Back to Basics

For those of you who have been over here in the last week or so you may have noticed that I have stripped my blog back to basics. I've never really found a background that I felt suited this blog or my personality so I'm hoping to have a customized one designed for me or failing that I will have to sharpen up my crayons and do it myself.

Now I do have an an A level in Art and consider myself somewhat arty-farty but the truth is I've seen enough people with genuine artistic talent to know that when it comes to art I am still at this stage:

Woman on Grass (take that anyway you want) by J A Turley.

I know some of you kind hearted folks out there will be saying it's a work of magnitude and should be exhibited at The Tate Modern with all the other works of  shite  genius but the truth is, Dear Readers, I know my artistic capabilities are not that great. In fact, I once drew a cow that look liked this:

Cow in Air by J A Turley

Unfortunately it wasn't that great. Neither is this version -although at least I manage to remember to draw clouds this time so maybe my skills are improving.

Anyway, back to the basics talk. Now the observant amongst you will also notice that I have changed my web address from janeturleydiaryofamadhousewife.blogspot.com to janeturley.net. There are three reasons for this:

1) The original is too long and looks totally unprofessional for such a sophisticated and intellectually challenging website. 

2) After five years I still write "dairy" instead of diary which just goes to show that either I'm dyslexic or as the saying goes "you can't teach an old dog new tricks." 

(For those of you unfamiliar with this saying it means anyone over the age of forty is stuck in a fashion time warp, hasn't got a chance in hell of winning University Challenge and probably can't remember their surname without prompting.)

3) At the age of forty seven and after five years blogging I feel I am mature enough to have a proper domain.

Oh look what I've just drawn!

Pig in Curlers by J A Turley

Now for any of you thinking of buying you're own domain from Blogger is costs about $12.50 or roughly £7.90 with taxes etc. It's easy enough to buy but logging into the account to manage your domain is not a clear process and I had to go and beat my head against a brick wall several times. Other than that the only disadvantage is that your page rankings on Goggle maybe affected for a while and you lose all record of your statistic if people have shared your posts on Google + etc. Everything else appears to remain the same.

So there you have it. I am aiming to have a more professional blog. A fourth reason being that if I finally have a book to market to agents in the spring I'll have to like know look I know what I'm doing - n'est ce pas?

Oh and if you enjoy my posts please share on Google+ et al. Obviously, I'm happy to send you one of my drawings in exchange or complete any drawing requests here on my blog. 

How long did you take to plan your wedding?

Oh cripes.

Oh cripes.

Oh cripes.

Oh cripes.

I just read about a woman who planned her wedding day for TEN WHOLE years - even though she hadn't  even met her husband to be.

Is that normal??? Answers on a postcard please  - but if you want to write a thesis go ahead. You could get a doctorate out of it. I know I could.

I reckon I could turn that idea into a novel. Yeah, imagine that. It would probably be a psycho-thriller of course.

Although it could also be erotica - only instead of the heroine making out with a Christian Grey type of character she self-flagellates with copies of Brides Weekly or Good Housekeeping.

 What d'you reckon?

You know, I was feeling kind of low today. A bit bored, a bit depressed. Perhaps even on the edge of tucking into a forbidden chocolate bar. Now I know what to do to keep myself occupied - I'm going to start planning my funeral. Now that should be a real laugh.

The Importance of Being Earnest

As readers come and go and I have five years of writing to wade though I thought today I would post links to three of my most consistently popular blogs. Funny posts come and go in their popularity but the three I'm posting today have been three of the most consistently read since they were first published. Ironically, they are not in the slightest funny and I think that's no bad thing. I do believe looking at the lighter side of life is good for one's morale but there's also a time and a place for serious reflection.

So here are my top three serious posts.

In 2009 I conducted an interview with author and journalist, Paul Brown, about climate change and his book Global Warning Last Chance for Change. Since then a steady stream of people have to come to read Paul's interview from all across the globe. However, in the last year that traffic has increased quite significantly with people arriving from Europe, in particular from France, on an almost daily basis. Indeed, some of those people return two or three times to read the same post. So if you're a new reader and are interested in climate change I urge you to read this enlightening interview and in the interests of spreading the news please feel free to share, link or spread the word by some other means.

The second post is an eulogy I wrote for my mother after her sudden death in October 2008. Again, a steady stream of people come to my blog to read this eulogy. Many of these come back two or three times within the same week. Out of all my blogs this one gives me the greatest satisfaction in the belief that, in some small way, my words have helped others to write their own eulogies when they are at their most vulnerable and grief stricken.

The last is a poem I wrote about poverty in October 2008 shortly before mother died. It hasn't had the same consistency of readership as the previous two posts but over the last few months that has changed as it has been picked up by a large forum. I wrote this poem in a very short space of time but looking back I still like it and feel it has something worthwhile to say.

I had a curious dream

I had a really weird dream last night.

I dreamt I met Ricky Gervais who asked me to audition for a role in his new movie as... Santa Claus.

(This could be quite a disturbing post. Be warned.)

So in preparation for my audition I asked  the good Mr T to listen to me rehearse my speech in the deep bellowing voice like all Santa's should have. Sadly, Mr T was uber critical of my abilities so I stormed off in a huff to practise my song and dance routine.

Yes, I was going to star in a Ricky Gervais film as an all-singing, all-dancing Santa Claus.

You know, I'd always dreamt of starring in a Lara Croft type movie but what do I end up with? A singing bloody Santa. Life (and  dreams) are so unfair aren't they?

Anyway, no matter how hard I tried, I could not remember the lyrics to the tune I was supposed to be singing. I was like an extremely bad X factor contender only twice as old and twice as stupid. At this point I woke up traumatised by the fact I was going to miss out on a glamorous Hollywood role because I couldn't remember the lyrics to a simple song.

This morning I still can't remember the lyrics - just the tune. Although it did possibly have the words "Everyone is crazy" in it and was probably sung by a 1980s American rock band.

Any ideas anyone?

In the meantime, whilst my brain is trying to work out which song it was I've also been trying to analysis my dream for any subliminal messages. So far I've come up with:

1) I have a crush on Ricky Gervais (This is actually news to me as I had no idea I fancied him at all. I mean when I dreamt about Hugh Grant I could sort of understand it....)

Or

2) Ricky Gervais is trying to tell me I'm not funny or I'm telling him he's not funny. Or we're both not funny or Ricky Gervais is looking for a woman who likes dressing up as a bearded man who has a penchant for elves.

3) Mr T is not happy with my housekeeping skills. (I sort of knew that one - but I've been choosing to ignore it for twenty years. Maybe guilt is catching up on me.)

4) I'm fat.

5)I can't act.

6) I can't sing.

7) My memory is kaput.

So basically, it was one of those dreams you can't take any positives from. Now unless anyone out their can come up with anything even remotely encouraging for me I'm going to lie down for a long time. I don't think this getting old business is doing me any good at all.

Ps - whilst I'm lying down please vote for my friend Tony to go into space - see previous post.

Who would you like to send into space?

So a question for you, Dear Readers.

Who would you like to send into space?

And please don't say me. Because I care about you deeply and would be wounded beyond reason. And I also have a very, very long memory.

So long as it doesn't involve car keys, shopping lists or my glasses.

Anyway, I've come up with my top twelve people I'd like to send into space. Here we go:

1) Jocelyn Wildestein aka The Bride of Wildenstein. From a scientific standpoint, I think it would be interesting to know how a lack of gravity affects plastic surgery. Also, I'd like to know what happens to breast implants when a spaceships falls back to earth and bursts through our atmosphere.

2) Paul McCartney. I'm intrigued to see if space could make him sing any higher. I'm not convinced it's possible but I'll go with the experiment just so Stella McCartney can design some hideous spacesuit.

3) Gary Barlow. Just to see if he can write a song about it. God, I hope not.

4) Angela Merkel, Chancellor of Germany. It has certain irony about it when you remember Lebensraum.

5) Paris Hilton. Kim Kardashian. In the hope she never comes back.

Oh sod it, let's squeeze them both in.

6) Hugh Fearnley-Whititingstall, celebrity chef. I simply cannot wait to see if Hugh can cook some home grown, organic feast in space. The very idea of him watering cress seeds and crushing up vitamins tablets with a pestle and mortar in the outer reaches of the universe already has me quietly celebrating his ultimate downfall.

7.) A Teletubbie. I don't care which one. I just want to know if those aerials work.

I think I'll send Stinky Winky because he/she/it  has the most impressive aerial. Come to think of it they all look remarkably like The Bride of Wildenstein. Hmm... that's kind of worrying. (Picture courtesy of Wikipedia)

8.) Cherie Blair. Question: Can space improve your looks?

9.) Sting. Just because he gets on my nerves. I'm also interested to know how tantric sex works in a gravity free environment.  The trouble is I don't plan on sending Sting's wife - so he'd have to do it with one of the others which, if I'm being honest here, is a tad unfair of me even if it is Sting. Still he can duet with Sir Paul for some light relief. That should be fun. Sort of. In a sado/masochistic "fun" sort of way.

10.) Beyonce: I want to know if lip syncing works in space. Are there any significant time delays?

11) Sigourney Weaver. You've just got to have her, right? No way are the others gonna get back to earth without Sigourney kicking ass and shooting the f*** out of those aliens. And as I'm a fair woman I'd like to give the others a reasonable chance. (Ha.)

No one messes with Sigourney. Not even Sir  Paul, who despite all his achievements, hasn't kicked any aliens butts. I'll reckon he'll be the first to go. Unless he can sing his way out of it.  Although somehow if his performance at the Diamond Jubilee is anything to go by I don't think the Alien Bitch will be impressed.  Still, I guess he could take some pre-recordings with him and ask Beyonce for some advice.

12) My mate Tony. Cos he's dumb enough to want to. Please can you vote for him here. Honestly, this really is a genuine appeal. It really is. It'll only take a minute of your time and Tony will be really, really grateful. I thought Tony was winding me up when he asked me to put something on my blog - because a man who posts a profile picture of himself wearing cycle shorts on  Facebook has got to be suspect hasn't he? Anyway, it turns out Tony was actually telling the truth. He really does want to go into space. Gulp.

Ps - thanks:)

A Book Recommendation: Me Before You

I want to recommend a book to you. It's this one:

Women's mass market fiction with something to say. At last.

Out of necessity, this review contains some spoilers but I'm not going to reveal the ending so if you decide to read Me Before You there will still be something to discover.

Lou Clark is young woman who works in cafe and has never stretched her horizons. When she loses her job she soon meets handsome and witty Will Traynor, a wealthy businessman with a sharp tongue and arrogant attitude. Love blossoms.

Doesn't sound much different from any other mass market romance fiction does it? But it is.

The difference is that the hero, Will, doesn't have all the characteristics of a normal male protagonist. Unlike the usual impressive able bodied heroes of romance fiction Will has been severely injured in a motorcycle accident. Lou Clark is the carer who comes to love him. And what really lies at the heart of this book is not romance but a discussion about the right for an individual to chose whether to live or die. It's a story about euthanisa. 

As Lou's feelings towards Will begin to develop she discovers he wants to travel to Switzerland to end his life with the help of Dignitas. However, Will has promised his parents that he will give it one more year to see if he changes his mind. The question is -will the underlying love between Lou and Will be enough to save him? Will love bring enough respite to presuade Will to live out his days confined to a wheelchair? 

That's enough of the story. Now I want to tell you why this book is a winner.

Firstly, from a writer's perspective Jojo Moyes has been very clever. She uses a very conventional  formula which publishers know sells. I know from my own experience that trying to write anything that breaks the rules is frowned upon unless your a literary genius. Certainly, when it come to women's fiction publishers are pretty rigid in their ideas. However, Jojo Moyes was already a best selling author with a list of titles to her name who, with a hardcore of fans behind her to spread the good news, was better placed than most authors to push the boundaries of women's fiction.

Secondly, as a reader, this book is incredibly refreshing. It has the engaging relationship story line which is so popular amongst women readers but it also has a very serious message to convey. This is an ingredient which has been missing from a lot of mass market women's fiction. The success of  Me Before You proves what I've thought for a long time - that women are far more open to variable subject matter than publishers think. We want to read about serious subjects too - not just light, fluffy stories that as soon as you've finished it you've forgotten it. Of course there's a time and a place for frothy entertainment and many women enjoy it but there are also many women who actively want to read books that are not just entertaining but emotionally satisfying and intellectually challenging. Modern life as it is busy women don't have the time or the energy to to sit down with a heavy weight literary novel: there is a place on the book shelves for easy-to-read but intelligent writing.  Me before You is a good example of how an author can successfully meet the demands of mass market fiction and produce a thought provoking novel.

I highly recommend Me Before You.

Let's make that eleven words and phrases

I'm having a sleepless night. So I decided to whizz around the net and look at the headlines. Firstly, I went to The Mail because it's a light read and at 3 am as super intelligent as I am (that's irony by the way) my brain is not up to reading Dostoevsky. Big mistake - Demi Moore is back in the headlines. What is it with The Mail and their obsession with Demi Moore? Anyway, apparently Demi has an age-defying body and wears a bikini. Big deal. I have age-defying sense of humour (it's still childish) and wear thermals. I think I'll make whole article out of it for my blog and stick in twenty pictures of me in my PJs taken from every conceivable angle. I mean you all want to see my arse in flannelette PJs taken with a long distance lens from the top of a coconut tree don't you?

Yeah, so I lowered myself to reading the article about Demi. Although this was mainly just to see if the The Mail writers can actually keep writing this stuff without going completely bonkers. One day I hope to click on an article about Demi and see a blank page with a just a singular line from the writer which reads:

"I can't take anymore, I'm taking an overdose."

Now that would be news.

So after closing the article on Demi I scanned for something else to read and further down I spotted there was a header saying Amanda Holden had changed her hair colour from blonde to brunette. I couldn't be bothered to click on the article because the truth is whilst it may be the early hours of the morning and I am not at my best - I am not yet brain dead.

Don't argue with me. It's not polite. It's my blog.

Anyway, I decided enough was enough and I went over to The Telegraph for some mental stimulation where I read this article about school children who now can't catch balls. I have to say this fact came as no surprise to me. In fact, my only surprise was that kids even know what the word "ball" is.... However, in the article I did come across a new phrase that I am going to add to my list of words and phrases that annoy me. It's obviously the latest political correct mumbo jumbo in our schools. The phrase is "physical literacy".

Yes, apparently children need to be physically literate by ten or eleven years of age.

I wonder how long it took coin that phrase? I am beginning to fear that good old PE lessons (Physical Education) will now become Physical Literacy lessons. Yes, just to add to the confusion of how to catch a ball (reach out, open palms, watch flying object, don't duck, cup hand around ball ) kids will now be confused about which lesson they are actually attending. I can see kids turning up for PE having brought their copy of Romeo and Juliet and turning up to Literacy (which used to be English) in their shorts and tee shirts.

Really, is it any wonder kids can't catch a ball?