Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
The much celebrated English Poet Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809 – 1892), who was Poet Laurette during much of Queen Victoria’s reign.
Last month I used the wonderful Rachel from Rachel’s Random Resources, who specialises in promoting writers by highlighting their work to literary bloggers. I wanted to thank all the reviewers for their time and effort in reading and their thoughts on my work. I would totally recommend all their websites too.
Alfred Joseph was a nice man. The type of man who would lend you his umbrella even if it meant he got sodden wet. The type of guy that would drive miles out of his way to make sure his friends got back ok. Even strangers sometimes. The type who would always bring far more than he needed to when invited to a party, but wouldn’t be annoyed if guests didn’t bring anything when he hosted.
Indeed, he was a legend in the small town for his kindness and generosity. When little Bobby Firman broke his leg and missed out on his trip to Disneyland, Alfred was the one who set up a fundraiser and gave generously himself to make sure Bobby could go when his leg was better. When Alfred’s competitor for the Best Homemade Lemonade was disqualified through an overzealous technicality, Alfred made sure she was reinstated, even though it meant he lost out on the prize. When the town was voted among the least desirable, Alfred used it as motivation to help change its whole perception. He worked harder than anyone cleaning up the parks, scrubbing off graffiti and helping to improve dilapidated buildings. And smiled his way throughout.
People would ask for his advice all the time and he would never mind, even when he was out shopping or in a hurry. He made so much time for everyone that people often joked that he must have more hours in the day than everybody else. It was that same humour that led people to comment that the town’s most popular attraction wasn’t the majestic 40-foot arch by the town hall, but rather the short, bespectacled and much-loved Mr Joseph. Which made the fact he wanted to kill his wife all the more surprising…
That’s the opening to my short story “Motive, Murder, Method” from my third book Always Never, Rarely Sometimes. I wanted to thank those of you who had got a copy so far and to let you know that my website http://www.alexanderraphaelwriter.com/ with all the details has now been updated. I hope you guys are all well.
I have great news for you all. My new book is out. It’s a collection of short stories called Always Never, Rarely Sometimes and I’m so happy to be able to tell you all about it. Like with Illusions, Delusions, there are seven stories but this time the focus is on more traditional storytelling with a slight twist.
Read about a regular boy named Harry Potter whose life changes overnight when the literary character becomes a phenomenon. Or about a middle aged lady who goes for quiet coffee and gets more than she bargained for when she spots a group of four friends. Not forgetting the story about an unhappy child’s Christmas being changed thanks to a very surprising encounter. And there’s plenty more 😀
“Between life and death there is a library, and within that library, the shelves go on forever. Every book provides a chance to try another life you could have lived. To see how things would be if you had made other choices… Would you have done anything different, if you had the chance to undo your regrets?”
Written by Matt Haig, The Midnight Library (2020) tells of a magical library where Nora Seed is able to see out different versions of her life had she made different decisions.
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadows the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference.The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying, so they kept watch on him.
The opening lines of “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” by American writer Ernest Hemingway (1899 – 1961), from his collection of stories Winner Takes Nothing (1933). It’s still my favourite short story of his. I’m a big fan of Hemingway and have quoted him on the blog before, on a post about my favourite short story writersand on The Old Man and the Sea.
As said by Howard Hogarth in children’s classic The Iron Man (1968) by British Poet Laurette Ted Hughes. Known as The Iron Giant in the United States (along with the wonderful film based on the book), it tells of a giant “metal man” who appears from out of nowhere and eats all the metal before being efriended by a young boy.
I haven’t been doing much reading as I’ve been busy writing. But if I was in one of these liteart sanctuaries, that would definitely change! Here are eight of the world’s most beautiful libraries from all around the world. Do you have a favourite?