Category: Creativity

Dec 9th

12/9/2013

www.123rf.com

According to the IT firm Logicalis, the average UK teenager owns six digital devices and posts pictures and information online.

With most using mobile gadgets, it may not be long before youngsters expect always-on connectivity as a right, the poll says. Some 28% of the 1,004 13- to 17-year-olds questioned feel ICT is key to their future career.

The poll showed that 84% of the teenagers polled own a smartphone, 78% a laptop and 51% a tablet device. The top digital devices are:

    Smartphone

    Television

    Laptop

    Games console

    MP3/iPod

    Digital camera

But what of the future? Maybe some of the newly emerging workforce can expect a job in IT, but that's now where production comes from. Some of the teenagers questioned will need to work with other parts of their body besides their fingers and brain. Will we have an even more highly segregated society between physical and office workers?

This is how I see the future in the first draft of a book I wrote last year called The Golden Casket. It's set in 2027 and gives the background of Tallulah McBride, whose diary entries feature at the beginning of each of the Higher Ground series. Note: The Handie is the digital device.

The secretary handed her a note. Tallulah grasped it with a shaking hand.

"I want you to gather information on these men," Badia said. "They're on the list to attend the same function as Prince Abjan. Print out everything you find."

At last. This task would interest her more than making coffee. Tallulah hurried to her desk and concentrated on her screen, fingers flashing over the keyboard, clicking on appropriate articles and saving them to file.

The outer door slid open. Tallulah glanced over. The prince strode in. Two attendants glanced around the room, nodded to Badia and withdrew.

Following the other woman's movements, Tallulah stood and bowed. Her head remained low until the swish of the door told her the prince had entered his office. She focused on her task again. The hours passed by. A deep voice inside the computer announced lunch break and she glanced over at Badia, who studied her Handie.

"You can take your break in the staff room on the lower floor if you like. Or you may prefer to wander around outside."

"The staff room sounds good," Tallulah said. "Are you--?

"Yes. I'll come along with you." Badia stood, covering her Handie with the sleeve of her dress. Swishing her hair back, she led the way to their rest room and picked up her satchel.

What do you predict for our future?

Dec 8th

12/8/2013

www.britishmuseum.org

In the news stories today, we're back to the old lure of gold. What makes us love it so? Mankind's attitude to gold is bizarre. Chemically, it is uninteresting in that it barely reacts with any other element. Yet, of all the 118 elements in the periodic table, gold is the one we humans have always tended to choose to use as currency.

The gold artifacts featured on my blog today are part of the treasure unearthed from the Sutton Hoo burial ship belonging to a 7th century British king and can be seen at the British Museum. I'll link part of my novel-writing to the British Museum at the end. All my books are based on the magical qualities of an ancient star moonstone ring set in pure gold. Caught by the lure of gold, my creativity explors other dimensions.

Gold is thought to derive from meteors. The biggest producers: China, Australia, US, and Russia.

One of the noble metals that do not oxidize under ordinary conditions, gold is used in jewelry, electronics, aerospace and medicine.

After analyzing all metals seeking suitability for currency, it turns out that the reason gold is precious is precisely that it is so chemically uninteresting. Gold's relative inertness means that after creating an elaborate golden jaguar, the artist or king could be confident that 1,000 years later it would be found in a museum display case, still gleaming and in pristine condition.

en.wikipedia.org

If we amassed every earring, every gold sovereign, the tiny traces gold in every computer chip, every pre-Columbian statuette, every wedding ring and melted it all down, it's guesstimated you'd be left with just one 20-metre cube, or thereabouts. But scarcity isn't the whole story. Gold has one other quality that makes it the best contender for currency in the periodic table. Gold is ... golden.

All the other metals in the periodic table are silvery-colored except for copper.
But copper corrodes, turning green when exposed to moist air. That makes gold very distinctive.

Here's a short excerpt from my co-written forth book in the Higher Ground futuristic series, Long Doom Calling. Cerridwen has just dived down under the murky waters to the British Museum and surfaced clutching treasure.

Dressed again, Cerridwen sat beside Trevly, the bag in front of her. To one side, Brunhild smeared some of Hasid's special salve over Boris's chafed chest.

Aron settled at Cerridwen's other side. “Tip it out.”

She glanced at him and smiled. “You do it.”

“Fine.” With trembling fingers—he had no idea why—Aron shook the contents out.

Sasha, already wearing several rings, gazed at the other pieces, then back at her hands.

Aron whistled. Bracelets. A ring. Some kind of head gear. Sasha snatched a necklace and ran her fingers over the gold.

“The ring,” Cerridwen whispered. She picked up the one with the blue stone and held it against the light before she slipped it on.

Despite his sudden apprehension, Aron smiled.

Dec 6th

12/6/2013

A major storm has hit northern Europe during the last two days, leaving at least three people dead, causing transport chaos and threatening the biggest tidal surge in decades.

Already, a lorry driver was killed when his vehicle was blown over in Scotland, while a man died when he was hit by a falling tree in England. Britain's Environment Agency said tidal surges could bring significant coastal flooding. The Thames Barrier was being closed to protect London. Thousands of households along vulnerable coasts have been evacuated as seawater floods coastal areas of eastern England and North Wales.

In Denmark, a woman died after a lorry turned over in high winds. The Oeresund road and rail bridge between Sweden and Denmark - which links the Danish capital Copenhagen with the Swedish city of Malmo and features in the hit television series The Bridge - was due to close from 1500 GMT.

In the low-lying Netherlands, the Eastern Scheldt storm surge barrier has been closed off for the first time in six years. Dutch authorities said they had issued the highest possible flood warning for four areas in the north and north-west of the country.

In Germany, the port of Hamburg is bracing for a direct hit and a massive tidal surge. There are fears it could be as powerful as the flood that killed more than 300 people in the city in 1962.

The news of these very real events is terrifying to those people who live close by. Fortunately, I live safe inland on higher ground. The weather's changes have caused meteorologists worry for some time now. Environmentalists around the world have predicted that the scenario will worsen unless mankind changes their way. Unfortunately, this is a slow process during which world representatives work to hash out sanctions.

As an author of fiction, I feel somewhat burdened, embroiled and culpable, not only with the title of my second book, Tidal Surge, which is set in the present day, but by publishing the Higher Ground Series. The futuristic novels, set after the Great Flood, follow the lives of a group of characters. Mankind has been swept backwards to live a more-or-less primitive life with only memories, broken articles poking above the soil, and ruined cities hinting at the past. Four books tell of adventure--Wind Over Troubles Waters, Knights in Dark Leather, Golden Submarine, and Long Doom Calling. You can see the covers on the sidebar and click on them to link to the books. The heroine guides a group of followers from Saint Eyes (St. Ives) to Long Doom (London) to find an ancient ring in the hope of setting Britland on the right track.

I believe in a Universal Consciousness into which highly-tuned people can gain access. This explains why inventors, artists and scientists can discover the same idea simultaneously. Perhaps my writing partner and I captured thoughts about the future of mankind. I hope we're wrong.

Nov 30th

11/30/2013

I don't feel well today. A not-so-common cold has invaded my body with a headache, runny nose, coughs--you know the symptoms.

So, unable to think straight, I'm sharing the beginning of Still Rock Water, which you can see on the right sidebar.

Chapter One

My God, I'm flying. Or hallucinating. Blank it out. Close your eyes.

I'm so scared. My fingers reach out for reassurance. Nothing. Since emerging from the tunnel, my senses are spinning and the bed no longer supports my body. Wait. Tunnel. Death's a possibility. Can't be. I wasn't sick. Perhaps I died in my sleep. If I keep my eyes shut, maybe I'll wake up. Counting doesn't work. How long should I wait? Five minutes, an hour? I can't see the clock anyway, so how would I know? Impatient, I wriggle, or try. I can't feel my legs.

I ease my eyes open. White fluffy mist. At least I'm not surrounded by a casket. I reach out but don't make contact with anything solid. I won't close my eyes again. Now I'm curious. Right, I'll look down. I panic at the absence of anything beneath me. No bodily reactions. Hold it together. I can do this. At last, I focus through the blur below. It's as if I'm looking through a telescope with a haze around the edges.

An old car sits sideways behind another, with traffic driving around them on a motorway.

If this is heaven, it's very much like earth. Then, I'm falling—diving. I struggle, but a powerful force pulls me right through the roof where I land without feeling. Inside the car, I'm as helpless as I am in real life. It's scary. I don't want to be manipulated like this. Get me out of here.

Thick hands grip the steering wheel. A diver's watch clamps a hairy wrist. Cars slow outside the window and a woman peers into my car.

Where are the almond-shaped fingernails I've always taken care of? Overwhelmed by shock, rising panic and rapid heartbeat, I'm sitting in the driver's seat of a jalopy. A faint sound of thunder echoes inside my head. The taste of iron and smell of oil sicken me. I struggle, but the body doesn't move. Wait. Thoughts slam into me.

'Accident. Think, man, think'. Rigid with shock, I—we centre on a digital clock. Nine-zero-zero. Morning.

I've got to work this out. I'm me, but I'm also part of a strange man. His name is David. Multiple personalities? I've heard of that happening. I've suffered enough distress to cause the effect. Although I can't move, perhaps I can wish myself away. I concentrate, but it does no good. All David's panicked thoughts and body reactions pump through me.

He twists to the back seat. Worry rises, gripping his heart so hard he finds it hard to breathe. His four-year-old son Tim remains upright strapped into a child-seat—eyes closed with his head slumped forward. David leans back and touches Tim's shoulder, then checks for the faint pulse under his ear. He grasps the tiny wrist, and looks for any movement under the delicate eyes.

I'm staggered. Something tells me I should help him, help them both, but I don't know how. David's the one with the body. I'll just watch and wait. At some point I might escape.

With shaky hands, he reaches for his mobile phone and dials the emergency number. Following instructions from the voice in his ear, he climbs over to sit beside his son. The boy's head must not be moved in case of injury, and David must breathe for Tim until an ambulance arrives.

With the reassuring operator's voice crackling around my mind, I'm feeling everything David does, panic, worry and confusion. Maybe I can influence him rather than let his emotion drain me. With something like a heart-felt prayer, I will the child to breathe—assist the father to remain calm and help his son.

The child's head remains slumped forward, and David mustn't move him. With great care, he blows from the front but he can't reach the boy's mouth. A strong sense tells me whatever I do will be of some help. But what if, by participating, I'm trapped here forever without a body of my own, living through someone else's consciousness?

Terror squeezes David's heart. “I love you, son. Don't die.” He groans and his eyes blur. The operator tries to reassure him.

It's no use avoiding the situation any longer. It's as real to me now as my own life. I can't allow the child to slip away before help arrives. I urge David forward to lift the child's lip from the side. With empathy rising in me like a song, I assist with the breath of life.

By twisting his head, David's tender breath through the side of Tim's mouth brings results. When the blue eyelids flutter, David's heartbeat quickens in relief. After another breath, Tim opens his eyes and coughs. David murmurs, “Hello, little man. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Dad,” Tim blinks and looks around. “I heard your voice through a long sort of tunnel. It was so bright ... and I saw a happy fairy.”

Compassion swells my heart and lifts me away. I'm floating free.

* * * *

Liliha opened her eyes in her own bed again. In the dark, her fingers slid over the ridges on her patchwork quilt.

Nov 28th

11/28/2013

io9.com

Stephen Hawking spoke recently at the Science Museum in London to reveal his disappointment after the God Particle, otherwise known as the Higgs Boson, was discovered. The famed physicist explained that the find made physics less interesting. During his speech, he also claimed that humans only have 1,000 years left on Earth.

That's the bit that fascinates me—the future. You'll see four futuristic novels on my sidebar, where my writing partner and I take on the perspectives of survivors after the Great Flood in Britland. Wind Over Troubled Waters is the first.

Stephen Hawking publicly revealed his thoughts on the landmark discovery of the God Particle—the particle scientists say is responsible for mass in the standard model of physics.

Hawking also gave his prediction for the end of the world. "I don't think we will survive another thousand years without escaping beyond our fragile planet. I therefore want to encourage public interest in space," he said.

Stephen Hawking was born on Jan 8th, 1942, as was I. That makes me feel very close to him. I imagine us on a cloud waiting for the moment of our birth, discussing what we'd do with our lives. I'm so proud of what he's achieved—although I don't understand half of what he's theorized about. But back to the subject.

Higgs boson essentially holds the universe together. It gives particles mass, which allows them to bind together and form things, like stars and planets and my home and yours.

blob.zap2it.com

More broadly, countless Higgs boson particles make up an invisible force throughout the universe called a Higgs field. Without it, the universe as we know it could not exist and I wouldn't be able to share stories from my imagination in the form of books.

To make the particle easier to understand, the Chicago Tribute published an article in 2012. They spoke to David Miller, a professor of physics at Purdue University and part of the multinational team of scientists on the Higgs project.
He said he understands the subject's complexity but believes people can at least appreciate the importance — and power — of understanding the world around us.

"We're the only species that can ask the question, 'Why?' and also has the tools to answer it," Miller said. "Any person can go out at night and look at the stars in the sky and wonder what place we have in the universe. We're a tiny speck, but it appears that from our little planet we can not only understand our whole universe, we can understand its evolution from the big bang."

The human brain is astounding, as is the whole creation. I'd like to believe we are all part of the Creator.

Nov 27th

11/27/2013

www.bbc.co.uk

Sony has filed a patent application for SmartWig, as firms jostle for the lead in the wearable technology sector. The SmartWig can be worn over natural hair, and will be able to process data and communicate wirelessly with other external devices. The wig could be made from horse hair, human hair, wool, feathers, yak hair, buffalo hair or any kind of synthetic material. The technically intelligent device has the potential to become a trend and a fashion statement.

The communication interface and sensors placed in the wig are at least partly covered by parts of the wig in order to be hidden from sight during use. This significantly increases user comfort and improves the handling of the wearable computing device.

readwrite.com

According to the filing, the SmartWig can help navigate roads, collect information such as blood pressure, and help blind people navigate roads. A small video camera or a sensor on the wig could help to provide the position and the location of the wearer.

Google with its smartwatch Google Glass and Samsung with GALAXY Gear are among other firms that have launched wearable gadgets, which are predicted to be one of the big areas of growth over the next two years. Both Wearable Devices to Enhance the Freedom of Mobile Communications.

www.cultofandroid.com

Android device developers around the world are planning to incorporate new Android KitKat technology into wearable devices and seize their share of this lucrative new market. Market researchers predict the global wearable device market will hit 125 million units sold by the year 2017. Smart watches, smart glasses, and fitness bands will be the biggest sellers in wearable computing over the next five years. Brace yourself for the coming wave of smart watches and headwear.

Samsung

From a wristband that replaces passwords to a device that helps you read on the treadmill, these wearable tech gadgets break new ground.

I've written a first draft of a novel set in 2027, in which I predicted what society would be using in 15 years. But technology is progressing so fast. Whatever I come up with is already hovering on the sidelines.

Who could afford these devices? Once again, new technology separates the haves from the have nots.

Nov 25th

11/25/2013

www.scandanavian-hiking.com

I'm in pain today. My agony isn't something that a pill would fix. It's caused by accumulated operations and time, one compacting on the other until there's nothing left of what should have been a beautiful, but aging, body.

I wonder how life treated older people from the past. Perhaps allowing nature to take its course would be better than this lingering half-life. My mind's still active, so I won't explore that avenue any further. At least I can entertain myself by writing. And I can luxuriate in my husband's company, knowing that very few partners are still together in their seventies.

A crackling cave fire sending out fingers of warmth sounds appealing. Just sit in shelter and allow others to find the food. I could pound grain and watch the children in their absence rather than be a burden to the others of my group. But, is this cozy picture one of reality?

www.theguardian.co.uk

Research presented to the Royal Society in London, shows a group of Neanderthals killed and ate their fellow ancient humans, including young children. Using modern forensics techniques, including DNA analysis, the researchers found that 12 Neanderthals, all from the same family, had been eaten by their peers. Remains, discovered at the El Sidrón cave system, near Asturias, in north western Spain, included the bones of three female and three male adults, three teenage boys and three children aged between two and nine-years-old.
According to the findings, the people were eaten raw during one sitting.

Did they run out of game to hunt? Where was their cozy fire? Maybe they were in a hurry. The most astounding thing is that modern man's moral code has changed. On the whole. Discounting murderers.

But, I'm happy with my life. I love what I do—love sharing my stories with you. During no other time on earth, has one isolated woman been able to contact so many other people.

And now, a story. Here's a short excerpt from Knights in Dark Leather, my co-written post-apocalyptic novel, which is the second in line from the Higher Ground Series shown on the right sidebar.

Chapter Forty-Two

Cerridwen opened her eyes and felt stronger. Time to face her fear. The best way to handle her capture might be to try to fit in until a chance to leave arose. Smoke and steam from the cooking pot rose into the central shaft of the underground room. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot and walked towards the fire. "Can I help you with something, Tina?" she asked the old woman with speckled white skin.

"Not today, dear. It's all taken care of. I've made a nice pot of stew vegetables with some roots that Ginny brought back yesterday."

"Smells good." A rasping croak attracted Cerridwen's attention. She swung around. A black bird perched on a tree branch stuck into the ground. "Oh, who are you?"

The crow opened its beak. "Crawk."

Tina laughed. "That's our pet, Fortuna. She broke her wing a year ago. The men wanted to twist her neck and put her out of her misery. But I couldn't let them. She can't fly, but she keeps me company."

"Crawk!" Fortuna hopped from the perch.

"Oh," Tina said. "She doesn't do that very often."

Fortuna waddled towards the centre of the room. Cerridwen squatted and called, but the bird just gave her a quick sideways glance and moved on, glancing up every now and again.

"Anyway," Tina continued. "Ever since she recovered, we've prospered. The earth provides more nourishment for us, and animals are much easier to catch. Fortuna is our good luck."

One for sorrow. Cerridwen had heard a rhyme about black birds once, probably during one of her vivid dreams. "She's beautiful. And what a pity she can't fly anymore."

Nov 21st

11/21/2013

Two news items that make me feel small in the grand scheme today.

The first is about how mankind evolved and moved around our planet. DNA from a 4 year-old Syberian boy who died in south-central Siberia 24,000 years ago, link him to the origins of Native Americans, whose ancestors crossed from Siberia into the New World during the last Ice Age. Eske Willerslev from the University of Copenhagen said native Americans are composed of the meeting of two populations - an East Asian group and these Mal'ta west Eurasian populations.

news.bbc.co.uk

The burial of an Upper Palaeolithic Siberian boy was discovered along with numerous artifacts, one of which was a Venus figurine, in the 1920s by Russian archaeologists near the village of Mal'ta, along the Belaya river. Apparently, these Venus figurines are found all the way west of this area into Europe.

Dr Willerslev and a colleague obtained a sample from the boy's arm bone, extracted DNA and compared it with that of present-day populations. "When we sequenced this genome, something strange appeared," he explained. "Parts of the genome you find today in western Eurasians, other parts of the genome you find today in Native Americans - and are unique today to Native Americans."

The most puzzling part was the genones showed no link with the East Asian populations such as the Chinese, Japanese or Koreans.

news.bbc.co.uk

The other story is about the planet Mars. Scientists believe a rock discovered in the Sahara Desert is the oldest Martian meteorite ever found on Earth. New tests indicate the rock dates to 4.4 billion years ago. The dark and glossy meteorite, nicknamed Black Beauty, would have formed when the Red Planet was in its infancy. It would have been created during a turbulent period of Martian history, when volcanoes were erupting all over the surface.

All that history about the formation of planets is hard to take in. Earth is such a tiny part of the cosmos. Here on our world, life has evolved to make the human race the most powerful of all the species. In charge of the day-to-day running, eliminating animals and insects we don't consider important, clearing forests, using rivers and seas for our dumping grounds, and, in our greed, using the land for our own purpose without considering other life forms that inhabit the earth with us. What have we done?

Excerpt from Golden Submarine - (on the sidebar)

March 25, 2032

I need to finish my recordings today. Tomorrow may be too late.

I dozed fitfully through the lapping of flood water outside after watching the news last night. First, meteor showers hit various parts of the world. Very quickly the weather changed. Volcanoes erupted in California, Australia, and the European continent. Heat killed people in Russia. Snow covered the tropics and people froze to death. Then ice melted after more eruptions in Iceland. After three days of reporting catastrophes, the radio and television channels have shut down for evacuation.

The water is flowing under the door and rising under my feet. I need to seal my records and carry through with my plans. I've lost touch with all my family and friends. If only I could see my mother one more time. Did I tell her I loved her enough? What is she going through right now? I don't know if I can carry on through this sorrow, but I must. If someone finds this record it might help people in the future to know what happened.

But could they avoid making the same mistakes?

Nov 19th

11/19/2013

Esther Rantzen, a mature television presenter, has set up a helpline for lonely pensioners. And with Christmas approaching, Miss Rantzen is only too aware that this is the loneliest time for some of the UK’s 10 million people now over 65. With this in mind she is rolling out The Silver Line, a 24-hour helpline service aimed at elderly people who are struggling to cope with loneliness, nationally on Monday November 25. Having successfully set up the ChildLine telephone service, for worried children, Miss Rantzen knew providing a similar service for the elderly would prove just as helpful.

But it's not just at Christmastime that elderly people feel a sense of loss. All year round, many people struggle daily to find some purpose in their lives, especially those without close family ties. The Silver Line has been running for a year, but now the service is to be set up nationwide.

Talking about her decision to set up the service she said in a new interview with the Radio Times: ‘Recently I received a letter from Ellen, clearly a clever woman who has brought up a family and held a responsible job, and yet who feels that in her old age “my days are pointless and I’m a waste of space”.

‘Reading it, I felt a surge of anger. Something must be done to assure our older population that they are valued. We must reach out to them, link them back into their communities, and convince them that older people are a resource, a national treasure. There must be no sell-by date, no moment when older people become rubbish to be discarded, thrown away. Loneliness is, according to the Department of Health, as dangerous physically as smoking or obesity. Mentally and emotionally, it is utterly destructive.

‘This is the generation that does not readily ask for help. They don’t want to be a burden. Loneliness is a creeping enemy, it isolates, erodes confidence, until it becomes more and more difficult to step outside the front door.’

Each one of us had a mother and a father. If they were good to us, we know how precious they are—how irreplaceable. My parents lived to their mid. 80s and I'd abandoned them in Australia when I left for England. My siblings took good care of them, and I wrote on a regular basis. I'm forever grateful that I took a trip back to see them one last time before they died.

But, now I'm facing a time of uncertainty in my later years. Separated from family and the grandchildren I never had a chance to know, I'm redundant. Despite living with the disability of not being able to walk without pain, I write, which gives me a sense of fulfillment. You'll see my published books on the sidebar. I've vowed to never have another operation—they go wrong. Besides that, what is the point at my age? I'm not a working member of society. I won't bother a busy doctor with my disturbing weakness. My husband takes care of me—at the moment. I'd rather not face what will happen in the future if he should be struck down.

Bravo to Esther Rantzen for setting up this Silver Line for all those people who feel alone and just need to talk to someone. I don't know what it's like in your country, but I hope you appreciate all the knowledge that an older person can share, given encouragement.

Nov 18th

11/18/2013

Doris Lessing, the Nobel Prize-winning author has died aged 94.

At the age of 30, she began writing for a profession, although her debut novel The Grass is Singing was not published until 1950. She made her breakthrough with The Golden Notebook in 1962.

Born in 1919, Doris Lessing's best-known works include The Golden Notebook, Memoirs of a Survivor and The Summer Before the Dark.

The Swedish Academy said the Golden Notebook was seen as "a pioneering work" that "belongs to the handful of books that informed the 20th Century view of the male-female relationship". On winning the Nobel Prize, the Swedish Academy described Lessing as an "epicist of the female experience, who with skepticism, fire and visionary power has subjected a divided civilization to scrutiny".

The content of her other novels ranged from semi-autobiographical African experiences to social and political struggle, psychological thrillers and science fiction. Harper Collins published her last novel, Mara and Dann, in 1999, which makes her 80 years old at the time.

She became the oldest winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature when in 2007 she won the award for her life's work aged 88.

The figures add up to fifty years of writing, in itself, a remarkable feat. I made a late start so I'll never achieve a similar target. Nor will I reach such heights of acclaim. My first book, Still Rock Water, on the sidebar at the right, begins with the relationship between a domineering man and woman who wants to please, who believes that everything she does will influence someone for the better and that a vow should never be broken. Yet, fete separates her from all she holds dear.

Writing runs in my family. Random Romance, a branch of Random House, will publish my sister, Virginia Taylor's first novel, available next month.: Dr. No Commitment. Virginia is the clever one of three sisters. She's charming, witty and sensible, whereas I acted the role of nonconformist. Virginia worked toward acquiring an agent, who submitted her work to various publishers. At the same time, Virginia received acclaim from many writing competitions. But, if we were all the same, it would be a dull world.

Gone are the days when someone could be described like Doris Lessing as 'an uninhibited and outspoken novelist who shattered convention, embarking on dizzying and at times stultifying literary talent.' Rest in peace, sister in spirit.

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Author

Francene Stanley, author of many published novels. If you like my writing, why not consider purchasing one of my books? You'll see them on the sidebar below.
Born in Australia, I moved to Britain half way through my long life.