Authors Electric

On the first day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me A large mast in a fir tree. On the second day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Two service texts, and a large mast in a fir tree. On the third day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Three whats-apps, two service texts, and a large mast in a fir tree. On the fourth day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Four calling mates, three whats-apps, two service texts, and a large mast in a fir tree, On the fifth day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Five ri-i-ng tones... On the sixth day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Six apps alerting... On the seventh day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Seven sites a-scrolling... On the eighth day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Eight friends a-liking... On the ninth day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Nine e-cards playing... On the tenth day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Ten orders pending... On the eleventh day of Christmas my smartphone sent to me Eleven s...

When I was recovering from the dreaded lurgy last year, about the only place I could breathe properly was in our local woods beside the stream. I could barely walk up the slightest gradient in town, and cycling was only possible very slowly on the flat. But I'd stagger as far as the woods on my bike, push it a short way off the path, and sit among the bluebells surrounded by green leaves and mossy tree trunks. Before I left, I would hug a tree in thanks for the comfort and healing they'd given me that day. Unintentionally, I was doing what now has an official name in Japan - Shinrin-yoku,  or "forest bathing" .  During lockdown, it seems many more people discovered the benefits of a woodland walk, and there is now scientific research to back up what we instinctively feel. Being among trees has been shown to lower blood pressure, slow the pulse rate, and help stabilise blood sugar. It can also boost self-esteem, reduce negative emotions, and benefit children with ADHD....

Because of all the endings mentioned in my January 2021  post here, I found myself wondering what to do next, having decided not to write anything in my very long mystery series at least until the current UK lockdown had finished, or around Easter, whichever comes first. I do have November's National Novel Writing Month novel draft all ready to edit, but I thought perhaps it would benefit from being left for a bit longer than usual. A path through the Black Wood of Rannoch Early in January I wrote a quick short story suggested by someone on Twitter, just to fill the gap, and then I looked around for something else to work on. I browsed through some previous efforts and remembered I had a whole novel lying around that I had written years ago, called 'The Tree Museum'. It had never quite fitted any genre but when I had sent it for a professional critique part of the advice that came back was that it might make a good murder mystery if only it had a murder and/or a mystery i...

There’s nothing like starting the new year with a new enthusiasm, interest, hobby, craze, obsession – whatever you care to call it. You may remember that my last month’s Authors Electric piece came from Vancouver, British Columbia, where I was having a wonderful stay with my daughter Em. Rather than generally continuing to rave about Vancouver this month – something I could very easily do – I will home in on a discovery I made on an earlier visit, which grabbed me even more tightly this time. Emily Carr. No, not my daughter Emily, though I sometimes wonder why so many of my favourite people have the name ‘Emily’. There’s Emily Bront ë , of course, and Emily Dickinson. My dear grandmother was called Emily, which is partly why my daughter has that name. And now a new Emily joins my list. Some of you may well know Emily Carr and her work better than I do, but for those who don’t, she was a British Columbian artist, born in Victoria, Vancouver Island, who worked in the first ha...

The view from my window: A squirrel feasts on mulberries. The back-alley view from where I sit right now would be uninspiring but for a large and living intruder. A sprawling canopied , out-of-place, forty-foot-tall, spreading wild mulberry— Morus rubra —plays constantly with the incoming light. As I compose this post, pausing and drifting off more often than I'd like, I note its serrated, heart-shaped leaves now bright summery green, on branches rich with dark red fruit, fluttering gently in the mid-afternoon breeze coming off the lake.  Brown specked, white-throated sparrows hop from twig to twig—this being their usual hour of appearance. A chubby, rust gray fox squirrel scampers impossibly along lacy branches, then freezes and wall eyes me through the open window, protected by a screen. Squirrels carry on that way, often within arm's reach, even when our hefty aging Maine Coon orange cat, Oliver, crouches on the windowsill to gaze upon the scene like feline real...

Susan Jane Smith           Are e-books “green”?   Are they the environmentally friendly way to go?           I have not heard of any research about this – have you?   I think it would be useful if an environmental specialist gave an opinion – do you know anyone who would be an appropriate person to ask about doing the research?           I live in the beautiful Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire and I am surrounded by trees including ancient woodland.   Any time I hear a chain saw my heart aches – I hate trees being killed – it just seems so wrong to me.   They are living creatures and many of them pre-date those of us alive today.           But, then you do also need to understand that I do hug trees – unashamedly!   Yes, I am proud to be a tree hugger.   They are mos...