan worked and where Magus first approached her to ask if she'd do him the honour of being his May Queen at Beltane. You can imagine how time-consuming it must be for Villagers to do their laundry and how much more effort it takes to keep everything clean. But at Stonewylde the emphasis has never been on doing things quickly. When you think how long it takes to actually produce a shirt, for instance - grow and harvest the flax, spin and dye the fibre, weave the cloth, cut and sew the garment - the washing of it would also be done mindfully and carefully.

Two of my sons are about to move into a new house-share and have found somewhere lovely. Their new place of course includes a washing machine, and this made me wonder how many people in western society today don't have access to a washing machine, or failing that, a launderette? They're good around the house, but I don't think my sons would have a clue how to wash clothes by hand. I remember when they were born I washed everything by hand. It took a large chunk of my morning, every single morning, to wash the family's clothes and worst of all, the nappies! I boiled those in a big pan, having soaked them overnight in a bucket. All the washing was wrung out by hand, which was a difficult job, especially for the big things like sheets. I used to long for a mangle like the one I remember my grandmother using. Then the dripping items would be hung out on the line, and in the winter it really was a nightmare getting everything dry. I bet older readers will have similar memories.

As finances improved, we bought a second hand spin-drier - that was a dream come true even though it skidded across the floor if you didn't hold on tight. Then we stretched to an ancient twin-tub - it leaked horribly and still took ages, but it seemed like luxury! And finally we managed to get an automatic washing machine. Sadly by then the nappies had more or less finished, but the bliss of being able to put the washing on and then get on with something else - I shall never take that for granted. So this morning, after I'd put the washing on and then sat with my toast and coffee, I thought of the women of Stonewylde and their Laundry House.

As a post-script, I'd like to thank the Schools Liaison unit in Birmingham for their kind permission to use the photo above. I'm never quite sure about copyright for pictures on blogs - so many are beautifully illustrated but there's often no credit to anyone, and I wonder how that works with copyright? I'd be really interested to hear from other bloggers about this. Do you bother asking permission? I spent about ten minutes on the phone getting permission to use the photo above, and in some blogs I read there are loads of different pictures - it would take for ever to ask everyone concerned. Of course normally I try to use my own pictures but that's not always possible. I'd welcome any advice on this from anyone who knows.

Right - back to Chapter 4 then. The writing has started to flow, the threads have been picked up again (so tricky by the fifth book as there are so many of them) and it's all happening in my head. Phew! Have a good week, Stonewylders!

The Fisherman's Wife - by Mary Hoffman

2012-01-20T14:10:00.006Z

I do hope I'm not breaching any blogging etiquette here, and I'm also doing something that I vowed never to do - just provide a link to another interesting blog because I don't have time to create one myself today! I hope Mary Hoffman doesn't mind, and I hope you all don't either. It won't happen very often I promise, but this blog of hers seemed so timely in view of some of my blogs moaning about things not happening fast enough for me. I'm now sitting here feeling a bit guilty and know I'm very much in danger of becoming fisherman's wifely in my aspirations at times. But like Mary says, not for fortune so much as fame. And by that, I mean wanting people to read and love your creations, not ghastly celeb type fame.

Anyway, here's the link to this excellent blog, and I hope you enjoy it. Have a lovely weekend, Stonewylders! I'm about to start Chapter 3 now - whoo hoo!

http://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2012/01/fisherman-and-his-wife.html

Thanks to Mary Hoffman for her wonderful blog, and to Katherine Langrish, whose blogsite this is posted on.

Stonewylde - article for deletion in Wikipedia

2012-01-19T15:27:00.008Z

This photo isn't particularly relevant to my blog today other than it's the view of sunset from my writing room window. I call this special room 'A Room of One's Own' and Mr B gets confused and calls it 'A Room with a View'. So here is the view.

I went out today (briefly) - the first time I've driven my car in almost two weeks. I'm still a bit wobbly but finally, this virus has released me from its grip. I've started writing again, having tried and failed miserably whilst I was feeling ill, and am so happy to be getting on with the fifth book properly. I've almost finished the second chapter, which I know seems like appalling progress, but in fact it's the hardest bit, the beginning. There'll be no stopping me now!

In the meantime, in view of some of the lovely coments on my last rather disconsolate post, I thought I should say a little bit about what's been happening on Wikipedia recently. We were first alerted to the shenanigans by our own dear Cornmother. For any reader of this blog who doesn't belong to our online community, Cornmother is one of our original and most loyal and staunch supporters, and is also an incredibly efficient researcher and gatherer of information. She warned us recently that Stonewylde was about to be deleted on Wikipedia.

It seems that they'd already deleted the entries for each of the Stonewylde books, and also the entry about me as an author. Now under the hammer (or is that axe?) was the article about Stonewylde. This article describes(d) the whole place - not the books, but the place and the community itself. It spoke of things like the Meadery and the Stone Circle, the Great Barn and the celebration of the festivals. The article was all about the world of Stonewylde. Apparently it's up for deletion not because it describes a fictional place (examples cited in the debate were Narnia, Gormenghast and Hogwarts) but because it isn't notable. This is wiki-speak for it doesn't have lots of references - or rather, it hasn't been referenced by many other articles. In other words it's not actually important enough to warrant an entry.

There were some very disparaging and dismissive remarks about the fact that the books were self-published (sadly this had not been updated) and as all information about me led back to my website, I was not considered notable in my own right. There was quite a lot of discussion from various sources about this. The fact that I'd been featured by the Dorset Evening Echo four times (and one of these was a huge double paged spread) wasn't considered enough to make me or Stonewylde notable. The fact that the first book was reviewed in the Financial Times, and there have been articles about me in many magazines and also The Times (T2) and the Telegraph, not to mention other local papers such as the Western Morning News - none of this counted for anything. Nor did the fact that the series had been picked up by Orion Books and republished, generating articles in The Bookseller and Writers' News.

The whole thing has made me wonder - at what point does something become big enough or important enough to warrant an entry in Wikipedia? I think the latest news is that they're reinstating an article about me as an author. I haven't actually looked today to see if Stonewylde has been deleted yet. I tried yesterday but of course it was blackout day. It isn't the end of the world and I'm sure if Stonewylde grows further, it'll warrant its own entry in Wikipedia. Not that the inhabitants of Stonewylde would approve of course - it is a secret community after all!

If you build it, they will come

2012-01-17T09:23:00.010Z

Apparently (according to Wiki - and more about them tomorrow) this is a misquote, but we're all familiar with the concept from the film 'Field of Dreams' of just doing it, however daft and impossible it seems, and having faith that it'll all work out. In the film it was about building a baseball pitch in the middle of nowhere. In my blog post today it's about putting up a niger seed feeder in the garden. In my life, it's about writing Stonewylde.

At this new house we'd inherited a quadruple bird feeding station complete with squirrel baffle. We'd made friends with the lovely couple who'd lived here for thirty years and were now looking to downsize as the house, and particularly the garden, were just too big for them to cope with. Leaving here was such a wrench for them, and one of the lady's worries was about the birds. I promised her I'd continue to feed them and keep the bird bath full, and in fact I added my own bird feeder too. In the three months we've been here we've had so much pleasure watching the garden and the amazing wildlife; the deer was practically at the back door today but I had no camera handy.

A good friend of mine from Dorset said I must add niger seed for finches to the bird-feeding station. I looked it up and the advice was only to invest in a special niger feeder if there were finches around. I'd never seen any here and when I e-mailed the previous owners, they said no, don't bother with a niger feeder as they'd tried it but no finches had graced the garden. But my Dorset friend was insistent - if you supply niger seed, eventually finches will come. So I did - and the photo above proves how right she was. I've seen a pair of goldfinches feeding together (again no camera handy) and I'm hoping this will continue now they've found our garden. It's not been a very hard winter yet and there's probably still plenty of seed around in the nearby fallow fields. But at least they know we're here!

And it feels like this with Stonewylde. It took a huge leap of faith originally to borrow the money from my step-father and self-publish the first book after all those rejections from publishers. Nothing happened for ages and then slowly but surely, people started to read the book. It was another leap of faith giving up my teaching career and re-mortgaging my house in order to publish the next two books and devote myself full-time to promoting and continuing with the series. After selling many thousands of copies of the first three books we then took another leap of faith. We decided to sell the rights to a major publisher who were very excited about the prospects of re-launching Stonewylde.

I'm not quite sure what we expected but now, as I'm writing the final Stonewylde book, I can't help but feel a bit like Ray in the Field of Dreams when he starts to doubt that inner voice. Was it all just an impossible dream? Will the series ever be a real, best-selling success? Will Stonewylde, and the whole concept it represents, ever become a household name? The doubts nag at me as I face the enormous task of writing book five and trying to keep up with all the other online stuff I must do to maintain my presence as an author. But I know I must cast all doubts aside and 'stiffen the sinews'. I must remember that the goldfinch came. And I must remember that life-changing inner voice experience from Oct 31st 2003.

"You will write - and it will be a huge success."

Giving a novel shape

2012-01-13T12:30:00.009Z

I'm back - I couldn't write a post yesterday as this damn virus still has me in its coils. I think I'm on the mend, get up and start trying to behave in a normal fashion and WHAM! I feel awful and have to take to my bed again. Such was yesterday, and today too. The sun is shining outside and it's beautiful - I long to be walking in the woods and fields and feeling right, but instead I'm stuck in bed feeling dizzy and weird. You know when you get the dreaded spinny-thing on your computer? That's what my head feels like at the moment - permanently in spinny-thing mode. Not responding.

Anyway, enough moaning. Thanks for the comments again. Martyn - that's an interesting proposition. Unlikely that enough people would be interested in my planning notes to make them worth publishing, but perhaps one day I could give a talk to any interested Stonewylders. And yes, Simone - I certainly think it's really important to do plenty of research and get your facts right. If people are going to suspend disbelief and invest their time reading your novel, the least you can do as a writer is try your very best to make everything as accurate as possible. And even then you make mistakes sometimes! The second picture above shows a few of my reference books on folklore, traditions and superstitions. I do try to get things as accurate as I can, and if I invent something at Stonewylde, I try to ensure it's feasible within existing customs. And Laoi - I do hope this blogging about how I'm creating the book doesn't spoil the magic for you! Please remember that Stonewylde is actually real.

The first picture above is of Robert McKee (courtesy of his website), the guy who put me straight about the principles of planning a novel. I found he'd written a book called 'Story' all about structuring a screenplay, but which was also applicable to any story-writing - stage, book or screen. I'd really recommend this book to anyone setting out to write; I learned so much from it. He makes reference to other works I've read in the past: Aristotle's 'Poetics' and Joseph Campbell's 'Hero with a Thousand Faces' for example, both of which are well worth a close read.

When the hefty book arrived, I devoured it. Suddenly all the things I'd sort of half-worked out fell into place, along with many other things that had never occurred to me. When you're writing a story, it's so easy to become totally immersed in the plot and characters - you forget about the actual structure and how it all works behind the scenes. I won't try to precis Robert McKee's work here because I'd never do it justice and it's far to complex for that. But his insights into Inciting Incidents, the Law of Conflict, Crisis, Climax and Resolution, how to deal with exposition - all were fascinating and so very helpful. After reading the book, I also attended one of his four day Story Seminars which he holds all over the world; luckily one came to London at the right time.

It was expensive but incredibly intense and professional. It more or less followed the contents of the book, but hearing the theories expounded by Robert McKee himself really brought them home. I came back determined to apply everything I'd learned, and promptly re-edited the first three Stonewylde books and practically rewrote the existing draft of the fourth book. And now I'm starting from scratch with the fifth book and it's great having a little more knowledge about structure this time around. I realise I probably should have re-read Story before starting on book 5, but much of it has stuck in my head I hope.

So now it's back to the second chapter for me - into the Stone Circle and the celebration going on there. I was on a little bit of a roll last night and need to see if what I wrote in the small hours was any good. I'm disappointed that I've achieved so little this week, but hopefully next week will be better. I hope you all have a good weekend!

Plotting a novel - five act structure

2012-01-11T08:56:00.006Z

Sorry for the even blurrier photo today but this one really would contain spoilers. It's the page where I've outlined the five acts of the book and also detailed the inciting incident and resolution in each. And once again you can see Magus peacefully curled up in a very useful supporting role of keeping me company whilst I plot and plan.

When I first wrote the original drafts of Stonewylde back in 2003 (I started on November 9th, just after my return from an inspirational course and experience at the Schumacher College in Devon) I had no plan whatsoever. I only had a few vague ideas about a magical, secret community into which a very special girl was brought and then exploited. In the very early stages, Yul - who's ended up as one of the very main characters - didn't even exist! But he very quickly made his presence felt, as all Stonewylde readers will know.

Because of the nature of the books, I soon found that I needed to plan the dates carefully. There's a framework to the story of the eight pagan festivals of the year and this is a type of skeleton on which the whole story hangs. Without planning it to be so, I found that most of the major events seemed to pivot around the festivals. But there were also, of course, the full moons to be factored in. And then the dark moons too. I realised that I had to plan this carefully as I couldn't have a full moon falling only two weeks after the last one! So I drew up a calendar and mapped the eight festivals (with their fixed dates) and around this I wove the lunar calendar. If the festivals are the skeleton, I guess the moons could be the nervous system.

This gave me a good framework to base the whole story upon and served me well for the first three books. I used the same format (festivals then moons juxtaposed onto the calendar) for the fourth book. But by the fourth book it was all becoming a bit complicated. Stonewylde never started out as a series - it was only going to be one book. It was my original literary agent, Clare Pearson, who suggested I turn the huge, unwieldy manuscript into three books. And it was my eldest son George who persuaded me to continue the story into the fourth book. So by this point, the canvas had become enormous. There were so many characters and so many sub-plots going on and the whole thing was pretty daunting.

It was after I'd signed the deal with Orion Books and I was working on rewriting the manuscript for the fourth book that I really wished I had some proper formal training in writing. The story was okay, I thought, but it was woolly and really lacked structure. I found it very hard to tighten it up and to be honest, didn't have a clue where to start. I know there are Creative Writing courses - from casual evening classes to full blown Masters degrees. But I didn't have time for that, so I ended up doing what I usually do in such cases - I bought a book about it!

Tomorrow I shall tell you about Robert McKee and how he changed everything for me. What a break-through! But now I need to get back to writing. The good news is that I've stopped fiddling about with my plans and have started actually writing the book (the equivalent of just jumping into the pool despite the shivering). I've nearly finished the first chapter! Ironically this didn't happen in my beautiful purple writing room but in bed, in my lovely pink bedroom! And no, I'm not Barbara Cartland. I'm much better today (again, thanks for all the well wishing) and will be writing in the proper room today. I'm in there now and would you believe it, a huge fox has just trotted across the lawn in brilliant sunshine, had a quick poo, and now loped away into the trees at the end. Blooming cheek!

Planning the fifth Stonewylde book (with help from Magus)

2012-01-10T09:11:00.008Z

Now before anyone says anything, yes I know that two of these images are blurred! They're meant to be - I can't give away any secrets, can I? I used the "soft focus" tool on Picasa and I'm hoping that nobody will be able to actually read any of the planning notes.

Thank you so much for all the good wishes to get better, both on here, the forum, Twitter, and FB. That's so kind and I feel a bit fraudulent. I just have a silly virus thing that's making my head hurt and causing me to fall asleep a lot (sounds like the effects of alcohol but it's not!) and sneeze violently every few minutes. Today I feel a great deal better and thank you everyone. As a consequence of the virus thing, I spent yesterday in bed and resisted doing any of the other stuff such as hoovering the house, going to the shops, going for a walk, my keep fit class in the evening etc etc. Which is good news for writing the book of course, though not for my New Year's Resolutions about losing weight and keeping our new house clean. Maybe I should just stay in bed until the end of March and write?

Yesterday, despite falling asleep at regular intervals, I achieved quite a lot and *whispers* I actually started writing book 5! I've been doing the planning so far, and that's just so complicated. During the rest of this week I'll be blogging about how I'm planning. I told you about the A2 sketchpad with its 50 sheets of cartridge paper - I've used about 10 of them so far. The pics are of two of my planning pages and it occurred to me last night that they look horribly like some of my planning for teaching! Once a teacher, always a teacher I guess.

I'll explain tomorrow - and I hope you like the photo of Magus too! He's a beautiful cat but really not very photogenic. He always comes out as just a big dark blob as he's pure black. He's a Burmese type - of the Bombay variety which aren't very common apparently. He has on occasions been mistaken for an ordinary black moggie but don't tell him that. His eyes are a very deep amber and he's gorgeous. He loves me being ill so he has the perfect excuse to stay on my bed all day. He ended up with green glitter sparkling his fur where it rubbed off the cover of my sketchpad and looked even more beautiful.

I'm off to continue Chapter 1 now. I've written the prologue and the opening pages - doesn't sound much but really, this is the very hardest part. It's all plain sailing from now on (ha ha ha). It was strange last night writing about the Dark Moon when in fact it was the Wolf Moon in reality - not that I saw anything as it was so cloudy, but I could feel it and the sky was a strange colour. Leveret is calling me impatiently so I'm going. Thanks again for the well wishes and I'm glad you enjoyed the wildlife in my garden too. I'm looking out for red patches on the woodpeckers' heads now!

Muntjacks and woodpeckers

2012-01-09T11:18:00.006Z

These are some of the sights from my writing room window. The Muntjack is a persistent visitor and this clearly shows him rootling around trying to find my emerging snowdrops! Actually there are two Muntjacks who visit and we'll have to do something about the fence (or lack of it) at the end of the garden where they get in, adorable though they are.

The Great Spotted Woodpecker is also a constant visitor and has fights with the starlings over the fat balls. Often he (or she?) visits with a partner - they never ever feed together even though there's plenty of room and a choice of three different types of fat on this bird-feeder. One always sits up in the tree above watching whilst the other feeds - they take it in turns, often four or five turns each. The starlings have no such manners - they all pile in together and make a huge racket about it. I do think of the starlings as the chavs of the bird world - and they see my birdfeeder as their local MacDonalds. They also have noisy and very wet disputes in the bird bath.

The squirrel is one of many that frequent our garden. I leave out bread/cake/nuts or whatever (stale mincepies today) every day on a table and I've seen five at once visit this to snatch a morsel. But even so, the un-baffled birdfeeder is a constant temptation and here's one of the little rascals doing his acrobatics to pinch the seed from the poor blue-tits, coal tits and robins. Even if I go outside to shoo them away, some of the more bold squirrels will hold their ground till the very last minute. Our other birdfeeder is protected by a baffle and this works perfectly - no squirrel ever attempts a maraud on this one. The baffle is just a disc of metal placed under the hanging feeders so squirrels can't shin up the pole, as they do on the unprotected one. Mr B and I are going to try and make our own baffle and see what works.

I'm in bed today with a silly virus thing that completely scuppered all my plans for yesterday and today. But the birds are singing their hearts out in the sunshine outside, and the cats are determined to keep me warm (I'm too hot as it is!) so I'll just have to sit here in bed and try to work and doze off when I must. At least I finished reading Shadows yesterday so I can now start writing properly. How many days to go now?

A Room of One's Own - part 4

2012-01-06T11:46:00.009Z

This is my last Room of One's Own post. Hopefully by now you're all feeling at home in my writing room. The photos are of my Stonewylde reference books - such a huge luxury to have them all together like this. I have hundreds and hundreds of books and previously, they were scattered all over the house and in the attic. Since moving to this house, I've been able to sort them out. Many are still in boxes in the garage and Narnia (more about Narnia in a minute) as we've run out of bookshelves, but I've pulled out the most vital ones that I know I may need to consult when finishing the Stonewylde series. This funny bookshelf unit was an old e-bay purchase and is meant to fit under the stairs. I used it at the old house to store the Stonewylde T-shirts and greetings cards, stationary etc but it was never very good for that. Now it's absolutely perfect for my books and keeping them in categories. I have one area just for information on wild flowers and fungi, for instance, and another for books on herbalism, and so on. It was such fun categorising them all and re-discovering some old favourites. When I've finished writing the series I shall treat myself to some serious reading whilst I think about what comes after Stonewylde.

The second photo shows the small door in my room. The picture the other day of my purple throne-chair had a weird amber sparkly thing in the background - this is the door into my room. Our house is a rather strange early 1970s creation - I'm sure it was very avant-garde in those days. It's built like a great wedge of cheese and has some unusual features, such as four internal doors made of teak with amber glass. When we first saw the house we both thought "Ugh - those will have to go if we buy the place." But I think we've both come to love them, along with some of the other more bizarre features.

The little white door you see above is small - less than five feet high. It leads into a cupboard which reminds me of the dreaded cupboard used for Leveret's torture (and if you don't know what I mean here, then you need to read Shadows at Stonewylde!) with a very sloping ceiling, and this leads, through an even smaller door (like in Alice in Wonderland) into a long sloping loft space that runs the whole width of the house. I call this Narnia, obviously, as it's reached through a sort of wardrobe.

I have a fur coat - which I hasten to add I didn't buy and have never worn, but inherited when my mother died. She was bought it by my father in the early 1960s when such things were seen as status symbols and almost de rigeur in smart circles. When we've worked our way through unpacking the dreaded boxes stacked up in the cupboard, I shall hang this beautiful fur coat in the wardrobe and then Narnia will become real, I'm sure. In the meantime it's quite exciting sitting here knowing that the little door leads into another world. When I find them, I shall stick many of my special cards and pictures on the white door and it'll look lovely and even more magical.

Yesterday I nipped out (well, it took ages but nipping out was the plan) to Hobbycraft on the other side of Reading to buy a few big pieces of paper. I ended up buying a huge sketch book as it worked out cheaper - it's A2 with 50 sheets of heavy grade cartridge paper and thick covers of black board. I'm about to use it now and next week I shall tell you about it (no, I haven't taken up art-work - I'm useless at drawing and leave that to my clever sister at Helixtree). But before I start using it, I think those plain black covers need a little embellishment. Or is that just a displacement activity?

Have a lovely weekend, dear Stonewylders. Thanks for reading my blog this week and taking the trouble to post comments too; so inspiring and encouraging for me. Now where did I put my silver stars and glitter ....

A Room of One's Own - part 3

2012-01-05T14:55:00.006Z

So ... the cup of tea. I'd just finished painting my room, ready to start Book 5 after Yule. It was now almost the end of November and pretty hectic. We'd been in our new home less than a month and were still surrounded by boxes. Yule was approaching - always very busy for us as all my children come home for the duration, plus one of my sisters, and then we have many other family visitors to stay during the holiday period too. But I'd already arranged an extensive Waterstones book-signing tour to promote the four books published this year and had to honour all the engagements.

I arrived in Staines Waterstones a little frazzled as always - I can never find the place. I should be able to by now, as this was my fourth visit here since the first book was self-published back in 2005. Staines was the very first place where I ever did a Waterstones book signing event - a lady called Maria had somehow discovered the book and called me in great excitement to arrange a visit. I was terrified. It went alright-ish apart from some heckling from a band of yoofs (one day soon I'll blog about Waterstones signings in case any other writers who haven't yet done a book signing event are interested). Since then, I'd been invited back here three more times. Maria had long left but the staff at this branch are always very welcoming. This is not always the case, so it's with relief that you turn up on time on the allotted day to find a table and chair have been provided, a supply of your books are actually on it, the promotional materials sent by Nina Douglas my publicist at Orion are on display and the staff smile at you in welcome.

One of the sad things is that book-sellers come and go, so even when I've visited the same branch before, often the people there are different. Plus I am absolutely useless at remembering names - so with apologies I say that a very lovely bookseller looked after me that day and whilst I was unpacking my signing pen and leaflets, she made me a cup of tea. And served it in THE MUG!! A mug the exact shade of purple that could be found lurking under my fingernails and with the wonderful title "A Room of One's Own". I squealed with joy but luckily the mug and tea remained intact. I had of course seen the retro Penguin merchandise around before, but not this particular example.

I immediately decided that I had to buy a mug like it, but to my huge disappointment, the lady told me it was no longer on sale in the shop. Much later, having sold lots of books, drunk more tea and eaten some of her amazing home-made shortbread, it was time to pack up and go home. And she took the mug away, washed and dried it, and presented it to me with a hug!! I can't believe that I've forgotten her name as she was so kind and I absolutely treasure the mug. It is sitting at my elbow and contains dregs of tea (fresh) right this moment!

Of course I then realised I had to read the book itself, and ordered a first edition (see photo) that I found online for only about £4. This was published by Penguin Books in 1945, although it was originally published in 1929. My copy, in very good condition, has a label inside saying "Clare and Peter West" and some old-fashioned writing in blue ink saying "Peter W. Clifford West, March 9, 1946". In fact the book, as many of you probably already know, is actually an essay, based on two papers read to the Arts Society at Newnham and the Odtaa at Girton in October 1928.

As with any Virginia Woolf prose, it's beautifully written and also very thought-provoking. The title of her original papers was "Women and Fiction", and she discusses this from a 1928 perspective. Women had only recently won the vote, and the literary world (the whole world in fact) was dominated by men. It's a wonderful little book to read, and Woolf states that in order to be freed of the constraints of family demands, lack of space etc, every woman who aspires to write should have a personal income of £500 p.a. and a room of her own. She says that without this, it's almost impossible for a woman to find the time, energy or privacy to concentrate for any length of time and create something worthwhile.

As I read her book I smiled, many a time. I remembered my attempts to write, surrounded by teenagers, cats, blaring music and computer games and with four of us to support through my full-time teaching job. I imagined the refined Mrs Woolf staring at me in perplexity as my fingers flew over the keyboard and I ignored plaintive requests for food/clean T-shirts/help with homework. Of course she's talking about creating a work of great literary merit, not a simple story such as Stonewylde, but even so ...

She discusses authors such as Jane Austen and the Brontes, and says," ...the middle-class family in the early nineteenth century was possessed only of a single sitting-room between them. If a woman wrote, she would have to write in the common sitting-room." This really made me smile. But it also reinforced my great excitement and sense of good fortune at finally possessing "a room of one's own". And of course, the mug to match!

Quoted from "A Room of One's Own" by Virginia Woolf, Penguin 1945

A Room of One's Own - part 2

2012-01-04T11:02:00.007Z

Since meeting Mr B over six years ago, we've been living together in rented houses. This October, finally, we bought our own house together. There'll be lots more about this house as it's so lovely and the garden is just wonderful. But one of the exciting things about the house is that finally, I have a room of my own in which to write.

I'd imagined that the little back bedroom that overlooks the garden would be fine for me to squeeze a chair into and sit with my laptop, tapping away. But Mr B had other ideas - it wouldn't be a spare guest room (we have eight children between us, all of whom come to stay with varying degrees of regularity) for me to camp in, but my own writing room which occasionally may have to be converted into a guest room if space was tight. This totally altered the dynamic of it for me and made me very excited indeed. Mr B is very good about my "bits and pieces" but his children, unused to such strangeness, have shown puzzlement and even disgust at my collection of bones, skulls, snake skins, stones and bits of wood. I also have loads of cards and pictures (mostly of hares, crows and owls!) that people have given me over the years and which I've always wanted to cover the walls with. I have many pretty, sparkly things that need to be dangled and draped. And as for my reference books ...

Before Yule, I decided to paint my room. It was a pale minty green which was nice, but didn't feel right. I opted for a vibrant shade of purple - one of those ones that they mix up for you in the shop to just the right shade - and it's called amethyst something. It's gorgeous. The room is very small but perfect for me. All the furniture is "recycled" (lots from e-bay) and I have the old wicker chair I sat in whilst doing the re-writes of the first four books. I was going to chuck it out when we moved house as it's enormous and very tatty, but it's great for writing in. You can sit all day in it without getting back or neck ache and there's room for a cat to lie behind your head and another to curl up by your side. I've covered it with a wonderful Celtic dragon throw I bought ages ago at an MBS event. The room isn't finished yet (can't find the box with all the natural objects in, nor the cards and pictures!) but my books are on shelves and it feels just right in here already.

So now I'm sitting on this chair and Book 5 is jostling in the wings of my imagination. I didn't get terribly far yesterday. Someone (sorry - I can't look back and check who whilst writing this) said it was 95 days I think - is that right? Does that include weekends? I had a panicked few hours when I couldn't find a load of research I'd already done two years ago for Book 5. It was pretty extensive and took me ages, on all sorts of subjects which I can't tell you about as it would give the plot away completely. Yesterday I decided to read through it all but couldn't find it anywhere on my laptop. Panic!! But later on I did find it, in a folder called "Shadows". How daft.

I've also started a quick re-read of Shadows to get me right back into Stonewylde. It's very, very strange reading your own book - a bit like contemplating your own grown-up children really. You know you created them, you remember them as little ones who needed nurturing, but now when you look at them they've become something entirely wonderful and separate and surprising. You simply can't believe they ever sprang from you.

Tomorrow I shall tell you about the Virginia Woolf connection. It involves a cup of tea and a very lovely bookseller in the Staines branch of Waterstones. But now the red kites are calling outside and I need to get back to Clip and Cherry who are waiting for me in Clip's tower. I also need to find all my planning notes for Book 5. I like to record my research on the laptop but I do all the planning and plotting in a big hardbacked notebook. I hope it wasn't lost in the move!

A Room of One's Own - part 1

2012-01-03T12:27:00.007Z

I won't make any comment on the size of the gap between this post and the last. But rather than archive this old blog I decided to resurrect it as I embark on writing the fifth and final book in the Stonewylde series. This blog will hopefully be something to focus me each day before I start writing. I do apologise to the people who signed up to follow my blog and were then left dangling for almost eighteen months. I shall try to amaze you with the regularity of my entries over the next few months.

It's January 3rd. My deadline with Gollancz for the first draft of the book is the end of March. I haven't actually counted the days (anybody care to do it please?) but it's not a huge amount of time for writing a whole book. I need to get cracking. There again - I wrote the first draft for what turned out to be the first three books in the series in little more than four months - and that was whilst working full time as a teacher.

Now I have the luxury of uncontested time and energy each day instead of a few measly hours after work when I'm tired. And I also now have a room of my own! The first four books were written in my little terraced house in Dorset. My eldest son was at University in Bristol, but my other two teenage boys were living at home, the youngest still at school. We had seven cats and one open-plan living room. I wrote the books sitting on the sofa using my school laptop, whilst the boys played noisy games on the PC behind me and had Kerrang!! blasting out of the TV in front of me. Next door neighbours on either side thundered up and down their stairs. There was no privacy and no personal space. Cats regularly jumped on me and boys regularly wanted food and mothering, whilst the dust and washing piled up all around us. I ignored everything and just wrote and wrote ...

I can't post the picture I'd planned to accompany this first blog entry because of "technical hitches". I won't moan but grrrrrr - life was simpler when it was just me, my basic digital camera and my basic laptop. I'm now married to a man who works with computers and really, that only makes this technology stuff worse. Nothing works for me, I can't mess around with things in case I really mess it all up and I feel completely useless. So this is a bald and picture-less entry I'm afraid. Tomorrow when Mr B has waved his magic wand there'll be a photo of my inspiring purple things in my own room. And I also may be able then to update the pictures of my old, self-published versions of Stonewylde into the glitzy new Gollancz versions and add the fourth book. Perhaps though I'll leave the photo of me looking younger and more glamorous than I do today!

Yesterday I read "A Room of One's Own" by Virginia Woolf. I'll explain the synchronicity of this tomorrow as I must keep these blog entries reasonably short and sweet and not ramble into displacement activity that keeps me from what I really must do. Jan 3rd to Mar 31st - HELP!!!

Self-published author signs six figure deal with Gollancz

2010-07-22T19:19:00.004+01:00

Yes, that is real champers I'm drinking!

Well, wouldn't you?

Today Gollancz made their announcement to the trade press about signing a deal with me to buy the worldwide rights to the five books in the Stonewylde Series. Since the story broke, I've been inundated with good wishes and congratulations from people on Facebook, Twitter and via my e-mail, which is on the main Stonewylde website. How lovely!

In fact I signed in June, but for some reason the announcement didn't happen straight away. I guess now that every self-published author who's slogged away at it, hoping maybe for a lucky break, will feel inspired and hopeful, because it really can happen. It did happen, and sometimes I find it hard to believe. Anyone who's self-published a book, novel or non-fiction, will know just what hard work it all is. Not the writing - that's the easy bit - nor even the printing and publishing. That's also relatively straight-forward. It's actually selling your book(s) which is the hardest thing of all. It takes a great deal of effort and stamina, and I imagine many authors give up after a while, or count themselves lucky to have shifted their print-run.

I will write more about this another time because just now I'm so busy. I feel very ashamed that I haven't blogged for so long. I've sent out two newsletters since my last blog which just proves how long it's been, and I'm sorry to all who follow my blog. But it has been incredibly hectic, and some things just get left by the wayside.

I've been negotiating today with one of our main distributors, because Gollancz have agreed to let us contine to sell our existing stock of the three Stonewylde books until they run out. This will be well before they publish Magus of Stonewylde in February 2011, so there'll be a gap when the books aren't available at all. I've been working with Gollancz on ideas for the new covers and it's all very exciting indeed! But I need to manage the books we do have left carefully, as there may now be even more interest in buying these original editions. We all have very high hopes for the future of Stonewylde (hence the six figure deal - they certainly don't do that every day!) and as soon as I've finished writing the fifth book, I shall be working on the film treatment and possibly the screenplay. Anyone who's read Stonewylde will know what I mean when I say the story is very filmic!

Thanks to everyone who's sent congrats, and good luck to anyone who's found this blog from the self-publishing tag. Hang on in there - dreams can come true, and if they don't, you'll have had a lot of fun trying!

The link to the Gollancz announcement in The Bookseller is here: http://www.thebookseller.co.uk/news/124069-gollancz-signs-self-published-author-for-six-figures.html

The Amazing Elf Fantasy Fair

2010-05-10T10:21:00.004+01:00

A stunning pink fairy - who loved to pose!

Mr B as the Green Man

Beautiful peacock girl

Kit at the Stonewylde pavilion with Sorcha, our Villager

Lion? Not sure who but a beautiful costume

Since we returned from our magical weekend at the Elf Fantasy Fair in Haarzuilens, Netherlands, the time has flown by. I'm feeling very bad for not having posted before, and of course now lots more has happened to tell you about which will have to wait. I'm leaving in a minute (should have left an hour and a half ago, to give you some idea of my appalling time management) for a week's retreat in Dorset. So another post about our Beltane weekend will have to wait till my return.

The Elf Fantasy Fair - what can I say? You have to be there to believe it. Taking place on the last weekend in April, we were blessed with brilliantly hot and sunny weather all weekend up until we packed up to leave. Perfect. The venue - Kasteel Haar at Haarzuilens - is a fairytale castle surrounded by a moat, lakes, landscaped gardens and woods. It's beautiful. There are pavilions set up throughout the grounds and it really would take the whole weekend I think to see everything. As we were "working", we only saw a fraction of it all but that was mind-boggling enough.

There are stalls catering for every taste imaginable. I bought (and bartered for using my books as the swapsies) some beautiful things, including a lilac shot silk corset, black lace fishtale skirt, wooden hearts, a bag ... and everything is so well presented and displayed. If you want to buy something unusual and hand-crafted, this is the place to go.

But it's not the stalls, wonderful though they are, that are the main attraction. It's the people - the costumes, the makeup, the sheer extravagence of the whole event that makes it so wildly exciting. There are very few people not dressed up and you actually are more conspicuous if you don't! Nobody minds photos being taken, in fact they welcome it and take it as a compliment. We took hundreds (literally) and it was hard to choose the ones above. There are so many more beautiful ones and I will post some more at some point.

I was dressed in my lovely May Queen dress made for me by Sam of The Goddess Equation in Cornwall. I wore a head-dress I'd made myself, and a stunning necklace made for me by Where the Wild Roses Grow (do check out her website - her creations are indescribable). Mr B was dressed as the Green Man and hundreds of people took his photo as he really did stand out. He looked incredibly English against some of the more exotic outfits, and it was lovely for him to be in the limelight. We were assisted all weekend by our dear friend Sorcha, whose whole idea it was in the first place to get us over to NL and this event. She had made a lovely Villager costume and really looked the part in the Stonewylde Pavilion. She worked incredibly hard all weekend and we're so very grateful to her.

Just down the lane from us were Josephine Wall and Linda Ravenscroft. Jo looked like a beautiful green fairy and Linda was a goddess of steam punk! Both (and their partners) were so friendly and we spent a lot of time with them. It wasn't till we got home we realised we hadn't taken any photos of them! We also met Paul Hoffman and Professor Rotherham, fellow writers, and we were lucky enough to be chosen to take part in the Royal Parade each day. It was all such fun! Beer, cider and mead were flowing, it was very hot, very crowded, completely full on, yet there was no trouble whatsoever. Everyone had a magical time and I can't tell you how much we enjoyed ourselves. It was lovely to meet up with many Dutch readers who'd bought Stonewylde books last September at the event at Arcen. Many of our Dutch members of the Stonewylde Community Site came to say hello too, and I gave three talks to audiences about the Green Man and Beltane.

You can imagine by the end of it we were completely exhausted. And then, just four days later, we were off to our next event in Dorset for Beltane - but more about that in my next post. And now I shall switch off this laptop, get my suitcase and nip down to Dorset for a whole week's retreat. I'm going to re-read the first three books and then ... the manuscript for Book 4! Yes, the time has come to get on with it. Book 5 is looming in the wings of my imagination, fidgeting about and wanting to make its appearance on stage, albeit behind a closed curtain. Not long now!

Busy April

2010-04-21T23:35:00.005+01:00

Surreal mosaics on the Tarka Trail, Devon

Lovely identical twins at Westminster

Gnarled trees outside Houses of Parliament

Sewing tatters and sequins onto Mr B's Green Man cloak

What an incredibly hectic month it's been since my last post. Suddenly this year is almost into May already - seems only a couple of weeks ago we were snowed in and queuing for milk at the Co-op! This will only be a brief blog as I'm off to the Elf Fantasy Fair in the Netherlands in the morning. We're leaving extra early because although we booked our ferry tickets months ago, with the ban on flights only just lifted, we heard that the ferry ports are very busy indeed with poor folk desperate to get home.

During April we had a great weekend in Devon, staying in a caravan and cycling the beautiful Tarka Trail. This is one of the many disused railway lines, decommissioned by Dr Beeching, which has now been turned into a traffic free cycle route. Last year we cycled the Camel Trail in Cornwall, and the Tarka Trail was equally wonderful. The trail was named after Tarka the Otter from "Ring of Bright Water" and along the way there are many large and surreal mosaic sculptures of animals mentioned in the book. Over the weekend we cycled 52 miles, but as most of it was pretty flat, our legs survived well.

Another weekend we enjoyed a trip to London. Although we live in Reading which is within easy reach of London, we rarely stay overnight, so this was a rare treat. I enjoyed a morning alone in the V&A museum, and was particularly taken with a little exhibition of fairy paintings. There were examples of many different ones, including Arthur Rackham, but best of all was a wall of original paintings by Beatrix Potter and Cecily Mary Barker. The V&A had matched the two ladies' flowers - Potter's botanical studies and Barker's fairies. Exquisite!

We did lots of touristy things, including a visit to the Tate to see the Henry Moore exhibition. We really enjoyed that. Outside the Houses of Parliament, I was struck by the old trees (plane trees I think) which stood in a row by the drive leading underground to the car park. They were heavily gnarled and twisted like very old people, and must have witnessed so many sights, including countless Prime Ministers come and go. Another strange sight that fascinated me was a pair of elderly identical twins. Every single thing about them was exactly the same. I wondered how they chose clothes, shoes and bags. What if they disagreed? Did they eat the same food? I've never seen older twins quite so inseparable. They talked to each other non-stop, but I think they were Eastern European so I couldn't tell if they spoke twin language.

I've also been very busy preparing for the Elf Fantasy Fair in the Netherlands. Readers may remember we attended one last September at Arcen, down in the south. This April event is at Haarzuilens further north, and usually attracts 25,000 visitors! We have our own little pavilion and I'll be giving talks about the Green Man at Beltane. I shall be dressed as the Queen of May, wearing a beautiful dress made for me by Sam of The Goddess Equation in Newquay. My head-dress is foliate and flowery! I've also been lent the most gorgeous Beltane neclkace and ear-rings by Roses of "Where the Wild Roses Grow". They're made from real hawthorn twigs and leaves, coated in silver, and are exquisite. I'll post photos next time.

Mr B will be going to The Elf, as locals call it, dressed as the Green Man. I've spent the last few weeks sewing hundreds of tatters onto a green cloak. And sequins and some leaves. It's been a real labour of love doing this as it's a pretty tedious job! However I'm sure he'll look splendid. My next post (which will be much quicker coming than this one I promise!) will be all about the fair and I'll put up some photo too.

Not alone at East Midlands Pagan Federation Conference

2010-03-26T13:25:00.001Z

Kit and a member of the online Stonewylde Community

Kit with Darren - an organiser of the conference

Two of the Stonewylde Promo Pixies in action!

Darren is an avid Stonewylde fan, and as one of the organisers of the East Midlands Pagan Federation annual conference, he'd invited me last summer to take part in the event to be held this March. I'd gladly accepted, not realising the date would clash with Mr B's daughter's birthday. So this was to be one of those rare occasions when I had to go it alone, for Mr B couldn't let his children down for the birthday lunch, and I couldn't let Darren and his friends down either.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a feeble woman who can't go anywhere without her husband! In fact anyone who knew me before I met the man of my dreams back in 2005 will laugh at the very idea. I was the most independent, single-minded woman alive who laughed at romantic couples, mocked people who referred to their "other half" and had no intention whatsoever of succumbing to what old Frank Sinatra referred to as "the tender trap". That was before I fell in love. Since then, Mr B and I spend every available moment together (given that he works very hard and very long hours during the week) and we've had some wonderful times travelling all over the country and abroad on Stonewylde events.

Mr B was, initially, a little out of place at some of these events. The world of book signings, gatherings, MBS fairs etc was not one familiar to him. But gradually he's mellowed from the IT business man that he is into the top-hatted Stonewylder whom many of you have now met at various Stonewylde events. And just wait till you see his costume for the forthcoming Elf Fantasy Fair in the Netherlands next month! But anyway, I've become accustomed to having him drive me all over the country, unload all the paraphernalia and set up the Stonewylde table, and look after my every need when we're "on the road". He's brilliant - the best, most supportive partner imaginable and I'm spoilt rotten. Hence my apprehension last weekend when I had to get to Lincoln all on my own and do the whole thing without him.

I spent the night before the conference with my dear friend Wild Roses (she of the amazing jewellery talent - see my necklace above - who's going to make our Stonewylde pendants) who lives about 40 miles away from the venue. I got lost twice driving to her, having left three hours late due to my fussing around trying to pack everything. And even then forgot the camera - the photos above are thanks to Darren and one of the Stonewylders who sent them to me so I could post this blog! Wild Roses and I had a lovely evening indulging in the pink champers for which she is so famous, despite Mr B's warnings to both her and me to be sensible. We were.

The next day I had to leave at the crack of dawn to get to Lincoln in good time to unload all the stuff, set up the Stonewylde stall and get changed into my appropriate garb. I'm not a morning person. Normally Mr B would have organised me and bundled me into the car still mostly asleep, giving me time to wake up slowly during the journey, stopped for coffee somewhere to further the revival process, and then dealt with everything on arrival so all I had to do was find a loo and put on a bit more lipstick.

Aarrgghh! I found Lincoln easily enough, amazed by the sight of the massive cathedral perched on the hill. And then promptly got lost. I can't work our sat nav. I know that sounds feeble, but it's temperamental and confusing, and actually wouldn't have been a huge amount of use as the area around the venue was all diversions and blocked roads. So having arrived in the city in incredibly good time, I then spent the next hour driving round and round, completely lost and becoming more stressed out and desperate by the minute. And then, when I did find the place at last, I was told there was no parking left.

"But I'm Kit Berry!" I wailed like some awful wannabe celeb. "I'm talking here. I have books to unload!". I even threatened, in the most dreadful hissy-fit imaginable, to just go home. But a kind organiser found me a parking space and helped me unload. I was shaking. The event was due to open in ten minutes' time, and I wasn't even changed! Let alone unpacked. "Oh Mr B - where are you when I need you?" I moaned (inwardly).

Then I saw a tiny wren on a branch right in front of me. It was beautiful, and very close up. I calmed myself down and got everything inside and set up the Stonewylde table with piles of books, my labyrinth and hare who accompany me now on every jaunt, and my banner. I dashed to the loo, transformed into my author persona complete with long lacy dress and foliate head-dress, and phew, was miraculously all ready for the conference. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, gulped down some coffee and breezily texted Mr B that I was all set up and ready to go and I hoped he'd have a lovely day with his birthday girl and other children.

It was a great day. And I wasn't alone, as you can see in the photos above. My magical Promo Pixies turned up - three of them! They looked after my table when I needed the loo and did my talk, and generally hung around and supported me. I saw the gorgeous Damh the Bard again and was rewarded with another of his massive bear hugs, which was particularly exciting as I'd been listening to his latest album "Tales from the Crow Man" all the way up in the car. It's brilliant, by the way, and I'd thoroughly recommend it. I had a long chat with Colin and Karen Cater of Hedingham Fair, who produce stunning cards, ceramics, T-shirts and books, and who are Stonewylde fans themselves. I met lots of really interesting people including Tony Bates who photographs hares and other wildlife so beautifully, and generally had a fantastic time.

I really enjoyed giving my talk, unhampered this time by a great stage, lights and microphone as at the previous event. The audience were so responsive, and dear Darren was right in the front row looking all excited every time I read bits out of the books. It turned out that there were absolutely loads of people at the conference who'd read Stonewylde, and many of them had brought their well-thumbed copies of the trilogy along for me to sign, which was a pleasure.

My only regret of the day was that I couldn't stay for the evening and listen to Damh the Bard play. But I had a long drive back down to Reading, without my usual chauffeur of course, and was very tired. And the pink champers of the previous night was somewhat taking its toll. So I packed everything up, assisted by my pixies, and set off into the darkening evening.

I only got lost (properly) once on the way home. I was very very glad when I finally rolled up outside our house. I proved that I could do it alone (well, almost alone if you don't count the three pixies) but it's not something I really want to prove again. I'm a very lucky woman to have Mr B to look after me, and last Saturday brought that home. Thanks to those who did help, and to Darren for inviting me. And I hope one day to visit Lincoln again under less stressful circumstances as it looks like a beautiful city. Complete with wrens.

Isle of Wight - a tantalising taste

2010-03-19T09:47:00.004Z

The incredible colours of the rock at Alum Bay

Kit at the Longstone at Mottistone Down

Cycling along the Tennyson Trail towards the Needles

Last weekend Mr B and I had three days off and spent his birthday on the Isle of Wight. Neither of us have visited the island since about the age of eight, and had no idea really what to expect. Last year Mr B was given a mountain bike by his family for his big birthday (and so I had to have one too of course!) and it seemed fitting, now he's two stone lighter and in such better shape, to spend this birthday on a cycling weekend. I'd read that the Isle of Wight is one of the best places for cycling, so off we went, feeling almost as if we were going abroad as we sailed across.

Truth be told we only spent one of the three days on our bikes! That was quite enough, for we hadn't chosen one of the many flat and easy trails that form a web across the island for our debut bike ride of 2010. Oh no - we went on a very challenging route along the Tennyson Trail, which follows an ancient track along a ridgeway, like the spine of the island. Mr B was very good, but I must admit I ended up pushing my bike on most of the very steep uphill bits, and then chickening out and creeping slowly down the sharp descents, my brake blocks biting hard. Not so Mr B - hardy creature that he is. Bombing up hills, whizzing down them again! Although he could hardly move that night and certainly needed his massage at the spa hotel where we stayed! I think he slept for about ten hours that night.

We had a brilliant, magical time. The weather was glorious, as you may see from the photos, and we actually got sunburnt! I hadn't thought to pack suncreme but should have done. The Tennyson Trail was wonderful, and felt exactly like some of my very favourite parts of Dorset. The land rose and fell like the curves of the reclining Goddess in the Landscape. Our ancestors had marked the land with a series of tumuli, and apparently ancient burial urns have been excavated from some of these. We both felt very in harmony with the ancestors whilst up on the ridgeway, empathising with their choice of location. Who could not feel uplifted when standing on the spine of the island, the salt wind in your hair and the sun warming your face, gazing at the white cliffs and turquoise seas?

The next day we walked to the Longstone at Mottistone, and it was good to enjoy this alone without hordes of other people disturbing our appreciation. I expect it's a different matter in the summer. The monolith is enormous and the area around it unsullied, despite the fact that local pagans apparently use it for ritual. After the previous weekend's visit to the carved labyrinths at Rocky Valley near Tintagel (see my last blog) and our distaste for the awful mess left all over the sacred site, it was good to see that here, people had left no trace of themselves behind. Not even one empty tealight! We spent some time at this standing stone, simply enjoying the peace and energy of the place.

Mr B was especially keen to visit Alum Bay, where he'd been as a little boy with his family, apparently collecting the different coloured sands in a glass tube. Again the place was deserted, and beautiful. I won't launch into a diatribe about the hideousness of the chair-lift machinery, the red and yellow notices with a list of about ten No's on them (as in No Taking Sand, No Climbing Rocks, No ...) No, I'm becoming a grumpy old woman in my old age I think! If you ignored the rusty gantry, jarring signs and twisted metal, all the nasty additions made by unthinking humans, Alum Bay was stunning. We had a weird thought about Mr B there as a little boy, running about and not noticing the shadowy older couple in warm winter clothes, incongruous on a sunny summer's day. This had shades of the Time Traveller's Wife for me and made me shiver. Imagine if you could see yourself in the future at a certain place, but of course never realised the older person was you?

We had the most wonderful birthday weekend on the Isle of Wight. We bought guide books, cycle trail maps, walking routes - all in anticipation of return visits. I can't wait to go back and explore this magical place further.

Magical Cornwall - the Pagan Federation Conference

2010-03-11T19:38:00.007Z

Kit with Damh the Bard (and his big guitar)

Kit with two Stonewylde fans

Kit and the Stonewylde Wheel of the Year

I'm so sorry about the delay in posting a blog - I felt horribly guilty when I saw the date of the last one! Where is this year going? Thanks to a nag from one of my most ardent supporters, Cornmother, I've finally come to write this. It's been a bit of a hectic few days actually, and today I was interviewed by a lovely reporter from the magazine Spirit & Destiny. She came to have lunch with me in Reading, and I told her all about my experiences with Stonewylde. She loves the books and is doing a feature on three women who've had strange spiritual experiences which changed their lives and set them on a completely different path. This feature will be in the July issue, which comes out at the beginning of June. I'll remind you nearer the time!

Well, latest Stonewylde travels were to Bude in Cornwall. I'd been invited to speak at the Pagan Federation Conference down there - the branch being Cornwall, Devon, Channel Islands and Scilly Isles. This has the reputation for being one of the very best organised PF conferences (I'm sure they all are actually!) and Levannah booked me to speak there way back last summer I think. Mr B and I were accommodated for the whole weekend in a wonderful apartment in the old manor house at the hotel holiday village - Penstowe Manor Hotel. We were looked after from the moment we arrived on Friday. It really was the most fantastic weekend.

We swam in the lovely indoor pool on the Friday afternoon. Me, without glasses, doing my swan-swimming (any woman of my age knows exactly what I'm talking about) when a voice calls, "Kit! Kit! Hello - it's Angie!" I couldn't even see the person, let alone recognise her. But of course, once she'd told me her "forum" name I knew immediately who she was! It was such fun to be there and everyone was so friendly. Damh the Bard and his lovely Ceri arrived and we had a wonderful evening listening to his music in the bar. He really is a very talented man.

Saturday was busy from the start. The big hall (called The Cabaret Suite) was packed with stalls of a very high standard. So tempting! I came home with all sorts of wonderful goodies. The word "Cabaret" was lit in pink neon lights, and every time I looked at the stage and then at Mr B's top hat, I had an overwhelming urge to don my fishnets and false eyelashes and do a Sally Bowles impersonation, only having seen the film again recently on late night TV. "Wilkommen, bienvenu, welcome!". Oh, one day ....

There were four speakers booked for the day, and I was on third. What some call the graveyard slot - straight after lunch when everyone's supposedly sleepy and lethargic. But it was fine, although the lights were dazzling, the hand-held mike heavy, and the audience large. I must admit, speaking to an audience of over 200 people for an hour was quite a daunting prospect as I'm generally used to speaking to groups of no more than fifty people. It's a strange thing, public speaking. In my younger days it was one of my most feared things of all - on a par with facing a wild rabid dog or having a tooth filled without an injection first. But over the past couple of years I've become used to talking to a large room of people. However, standing on a stage unable to really see people because of the lights, hearing your voice booming out through a loud speaker - this was quite scary, and I wasn't as natural or spontaneous as I normally try to be.

But I think generally people enjoyed my talk. However the talk which followed mine, and finished the day's events, was wonderful. Cassandra Latham introduced Penglaz, and I'm sure I wasn't alone in finding my skin crawling and my scalp tingling. I'll explain more about Penglaz in another blog (and it won't be long in coming, I promise!) as it's a wonderful thing that deserves a proper mention.

Later, Mr B and I had dinner with Damh and Ceri, which was fun. The evening was rounded off with a brilliant performance by The Dolmen, the folk band from Dorset. It was so good to see them again and have a chat with some of the band members (who are Stonewylde fans too!). It's a small world really and meeting up with so many readers over the weekend, from all parts of the country, brought this home. The highlight of the evening had to be when Damh joined The Dolmen on stage for a very rousing rendition of Raggle Taggle Gypsies-O.

I went to sleep again with the Cornish moon shining on my eyelids and waking me in the middle of the night. Magical!

Llangoed Hall - our Welsh weekend

2010-02-16T11:24:00.007Z

The grand facade of Llangoed Hall

The lovely Morning Room

Wonderful proportions of the staircase -and note the hat-rack!

The metal fire-curtain - a strange coincidence

Mr B and I recently spent a weekend at a beautiful hotel in the Brecon Beacons - Llangoed Hall. The place has a very interesting history and was apparently originally Llangoed Castle, possibly the place of the first Welsh parliament and documented since the year 560. The mansion dated from 1632 and changed possession many times including once in the 1800's as the result of a game of cards - very Georgette Heyer! In 1912 it was rebuilt by Clough Williams-Ellis, of Portmeirion fame, as a great country house. His architectural plans can be seen framed on the walls upstairs. A little of the Jacobean mansion was retained, but overall it feels Edwardian - well-proportioned and spacious.

We've travelled all over the place and stayed in a vast number of different and lovely hotels, but Llangoed Hall felt very special indeed. It has such a chequered history, the most recent bits of which can be read about in a scruffy old scrap book in the Drawing Room. The great house fell to rack and ruin, mostly due to the cost of upkeep and heating, and in the 1970s the owner tried to get permission to demolish it. Luckily that was refused but because of the huge amount of renovation required, a new owner wasn't found for many years and the place became even more delapidated. There were apparently all sorts of shenanigans going on with bids and things, and eventually Sir Bernard Ashley, husband of the famous Laura, bought the ruined place in 1987. He spent millions renovating, rebuilding and turning the place into a luxury hotel with the feel of an Edwardian country house. According to press-cuttings in the scrap book, there were many people who didn't like what he did as some of his alterations were very sweeping. However, as you can see from the photos above, the end result is absolutely stunning. I love old places like this.

Just before our weekend away I'd finished reading "The Little Stranger" by Sarah Waters. I really enjoyed the book, which was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2009, beloved by Dovegreyreader the famous book blogger, and was the first book to be featured recently on the replacement for the Richard & Judy book show - Channnel 4's TV Book Club. In fact Sarah Waters had been at Port Eliot LitFest last summer when I was there, but sadly I was too busy doing Stonewylde to be able to listen to her talk.

The Little Stranger is a very disturbing read. It's a long time since I read anything that frightened me so much that I was scared to turn out the light (and not dare go to the loo!). It's a modern Gothic ghost story - modern but actually set just after the Second World War. It's complex and intriguing, working on many different levels which I won't pontificate about here as this is not a book review blog. But apart from enjoying the thrill of a well-written supernatural tale and the craft of an excellent author, I loved the period detail. The post-war period is not one often featured in historical fiction, being far less glamorous than the war years themselves, or the inbetween war years either. Sarah Waters' observations on class and society, and her examination of the decay of a way of life that had vanished by the end of the century made fascinating and compulsive reading.

So when I arrived at Llangoed Hall for our weekend stay, my head was still spinning with ghosts, large country houses and all sorts of period detail. Reading the scrap book about the history of the place really put me in mind of Hundreds Hall, the stately home in The Little Stranger. Both had suffered dreadful decay and neglect, and but for Sir Bernard Ashley, Llangoed may have gone the same way as the doomed fictional mansion. I was delighted, on entering the beautiful Drawing Room, to discover a metal fire-curtain in use. In The Little Stranger, Waters describes a metal fire curtain in detail and although I'd never seen or even heard of such a thing before, I'd been able to picture it clearly. And there was one for real at Llangoed Hall!

Another strange coincidence that weekend happened on the Saturday night. We'd spent a wonderful day out walking in the Brecon Beacons, scrambling into a huge cave mouth, discovering waterfalls and exploring the wild landscape. We'd enjoyed a luxurious bath, dresssed for dinner and eaten a delicious meal. The service in the restaurant was pretty awful - the only negative thing about the hotel - but by changing our booking to an earlier slot we managed to eat at a more reasonable time than the previous night. Unfortunately I'd almost engaged in a punch-up with the man on the table next to us, who was noisily texting during the meal. Poor Mr B has to constantly avert disasters when I get on my high horse! But all was now well, and we were sitting in the Drawing Room near the blazing log fire and its metal curtain that delighted me so, drinking coffee and eating petits-fours.

We got chatting to another couple and had been speaking for about half an hour of this and that, when something jolted in my memory. It turned out that the woman was someone I'd met in Italy, on a holistic holiday, four years ago! We'd only known each other for a week and hadn't seen each other since, but something was said that made both of us suddenly remember each other! It was very strange - and then we spent the next two hours catching up. This really was an unexpected but very welcome twist to our special weekend away, and she and I shall now make sure we keep in touch.

I felt a real reluctance to leave Llangoed Hall, and I'm pretty sure I shall go back there again. There was something quite compelling about the place ... I've since discovered that it's said to be haunted by a boy who committed suicide there in the 1940's. Now I wonder if Sarah Waters has visited the place?

Signing with my literary agent at Centre Point

2010-02-05T10:23:00.006Z

Lipstick in the black marble bathroom - reminiscent of Magus' room!

View from Centre Point across London - including the London Eye

Kit signing up with Piers Russell-Cobb

Piers anticipates success with Stonewylde!

Last night I spent an exciting evening which may just change my life! After three months of discussion and negotiation, I zoomed up the dizzying height of Centre Point in Tottenham Court Road, London in a swishy lift to sign an author-agent agreement with Piers Russell-Cobb of The MediaFund Ltd.

There was some other big event going on at the Paramount Club, which occupies the top three floors of this sky-scraper landmark building, and downstairs the security men were turning away journalists and paps alike. "Surely," I thought, "they haven't come to photograph me signing up with my new literary agent?" No, they hadn't. It was an interview and photoshoot with someone called Kate (Moss? Winslett? Price? - I didn't actually get to see her as this was on a different floor) and we were left alone to sign the contract.

It could have all turned nasty, as in the glamorous darkness of the Paramount Club's facilities(and not wearing my glasses at this point) I was just applying more lipstick when Mr B barged into the loos.

"You can't come in here!" I spluttered indignantly. Is there no sanctuary from my husband's attentions? But it turned out I was in the Gents' - whoops!!

Anyway, after my faux-pas we sat in the very glitzy lounge drinking a crisp Sauvignon Blanc with the most amazing backdrop behind us - London spread out like jewels - and Piers outlined again his exciting vision for Stonewylde. He really is a darling, and I'd sign up with him for his perfect vowels alone. I remember his first phone-call, when he'd started reading Magus of Stonewylde and realised that he'd found his next big project. He was so excited! What I really like about Piers is that he completely "gets" Stonewylde. He's an experienced business man, having worked in the publishing and film industries for many years after Oxford, and most recently attached to the Marsh Agency as well as running his own company. In Piers' mind there is no doubt about Stonewylde's success. He understands it's different, hard to categorise, outside the box. But that's the sort of man he is too, and with his extensive range of contacts in the world of books and films, he's confident of securing a good deal for me which will enable Stonewylde to finally hit the big time.

I'm an upbeat sort of person but I'm also a realist, and would never make the mistake of counting chickens too early. I've always had faith in Stonewylde and its appeal - several thousand readers can't be wrong! But likewise I will believe it all when I see it, and in the meantime I'd like to thank again all those who've been behind me from my early days as a complete unknown, a Dorset school-teacher who had the dream of becoming a writer. I've had the most amazing, uplifting support and loyalty from my readers, many of whom have spent their time and money helping to spread the word, following me about on my travels, writing me e-mails of encouragement, keeping my networking site active and welcoming ... the list just goes on and on. I can't imagine there are many authors who enjoy such incredible support and I'll never forget it.

Let's hope that last night's signing with Piers Russell-Cobb brings Stonewylde into the mainstream and perhaps even onto the big screen, and most of all that I'll now be able to concentrate on writing. That's what I'm longing for most - there's a lot more to come from the pen (or laptop) of Kit Berry!

Imbolc - a Celtic festival of awakening

2010-02-01T09:59:00.004Z

Daffodil with a snow hood - courtesy of Mary of Mullion

The Stonewylde image for Imbolc - the Maiden Huntress
Copyright Helixtree

Brigid's Cross in the snowdrops
Courtesy of Cornmother

Today is Imbolc, a Celtic cross-quarter festival later subsumed by the Christian Church into Candlemas, or the Purification of the Virgin Mary. It is the time of the Maiden, the awakening of the Earth in her rebirth after the darkness of winter. The ancient symbols for this festival, so important in an agricultural society where farming was survival (as it still is today, although we seem to forget that) are many. White candles, a girl dressed in white, young goddesses such as Bride, also known as Brigid, Brighid and later St Bridget, the maiden huntress with her bow of the waxing crescent moon, a besom (old fashioned broom) for sweeping out the debris of winter and heralding the start of the growing season ... this is a time of new beginnings, a chance to declutter and start afresh.

This is also the time when the ploughing would begin, and the corndollies woven at Lammas, containing the Corn Spirit, would be ploughed back into the cold earth. Thus would the spirit be returned to the land to work her magic yet again. There are clear parallels here with Greek mythology - Demeter and Persephone - and the idea of why life returns after the barreness of winter. The St Brigid's Cross is a symbol of Imbolc too, and the festival is featured in the fourth book of the Stonewylde series, Shadows at Stonewylde. However as this book is still in manuscript form, I'm afraid you'll have to wait to read that!

I woke this morning to find the land sparkling with a light dusting of snow in the brilliant sunshine. Some years, Imbolc is dreary and grey, but today felt wonderful as if the Earth is stretching and yawning from her slumber. This is certainly a time of new beginnings for me. On Wednesday (two days' time) I shall be travelling to Mayfair in London to sign with a major literary agency. This has been a difficult decision to make, as up until now Stonewylde has been my own baby, nurtured and raised by me alone (well, Mr B too of course) and to hand it over to strangers will be hard. I've spent the last four and a half years since I published Magus of Stonewylde promoting the books endlessly, fighting to get them into shops, trying every means I could think of to get publicity and recognition. It's been a challenge, and finally I feel the time has come to hand this over to someone bigger.

Self-publishing is almost a dirty word in the publishing world. Authors, agents, reviewers and publishing houses seem to mock anyone who's done it alone, the received wisdom being that if the book was any good, it would have been published by a reputable company. If the author has had to pay to print it themselves, it must be rubbish. I can't say I've read many self-published books, but apparently a lot of them are rubbish because they've lacked professional editing. And perhaps too because the author should have stuck to their day job!

However Stonewylde was professionally edited. Thanks again to Clare Pearson, who painstakingly went through the first three books sentence by sentence and battled with me over every disputed comma and cliche! I didn't give up my day job of teaching for a long time, and it wasn't until the e-mails and letters started pouring in from unknown readers and the books began to sell in significant quantities that I finally believed that maybe I could write, and maybe the series would be a success. Stonewylde is not everyone's cup of tea of course, and it's not clever literary fiction. As I've said before, I really imagined it was for the young adult market, given the ages of Yul and Sylvie, and it's been a complete revelation to discover that the majority of Stonewylde's readership is adult, and as many men as women.

What has finally prompted me to sell the rights to Stonewylde is the fact that promoting the books is a full time job in itself and I can no longer cope. Last year I travelled all over the country and twice to the Netherlands, and I spend a huge amount of time on PR and marketing. I realised in the autumn that I simply couldn't do this and continue to write as well. If I wanted to write more (and I desperately do - not just Stonewylde but other things too that are growing inside me and starting to become insistent that they see the light of day) then I would have to hand Stonewylde over to a publisher.

However, in today's publishing world it's almost impossible for an author of fiction to be accepted by a publisher without a literary agent. And of course I'm up against a tricky thing here - Stonewylde has already been published and has sold many thousands of copies of each book. There are precedents for publishers taking on previously self-published material, but not many. And not for a series of three books either. Publishers need to be convinced that there is a huge market for Stonewylde. People who haven't actually read Stonewylde often dismiss the series as a niche genre - appealing to lovers of fantasy, or whacky pagans, or only teenage girls. Anyone who's read the books knows that this simply isn't true. The books seem to have a very wide and strange appeal, striking a chord in the most unlikely heart.

But in line with my own whackiness and belief in a power greater than mine, I posted copies of Magus of Stonewylde to several literary agents as the Owl Moon was rising. This is the full moon of November for those who haven't yet familiarised themselves with the landscape of Stonewylde. It's very difficult to be taken on by a literary agent - they're inundated with manuscripts from wannabe authors and we're also in a recession at the moment. They receive literally thousands of manuscripts each year, and most will only take on a small handful or less of new authors. But within a week I'd heard back from two very well-known agencies, both excited by Stonewylde and keen to represent me. I can't tell you how delighted I was!

By the next full moon, the Frost Moon of December, I'd met them both and entered discussions. I spent that moon on the Darkness and Transformation course at Scumacher (see earlier blog from December) and sat under an ancient yew tree with the full moon glowing through the branches, thinking of what each literary agent had to offer and which I should choose. I felt so lucky to even have a choice.

Now, as Imbolc is upon us, I'm about to sign with the agent I've chosen. This truly is a time of new beginnings for me, and hopefully before many more full moons have risen, my new agent will have sold some of the rights up for grabs. Given that Stonewylde has a huge following, with over a thousand people subscribed to my newsletter and more than five hundred members on my forum, not to mention the thousands of other readers who have enjoyed the books and are quietly waiting for the fourth one to be published, I have a real duty not to sell out. My agent and I will work closely to secure the best deals for Stonewylde, and if I'm not completely happy with what's on offer I shall simply continue to self-publish. The last thing I would do is betray my loyal readers with a bad deal that results in Shadows at Stonewylde remaining in the darkness for much longer.

Bright blessings for Imbolc! If you haven't yet seen my latest newsletter, sent out just after the Wolf Moon of January and containing full details of all events booked for this year, please follow this link. I'll keep you all posted of events, and please think of me on Wednesday morning as I sign the contract.

2010 - a year of wonderful things

2010-01-14T13:37:00.009Z

Fun in the park

Trying to get to the shed to find the spade - guess what happened when I opened the door!
Can you see my wellies? No - snow is too deep!

Icicles and snow from our kitchen window

Icicles in the forsythia

I noticed that in 2009 I made 51 blog entries - on average, almost one a week in fact! Sadly though my last entry was well over a month ago and I'm sorry to all those who read my blog about this long silence. I came back from the Schumacher College very happy and excited, and feeling spiritually energised. But less than a week after writing my last post, Mr B and I had a sudden and very shocking family bereavement.

I think the year 2009, for all its good things (of which there were many), will remain in my memory as the year of bereavement. I lost three people whom I cared for very much, one after a long and dreadful bout with cancer and two completely unexpectedly, though through illness rather than accident. If nothing else, 2009 taught me a lesson about human frailty and confirmed more than ever my beliefs about living for the moment and savouring every drop of life. It also reminded me how vital it is to appreciate our friends and family and not take their existence for granted. Life is precious and love even more so, and both should be celebrated and appreciated. I hope I remember this lesson in the next decade and act upon it.

We spent the Winter Solstice at the funeral, which in many ways is fitting for the darkest day and longest night of the year. It was cold and icy, and the sense of death and withdrawal from life was very powerful. But it was also a time of family love and warmth, of gathering in the cave as a tribe with the coldness and terror kept at bay outside, and Dec 21st was a time of great healing of old hurts and wounds and a chance to bury the remains. We drove home feeling sad but positive - and then hit the first big snowstorm. Wow! It took us several hours to get home, and eventually we abandoned the car in deep snow and walked the last three miles back at 1.30am!

Yule was a lovely time, despite the sadness of loss, of gathering with family and friends, and then Mr B and I travelled to Brittany to spend New Year's Eve with friends. The Blue Moon was beautiful, glimpsed on and off during the evening through snow clouds. A truly magical time and one which filled me with hope and excitement for the coming decade. New Year's Day, 01.01.10, was bright and frosty, everything dusted with sparkling snow. Mr B and I walked amongst some local standing stones, Cordon des Druides, which I think I mentioned in a summer blog. That was a very exciting way for me to begin this decade and I feel that on a personal level, 2010 will be a wonderful year.

That night the skies were clear, and with no light pollution the stars glittered brilliantly. We watched the almost-full moon rise, golden and bright, behind the trees. Later, when it was high and silver, we lit sky lanterns and as they sailed off above the frosty fields, all of us there felt an immense uplifting of spirits and sense of anticipation for the year and decade ahead.

Since returning to England, we've spent the past week buried under un-heard-of amounts of snow. It's been lovely having Mr B working from home. I've spoken to people in my street for the first time since moving here over 18 months ago! The camaraderie when one is shovelling snow and "skating" to the local shops is wonderful. I've been amazed at the beauty of the cold snowy weather - particularly the icicles. Sadly today the thaw has at last set in and it's grey and dripping outside. And lonely without Mr B.

I have lots of New Year's Resolutions, one of which is to blog weekly. Another of which is to keep up with e-mails the day they arrive if possible (I have a back-log from November and beyond - really sorry if you're still waiting for a reply and maybe try again?) but certainly by the end of each week. But the most important one is to value the precious gift of life - both my own and other people's.

Bright blessings for 2010 to all of you who read my blog and everyone who's enjoyed Stonewylde. Let's hope it's a good one full of wonderful things!

Darkness and Transformation at the Schumacher College

2009-12-06T22:47:00.004Z

A room at the Schumacher College - inspiration for the Galleried Hall at Stonewylde

The labyrinth and Dark Goddess figurine - part of the Darkness and Transformation course

Sunrise at the Dartington Estate taken during my daily dawn walk

I have just returned from four days at one of my favourite places on earth - the Schumacher College on the Dartington Estate near Totnes in Devon. Anyone who's heard me giving my talk will remember that it was at this place that I had my epiphany back in 2003 at Samhain. I walked the labyrinth here, built by Tchenka, and knew then that I had to write Stonewylde. This experience alone would have made Schumacher a special place for me, but I then attended another course here in 2005, led by Roger Deakin. That too was incredible, spanning a full moon at the Summer Solstice.

So when I heard of this latest course, Darkness and Transformation, which would also include a full moon and was to be run by Tchenka - well, of course I had to sign up for it! I only returned from Kernowkopia on Sunday night and had to leave for Devon again on Tuesday morning, so it was all a bit fraught. I had one day to catch up with my e-mails from the previous five days (fat chance!) and also all the orders for books, T-shirts and greetings cards that had been piling in. When I arrived at the Dartington Estate at 1.55pm (for a 2.00pm start in the library) and drove into the car park of the Schumacher College, I felt the familiar peace of the place falling around me.

I'm not alone in finding this place immensely restorative and uplifting. The ethos here is second to none, staffed by people who really care - both about our planet and the course participants. I walked into the library and immediately felt at home - the circle of old wooden chairs full of smiling faces, the mullioned windows with lattice panes, cushions on the floor, thousands of books, the aroma of woodsmoke from the previous night's fire. And from the kitchens, the waft of the delicious vegetarian, organic food cooking for the evening meal. Schumacher is a coccoon of caring. I wish I hadn't left it so long.

I'll write of the Darkness and Transformation course during the week. It was incredible - so very interesting, and did me the world of good. I've had such a hectic time recently, travelling all over the place to promote Stonewylde, and I've slightly lost sight of what it's actually all about. Spending four days at Schumacher, mixing with wonderful people and getting to know them quite intimately during all our discussions, focussing on deep and spiritual matters, and WALKING THE LABYRINTH AGAIN have all put me back on track as the Winter Solstice approaches.

Kernowkopia at The Sands Hotel, Newquay

2009-11-30T23:16:00.007Z

A fantasia of fans - wearing four varieties of Stonewylde T-shirt!

Our lovely spot at Kernowkopia

Moonshadow the Barn Owl - from Porfell Wildlife Sanctuary

The brilliant staff at The Sands Hotel, Newquay eating their breakfast

Photo courtesy of Cornmother

Last week was a West Country treat for me. I spent Thursday with Chris Salisbury of Wildwise on Dartmoor, learning about the Earth Walk and chasing rainbows. On Friday I appeared on Judi Spiers' show on BBC Radio Devon, which was great fun. She is a real Stonewylde fan - on arrival I bumped into her in the loo (she has to dash in there while the news is being read) and she said, "Oh, Kit - bright blessings!" She was disappointed that the fourth book isn't yet out but was hopefully mollified by her new green labyrinth Stonewylde T-shirt. She told me that she wears her green man one to the gym and it's attracted a lot of comments.

After the interview and a lovely lunch with some family members in Exeter, I drove down to Newquay in readiness for Kernowkopia. This is billed as "Cornwall's biggest new age festival" and this was its second year now at The Sands Hotel at Porth, just to the east of Newquay. I picked up Mr B from the airport in the evening and we spent the evening relaxing with Cornmother and her Other Half; she's one of our early and most loyal of followers.

Bright and early on Saturday we joined Bo and Carolyn and a whole host of people at the gorgeous Sands Hotel. We were so impressed with the venue, which was beautifully decorated and spacious, but most of all with the staff. We've visited a great number of places this year and can honestly say that the staff at the Sands were the most courteous, cheerful and pleasant of all. Nothing was too much trouble and they were all so very polite. And the prices for food and drink were very reasonable indeed.

The next two days were a whirlwind of meeting readers, talking to people and selling books. The festival was well attended and Bo had given us a lovely spot, meaning we could chat to everyone who came in. So many Stonewylders had made the effort to meet up over the weekend, and many of them wore their special T-shirts. It was really wonderful to see them all there.

I gave a talk on both days of the event and many people attended. I really enjoyed the talks, as the audiences were receptive but interesting themselves, raising good points and continuing discussions after the talk was finished. By the evenings I felt quite exhausted from so much talking!

One of the highlights for me was making the acquaintance of a beautiful python and barn owl from the Porfell Wildlife Sanctuary. We did some shopping for presents for Yule at the lovely stalls, and I was measured for a dress to wear at the Elf Fantasy Fair next year at Beltane. It's going to be beautiful.

We had a long drive back to Reading after Kernowkopia had finished, but it was with happy hearts. Mr B and I had had the most wonderful weekend at the festival. We'd sold lots of books which always makes me feel good as I imagine people going home, opening the first page and entering the world of Stonewylde. That thought gives me such a thrill! Many thanks to Bo and Carolyn for their brilliant organisation of the festival, to Cornmother and OH for their generous hospitality, and to all the lovely people who came along to meet us. This was our last event of the year, and in fact my last one until March as I'm taking a break from all this gallivanting around the country. It was good to finish on such a high!

Power of networking - Australia and Damh the Bard

2009-11-22T21:25:00.006Z

Pagan Music's latest album

Kit and Damh the Bard in 2008 at Wessex Gathering near Swanage

I first met Damh the Bard at the Wessex Gathering back in May of 2008. It was a very hot and sunny day (hence the awful squinting in the photo above) and I arrived in a bit of a fluster to do a talk in the marquee and sign books with Jerry and Diane Bird at their bookstall. I knew that Damh the Bard was going to be there - and that he wanted to meet me as he loved Stonewylde. It was an exciting moment when this great bear of a man descended on me and enveloped me in a massive hug! I was very honoured to meet him as Damh is a talented pagan musician, a respected Druid and a man with a huge following.

We kept in touch loosely via e-mail, and then earlier this year he invited me to do an interview with him for Druidcast - the Druid Podcast. I must confess I'd never heard of it and had no idea what it was all about - but having met and liked Damh, was happy to go ahead. We did the interview, which lasted about 45 minutes and was very enjoyable. Damh was professional and fun, and what was so lovely was his enthusiasm for Stonewylde. He said that I could expect a surge of interest once the podcast had gone out, as it had a huge worldwide following. I was surprised at this (and I must admit, just a tiny bit sceptical - silly me!). Damh was right. After the podcast was broadcast, there was a huge spike in hits to my website from all over the world, and a flurry of e-mails, orders for books etc. And a lovely e-mail from Philip Carr-Gomm (chief Druid in the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids) inviting me to do a guest blog for him whilst he was abroad. I was very grateful to Damh for the opportunity he'd given me.

Damh and I follow each other on Twitter and I noted that he was going on tour to Australia. I wished him a bon voyage and have enjoyed reading his tweets whilst away, and following the links he's been posting. But last week a strange thing happened. A huge flood of orders for Stonewylde books came from Australia. Loads of them. I was mystified, wondering if someone down under had posted a blog or something - until another tweeter suggested maybe Damh was responsible. Of course! I tweeted him and asked and he replied that he may have mentioned Stonewylde! He also said that his gigs were going very well and it could be that afterwards, people may have gone to his website and then discovered our old podcast from April. I guess that's possible but I reckon he's been doing a bit of PR for me. Nothing else could explain the amount of orders from Oz that came in last week.

I got to thinking how incredible the whole networking/Internet thing is. Really really incredible. Damh and I hadn't met but he'd read my books and knew I'd be at the Wessex Gathering from checking out my website. We met and liked each other and kept in touch. He arranged an interview over the Internet, did it via Skype, and published it via an Internet podcast. I subsequently received a great deal of orders via my website, and lots of new fans and readers. Damh then goes to Oz, talks about Stonewylde, and next thing I know there are loads and loads of orders coming through. Hopefully these books will be delivered from next week onwards, and the recipients will enjoy Stonewylde and maybe tell their friends, blog about the books, help spread the word.

Isn't it absolutely amazing how the world works nowadays?

PS to hear the original podcast with Damh the Bard, follow this link: http://bit.ly/7SNRjO And do listen to Damh's music too!

Free books for Yule - madness or good marketing?

2009-11-17T18:18:00.006Z

Beautiful beech trees in November

The leaves are almost gone now, and in fact I'm quite surprised there are still any about after last weekend's storms. Beech trees, as pictured above in a wood near me, really are my favourite. It's their variety of colours - from that brilliant impossibly lime green in May through deeper shades of green, then gold, russet, yellow and finally ... nothing. Although they make a thick golden brown carpet all winter.

It's a strange time of year now, this bit in between Samhain and Yule. Or Hallowe'en and Christmas, whatever you like to call it. The lull, where nature is closing down and battening its hatches before winter truly sets in. I always feel less energetic and more sleepy and lethargic, and I'm sure that hedgehogs and squirrels have got it right. Hibernation seems an attractive prospect when you're faced with a dark, rain-lashed morning. It's at times like this that I'm grateful for not having to leave home in the dark to make my windswept way to school and inspire a classroom of sleepy, grumpy children. A brisk circuit of the lovely park behind my house, and then I can settle down with my laptop and a cup of coffee. A trip to the post office may be necessary later on if orders have come in, but other than that it's warm and cosy working away with Stonewylde.

My life at the moment revolves around increasing sales and gaining the maximum amount of publicity for Stonewylde. I've spent much of the summer and most of the autumn out and about promoting the books, and when I'm not "on the road" I'm busy on the Internet using all the available avenues to make the world aware of that magical place I've created in Dorset. I suppose I do what every person working in the PR dept of a publishing company does, but I'm lucky in that I'm just promoting one series, they're my own books that I feel very passionate about, and I'm working from the comfort of my own home.

I've just done a brave thing and launched our special promotion for Christmas/Yule, which involves giving away free copies of Magus of Stonewylde. I sent out an extra newsletter at the weekend advertising this, even though I normally try not to bombard my loyal followers with stuff. There's nothing worse than signing up for someone's newsletter and then being inundated with junk mail. But this is a very good deal - a copy of the first book in the Stonewylde series for just the cost of postage and packing.

This might seem a daft thing to do when I'm clearly not a rich author and need to make money on the books. But during the summer I attended a business seminar at which Scott Pack (publishing maverick extraordinaire and hyper-active tweeter) was extolling the marketing virtues of give-aways. We all love to get freebies. And as Stonewylde is a series, and one that can become a bit compulsive, I know from the sales figures that a very high percentage of people who read the first book go on to buy the second, and virtually all who read the second go on to the third. So it makes sense to try and get as many people hooked on the series, and what better way than giving away the first book? I let Scott know of my promotion, and the dear man very kindly tweeted about the offer. @meandmybigmouth certainly has his uses when it comes to broadcasting to the world, and is generous enough to help small people like me.

I've had an amazing response so far. I created mayhem in my post office yesterday when I tried to post all the free books ordered via my website. I actually caused their computer to crash, and the huffing and puffing in the huge queue behind me was alarming! I'm really hoping this latest promotion (along with the special deal for buying the whole trilogy) will help Stonewylde. For a home-grown series, it's doing so very well, but the publishing world is a nightmare and every report I read is full of doom and gloom. I follow a lot of blogs, tweets and newsfeeds about the publishing industry as a whole, and it makes depressing reading.

But luckily because Stonewylde is something very magical and different, I convince myself that the nasty grey recession stuff doesn't apply to me. I also ignore the sheer cynicism and incestuousness of those in the industry. I've recently started looking for a literary agent because I realise that I need one to help steer me through the minefield of rights. I've started getting enquiries about selling the foreign and translation rights and have no idea how to cope with this. We all know that literary agents receive a lot of manuscripts from wannabe authors, commonly referred to as "the slushpile".

Last night one particular literary agent whose name I shall not divulge was going overboard on Twitter as she worked her way through the slushpile in her office. It was amusing up to a point, but it made me sad to think that every manuscript she was merrily rejecting with a blase and witty toss of the hand and tweet of the keyboard represented someone's hopes and dreams. However dreadful each manuscript may have been, some poor person had spent a long time pouring their soul into it, hoping it was good enough to be read by the world. To see her tweets as she mocked and scorned each one was in the end rather heart-breaking. She commented later that she'd lost several followers - I'm not surprised. It's that sort of cynicism, fuelled by her friends' guffaws and in-jokes, that makes me quite glad I'm not really a part of the publishing industry as a whole. To have got this far as a complete ingenue and ignoramus is really quite amazing, and I think I prefer to remain on the outside looking in at the big boys (and girls).

Anyway, I hope this special Yule promotion continues to go well. If you're reading this and want to find out more, just look on my website. There's no catch, I promise! I just want to spread Stonewylde even further, and if every person who gets a free copy of Magus for Christmas then goes on to buy the next two books, and champ at the bit for the fourth book, my cunning plan will have worked!

Stonewylde comes to the Big Green Bookshop

2009-11-09T22:15:00.006Z

Kit Berry and Simon Key at the Big Green Bookshop

I spent a lovely evening at the Big Green Bookshop in Wood Green, and it was great to meet Simon Key and his business partner Tim West at last. Simon found the original e-mail I sent him back in April 2008, not long after the shop had opened, and it made me realise just how long I'd been hoping to visit this special shop.

I was made very welcome and plied with wine right from the start. Tim even presented me with my own blue glasss goblet, which you can just make out in the photo above. It was a horrible wet and dark Friday evening, but we tried to make the event as cosy and welcoming as possible. We put candles all over the shop which created a soft and magical light when we turned off the horrible fluorescent strips. Good job Simon and Tim own their own business and make their own decisions re "Elf 'n Safety". We were all responsible grown-ups and there was no conflagration. Unfortunately it was so dark that none of the photos have come out very well! Thanks to Simon for sending me the one above, taken with the lights on.

It was great to meet the people who'd turned out on an evening when most sensible people would have snuggled down in front of the TV and the fire. We had a lovely time and I really enjoyed speaking to everyone and signing books for them. And at the end of the evening, Simon even gave me another present - a bookmark with a picture of two rabbits on it, which he tried hard to convince me were hares!

I'm so glad to have finally met Simon and Tim and visited their shop. Do go there if you can, or take a look at their website here. They've done such a brave thing, setting up their own shop like this (see my previous blog for more details) and it's good to support the little guys who have the courage to pit themselves against the big boys. Long live the independents!

Big Green Bookshop - what an honour!

2009-11-04T22:37:00.008Z

Two blokes, one bookshop, no idea ...

Time to celebrate - the grand opening

Tim West and Simon Key open the shop to a great fanfare!

Simon Key enters the world of Stonewylde - from which there's no escape

(All photos courtesy of the Big Green Bookshop)

This Friday 6th November I'll be spending the evening, from 7pm, with Simon Key the celebrity bookseller in his very special shop. I'm so honoured! I was telling him tonight that I'm more nervous about this event than any of the others I've attended this year. I've spoken to huge audiences at much bigger venues (we're limited to 40 guests at his shop so it's going to be one of my smaller talks in that sense) but The Big Green Bookshop is so famous and important in the bookselling world that I'm in jelly-fish mode at the moment. And by that I mean quivering rather than stinging.

You may wonder why a small independent bookshop tucked away up in Wood Green, north London, is so important. It has a very interesting history, and what Simon and his partner Tim West have done is absolutely ground-breakingly brilliant. I have such respect for what these two guys have achieved, and so it seems do many others. Which is why they're doing so well.

Simon and Tim used to work for their local Waterstone's branch. Between them they had over 35 years of bookselling experience. It would be true to say that they were pretty dedicated to their careers in bookselling. But then, in one of their rationalisation moves, Waterstone's decided to shut the shop. The local community organised a petition and protested vehemently at the closure of the only proper bookshop in the area - but to no avail. The branch shut, and Wood Green was without a bookshop.

But the story didn't end there, as it's sadly done in many other towns. Simon and Tim decided to open their own independent shop and set about it. I remember first reading about them on someone's blog on the Internet, and immediately joined their Facebook group. They chronicled their struggles - finances, premises, legalities - until finally they were given the keys to their new shop. They'd run a competition to name it, and The Big Green Bookshop was born.

They appealed for help on Facebook. They needed labour and expertise to decorate and fit out the shop, transport and tea-makers, pairs of willing hands to muck in. They found help in abundance, people enjoying the chance to support the "little guys" for once. I wanted to help but live too far away - but I watched their progress and was so glad for them.

Just 23 days after they'd got the keys, and only 7 months since the demise of their branch of Waterstone's, Simon and Tim were open for business. The Big Green Bookshop opened its doors and began trading, to fanfares, balloons and ribbon-cutting. The local community rallied around and showed their support, and have done so ever since. This was in March 2008, and despite the recession that's bitten so hard since then, Simon and Tim are going strong.

They're still proactive on Facebook, maintain a regular blog, and do a lot of Internet networking. They're the darlings of the media and get a lot of good PR this way - because we all like to see people who've refused to accept defeat, stuck their necks out and taken risks. And succeeded! One of their secrets of success is the immense amount of hard work and long hours they put in. They hold events in their shop almost every week, and sometimes more than once a week. They have all sorts of authors in, and also encourage their younger customers with regular children's events. Including a nasty ugly face competition online, where we had to vote for the ugliest child (not quite as cruel as it sounds as they were pulling the most hideous faces!). They also run four book clubs a week - so their success is certainly well deserved.

And in two days' time, I shall be there as their guest author! After following them and admiring them for so long, I really can't believe it. The Bookseller are sending a journalist to cover the event, and we've sent out a lot of invitations on Facebook. I'm really hoping for some support from my lovely Stonewylde readers too. Simon will be selling the books at a good discount, along with our greetings cards and T-shirts, and there'll be refreshments too. I shall be talking about Stonewylde, reading extracts, answering questions and signing books. I'm very excited and was especially delighted to see the photo of Simon wearing a Stonewylde T-shirt!

I hope many of you will be able to come, and bring your friends too. It's a free event and you don't even have to buy anything - just be there to give me a bit of support. Even if you've already got Stonewylde books, you may find something else there of interest as they stock a really wide selection, and we're not talking about rotten old supermarket books here! The bookshop's been in the news all this week as they've just teamed up with Gallic Books in the first known "twinning" in the book industry ever! An independent bookshop twinned with an independent publisher - a stroke of genius. I told you they were ground-breaking, didn't I?

Trick or Treat - is it on the way out?

2009-11-02T23:14:00.006Z

Last year I blogged about Hallowe'en and my aversion to kids knocking on my door expecting sweets or money. Especially sullen teenagers in a cheap mask and football shirt. I told of how one year, after several visits like this, I had armed myself with a waterpistol and had squirted the hapless callers. I thought this was quite amusing as no harm was done at all, but someone reading my blog took offence and I suspect she doesn't follow me any more.

On my community site last year there was much discussion about trick or treating, and I started to think that maybe I was just being a miserable old bag. People wrote how they bought sweets especially for the little callers, and how cute some children looked in their adorable Hallowe'en outfits. I guess my aversion was because my experiences had all been with quite threatening or at best, half-hearted, teenagers who hadn't made any effort at all with their costumes, but were quite aggressive and surly in their demands. Althought I still have problems with the idea of children out in the dark knocking on people's doors and roaming the streets - it seems to fly directly in the face of all the stranger-danger stuff we teach them.

But this year I decided to lighten up and actually bought some chocolate eyeballs. I was quite looking forward to pressing them into a small sweaty hand. But nobody came. I was on Twitter and it was interesting to see people's reports of the Trick or Treating in their street. Jonathan Ross had loads of callers - and he was holding a party as well. Another lady counted thirty visitors in total. But many people reported no callers at all, and were quite disappointed when they had to eat all the sweets themselves. These seemed to be in the majority, and it made me wonder if Trick or Treating was actually fizzling out, after seeming to be taking off in recent years.

I noticed that lots of people were holding Hallowe'en parties (obviously helped by the fact that it fell on a Saturday this year) and I saw many advertised in Village Halls and other public places. Perhaps it's recognised that both children and adults just love dressing up in Hallowe'en fancy dress, and the Trick or Treating is only to give them an excuse to do this and show off their costumes. So if a party is on offer, that's infinitely preferable to traipsing the streets, knocking on doors and maybe even getting squirted by some nasty old woman like me!

What experiences did others have this year? I'm thinking of the UK and Europe here of course - I'm assuming my US and Canadian readers had lots of Trick or Treat activity. And what about Australia and other parts of the world? It would be really interesting to hear if others noticed a decline too in door-knocking activity.

I also noticed how much more merchandise was available in the shops this year. It seems each year Hallowe'en becomes even bigger. My local Sainsbury's had the whole of a long aisle devoted to it, and had decorated the front of the store. John Lewis's staff, when I visited on Wednesday, were in fancy dress and looked splendid! The female sales assistants had all dressed as witches and I overheard a very funny thing - someone was on a walkie-talkie and said, "Children's Department Witch to Shop Floor Witch ..." It was very incongruous, especially as she was wearing black and purple striped tights and was covered with cobwebs, but trying hard to be efficient and helpful to her waiting customer.

Personally I hope that Trick or Treating is dying a death in the UK, where it's only been going a few years anyway. I think it's great if people are dressing up and going to parties together instead, children and adults together all in Hallowe'en costume. This seems to me to be a lovely return to what the festival was originally - one of the eight pagan celebrations of the year when the community would join together for feasting and fun. And not a chocolate eyeball in sight!

Dorset Volunteers Award Ceremony, Dorchester

2009-10-31T12:54:00.006Z

Kit presents Leon with his prize and certificate

The five girls who volunteered to help with the award ceremony also received a book

Craig Womble, one of the Centre's managers, and Bethany who had worked so hard

The young volunteers who won awards for outstanding achievement in community work

All photos courtesy of and copyright Steve Pallant - with thanks

I was privileged to be invited as the guest of honour to present awards at the Dorset Volunteers Award Ceremony in Dorchester last week. This is a very special night when some of the wonderful volunteers who make such a difference to the community have their efforts publicly recognised. I don't suppose this makes any difference to their endeavours, because volunteers have different motivation from the "fame and fortune" ethos, but it's always good to receive acknowledgment of your hard work. The awards are made by public nomination and span the whole of Dorset.

I had been asked to present prizes and certificates to the Young Volunteers, and their prize was a copy of Magus of Stonewylde. The Mayor of Dorchester and the event's sponsor, Gerald Duke, presented the certificates to the other award winners. The event took place in the Dorford Centre in Dorchester, which was somewhat different from when I last visited back in 1985 on a playgroup observation visit! The scruffy old floorboards had disappeared and the building is now comfortable and immaculate.

It was a lovely evening, with nibbles and refreshments provided and a really big turn-out of awardees and their families and friends. The large hall was packed with people and the ceremony was beautifully orchestrated. It was amazing to see the diversity of volunteers, from little 10 year old Leon, who won his award for campaigning in Lyme Regis to save a local hotel from destruction, to elderly people from all over the county who give their time to staff drop-in centres, provide transport and refreshments, visit the sick and lonely and run library services etc. The list went on and on and it was heart-warming to hear. Three adults with learning difficulties received awards for their voluntary work, and some people seemed to be up on stage more than once for different community activities. It's good to be reminded of just how much difference a person can make to society. Many of the people receiving awards were not in the best of health themselves, and many were long-retired, but clearly they devoted their time to helping others.

I'd been invited to present a short talk about my books and Dorset roots to the audience, and was delighted to be given an amazing introduction by one of the volunteers. The lights dimmed, images of my books and the Stonewylde Goddess in the Landscape flashed onto the screen, and in a deep and theatrical voice, John introduced Stonewylde, reading quite a big chunk to give people a flavour of the books. It was lovely - and a hard act to follow. People must have expected me to materialise on stage in a puff of purple smoke after that!

Many thanks to Craig Womble, the man who has orchestrated the event and his assistant Bethany who'd put a huge amount of effort into ensuring the smooth running of the evening. She received a set of Stonewylde books as thanks, and the five girls who helped on the night also received copies of Magus. I drove back to Reading feeling very uplifted after witnessing the wonderful spirit of altruism that volunteers of all ages, shapes and sizes create.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus - wow!

2009-10-25T10:57:00.007Z

Publicity photo for the film

I don't normally do film reviews on my blog and this isn't really one as such because I'm not going to write clever and insightful things about a film. Or nasty and disparaging things either - that's not why I blog. But last night Mr B and I went to see a film that so "blew my mind" that I felt today I had to share it with those of you who follow my blog.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus was written and directed by Terry Gilliam (of Monty Python fame) and starred many wonderful actors including Christopher Plummer, Tom Waits, Lily Cole, the late Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp (!!!!!), Jude Law, Colin Farrell and many more. Actually it doesn't really star Johnny, Jude and Colin. They have cameo parts and were brought in to overcome the terrible obstacle of having one of the very main characters die only a third of the way through filming. Poor Heath Ledger's death could have scuppered the film completely, and apparently production was halted for some time, but due to the weird nature of the story line and the cleverness of the photography, the brilliant idea of substituting J, J and C for Heath was born. And in fact it works fantastically, as if it were meant to be.

The film feels like you've entered into the mind of Terry Gilliam and have been given the freedom of the city. Strange, weird dreamscapes. I once dreamed, as a child, of jellyfish-like hydra flagellating around Earth in space. I've dreamed of this several times since and put it down to one of my more bizarre subconscious offerings. But there it was, albeit briefly, in this film. Yes, jellyfish pulsating in space. How did Gilliam know? Or do lots of people dream about this?

The storyline was simple and quite archetypal (father promises daughter's hand to nasty stranger on a whim and then regrets it) and the characters the same. But it was satisfying none the less, and what I loved was the surrealism and sense that almost anything could happen. Dali-esque landscapes, nightmare moments and that strange dream thing we all know where for no apparent reason things suddenly change into something else and you just have to accept it - this was the essence of the film. Nothing made sense and yet to my subconscious it made perfect sense, for the film was the stuff of the id.

Stunning costumes, beautiful and sometimes breathtakingly exquisite sets, great photography - and an atmosphere of wild and bizarre decadence punctuated with really nasty violence and squalor, and then a swirl of magic and a flourish of showmanship - this was The Imaginarium's appeal to me. Hell, I'm no film critic and haven't read any of the reviews, although I believe the film has been slated by many. I'm not surprised as it's an easy target, sticking its neck out and taking risks. So easy to take a shot. And perhaps so easy not to "get" this film, particularly if you lack a vivid and wild imagination.

All I would say is this: I have a low boredom threshold. In most films I either find myself nodding off like an old biddy, or mentally wandering off into making lists of what I have to do the next day, or fidgeting and looking at my watch. But last night whilst watching The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, I actually forgot I was in the cinema. I was there, inside the film, and when it finished I had that strange disorientated feeling of coming back to the Real World with a bump. That to me is the mark of an excellent film.

Naughty authors - Roald Dahl and Maurice Sendak

2009-10-23T14:13:00.004+01:00

I've read two interesting stories this week that got me thinking about the whole political correctness thing involved in writing for children. As many of you will know, I brought up three sons and was also a school teacher, so I've had quite a bit of experience with books and kids. My boys had literally hundreds of books because I discovered early on, when George was just a baby, that children's books at jumble sales were ridiculously cheap. Sometimes only 1p, but at most 10p. I'd come home with the buggy laden with books, practically buckling the struts and tearing the hood with their weight. As both their father and I were avid readers ourselves and they were surrounded by mountains of books, all three boys grew up loving stories as well as non-fiction.

One of their very early favourites was "Where the Wild Things are" by Maurice Sendak - they all loved it and we can still quote the whole book practically word perfect even now (George is 26!). He was scared of the teeth of one of the monsters but loved the wild rumpus, Oliver identified with Max because he was always being sent to his room for "making mischief of one kind or another", and William felt sad that Max had to leave the monsters behind after they'd begged him "Oh please don't go! We'll eat you up, we love you so!". The book, simple and with so little text, appealed to them all in different ways but on a very deep level. I got through several copies as the three of them grew up, because the books simply fell apart from so much loving use.

Not being scared of big, frightening things, being brave and standing up for yourself, proving that you can overcome adversity and make bad things good, knowing that at home you're loved more than anything else in the world, and that your room (and supper) will always be there waiting for you - all very primeval and important things for children to learn. At the nursery where I helped once a week when the boys attended, I always had to read this book to the children first, before any other would even be considered. They all loved it.

So I enjoyed reading an article this week about Maurice Sendak's attitude towards complaints that his book was too scary for children. He said he'd tell the parents to go to hell - and the kids to go home and wet their pants. This made me laugh! I thought "A children's author can't say that!" and then I thought "But why not?". We're all so careful to be polite and non-offensive, especially if we work around children, and I found it refreshing to read about an old man who doesn't care about this but speaks his mind.

Later I discovered another article on a similar theme but this time about Roald Dahl. Now here is someone who's perhaps one of the most read children's authors of all time, and prolific too. Again, my boys enjoyed his books very much, as did the primary classes I taught. His books had something for everyone, from nasty grubby little boys who loved Mr Twit's disgusting beard and the boys' bare bottoms where the glue had worked, to dainty little girls who identified with Matilda and the divine Miss Honey. And of course every child in between these two extremes - all found something they loved in Dahl's books.

But as the article says, he was incredibly politically incorrect in much of his writing, which makes me wonder if he'd get away with it nowadays, if he were a new author trying to get published. I suspect his work would be instantly rejected as unsuitable for children. Luckily it's already out there and can't be altered.

On a final and naughty note - I remember in my first year of teaching at a very nice, middle class church school, I read lots of Roald Dahl to my Year 3 class (seven year olds). I think this happened in James and the Giant Peach - one of the aunts is described as having a mouth like a dog's bottom. As I read this and it dawned on them just what this would look like, the entire class of 36 children (this was many years ago, and it really was 36!) just fell about laughing. As did I. And for the next week all any of them wanted to draw was a close up of a dog's bottom. I don't think you'd get away with that now!

Lisa meets a lama

2009-10-20T21:15:00.003+01:00

Guess which one's Lisa!

I've never done a guest blog thing before, and I don't think this is quite in the spirit of that anyway. This is more to do with the fact that one of my lovely Stonewylders wrote such a hilarious account of her time at Gorton Monastery (see my last post) that I just HAD to share it with everyone. We use "LOL" freely, but on this occasion I really did!

Lisa is a member (a very active member) of the Stonewylde Community, making many posts, blogs and chatting in the chat-room a lot. I met her at Olympia a couple of weeks ago - she's one of those lovely larger-than-life characters that you just take to instantly. She wrote a really funny blog about that weekend, and then she came along to the MBS event at Gorton Monastery this Saturday. There were a huge number of Stonewylders there, all having previously arranged to meet up. Bear in mind these are people who "chat" and converse with each other on the Internet every single day in most cases - and yet they've never met in person. So now they're all trying to meet up at every opportunity, and last Saturday was one such occasion.

Lisa posted this blog today, but unless you're a member of our community (and please do join if you like - there's a link on the side) you wouldn't be able to see this. She's very kindly given me permission to post it here - enjoy!!

"Now for those of you who have met me, on or off the forum, this blog will come as no surprise. My life consists largely of incidents such as this strung together. Willow thought i should share this one LOL .... so ......

On Saturday, I ventured off with some dear and lovely friends to Gorton Monastery. It isn't too far from me: about half an hour, so a few of us "airy fairy" types from Bollington headed off to sunny Manchester, to avail ourselves of purchases and spiritual top ups. The usual chaos ensued ... just as one friend arrived at my door, I turned around to find all 4 hens in the kitchen, merrily shredding a FULL binbag that I was going to put out on the way down the path. The traitors were EATING A CHICKEN CARCASS!!!! Now, it could have been the shock of eating one of their kin, but the kitchen was now decoratively adorned with chicken poos, dotted in an artistic manner amongst the debris.

A full roll of "Plenty/ Bounty" later ... and we were off! I won't need to mention how we tittered all the way in an excitable manner ... most of you will take that for granted! I was taken aback by the beauty of the building, shining out from such mundane surroundings (apologies if anyone comes from Gorton). I have a bit of a "thing" about those pointers: you know the ones? People in high vis vests who direct you to a car parking space? There is scope in that job for much artistic content and imaginative arm choreography, but these didn't even point which direction to head in! Feeling sorely peeved, as this constitutes a large part of the enjoyment of any car parking experience in my view, I demanded imperiously of one that he must point to the door of the monastery.
"Come on then ... now's your chance to point!" I cried.
Looking vaguely scared and bewildered, he feebly waved a hand over my shoulder and said "It's behind you?"
Doesn't take much to make me happy :-)

As Vikki and I walked towards the doors, we both stopped at the same time. I had goose bumps down both arms. The energy of the place was amazing! I'm going to skip most of the day, apart from to say that the venue was stunning, and all the exhibiters seemed to gel with it. It was as though they had been hand chosen for the place. The only puzzling one was "Suzie's Fashion bags and accessories for all occasions" ???????? Maybe I was missing something there, but we felt that it should at least have been "Suzie's MYSTICAL handbags etc"

It was just so lovely to meet all those fellow Stonewylders in such a lovely place, and I hugged and hugged Willow, as we talk on here almost every day, and it was the first time we had met in person. We did the compulsary alarming of Kit and Mr. B, LOL and took loads of piccies. Some are on here, I think most of us posted a few. Anyway LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY to meet you all xxxxx

We all split up and headed off to various workshops:- I won't go into details as I'm sure you've all done some similar and fabby ones. I can't NOT mention Scott Jasper from Dragonfly Moon though ... I have never met anyone with such bubbling and infectious energy. If you ever get chance to attend his drumming workshops, please do. It will lift your spirits for the day. We all managed to meet up in the monastery gardens for more hugs and photos and lunch.

During lunch, I choked spectacularly on a strand of grated cheese. I felt that I was in just the right place for this "Near death experience," but managed to avoid going towards the light by making some alarming and very high volume roars and vomit style noises. This turned into an attack of guffaws, which brought the choking on again ... which brought the guffaws on again ... are you getting it yet? LOL The WHOLE of the manastery garden was now looking at me in awe and horror.

Willow had been for a blessing with a lama, and I had booked in on the last minute as there was a place left, with my other friends. I was incredulously looking at the bit of red wool around her neck which was the result of the blessing. I knew nothing or the event except that Willow assured me it was a great opportunity, and I should go. She did warn me that the ceremony was very solemn and serious, and was looking a little doubtful as I spluttered and giggled my way towards the room containing said Lama....

On arrival outside the room, we were told that the Lama was running very late. VERY late. I had by now deduced that each ceremony was for 15 people, and lasted approx 45 mins. I knew nothing of the Lama himself, as I had not read any of the information, having last minute booked. Now, I can JUST about manage 45 mins of sitting still, but it is very difficult for me. And sitting quietly ...... say no more! All I knew was that I had read some of the books written by His Holiness The Dalai Lama, and thought he was a really splendid bloke. Right up there! Willow kindly told me AFTER the event that it was a Healing Puja and Blessing by the Geshe Lama Ahbay Tulku Rinpoche. And the gist of it is ... he is a very very high ranking Lama, and people wait in line for hours just to see him .... chummy as it were with His Holiness The Dalai Lama. Please excuse my ignorance, as I know practically zilch about Tibetan Monks.

Now ... if only I had known this information, I would have sat right at the very back or something ... however ... We parked ourselves right in from of the makeshift altar. Facing the Lama. He had decided to combine us with the last group, due to the time limits. Hence 30 people and one very high ranking Lama in a tiny room. Mucho chair shuffling ... and we started. The Lama was in his full saffron and maroon robes, and looked stunning. He looked about 20, but was probably 102. I have no idea, but his face was serene, beautiful and calm.

He settled himself in his chair, and asked for water and green tea. His assistant obliged. He declared "Muchas, muchas gracias" when she produced said tea, and his face transformed first into the most beautiful and infectious smiles I have EVER seen (Not unlike H.H.The Dalai Lama). It truly was like the sun coming out. So much so that everyone was smiling and laughing purely at the joy on his face. He captivated his audience by the force of his personality. Everything was spoken at approximately a quarter of the speed at which I speak, with lengthy pauses, thus ensuring everyone was hanging on the edge of their seat to see what he would say next. I could learn a lot from him.

The talk was perfect, the gist of which being if we all practised love, tolerance and compassion instead of hatred, jealousy and intolerance, the world would be much healed. The problem started when he leaned right back in his chair. The hem of his robe lifted slightly to reveal bright purple socks and brown suede shoes. I confess to a small smirk at this point. I then noticed stacked up behind him packs and packs of Tesco Value Malted Milk biscuits. I mean, there were PACKS and PACKS! I concealed my surprise that such a man would have an eating disorder on such a scale, and a slightly larger smirk appeared. I'm not sure of the technicalities, but the next part was the actual ceremony.

He had extended his talk, and we were apparently going to double the time of the whole thing. It was by now going dusk (!) and he requested the lights be turned out. He looked alight with a golden aura of candle flames. He started to read the ceremony in sanskript, whilst all the time incense was burning and he repeatedly rang a temple bell. It lasted a very long time, but the feeling in that room was of great peaceful energy. All were sitting with their hands in the Namaste position. I opened my eyes and peeked ... it looked magic! We were all lulled and swaying slightly, as he was semi chanting ... the bell ... the incense ... then there was a significant pause. Aha! I thought, a new bit is coming! Still a pause, then a swallowing sound ... then a gentle belch. I started to quake in my seat with surpressed giggles, desperately trying to squash them. Unabashed, he continued ....

He did a particularly big ding with his bell, which signified the Blessings were to start. In a nutshell, he chanted the words, which we dutifully copied, as we approached him individually. The "Blessee" stood before him with bowed head and hands in the prayer position. Very solemnly, he tied a knot in each Blessing cord (Willow's red wool LOL) and as we chanted, and blew the Blessing into the knot as he pulled it tight. The cord was then laid over your hair or wrists, depending on where you wished to have it tied. He then inserted a Tesco Value Malted Milk btween the 2 palms of your hands and you walked to a helper, who tied the cord. The Blessed knot was to rest on your pulse point to sent the Blessing into your circulation, and you were then to eat the T.V.M.M.Biscuit to carry it through your digestive system. AHHH! So that's what they were for ...

I approached the Lama and bowed my head. He tied my knot, and made his T.V.M.M. biscuit insertion. I made the mistake of glancing at him ... and caught his eye. The corner of my mouth began to twitch. As did his. We both grinned at each other ... and both began to giggle. And giggle. And giggle. By now he had got my Blessing cord stuck around my malted milk, and this made him slap the table and rock to and fro with glee. The chants petered out ... and the Blessing Ceremony with the Lama tittered to a halt ....... oh dear .......

Anyway, he managed to compose himself and Bless the other 24 or so Blessees. Part way through, he stopped and beckoned a young gent to the front. Honoured, he bowed his head, awaiting some important duty. The Lama paused dramatically and uttered the immortal words ...
"Do you think you could open another packet of biscuits, please?"
We then all had to chant for a while. The lady next to my friend Vikki was by now in some sort of Chi Gung style frenzy, clapping the palms of her hands together frenziedly and "washing" the energy over herself. She was rocking back and to, and stamping her feet rapidly in a running on the spot style. Vikki began to shake with giggles. The lady next to me , who had previously been doing the only operatic style chanting in the room, let out a large snore. This finished me off, and I too sat quaking in my chair. The final "OM" was totally mind blowing. The vibrations just resonated throughout your whole being.

Today I was on chat with Willow and Lizziefaerie, and Willow was asking how the Blessing went.The chat went a bit like this....

W: It was a lovely, solemn and special occasion, don't you think?
Me: Errrrr...Solemn?
W: Oh yes.. (explained fully on chat just who the Lama was)
LF: Sounds great!
Me: Horrified typing silence
W: How did it go?
Me: Well, I stopped the ceremony because we both had the giggles.
W: O.M.G.
LF: LOL LOL LOL
W: You realise how long people queue to see a glimpse of him????
ME: Um well, I do now you' ve said ...
W: O.M.G.
Me (Brightly) but it was OK! He was fine at the end when I hugged him!
W: O. M. G. Lisa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You HUGGED him!?!?
Me: Well he was nice!
LF: LOL LOL LOL
W: You aren't allowed to TOUCH a Lama!!!!!!
( Mortified vibrations run through the type)
LF: LOL LOL LOL
Me: Well, he was holdiing my finger repeating "You very funny" over and over
W: While you were hugging him?????
Me: Yes
W: Would you hug the Queen???
Me (Yes, but I daren't say so): Er ...
LF: LOL LOL LOL
Me: Well, they should put a sign up then
ALL 3 TYPE SIMULTANEOUSLY: "Do NOT hug the Lama!"

So there you have it ... how I made a tit of myself with the very very Top Lama .... It was an occasion that I will always remember, for its peace, loving vibrations and the giggling Lama with the smile that could light up the world."

Thank you, Lisa! I bet you made the lama's day, and the world would be a happier place if there were more like you about! And for those who'd like to know a bit more about the lama, Willow kindly enlightened us:

Geshe Lama Ahbay Tulku Rinpoche is a very very high ranking Lama born in India in 1973 and taken away from home to join a monastery at age 7 years. He became fully initiated into monastic life aged 9 years. When he was 13 His Holiness the Dalai Lama identified Ahbay as the reincarnation of a great teacher and hermit Lama Lobsang Tenzin. the Tibetan tradition is that after a reincarnation has been recognised then you must attain the educational level of that person.... and then beyond.

Ahbay then spent several years as a hermit in a cave. people queued for hours to see him and to have a blessing from him. 24 years after the Dalai Lama recognised his reincarnation Ahbay completed his eduction and is now Geshe, Master Of Tibetan Philosophy. Geshe Lama Ahbay Tulku Reinpoche is in sole charge of Yega Choling Monastery in Tibet and its monks. He also has 4 students in India.

Ahbay is currently visiting the UK from India on a mission which has been endorsed by the Dalai Lama, to raise funds to feed and clothe the Tibetan people and ultimately, to build a monastery in Tibet for the education and enlightenment of young monks. The Healing Puja and Blessing are a very solemn ceremony and amazing experience not just for those with health issues but for those wishing to receive spiritual enrichment.

Gorton Monastery, Manchester - super Saturday!

2009-10-19T21:33:00.007+01:00

Kit chats to a visitor at Gorton Monastery - note the Stonewylde banner near the old altar!

A Stonewylde fan finally gets to meet up with Kit and has her books signed

An amazing line-up of Stonewylde fans showing all four T-shirts at Gorton Monastery
Photo courtesy of Lisa

I did it! After all that worry about not being well enough to make it to the Mind/Body/Spirit event last weekend in Manchester, and with Mr B still trying to dissuade me, we left Reading on Friday and drove all the way up north. I still wasn't feeling right after the horrible virus that got me immediately after Olympia and had kept me in bed for ten days. But I was determined to do this show. It was to be my last visit up north this year and maybe for some time, and I knew that many of my lovely fans were planning to come.

We arrived nice and early (for once!) and found that the Magik Thread Bookstall had the most brilliant pitch - the entire chancel, which is the large elevated area between the altar and the nave. We looked down on the whole of the beautiful monastery (deconsecrated I believe) which was buzzing with MBS stalls. Crystals twinkled, incense wafted and spiritual music filled our ears - but the monks wouldn't have recognised it!

Mr B and I set up our Stonewylde table, with the now familiar Green Man, the labyrinth, the hare and of course our big poster of the Wheel of the Year. But where to put the new Stonewylde banner? Lee of the Magik Thread hopped over the altar rail and positioned it right in front of the altar! It was so visible - and then Mr B put our dear old crow up on top. I really wasn't sure about all this, and looking up, saw a giant effigy suspended overhead and hanging by a chain. I had superstitious visions of the whole crucifix falling on top of me and smiting me dead for being so cheeky as to put my banner in the place of honour. I think I spent far too many teenage hours singing in the church choir not to feel a little uneasy at this apparent sacrilege!

We had the most amazing day. As soon as the doors opened the first Stonewylde fan arrived, and from then on it was non-stop. Many had come dressed in their T-shirts, and others bought new Green Labyrinth ones from us, then dashed off to the loo to put them on! The photo above shows some of the fans who'd come along displaying the four different Stonewylde T-shirts. What a lovely bunch - and they weren't all in this photo either!

I had been worried about giving my talk because I was still feeling a bit odd and was scared of coming over all faint. As I was sitting fretting about this, a lovely lady called Pat who organises the Health and Healing Festivals at York and Leeds offered to help. She spent about fifteen minutes giving me some healing and then helping me to balance my chakras. Afterwards I felt so much better - calmer and focussed, with the panic feelings gone. Thanks, Pat - you were wonderful!

I was told that my talk was fully booked very early on, with people being turned away. So many people packed into a room, with ones who'd sneaked in standing at the back. I had hoped that maybe only a few readers would turn up and we could just sit and have an informal chat. Fat chance! There were no Stonewylders at my talk and only one person there had read Magus of Stonewylde. The whole audience apart from her had come because they were so interested in the concept of reconnecting with nature. It seems this subject really resonates with people, and I ended up enjoying giving the talk very much.

One lady told me that she'd been feeling very dissatisfied with her life of late, and saw the flier advertising my talk. She felt this was what she needed - this was the change that she should make to her life. She loved my talk and said she would definitely be focussing on living closer to the earth in future, difficult though it is for people living in cities and working long hours. She also bought the set of Stonewylde books and so did many others! It's lovely because immediately after every event I do, there's always a flurry of extra activity on the forum as new members join us, and also a sharp increase in hits to the website and subcribers to the newsletter.

Mr B and I stayed on until the very end, especially as we were only at the MBS fair for one day. One of our promo-pixies kindly took over the Stonewylde stall so we could have a break, and the rest of them hung about helpfully just in case. We're very lucky to have such support; many thanks to all the fans who turned out on Saturday, to Angie for organising such a brilliant event, and to Lee and Peter of the Magik Thread for hosting us for the last time this year.

Next event: The Big Green Bookshop in London at 7pm on Friday November 6th - an evening of Stonewylde magic. See the News and Events page of the main website.

Golden October - and I'm missing it!

2009-10-13T13:25:00.006+01:00

The park behind our house

So many conkers!

Sweet chestnuts ripening

It's a beautiful sunny October day, warm and golden, with clear skies and soft light. I wish I were out in it, instead of confined to my bed feeling sorry for myself. It's not till you can't do something that you long for it even more, and what I'd really like to be doing now is going on a long walk and being part of the whole beauty that is October.

I've been ill now for a week. It started the day after Olympia and at first I thought it was just a cold - a nasty violent cold, but just a cold. But by Wednesday it was obviously not that, because the cold symptoms stopped and the horrible headachy and feeling weak and weird bit started. I can't believe how much I've slept! I've also erupted in cold sores all over my nose, which isn't a pretty sight.

I don't have 'flu, but the doctor says it is some kind of virus. I'm desperately hoping I'll be able to make it to Gorton Monastery in Manchester for the weekend. I've been so looking forward to this event, our last one up north this year. The venue is apparently very special, and I know that a lot of my lovely Stonewylders are planning to come along for a bit of a get-together. Of course they'll still do that whether I'm there or not, but I really would like to be part of it! And we're booked into a lovely hotel on a special offer. I shall have to decide very soon if I can go or not because I can't let the organiser, Angie of BSSK Events, down. Nor the Magik Thread Bookstall who host me, and of course, not my wonderful Stonewylders either.

Oh dear. Maybe it's a good lesson though, because I really do take my health for granted. Lying here feeling achy and miserable and unable to do all the things I want to, and feeling especially cross because it's such a magical day outside and I can't be part of it - all this makes me realise how awful it must be for people who are really sick. I can't imagine how bad that must be, and perhaps I should actually see the positive side of this virus. Health is definitely one of those things you take for granted until it's gone, so this is my chance to appreciate my normal wellness, and sympathise with those in poor health.

Olympia and an abundance of Promopixies

2009-10-06T13:25:00.028+01:00

Three loyal Stonewylde readers in their limited edition Harvest Moon Gathering T-shirts

Kit and a member of the Stonewylde Community in new Green Labyrinth T-shirt at Olympia

Five Stonewylde fans who came to meet Kit at Olympia - all members of the community

I had a fantastic weekend at the enormous Mind Body Soul exhibition at Olympia last weekend. Once again I was hosted by Lee and Anita of The Magik Thread Bookstall, who always take a large pitch at these events and find room for me to join them. This was the first outing for our new Stonewylde roller banner, of which you can see a little bit in the middle picture above.

I had to go alone on Saturday as Mr B was busy with his son - football, squash, boy stuff - and that was an adventure for me, on the train with my banner, green man, labyrinth, promo cards, T-shirts etc! It was a really busy day with so many people at the event. I didn't stop once - even ate my lunchtime sandwich standing at the stall chatting to people around snatched mouthfuls. Our pitch was brilliant, right next to the main stage so we got a fantastic view of all the performers. I really enjoyed Tim Wheater, Barbara Meiklejohn-Free, Carolyn Cowan and a very exotic belly-dancer Solariss.

The only problem with being so close to the stage was the noise. Lovely though the music was (and if you haven't heard Tim Wheater perform you really must) by the end of the day, after chatting above the music to so many people and the lovely Stonewylders who'd come to meet me too, my head and throat were sore. The train journey home to Mr B and my hot bath, cold wine and tasty take-away seemed to take forever.

Sunday was much easier for me, being driven into London by my wonderful husband and having someone with me all day to help. It was equally busy though, and Mr B was in full flow with his new top hat that seems to be fast becoming a bit of a trademark. One little boy was convinced he was hiding a "magic white rabbit" under it, and was a little shocked to see what really lurked there. And if you haven't seen - don't ask!

I gave my talk about "Reconnecting with Nature" to a lovely audience, feeling a bit nervous about speaking in an open lecture area at such a large event. I had to wear a microphone head-set which felt very odd, but did leave my hands free to gesticulate wildly when I became excited and also to hold up the labyrinth, Wheel of the Year etc to demonstrate. I had a strange moment when I realised, about ten minutes into my talk, that the man grinning encouragingly at me from the audience was none other than my long-lost cousin Ben Berry! He'd cheekily left an exhibition he was doing at Earl's Court to sneak across to my talk at Olympia, and his presence did throw me for a minute or two as I don't use notes or anything for my talk.

We had a really wonderful time at the show, and I signed a vast amount of books for new readers. I love going home after such an event and imagining people digging out their new copy of Magus of Stonewylde and thinking, "I'll just read a few pages ...."!!! It gives me great pleasure to picture them reading into the night, transported to Stonewylde and making the acquaintance of Sylvie, Yul, Magus, Clip and all those people we know so well.

It also gave me great pleasure to see so many of my loyal readers at the exhibition. Three of my special ladies turned up in their Harvest Moon Gathering T-shirts (and attracted a lot of attention - thanks very much!), and there were other members of the Stonewylde Community whom I'd never met before who came to say hello, some bringing their copies of the books to be signed. It is wonderful to meet people who've come along like that - I do appreciate the support. I gather the Stonewylde Promopixies are mustering for my next event - Gorton Monastery in Manchester on Saturday 17th October. They're organising a bit of a get-together for this event, so if you're around Manchester that day do please come along and meet up with us.

I really enjoyed my weekend, but I'm paying for it now. I'm in bed with a pounding head, prickly eyes and a horrible sore throat. Must be all that talking I did!

Harrogate Health and Healing Festival

2009-09-30T19:30:00.005+01:00

Pegasus outside the Harrogate Health and Healing Pavilion

Kit and Mr B with a Stonewylde Promo-Pixie in the new T-shirt

The Book Babes! Anna-Louise Haigh, Kit, Marsha Scarbrough and Karen French

We had a wonderful time over the weekend at the Harrogate Health and Healing Festival. Organised by Ruth and Neil, who also do the Buxton Festival, it was a lovely venue and everything went very smoothly, with loads of visitors pouring into the showground pavilion.

I was on the author's table next to Anna-Louise Haigh, with whom I've become very friendly this year, and Marsha Scarbrough. She'd come all the way from the USA to promote her book "Medicine Dance" and was a really lovely, warm lady - the sort you take to instantly. Karen French joined us on the Sunday, and is another friendly author I keep bumping into at these events. We called ourselves "The Book Babes" and had great fun together. And the carrot cake and chocolate brownies were fab!

What was lovely for me was the arrival of various members of the Stonewylde Community, and one of them is pictured above. I also met up with so many people who've read the books. The other Book Babes actually became a bit sick of this I think. People would descend on us, we'd all think "Oh good, some book customers!" and then they'd say "No I've already read Stonewylde. I just wanted to know when's the fourth book out?". And the other Babes would groan and roll their eyes.

We had a really nice time and sold lots of books with the Magik Thread Bookstall, who were hosting me. I enjoyed giving my talks on both days and luckily the venue was a lot more pleasant than the room I was allocated in Buxton! It's been a very busy year for us, travelling up north to all these different festivals, but it's been worth it to meet so many new readers. The last event in the north this year for me is in the middle of October, when I'll be at Gorton Monastery in Manchester.

Elf Fantasy Fair, Arcen, 2009

2009-09-28T13:51:00.006+01:00

Kit being interviewed by the official Elf Fantasy Fair film crew

Two of the Green Goblins - waiting to pounce on litter droppers!

A beautiful green fairy holding her new copy of Magus of Stonewylde

Some wonderful medieaval characters outside the castle near the moat

There was a great song in the eighties by Talking Heads, and one of the lines was, "And you may ask yourself - how did I get here?" That's a feeling I've had a lot since Stonewylde took over my life. I felt that sense of unreality in Port Eliot in the summer, as I sat on an elegant sofa next to the Earl of St Germans stroking his whippet, drinking wine and balancing a wreath of ivy on my head. I felt it earlier this month as I stood before fifty odd Stonewylde fans, all of whom had travelled a long way to spend the weekend together, and read them snippets of the fourth book Shadows at Stonewylde. And I felt it with a vengeance at the Elf Fantasy Fair, and most particularly on the Sunday morning there. I was honoured to be invited to join the King of the Elves and his entourage on the balcony above the castle, as he addressed the hordes below to officially open the castle to the public. I stood in my golden Lammas Queen ballgown, a circlet of corn and poppies on my head and a massive fan of woven wheat in my hands, and surveyed the huge crowds below on the bridge over the castle moat.

The ceremony was performed with due pomp and ceremony by King Gyan I . On the balcony stood various members of the royal party, several lackeys in chain mail and tabards and two lovely ladies in full mediaeval costume with hawks on their arms. If anyone has a photo of this please do send it to me! The crowd below were a bizarre bunch - everything from faeries, Star Wars characters, vampires, goblins, mediaeval peasants, archers and highwaymen to exotic Geisha girls and impossibly shod Goths. A strange thought passed through my head - four years ago in September I'd been a school teacher, standing before a class of teenagers with a white board marker in my hand. How did I get here?

Mr B and I had a truly amazing stay in the Netherlands. I don't think we have anything like this Elf Fantasy Fair in the UK. I'm not sure but I'd imagine the Goth weekend in Whitby is perhaps the closest we get to it. What was so brilliant was the spread of costumes and the diversity of ages. I saw babies dressed up in little faerie and elf outfits, with cobwebby gauze draped over their prams to protect them from the sunshine. There were many children running about in wonderful costumes having the time of their lives (how I'd have LOVED it as a child!). But there were also some really quite elderly people all dressed up beautifully and having a fantastic time. I even saw one very old man in a wheelchair wearing a vampire costume and top hat!

There was a huge amount of interest in Stonewylde and our room in the castle was packed from opening until closing time with visitors. Stefan Struik had billed me as a VIP and on arrival I was greeted by my own face grinning out from huge banners, both in the car park and hanging from the castle walls! That was something of a shock. The talks I gave were in a beautiful room complete with a throne (which I didn't sit on - even I have limits!). An exciting thing on the Saturday was a visit from Oliver Holzwarth, the bassist from Tarja's band who were playing that evening as the headliners. He bought all three Stonewylde books, saying they were on tour and he needed a good read to help him relax. He also bought our new Green Labyrinth T-shirt and promised to wear it on stage that evening. And he did! We felt so proud and of course he's on YouTube so loads of people will see our Stonewylde T-shirt.

By the time the fair closed on Sunday evening we were all absolutely shattered. But it was a really magical weekend, and I know that we'll be doing it again. There's another even bigger Elf Fantasy Fair every April, organised by the same people, in a castle near Amsterdam. I can't wait!!

The Elf Fantasy Fair - a weekend of pure magic

2009-09-25T14:40:00.005+01:00

Mr B and Kit in the Stonewylde room in the castle at Arcen

Two beautiful fantasy people in the castle gardens - Elf Fantasy Fair

The lovely autumn faerie flanked by death angels!

Kit goes walkabout in the castle gardens at the Elf Fantasy Fair

Last weekend Mr B and I travelled to the Netherlands to meet up with Sorcha, a devoted Stonewylde fan, and attend the Elf Fantasy Fair in Arcen. We had the most wonderful, magical weekend ever!

We arrived home on Monday night, having been away for several days, and it's been non-stop ever since. This evening we're travelling to Harrogate for a Health and Healing Festival, where I'm giving talks and doing book signings on both days. So this blog will be brief. But I'll continue next week because I really want to tell you all about the wonderful Elf Fantasy Fair and show you some more of our photos.

All I can say now is if you love dressing up (or watching other people dressing up) and enjoy make-believe, then this is the event for you. It was SPECTACULAR!!! And everyone was so very friendly and had such a great time there. The weather was perfect - that lovely golden September feel where it's warm and sunny but without the heat of summer. The castle was gorgeous and the grounds absolutely beautiful.

We had a wyldely successful weekend, introducing many Dutch, German and Belgian people to the world of Stonewylde. But above all we had a fantastic time, ably assisted by our Sorcha on Friday night and all of Saturday, and then Ebany (another Stonewylde fan) and his ladyfriend on Sunday. We really couldn't have coped without their help because with so many thousands of visitors streaming through our lovely room in the castle, it was really full on from opening time till closing time. Literally never a quiet moment. We were completely exhausted at the end of it. But very very happy.

More on the wonderful Elf Fantasy Fair next week when we're back from Harrogate.

Stonewylde Gathering - fun, frolics and a cake-fest

2009-09-14T21:26:00.006+01:00

Sujee leading a belly dancing workshop at Monkton Wyld

Rose teaches a group about the Tarot

Seawitch's gorgeous soaps on display - almost good enough to eat!

Faerieface's lovely workshop outside - making circlets from flowers and leaves

The wonderful cake-fest - I've never seen (nor eaten) so much cake in my life!

Stonewylders enjoying the entertainment on Saturday night - Ebany did us proud!

Some Stonewylders in their finery enjoying the party

This is a mostly pictorial blog today as I must make a start on the Autumn Equinox newsletter, and am also trying to pack for the Elf Fantasy Fair in the Netherlands as we're leaving the day after tomorrow!

Saturday at the Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering was pretty stress-free for me, thanks to my wonderful elfin assistant Sujee!! I'd asked her to organise it all and she did - so beautifully. Many of the Stonewylders coming to the Gathering had talents and skills, and it seemed a good idea to share these. So people "volunteered" to run workshops, and others then signed up for them - seemed like a good idea back in January. But logistically it all became a nightmare because SO MANY Stonewylders had things to offer! Poor Sujee - what a star she was, organising times, people, rooms, facilities, and endless lists.

In the end it all went like clockwork. There were loads of different workshops and sessions running all day, people could opt in or out whichever they felt like, and everyone it appeared had a brilliant time. I personally attended Lili's yoga session, followed by Sujee's belly-dancing, Cornmother's corn-dolly making, and also fitted in a sound-bath with Angela (what a special experience that was!) and a tarot reading with Magicwitch. I'd have loved to have done more - and there was loads more on offer. But there simply wasn't enough time in the day to fit it all in.

There was also a Stonewylde market running all day, where our talented folk could set up a little stall and sell their wares. We had beautiful paintings and cards from my sister Helixtree, Seawitch's delicious soaps, Where the Wild Roses Grows' divine jewellery, Nikki's adorable wood craft, Cornmother's exquisite corndollies, Nikwandmaker's gorgeous wooden dowsing rods and wands, and last but not least, Jaderaven's wonderful crystal jewellery. It was one of those situations where you wished you had a massive wad of cash to spend!

The weather was very kind to us all day. Rhiannon ran her chakra balancing outside, as did Faerieface with her circlet workshop (many of which were worn later) and Nik's Tree Energy walk. Ebany took a singing group, Greywolf a Native American Healing session, Rose a guided meditation and tarot workshops, and of course there was the yoga and dancing too. Many people offered one-to-one sessions in lovely things like reiki, head-massage, sound-baths, healing and much more. I've attended many health and healing/MBS events, and if we'd all paid for everything we did that Saturday, it would have cost a fortune. But every Stonewylder gave up their time and skills for free, sharing with each other in a real community event. It was such fun.

At 3.30 people began bringing their cakes into the dining room ready for the cake-fest. This was something that had started as a bit of a joke on our forum but quickly became very serious. Oh the cakes I tasted!! Leanne's chocolate caramel shortbread, Beantighe's coffee and walnut, somebody's divine carrot cake, my little neice Twiglet's mini apple-cakes, Rose's lavender biscuits ... there were many many more. I've never in my life seen so much scrumptious cake on offer all at once. When we left on the Sunday afternoon, much of it was still there and the Monkton Wyld staff were so excited!

After the workshops and market place were all finished, everyone had supper and then disappeared to make themselves beautiful for the Stonewylde Party! Ebany had kindly organised the evening's entertainment, and at 8pm we started to take our places in the Pine Hall. Dress code was very much as you please - wyld and extravagent or simply comfortable, but everyone had made a huge effort and people looked stunning. I've only put a couple of photos up here, but there are hundreds on our forum where people have posted theirs. If you join our community you'll be able to see just how splendid the Stonewylders looked that night.

It was a wonderful evening, with all sorts of entertainment once again provided by our talented Stonewylders. There was singing from Ebany, belly dancing from Sujee, music from Bilbo, a lovely didge dirge by Carp, poetry from Wisewitch, and the funniest comedy sketch I've seen in many years from Darcy, our own Stonewylde comedian. We had such a lovely time, and then the music started and there was dancing and general mayhem. People had brought their own drink and everyone shared, which was great.

We then all moved down to the campfire, again ably managed by Nik, and it was really quite bizarre to be sitting around a roaring blaze with people in the most strange costumes (ranging from corsetted goddess to highwayman to fairy to Villager) whilst AC/DC and Led Zep blasted out. I don't think Monkton Wyld has ever seen anything like it! What was especially lovely was the fact that many of the staff joined us, everyone sitting around the fire chatting, dancing and generally having a great time.

The party went on until the small hours but once again, Mr B took me off to bed even though I wanted to party on into the night. Sunday was to be my big, special day and he didn't want a jaded Kit letting the side down. What a wise man - and how lucky I am to be taken care of so ably! So once again I fell asleep with the sound of my lovely tribe all having a great time, for the music and laughter wafted into my wide 0pen window for several hours.

Harvest Moon at Monkton Wyld - magic in the air

2009-09-13T19:46:00.003+01:00

First meal in the dining room at Monkton Wyld

The Pine Hall all ready for our welcome get-together - calm before the wyldeness

The Stonewylde Harvest altar - all the things that makes Stonewylde special

Harvest Moon through glass - courtesy of Cornmother

Fifty strangers descending on a Victorian Gothic mansion for a full moon celebration - as I've said before, sounds like a recipe for disaster or the plot of a dodgy horror film. Yet last weekend was one of the best in my life, and I think that many of the people there felt the same. The first Stonewylde Gathering had been so very long in the planning, and had such high hopes pinned on it. I must admit that although I was really looking forward to meeting all these lovely people who were members of my forum and such ardent Stonewylde fans, I was really very worried that the weekend would be a disappointment to them, or maybe even a total disaster. It wasn't!

We arrived early, wishing the rain would clear, and got everything ready. Everyone had a little wooden pendant name-tag and a goody bag with a limited edition T-shirt inside, as well as some lovely gifts provided by Stonewylders. Cars started to roll in to the drive. Suddenly all those avatars on the forum became real people, many of them very nervous, several of them being extremely brave travelling alone to meet a bunch of strangers off the Internet. But they felt like old friends and were all soon either gathered in the kitchen chatting away, or unpacking their bags in their dorms and generally behaving like it was the first term back at Hogwarts. As somebody remarked - all they needed was the Sorting Hat to complete the picture.

After supper we met up in the Pine Hall for our first get-together, a welcome and an introduction to the weekend. Looking at the sea of expectant and slightly apprehensive faces, I felt as if I was back in class again addressing my new darlings for the start of term. We'd prepared a Stonewylde altar which remained in place all weekend, and on this were all the things that make Stonewylde what it is: a labyrinth, a crow, hares, barn owls, the Green Man, a pentacle and more. There was also a lovely seasonal Harvest collection: apples, corncobs, hazlenuts, conkers, tomatoes and wheat. It was beautiful, and as a backdrop was the great Stonewylde Wheel of the Year with all the symbols of the festivals.

Everyone nervously introduced themselves around the circle, most people pretty shy and unforthcoming despite their Internet chattiness. My son Olly had come along to generally help out with heavy things, and was also the official photographer. He's been very wary of coming - his now famous line being "You're not going to do any of that weird pagan stuff are you, Mum?" Poor Olly - he'll never be the same again. Although an early reader of the books (in manuscript form) he had no idea of the loyalty and enthusiasm of the Stonewylde readers, and it could be said that those present at the Gathering represented the hard core. I think Olly was bowled over by not only everyone's madness for Stonewylde, but also their sense of fun and friendliness. And that was probably the key to the weekend being the roaring success that it was. Nobody moaned or whinged, everyone was really friendly and chatted to whoever they found themselves next to, and we all found it hard to believe that we were actually there and having such a wonderful time. The goodwill and positive energy was quite overpowering.

After the welcome, we went outside onto the lawns to celebrate the Harvest Full Moon. Sorcha and Rose from the forum had very kindly organised this, with some assistance from Ebany and Sujee. As many Stonewylde readers aren't pagan, this was of course entirely voluntary. The celebration was very gentle and light, although beautiful and moving too, so that even people who would never normally stand outside in the darkness under a full moon, chanting, holding hands and partaking of the fruits of the earth, felt entirely at ease. It was a ceremony for honouring the beauty of the moon, a time of thanksgiving for the bounty of the Earth's Harvest, and an opportunity to commune with nature in a beautiful setting. It was very powerful in its simplicity.

A large crystal bowl of Monkton Wyld well-water sat in the centre of the circle and a Harvest Tree stood outside. Onto this folk hung their little messages - pieces of coloured paper on which they'd written thanks for some sort of harvest from the year. We took part in a lovely guided visualisation written by Sorcha, starting on the Village Green of Stonewylde and going into the woods. It was strange for me to hear somebody else leading people around the landscape of Stonewylde, and at one point I opened my eyes. It was a bizarre sight - a huge circle of people standing under the brilliant full moon, all lost in their dreams of Stonewylde. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I felt a deep welling of emotion that all the people there had entered my world, my creation. I was to experience this several times throughout the weekend and whatever happens to me and my books in the future, that feeling of joy and gratitude to my readers will never leave me.

We all sipped cider and ate a lovely poppy seed cake, baked by Rose. She'd also written one of her beautiful Full Moon Blessings for the occasion. I'm sure that some people expected weird effects afterwards but the crucial ingredients were missing - anyone who's read my books will know what I'm on about here!! And afterwards we hugged each other and wished everyone Bright Blessings, and Nik built the campfire into a roaring blaze. Many sat up around the fire singing for hours, but I was exhausted and Mr B took me off to bed.

I fell asleep with the bright silver light washing over me, and was bathed in Moon Magic all night. So far so good, I thought as I drifted off to sleep, smiling at the sound of footsteps and giggling down the corridor. The rain that had fallen intermittently all day had vanished as the moon rose and the night was clear and perfect. A great omen for the rest of our magical weekend.

Climb every mountain - well, one at least!

2009-09-10T20:55:00.007+01:00

Olly cooking sausages

The view from the campsite - Llyn Gwynant

A helping hand from my youngest son

At the summit of Snowdon - a great sense of achievement

I've never climbed a mountain before, from the bottom to the top. Therefore although I'm dying to blog more about our Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering (and will do so in the next day or so as I'm absolutely buzzing with it) I'm afraid my mountain experience has to be shared first. As I'm buzzing with that too!

My sons Olly and Will and I drove to Wales on Tuesday, arriving at Llyn Gwynant in the late afternoon. It's a beautiful campsite at the base of the mountains, right on a lake. Will had spent a fantastic few days there back in April with a group of friends. He'd convinced Olly and me that we'd love it, and we did. It was very basic and natural, with no marked pitches. I was a little alarmed by the expression on the man in the camp office's face when he said we could camp wherever we liked if we could find a dry spot. He didn't say this until we'd paid of course.

Much of the camp site had turned into marsh, it seemed. There were only three other tents in sight. I hadn't taken my wellies (as ever, ill prepared for the situation) but Olly was even worse - all he had to wear were jeans. At this point the persistent drizzle upped a notch into serious rain. And then the wind began to blow, and within a few minutes the clouds had closed in, billowing down the mountains and engulfing us in cold grey wetness. We paddled about trying to find a dry spot for our tent, the rain soaking Olly's jeans and "waterproof" jacket (Olly thinks if it's made with a nylon feel it must be waterproof) and my trainers.

We found a slightly drier bit right near the river that fed into the lake (I tried not to think of banks bursting etc) and began to unload things from the car, which had to be parked quite a long way away and on the other side of a large flooded bit. Squelch squelch. We bravely held onto the flapping tent, shoving poles through sockets, pushing tentpegs into the soggy, yielding ground (no need whatsoever for a mallet) and trying not to get the sleeping pods wet. I'd thought to direct the proceedings but Olly took over in a very manly fashion - must have been all that hard work at the Gathering over the weekend.

At last the tent was a little wonkily erected and all the stuff brought in from the car. I felt cold and miserable and couldn't possibly imagine sleeping that night with the gale bullying the tent in a very intimidating manner. It felt like it would take off at any moment. I wanted to go home. Or at least sleep in the car. My boys buoyed me up, making tea on the camping stove and then lighting the disposable barbeque we'd brought along. Olly sat outside in the rain cooking sausages whilst I huddled inside drinking hot tea and wrapped in a comforting blanket with Will trying to cheer me up. Strange, I thought to myself. All those years of making the best of it for them, jollying them along, supporting them ....

By the time supper was ready the wind had died completely and the rain had eased off back into an annoying drizzle again. It's amazing how hot food and drink alter ones perspective. Will went off to find a fire basket and buy fire wood and was determined to light a cheerful fire to warm us up even further. He struggled for ages with damp wood and the falling rain, and we nearly ran out of newspaper and kindling (having not thought to bring fire-lighters of course). Poor Will was really disappointed as he'd been looking forward to making a good blaze - a primeval thing I suspect - but then we hit on the idea of using the camping stove to get the kindling to burn. That combined with Will blowing gently did the trick and we soon had a lovely fire roaring. At that point we all felt very happy to be in a tent at the bottom of a Welsh mountain.

Something weird happened with the weather during the night. Not only had the wind dropped, but all the clouds disappeared, to such an extent that the brilliant moonlight actually woke Will up. I slept very soundly, cosy and contented to hear owls calling. And the next morning we awoke at 7am to clear blue skies! After the horrendous arrival the day before, this was amazing. Bacon butties were cooked, tea brewed and walking socks pulled on. Olly was now committed to shorts as his jeans were sodden, but other than that we were quite sensible about taking lots of layers, waterproofs, hats and gloves. Will told us how in April they'd been freezing climbing up Snowdon.

A quick visit to the shower block brought a lovely sight - four fluffy swallows sitting in a row in the rafters of the building, watching me brush my teeth. They seemed perfectly tame, chatting amongst themselves, and even allowed the boys to sneak in to take a look.
"Get going to Africa!" I wanted to say to them. "Hurry or you'll be late and will perish on the way if you linger here in Wales any longer."

We drove to the base of Snowdon and set off on our ascent, full of high spirits as the sun shone, clouds scudded and birds sang. It was beautiful, with sunlight shafting down through the woodland and the constant sound of running water in our ears. Everywhere there was water, cascading in the river, running in gullies along the side of the track, dripping over mossy stones into pools and ferns at the bottom. The track changed subtly as we tramped along, becoming stonier and then rockier as the farm land and trees were left behind.

Sheep were everywhere and we loved their tails! Why are they left on in Wales? Or rather, why are they chopped off everywhere else? The sheep looked so clean (must be all that rain) and were very noisy, full of gossip when they managed to break away from the serious business of eating grass. Gradually the terrain changed and then we were in the proper mountain base, with rocks and a much steeper gradient.

It was at this point that I began to realise the enormity of what we were doing. Up until then it hadn't seemed real. The summit of Snowdon loomed far, far above, sulking in a bit of grey cloud. All around us were massive mountains - peaks and ridges - towering above and dwarfing us. We kept on, stopping quite regularly for bits of Galaxy. Oh yes, I'd read all about emergency rations! Various hardy souls overtook us - mostly youngsters in their late teens in groups. One man passed us smoking a cigarette! I realised that for various reasons (all very valid) I hadn't really done much proper hard exercise since my 5Km run back in July. However, every time I congratulated myself on doing this in my fifties with no proper training, some hardy looking soul with white hair, deep wrinkles and very stringy legs would go bombing past in serious walking boots and put me to shame!

My boys were brilliant, supporting me when I flagged a bit, helping me up the tricky bits (and it really was hard work at times) and carrying most of my stuff in their bags. I recalled all the trips we'd done twenty or so years before, when I'd been the one doing all the carrying and fussing. It's a wonderful thing when your babies grow up and start to take care of you.

We were crossing a long ridge, just before the final very challenging bit, when suddenly a large black bird flew close overhead making a strange noise. A raven! That gave the whole thing a new dimension for me. Then another raven joined him, both of them swooping and drifting around us, making their strange "cruk" cries as they circled around us.

Finally, after some strenuous proper climbing using hands and rocks, we reached the summit. I thought of the Overlook Hotel in the Shining. We climbed the steps to the bronze sundial at the highest point - apparently you have to touch this to say you've climbed to the top of Snowdon. It was a wonderful sense of achievement, and so very beautiful there. Words can't describe the vast greenness and folds and folds of mountains. The sun was blazing down on us and we were in T-shirts when out of the breeze - a glorious day with brilliant blue skies.

We drank tea in the Overlook cafe, sneakily ate our packed lunches hoping we wouldn't be chucked out, and smugly looked weary in front of the hordes who'd taken the little train to the top. All was well until the point when I tried to stand again and found my legs had given up. They'd locked solid and refused to bend in the middle like they should. I hobbled down the steps from the cafe and we began to head back, taking a different route this time.

We walked a long way along the ridge that forms part of Snowdon, all the time my knees protesting loudly that they'd really had enough. Then my toes started to join in, rubbing against my boots and feeling much bigger than usual. It was difficult to climb down the steep rocky bits. Both boys took turns in helping me, and eventually after three and a half hours of descent we were on the track leading back into the farmland and almost at the car. I was so glad to sit down, but didn't dare take my boots off yet.

Back at the campsite, still bathed in glorious sunshine, we began to pack up. I insisted on a cup of tea before that long drive home, and was not impressed when the tent started to collapse around my ears literally. Will and Olly found this hysterical - me sitting with a mug of tea and the tent draped all over me. My sense of humour had completely vanished. I was dreading the drive back to Reading - all 237 miles of it.

Finally all was packed and stowed away in the car. I'd abandoned my boots and put on my wet trainers. We stopped in the nearest town (it had a very Welsh name which I'm afraid I can't remember) and devoured the most delicious fish and chips ever, and then began the long trek home. We finally arrived home close to midnight. Mr B had a very deep and very hot bath waiting for me, all bubbly and candle-lit with incense burning. A perfect end to a perfect day.

I don't know if I'll ever climb Snowdon again, although I certainly intend to return there to share the beauty of the campsite and the whole area with Mr B. But it was a tremendous sense of achievement to have done it, and a great experience to have been looked after so well by two of my babies.

The Gathering of a lifetime ...

2009-09-07T22:55:00.005+01:00

Cornmother "Crying the Neck" at the Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering

I can't believe it's all over! Months and months of planning and preparation, and now the Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering 2009 is over. Already becoming the stuff of legends.

I simply can't blog properly now. I am totally exhausted and tomorrow I'm leaving Reading with two of my sons to head for the Welsh mountains. Yes, we're going to climb Snowdon! I spent quite a while today unloading all the things from the Gathering out of the car, and reloading it with things for our mountain camping trip.

So sadly I can't now share the glorious details of the Gathering with you, and will have to postpone this pleasure until Thursday. But suffice it to say that the weekend was an absolutely roaring success. Everything was perfect, right down to the totally clear sky on Friday night which enabled us to perform a beautiful full moon ritual out in the open with the Harvest Moon shining down on us in silver glory.

I can truthfully say that this was one of the best weekends of my whole life. To be amongst fifty people who all share a love of my creation of Stonewylde was bliss - and then to discover that you actually like these people and find their company such fun - well, all I can say is that I really didn't want it to end.

When I return I'll share more of the experience of the Harvest Moon Gathering with you, but if you're desperate to read more in the meantime, do take a look at our online community. Today it's been going crazy as members post their comments, blogs and photos of the brilliant weekend in Dorset. Monkton Wyld was the perfect venue, as I'm sure you'll see from the photos. And if you do join our community, make sure you read Darcy's blog about the Gathering. That man is seriously talented.

Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering!

2009-09-03T21:02:00.003+01:00

Kit Berry at Monkton Wyld (copyright Graphic-Photo-Arts)

I can't believe it - after almost a year of planning, the Harvest Moon Gathering is here! Mr B, Olly and I are just about to leave for Dorset. Tomorrow night is the Harvest Moon, and we'll be in Dorset with all those wonderful Stonewylde fans.

I feel immensely honoured that fifty people are coming from far and wide to join together in the name of Stonewylde. There are fans travelling from all corners of the UK and three from the Netherlands! It should be a wylde weekend and we've got loads of things planned.

I'll put up lots of posts and pics next week, but in the meantime - Bright Harvest Moon Blessings to all!

Raiders of the Lost Dolmen

2009-09-02T21:24:00.003+01:00

The sunken Dolmen at Carnac - in cruciform shape

Close up of sunken dolmen - see dry stonework

Our discovery - full up with leaves

Close up in our discovered dolmen - note the dry stonework!

This is my last blog (for now) about our wonderful holiday in Brittany. I'm so lucky that Mr B shares my love of megaliths! It was his idea to spend most of our holiday visiting some of the famous sites, and of course I was overjoyed. This was my idea of heaven and it was great to have someone to share it with.

I've already written about our visit to Carnac, but I didn't tell you about the sunken dolmen we saw there. It was really off the beaten track at the quiet end, down a little road that said "Private". But then was signposted "Dolmen" so we cycled half a mile or so and eventually found it. This was not like any dolmen I've seen before - usually they're a large capstone set on two or more upright stones - and they're above ground.

This one was long - you can see from the first photo above just how big it is. It's cruciform in shape, which means it has two side bits going off the main passage. I haven't read anything yet about these types of dolmen but it seemed to me they might have been underground chambers rather than open like they are now. They could have been much deeper originally but filled up with soil over the years maybe. Perhaps they had more capstones over the top to form a roof. These would have been much easier to construct I'd have thought - dig out a trench and chamber, line it with dry stone walling and some upright stones, then top the whole thing with a massive stone roof that can be slid over rather than raised up. Surely raising those massive capstones to any height must have been the hardest thing of all. And of course there's a little end chamber too, a very special hidden place. This is just my guess-work you understand! If anyone knows more, and I'm sure many of you do, please enlighten me.

These sunken dolmens are so interesting, and a different concept to the ones above ground. We'd already seen the passage-tomb covered by a cairn on the Island of Gavrinis. We'd also seen the huge upright dolmen (the most common sort I believe) at La Loge aux Loups. But this sunken one was a new thing to me and I found it fascinating. I imagined it all covered over, with the entrance and exit at the sides. I could picture people dressed in their ceremonial best, the interior decorated beautifully and lit with guttering flames, our ancestors taking part in some sort of sacred ritual.

A couple of days later we visited La Loge aux Loups again, but this time a couple were sitting there having a picnic. At our private dolmen! So we decided to explore the woods and return later, and set off on a lovely wandering walk through the woodland. I really enjoy these sort of walks with Mr B because we never get properly lost, as I sometimes do when I'm on my own. After a while we noticed some massive mossy mounds lying amongst the trees and went to investigate. Yes, sure enough they were megaliths! Fallen ones, which were covered with thick emerald green moss. The further we went, the more stones we noticed. Bearing in mind we were close to the massive dolmen at La Loge aux Loups, we released that probably the whole area was a sacred site with all sorts of megaliths, perhaps even like a mini Carnac originally.

The woodland was overgrown with very little sign of any human activity at all. Then we noticed some more stones, went to look more closely, and almost fell into a pit of dead leaves. It was a long thin pit - and something clicked! Could it be another sunken dolmen???? We started to examine the sides of the pit, and were both struck by a great bolt of excitement and delight - the sides weren't made of earth but of stone! Much of it was covered with moss, but if you scraped this off a bit you hit stone - and some in the same dry-stone style as the dolmen at Carnac (and the long barrow at West Kennet for that matter).

We didn't excavate. It was getting late and we needed to get back. It was also our last day there, so we resolved to return another year and find our own secret dolmen again. Mr B took a close up photo of what we could see of the end-chamber bit - you can see this in the fourth photo above. We may be wrong of course about it being a dolmen, but this pit was most definitely a man-made thing. It had filled up with leaves and earth, and there were even trees growing inside, but it was lined with a mixture of huge stones and the dry-stone walling and was big. All around it there were massive megaliths lying on the ground, camouflaged with thick moss. We were pretty sure that we'd stumbled on an ancient site, and I really can't tell you how exciting that felt!

Tomorrow evening we set off for Dorset, for the Harvest Moon Gathering. I shall try to do a quick blog before we go, time permitting. I've been going crazy today but I think it's nearly all sorted. Strange to think of all those Stonewylders all over the country preparing for it too - and I bet they're as excited as I am.

Neolithic splendour in Brittany - Carnac and Gavrinis

2009-08-31T16:53:00.007+01:00

The amazing megaliths of Carnac - a small selection

Just two of the beautiful carved stones inside the passage tomb at Gavrinis.
Photo courtesy of Guided Tours France as normal photography is forbidden inside.

Exterior and entrance to the cairn on the Island of Gavrinis.

Any photo of Carnac can barely do it justice. This has got to be one of the most amazing sights (and sites) ever. Rows and rows of standing stones, some much taller than a man and some smaller than a toddler, march across the landscape in long wobbly lines. There are gaps (deliberate or the passage of time?) and dolmens off to the side, and from nowhere apart from the sky can you get a picture of the whole thing.

I visited Carnac seven years ago with two of my sons, on a cold and leaden-skied day in August. We parked and looked (in the height of the season you can't wander amongst the stones - too much erosion) then parked a bit further on and looked again. It was impressive and enjoyable but I didn't really get a sense of the size of the site. This time I saw Carnac a much better way, and one that I thoroughly recommend. We parked the car at the far end, away from the Visitor Centre, and we unloaded our bikes from the roof. Camera at the ready, we then spent the next three hours or so until after sunset exploring on our bikes. This was the most brilliant way to see and appreciate the full splendour of the stones.

First we found a sunken dolmen (more about this in my next blog - which will be my last on Brittany for a while as the Gathering looms!) and then we cycled the 4Kms along the road and sometimes off-road on the paths all along the highway of stones. We climbed the little tower for a better view and even managed at one point to get lost in some woods. It doesn't take much where I'm concerned, having no sense of direction at all. We popped into the Visitors' Centre just before it closed and quickly watched an amazing film about Carnac. I didn't understand a word but the images were stunning. And Mr B bought me a very pretty T-shirt which featured a pattern from the other mind-blowing place we'd seen earlier.

We then cycled the whole way back along the road, and the sun which had been coy all day decided to blaze out in August glory, casting golden light onto the stones and creating long hazy shadows as it sunk lower in the sky. It was the most lovely cycle ride back and I really would recommend this as being the best way to experience Carnac, other than perhaps a helicopter of course. And that would be too noisy anyway.

The other place we visited earlier this day was somewhere else I really recommend (I can feel a Stonewylde tour of the Sacred Sites of Brittany coming on!) - the Island of Gavrinis, in the huge Gulf of Morbihan. This is only reached by boat, and is a tiny uninhabited island. In the centre is a great mound - just like any old hill really - but it hides an incredible secret. It's actually a cairn covering a passage tomb, and the front has been exposed to show the incredible stonework. It reminded me a little of the old air-raid shelter we had in our back garden in the house where I was born. From the outside and the back, all you could see was a mound of earth and grass. However the likeness stopped there - the cairn had a massive diameter of 50 metres with no corrugated iron in sight!

Inside, the passage was about 14 metres long, and completely stone lined. Great blocks of smooth stone form the floor, whilst the walls and ceiling are made of similarly enormous stones but these are intricately decorated. The patterns are beautiful and I longed to take photos, but this was forbidden. The carvings are so delicate and cover every bit of each stone. The passage tomb is lit by tiny floor lights so it was quite dark and very atmospheric indeed. I had to stoop in places but at the end, in the widest bit, I could stand fully upright (although I am only 5' 3").

Everyone talks of these places being graves and tombs, but I can't help but feel myself that perhaps they served other purposes too. I felt very humbled and emotional inside, especially because I was very naughty and whilst the French guide was explaining things outside to the group, I sneaked in alone and stood there for a few minutes in the womb of stone entirely alone. I tried to open my mind to the ancestors who'd built such a mind-boggling place and had spent so much time and effort making it beautiful.

Apparently the cairn at Gavrinis was built about 3500 BCE, before New Grange in Ireland and Stonehenge in England, and about 1000 years before the Great Pyramids of Egypt. Despite the massive exterior diameter of 50 metres, the inside part is quite small and only 2.5 metres at its widest point at the end. It was used for a long time, but then abruptly many hundreds of years later was deliberately sealed off and hidden away under its mound of earth, looking for all the world just like an innocent hillock.

Just to complete our little history lesson for Mr B (and anyone else not sure of these terms - including me!) - a cairn is a man-made pile of stones often used to mark a burial place but with many other uses too, often just monumental. A passage tomb or grave is what it says - a passage or corridor leading to a burial chamber, sometimes with side chambers too like the one at West Kennet near Avebury. I'm still not happy about classifying these places as graves, despite remains having been found in them (usually from a much later date, I believe). I feel that they were used too for ceremonies, magic, rituals - shamanic journeying perhaps. But maybe that's just me being silly and fanciful.

A dolmen on our doorstep

2009-08-29T16:14:00.005+01:00

The dolmen near our campsite - La Loge Aux Loups

We were absolutely delighted to learn that not only was our lakeside campsite in Brittany beautiful, tranquil and very cheap (see last blog) but also it was very close to a dolmen! I was very excited about this, especially as Mr B told me that the name roughly translated to "Wolves' Lair". It wasn't until we approached the secluded spot that I discovered the Mr B didn't really know what a dolmen was - other of course than being prehistoric stones. I know that I'd mentioned the dolmen at Stonewylde in several places throughout the books, but somehow he'd missed the point of what a dolmen actually is. This made me realise that perhaps many Stonewylde readers also didn't appreciate the finer points of prehistoric architecture, which could well be my fault as I'm certainly not an authority on the subject and perhaps hadn't really described things as well as I could.

So here's the Wikipedia definition:

A dolmen (also known as cromlech, anta, Hünengrab, Hunebed, Goindol, quoit, and portal dolmen) is a type of single-chamber megalithic tomb, usually consisting of three or more upright stones supporting a large flat horizontal capstone (table). Most date from the early Neolithic period (4000 to 3000 BC). Dolmens were usually covered with earth or smaller stones to form a barrow, though in many cases that covering has weathered away, leaving only the stone "skeleton" of the burial mound intact. "Dolmen" originates from the expression taol maen, which means "stone table" in Breton.

The Loge aux Loups was beautiful. It was reached by a winding path through woodland, and set in a grove of oak trees. It felt very special and magical there, and during our stay we visited it several times, only once coming across other people there. As ever, the mind boggled as to how people had ever constructed such an edifice. The photo with me in it shows just how massive the capstone is. I collected many fallen acorns and hope to grow my own little Breton oak tree in memory of that very ancient and sacred place and a wonderful holiday.

We saw other dolmen during our stay, and I realise now that not only are there many of them in Brittany, but all over the world. Including Stonewylde! Here's a little bit from "Magus of Stonewylde" with the first mention of the dolmen that Clip likes to use for his shamanic journeys:

Up ahead, built almost on the summit of the hill, was a strange stone structure. Two massive upright stones formed an entrance, capped by a great horizontal stone creating a roof. Sylvie paused and stared. It looked prehistoric. Then she noticed a thin trickle of smoke above the stone shelter, and a movement inside caught her eye ...

Municipal campsite heaven

2009-08-27T22:15:00.006+01:00

Our beautiful campsite in Brittany - flowers, a lake, a decorated silver birch - pure heaven!

This is going to be a quickie I'm afraid as I have to write a guest blog for The Bookseller tonight and am also up to my eyes with organising the Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering. I can't believe that this time next week we'll be sleeping in Dorset, all ready to zip over to the Gothic manion on the Friday and get things set up for our 50 guests!

So I've copped out a little tonight and have posted a few holiday snaps. These were all taken at our campsite, which was pure heaven. We hadn't booked to stay anywhere, but set off intrepidly from Cherbourg and the ferry with our tent, our bikes and a lot of accumulated stress to offload. I was almost a French campsite virgin (last time was when I was fifteen which was an awful long time ago) and Mr B hadn't been for a while. He'd explained to me about municipal campsites in France but to be honest I thought they sounded a bit dodgy. Maybe it's the word "municipal" - it conjures up images of nasty swimming pools and lots of people doing things cheaply. But looking at our little guidebook of French campsites, we'd already decided the most important feature our chosen site must have was the little bird symbol. No, not Twitter! Tranquille! It just had to be tranquille.

I take back everything I ever thought about municipal campsites. Ours was absolutely perfect. With pitches for 30 tents or campervans, there were only about 5 taken. We were on the edge of a lake, surrounded by beautiful trees with hedges between each pitch. Not that there was anyone near us. There were massive hydrangeas, a spotlessly clean shower and toilet block, lots of hot water and no mosquitoes at all. Talk about tranquille - the only thing that disturbed me at night time was the hooting of owls.

We watched swallows swooping over the lake, the fish jumping, and I even had the fun of creating my own little natural arrangement around our silver birch tree. We could both feel our cares and worry lines melting away, soothed by the friendliness and politeness of the French people around us. And one of the best things of all was the cost - all in for about 9 Euros a night!

Brittany - a magical land

2009-08-25T12:12:00.004+01:00

A Fairy Ring and the Cordon des Druides in a beech forest in Brittany

We arrived home late last night from our week's holiday in Brittany. I awoke this morning with that strange feeling of displacement that you get when you find yourself back in your old familiar bed. I was blissfully comfortable, having slept whilst away on an inflatable mat in a sleeping bag that was either suffocatingly warm or horribly shivery - although that could be down to my age of course. But my head was filled with the normal old noises coming in through the window - the distant roar of the M4 and white vans going off to work all down the street. No more birds singing around us right above our heads, silver birch leaves falling gently onto the roof of the tent, happy little French children playing in the distance. The holiday was over and Mr B was once more rushing off to work. Just flick a switch on the kettle rather than light the camping gas and brush the leaves, slugs and pine needles off the folding table.

We had the most wonderful, brilliant time. We've had some pretty fabulous holidays in our short time together, probably peaking with our honeymoon in the Maldives, but I can honestly say that our week in Brittany was up there with the best of them. We took our bikes and the tent and no plan at all, and found a perfect campsite right on a lake (miraculously with no mozzies whatsoever, although a very loud owl did its best to keep us awake every night). We forgot for a week about work and e-mails and deadlines and had the most relaxing yet energising time ever.

I shall write during the week about some of the amazing sacred sites and ancient stones we visited. I hadn't realised just how many there are in Brittany and we obviously only saw a fraction of them. We have some beautiful photos too - but for now, because I have a vast amount of e-mails and paper mail to deal with, an estate car still packed tight to get to grips with, and a Gathering of my Stonewylders next week to organise, I shall stop here today. I hope you like the photos above, which were taken in a beautiful beech forest near Fougeres.

Off to Brittany!

2009-08-17T21:44:00.006+01:00

The new and the old - Red Arrows and the Three Old Faithfuls - Spitfire, Lancaster and Hurricane

I spent Saturday in Eastbourne, not Canterbury as originally planned. We're off on our hols to Brittany tonight and the visit to in-laws had been long arranged. Airborne : Eastbourne is apparently the largest free airshow in the south of England, and a bit of a family tradition. My in-laws live right on the seafront at Eastbourne looking out over the sea - absolutely perfect viewing for the airshow.

We were meant to visit on the Sunday and I was due to be in Canterbury on Saturday. And leaving for France Monday night. But it was all too much and sometimes you have to say, "Actually I can't do all this." I think generally we're quite bad at admitting this and try to do everything, which is why we're all so stressed. So - Canterbury was sadly cancelled for me (I'd been really looking forward to the Goddess Festival, not least to seeing Damh the Bard again), Eastbourne was moved to the Saturday and Sunday was packing day for our holiday. We're camping and cycling so there's a lot to organise - it's not just a swimming cossy and suncream!

The airshow was, as ever, spectacular. There's something so very emotional about seeing those old Second World War aircraft fly past - it's always brings a lump to my throat. I said to my young step-son that by the time he's a father, his children would probably never see such a sight as the old originals in flight.

Maybe because I was brought up in the sixties on a diet of old war films with RAF pilots and squadrons of planes flying over enemy territory and lovely young women in fitted uniforms and glossy curled hair that rolled up at the back - I can't help feeling the poignancy and nostagia of watching these old aeroplanes still taking to the skies. My parents (both now dead) used to tell me many tales of their childhood, both living in the outskirts of London as children during the war. My father as a young boy was obsessed with fighter planes, as were many lads of that time. The house where he lived in Kingston-on-Thames, and where I lived as a young child too many years later, still had its air-raid shelter in the back garden. My father remembered digging it out with his father.

Watching these lovely old planes and then fast modern ones like the beautiful Red Arrows and the Eurofighter which gave us an incredible performance on Saturday, is such an amazing experience and one of which I'll never tire. We had a wonderful day and the sun shone for most of it.

And now we're almost ready to go. I've been frantically getting ready all day, mostly sorting out Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering stuff. We'll be spending a week in Brittany and we're planning on visiting Carnac and some of the other megalithic sites. I haven't been clever enough to organise guest bloggers for my absence so I'm afraid there'll be radio silence here for a week. But I hope to wow you on my return with lovely photos of standing stones.

As one of my Stonewylders said this evening, "Soak up some earth energy at Carnac, Kit. You'll need it for the Gathering!"

Sujee and a load of hot air

2009-08-14T10:17:00.009+01:00

Sujee and Bilbo INSIDE the balloon, and taking off over Littlecote

Last night Sujee and I met up to start sorting out all the workshops and skills offered for the Stonewylde Gathering. But first, Sujee suggested I meet her at Littlecote House near Hungerford to see her new partner in action. This is the famous Bilbo we've been hearing so much about on the forum.

I don't think jobs come more glamorous than this - Bilbo is a balloonier. Actually I don't know if that's the correct term - I just made it up because it sounds a bit French and Jules Verne! The guy flies hot air balloons for a living!!! I've always wanted to fly in one, and so has Mr B, and it's one of those things you promise to do one day. Someone told me the other night about a phrase "the bucket list". This is a list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket, and something that people tend to make when they reach 50 and realise they're not immortal! And also that some things have to be done whilst the body's still in reasonable nick. Flying in a hot air balloon is definitely on our Bucket List, so being invited last night to actually watch one take off was very exciting indeed.

What is it with me and cameras? I took loads of great shots last night. Got home and they were all completely out of focus. It turned out the camera had been left on "macro". So the two grainy photos above were probably the best of the bunch which is really sad as it was a beautiful, warm August evening with long shadows and gold-dust in the air. The balloon was so bright and perfect, Bilbo was absolutely gorgeous (far more of a Frodo actually, but a young Robert Powell also sprang to mind) and it was fascinating going inside the balloon whilst it was still on the ground and being inflated with a fan. I hadn't realised you could do this.

Once the balloon was inflated, Bilbo began to blast it with a massive flame, like a dragon breathing life into his flying machine. Sujee was jumping about demonstrating her complete understanding of the whole process and sparkling with pride at her catch, and meanwhile Littlecote House glittered in the golden Lammas sunlight and reminded me so much of the Hall from Stonewylde.

Bilbo flew away over the trees with his captives, and Sujee and I drove off to the pub where we spent a lovely evening making lists. She's very efficient, which is why I wanted to rope her into helping me. I'm definitely not very efficient! She tried to decipher my green biro scribbles and muttered something about school teacher's writing and how mine wasn't very typical - more like a doctor's writing. But soon the list had morphed into something logical and legible in bold black ink, and now the whole organisation of workshops (reiki, dancing, corndolly-making, birdwatching, singing, drumming etc etc) is in Sujee's capable hands. Phew!

Planning for the Stonewylde Gathering

2009-08-13T13:15:00.006+01:00

Monkton Wyld in Dorset - exterior and one of the rooms we'll be using for workshops

Well the order for the T-shirts finally went off today. Why does everything get so complicated just when you can't cope with it? I spent a lot of time working on a design, only to be told by Mr B that it was unusable. He's now created the final design himself using computer graphics, and it looks good - simple but effective. I was also told at the last minute by the printers that we could order a variety of sizes for the same price (we're buying the T-shirts ourselves as a gift for our loyal Stonewylders but need to keep the cost down). So last night I was frantically trying to contact people to find out which size they'd like. Aren't we all so different? Some are small but want big and baggy. Some like to show off their assets. Some have no idea at all! But the Harvest Moon T-shirts are ordered now and if they're wrong, it's too late to change them.

This evening I'm meeting up with a Stonewylder to plan the workshops and market. We're meeting at a very unusual venue and I hope to have a photo to show you tomorrow! People have offered their skills to run a variety of free workshops for the Saturday, and others are bringing their wares to sell, trade or barter with. The offers for workshops look great. We're going to have lots of stuff like belly-dancing, drumming, folk-singing and other things that we can maybe perform in the evening at the party.

There are also talented people who can offer to teach things like corn-dolly making, head-dresses, yoga and an introduction to tarot reading. And then we have other lovely activities such as guided meditation, sound therapy, reiki and healing. I've been to lots of festivals this year where people are charging a great deal of money for these type of activities; obviously they have high overheads to cover. But how wonderful that our Stonewylders are prepared to share their gifts for free!

Tonight Sujee and I have got to sort out the logistics of rooms, resources, a time-table etc. The room in the photo above is a lovely big downstairs communal room - a little short on furniture but there are cushions. I remember this room when I was on a course at Monkton Wyld many years ago in January. It was absolutely freezing!! But hopefully the beginning of September will be balmy and warm, and it would be great if we could run some of the activities outside. This is the room where I hope Sujee will teach belly-dancing, and where maybe Ebany can do his folk-singing workshop later on.

Yesterday I sent out a press-release about the Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering, and one of the things I said was how this may be a one-off event. We have so many new members in our online community, and lots of them are hoping to make it to the next gathering. But remembering the logistics of trying to organise this one, I do wonder what will happen in the future. Still, we can but see. It would be wonderful to have an annual event for Stonewylders. If only I owned somewhere like Port Eliot!

T-shirt teasers for Monkton Wyld weekend

2009-08-11T21:01:00.005+01:00

Kit Berry at Monkton Wyld, Dorset, copyright Graphic Photo-Arts

It's Tuesday today. I've spent the last few days since Sunday trying to sort out the special limited edition T-shirt for the Stonewylde Harvest Moon Gathering. It's all been a bit of a nightmare really, and it can only get worse as the weekend approaches.

Is it unusual for a bunch of people who've read a set of books to want to meet up? To form friendships and even for one pair, a relationship, and to then go off for a whole weekend, at some cost to themselves, to spend time with a group of strangers? Sounds like the plot for a dodgy film - the sort where you groan when they say they'll split up to search the dingy, nasty corridors and you know there's a mad axeman or equivalent waiting around the corner.

Well - this is what's happening during the first weekend of September. It's the Harvest Moon, and for those not in the know, this is the name of the full moon that rises in September, and is often, due to the atmospheric conditions, blood red in colour. And this moon is very significant too in the Stonewylde novels but we won't go into that here. Although the admonishments of my erstwhile agent Clare Pearson still ring in my ears, "You can't have a rape in the first chapter!"

Ages ago Mr B set up the Stonewylde community to help me cope with the Stonewylde fans. I never imagined this effect when I wrote the books, but somehow people are quite often profoundly affected by the books and are loathe to leave them behind when they're finished. So they used to write to me, to thank me. Which was absolutely lovely (and still gives me a huge thrill) but then after I'd replied, they'd reply, so I felt I should reply ..... clearly once this involved a few people it was impossible to maintain. So Mr B had the idea of starting a community for fans and readers of the books. I was very sceptical indeed. Why on earth would anyone want to join? Surely if you were into social networking you'd already belong to lots of sites and certainly wouldn't bother with one that related solely to Stonewylde. What would there be to say of any interest?

Mr B set up our original community site, a simple forum, in April of 2007. It was very like throwing a party - sitting there in the gloom hoping that people would arrive. And they did! Lots and lots of them, slowly but surely, and very soon I realised that actually Stonewylde was something a bit more than just a series of books I'd written whilst working as a schoolteacher. I realised I'd created something a bit special, something that had taken on a life of its own.

We launched the new community, http://www.stonewylde.net/ on Dec 24th 2008. There was a lot of moaning at first from the old faithfuls who didn't like the new format (especially a weird Welshman called Carp), but the new site has gone from strength to strength. However, prior to this, last summer a new rumbling had begun amongst the Stonewylde troops. They wanted a proper gathering. A get-together on a grand scale. There was talk of camping, of hiring a field somewhere, of maybe taking over a campsite or even organising a marquee. It quickly escalated, mild speculation rapidly flaring into a great conflagration of excitement, with people posting their ideas of where everyone could meet up.

Because I was the creator of Stonewylde I felt responsible. If this Gathering, organised by the fans for the fans, was a complete disaster then I'd be responsible really. So I thought that I should step in and take over. After a bit of searching about I decided to take the plunge and book Monkton Wyld. This is a Gothic mansion in Dorset, a holistic centre where I'd stayed few times on various courses over the years. What a huge decision! A bit like that film whose name escapes me now (please someone make a comment below and remind me!) with the baseball field, I had to have faith that "they would come". I booked Monkton Wyld. The whole mansion for the whole weekend. It was a huge act of faith in my loyal followers that they wouldn't let me down and leave me to foot a massive bill.

And now almost a year later, the date is nearly upon us. I'm up to my eyes designing a special limited edition T-shirt to give to everyone in their goody bag on arrival. In the next few days I shall blog a bit more about this special weekend. Meanwhile I have to get back to work now and start making a list of people who have offered to play instruments and perform at the Stonewylde party on the Saturday night! Oh it's a hard life.

Swine flu hits our household!

2009-08-05T10:05:00.006+01:00

I decided to blog about this to put anyone's mind at rest who may be worrying about catching the disease, and how bad it really is. Swine flu arrived in our house last week and hopefully is now about to leave! So far Mr B and I seem to have avoided catching it, which is amazing given the fact that we're all in the same house together and I've been caring for my son since the first symptoms struck. Of course I may be speaking too soon here!

I remember when this potential pandemic began back in April of this year, it was really very frightening. There's a balance to be struck between reporting news and keeping everyone well informed, and actually fuelling fears and creating wide-spread panic. At one point I really felt it to be the latter, with the media reporting almost by the minute where the flu had spread, how many cases, and then bombarding us with terrifying statistics about death from flu.

I remember in school learning that more people died globally from the pandemic of Spanish flu that began in 1918, than died in the First World War. I've just looked up the statistics on a BBC News website, where the pig picture above also came from, and it states that:

"1918: The Spanish flu pandemic remains the most devastating outbreak of modern times. Caused by a form of the H1N1 strain of flu, it is estimated that up to 40% of the world's population were infected, and more than 50 million people died, with young adults particularly badly affected."

This dreadful statistic does explain why the World Health Organisation were so worried earlier this year. Swine flu is also of the H1N1 strain, and again young people were affected rather than the elderly. The number of deaths each year from flu are frighteningly high, but this seems to be normally due to the elderly developing respiratory problems and complications, rather than young and supposedly healthier people dying. If the 1918 pandemic killed more than 50 million people, imagine what could happen today with the vastly increased effects of globalisation.

I really felt for that Scottish couple who first contracted this swine flu. How scary must it be to feel ill and know the country is watching, wondering after all the horror stories whether death is imminent. So when my youngest son, the 21 year old who graduated a couple of weeks ago, started to feel ill, our immediate reaction was that maybe it was swine flu.

There were signs on our doctor's surgery door and our local pharmacy saying "DO NOT ENTER IF YOU THINK YOU HAVE SWINE FLU!". The news was still reporting huge numbers of new cases, and Will said that lots of people had been off work. He works in HMV at the moment, which is staffed largely by under-25s, and with the school holidays upon us, probably mostly visited by teenagers and youngsters. So if this flu is mostly affecting the young, statistically he was bound to contract it.

His symptoms were a high temperature, feeling very ill, aching all over, severe shooting pains in the back of the head, mild hallucinations, a sore throat and sneezing. Pretty standard flu stuff really. It said on the NHS website that unless you were in one of the vulnerable groups of people, you probably wouldn't need or be able to get the anti-viral drugs. So I simply dosed him regularly with paracetomol and made sure he drank plenty of fluids. Of course it's possible that he doesn't have swine flu at all, in the absence of confirmation from a blood test, but the NHS website says that if someone has flu now it is more than likely to be swine flu, and all Will's symptoms fit exactly.

But for anyone who hasn't yet had it and is worried, I wanted to reassure you that as far as flu goes, it actually is quite mild. I had two bouts of flu back in the early 1990s and I was really pretty ill, and for much longer than this. So my experience now with my son confirms the news reports: that unless there are underlying medical problems, it's not that bad!

Hopefully my boy will be back at work by the end of the week (he wanted to go today but really wasn't quite ready) and Mr B and I will avoid it altogether. And with any luck Mr B's appallling swine flu jokes will also cease. The latest source of mirth being Will's "pigsty of a bedroom". Groan!!

Lammas at Avebury with David Rowan and friends

2009-08-03T20:41:00.006+01:00

I'd been really looking forward to spending Lammas at Avebury with David Rowan and his group on a guided walk. The plan was to walk around Avebury, Silbury, West Kennet and the Sanctuary, then move on for lunch, then visit the White Horse, Old Sarum, the landscape around Stonehenge .... what a wonderful way to spend Lammas, I'd thought. Golden fields all around, crops ripening, blue skies, swifts swooping and skylarks warbling - perfect bliss.

The day dawned grey, wet and distinctly murky. And my step-son was staying with us too, and eyed the pouring rain with complete horror. After establishing that it was not an option to stay at home and play on the X-Box, we set off for Avebury armed with waterproofs and umbrellas. Although for some reason I didn't include sensible shoes on my list, and the Boy was wearing wide, full denim jeans. He hadn't brought anything else with him.

I hate to admit it but part of me wanted to stay at home too and get on with the newsletter and the ironing. But I'd been blathering on to everyone on the Stonewylde online community about this special walk and several people had said they were coming too - I couldn't let them down. Mr B was well up for it though (as they say). So on arrival at a very empty and dismal Avebury, we found David and the bedraggled group, complete with a couple of hardy young children and very wet dogs, waiting in the car park.

Disappointingly coffee in the pub wasn't on the agenda, but luckily I'd already promised John and Esther who run The Henge Shop that I'd pop in and sign the fifty copies of Stonewylde they'd had delivered the previous week from our warehouse. They're both very staunch Stonewylders and sell a lot of our books in their shop. They also keep bees, pigs, make beer and live the life - they're lovely people. So I had to slope off from the group into the warm, dry shop, which was reassuringly filled with the aroma of Esther's perfect coffee, and promised to catch the group up somewhere around Avebury.

"We'll be going clockwise," said David helpfully.

I was soon esconsed in the back room at a big table surrounded by great piles of Stonewylde books, with a mug of coffee at my elbow and John chattering away and writing out cheques. My umbrella dripped over the flagstones. Then in came Philippe Ullens, the famous Belgian crop-circle photographer. That description sounds a bit larger than life but he was a charming man and proceeded to show me some stunning arial photos he'd taken the day before of amazing crop circles. The day was looking up.

But sadly it didn't stay that way, because by the time I'd tramped through the long wet grass in my unsuitable shoes, cleverly going anti-clockwise so I'd bump into the group, I was absolutely soaked. The Boy was looking totally fed up and very wet indeed. Mr B was still chirpy, and Darcy and Avebury, our Stonewylde love-birds from the community, were even chirpier. They'd come all the way down from somewhere up north especially for this event, and I thought yet again just how different it all could have been if only the sun were shining.

We visited Silbury Hill (see photo above) and then the long barrow at West Kennet, the very place where the photo of the Earth Goddess on the front of Magus of Stonewylde was taken. We passed under the Wishing Tree, complete with Lammas offerings tied into its branches, and climbed up the hill to the stone chamber. The Boy remained in the car plugged into music, his wet jeans misting up all the windows and in a bit of a strop. Darcy showed us a tiny wild violet which impressed me immensely as it didn't look like a violet at all.

The atmospheric stone chamber inside the Long Barrow was very wet, and some little tea-lights burned in the crevices between the stones. A couple were locked in a silent and crouched embrace in one of the side-chambers but we decided it was probably a healing session rather than some kind of Lammas fertility ritual. Mr B spotted a crop circle in a nearby field, and you may just be able to make it out in the other photo above.

We decided at this point to cut our losses and go straight for the pub lunch. The Boy perked up at this, and whilst everyone else trooped along to the drizzly Sanctuary, the famous wooden henge, we nipped off to The Barge. This is one of my favourite pubs. It's right on the Kennet Canal (the name's a clue) and is renowned for being the haunt of crop-circlers, bikers, and other interesting people. It has a lovely atmosphere inside and I love the decor - quite rough, idiosyncratic, definitely not tarted up and very comfortable. The back room has the most amazing ceiling painted with pagan things. I will post a photo I took ages ago of this ceiling another time when Mr B has finished doing magic things to our server and I can actually find it. No I won't start moaning about photos now I promise!

The Boy tucked into a sausage baguette with extra chips and suddenly blossomed into life again. By the time the rest of the party joined us I was on my second cider and feeling happy with life and Lammas. It was lovely to spend some time with Darcy and Avebury, who are such a great couple and make me feel like a proper match-maker because they got together through Stonewylde. They are so funny the pair of them, and Darcy writes a mean blog on the Stonewylde community site.

We called it a day at this point and made our apologies to David. It was a shame but maybe better luck next time. I felt sad that all those lovely ripening crops are now drooping and very wet - doesn't bode well for the harvest. Cornmother was telling me today that it looks like being really poor, with half-cut crops standing in the fields waiting for a spell of dry weather so they can dry out before mildew sets in.

I hope others spent a more favourable Lammas. We got home, had hot baths and cups of tea and felt cosy, but not very seasonable. Where were the swifts swooping over golden fields? Where was the ochre and burnt sienna of my Stonewylde Lammas fields?

A week on from Port Eliot

2009-08-02T15:49:00.005+01:00

It's now a week since Port Eliot Festival and I think I'd better stop blogging about it after this one! It was such an amazing experience for both of us that I've really found it hard to think of anything else all week. Last night we managed to see the Culture Show repeat which was all about the festival, and it was very strange watching it on TV.

Clearly the programme had been filmed on the Saturday, when the weather was beautifully sunny. By Sunday the heavy rain had arrived and it was cold, wet and pretty shivery. We spent most of Sunday huddled in our gazebo talking to the Stonewylde fans who'd come specially to see us. I wish they'd come on the Saturday and enjoyed the better weather.

The festival we saw last night on TV, with celebrities, authors and musicians being interviewed, was very different to the one we experienced. I always find it fascinating how people can share the same event and yet have a completely different experience. My dear aunt, the Owl Lady to whom Stonewylde is dedicated, once told me of the book she planned to write, which was all about this very thing: the same incident through the eyes of various people who by adding their own filters of experience, emotion and perspective made the incident appear very different. She never did write the book, which is why she was so keen for me to write.

Anyway, watching the Culture Show last night was like seeing a different festival. We didn't have time over the weekend unfortunately to sit in and listen to all the authors and musicians (except for Dovegreyreader, whom I simply couldn't miss as she's been very supportive and her husband Bookhound had spent ages chatting to us in our gazebo). We were so busy with our own thing, talking to the myriads of people who stopped by at our stall, and showing them the corn dolly display and chatting about Stonewylde. I wish now that we'd had more time to spend just wandering about as punters, enjoying the talks and schmoozing with all the interesting people on their stalls. But that, of course, wasn't why Lady St Germans had invited us and wasn't why we'd attended at all.

Having said that, we did find time to socialize with the delightful Simon Costin and his brother Anthony, who were exhibiting their travelling Museum of British Folklore - see the pic above with the lovely little caravan. We've teamed up with Simon before at the Wessex Folk Festival and it was thanks to him that we were invited to Port Eliot. He also interviewed me on Sunday, in the pouring rain, for the Port Eliot Radio Show which will go out on podcast too. You can see us above well wrapped up against the elements with the producer - Hamid I think although I'm terrible with names. Simon is a huge Stonewylde fan and we both really enjoyed doing the radio interview.

So ... that's it now until next year. On arrival home we left the wet tent and dripping gazebo mouldering in the car for a day, then managed to get it all dried off in a brief afternoon of sunshine, and packed away ready for our next sortie. We had guests galore staying all week and so much follow-up from the festival to deal with. And yesterday was Lammas, so I've been desperately busy putting the latest newsletter together, which you can access on the main website if you're not already a subscriber.

I'm longing already to return to Port Eliot next year (I do hope there's another festival then - I heard that maybe it'll only be every two years?), and will have to ensure that we get a little more time to wander around and listen to other people's talks. Maybe by next year I'll be such a famous author that I'll speak for an hour and get someone else to run the Stonewylde gazebo all weekend, whilst I swan around in Where the Wild Roses Grow's jewellery (see my newsletter about this!) and drink champagne. Now there's a thought.

The Round Room - surrounded by Lenkiewicz's art

2009-07-31T00:00:00.006+01:00

It's almost impossible to describe the Round Room at Port Eliot. Great windows look out over the lawns and parkland beyond, letting in the light to illuminate the bizarre throng of characters that form a massive carousel. Robert Lenkiewicz painted a great mural here many years ago. One is surrounded by huge, realistic people, each one clearly telling a story or representing something, but without an explanation simply existing as an almost nightmarish cartoon. Death is clearly one of Lenkiewicz's favourite themes, particularly his own.

It's a large room, carpeted and with a gleaming motorbike against one wall. For the purpose of the festival it was filled with elegant chairs in neat rows, and a massive table. I found it overwhelming and my description here is not doing the amazing room justice, because I really couldn't take it all in. Especially in my state of nervousness at the prospect of giving a talk here.

Normally when I speak to an audience it's clear where to stand or in my case, perch, because if there's a table I like to sit on that to address people. I've spoken in so many different places now. Countless village halls to many WI groups, schools, universities, racecourses, pavilions, town halls ... the list goes on. But never anywhere like the Round Room at Port Eliot. The ranks of chairs all faced the centre of the room and this was where Caz helped me out.

"Where do I stand?" I asked nervously. "I don't want my back to be to anyone."

"Here," she said, gently pulling me into the centre of the room under an absolutely enormous crystal chandelier.

"No, I don't want to stand under that!" I said panicking, thinking of the Only Fools and Horses chandelier episode.

"Say something," she said, so I did. "Now say it again."

This time she'd put me directly underneath the beautiful crystal. Immediately my voice was amplified, softly yet completely. It was incredible.

"Where are the microphones?" I asked, peering up at crystal above me and almost losing my poppy and wheat head-dress as I craned my neck.

Caz laughed at this.

"It's natural. Perfect acoustics and part of the magic of this room. Just stand here and everyone will hear you perfectly."

So I did, propping my huge poster of the Stonewylde Wheel of the Year against a chair next to me and the selection of corn-dollies I'd brought along from the gazebo. The room gradually filled with people coming to hear my talk, and the security people ejected all those who'd just come in to look at the paintings, including a large group of small children which was a relief, lovely though they were. I think they believed I was an extension of the exoticism of the whole room as they gazed at my golden ballgown, strangely in keeping with the surroundings despite it being a sunny Saturday lunchtime.

My talk went fairly well I think, given that I was so over-awed by my surroundings. I hope people enjoyed it as they'd chosen to come to hear me rather than the gracious Jung Chang, a lovely lady whom we'd met the previous evening at the drinks party. She's a best-selling author most famous for her book "Wild Swans", and represented pretty stiff competition!

It was a relief when the co-ordinators of the festival peeped into the room through the massive double doors and made winding down motions at me - events were non-stop all weekend with no leeway for over-running. I gathered up my dollies and wheel and made my exit, feeling relieved and in need of coffee. And sleep.

I've found an interesting article about the late Robert Lenkiewicz, who by all accounts was a completely larger than life character. Our own Cornmother who made me the dollies had sketches of her children done by him many years ago when he was scratching about trying to make a living. This article explains some of his exotic life. I felt him all around me in the Round Room and could only imagine the strangeness of him painting in there with his friend Peregrine, the Earl of St Germans, watching on.

Sleepless in Saltash

2009-07-29T20:35:00.009+01:00

Above are the before and after photos. The gothy one is me on Friday night before bedtime (mattress-time?), near the campsite. Please note the necklace which I shall tell you more about another time. The beautiful one of the empty grounds swathed in morning mist is after the sleepless night.

It wasn't really the toddlers' fault at all. In fact most of them were very well-behaved and slept beautifully all night. But there was one who whinged and moaned throughout the night and of course with only a couple of sheets of thin nylon between us it seemed she was crying right in our ears. She didn't howl or sob - she just made this awful wailing sound that went on and on and on. And she kept it up in the daytime too. But really it wasn't her fault totally - there was a group of yobs who decided to carry on with the party after the music stopped at 3am. They shouted and yelled at the tops of their voices at regular intervals until 5am, waking Moaning Laura (I know her name well because her parents spent most of the night saying ineffectually, "Laura, have you stopped crying?" which was absolutely stupid because clearly she hadn't).

So we'd get shouts and raucous laughter, followed by lots of wailing, followed by parental hissing. All would go quiet after ten minutes or so of this, I'd just about drop off into sleep again, and then it would start again! It stopped not long after 5am because I pulled on my jeans, jumper and trainers and marched across the misty site to the group of tents where the horrible louts were still drinking beer and started taking photos of them. They didn't like this. Then I marched back towards my tent but luckily at that very moment two buggy loads of security men (where had they been all night during the anti-social behaviour?) drove past and I flagged them down and sent them over to the drunken idiots. I don't know what they said but it worked. All went quiet at last!

But by now I was wide awake and still in high dudgeon. The sun was not yet up and everything was bathed in pearly mist; it was so peaceful and beautiful. So I went for a wonderful walk all along the river and into the maze - the one my lovely Mr B had helped to build as a nineteen year-old - and pondered the meaning of life for a while. There were very few people about and I took some fantastic photos. The rain-clouds had vanished and the wind had disappeared, and I was very relieved to find the Stonewylde Gazebo still standing on the slope.

As people started to wake up I went back and made us both tea and bacon rolls. We had a busy day ahead, setting up all the Stonewylde stuff, and I had a talk to give! It took ages to get our things unpacked and displayed properly. Cornmother had made me lots of beautiful corn dollies, and I also had my lovely Green Man, some hares, owls and of course books to set up. Being on such a steep slope was a challenge as everything just slid off the tables. We became quite ingenious in our methods of stopping slippage. We also decorated the gazebo with ivy, sunflowers, poppy and wheat, not to mention a huge blown-up poster we'd had made of the Stonewylde Wheel of the Year. Finally it was all to our satisfaction and I nipped back to the campsite to change into my Corn Mother costume. And would you believe it, Moaning Laura was still at it?

There's something about wearing a full length ballgown and a head-dress that immediately makes one feel both regal and special. Walking back from our tent to the main lawns where Mr B waited in the gazebo, I felt very like a real Lammas Queen. People smile at you when you're dressed up in a costume. It was lovely!

But the time for my talk was approaching, and the lack of sleep and general excitement was beginning to take its toll. My eyes felt scratchy and my head was full of dandelion fluff. There was a brief ten minutes of panic as we thought the famous Round Room had been double booked, but that was sorted out. I don't normally get nervous before giving a talk but this was somewhat special, and I must admit I walked into the beautiful room feeling more than a little apprehensive. But then Caz, the lovely security lady with blonde pigtails and a broad Scottish acccent showed me the secret of the Round Room, and that was it! There was no stopping me then.

Drinks with the Earl of St Germans at Port Eliot

2009-07-28T22:01:00.004+01:00

Sadly I don't have a photo of me and Mr B having drinks with the Earl and Lady St Germans on the Friday night (it would have seemed a little crass to be snapping away at such a posh do!) but this is a photo of me in my Corn Mother of Lammas costume taken in the famous Round Room at Port Eliot. In the background you can see some of the incredible mural which graces this whole room, painted by the late and notorious Robert Lenkiewicz.

We arrived in Saltash very late on the Thursday night and stayed in a hotel. On Friday amidst showers we arrived at Port Eliot, and it was pretty chaotic there with guests, exhibitors, performers and staff all over the place. The organisation of such a huge and complicated event must be a nightmare. There was staff everywhere with walkie-talkies and fluorescent jackets, and everyone was as friendly and helpful as could be, despite the obvious stressfulness of getting everyone organised in the right place. We quickly pitched our tent in the campsite in a nice empty spot overlooking the whole sweep of parkland, and then made our way to where we'd been told to put up our Stonewylde gazebo.

Mr B and I had bought a lovely black gazebo specially for this event. We spent a while putting it up on a very steep slope, which it didn't like very much at all not being designed for this. We had no idea if it was waterproof either, and the weather was showery. There was an air of great expectancy all around, excitement and anticipation as people started to flood in. Finally the gazebo was erected as well as we could manage, with its side panels protesting about the strong winds and its guy ropes straining. We made our way back to the camping bit to get changed for the drinks party in the great house itself.

We then discovered that the site had somewhat filled up in our absence and we were surrounded with tents full of toddlers. Noisy ones. We're at that happy stage in life where our children are pretty grown up but with no grandchildren yet in sight - so we're most certainly not in toddler-friendly mode at the moment. It didn't bode well for the night ahead. But remaining resolutely positive, we changed for the posh evening ahead.

Artistes and performers had been invited to a special drinks party at the house and we'd been really looking forward to this. Mr B had spent a very happy year in St Germans as a young student back in the 70s, with Lord Eliot as he was then as landlord. Mr B had been one of the village lads called in to help build the maze in the grounds, and had happy memories of his time there. So being invited into the house as a guest, thirty years later, was something of a special event for him.

We spent a wonderful two hours sipping champagne, devouring Duchy Original canapes (I know one is meant to nibble but I was ravenous!) and talking to all sorts of interesting people. It seems to me that Port Eliot Festival is unique in its scope. It's a literary event and yet it's so much more than that - there are many musicians and other strange performers, and it has that wonderful alternative flavour too. Very arty and different. I just loved it.

Mr B had a long chat with the Earl, who was utterly charming. He remembered Mr B and the building of the maze, recalling incidents from that time and seeming genuinely pleased to meet up again with someone who loved Port Eliot so much and had such great memories. Later I sat down on the sofa and talked with him myself, admiring Roo his beautiful whippet. I'd heard tales of what a generous and sweet man the Earl is, and this chat with him confirmed it for me.

After the party we had the most delicious food in a huge tent belonging to a company called The Food Groove. Petra the owner, who's also an artist, was excited at meeting us as she'd heard of Stonewylde and wanted to read the books. We arranged to meet up later over the weekend, and then, feeling exhausted and quite merry, made our way back to our tent for a good night's sleep. Ha! Fat chance of that, and I shall tell you why tomorrow.

Return from Port Eliot - back to reality

2009-07-27T13:34:00.006+01:00

We are back from the most wonderful, magical and extraordinary festival at Port Eliot and I wish I were still there. We arrived home last night well past midnight after an amazing weekend away. I want to tell you all about it - the people we met, sights we saw, things we did - but we have friends and family coming to stay tonight and more arriving tomorrow so I need to empty the car (still packed tight with muddy tent/gazebo/wellies/clothes) so I can get out to the shops to buy some food. Then quickly hoover, make up beds, start cooking, put tent and gazebo out to dry ..... Aargghh - I don't want to do this ordinary stuff, nor deal with the 80+ e-mails that are now awaiting my attention! I want to be back at the place of my dreams feeling that peculiar sense of magic that is Port Eliot.

I shall post blogs and photos about the festival and the place throughout the week, whenever I get a minute around my guests, my business stuff, arranging the Harvest Gathering weekend and everything else. In the meantime, here are a couple of photos taken on Saturday at sunrise. To anyone reading this whom I met over the weekend - wasn't it brilliant?

Leaving for Port Eliot Festival!

2009-07-23T20:22:00.005+01:00

In capital letters on my three lists today it said "WRITE BLOG!". Oh dear. And now we're about to leave for Port Eliot. It's 8.30pm and we won't be arriving at Saltash until after midnight I reckon. We're booked into a cheap hotel for the night - all set to arrive in St Germans tomorrow morning, bright and early and refreshed after a good night's sleep! That's the plan anyway.

I've been so very busy this week. It was my youngest son's graduation which was wonderful. A very proud moment for me indeed and we had a lovely day. Mr B treated us all to lunch in Covent Garden after the ceremony, and we cracked the champagne out. Will has a place to do an MA at Kings College, London where he did his Batchelors degree, but has deferred it for a year in order to work and save some money to pay for it. It's a weird feeling when your baby proves once and for all that actually he's grown up now.

All week I've been frantically sewing my costume, getting all the bits and pieces ready for the Stonewylde Gazebo and making my head-dress. I'm dressing as the Corn Mother and our gazebo will be full of corn dollies made by our famous Corn Mother from the forum. Today I received a parcel of beautiful jewellery, lent to me by Where the Wild Roses Grow, also from the forum. She makes the most exquisite pieces and the idea is that I swan around Port Eliot displaying her jewels and people will stop me and ask "Where did you get that gorgeous necklace from?"

And actually I think it may work. The place will be teeming with the rich, famous and influential. As well as lots of nice ordinary folk too. I'm going to be interviewed by Simon Costin for the Port Eliot radio show - he has an hour programme on the Sunday and wants to talk to me about Stonewylde. He's a big fan so that should be good. I've also been asked to appear in a TV interview too which sounds interesting. I'll write all about this next week when it's over.

So now I must leave. Mr B is fidgeting. He's a patient man but even he has limits. I need to do some more work on my talk, which I'm giving on Saturday in the famous Round Room. Maybe I can do that tonight when we arrive in Saltash. Most of all I need to chill out after all the frantic rushing around this week. I can't wait to be in Cornwall! My mother's family were Cornish and I feel a very strong sense of homecoming every time I cross the River Tamar. We're off! The car is packed so tight that at least nothing can break. Wheat, golden dresses, sunflowers and lots and lots of Stonewylde books!

Race for Life - in memory of Debbie

2009-07-19T18:20:00.010+01:00

I've done it! My first Race for Life - 5kms! It was really great and if you've been thinking about doing it yourself but weren't sure, then make it a date next year because it was an amazing experience.

I've been training since January. I'm not a natural runner at all and it didn't come easy to me. But I followed the training schedule where you start by running for 1 minute, walking 2 minutes and repeat eight times - and you do this four times a week. Gradually, week by week, you increase the running time until by the end of it (about 12 weeks I think) you can actually run for 30 minutes, which is about 3 miles. When I say run, maybe jog is closer but I don't know the exact difference, when a jog becomes a run.

There were apparently 2750 women and girls registered to take part in this afternoon's Race for Life at Reading (and a similar amount this morning). The venue was packed with people, both participants and well-wishers. There really were females of all shapes and sizes and ages, dressed predominantly in the Race for Life pink although this is not compulsory. I'd been a bit nervous as I'd entered as a runner and was worried that I wouldn't be able to keep up (well I am in my fifties!) or might need to stop for a breather, but this didn't matter at all. The faster people left first and the walkers left last, and everyone else left in the middle. It was easy to dodge people who were a bit slower, and easy to slow down yourself if you needed to walk for a few metres to catch your breath.

I had a sad spell this morning when I logged onto my Race for Life sponsorship page to check how much money I'd raised. I read my tribute to Debbie, my best friend who died of secondary breast cancer in March of this year. I wrote this tribute just after she died and before her funeral, when I was feeling totally devastated and raw. Now in July, four months on, I'm over that stage of grief thank goodness, and at the point where I just miss her terribly and forget sometimes that she's gone for ever from this life. I think "Oh I must tell Debbie that" and then remember all over again that she's dead. Mourning is a healing process and the grief isn't so debilitating any more, as the memories of her suffering and last weeks fade and the good memories surface again. However, reading my tribute to Debbie this morning brought it all back and I had a good old cry.

But running the Race for Life is such a positive thing and Debbie was so pleased I was going to do it. She was such a fighter and refused to accept the possibility of death almost up until the very end. She had faith in medical science and the chance of a break-through in cancer care. She also believed in the power of positive thinking and practised this all the time. I'm sure this is why she survived longer than predicted. I hope that the money raised by every woman taking part in the Races this year will help to prevent others dying and suffering so much. I know many women who have successfully fought cancer and are still with us today, which is the wonderful thing we must hold on to. This is in no small measure thanks to the work of charities such as Cancer Research UK, who organise the Race for Life.

Thank you so very much to all those who sponsored me. I can't believe I raised over double my target, and it's all thanks to you. I was thinking of you all today whilst running round Prospect Park with the wind blowing and the odd spattering of lovely cool rain falling on my face. And of course I was thinking of dear Debbie, and my mum who also died of breast cancer a few years ago, strangely on Debbie's birthday. They'd always got on so well and often ganged up against me, usually about my untidiness. I carried memories of them both with me today as I ran, as I shall carry them for ever. And I certainly intend to take part in the Race for Life again next year. It was one of the most positive things I've done and it really helped in my grieving for Debbie. And my sponsorship came to £1,105!!! Thank you xxx

Dowsing at Rollright Stones

2009-07-18T23:07:00.004+01:00

Today Mr B and I spent a very enjoyable day at the Rollright Stones near Chipping Norton in Oxfordshire learning about dowsing. We joined Maria Wheatley and Busty at the stone circle with a group of dowsers to find out more about this ancient art. The sacred site is wonderful, a perfect circle with many stones all jostling together like children playing "Ring-a-ring-a-roses". With views over the ripening fields of crops, and shelter from the brisk wind, it was a lovely place to spend a Saturday.

I've written quite a bit about earth energy in my Stonewylde books. But I've never dowsed before and there's something about being in a group that brings out the sceptic in me. I was ready to believe but also ready to dismiss. Maria was very welcoming and went to great lengths to give everyone plenty of attention. Busty lent each of us a pair of stainless steel L shaped dowsing rods, showed us how to hold them and we started dowsing straight away, searching for the energy within the stones themselves.

Mr B's and my faces must have been hilarious as our rods immediately swung round. No question of "is it real?" - it was real! The rods really did seem to have a life of their own. Maria explained about the different types of dowsing, which I won't go into here as I can't remember all the proper names for things. Basically we looked at the patterns between each stone which all interconnect - the ley lines, which are energy lines between things above the ground. We searched too for the concentric circles of energy which are created within all circles and are to do with the inherent properties of the shape itself, and also the geospiral of energy under the ground - the earth energy.

This was all very interesting as I hadn't appreciated the difference between ley lines and earth energy. We also dowsed with pendulums, which to be honest neither Mr B nor I had any success with. As you can probably tell from my expression in the photo above! Busty said this was because I was trying so hard not to let the crystal start to spin. That's true - I thought people were deliberately swinging the pendulum themselves so I was trying to be good and not to cheat!

We also dowsed at the nearby King Stone, with more glorious views over the Oxfordshire countryside, and the Whispering Knights. Here we found the Belinus Line too, which is a very long line of earth energy which snakes from the Isle of Wight to the tip of Scotland apparently. The Whispering Knights are much older than the Rollright Stones, and have all sorts of myths attached such as how they whisper the name of future husbands to maidens at the full moon! It was lovely to see little offerings of flower posies on them, and quite a few coins too.

It's been a while since I took part in a group event like this, and I'd forgotten what an interesting and offbeat bunch of people are attracted to such things. Maria and Busty were lovely and explained their theories, answered questions as best they could and gave us all plenty of their time and attention. I realise I couldn't possibly learn in one day what it's taken them many years to discover, but they gave us a good introduction to dowsing. I'd like to do it again with a Y rod of wood (Maria recommended hazel) which would feel more natural to me.

If anyone is interested in dowsing with Maria, take a look at her website on www.theaveburyexperience.co.uk. She normally works at Avebury but also does work at Stonehenge. She's very knowledgeable and has a great sense of humour too.

Pagan cops and robbers

2009-07-17T23:11:00.004+01:00

Today there was a story in the media about police officers being given days off to celebrate the pagan festivals. Just like other religions really - all respectable and proper. It made me smile. How far have we come from the days - not so long ago - when I used to teach in a Church of England school and was absolutely terrified of losing my job? I wasn't a witch but I was so scared of someone discovering my interest in paganism and "shopping" me. I don't think legally I could have been fired, but my position would have been untenable. I would have had to resign.

I imagine it was until recently the same in the police force. We may have anti-discrimination laws, but we all know that in reality, peer pressure and other subtle forms of bullying can make it impossible to be open and honest. A bit like being gay - it may be legal and above board but in the real world sometimes it's easier all round to say in the closet.

But according to the news report today, pagan police officers can now officially come out of the broom closet. Requests for leave to celebrate the pagan festivals will be viewed sympathetically, and there's even a Pagan Police Association. There's also the Pagan Police Group UK, a website for pagan police officers and their families. Presumably the brave souls who have declared their beliefs are subject to a lot of ribbing and teasing from their colleagues, but it's a start.

And in a similar vein I came across an interesting person recently on Twitter, who works as a Pagan Prison Chaplain. I didn't know such people existed but she very kindly sent me full details. Apparently every faith has a right to be represented in prison chaplaincy because prisoners come from all faiths. So any inmate who either professes themselves to be a practising pagan, or expresses a serious interest in learning more about it, is entitled to access to a chaplain from the Pagan Federation Prison Ministry. People who undertake this work are volunteers and it seems on reading all the information sent to me that it must be a very demanding role indeed.

I was thinking today of how difficult it must be to feel that connection with the earth and the seasons when you're incarcerated in a high security prison. It made me think of an idea I read about a while ago, something on the lines of this: imagine if the skies were covered every single night and nobody ever got a glimpse of the stars. And then imagine if, for one night only, the skies would be clear and the whole universe of sparkling stars could be seen. Wouldn't everyone on the planet spend that one precious night outside just gazing and gazing in awe and wonder? Yet in reality most nights we spend tucked up inside watching our screens, totally oblivious to the beauty above us. We just take it for granted.

This must be what it's like for a prisoner. The simple joys of walking out in the woods or hills or along a beach would be seen as something so very special, but something we at liberty may take for granted. It made me think that I must keep my eyes open and appreciate what's around me all the time. I'm not planning on any spells inside of course, but we can become prisoners in our homes all too easily.

Tomorrow I'm off to a famous stone circle to do some dowsing with a lady who's an expert in this field. I'm looking forward to this immensely, and shall spare a thought for all those who cannot for whatever reason get out of doors to enjoy the fresh air and wonders of nature. Even torrential rain must seem lovely when you're inside with no access to the outside.

If anyone's interested in finding out more about the Pagan Federation Prison Ministry, do contact the Pagan Federation for further details. And the link to the story about pagan police officers is http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/8154812.stm.