Saturday 24 September 2022

The week after The Week

It's all bit weird here, in this corner of the universe. The foundations have moved. The constant, the taken-for-granted, the always-there is no longer there. The new Elizabethan era of Queen Elizabeth II is just that, an era: complete, finished and consigned to the history books. 

And the unconscionable, the abomination of desolation, is here, front and centre, set up in the holy of holies of our national life. Perhaps it will go away if we bury our heads under the pillows, perhaps it won't. It won't, not for a while yet. And the carnage it wreaks will last for generations.

To cap it all, the equinox has passed. It is now Autumn, promising Winter.

In all this turbulence, a week has come and gone; a working week, more or less, and I have set out for myself a work plan for the autumn. This is a weekly writing schedule comprising six days for six novels and one day for review. This is the day for review. 

Six novels? Writing? Are you mad?

Probably.

Let me explain.

One novel is complete and published, if only by me on the blog here: Small Finds. (Not that that stops me from thinking of things I should change and things I should have done differently.) The job here is one of marketing and promotion. Ha! In practice, that means the odd post on Twitter.

Two more novels are already written. Their working titles are Theresa & Tom and Andrew Bridges. These two are (near) contemporary stories.

One of them, Theresa & Tom is in manuscript form in two large notebooks, so the job is to type it up into the old laptop in the writing hut. It is set in the final years of the twentieth century.

The other, Andrew Bridges, was written directly into the laptop so the job there is to read, review and edit. This story was written in real time during 2021 and early 2022.

The fourth and fifth novels are fragmentary and both derive from writing I did a decade or more ago. They are both historical and they are related to each other. They are, in effect, two parts of one story. This story is the history underlying the archaeology of Small Finds

In both cases it is a matter of finding extant material, piecing it together and reworking it into a sound narrative. Some of this material is in notebooks and some of it is in redundant computer files. The stories have had various titles over the years. For now, I'll call them Paul Aurelius and Septan. The action takes place at the beginning of the fifth century in Britain (Septan) and beyond (Paul Aurelius).

I spent an interesting time on Thursday, recovering text from archived, obsolete MS Word 7 files from 1998! To my delight, I discovered what amounts to half a novel already written (Septan). 

In the light of this discovery, this has been a Good Week.

And the sixth?

This is a glimmer in the mind, a mirage in the desert, a fantasy. It is a sequel to Small Finds

This idea would, if it does become something more substantial, pick up on a couple of the characters in that novel and follow them into the contemporary future. Small Finds is set in 2010. This follow up fast-forwards to now and, beyond now, to 2025 and ... well, I don't know yet where it ends up. 

The job here is to plan a narrative arc and I spent a happy hour Friday afternoon doing that. It's a rough schema. When it comes to the writing, it will change. But that's half the fun, isn't it?

It is, as a say, all a bit weird in this corner of the universe at the moment.




Friday 9 September 2022

Little teashop by the sea

Talking about genre

(which I was last time I was here)

I have unexpectedly discovered that I like books in the Little-teashop-by-the-sea genre

You know the sort of thing

I don't know what you call it

I call it Little teashop by the sea genre


I've been trying to break free from Crime and Murder Mystery and Thriller novels

I've had enough. Too much

I do not want to read another book with a dead body on the first page

There are rarely dead bodies in the Little teashop by the sea

More often there are interesting people

People who are alive. Living people

People living interesting lives

Friendly people

People with friends

Nice people

I want to read about nice people for a change


And, perhaps, I'm thinking now, this is the kind of book I want to write

If only I knew what genre it was

In some ways, Small Finds set out to be this kind of book

Little archaeological dig in the Cotswolds

That kind of book

Before a dead body turned up on the first page and ruined everything

Uninvited

Which I subsequently buried 

The page, that is, not the body


But then, I started thinking

They probably had dead bodies in Roman Britain, at a guess

So maybe, maybe it was not such a stretch

What if?

What if, the dead body on the first page were an echo ...

You know

And they did!

They found these bones between these houses

At this rescue dig they were working in the town at the new supermarket development

The Corn Hill development

In Ancester. Roman Antium

A young female

Inevitably


The hare was off and running and the dog followed

No matter how much I called and whistled, I could not get that dog back

What else could I do?

I ran with the hounds


So, hey!

So much for a (nice, quiet, friendly) Little Dig in the Cotswolds

Still. There are interesting people: nice, friendly people living interesting lives

It's all good, despite the body that's not on the first page

(And not in the teashop)

It's called Small Finds and you can read it here, on the blog 

(Check the tabs at the top of the page)



Sunday 28 August 2022

Genre

 This genre thing really bugs me.

I spend too much precious time and mental energy trying to crack exactly what genre my writing might fall into. I know genre is important for publishers and booksellers and librarians (I am, or have been, a librarian) so that they know what shelf to put the damn book on but, and it's a big but, it does not help me as a writer. It destroys my confidence and undermines my vocation.

The advice I received early on that, if it wasn't Romance it had to be Crime or, by extension, Thriller or Mystery, all but destroyed my first novel and I am left with the feeling that it is no more than a shadow of its former self - the former self being the novel it should have been, the novel I had imagined, the novel that wanted to be written. I feel robbed.

Children's picture books I get. Young Adult? I'm not sure I know where the boundaries are, at least at the upper end. When does YA become, you know, Romance or whatever? And then there is that catch-all Literary Fiction. Is what I write Literary Fiction? I would not want to claim such a distinction. Surely, it is a classification that can only be bestowed retrospectively by a readership or through the arcane labyrinths of Literary Criticism?

So what do I write? Looking around my local library, I cross off the shelf markings one by one: not Crime; not Saga; not Biography; not Large Print (well, who knows?). I write Life Stories. I write about people and how they deal with the circumstances in which they find themselves. I don't see a shelf mark that fits.

I'm left with the feeling that I am an outsider, that I don't fit in. That's ok. I guess I have always been an outsider. That is who I am so perhaps it is no surprise that my fiction defies categorization. It is what it is and it will be what it will be. And, no, there is not a body on the first page.

Oh! Wait a minute! 

There is a body on the first page. 

How did I miss that?


Wednesday 24 August 2022

The student dig

 An extract from the beginning of Chapter 2 of Small Finds:

It is Friday evening when the students begin to arrive: the first-years.

They pitch their tents in a semi-circle, facing inwards, like wagons drawn up in a corral, as if they were setting up camp in a hostile environment.

The beginning of the student dig. Everything's good

Everything's the way it should be

As long as he forgets about everything else, it will all be fine

This is what he enjoys most: being out on a dig with the students

There will be plenty here to discover ...

A late 4th century Roman villa in the Cotswolds. What's not to like?

Six weeks. Starting now

Small Finds, a novel about archaeology ... and everything else


Tuesday 23 August 2022

Small Finds - the beginning

Where did it all begin?

It began with Paulus Aurelius Sendico and his friends, and family, back in the 380's

That's AD 380

Specifically, it began with his nephew, Septan, but Septan was not yet born or even thought of in the 380s. Septan, his sister Helen and their friend Lydia were simply a dream conjured out of nowhere, an idea.

Septan and Helen led to their mother and their mother led to Paulus Aurelius Sendico and to his sudden departure from these shores and to his subsequent adventures in the world of the Late Antique

I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Although, in another sense, I am only now catching up with myself

That is how we got here, to the archaeolgical dig in a field just outside the village of Lynchcombe Sandicott, not far from the town of Ancester, Roman Antium, in the county of Gloucestershire in England, on the eastern fringes of the Cotswolds, in the year 2010 

That's AD 2010

2010 CE

It starts with a mess and gets messier and messier as the dig progresses

Monday 28th June 2010

You know what it’s like. Things are going along just fine and then someone pulls the rug out from under your life and everything starts falling in on top of you, like Sampson in the Philistine temple. That’s how it feels. Falling masonry.

When he arrived on site, it was like a scene from a film about Passchendaele: all mud, water and ruin. It put him in mind of the poets Edward Thomas and Wilfred Owen and of Vaughan Williams’ second symphony. 

It had been the wettest June on record. 

The story continues here:

Small Finds Chapter 1

Monday 22 August 2022

Sendico - novel #4

 I've been digging into the archives. 

I knew I had something somewhere but, could I find it? No. I dug away all day, went though every file, every box. Nothing. I was sure I had seen something, found something, a week or two back. 

Why couldn't I find it now?

The whole day wasted, I thought. I felt depressed. 

Then I had a brainwave. It was an inspiration. 

Perhaps. 

There was something underneath that pile of stuff on the trolley in the corner of the Hut. Could it possibly be ...? I lifted the weight off the trolley and yanked out the papers trapped underneath. 

Yes! Here it is!

The date on the papers was 2009. 

I had written, or perhaps dreamed, the best part of a novel set in the last years of the western Roman Empire, that period known to those who know as the Late Antique, peopled by Jerome, Augustine, Ambrose, the usurper Magnus Maximus and the emperors Theodosius, Valentinian and Honorius and Ellen of the Armies, Justinia, Marcellena, Paula, to name just a few. 

It was the year AD 385. It was all happening. 

A young man, rejected at home, joins an expeditionary force, absconds and travels the Mediterranean world in the company of those we now call great. His journey takes him via London to Trier, Milan, Rome, Jerusalem and, finally, Bethlehem.

It is the year AD 415 and he wants to go home.

Paulinus Aurelius Sendico; it is his story I want to finish next. 

This will be novel #4.

These printouts from 2009 are the starting point. There is more somewhere. I am sure there is more. I will go on looking in old notebooks and old computer files, always assuming that MS Word now will read the files from MS Word then ... I will look and I will find what I can and I will summon up my dreams from all those years ago. 

And I will write Sendico, novel #4.

It will take a while, a year maybe, maybe less. I have novels #2 and #3 waiting to be published. 

There is work to be done

Wednesday 17 August 2022

That was fun

 It was

I must do it again sometime

I have two more novels ready to go

Perhaps in the autumn, I'll let lose another one

For now, though, what did I learn?

I learnt that it is possible to blog a novel

I learnt that there is no limit to the number of pages you can have on Blogger but sometimes you do have to clear the cache or it won't let you add another tab or logout and log back in or restart the computer or something 

I learnt that blogging your novel concentrates the mind and helps you concentrate the story. Mostly, it went up as it was but there were some strategic edits, some deletions and some additional writing - usually, no more than half a page or at the most half a chapter

I learnt that blogging your novel helps you understand your story and the people in it. You begin to see more clearly what makes their lives tick

And I learnt that blogging your novel gives you closure

It's been twelve years and more I've lived with this story. I tried to do it as a dual timeline novel but it became too cumbersome and unwieldy so I concentrated on the contemporary story. I went to various writing workshops looking for advice and was told I had to have a body on the first page

"But, I'm writing a novel about archaeology!"

No. You have to have a body on the first page

It took me several years and several rewrites to extricate myself and the novel and my head from that experience. You can still see the ghosts of those years haunting the novel as it now is

And Broderick Arnot. It has taken me until now to really begin to understand Broderick but I think he has, at last, begun to come to life as a man

And that's another thing. It is a novel about a man. Elyssia Gadnall, among others, made a determined bid to take over the story and had to be put back in her place more than once, again and again ... and again. It is a novel about men and women. Staring into the past, as I've done for the past twelve or more years, you realise that this is what makes the human world go round

So, there it is: a novel blogged

I know self-publishing is the coward's way out but there is no way that I am ever, being the person that I am, going to hack all the razzmatazz of the publishing merry-go-round

I think it's a good novel. 

I think it stands up against published novels I read

I would like to think that you would agree

Thanks for (listening) reading

Monday 15 August 2022

The End

Here it is!

The end of a journey

The end of a novel

The end of this blogathon

Six weeks have gone by in a flash

The summer dig is done

Loss and love. Discovery and understanding

Have a cold beer. You deserve it

Chapter 52

Small Finds

The story is complete. Or has it just begun?

On the tab Ch 51 & 52 above

Go well

Sunday 14 August 2022

Sunday

After all the tumult of yesterday, I think we deserve something quiet

Time to reflect

Time to recollect

Time to think

On Sunday morning, the Arnot and Gadnall families go to church in the village

Elyssia is preaching

It's her first time

Complete with broken arm

You have to feel for the kid 

Small Finds

Chapter 51

Not quite the end, but almost

Saturday 13 August 2022

A long, long Saturday

The dig is over

But the story has not finished yet

There is a lot to sort out

It is a long, long Saturday

It's a 4 chapter Saturday!

Chapters 47-50 up now

Tabs Ch 45-47 and Ch 48-50

Small Finds, the novel 

We're almost there

Friday 12 August 2022

A two chapter Friday

It is all coming to a head

A press conference

The end of dig concert

Joshua Williams has a theory

Elyssia Gadnall listens

It is the last Friday

Small Finds - a novel

Chapters 45 & 46 on the tab

Some small finds are bigger than others

Some small finds are huge

Thursday 11 August 2022

Chapter 44. Thursday

It was getting close

The End

He just wanted it all to end

Now

He wanted to pack it all up, put it all away and go home

Especially, he did not want tomorrow

But tomorrow is another day

Today is Thursday 12th August 2010

(Don't argue)

Chapter 44 of my novel Small Finds is up on the tab now

Almost there

Almost

There

Almost

Wednesday 10 August 2022

Chapter 43. Wednesday

The days are slipping away

It is Wednesday

Only Thursday and Friday to go

Then the final tidying up and they can all go home

Small Finds

Chapter 43

On the tab now

Soon, the adventure will be complete

Tuesday 9 August 2022

Chapter 42

What day is it?

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday ...

The last week of the dig is becoming a blur

Too much going on

Not enough time

It is Tuesday

I think

Chapter 42 of my novel Small Finds

On the tab, up top

Monday 8 August 2022

Chapter 41

On the 'Part Four' tab

Scroll down to find:

Chapter 41

It is Monday

It is the last week

Everything must go

Clear the levels

Bag the samples

Label the bags

Photographs

Video

It is a matter of record

Small Finds



Sunday 7 August 2022

Part Four of Small Finds

Here beginneth Part Four of my novel Small Finds

But, you say, we are already in the last week of the dig

Is Part Four very short?

Time will tell

By the end of the week* all will become clear

We hope

*This week (2022) and that week (2010)

For now it is Sunday and there is a small miracle happening

But I'm not sure any one notices

But they do. They do

Chapters 39 and 40 

On the Part Four tab above

Thank you


Saturday 6 August 2022

Saturday morning

The last week of the dig

What has to be done, has to be done now

Ceramic building material

He does not need this

No

He does not need this

Chapter 38

Small Finds

On the tab ^^^^^

Friday 5 August 2022

The Penultimate Friday

What happened on this Friday all those years ago?

Murkier and murkier

It's not so much the archaeology

Although that could do with bit of clarification 

It's everything else!

It's enough to do his head in

Broderick Arnot:

dig director (under stress)

husband (under review) 

archaeology lecturer (under threat)

Small Finds Chapter 37 

up on the tab at the top of the page


Thursday 4 August 2022

Thursday

Only just over one week to go

And things are getting ... 

... getting ...

... Put it this way: 

Broderick Arnot is not getting much sleep

It's Thursday at the summer dig. Week Five

Joshua Williams has gone off piste again

Chapter 36

Small Finds

On the tab

Up there ^^^^^^^


Wednesday 3 August 2022

A long day

Wednesday was a long day

First there was Joshua 

Then there was Mariam

Then Elyssia

Then, well ..., him himself

Stories. Our lives are made of stories

Chapters 33-35

Small Finds

On the tab, now

(Three chapters! All in one day.)

Tuesday 2 August 2022

Tuesday 3rd August (2010)

Tuesday is a long day

Two chapters worth

Chapter 31 and 32; up on the tab

Broderick Arnot starts the day well

Alan Clearwater comes for a day

But Tuesday ends with another shock

Another revelation

Another impossibility 

Small Finds

Monday 1 August 2022

Elevator pitch: Romance

The Tweet I didn't post this morning:

-----------------------------------------------

“Romance at the student summer dig”

Love blossoms at the excavation of a Roman villa in the Cotswolds. Amidst the mayhem, policeman DS Luca Millifiore and post-grad archaeologist Rachel Feist, find one another

"Small Finds"

#Romance #JWPitchFestival

------------------------------------------

There is romance. Of course there is.

But there's so much more ...

It's not that simple

Saturday, Sunday, Monday

The weekend passes

Broderick drives back south to the Cotswolds and the dig

Sunday passes in a bit of a blur

Monday starts well. He keeps himself busy

Ceramics. The cool certainty of a pot in the hand

But it doesn't last

Chapter 30

Small Finds, a novel

Archaeology and stuff

on the tab: Ch 29, 30

Saturday 30 July 2022

Driving back to Durham

 Small Finds, Philip Colbourn, 2022

Small Finds, Chapter 29

On the tab

At the top of the page

Strictly speaking, this was Friday night

But Friday, in 2010, was the 30th July

Broderick drives Rachel up to Durham

They share history, memories

Mostly about Professor Patricia Hashay and stuff

At home, there is a letter waiting for him

Friday 29 July 2022

After Wednesday: Thursday, Friday

They make a visit to the hospital in Birmingham 

A roadside shrine

A lost coin leads them to Exeter

Magnus Maximus, emperor in Trier

Suspicious goings on at Undercrofts. Allegedly

Chapters 27 and 28

Small Finds

Thursday and Friday of Week Four at the summer dig

Under the 'Part Three' tab at the top of the page


Thursday 28 July 2022

Part Three

 We are halfway in our story 

And over halfway through the dig

It is Wednesday of Week Four

Small Finds

Some routine instruction

Interruption

Interpretation

Relaxation

Perturbation 

All in a day's work

Chapter 26

On the Part Three tab above, now

Wednesday 27 July 2022

Tuesday: Some Small Finds

Tuesday came and Joshua Williams came with it

He was working in Finds and he found something

Chapter 25

Something confusing

Small Finds

Then Elyssia Gadnall turned up like a bad penny

Chapter 25 of Small Finds, the archaeology novel 

Available now!

Click the Ch 22-25 tab at the top of the page and scroll down to the bottom

Small Finds

Chapter 25

Happy reading!

Tuesday 26 July 2022

Monday came and went

 Monday

I'm a bit late posting Chapter 24

Life in 2022 taking preference over (fictional) life in 2010

But here it is:

Monday. The fourth week of the dig

Broderick Arnot up against it

Small Finds, the archaeology novel

Read the latest instalment on the Ch 22-24 tab above

Sunday 24 July 2022

Sunday 25th July

 It's 2010

There is one day difference in the dates

Today is Sunday 24th July 2022

But then, in 2010, Sunday was 25th July 

Close, eh?

Small Finds, the novel

Things are not going too well, to be honest

Chapters 22 and 23 on the tab at the top


Saturday 23 July 2022

Saturday

Saturday started off subdued

There are tears

The family arrived

There is some archaeology to talk about later, at the pub

Chapter 21 on the tab now

Friday 22 July 2022

Friday, Friday

It's Friday!

It's a day off at the dig

But the world goes on turning, relentlessly 

Today is another two chapter day

Small Finds, the archaeology novel

Chapters 19 and 20 are up on the new tab - Ch 19,20 - above

Things are getting a bit, well, you know...


Thursday 21 July 2022

Thursday 22 July 2010

Thursday is a two-chapter day for #SmallFinds

Chapters 17 and 18 are now up and ready to read

Click on the Ch 16-18 tab above

Small Finds, the archaeology novel

Wednesday 20 July 2022

Wednesday. A trip to Lydney

It's been a while

Well, two or three days 

Not much happens on an archaeological dig for most of the time

Apart from the scrape of trowels, sweeping and shovelling

But today is different

Today they have trip to see the Lydney Roman temple by the Severn Estuary

Mortimer Wheeler was there

And his wife

Or should I say, Tessa Verney Wheeler and her husband

Chapter 16 has the story

As much of it as you are going to get, anyway

See the Ch 16- tab above for more

Sunday 17 July 2022

Sunday. Chapter Fifteen

He's a bit distracted

Then he is even more distracted

This is not going well

He has a dig to run

Small Finds, the archaeology novel

And other stuff

Quite a lot of other stuff

Chapter Fifteen, on the Part Two tab now

Saturday 16 July 2022

Chapter Fourteen

It's Saturday and Broderick Arnot and his wife, Alison, are back in Durham

Not for long

Long enough

Not long enough

All of the above

Chapter Fourteen of the novel Small Finds is now available!

Catch up with the story under the Part Two tab above

Enjoy!

Thursday 14 July 2022

Small Finds: Part Two

 So, we completed Part 1 (of 4) 

Now, at the start of Part Two, the Arnot family are still in Paris. 

It's Thursday.

On Friday they are back in London.

Chapter 13 of Small Finds is up on the Part Two tab above

Wednesday 13 July 2022

And that concludes Part One of the story

 Chapter 12 is up!

You'll find it in the usual place - under the Ch 10-12 tab

It is at the bottom of the page, following on from chapters ten and eleven


Monday 11 July 2022

Follow the story

Small Finds

I'm Phil Colbourn and Small Finds is a new archaeological novel by me.

You can follow the story as it unfolds by clicking on the tabs to the right of this Home tab.

I am also experimenting with republishing the chapters individually in this blog stream. When this is complete, you will be able to read the novel in reverse if you want to! 

(But why would you? I've no idea.)

Small Finds 

Archaeologists are human, too

Small Finds: Chapter One (full text)

  Small Finds

Part One

The Summer Dig

Chapter 1 

Monday 28th June 2010

You know what it’s like. Things are going along just fine and then someone pulls the rug out from under your life and everything starts falling in on top of you, like Sampson in the Philistine temple. That’s how it feels. Falling masonry.

When he arrived on site, it was like a scene from a film about Passchendaele: all mud, water and ruin. It put him in mind of the poets Edward Thomas and Wilfred Owen and of Vaughan Williams’ second symphony. 

It had been the wettest June on record. 

He had read somewhere that July was the wettest month of the year, beating December and January, but the weather seemed to have gone haywire and, nowadays, you never knew what you were going to get from one day to the next. It was climate change, or the government, or something. In light of the recent election result, he was inclined to believe it was the government. 

Dark, lumbering trucks reversed up to the gate and tipped their loads of stone in the gateway and Colin Squires, perched high in the cab of his JCB, spread the stone across the corner of the field that would serve as a car park and a place to put the temporary toilets. The loos would be arriving any day now. 

Colin’s JCB glowed yellow in the damp air as he parked the mechanical beast and jumped down to walk across to the shelter of the marquee. 

"You’ve got a problem here," Colin said. 

The problem was that the trench, covered at the end of last year’s dig, was now full of water. It looked like a giant paddling pool.

"The students will love it," Joe said.

That was what he was worrying about. How could he let fifty or sixty students loose in this battlefield? He needed a miracle. 

He got his miracle. 

The next day, the rain stopped, the grass dried out and the site hut and the marquee, and everything else, dripped quietly waiting for students to arrive. 

For a day or two, or three, the place exists in an indeterminate state, like an abandoned city; like a ghost ship drifting on a formless sea. The emptiness of the place seems to emphasise that it is a temporary camp; the latest in a long line of occupation. 

The land remains, he thinks, but the people come and go. 

There is work to do if this place is going to be ready for the students when they arrive. His grandmother used to say: ‘Everything in its place and a place for everything’. That was his aim as he stood at the edge of the trench that Thursday morning. Broderick Arnot wanted to see everything in its place. He wanted to see everything located, measured and recorded. 

It's Thursday evening and Broderick is watching Joe Fitchitt operate the dumpy level. Joe has the instrument on the ordnance datum point they established last year. Knowing that one fixed point, they can measure the level of everything in the trench and its height above sea level. 

This skill, that of using a surveyor’s level, is one of the skills students will learn this summer. Broderick Arnot is looking forward to their arrival. He loves working with the students. They have so much life, so much energy; so much potential. 

It is one more day before they start to arrive.

“Up a bit. Back a bit. Right a bit.” 

Joe Fitchitt is yelling instructions to a young woman in the trench. She moves the vertical, red and white pole backwards and forwards until Joe is satisfied, then she hammers in a peg. They make a good team: Joe, the blond giant, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his face bronzed by the weather, and Mariam, petite and dark. Mariam Bandarachaka is of Bangladeshi descent, or perhaps Indian, or Pakistani, or something. He cannot remember exactly. 

He knows Mariam’s ancestors came from somewhere near Calcutta but she was born and brought up here, in Lynchcombe Sandicott, in Gloucestershire. In her day jobs, she works as a librarian at Ancester College and in the town library. 

Mariam Bandarachaka moves closer carrying a yellow plastic bucket with its white pegs, hammer, surveying tape and string, and the red and white pole. 

“How’s it going?” Broderick asks.

“Good,” she says. “We’ll have it straight by tonight.”

There is another yell from Joe.

“Sorry,” she says. “Have to go.” 

She waves at Joe and moves off to mark the next point of the grid.

A sudden voice at Broderick’s elbow makes him jump and he turns to find Sue Feenan standing next to him. She has a problem. 

“There’s no electricity in the office,” she says.

“Yes, there is.” 

“No, there effing isn’t.” 

“Yes, there is. It’s there,” Broderick says. “You just can’t see it.” 

He ducks. 

The generator has stopped and Robin Gadnall has gone home. Someone has to fix it. After a few attempts, Broderick gets it going and Sue does what she needs to do. By the time she has finished and leaves the office it is almost ten thirty. 

Broderick Arnot sits at the desk for a few moments longer. Here he is, he thinks. He is the director of the student summer dig for the School of Archaeology. He has mixed feelings about it, to be honest. Of course, this is where he likes to be, out in the field, on a dig with the students but it has meant cancelling the family holiday and, to add to his discomfort, today is Alison’s birthday.

He pulls the laptop towards him and types in a message: 

Thursday 2 July 2010. Dig HQ. Lynchcombe Sandicott. 

Hope you’ve had a good day. Happy birthday!

The students start arriving tomorrow. Everything’s ready but I’m knackered. 

Turning in now. Sleep well. Love you, Brodie

He clicks the button and his email shoots off round the globe, hopping from one satellite to another and back to planet Earth before landing, he hopes, in the computer in the corner of the living room at home in County Durham. He closes the computer and pushes it away, but he doesn’t leave. He stays where he is and lets the day seep away around him into the summer night. 

There is a newspaper lying on the desk and he picks it up and runs his eyes over the headlines but he is too tired to read it and he puts it back on the desk. He read it earlier. He knows what is in it. 

He unplugs the computer and puts it away in the drawer, locks the desk and pushes himself to his feet. He stretches and rolls his shoulders and goes out, turning off the light and closing the door. 

Outside, he shuts off the generator. 

Silence. 

Softly, it has started to rain.

 ----------------------------------------------------------


More

 More! More! I hear you say.


There will be more coming later. Honest.


It is still Monday, after all.


Stay tuned

Small Finds: Chapter Ten

The weekend goes by in a blur 


and then it's Monday 

and he's on a train heading north


Who is that stranger sitting opposite?

Uh-huh! Wait! He's coming over!


You can read Chapter Ten now. It's on the new tab above: Ch 10-12


Go for it

Sunday 10 July 2022

Small Finds: Chapter Nine

Friday was a long day

A two and a bit chapter day.

Eventually, it did come to an end.

Not satisfactorily but inevitably.

Saturday, the students are back but it's different sort of day.

More trouble.

Chapter Nine is up. (See the tab Ch 7-9 above)

Enjoy!



Small Finds: Chapters Seven & Eight

 Now up!

The next two chapters are up on the Ch 7-9 tab above.


Happy reading!



Thursday 7 July 2022

Small Finds: Chapter Six

 Chapter Six is up

On the tab above: Ch 4-6


Small Finds: Chapter Five

 Is it Thursday already?


On Thursday morning, Broderick Arnot crawled out of his tent and pushed himself to his feet. Thursday 8th July 2010 had dawned bright and breezy.


Small Finds chapter 5 is now up!

Find it on the Chapter Four + tab above

Or click here: CLICK HERE 

Happy reading!

Wednesday 6 July 2022

Sunday 3 July 2022

Small Finds: Chapter Three

It's Sunday.

This is where the students get set loose.

All three of the first three chapters - does that make sense? - are now up under the Part One tab above.

Up? Under? Above?

Where is this taking us?

#SmallFinds - a summer dig.

Or click here: CLICK HERE 


Saturday 2 July 2022

Small Finds: Chapter Two

 It's here!

The next instalment. 


It's the first Saturday at the dig. The students arrive.


Chapter 2 is attached to the tail of Chapter 1 on the Part One tab above

Enjoy!


Thursday 30 June 2022

Small Finds - Chapter One

 It's up!


The first instalment of my novel Small Finds

You can find it on the tab above or here:

Small Finds (Part One)

Small Finds - the blurb

 Small Finds

The archaeology of a life

Is it time to stop digging?

Life has never been better. 

He has a job he loves, a wife he loves and a family he loves. 

What went wrong? 

He is an archaeologist and he is running the summer dig for the university. He has a great team and there will be plenty of good things for the students to find in the excavation. Everything should be good. But events leave him depressed and unwittingly entangled in a criminal network, and ready to resign.

Until, miraculously, it is all explained by a song.

Wednesday 29 June 2022

Twelve years

I've just realised that if I publish Small Finds now, I can do it exactly twelve years after the events portrayed in the novel; i.e twelve years after I started writing it. 

That is such a good idea. 

I'll do it

Monday 27 June 2022

Publish and be damned

I'm seriously contemplating publishing a novel here on this web site.

Shall I?

I shall.

I'll publish Small Finds here in instalments  

Starting soon

THE OTHER SIDE OF EDEN

This is a fascinating book. 

  • It unpacks preconceptions about how we relate to the natural world and to each other. 
  • From knowing and sharing in hunter-gatherer societies, Hugh Brody has had to re-examine our cultural myths and he explores the links between agrarian culture and our expectations and behaviour. 

THE OTHER SIDE OF EDEN HUNTER-

GATHERERS, FARMERS AND THE SHAPING OF THE WORLD

HUGH BRODY

 
First published in the United Kingdom in 2001 
Faber and Faber Limited 
ISBN 0-571-20596-8


(Blog post transferred from Aeos Random Readings; 20/06/22)

Tuesday 1 February 2022

The Dawn of Everything

I've just finished reading The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber and David Wengrow. There is a lot to think about. The things that stick in my mind at the moment are the three basic freedoms that the two Davids derive from a study of societies at various times and in various places particularly, perhaps, the North American societies encountered by Europeans in the sixteenth / seventeenth centuries:

To walk away

To not obey (i.e. make your own choices and decisions)

To imagine new ways of doing things, in concert with other like-minded people

These three freedoms are underpinned by what you might call 'the reasonable expectation of care'

The two Davids ask the question "What went wrong?"

One of the things that went wrong was the subversion of 'the reasonable expectation of care' into something that might be called  'the divine right to be cared for'.

I need more time to think about this