Another short snippet of my story!

I have finished writing a book. It is quite a long book at about 80 pages and over 42,500 words long. It is for kids, tweens I suppose, or precocious readers of all sexes. I need a new title though. Got any ideas? Right now it is The Last Unicorn of Lindyline, but I think boys might run from that title. It is as much a boys book as a girls book. Anyway, here is an excerpt. This is copyrighted (C) 2015, so do not copy it in any way or form, because that would be illegal! Enjoy and send me comments:
simon at diamondscree dot com. You know it!

Chapter 21
A surprise helper

“What’s that noise?” said Mickelmas.

“It sounds like a chicken,” said Tommy Stanhope.

“Chickens in the forest?” said Mickelmas. “Preposterous!” (Some might say, ‘plain silly!’) They were riding slowly as the forest was growing dark, and the horses stepped with care.

There was a thud, and before them in the poor light they could make out a chicken.

“Chickens in the forest!” said Mickelmas again. “And flying at dusk.”

The chicken ruffled its feathers, dusting itself in a small patch of snow and then flapped its wings. The two men watched it fly up and up through the branches of the trees after it had looked around.

“I’ve never seen a chicken fly that high before,” said Tommy. “At least, not that I can remember.”

“This might sound very odd,” said Mickelmas as he studied (some might say, ‘looked hard at’) the young man. “But did you recognize that bird?”

“Well.  Yes and no,” said Tommy.

“Yes, that’s what I thought. You recognized it, but you didn’t at the same time?”

“Yes, that describes it. Don’t know why I’d recognize it though. We don’t have hens like that at home or at the barracks,” said Stanhope.

They both looked up.  They could hear the chicken but it sounded like it was getting further and further away. The sound blended with another. It seemed at first it was thunder, but it wasn’t.

“A horse?” said Tommy.

“Agreed,” said Mickelmas.  He turned his mount to face the direction the sound was coming from and reached behind himself. Mickelmas felt for his wooden staff and pulled it from the saddle roll. He muttered something under his breath and the head of his blackthorn stick, sputtered and shone brightly in the darkness in front of him, as if it were a focused lantern. The cloaked and hooded rider came upon them and was startled by the bright light.  They raised an arm to protect their eyes and pulled up their mount. Stanhope rode to the rider with his sword drawn.

When the rider lowered their arm they immediately drew their own sword. The rider’s reaction was so fast that Stanhope, already armed with his sword, found the rider’s blade at his throat.

Mickelmas smiled. “Your Highness, Princess Riley,” said the old man as his bowed on his horse and lowering his staff the light from it dimmed. “I see your parents presented you your sword.”

Princess Riley blinked and as her eyes adjusted, she said: “Mickelmas.  I was hoping to catch up with you.  I’m going to help you rescue my sister.” Riley’s breath was short.

“You’re assuming, Your Highness,” said Mickelmas, “she needs rescuing.”

Map of Lindyline by Simon Brooks (I love maps!)

Stanhope was flustered. He had just put the sharp edge of a sword up in a threatening manner to the Princess. “Your Highness I am so sorry,” he said sheathing (some say, ‘putting away’) his sword. “I thought you were the enemy.”

“If I were the enemy,” said Princess Riley, “We would not be talking at this point.”

“Quite right, Your Highness,” said Mickelmas.

“And please, stop calling me Your Highness,” said the Princess.

“Good idea,” said Mickelmas. “We don’t know if there are spies out here in the woods, and we don’t want word getting to the enemy you are out relatively unprotected, with just Private Stanhope and myself.”

“I have you, Mickelmas, and Stanhope here. And besides, I can look after myself,” said Princess Riley.

“I see,” said Mickelmas. “Do your mother and father know you are here?”

“I left a message with Glenda, mummy’s top advisor, my maid Leia, and I wrote a note which I left in my parents’ chambers.”

“I see,” said Mickelmas. “Well, let’s move.”

Tommy Stanhope was opening and closing his mouth. The young man looked first at the Princess and then back at Mickelmas. “But, but er, shouldn’t we take Her High. I mean the Prince. Er, what should I call you?” he stuttered.

“Riley. Plain and simple.”

Stanhope looked at Mickelmas and back at the Princess and at Mickelmas again. “Shouldn’t we er, take Riley,” Stanhope bowed to the Princess. “Back to the Castle, to The City?”

“Why bother?” said Mickelmas. “We’ll be wasting our time. Riley will come back to find us as soon as she can. Am I right, Miss Riley?”

“Yes, you are Mickelmas,” she said.

“Come along Tommy. We need to find a place to camp soon. It’s getting too dark to travel.”

Two very different books and a poem

Last night I finished reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgeson Burnett (1905). It was a first time read, although I remember seeing either a British tv mini series, or a movie of the book and quite despising the stuck up little girl at the time. Reading the book now, in my mature years, shall we say, I see her character very differently. In my youth I also disliked Little Lord Fauntleroy for the same reasons, although I doubt I will read that any time soon! I think this time round the thing I liked about Sara, the main character, was her absolute resilience. Even when the worst was happening to her, she tried to be stoic. Sara stood up against her oppressors both adults and peers. She did not care that people thought her odd. She believed that this 'oddity' made her different, and this gave her strength. Two thirds of the way through the book Sara thinks she can not go on from the hunger she feels and the cold, but when she found a fourpence in the mud and bought some buns, she still gave all but one to a girl she knew to be worse off than herself. Sara was able to do this by using her imagination. She imagined she was a princess and kept asking herself, 'what would a princess do in this situation?'

From "Bulletin", Issue 17 (1902) by United States. Bureau of Biological Survey.

Sara helped other students who were drawn to her. She became a mother figure to a young girl and a close friend to another student at the seminary who others saw as stupid. And the maid, Becky was in awe of Sara, and became her fellow prisoner in the attic which they renamed the 'Bastille'. But when the underplayed and undervalued Ram Daas comes up with a plan, he transforms the garret room into a palace. At this point the tale turns and the loss which she suffered on the death of her father turned around and she became, in all but name, a princess. And then she transformed, from thinking of her own worries into being able to help others.

This was a good read for me, but I discovered a book I have fallen in love with. It is rare for me to read a book and want to re-read it immediately. Beowulf was once of these books, and To Kill A Mockingbird (1960) is my most recent. I have had this book since I first left Worcester, England in the 1980's. I never read it. The copy came with me to the States in the 1990's. But I never read it.

I came across an article about the character of Atticus Finch and liked what I read about him, so pulled the book off the shelf and dove in. I was caught by the end of the first page. What a book, what a story, what writing. I loved the characters in this book too. So rich, so powerfully described with so little work. Characters built on gestures, words, actions and manners. Manners play a big part in the story. I am not talking about folks saying 'please' and thank you', but the way we carry ourselves and behave generally. 'Manners' in this book are so much larger than our normal, everyday idea of manners. They carry over into everything.

Scout is another powerful young woman, but so very different from Sara in A Little Princess. Where Sara is prim and proper, Scout is all about fighting for what is right in any manner possible. She punches a cousin to defend her father's name. She will fight with anyone for what is right, to defend honour. Her father Atticus does not like fighting. He does not brag. He is quiet about himself and his skills and he gently imbue his knowledge and beliefs in his children. He knows what is right and will fight against what he believes is wrong even when he knows he could very well lose. Lee is able to show the children coming of age in their own ways, Scout learns to control her temper and with the help of Atticus' words she and her brother learn to imagine what it is like to be another person, to see things from another point of view. The difference between Scout and Sara are huge and yet there are similarities. Both know what is right and wrong. Where Sara uses her imagination, Scout uses her physical strength and the common sense which Atticus has encouraged in her. Scout shows her strength of character and courage when her father is being threatened by a mob. By addressing one of the members of the mob Scout is able to disperse the crowd. The morals and way of life of the early 1900's in England are so different from 1930's Southern America. I loved the voice with which Harper Lee wrote. Even though the topic, the situations, and dilemmas were serious and tough in Mockingbird, she wrote in such a way that made the horrors almost bearable.

And here is a poem I wrote last night.

A Nine Year Old Girl

 

From when her eyes open
They are bright with life
She finds wonder and joy
In every moment possible
Except when it’s the
Worst Day Ever!
Dancing in circles
Until gleefully giddy
And, giggling, falls down
Only to jump up singing
Hair flinging
To do it all again.
Making herself laugh
She falls back with tears
Rolling down her cheeks
Air filling her belly
Ready to laugh out loud,
Until it’s too hard to stand.
Sitting on the heater duct
Hot air blowing up her back,
Book in hand reading
Until the hot air stops.
Then up onto the couch
To hold the heat.
Pure unadulterated
Joy and happiness.
Unless it is the Worst Day Ever.
Then to bed and those eyes of joy
Slowly close.
Sweet dreams sweet heart.

Simon Brooks, 18^th February, 2015
Copyright 2015 (C)

Happy New Year - here's to a year of being present

It seems I have not been terribly good about updating my blog! Nor my website. This is not an oversight, but I have been busy. Life is very full, and this is good. And sometimes I am not 100% present because of that. When I take photographs I am present, 100%. (See some shots I took over the holidays here: http://simonbrooksstoryteller.wordpress.com/2015/01/07/swansea-marina-and-locale/)

One of the things I stress when telling tales, is that one of the best ways to be 100% present with your own kids is to tell them stories. They do not have to be folk tales, fairy stories, myths or legends, they can be stories about yourself, about Mum, Gran, Grandpa, Auntie Joan, your best friend, Gary Veale, who was really good at getting you into trouble! But what I am really saying is 'Turn off your blooming device and be present with your children.'

When I was a full time stay-at-home dad, which to some degree I still am, I found that when the kids were agitated and I became agitated, was when I was not present with them. I would be trying to work and would get frustrated, but if I stopped and spent time with them, gave them all my attention, forgot about what was needed to be done in the other room, things would get better. I could ask to go and do some work. It was like time sharing! We would do things together for a while and I am 100% there, then I have to go and work and be 100% there in my office!

Sitting down and telling tales is a great way to be present. You cannot help but be present. It is one-on-one time. Don't answer the phone, don't look to see who sent you a text, BE with the kids. If you think you can't tell tales (but you can!), then draw with them, play Lego's with them, write stories together, build something out of cardboard boxes, cook together. Walks can present opportunities for story, especially woods, streams, rocky places where things can hide and live extraordinary lives. There are spirits in the rocks, fairies in the streams, goblins in the trees throwing nuts at you!

Dad and me on the Gower

One thing I like to do is draw. Sometimes we still fold a piece of paper and each of us draws part of a body from top to bottom. When you unfold the paper you have a creature of some sort, or a weird looking person! Sometimes it is fun to make up a story about the creation you have just made. Make two and then both can have adventures. Make a third who the first two might meet. What do they do, where do they go? Suddenly stories appear from play. Then maybe at bedtime, you can expand on the story a little and leave a cliff-hanger for the next day or evening. Make up stories about strange (to the kids) words: make up what they don't mean with an outlandish tale!

It's not just kids though, it is your partner too. Be present. Give time, 100% focus to each other. The same with other family members near and distant. Maybe something wonderful will come out of it.

Happy New Year!

Stories the ads tell us

I do not watch too much American t.v. because I dislike the number of adverts which continuously break up the flow of a story. This Thanksgiving I sat watching cable t.v. with my kids and was horrified at what I saw, on kid stations.

Time-Warner Cable showed a father with two kids taking over what could have been a living room or den/family room. The furniture has been taken apart, blankets and rugs added to make some fabulous forts. In walks mother and gives a look of disapproval, that says she gives up, and takes her tablet to another room to be on her own. Is playing with the family so bad? Is it better to vanish with your devise? Admittedly there are times we need to spend on our own, but is the place of companies to suggest we go to our devices?

Ensure Active had an equally disturbing, if that's not too strong a word, commercial. The scene is similar to a type of gym with lots of fruit and veggies standing around, as if they were people, along with plastic containers of Ensure Active, also humanized, Veggie Tales style. One of the plastic containers of Ensure seems to be the instructor for this 'gym' and tells a pear, in not so many words, that it is not fit, that you can get better nutrition from a mass produced product in plastic, rather than from fresh vegetables and fruit. Unbelievable that in country where obesity is a problem that a company would steer folks away from fresh produce.

On the flip side Kellogg's Frosted Flakes have a much better idea. Tony the Tiger is with the family playing American football with them. When a break happens in the play and they move to the kitchen for a Frosted Flake snack, moves are discussed, using the frosted flakes on the table to plan the 'play'. A wonderful story of family playing together, tied in with a product. Tony is greeeeat!

Another story I finished over Thanksgiving was a book from a genre I have not tried before - alternative history. When someone let me borrow Harry Turtledove's "Ruled Britannia" I had a blast. Set in Shakespeare's London, the story tells this alternative history of the Spanish invading and ruling, with Elizabeth I in the Tower,on Philip of Spain's orders. It is not a bad book, and is one I enjoyed. Lots of Shakespeare's work entwined into the writing and lots of facts, given a nice twist, or explanation!

What stories did you enjoy over Thanksgiving? What stories did your family tell? What books did you start or finish? What devises did you lay down to cool off over the break?

I hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving, with those you love and care for.

Peace,
Simon

The Richness and Beauty of the Selchidh, and Hiking Boots

From Arthur Rackham's Undine

I have just finished reading a wonderful book about the seal people of Ireland and Scotland. It is a journal of a journey, mainly through Ireland, and the stories collected of the Selkie, the Kane, Silkies, Selchies, Selchidh; the shape shifters. The stories are of another time but not that long ago. The book was printed in 1954, and some stories were told 'in living memory', the rest as ancient as the creatures themselves.  There is something special, timeless about the tales of the seal people.

My brother gave me the book for my birthday this year and it is one of those rare books that are an easy read which do not lose the richness of language. The writing, the narration, has an easy gait to it, but I did not want to rush through it. The stories needed to be savoured, so I would dip in and read a chapter, then sit there and mull it over. I felt I was traveling with the author, David Thomson. My brother had given me a first edition and the pages are now delicate, the dust jacket worn. It is a treasure to enjoy slowly. Sometimes I would look up words I was unsure of, words describing clothing I had not heard of, like bawneen, or the pronunciation of those tricky Gaelic words. Life of the islanders in the 1950's had the old ways upon them; the old men had certain ways of life and attitude the younger folk had started to lose. It was similar in that way to reading Mary Webb's 'Precious Bane'. She wrote of a time passing and the old ways just about hanging on, but a generation earlier in England.  'The People of the Sea' by David Thomson, is a book I will treasure for a long time.

There is something very magical about what I call the Old Stories and Ancient Stories - the folk and faerie tales, the myths and sagas of long ago, but there is something even more magical, or deeper to the Selchidh, Selkie stories. I often wonder what it is. My mother, I think, told me the story of the Woman of the Sea when I was young, or someone did when we visited the Isle of Aran in my very young days. I rediscovered the story in Kevin Crossley-Holland's wonderful book 'Northern Lights, Legends, Sagas and Folk-tales' when I bought it in 1987. It was a great rediscovery. I have been sharing the tale since then. That book got me into folk and faerie tales as an adult in my 20's.

There are many fun tales to be told, some stories which beg for humour. There are those filled with depth, and those with meaning, but the Selkie tales for me stand out. Is it because of the shape-shifting ability? (My son likes werewolves!) Does this dual life appeal to us because these tales offer a hope of something else when things get rough, life gets tough? Could some of us, the dark haired of us, walk to the coast, dive in and take form of a seal?

I was having lunch with Papa Joe a couple of days ago and we were talking about stories and how there are different types of tales that come to you. I am not talking about motifs or the
Aarne–Thompson tale type index, I am talking about how a story finds you. When I come across a tale I love, there are times the story is immediately lodged into my head and never leaves, like, for me, the Woman of the Sea; and The Goat from the Hills and Mountain, collected by Alma Flor Ada and Isabelle Campoy. There are other stories which I know I want to tell but stay dormant in my mind as I process them, mull them over. Sometimes years pass before I tell them, like Beowulf (still mulling around!), or those which have not yet given me their voice yet like Little Red Riding Hood - she is out and about now! Although Woman of the Sea sank in immediately, but I did not tell it for years. I would share it, but not tell it. As I said to Papa Joe, it is like buying a brand new pair of very good, expensive, leather hiking boots - you would never go hiking the same day, you would break the boots in over days and weeks. The Selkie stories, all of them, to me are like that. I have them in my mind and could tell them, but they need, no, I need to be broken in with the story. The tales need to tell me how to share them, how I personally can best serve the stories and those who listen. Some stories are like sneakers and you can jump into them and start running; some are like dress shoes, you polish them up and keep them polished; and some are like hiking boots that need to be worn for a good while before taking them out. Maybe that's why I like the Selkie stories so much, once you have worn them for a while they will last forever, and will take you to places you never thought you would go.

For a source of Selkie stories, or books with the stories of the seal people, go to my website.
http://www.diamondscree.com/selkies
Peace,
Simon

It's not Friday the 13th, but it is Jason!

Since Friday the 13th first 'graced' the silver sceen in 1980, the name Jason has been synonymous with ice hockey masks and slasher movies, but before that, there was another Jason. This Jason was joined, according to Padraic Colums's book, The Story of the Golden Fleece, by heroes who themselves were the seed of the gods, or at least demi-gods. It's been a while since I read or studied the book, but a side project I am working on had me pick it up. This truly impressive telling ties in stories of Theseus, Daedalus, Atalanta, Hercules (Heracles), Perseus, Demeter  and Persephone. Although originally geared toward young eyes and minds, it reads incredibly well and the language, now, might be better suited to middle school and up. Still, dig up a copy and read it. Call it a late beach read!

Photo by Simon Brooks (C) 2014

This side project began about 2 or 3 years ago when I was asked to tell some Greek myths.  I will be leaving the Odyssey and Odysseus alone, as there are many others who do that already, and do it really well. I will be sticking to the stories that come before Troy.  Although not a huge fan of the Greek tales due the amount of abuse and mis-use of females in the stories and Zeus just going when and where he wanted and the constant lying to Hera and her savage revenge against the innocent, I found some tales to be really good. And Daedalus was one of them. Because I have not really looked much at Greek myths since school, I was reminded of so much and rediscovered for myself the intricacies of these stories. Daedalus helped Theseus through Ariadne, Theseus meet Demeter on his travels to find his father, Demeter's daughter was picking the Narcissus flower when she was taken to the Underworld. Theseus' father knew Medea who sailed with Jason, but then so did Theseus, okay, it's getting confusing! But it popped the thought in my head that I should work on these stories and record them.

So I did. I wrote the story of Daedalus, and later Theseus, well part of it, and the story of Persephone and performed those. I recorded the story of Daedalus a few weeks ago and it sounds good! I worked on and told the story of Midus. These stories have been told with all the meat on them, or have been watered down for younger ears. But these stories can be told to all ages. Sure, you might not want to mention that Poseidon was so angry with Minos that he got the king's wife drunk and had Hera cause her to have intercourse with the White Bull which the sea god had given Minos to sacrifice- hence their son the Minotaur! (This is one of the moments where the women are mistreated. Why not have Minos give birth to his Minotaur son? His wife had nothing to do with it as far as I can tell.) I researched and wroteup the story of King Midus and performed it. It is a funny story, although the ending a bit grim and disgusting (but can be used as a warning against the consumption of alcohol)! Midos is an idiot! Researching has been a blast. Discovering new parts to the stories is so exciting. Reading Ovid and learning the full story of Alcyone was a treat after seeing it told in a paragraph or two in so many places. And you find that Ceyx knew Theseus. (That Theseus gets around!) One of my other favourite tales is that of Perseus. The ending when he returns home and his old dog dies, and he saves his mother is just wonderful. Great stories with grit!

Apollo gives Midus his ears

So if, like me, you were not a huge fan of the Greek tales, take another look at them. Read the story of Jason or Perseus. Check out some of the other stories too. Or better yet, let me know if you want to hear the stories recorded! They are slowly coming together. My plan is to make a book and record all the stories in a way that all will want to hear.

Why Do I Tell Folk Tales?

Why Folk Tales? 

Based on an interview with Sam Payne of BYU Radio, and the Apple Seed show.

http://preview.tinyurl.com/qyyggrj

Old folk stories are still around because they are such great stories. If I get a book published, that would be great, but I don’t expect it be around in 100 year’s time. How many books have been printed since 1900 and before, which are no longer in print, nor being read, or have even been forgotten? I want to give the Old Stories which have been around not just for hundreds of years but thousands, in some cases, the light they deserve, the voice that they need.

Arthur Rackham, 1910

Because the Old Tales, the folk and faerie tales, myths and legends have been passed down from generation to generation, during that time cultures change, way of life changes and the stories change with that. But they still have the core value, the core lessons in them, if you want to find the lessons in them. These stories are powerful, and strong, and yet adults and kids are not getting to hear them.  These stories are so deep, we need to get them out to adults as well as to children. Some of these tales have a lot of red meat in them. If you were to tell one or two of these to a group of kindergarteners they would be going home telling their parents: “Mummy, there was this scary man there, and I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.” Not all folk and faerie tales are like that, but there are a good number which are. And there are stories about life, love, growing up, and death. It is a shame that adults think it is stuff for kids, but it’s not all like that. There are many stories which are deep and have much meaning in them. I told my own version of Little Red Riding Hood to a group of 12 year olds who thought, when I mentioned it before I began, it was a little kids story. They saw another side of it, by the time I had told the tale. These tales were not meant for books, they need to be told.

I love the fact that the MOTH is out there and people are sharing their personal stories. I think it is great that people are sharing their stories. We all do it, whether on a stage, or by the water cooler. Some of the stories I have heard on the Moth, I wonder why they are shared and broadcast across the country if not the world, but they are interesting and some are great. It is all about empathy and how we see each other as other human beings, and how we translate our experiences with one another, or don’t!  But these tales, these shared experiences will not be around in 50 years time. The old folk tales need to be heard, too. I do not tell personal stories, not often, because these old tales are so important. We should be giving the Old Tales the air time they deserve, and need, and keep them for another few thousand years.

Yesterday I was told by one listener after my performance that she couldn’t tell stories. “But,” I told her, “You will be telling stories about your trip here, when you get home.” Teachers tell me they are not storytellers, yet the best teachers ARE storytellers. Humans inherently learn through story and experience. List a bunch of facts and they are hard to remember, but couch them in a story and the facts will stay. Some storytellers dress up, and act out stories, but there are many who do not. They may only use hand gestures (which they may or may not be aware of), or facial expressions, but there are some storytellers, who just use their voice, and a certain choice of words. And it always engages. Even the ‘most troublesome kid in the class.' Those are the ones who usually respond the best!

When you use folk tales, there is a layer of separation, and it is this which allows one to identify themselves safely with the stories. They can see issues and difficulties second-hand, if you will, which can act as a buffer, whether the audience is elderly and the story is about death, or the audience is a bunch of middles schoolers who are trying to deal with bullying.

Start with the personal stories, they are easier to remember after all. But then move into the folk and faerie realm of stories, share the myths and legends, and be prepared to see those Old Stories in a completely new light.

Simon Brooks (c) 2014

Odds Bodkin at the White Mountain Storytelling Festival - coming very soon!

Between Friday the 26th of September, 2014 and Sunday the 28th of September, once again the New Hampshire Storytelling Alliance will be hosting the White Mountain Storytelling Festival. It will take place at Waterville Valley in the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountains, and will have Odds Bodkin featuring and presenting two concerts.

Other tellers at the festival are: Mark Chamberlain, Mark Lang, Simon Brooks (me!), Cora Jo Ciampi, Peter Brodeur (who will also be opening for Odds), Lani Peterson, Joey Talbot, Gelaldine Buckley, and me!

These concerts are part of a three day event which begins on Friday evening with ghost stories at the town gazebo, stories told by Angela Klingler, Ruth Niven, Lauretta Phillips, Mike Lockett, Shelly Hershey and Andy Davis. If you like a good shiver, in amongst the fall colours, this is a great event to come to. Saturday will begin with a concert of tellers at 11 am and the day will have three concerts on top of the performances by Odds. Two of the concert of tellers will be family friendly and none will be up against Odds. There will be lots to do. If it gets a little chilly, then at noon there is a chilli cook-off in the town square! The other tellers at this year's festival will be: Mark Chamberlain, Mark Lang, Simon Brooks (me!), Cora Jo Ciampi, Peter Brodeur (who will also be opening for Odds), Lani Peterson, Joey Talbot, Gelaldine Buckley, and me (did I mention that already?)!

I will be performing a story at the 11 am performance at the Meeting Place.

In case you have never been to the White Mountain Storytelling Festival, I have put photographs I took at the 2012 Festival which featured Rebecca Rule and Jo Radner. Click on the link below to check them out. The photos of the bowling pumpkin are NOT here!

https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/+SimonBrooks/albums/6043058043293573265

This is a fabulous event and is great for families. Full Festival Adult tickets can be accompanied by up to 4 children under 12 free!  Families who want to go to the evening performance by Odds Bodkin (7.30 pm) will have pay $2.00 for each child!  For full details of the event, please go to the New Hampshire Storytellers Alliance website and visit the Festival Page. I for one am looking forward to all the tellers who will be there; it is a GREAT line-up!

On (and off) the road - or when not listen to your GPS

Tonight (Sunday 29th June) I was heading for a gig. The performance was for a client I have worked for for many years. The venue has always been the same. Although I moved with my family about 3 years ago, I know where I am going. The GPS is a safety blanket, if you like, really there to tell me how on time, or in tonight's case, how early I would be.

My, up to this point, trusted GPS, said: "Take that left'. A new route for me, one I have ignored many times. I know the area fairly well and how to get to where I am going. But I had time, so I thought 'why not'. The arrival time says I have plenty of time and I can always back track, I am only a few miles away at this point. So I take 'that left'.  I know it will bring me out on one of the main roads as I have taken the road before. "Take a right," said my GPS. Okay, I am not sure where this will take me, but I still have plenty of time. The pavement ends and a dirt road begins, but there are many dirt roads around here. Some folks vote for them to stay dirt because people drive too fast on some, 'imagine what kind of speed track it would be if it were paved.' So off I go.

I love to drive. When I say drive, I mean DRIVE. I have a stick shift, because that, to me, is driving. Not highway driving either, but the beautiful scenic roads aplenty in New England. Roads with curves, and ups and downs that require shifting gears, and good command of your car. This looked like a fun dirt road, steep in places, curves, downhill bits with hard corners at the bottom. But it was getting narrower. No problem, many country roads in the UK are as narrow as a horse where the speed limit is 50 m.p.h. on some of them. Some of those roads I grew up with have high hedges so you would only know a large tour bus were on the same road, with cars and bikes appearing like magic! I was not driving at 50 mph, but 20 to 25 mph. and then the road began to get muddy, and rocky, and deep grooves made by the last truck which had taken this road. Only two point five miles to my destination and this is the back end of the road the venue is on. Never been this way before. Always come from the other side.  Not sure if it is faster though, even if it is shorter.

Suddenly the road gets worse. I have to drive close to one side or another to avoid the massive grooved tracks and rocks in the road. Huge puddles. Bad drainage. Muddy grooves which I could bottom out in and become stuck in if I am not careful. Pulled out with a big truck stuck, but there is space if I hug the edge. My Corrolla is not a low street car, and has pretty good clearance. When we moved from Boston I saw the practicality of a sensible car on back roads such as this. Wait, did the bottom of the car scrape? Not good. 'If it happens again, I will turn back. But the road is narrow. How can I turn around?' I think.  I look for a spot. Only 2 miles now. Still have time. (Ever seen The Incredibles? Mr. Incredible keeps looking at his watch, saying "I've got time." And JUST makes it to his own wedding. And then I see the road in front is half stream, and half mud and rock. There is JUST enough space and there are rocks I can put in the tracks to give me the clearance I need. It can't get worse than this, I think. I place the rocks carefully on the road where I need them, get in the car, cross the muddy road and nip over, but hear the car bottom out again, but I made it.  Around the corner, down the hill, even closer now, but wait. There is NO WAY I can get through there.  Backing up a muddy dirt road is not an easy task. But I did it, and found a fence with a heavy duty cable which the back of my car should just sneak under. It does, I turn the car around and head back to the narrow crossing. Time is now Very Tight.

When I drive over the rocks this time, they are not high enough. Of course. It is muddy and the weight of the car driving over it pressed the rocks into the ground. My car bottoms out and gets stuck. Only a little bit, I tell myself. The front wheels (front wheel drive) are spinning. Mud flecks hit the windows. Bother. I got out of the car, and look underneath. There is a space where there is no daylight coming through. I looked around and seeing some rocks in the stream which flows across the road pull them out of the water and get them up against the front wheels. They don't bite. I try putting bits of sticks and wood which surrounds me under the tyres (UK spelling). Nothing. Need to call the venue and let them know I am stuck. I feel like an idiot, and for good reason. No phone signal (great), so I keep trying to get the car unstuck. Now it is smells like the clutch is working too hard. More rocks, stones and wood, but they are just pushed into the mud.

At this point I need to call. I am going to be late even if I can get off the rocks - I need help. So I walk and walk and walk until I get a signal. I walk at least a mile to get a signal. Help will be sent. I walk back. Up hill. And run some. I cannot just sit and wait. I am not like that, so I think and think. What do I need to do to move the car? It needs to be raised off the mud. If I empty the car it will be lighter, and might be high enough. I empty the car. Still not off the mud.  I need a lever. There is nothing strong enough that I can see. Then I realize that I could jack the car up! I can put stones and rocks (they are littered everywhere) under the wheels and bring the car height up and drive off this ruddy, muddy knoll!

I get the jack out and keep trying to get the car higher. Getting the jack under the car was a slight problem, but I found a couple of spots with enough space to get the jack under with a stone underneath it so it would not just push itself into the mud. One side of the car done, and then the other. No sign of help yet either. I look at my watch and it has taken an hour to do all this. It almost works, but need to get the car a little higher, so up with the jack again. A larger, longer and flatter piece of rock and I can get moving. This is a ruddy workout. I am now filthy. And mosquitoes are feasting on me tonight. I do get moving. And I remember to pack the car up again. But going down the hill was not as easy as going up. Too fast and I will crack something in one of the many ditches, which seemed to be fine going up hill. I also don't want to go too fast in case a large truck coming to rescue me is coming in the other direction from around a sharp bend.

I get out of this mess and I get a signal again on my phone, and a huge truck is flagging me down.

Windows down and a Southern accent calls out: "Are you Simon Birch?"

"No Simon Brooks, but have you come to rescue me?" I say.

"We did! Gees look at your car! How did you get out? We tried coming from the other side and couldn't make it."

The grill of this truck was higher than the roof of my car! I could probably drive a smaller, lower car under the truck! I told them what I had done, with sweat still running down my face.  They cannot see my white pants covered in mud, but I show them my brown hands still ingrained with mud.

"Are people still waiting for me?" I ask. "Is my contact still up?" My contact has young kids and sometimes takes off to put them to bed before I finish my stories there.

"No, everyone's gone to their cabins now. Sorry we were late getting to you, we couldn't find the road from this side."

"Hey, thanks for trying, I really appreciate it." I felt like saying, 'here, take my blooming GPS it will get you there!' but I didn't.

"We'll see you next week. Get home, now! And no short cuts, okay?"

"No more short cuts, I promise!" I told them there was a house with a drive just a few feet up the road, and that they shouldn't go further up the road unless they wanted to back the truck down the hill.  There was no way that beast could be turned around. It would have barely fit on the 'road'!

So what's the point of sharing my stupidity with you? (I still have dirt under my nails, but I will get that out as soon as I finish this.)
Learn from my mistakes. I knew how to get to the gig. I have been there probably at least 50 times, over the years. I thought I had time to check out a new route.

I didn't, it turned out. Don't do what I did! Go the route you know. Even if the GPS says 'This way could be quicker'. It may not be. Also, if you hit a dirt road that looks rough, hit that button that says, 'Find Alt Route' and tell your GPS there's a road block. Or look at your map to find another route. You do have a map for back-up, right?

And the fall out from this: My daughter heard me leaving a message when I got home apologizing for messing up the evening. The whole drive back home I was thinking that this stupid mistake not only makes me look bad, but also my client. They had planned to entertain their guests, and they were not able to. I felt terrible that I had let them down. My daughter told me it was not my fault, that I did not know I would get stuck. But what I did know, was that taking the road I knew, and had taken many, many times, would get me there in plenty of time. That if I had taken that well known route, I would have arrived looked spiffy in my white pants; and felt fresh and relaxed and ready to welcome people into the place of story. It was my fault I did not take that route, and instead I got myself filthy, and bug bitten, but more importantly, I left my clients patrons disappointed.

UPDATE (3rd July): Last night, after arranging for a make-up (for free of course) I went to the venue. I arrived very early taking my normal route. I told stories for about an hour and a half, including the tale I told above. The people there (who were the same folks waiting for my stories on Sunday) were thrilled I was there and got a good laugh out of the adventure. My clients were happy I had offered to make up for my bad choices of route and I will be back there on the 7th July!

Happy 4th July everyone!
Simon

Summer Reading, Get That Feeling

There are a lot of resources out there to keep your young friends and family members reading and it is important to do so!  Research has shown that if students do not keep their chops up over the summer holidays their learning can drop back at least one whole month. That is a lot to catch up when you start back at school.

Here are some helpful links:
The American Library Association's reading list:
http://www.ala.org/alsc/2014-summer-reading-list

The Collaborative Summer Library Program (all American states, I believe, are now part of this.  Vermont and New Hampshire were the last to join!):
http://www.cslpreads.org/

Goodreads has a good source of summer reading for all ages, from kids to adults:
https://www.goodreads.com/list/tag/2014

The Huffington Post has a list of Must Read books for Grown-Ups:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/01/07/2014-books_n_4550607.html

I am adding Scholastic's site as it has some resources, but you have to log in and it is very fussy. Resources are there for kids, parents and educators:
http://www.scholastic.com/ups/campaigns/src-2014

Want to read some research to back up my earlier comment:
http://cslpreads.org/learning-tools/summer-reading-research.html

and this from the New York State Library:
http://www.nysl.nysed.gov/libdev/summer/research.htm

This years Summer Reading Program theme is science - namely: Fizz, Boom, READ! If you want to tie in some activities at home with this, don't forget the basic science of home economics, just remember to cook healthy snacks and hold back on the juices and sugar!  And your school will have a list of books for folks to read, too. Those, hopefully, come home with the students!

The web is a fabulous source for science too, if you want to play and experiment:
Edutopia:
http://www.edutopia.org/blog/super-simple-summer-science-activities-bob-pflugfelder

Remember that wonderful kids show, ZOOM (rhymes with BOOM!)? They maybe off the air, but are still alive and well on the web:
http://pbskids.org/zoom/activities/sci/

Education.com has some pretty excellent experiments too:
http://www.education.com/activity/science/
http://www.education.com/activity/science/

If you want some traditional stories to go along with all that, then try looking up the stories of the stars, going back to Home Ec., what about Hansel and Gretel? For those of us who love rocks and creation stories, there is a huge topic of interest called Geomythology. Some of the books I have on my shelf (not guaranteed to be in print) which might help are:
Beyond the Blue Horizon, by Dr. E.C. Krupp
Sun Stories, and The Return of Light, by Carolyn Edwards
Myths of the Sacred Tree by Moyra Caldecott
Tales of the Shimmering Sky by Susan Milord (includes activities)
Why the North Star Stands Still, by William Palmer
A Forest of Stories, by Rina Singh
and of course the wonderful collection of tales and activities put together by Joseph Bruchac and Michael Caduto:
Keepers of the Earth
Keepers of the Night
Keepers of the Animals
Keepers of Life

Can we count science fiction as science? Hmm...
If so, check out any Ray Bradbury, (Fahrenheit 451), Heinlein (Stranger in a Strange Land) and Arthur C Clarke (Rendezvous with Rama which I read in high school as compulsory reading). Or something a little more modern:
Rushed, by Brian Harmon
The Sentinel, by Eden Winters
Tanglewreck by one of my top favourite writers, Jeanette Winterson
and the Sixth Science Fiction Megapack, by Art et al!

I hope this is of some help. Keep your minds sharp, your bodies moving, and your fingers flexing!

And let's hope for more fizz and reading, and not so much BOOM & BANG!

Peace,
Simon