charles barrow's writing

As reported in my last post, I am enduring a self-imposed book buying ban, while I take the opportunity to actually read some of the books I actually already own. It's been 38 days now since I last bought a book. It's been tough. I have been into a bookshop (looking for a calendar) and I've been into several charity shops (same) and I came out of all of them having not bought a book. Quite the victory for a book addict. But before you hand me a medal you should know that I have found a way to bend the rules of this challenge, my own rules. I did create a couple of caveats to this 'not buying books at the moment' challenge. It was that or get arrested for shoplifting a book from Waterstones in a moment of madness. I am in possession of a couple of book tokens at the moment, gifted to me a while back, and I reasoned that it wouldn't be breaking any rules if I acquired books using these vouchers. After all, someone else had parted with the money to buy them, and so

I watch a lot of Youtube videos, or more accurately, BookTube videos - BT being the corner of YT where people discuss books (naturally); what they own, what they've read, what they intend to read. It's full of reviews, recommendations, warnings (sometimes), encouragement, and interesting, fun people that I enjoy spending time with. It also has a broad timetable of monthly events that viewers can choose to join. I've spoken previously about the short story theme in September, and the Victorian literature in October or, so called, Victober, both of which I chose to take part in this year. The upcoming event for December is Remember December, during which viewers/readers are encouraged to re-read a book they once read and can't recall anything about. I have a long list of those. I'm not sure I'll take part in this event, other than incidentally, firstly because I want to get festive and read some Christmas stories in December, as I also like to get festive by watch

Colley Cibber, actor, playwright, poet. I'd never heard of him before I saw his head in a glass case in the National Portrait Gallery, in London. I've also never seen so lifelike a bust, but then I don't think I've ever seen one that's been painted in this way. The process has produced a work of genius, but I find the effect to be incredibly unsettling. Very appropriate for the halloween season. Photos are the author’s own

Cover That Sold Me The Book #42 So we've all been guilty of judging a book by its cover, both metaphorically and literally, haven't we? I try not to do the first, but hey I'm human. However I am definitely guilty of the second. I can pore over that table of books in Waterstones, the one with the new releases, laid flat on their backs, artfully designed covers glowing under bright lights, and lift dozens of them up for a closer inspection if the cover art appeals. I always spend less time browsing the A-Z shelves where I'm faced with rows and rows of spines, though I will head there if I'm after a specific title. It's the cover that will always attract me. Does that make me shallow, that I love all the pretty, shiny things? Anyway, the marketing works on me, so I guess I'm both shallow and susceptible.  Of course, pretty and shiny doesn't always guarantee a thumping good read. As with the metaphor, the contents don't always bear any relation to the pa

I like to stroll around my little patch of garden in the early morning, to see what has changed overnight. There is usually some development that brings a frisson of excitement, and a smile to my lips. This morning I notice that the Hollyhocks have fat flower buds forming, and the Hebe and the Lavender both have a flush of colour on their stems but are a couple of days away from the full pinks and mauves of summer flowering. Similarly, I like to take stock of the birds and wildlife I see as I head out of the garden on my morning walk, around the local streets and down to the seafront. A darting quick sparrow today, and a brace of squirrels - or perhaps they're only referred to as a brace when they've been bagged by a gamekeeper. A strutting magpie comes close to the bench where I sit in the shade for a while, out of the heat that is already building towards the midday furnace that's been forecast. One upside of the heat and sunshine is that it brings out the lizards to bask

I was very saddened to hear of the death of singer/songwriter Linda Lewis two days ago, on 3rd May. Two months ago, in February, I wrote a post which included details of the time I met her, and how much I enjoyed her music, and especially her album Hacienda View. You can read that post  here

So anyway, it was a really wet start to the day, and that is all the excuse I needed to stay inside and finish the book I was reading, Find Me by Andre Aciman. I don't do that as often as I'd like, sit and read all morning, but I'm glad that I did, and I decided to feel no guilt about it. The only downside is that I now have to choose another book to read, and I've decided on a re-read, so it's either going to be Howards End by E.M. Forster, or The History of Mr Polly by H.G. Wells. I've read both of these twice each before and I love them equally. I've been trying to decide between them all day, and I can't, so I think the best way to solve this crisis is to read the first line of each and let my gut decide on that evidence alone. I've only just noticed that both writers use two initials instead of a first name. Do I even know their first names? After I finished reading, I picked up a drawing (of fishes) that I had started a month, or more, ago and

I never considered myself a fan of Barbershop Quartet singing. All the straw boaters, waist coats and harmonising, moon, spoon, and June. Then recently I discovered Ringmasters. The only non-North American winners of the World Championship, which they won in 2012. They hail from Sweden. Here then, are four Swedes, singing in English, with French accents. The song is from Walt Disney's Beauty and the Beast. They are singing this for comedic effect, but that shouldn't disguise the fact that this is extraordinarily accomplished. They make it look easy. That is their super-power. If you've ever tried singing harmony with a few other people, you'll appreciate just how good this is. And if you haven't ever tried singing harmony with a few other people then, trust me, to achieve this wall of sound (without the benefit of music to support your voices, supply the pitch or the tempo at which to sing) is truly astounding. I return to this (and their other performances) regular

I go out walking daily, regardless of the weather. I walk by the sea, mostly, but do have a shorter more local walk, through the park, if the weather is especially inclement. I walk for exercise, for the fresh air, to clear my head, to give myself thinking time, creative energy, and to just 'be' in nature and monitor the seasonal changes that can easily be missed during a fast walk to the station, or a struggle back from the supermarket with an overladen bag. And while I walk I sing to myself, under my breath, sometimes more loudly if I've checked behind and know that no one else will hear me. Sometimes one song will lodge in my head for weeks and become the oft repeated soundtrack to my walks. Often that can be just a snatch of verse and the chorus of a song, stuck on repeat, which, after a while becomes annoying, as any song stuck on repeat would annoy, and I have to make a conscious effort to shift it. Mostly this can be achieved by simply replacing it with another song,

Please follow the link to Smashwords.com to download your free copy of The Stolen Days of John Mann. This book is the first part of the John Mann trilogy, All the Days of John Mann. You can choose to download the book in an epub, mobi for Kindle, or pdf format. I hope you enjoy it, and if you do then please consider leaving a review, because that would really help me out. Thank you.  https://www.smashwords.com/books

More than a week of January has passed already. It's usually such a long (seeming) month that it's a blessing that a quarter of it has passed before I really noticed. The weather has been continually wet since the new year began, and I've been feeling rather under par since Christmas, so what outdoor exercise I've managed to get between showers has been welcome but short lived. I have, however, very much enjoyed catching many signs of an emerging spring - emerald spears of the early daffodil, crocus and snowdrop. Songbirds singing to ward off trespassers in their territory, and nest building. Buds on the hydrangea. All of these things help to lift my spirits. My mental health has not been good recently, so I've actively been thinking about what does bring me joy, and what brings the dark clouds into my life. I'm making lists. It's difficult to find any consistency when it comes to self care, it has to be worked at. And life has a tendency to poke a stick in