The Scriptorium

The last throes of Jack Frost

2012-02-06T00:11:00.002Z

The start of February brings with it the half-way point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, where the first stirrings of life begin to show themselves - buds on the trees, snowdrops in the garden, that sort of thing. If you're a Christian, you probably refer to this time as Candlemas, or St Brigid's Day. If you're of the Pagan persuasion, it's Imbolc.

Now, I have observed this turning point for a number of years, but had only recently heard about the Marsden Imbolc Fire Festival. This is a celebration which has been growing in stature since it was established 20 years ago, and now draws in folklorists, pagans and other curious types from all over the country. I fit a number of those descriptions and so have been eager to head over the Pennines to see what all the fuss is about.

Last year I must admit to chickening out, due to the appalling rain that had been forecast. Shamed by this failure, this time around I expressed the intention that, even if the weather turned out to be awful, I would still turn out. That was several weeks ago, and before the snows of the weekend just past were even a glint in the weatherman's eye. As this year's festival drew nearer and the band of snow approached the country I began to question the wisdom of my earlier bravado, but the word had been spoken. To Marsden I would go, whatever the weather held in store...

The snow started to fall late on Saturday morning, around eight hours before the start of the festival. I had originally planned to drive into Manchester and to catch a train up into the hills, but the price and logistics of parking in the city centre and the uncertainty of the trains in bad weather meant the best option was to try to get there by car. By mid afternoon the snow was heavier, and so I packed a shovel in the boot; filled the car with food, water and warm things; and set off.

To get to Marsden you need to head up into the Pennines. I left the M62 at Milnrow and headed towards Newhey. There were very few cars on the road and the conditions were poor; the snow was steady, the road slushy and a layer of ice was forming in the tyre-tracks left by previous motorists. At Ogden Reservoir I pressed the button which turns my car into a 4WD, questioned the sanity of my expedition, and started up the long climb. I reached Denshaw without any problems, but as I progressed towards Diggle the road became slippier and I half-expected to see the flashing signs at the foot of the climb to Standedge telling me to go no further.

The climb over to Marsden took a long time, and it was only at the top that I realised that perhaps I was going to get there in one piece. At the very crest, where the Pennine Way crosses the A62, what should come steaming over the brow, lights blazing merrily, but the 184 bus from Huddersfield to Manchester. A double decker, to be precise. The driver and his passengers looked happy enough, so conditions couldn't be that bad over the top!

I made it to Marsden with ten minutes to spare. As I edged along untreated roads towards the station I could hear the loud beating of drums, and upon finding the massive car park almost empty I began to wonder just how many hardy souls were going to brave the cold of such a wintry evening. I needn't have worried; even though the snow was falling quite heavily by this stage, there were still a few hundred people, wrapped up tightly, lanterns in hand, following the line of torch-bearing 'druids' as they set off towards the Standedge Tunnel End.

I fell into step behind a group of drummers, beating out a steady pace along the slippy cobbles. One girl ahead of me was dancing along with the rhythm, seemingly oblivious to the ice underfoot. Part of me wanted to join in, but those cobbles looked very, very slick and so I resolved to just enjoy the music, and to be ready to catch her.

As the Tunnel End drew near, everyone was funneled down the slope towards the visitor centre. At the foot of the slope was an open paddock area, the sloping bank of which was already full of dancers, swirling their torches and fire-baskets around in the driving snow. It was an incongruous sight, but oddly the brightness of the fire-dancing helped dispel thoughts of just how cold it really was!

Once the dancers had done their thing, it was time for the main event of the evening. The battle between Jack Frost and the Green Man would, symbolically at least, decide on whether the green shoots of spring would emerge this year. Though the smart money was on the Green Man to prevail as usual, there was something about the persistence of the snow which led me to wonder whether this year, for once, old Jack might just pull off a shock result. In a blaze of red flares, Jack stepped out onto the snowy slope, aided by his sinister followers.

His opponent wasn't far away. Across at the other side of the slope was the Green Man, who crossed to meet Jack in a blaze of fireworks and flares. The crowd began to cheer loudly (though it must be noted a few were backing the underdog) and the scene was set for the seasonal showdown. The two sides clashed in the middle of the slope. Gradually the Green Man began to push his rival back to where he had come from. Two thirds of the way along, Jack Frost turned and fled. The crowd cheered louder and the Green Man headed back to the centre of the field to stand in triumph, as a great fiery tableau was lit behind him and fireworks crackled overhead.

As the assembled throng ooh-ed and aah-ed along with the display, the odd whisper was heard amongst us which crept across the crowd. Gradually we all realised - when Jack Frost had turned tail and run, the snow had stopped falling. Synchronicity in action, or perhaps there is something in all of this after all...

Heading back along the route the procession had taken I took time to enjoy the moonlit beauty of this pleasant little town, nestled between the snowy slopes of the Colne Valley. Part way along the track was a cheerful well-dressing, created by the Huddersfield Area Pagans that day, and largely missed by the massive throng as it passed by.

When I made it back to the car there was time to grab a little food and drink amongst the crowds in the Railway pub before heading home. I had intended to head down the valley to Huddersfield to pick up the motorway there, but the RAC Traffic app told me the M62 was shut due to a jack-knifed lorry. So - up and over Standedge it was to be once more!

The road was just as slippy on the return journey and I half expected to see the remains of the 184 bus adorning one of the tighter corners. Despite this, however, I made it back across to Lancashire in one piece, with the only terrifying moments down to the ludicrous driving of various white van men, for whom icy roads are no reason to travel below 50mph.

Now, a day later, most of the snow here has gone and my trip across the Pennines seems somehow more distant, and slightly unreal. I do hope to return to Marsden to see the battle between Winter and Spring again some day, and perhaps next time the Green Man will start with slightly less of a disadvantage.

So, here's to green shoots, new life, and to warmer days.

Sing, cuccu!

All aboard the Sleeper...

2011-12-04T02:03:00.001Z

Arriving at Warrington Bank Quay station on Thursday evening I was treated to an uncomfortable flashback. A long dark journey in semi-reclined half-comfort ending in frozen dissatisfaction; locked for hours in a sub-zero carriage on Waverley station, skulking back through the snowdrifts to England in abject disappointment. Yes, one whole year had passed since my first attempt to take the night train to Scotland, and it was time to try it again.
For those of you who don't know, my parents retired to the Moray coast, which means during the winter, when they won't travel, I can go 4 months without seeing them. To combat this I have driven up, flown up, even invited myself for Christmas. This time it was the turn of the sleeper train to help me bridge the gap.
The Caledonian Sleeper had always fascinated me. The thought of waking up at your destination after a long journey is an alluring one, and the thought of catching any overnight service seems quite a romantic way to travel. Moreover the Scottish service rumbles along the same tracks as the famous Night Mail of Auden's imagination... what rail enthusiast wouldn't want to be 'puffing up Beattock' at some point in their lives?
Getting the train involved a trip south to Crewe. Boarding here meant a bed at midnight, and a good rest. It seemed perverse to travel south for 19mins only to be carried right back through Bank Quay on my way north! However the plan worked and I got a nice berth to myself from the Cheshire hub northward.
It proved somewhat tricky to settle off to sleep for any length of time as I kept being disturbed by the rattle and shake of the carriage. Lying down on a train you seem to feel the rattles and jolts more than usual, and at one point I awoke to a rhythmic squealing and lurching, convincing myself in my semi-conscious state that there was a fault in the carriage and we were going to derail! Eventually however I did drop back off and got a reasonable night's sleep.
Soon the wake up call at 7am alerted me to the fact that Aberdeen was approaching. This was accompanied by a coffee & shortbread, with Scotrail getting the customer service side of things perfectly fine and dandy this time around.
Overall it was a fun experience travelling up in this manner, and one I would do again if I could... which is lucky because in order to get home I need to catch the night train from Inverness to Crewe on Monday night.
So... I am half way through my few days in Scotland. My mum is feeding me within an inch of my life, I'm getting plenty of sleep and I'm managing to read some novels too! And there's the cool journey home to look forward to as well. What's not to love?!

Myth Makers 16: Pseudoscope

2011-09-21T14:27:00.005Z

I am very pleased to be able to announce the arrival of my latest short story, which forms part of the sixteenth Myth Makers anthology.

Myth Makers is the official fiction anthology of the Doctor Who Information Network, a fan organisation based in Canada. The latest issue, Pseudoscope, contains stories and original artwork which look at the subject of dreams, hallucinations and altered perceptions.

My story, Oyun, features the ninth Doctor and a Siberian shaman who helps him to save the world.

Looking at the rest of the stories featuring in this book, it is very nice to see some other authors from the Short Trips series getting an outing in this one, particularly J R Loflin and Violet Addison from How the Doctor Changed My Life. I can't wait to see what they've come up with this time around.

More information can be found here, including a link to enable you to order yourself a shiny copy of the book. Go on, you know you want one...

Into the Poetry Archive...

2011-09-14T19:15:00.002Z

I've been writing poetry for some time now - nearly 30 years to be precise. My first proper one was called "Whirlwind" and a lot of people seemed to like it. I have a vague notion it's up in the attic somewhere, so maybe I will dig it out some day.

Thinking about this, I happened to wonder what sort of poetry I was writing ten years ago, back in 2001. I was 25, had been in gainful employment for about 18 months, was still living at home with my parents. Naturally one would expect me to be at the peak of my creative powers, a cheery and carefree style dominating, peppered with chirpy asides and delivered with confidence, perhaps even brio. Unfortunately the reality was somewhat different, and a dip into the archive brings up quite a lot of poetry that is, frankly, quite depressing!

It wasn't all doom and gloom, however. Here's a little something I came up with after taking the rail journey from Fort William to Mallaig, which has to be one of the most gorgeous train rides on the planet. Anyone who has done the journey should be able to identify some of the places I went past - extra points to you if you can.

Enjoy!

On the West Highland Line

From the least inspiring
Town in the north
A single iron road runs
Westward, to the Isles.

A long lochside journey -
Outward Bound.
Tracking the tarmac
Across the Rough Bounds.

Curving stones arch-monumental.
This is the place of landing,
Far from the place of weeping -
We all move on.

Past hill and glen and loch and stream
Then sand and sea and shore
To views that (quite litorally)
Take my breath away.

From white sand coves
To glitter-blue northern ocean
And those distant jagged islands
All crowd for ones attention

Until the iron road ends
Where the boats begin...
And the only way back
Is to enjoy it all over again.

(c) Mike Amberry, 2001

Social Disconnect

2011-08-10T22:46:00.004Z

The recent deplorable scenes in English cities have got me thinking, which does happen from time to time. It appears that much of the violence and looting was coordinated via social networking, specifically the BlackBerry Messenger service.
I suppose it is quite apt that technology that symbolises the anonymisation of our personal relationships should help the faceless mob in destroying the very communities which have bred and sustained them.
That being said, the mob are not write as faceless as it first appeared, and now we see the delightful visages of hooded vandals spreading across Facebook, encouraging all and sundry to help the police bring the blighters in.
This is the more positive face of social networking, exemplified by the excellent cleanup campaigns orchestrated through Twitter and the passive resistance of Operation Cup of Tea.

I have long been a Tweet-sceptic, refusing to join the crowd in loosing off the minutiae of my daily existence in 140 characters or less... however the positive uses of the site over recent days, and a certain desire to follow what is going on, have finally persuaded me to join. Whether anything I tweet will be of any interest will remain to be seen! So – my online persona fractures a little further – across Facebook, Google+, Twitter and, of course, this blog! That is, if I remember to update them all…
This all brings me back to the original point of social disconnect; the number of ways to interact with people that don't involve actual conversation are myriad. Since I got into Facebook, the convenience of short, regular updates has meant this blog has been rather neglected. Worse still it was left on rather a low note with my daughter's meningitis scare when she was barely 4 months old. Things have moved on in a happier slant since that, as those of you who know me will of course already be aware. For those who don’t, however, I suppose I should say that everything is fine - we have a happy little 2 year old, busy running her father ragged and proving just as wilfully cute as her Mum. I may even get around to posting a picture of her... who knows!

It never rains...

2009-04-19T18:18:00.004Z

No, really - I've not seen rain for several days, but that's not the meaning of this post.
We're up in Scotland at the moment, staying for Easter with my parents on the Moray coast. It was a lovely Easter weekend with plenty of food as usual. The problem came on Easter Monday.
Putting Meredith in her Bumbo seat her trouser leg rolled up to show an unmistakeable purple rash. We took her to the bedroom to take a further look and tried that test where you roll a glass over the rash to see if it blanches. It didn't. Fearing meningitis we got straight in the car and drove the 25 miles to the hospital at Elgin where they wasted no time in ushering us straight through to A&E, who deposited us in the children's ward with not inconsiderable haste.
Four nights of testing and intravenous antibiotics followed (into a vein in her scalp - ouch!) until Meri was finally given the all clear to come home on Friday morning. It was a hugely stressful time for us all and made us glad we knew the signs of meningitis so we could waste no time in getting Meri to a hospital. Without urgent treatment this is a potentially fatal illness and no messing around should ever happen if you see a rash like that.
The tests were, in the end, inconclusive, but it was the opinion of the consultant that it was more than likely a meningococcal infection which, if left untreated, would have blossomed grimly into meningitis.
So - there we are, home and relieved for the weekend and ready to head down for a relaxing afternoon at Spey Bay when we notice the car windscreen has a huge crack down one side. A quick call to my insurers later and we find this can't be repaired until Tuesday 21st! So much for getting Meredith back home after her ordeal and so much for my work trip to Lincoln too! Never mind, I suppose an enforced extension to our time in the north will give all of us a little time to unwind before the long journey home. Sometimes though, you just want your own sofa, your own kitchen, your own bed.
So, as they say - it never rains. And thankfully that really is one thing it hasn't done this week. Not yet, anyway...

Trial by Fire

2009-03-31T23:07:00.003Z

My latest published short story has hit the shelves! It can be found in the latest Big Finish Doctor Who short story anthology, Short Trips: Indefinable Magic. I've seen the other stories and there are some excellent ones in the collection which would be well worth getting a copy of even if it didn't have something by yours truly in it!

Here's some more information about the book as a whole...

An anthology of brand new Doctor Who short stories that weave a spell over the wonder that is Doctor Who.

A plot to kidnap Elvis Presley...
A woman whose horoscopes prove rather too accurate...
A devastating army of mythical beasts that conquers Britain...

The Doctor and his travelling companions live magical lives – but their lives are tainted by terror. Delve into bizarre, wondrous or simply horrifying worlds with the Doctor and his friends as they land on a world where everyone can fly, help a good friend trapped four centuries in the past, and face aliens that simply want to bring peace to humanity.

LIST OF STORIES AND AUTHORS:

What Has Happened to the Magic of Doctor Who? by Gareth Roberts
Phoenix by James Goss
The Power Supply by Eddie Robson
Favourite Star by Ian Farrington
Hiccup In Time by Matthew James
Shamans by Steve Lyons
The Fall of the Druids by David N Smith
Priceless Junk by Cavan Scott and Mark Wright
Have you Tried Turning it off and then Back On Again? by John Callaghan
The Reign Makers by Gareth Wigmore
Pass It On by Simon Guerrier
The Science of Magic by Michael Rees
Hello Goodbye by Jim Sangster
Trial By Fire by Mike Amberry
Death Sentences by Stephen Hatcher
Once Upon a Time Machine by Stephen Dunn
Mardi Gras Massacre by Arnold T Blumberg
Blessed are the Peacemakers by Caleb Woodbridge

How cute?

2009-02-18T22:00:00.007Z

It's been pointed out, most recently and most embarrassingly by my wife, that there are no photos of our daughter Meredith on this blog. I tried to defend myself, saying that it is a blog whose updates are few and far between. That photos have been uploaded onto Facebook. That nobody reads this anyway. Unfortunately my excuses were just too lame...

So, here we go. To redress the balance, possibly the cutest photo taken of little Meredith in her seven and a half weeks of life, courtesy of her snap-happy Mum. They look a bit alike, I think...

Down came the snow

2009-02-02T20:49:00.002Z

An unusual event for those of us living in the marshes, but yesterday we got some of the snow the whole country seemed to be talking about. In total we got about a quarter of an inch and it lasted until this morning. The southeast grinds to a halt under less! Farley the dog loved wandering out and scooping up mouthfuls of it until his nose started to get cold. He then tried to remove the remaining snow from his nose by, you guessed it, wiping his nose on the ground. It took him a while to figure it all out...

With today being St Brigid's Eve / Imbolc / Oimelc / whatever you want to call the halfway point between midwinter and the spring solstice it seems that this year I'll have to wait a little longer than in recent times to start listening for the cuckoo...

Breaking the Silence!

2008-10-23T21:17:00.001Z

It's been a long time since I posted on here! Plenty has happened in the meantime - another work exam passed, another short story or two written and quite a few geocaches found. All of it fuelled by a healthy diet of tea and beer as usual.
So - what's on the horizon? Well, I suppose the biggest thing is my impending fatherhood! We're due a little arrival in mid December which fills me with a mixture of expectation and crawling terror. I'm sure I'll adapt to the whole idea when the time comes and, as the day edges nearer, I'm getting gradually more excited.
Expect a reasonable number of baby photos to appear here sometime soon...

Rain stops play

2008-07-11T22:21:00.001Z

I'm at a bit of a loose end this weekend. I was meant to be walking the Sandstone Trail from Frodsham to Whitchurch over two days. The plan was to camp half way along the route, have Michelle drop me off at the start on Saturday morning and pick me up from the finish on Sunday night. In the meantime it would be the hound and me with two days to potter through the lovely Cheshire countryside.
That was until I noticed the weather forecast earlier this week. After the torrential rain on Wednesday and the sunshine and showers we'd had for the rest of the week I didn't hold out much hope for the weekend and, sure enough, the long range forecast was grim.
So, I cancelled the campsite and made alternative plans. Now I check the weather forecast and see... yes, sunshine.
Sometimes I hate the British climate. No matter, there's plenty to do in the garden, though it'll probably still rain...

Snowdonia Challenge

2008-06-23T09:18:00.004Z

Well I've just about recovered from this year's Snowdonia Challenge event. 42 teams of highly trained athletes pitting their collective wits against the highest Welsh peaks and the darkest Celtic forests. Or something like that.
Our team, Lost Patrol, managed to combine a healthy intake of beer and pub food with a creditable 8th place in the competition, our highest in three years of competing. We managed to finish the 29 mile course in just over 14 hours which either means we're all fitter than usual or nobody got lost this year! The pressure's on for another top ten finish next year.
I would normally provide a link to our excellent accommodation but it was so good that I don't want other teams to find out where it was and book it before us for next year. Suffice to say that, after staying in a spider-infested shed of a bunkhouse two years ago and the distinctly more plush Capel Curig Youth Hostel last year I have finally found some accommodation that suits the team to a tee.
A big thumbs up to the Tyn-y-Coed pub this year for providing excellent food and beer, and somewhere to watch the football. Even the otherwise dreadful Russia v Greece game was made endlessly more pleasant by a pint of Spitfire and a big plate of sticky toffee pudding. It was all fuel for the following day's walking. Honest...

Herefordshire Holiday

2008-06-01T11:32:00.002Z

I'm back home from a relaxing week near Leominster, having finally got around to spending some time in a county I've been fond of for some time. Herefordshire was always somewhere on the way from Lancashire to South Wales, a journey I've made more than a few times. It always looked like a lovely place to spend a bit of time, so I finally bit the bullet and sorted out a week there.
Unfortunately the weather has been grim, curtailing a lot of the plans I had for getting out into the countryside. Still, I did manage a few walks with Farley and a bit of geocaching too.
The main thing that struck me about Herefordshire was just how green it was. The whole county was lush, especially the orchards that give the place its reputation. Speaking of orchards I sampled more than my fair share of excellent cider, the best of which came from Olivers Cider and Dunkertons - in fact the 2004 Vintage Dunkertons was the best cider I've tasted in a long time.
Our accommodation was the marvellously comfortable Walnut Tree Cottage in Brierley, which deserves it's four star rating. They even welcome pets, which made this even more of a good find.
So, now it's only a few short hours and back to work on Monday. Ah, those post holiday blues!

How The Doctor Changed My Life

2008-05-23T11:00:00.007Z

The Big Finish website has posted a news story and full details of the forthcoming Doctor Who anthology, How The Doctor Changed My Life. This would be exciting enough anyway, if it weren't for the fact that I've got a story in it! I was a runner up in a competition to find new writers for Doctor Who and, along with 24 other lucky entrants, got my story into this book!

The cover picture here is by Alex Mallinson and the information below is from the Big Finish website. I can't wait for this to come out!

The schoolboy whose twin brother vanished in the night. A woman whose house teems with alien refugees. The dad who dies every evening...

All through space and time live people, ordinary people, whose lives have been turned upside down.

People who’ve lost jobs and loved ones, or seen their homes destroyed, or found themselves on whole other planets. They’ve nothing in common with one another except that their lives can never be the same.

Because they’re people who’ve met the Doctor.

Featuring 25 original stories from 25 brand-new authors – the winners of a competition to seek out bold new writing talent!

Here's what to expect:

Foreword by Paul Cornell

Homework by Michael Coen
Change Management by Simon Moore
Curiosity by Mike Amberry
Potential by Stephen Dunn
Second Chances by Bernard O’Toole
Child’s Play by LM Myles
Relativity by Michael Montoure
Outstanding Balance by Tim Lambert
The Last Thing You Ever See by Richard Goff
The Shopping Trolleys of Doom by Caleb Woodbridge
The Final Star by Chris Wing
The Man on the Phone by Mark Smith
The Monster in the Wardrobe by James C McFetridge
Suns and Mothers by Einar Olgeirsson
Taking the Cure by Matthew James
Those Left Behind by Violet Addison
Evitability by Andrew K Purvis
£436 by Nick May
Time Shear by Steven Alexander
Running on Empty by JR Loflin
Swamp of Horrors (1957) – Viewing Notes by Michael Rees
Insider Dealing by Dann Chinn
The Andrew Invasion by John Callaghan
Stolen Days by Arnold T Blumberg
Lares Domestici by Anna Bratton

Hedgehog Awareness Week

2008-05-07T21:45:00.002Z

Yes, it's Hedgehog Awareness Week at the moment. Those of you who know me will know I have a soft spot for our spiky hedgerow friends and so it will come as no surprise that I'm trying to do some fundraising for the British Hedgehog Preservation Society.

If anyone would like to help me my fundraising page is here. The plan involves a short quiz which I hope people will print out and sell to their friends and colleagues in exchange for a small donation.

I was hoping to see some hedgies in my street this week considering my fundraising efforts but they've stayed hidden so far, the ungrateful little buggers. The best time for hedgie spotting is after 11pm when I walk the dog. There's often one snuffling around the front gardens. Maybe tonight I'll have more luck...

How does my garden grow?

2008-04-23T18:57:00.002Z

At the weekend I planted my vegetable patch for the coming season. It's not particularly large, but then I'm not the most adept gardener in the world and am a firm believer in not overreaching my horticultural abilities.
After a couple of summers of seeing tomatoes rotting on the vine I have decided not to bother this year, and so will concentrate on the things that grew well in last summer's garden. Carrots, radishes and peas have been planted alongside the rhubarb crown and raspberry canes. I've also sown the seeds for climbing courgettes and little winter squashes, whose first appearance is expected in the conservatory next week. A little ambitious perhaps, but what the heck!
The final inhabitants of the vegetable patch are two minarette fruit trees, one apple and one plum, which I'm hoping will fruit this year but, realistically, next year might be more likely.
Hopefully there will be a slightly warmer, slightly drier summer ahead which will make everything grow big and strong. Then I can post photos of my gardening triumphs on this blog and feel all smug and green-fingered...

WHITESPACE

2008-04-17T09:10:00.005Z

I released my latest geocache last night, and it's a bit of a stinker! I've been wanting to make a proper puzzle cache for a while now, and to combine it with a difficult to get to location.
I can't see this being found for a couple of days at least...
Here's the link - it's a Premium Member only cache at the moment but it'll be available to everyone soon.

WHITESPACE

Here's a nice view from the hilltop above the cache, with a rain shower moving over Newhey in the distance.

Well done to Rutson for getting the First to Find within 24 hours!

A fresh page

2008-04-14T22:48:00.002Z

It's been a while since I posted anything on my blog. In fact it was beginning to look a little outdated and unloved so I've decided on a spring clean and a fresh start. Let's see what I can make of it this time around!