TEN BECOMES TWELVE

There will now be twelve short stories in my anthology plus a short autobiography.

NEW SHORT STORY ADDED

One sunny day in August, watching a game of cricket, my mind began to wander-how on earth was cricket invented?

My musings inspired me to invent my own game, and also to write a short story, which is included here on my website, www.stuartferguson.website.

Just click the tab: THE GAME IN QUESTION.

FIVE SHORT STORIES ADDED!

Most novelists like to think they can write short stories, and I am no exception! There is a certain attraction in tackling a writing project that can take as little as two days, rather than the two years typically needed for a novel.

I have written five short stories so far, with hopefully more to come. For the first time they are included here in full.

The titles are:

The Film Extra

An Interesting Change of Lifestyle

An Unexpected Reunion

Never Lose Hope

The Brand New Mum

VOLUNTEERING AT PARKRUN

205 Parkruns for me to date, but there is so much more to this great event than running 5 kilometres at 9 o’clock on a Saturday morning.

Last Saturday I volunteered as Run Director for Clair Parkrun, in my hometown of Haywards Heath. It was the ninth anniversary of the very first Clair Parkrun and a special photo was taken:

One of the duties of the Run Director is to post a report, so here is mine:

Clair Parkrun #404 23.7.22

A sultry summer morning, although well short of the 38 degrees experienced earlier in the week, welcomed 131 intrepid runners to our undulating course, including 24 first timers. First man home was William Grey with a time of 18.05, and first lady was Anna Ford in a time of 21.00, one of 11 PB’s.

It was a pleasure to welcome so many visitors from far and wide to our ninth anniversary run, including runners from Holland, Cape Town, Huddersfield, Bushy Park, Isle of Wight, Buckingham and Suffolk.

Thanks to our 15 volunteers and especially those who planned and took part in the first Clair Parkrun in July 2013, including Neil, Marion, Nick and Ric who were with us today. There was cake at the finish to celebrate today’s anniversary, and to replenish the calories used up in the run!

Look forward to seeing you all again soon.

Stuart Ferguson

Run Director

MORE REVIEWS FOR FLOWERS ON THE COLD WALL

‘Very enjoyable. Not everyone gets themselves into a semi-autobiographical novel as two different characters! Some of the pictures you painted with words describing different scenes were very vivid and beautiful. There is the potential for a sequel?’

and from Chris Blackwater, author of ‘Emergency Drill’ :

‘It’s a very engaging story. I like the mixture of prose, letters and news reports. I’m obviously too young to remember the sixties first hand! It’s a fascinating way to be reminded of the momentous events of the time.’

THIRD BOOK PUBLISHED AND OUT FOR REVIEW!

‘FLOWERS ON THE COLD WALL- A Sixties Saga’ was self-published in December, just in time for Christmas. Friends have kindly offered to review.

A re-edited and digitally re-mastered hardback version of ‘THE INCREDIBLE MILTONS OF SUSSEX’ will also be available soon.

STOP PRESS: First review of FLOWERS ON THE COLD WALL’ just in:

‘I have just finished reading your book, I really enjoyed it, excellent, keep writing….’

WHY I LOVE WRITING

  1. Sending the word document for my new book FLOWERS ON THE COLD WALL, and a wonderful cover designed by my daughter Helen, to Book Printing UK, the culmination of many hours of work over the last three years. Waiting for the first proof copy to drop onto the doormat, I feel like a kid in the days leading up to Christmas Day!

  2. The reaction to my updated hardback colour version of CAPTURED BY CROMWELL IN CALEDONIA has been unreal.

  3. Sending the research paper on my family history to Durham University and receiving good feedback from Professor Chris Gerrard, the head of the Scottish Soldiers project.

  4. Setting myself the challenge of writing a 4,000 word short story, staring at a blank screen for ten minutes, then using ‘stream of consciousness’ writing techniques to bash out an initial draft. It really wasn’t very good but it was a start. Somehow I managed to produce something I am quite pleased with after numerous re-drafts. It’s called ‘An Interesting Change of Lifestyle’.

I could go on but I will stop there for now!

2020- A PRODUCTIVE YEAR

I completed the first draft of my third book a year ago and anticipated publishing it in mid 2020. However when lockdown came I thought it would be an ideal opportunity to concentrate on my most demanding project to date: a paper on the family research for my first book, written to academic standards with full referencing for all the facts quoted.

It did of course require a totally different approach compared to writing a novel and I became totally absorbed in the work. It took me all spring and summer to write the paper, including summarising the English Civil War in 4 pages (!) and I was very pleased to finish it in October. I hope to submit the paper to Durham University when things are back to normal, whenever that is.

Meanwhile my novel was under review. Following some very helpful feedback I decided to re-write it! It was a much longer process than anticipated and more work is still needed. I think the end product is going to be really good and I am quite excited about it.

The advice I was originally given that ‘the first draft is only the first step in the novel writing process’ is so true!

Oh yes, I have also produced a full colour hardback version of my first book with many additional illustrations. I have a proof and it’s looking good. Watch this space!

FIRST DRAFT OF MY THIRD BOOK COMPLETED!

My third book is ‘Flowers In Their Hair-A tale of the Nineteen-Sixties featuring the Fab Four’.

First draft is 270 pages.

Will hopefully be available spring/summer 2020.

My appearance on a radio show!

I have just co-presented a two hour show on Mid Downs Radio with regular DJ Peter Freer-Ash to commemorate 50 years of the folk/rock/prog band ‘Strawbs’.

I bought their first album in May 1969 and have twice seen them play live. The most recent occasion was last November and the radio programme includes clips of Peter’s interview with founder member Dave Cousins after the concert.

You can listen to a recording of the show by clicking on the links below.

Released in May 1969

Released in May 1969

MY VISIT TO BATEMAN'S, THE HOME OF RUDYARD KIPLING

Does a person ever really leave a house, even after they die? This is the thought that struck me during my visit to Bateman’s, the much loved Sussex country retreat of writer and poet Rudyard Kipling. His presence hung heavy in the air during my four hour visit on a wet, blustery winter’s day.

I seemed to be aware of him even as I drove from the main road to the entrance of his estate. The narrow winding country lane separated him from the rest of the world, something he had craved since moving back to England from America after spending his early life in India.

Then I walked past the neatly laid out orchard towards the old red brick walled garden. I could imagine him catching his first sight of the beautiful views of the countryside, and falling in love with the place even before he had seen the elegant grey stone house, built in 1634.

Inside, his presence shouted at me in every room, especially the dark oak furniture which he chose personally to suit the character of the house. Then I noticed the unusual pictures, in the oak panelled hall, of scenes from his books sculpted in red clay by his father.

The most individual room, and not to everyone’s taste, is the dining room with its dark leather wallpaper, illustrated with a variety of plants and birds. Here Rudyard entertained such eminent guests as his cousin Stanley Baldwin and T.E. Lawrence, ‘Lawrence of Arabia’.

The sadness in his life hit me when I entered ‘John’s Bedroom’, named after his only son who was killed in the First World War. Photographs, medals, and even clothing are on display. In view of his poor eyesight he should never have been allowed to serve on the front line.

There is also a painting of his daughter Josephine. At the age of three she was already halfway through her tragically short life.

The undoubted highlight is the study, on the first floor overlooking the immaculate back garden, with its three thousand books of reference lining the walls. The centrepiece is the large desk, scattered with old papers and books, his spectacles, hourglass, blotter, ink-well and pipe. It is as if he has just put down his reading glasses and clay pipe to take a stroll in the garden.

Under the desk there is a small basket filled with screwed up sheets of paper. Kipling wrote all his works in longhand, ready to be typed by his secretary using the old typewriter which is also on display.

One can touch and smell Kipling’s old trunk and suitcase which have been placed on the floor of the Guest Room. In the large main bedroom there are many family photographs on display, his Nobel Prize for Literature, and first editions of some of his books with beautiful cover illustrations.

A visit to Bateman’s gives every visitor a wonderful opportunity to re-live Rudyard Kipling’s life in the early years of the twentieth century.

IMAGES FROM MY VISIT TO DURHAM

(1) Durham Cathedral, (2) The exhibition, in Palace Green library, on the scientific analysis of the Scottish soldiers' remains, (3) The inscription next to the grave for the burial, in May 2018, of the 28 soldiers whose remains were found and analysed, (4) The simple grave for the soldiers. They died in September/October 1650 so there was a gap of 368 years before having a proper Christian burial. The soil that you can see on the grave is from Dunbar.

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MY VISIT TO DURHAM

I have just returned from the city of Durham where I met with two members of Durham university's 'Scottish Soldiers' project team, project manager Sophie Daniels and senior archaeologist Richard Annis.

In November 2013 some human remains were discovered near the cathedral when foundations for a new cafe were being dug. By September 2015 scientific analysis had shown that the remains were of the Scottish soldiers captured at the Battle of Dunbar in September 1650 who had been imprisoned in Durham cathedral.

In my book 'Captured by Cromwell in Caledonia' I tell the story of my ancestor who was incarcerated in the cathedral, but survived.

I am very grateful to Sophie and Richard for the time that they spent with me, especially the private tour of their excellent exhibition and the visit to the recent burial ground of the human remains.

It was very moving to stand in the cathedral and imagine what it must have been like for my ancestor to be imprisoned there.

ANOTHER MILESTONE ACHIEVED

I have just finished the first draft of my second book, such a great feeling. I was happy with the way it turned out. When I started I had only planned it in fairly broad terms. It is incredible how ideas can pop into your head once you start writing.

I would encourage anybody to have a go even if you dont know exactly how the story will turn out. It is a lot of fun seeing the story and characters develop.

The golden rule is 'Decide how many words you are going to write each day (500 in my case) and stick to it.' 

SPANISH CIVIL WAR

One thing that I have learnt from my writing is how much you can learn about history.

I knew very little about the Spanish Civil War before I started to write this section of the book which I finished this morning.

I was startled to discover that my story of Catalonian adventures stretched to 40 pages!

Here is an extract.

Peter and Eric are told that they must head for the front.

 

'After returning to the barracks at the end of their march, the newly assembled brigade were told that they must head to the battle front as soon as possible. They were issued with their remaining equipment by a team of women who seemed to materialize from nowhere. The women helped the rookie soldiers to roll their blankets and pack their kit-bags.

    They were asked to assemble in the barrack square which had been illuminated by torchlight as it was now getting dark. There was a hubbub of excitement in the air as Peter and Eric joined the massed ranks of militiamen who were all adorned with knapsacks on their backs and rolled blankets across their shoulders.

    They were asked to be silent so they could hear an address by a Republican commissar who stood beneath a huge red banner. He spoke in Catalan, so quickly that the two Englishmen struggled to follow what he was saying. His arm waving and general histrionics left them in no doubt as to the overall message, however.

    After the inspirational speech had drawn to a close they were marched to the railway station, taking a detour so that as many people as possible could see them. All along the route red and black flags were being fluttered by the crowds who were thronging the pavements, and others were waving enthusiastically from the windows of their houses.

    The militiamen travelled in the packed trains north-west towards the town of Barbastro where many of their fellow fighters, dressed in their shabby uniforms, were walking up and down the streets trying to keep warm. From there, Peter and Eric’s company were sent by lorry to Huesca, forty miles north-east of Saragossa, and a hundred and sixty miles inland from the coastal city of Barcelona. The small town had been captured by the anarchists after heavy fighting, and parts of it had been destroyed by shell-fire.

    Many of the houses that had survived the bombardment were pock marked with indentations from bullets fired during the street fighting that had taken place. The newly arrived militiamen now realised how close they were to the front line.

    From time to time fascist deserters were brought in. Many were not true Fascists, but conscripts who had been doing their military service at the time. They were only too keen to escape.

    After three days the rifles finally arrived. Peter recognised them from his days fighting the Boers almost forty years earlier. They were German Mausers, fairly new at the time, as they had been manufactured in 1896! He picked one up, only to discover that it was rusty, the bolt was stiff and the wooden barrel-guard was split. It was completely unfit for purpose.

    There was no time to dwell on the state of the rifles, however, as they were soon told that it was time to advance to the front line.

    Stray bullets cracked overhead as they made their way up the steep sides of one of the many hills that dotted the landscape. Struggling up the stony path, they looked down on huge ravines, before reaching the stunted shrubs and heathland on the small plateau at the top. From there they could see the front line which consisted of a chain of fortified posts perched on each hill-top.

    The position they were heading for, to relieve a company that had been there for more than three months, was a ragged barricade of sandbags over which a red flag could be seen fluttering in the breeze. When they eventually arrived there after scrambling up and down several more hills, they were greeted by the commander of the unit who had crawled out of his dug-out.

    Peter was immediately struck by the appearance of the exhausted militiamen who had all grown full beards during the long weeks out in the open. Their uniforms were caked with mud, and their boots were falling apart.

    On closer inspection they could see that the position was a semi-circular enclosure about fifty yards across, built up with a mixture of sandbags and rock. Behind the enclosure there were about fifty dug-outs which were gradually being evacuated by the soldiers ‘in situ’ once they saw their replacements arrive.

    In front of the sandbagged parapet there was a system of narrow trenches which were occupied by the men on sentry duty. When he saw these trenches, Peter was immediately reminded of his experiences during the Great War. He realised that little progress had been made in the almost twenty years that had elapsed since the end of that terrible conflict.

    A short distance from these trenches there was a string of barbed wire perched above another steep ravine. Beyond the ravine, they knew that the enemy were out there somewhere. They gazed into the distance looking for the Fascist fighters but they were nowhere to be seen.

    The new sentries were soon in position in the trenches and, once settled, they started firing at the unseen enemy. They were desperate to try out their ‘new’ rifles.

    A few minutes later Peter had the shock of his life as a bullet shot past his ear with a loud crack and buried itself in the rock behind him.

    ‘That has shaken me out of my complacency, even if they can’t be seen, they are definitely out there,’ he thought, as he dived for cover in the dug-out that would be his uncomfortable home for the foreseeable future.'