Finding Rachel Davenport

Some of you may remember Mike Harling as my co-blogger on our Pond Parleys blog. Well, Mike has just released his debut novel, which I found entertaining and gripping enough to chew through a few fingernails!

Here he is to tell you about it - 

Writing in a Foreign Language

After ten years of living in Britain, I was pretty sure I had the language down pat. So sure, in fact, that I decided to write a novel with British characters, living in Britain, doing British type things. The book is out now (and, yes, this post is simply a cleverly disguised commercial message) and I am dreading the virtual spanking I am sure to receive for getting the language all wrong.

The book is titled Finding Rachel Davenport and it is about a young woman who works in a travel agency by day, but is a self-styled crime-fighter by night. This is not a fantasy novel, however; the antics Rachel gets up to and the trouble she soon finds herself in are grounded in the real world. Although her aim is to operate anonymously, her first mission goes horribly awry and she finds herself pursued by the media, the police and an assortment of criminals who want her silenced. And so she spends the rest of the book dodging bad guys and nosey neighbours while trying to hold onto her job and juggling two would be suitors. But all of that is beside the point...wait a minute, no it’s not! Go and buy the book. Right NOW!

Anyway, it was first offered to American markets who sent it back confused about acronyms such as PC, SOCO and even OBE. So I offered it to the Brits, and a British publisher acquired it. And then the edits began.

Did you know they don’t call the “produce aisle” a produce aisle here? Neither did I, but you’d think I would have picked that up by now. As the editing process wore on, I discover that even though I knew a lot of British words, the real trick was knowing which of my words and phrases were American.

Handbag instead of purse is one I know about, but having cars booted instead of clamped caused the editor a bit of confusion. Ziploc bag, roundhouse, lay of the land, storefront and license plate all found their way into the manuscript, and all had to be changed to the equivalent British term. (Go ahead, see if you can get them all, I’ll wait.) One we didn’t change was “shucked,” because there is no British equivalent for it.

Perhaps this experience will better prepare me for another novel set in Britain, or, if the language pundits pounce on every other paragraph, maybe I’ll move it to America, instead, as long as I can remember to not have one of the characters “take the piss” out of someone.

Now for the commercial message:

Finding Rachel Davenport, published by Opis, an imprint of Propsera Publishing, is out now and available at:

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Rachel-Davenport-ebook/dp/B009T5HDK2/ref=la_B002BOHIIU_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1350914374&sr=1-4

and Amazon.co.uk

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Rachel-Davenport-ebook/dp/B009T5HDK2/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4

Michael Harling moved to Britain unexpectedly (and through no fault of his own) in 2002. He is the author of three humorous books about expat life: Postcards From Across the Pond, More Postcards From Across the Pond and Postcards From Ireland. Finding Rachel Davenport is his first novel.

Visit his blog at: http://pcfatp.com

Babs the Fab

Had the most wonderful experience on Friday night - went to see Barbra Streisand at the United Center in Chicago. It's a huge sports arena that seats about 20,000 and our seats were up on the side but very close to the stage. No need to watch the big screens.

It was wonderful.

I've always been a fan of the voice, if not the woman. (By that I mean that she comes across as a nice enough person but you don't really know a celeb do you?) Actually, she came across as a very nice person - funny, honest, and self-deprecating; her show has a lot of chat with the audience, making that huge stadium feel like an intimate night club.

The voice sounds lightly lower that yesteryear, but is still as remarkable, restrained and just not shouty, as it ever was.

She is currently touring with Il Volo, a trio of lovely young Italian boys/men. Honestly, they're barely old enough to have proper male voices let alone magnificent ones. She also played quite a few numbers with the brilliant trumpeter Chris Botti and the beautiful violinist Caroline Campbell was also featured.

The highlight for many of us however, was Jason, her son. Babs showed us a photo montage he had put together for her 70th birthday, and then pointed out the beautiful singing in the sound track - Jason. Then she brought him out and they sang some very touching songs together. Like buddah!

Anyway, it was a nice surprise for my mother, even though the Ball & Chain had done his level best to execute an early reveal in the previous few days. (But that's a whole nuther blog post.)

Inside The Actor's Ego

This is one of those posts where you start off writing about one thing, and it morphs into something completely different.

I was going to comment on an article I read about Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise. Here it is - I was going to express disbelief that, to this day, she doesn't really know what the movie "Eyes Wide Shut" was about. She says - 'People have asked me if Stanley ever told us what Eyes Wide Shut was about — and the answer is no. He didn't believe in interpretation." Hmmm. 

I was going to ask how many of us take on a project or a piece of work without knowing what it's all about, but perhaps if someone were to offer me ten million at the same time, I might just dive in too.

And then I got distracted. I made the mistake of looking up other stupid quotes by actors and artistes. Oh my, the egos!

On losing the lead role in The Thin Red Line Adrian Brody apparently said - "It kind of felt like a soldier coming home after giving his soul and then not being appreciated." Clearly Adrian Brody has never even read about the Vietnam veterans. 

And then we have Miley Cyrus talking about herself and her boyfriend (whose name escapes me, mainly because I don't care) - "I think we're deeper than normal people." Oh, is that what you call it? I might just have to explain to people that my dog is "deep" instead of thick as a plank then. 

And this one's not just outrageously immodest, but clearly from someone who's over thinking things. Beyonce- "Sometimes it's overwhelming. Why did God give me my talent, my gift, my family? But I know you're not supposed to question God."  It made me think back to all the talented accountants, lawyers, sales assistants, plumbers and dentists I've known. I swear I never heard one of them express the same wonder at their gifts. What is it about artistes?

Mind you, I blame old Gywneth P. who's quoted as saying "Beyonce is the most talented human being on the planet." Really? I mean I quite liked the Single Ladies routine (the first fifty times) but I doubt there's a Nobel prize coming any time soon.

I really hope this one has been taken out of context because I love Ben Affleck, but lordy - "I just feel like sometimes I'm a force to be dealt with. My talents are sometimes over-used and sometimes underused. It's not easy being me." I assume this is before he got together with the lovely Jennifer Garner, because she would've clipped him round the ear for that one. 

At least Jerry Hall had the decency to say "If I weren't so beautiful, maybe I'd have more character."

Unlike Donald sodding Trump who reckons - "All of the women on "The Apprentice" flirted with me - consciously or unconsciously. That's to be expected." ('Scuse me while I bring up my breakfast.) Don't you love the Freudian slip there - most women would have to be unconscious to flirt with you Donald, but I think you meant "subconsciously". 

But one of the best (only because it doesn't bear thinking about) is from dear Courtney Love who allegedly said "I do wish I ruled the world - I think it's be a better place." Oh I bet you do. A world where no one has to take care of their own children, and where it's perfectly OK to turn up pissed or high everywhere you go. Rock on Courtney.

All I can say is thank the stars none of them are running the country! 

Like Being Shout Out of Canon

I don't know why I don't weigh about the same as my dog, I really don't. The nervous energy I expend before many people are even out of bed each day astounds me sometimes. I laugh, but it's like being shot out of a canon. Metaphorically speaking, obviously.

This morning by 9am, I had -

- fed the dog
- assisted the 9 year old in not pouring the entire box of cereal into his bowl
- made a cup of tea
- brewed coffee for the Man-Child who can't face food till about 10am
- made two packed lunches
- emptied the recycling
- checked my e-mail for important school stuff. (Nothing, thank goodness)
- answered 5 serious writing related e-mails
- completed paperwork so that I can get paid by the BBC
- sent a check back to someone (long story)
- answered an e-mail about Rowan yarn (long-ish story)
- greeted the plumbing guys who showed up to "rod" the tree roots under my house
- vacuumed the basement family room
- established that the electricity in the house went off because the vacuum plus "rodding" equipment over-loaded the circuit
- stopped vacuuming
- talked through the problems being caused by the City's sodding tree which sits right outside my front door
- resumed vacuum cleaning
- put a lad of darks in
- barely stopped the bath tub over-flowing (rodding guys had asked me to run the water to help clear out the pipes)

I would say that I'm going to lie down, but the dog needs a walk. Phew!

Parent's Weekend - debrief

So I'm back. Exhausted. Not so much from the activity of Parents' Weekend, but from the fact that I can NEVER sleep in hotels. No matter how lovely and comfy the room is.

First night we were in bed fairly early as the Queenager had a paper to write, my mother was jet-lagged and I will grab any opportunity to lie in bed not doing laundry. Unfortunately, the family in the next room had the same idea, so all 42 of them lay in a bed right next to my head and talked till about midnight. I couldn't even bang on the wall in righteous annoyance as they weren't being particularly raucous. The walls were just paper thin. Add to that the fact that the room seemed to have heat but no air-conditioning, and you have a very uncomfortable room. I woke up medium rare.

Cue lots of cover up for the under eye bags in the morning.

There's a lot of construction going on around my daughter's campus at the moment. Apart from the fact that they are allowed to start banging at 7am during the week (What the what?), when they were supposed to be quiet at the weekend, most of the enormous pieces of machinery were clanging in the wind, - all night. At first I thought it was thunder, but then I realized it wasn't actually thundering. I even got up and checked the weather thing on my phone. Not a cloud in the vicinity. And of course once you know it's a noise that's not part of nature, and not supposed to be happening, you just stay awake reminding yourself of this wrong. Or is that just me?

Anyway,

..we had a lovely time with the Queenager and we're now getting lots of sleep in Chicago.

Parents' Weekend. It's an American thing.

So this weekend is Parents' Weekend at the Queenager's university. That's right. It's an American thing and it's huge. Most colleges and universities have them, although sometimes they're called "Family Weekends. They will lay on a variety of events to entertain us, including big bands playing at night and activities for younger siblings too. And of course, we get to see what all that money is doing.

If you look on many US college web sites, there's a separate page for Parents of students. Most colleges are big into communicating with the parents. As soon as your kid accepts the offer, the e-mail start rolling in. Although I have no doubt the colleges want you to know what you're paying for, in most cases what they really want is a financial donation. Fair enough - someone's got to pay the bills.

Here's an example of one parent page -

"We understand the vital role parents play in the college experience, and we want to partner with you to ensure your student's success at ----. In addition to communicating your needs and concerns to University administration, we are here to educate you about student development and appropriate ways to help your college student become an independent and involved citizen."

And another -

"Welcome to the- State University Family and the Office of Parent Services. College is a very stressful time in the life of a student, but through the combined effort of family and university, this endeavor can be very successful."

Yeah, you don't just put them on a plane or train any more.

Last year we all went, but flights plus three nights in a hotel can get a little expensive, plus, the novelty probably wears off for 17 and 9 year old boys. So this year it's just me, the Queenager ......and grandma. Oh yes, she's flying over from England and we're going to do a long weekend of stalking the student!

Will report back!

Vanity, They name is....

On Wednesday I was supposed to take part in a live stream web chat thingy on Huffington Post. I left a comment on one of the discussions about girls in developing countries being married off at 12 and being denied education. I know a bit about the education side because of the school I support in Ghana, and I was flattered that they asked me to be on their live show. I spent more than a few hours looking up very interesting and important stuff on girls, the problems and the answers. Just to make sure I didn't look like a complete amateur.

And of course, since it was a live web chat, I had a mild panic attack about the fact that I look like a three week old cadaver on Skype or anything else where I have to sit in bad lighting and look down into my laptop. I spent more than a little time placing said laptop in front of various lamps and windows. The best spot was in the closet in my bedroom (very soft lighting) but since the wi-fi kept cutting out up there, I had to come back down and deal with the shadows and the cruel lines on my face.

Eventually I settled for a spot right in front of a big window with full sunlight coming in. Not wanting to look down at the laptop (am I the only one whose face goes weird at that angle?), I placed it on a pile of Xbox cases and hoped that no one walked past the house with a barking dog. Reminded me of the first radio interview I ever did - locked in the closet in my daughter's room!

Anyway, they didn't call back, which is not uncommon. I understand the world of journalism moves at a crazy pace, and they probably found someone with a few more credentials on the subject. Not a problem. It'd be nice if they had let me know at some point. I did end up planning my whole day around the thing. Sigh.

However, I spent some time playing around with Photo booth on my Mac. For ladies "of a certain age" some of the effects you can use are just perfect. I might have to walk around in a pencil haze from now on.

Washing Dishes - British and American differences

Here's my second piece on BBC America's Mind the Gap site.

Quite a good conversation going on......

Child Gone Off to University?

Quite a few of my friends are experiencing the first born going off to university at the moment. (For American readers,  - it's very recent as English universities don't start till the beginning of October.)

You may remember my experience last year? Happy to say that the beginning of the second year wasn't quite so traumatic. She phones a lot, I've been a few times and the Ball & Chain is in Washington DC so often that she's probably on the verge of saying "Dad, we really have to get out of this Wednesday-night-dinner-routine." (Although I'm sure she won't.)

I read a hilarious piece in the Guardian the other day - two points of view of the first term of university. Click here and have a read. There's a lot of parent comments saying "Back in the day..". Well yes, university is very different now. If I wanted to phone home, I had to collect mucho coinage, stand in a freezing cement stairwell and wait till the lad downstairs got off the phone. (I actually did tend to phone home once a week, btw, and was a copious letter writer.) These days with smart phones, they can text whenever they want, send photos of the piles of work they have (my heart bleeds) and generally pester you or not, to their hearts' delight.

If you're a parent of a US college student however, sometimes you have no option but to hover and generally be a helicopter parent. We get weekly e-mails from the Parents Office at our college, telling us everything from campus safety services (good to know) to how the menu has changed in the student cafeteria, (not so much). Every so often we get an e-mail suggesting that we remind our children of the content. I once e-mailed back and reminded them that since she was on the college e-mail system, it might be easier and quicker if they just e-mailed her directly. She's nearly 20 fer' cryin' out loud. And yes - there truly are whole departments or offices devoted to parental communication - or, as it should be called "Fund-raising".

In a few weeks, I'm going to Parents' Weekend, which is quite the tradition in the USA. Having only just bid them farewell, colleges across the country host a big-shebang Parents (or Family) weekend, where you have to fly or drive miles and miles so as not to make your child look like an unloved orphan. Last year the whole family went ($$$$) and had a lovely time; this year it's just me and the grandma who's flying over from the UK for a weekend of stalking merriment with the Q. (I hasten to add, she's not flying to the US just for one weekend!)

British university parents would probably revolt; I've been here so long it doesn't even seem that weird to me now.

The Things Girls Do

So, a few posts ago, I wrote about the things boys do. Given as I also have a daughter (who reads this blog), I thought it only fair to write about the things girls do. I think boys get a bad wrap (or is that rap?), or at least girls are credited with the "sugar and spice" thing when it's not always warranted.

She moved into her own little bed when her brother came along and needed the cot/crib. She was two years, nine months at the time, and still napping in the afternoon. "Bliss" I thought, "They can nap at the same time and I'll get the laundry done", but the petite Queenager had other thoughts and kept getting out of the little bed. (Hint to mothers, - when they start doing this, it's time to phase out the afternoon nap, no matter how much it kills you.) I continued to put her to bed anyway, hoping against hope that she might sleep.

Finding her stripped off and covered in white zinc nappy/diaper cream was a bit of a hint that I should really give up on the nap idea. A few days later my fate was sealed when I went into the bedroom to find a veritable snow scene and the Queenager happily sitting in the middle of it. Took me a few minutes to figure out that she'd undone the two "safety" zippers of a bean bag and emptied the entire contents, mostly into her underwear drawer. I swear I was picking tiny polystyrene balls from her knickers for years.

About a month later, we were walking to the park at the end of our street. I glanced down and noticed something sparkly on her thumb. "What's that you have?" I asked. "Oh, something I found", she replied, not meeting my gaze. Only my bloody brand new Tiffany eternity/anniversary ring that I had taken off and left by the bathroom sink!

When she was about twelve, I was in her room and could smell the most awful pong. Having once found a dead mouse in a laundry basket (don't ask) I knew the smell could literally be something rotting so I set about to find it. Sniffed the rug and decided it had been wee'd and puked on too many times, so out it went. Smell still there. Went through every single pocket of every single piece of clothing in her closet. Nothing. Smell still there. Every drawer was turned out, the bed searched, - nothing. Smell still there.

Now I was on a mission. Nothing gets passed this nose. I finally followed the smell back into her closet and decided to stay in there till I found it, despite the fact that the aroma was making my eyes water.

And yes, I found it. That would be the four month old ham and cheese sandwich tucked away in a lunch bag on the top shelf. Why it was there I have no idea. She probably thought she'd get into trouble for not eating her lunch so decided to hide it. As you do.

I made her open the lunch bag and get rid of the offending item though, so I don't think she'll be doing that again!

Blogging - What's Changed in Five Years?

So... I was tagged by Iota to put down my thoughts about what has changed in the blogging world. One thing - no one tags anyone any more, which is no bad thing IMO. I can do this post, but if I had a dollar for every time I've been tagged to write about something I either had no interest in or experience of, well....

Potty also did one, and I was tempted to just put the link in and be done with it, but that would be cheating. So-

Technically I haven't quite been blogging for five years. That day will come on Jan 9th, 2013, five years to the day after I posted my first blog post and hoped for the best.

I think the biggest change is that the blogging circle or sphere is now huge, and I confess I can't keep up. Back in the day, I seemed to be blogging entirely with UK based bloggers, and at least half of them are no longer blogging.

Anyone remember Drunk Mummy? This was my friend who got me into blogging and is still the funniest writer out there. Except she gave up after about six months for pastures new and more illustrious. I seriously urge you to pop over and rifle through the posts though.

And Frog in the Field who is now up to her ears in her party business and appears not to have blogged in well over a year?

And her from Mutterings and Meanderings, who lives in the north east and has since become a good friend. We meet for a yearly lunch when I'm on that side of the Pond. She hasn't put pen to blog post since 2009.

One of the funniest bloggers was 3 kids, No Job. She actually did have a job and blogged about it from time to time, but has ceased because her cloak of anonymity was slipping.

Does anyone remember Millennium Housewife and her "Things I have said to my husband/parents/kids"? OMG - no one could capture a scene and a full conversation in bullet points the way this blogger did.

 I'm copying out her "Ten Things I have Said to my Parents Today" to give you a flavour and beg you to go and read more. (I hope she doesn't mind - I'm giving her full credit and not attributing anything to myself.)

Ten Things I have said to my Parents today. (Millennium Housewife)

• Ooh thankyou
• Happy early Christmas to you too
• I like the wrapping
• Shall I guess?
• Ok
• Err
• Well it doesn't rattle
• It's squareish
• It's quite light
• I'm guessing a book
• Shall I open it?
• Excellent
• I wonder what it is
• Yes I was right, a book
• Sex As You Age?
• Sex As You Age?
• What do you mean I'm quite welcome?
• It may well have got you through some tough times
• But I'm in my thirties
• My Thirties
• I'm not aging
• Or in need of an elderly person's sex manual
• Oh crikey
• There's notes in the margin
• Especially for me?
• Was this your book?
• Dad please don't say Ours like that
• While putting your arm round mum
• Because I'm holding your sex manual
• And sitting next to you
• And trying desperately to think of something pleasant
• And Christmassy
• And not look at the chapter entitled Arthritis Of The Knee And You
• Dad
• Stop winking at mum
• Put your hands where I can see them
• Both of you
• I'm taking away the sherry
• No you can't have it back at bedtime
• Because we're in the room next to you
• And I can see you've put your knee bandage on
• Yes of course safety comes first
• But so does your daughter's mental health
• I'm sure you do have a book on that too
• But really
• No more books OK
• Because my nerves can't take it
• No thanks
• I don't want my other present
• Because it looks suspiciosly like a pot of chocolate
• And a box of knee bandages

So, I know I've left you a long list, but these are the golden oldies. Not to be missed.