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Whats On the Writing Table?
I am currently editing 'Dad's Island' a thriller set in Bristol and on Rathlin Island off the coast of Northern Ireland.
Bruce and his assistant Janie have witnessed the murder of their boss and are being hunted by the murderer, a ruthless drugs Lord. Eventually, after several attempts to kill them, Bruce and Janie opt to go to Dad's Island. There, Bruces dad, a retired General and his castle retirement home for all his special forces comrades.
The drugs lord sends an invading force, but they have no idea that they would come face to face with the gardening club, the birdwatching club and the W.I. knitters. The invaders have no chance against Dad's army.
This book has earned a research trip to Rathlin island which you can find details of the trip in my blog.
Author
I love creating fresh, new pantomime scripts for the stage. Pantomime is my first love but the classic five or six Pantomimes have all been done to death. So that's how my original take on classic stories was born. I know there are lots of theatre groups and clubs that all think the same. So this site is for them.
A Trip North!
It was raining when we set off.
I co-write with Steve and he had asked if I fancied a trip to Leeds to see one of his pantomimes, The Sword in the Scone. I’m just a southern softie and Leeds sounded awfully northern, especially with the last thrashings of Storm Arwen about, but I was intrigued to see Steve’s panto performed and readily agreed.
So we set off with Steve driving and accompanied by his mother-in-law Pam and son Thomas. The weather soon brightened and we had an easy drive, motorway all the way. After just 4 hours on the road, including a comfort break, a rainbow greeted us as we arrived.
Our destination was Whitkirk, located in East Leeds, and the community hall that provided the venue was spacious and welcoming. It soon filled up and the packed audience were anticipating an evening of music and laughter. They were not disappointed.
I don’t intend giving an in depth review of the performance. Suffice to say that baddies were booed, heroes were cheered and the hall rang with laughter. Having been denied live theatre for two years the good people of Whitkirk were clearly in the mood to make up for lost time.
Special mention must go to some people, though. Louise Norbury-Robinson took on the role of Dame, an unusual challenge for a female. However, she carried it off with aplomb. Merlin had an enormous number of lines to learn and deliver and did so confidently and with style. Brian the Dragon stole every scene he was in.
The Whitkirk Arts Guild can be immensely proud of their production under the supervision of Director Laura Harvey who really did provide a super vision.
Finally, of course, there is the small matter of the script. Steve has done yet another excellent job providing a twist on a well-known story to create something exceptionally different. Well done to all concerned!
Our drive back south was once again straightforward during another sunny day, quelling my fears of the rain and windswept north.
It was raining when we arrived home.
Congratulations to Whitkirk Arts Guild on their production of "The sword in the Scone".
A great show.
And thank you for presenting me with my very own sword to commemorate the event.
Trip to Rathlin Island
Part I
My son Thomas and I left it 4:30am from my house to get to Bristol airport at 5:00am check in time, driven by my brother-in-law Phil. Both my son and I had not eaten yet, so we opted for Burger King at the airport. It turned out to be a mistake, on my part, as I felt bloated for the rest of the morning and the biggest part of the afternoon.
The flight to Belfast was uneventful and upsetting. I'm a big baby and wanted my passport stamped, but no one even wanted to look at it. At Belfast International airport, we had a choice of trying to manoeuvre through the public transport system, rent a car, or get a taxi. With the thought of having a four or five-hour journey on the bus system, we decided that was not an option. Renting a car meant that I would have to park it in Ballycastle for three days safely. I wasn't sure about that either, so we opted for a taxi.
Steven, in his big black Mercedes, was next in line, outside the airport, and I asked him if he would take us the 50 miles to Ballycastle. He agreed, and it took us an hour and a half, because of the many road works, to get to the first stop in my novel, which is Morton's cafe on the harbour. Oh, and that taxi cost us £95 Ouch!
Part II next week