False economy

I popped in to Crowborough Library recently, and in the council’s foyer I saw the plans for lighting our streets in the nights to come.

I know the council must save money. I’m all for sensible cost cutting. I have no issue whatsoever with turning off every other light in a road. Presumably, that’s a 50% reduction at a stroke, with little loss of illumination.

I’d even cut every other light on those roads where they propose keeping things as they are. They’d still be well lit enough to be safe, and I doubt it would distress anybody.

What will distress people is the proposal concerning other streets, whereby ALL lighting will be turned off from 00.30 to 06.30 nightly. To me, that’s economy at the expense of public safety, and that’s no economy at all.

For one thing, people are still out and about at half past midnight. Even my quiet cul-de-sac is not completely deserted at that time, although Sunday to Thursday it’s generally silent by 1am. Waiting an extra thirty minutes could make a big difference.

Fridays and Saturdays, of course, people are out till the small hours and need lights to get home. Girls in particular need to see properly to feel safe. Would you be happy if your daughter was walking home in the pitch darkness? I know I wouldn’t.

And what about potholes? Treacherous in daylight, in the dark they’d be lethal. A few compensation claims from Lawyers4U would completely wipe out the savings on the electricity bill.

I hope the council will think again and leave us some lighting, at least at those times when people are still likely to be out. Or will someone have to be hurt before they realise that some economies are just not worth the candle?

Pit Your Wits for World In Need

If you enjoy Quiz Nights, there's a treat in store for you. 

Come and join us at the All Saints Church Centre on Saturday May 12^th for the World In Need “Pit Your Wits” Evening. Doors open at 7pm for a 7.30pm start.

Our quiz master is Nigel Large. While he tests you, his sister Hilary and her team will provide a ploughman’s meal to help keep the little grey cells nourished. Drinks will be on sale, to include teas and coffees as well as wine.

Tickets for the quiz and buffet are £7.50 per person. Bring your own team of up to eight players, or come along and we’ll find you a team on the night.

Nigel has a devious mind, and to make the evening a little different while raising as much money for World In Need as we can, he has devised and prepared some extra brain teasers. These puzzles are in addition to the main quiz rounds, and are not included in the ticket price. They will be available before the quiz starts and in the interval, and will cost you a small extra donation.

Tickets are available from Marilyn on 01892 669834, or reserve yours by emailing info@worldinneed.co.uk.

Disappearing witnesses

Easter once was an important time of year. Like Christmas, it was a date to set goals: “By Easter, I will have done this or achieved that.” It determined the school term and heralded summer after harsh and unforgiving winter.

For Christians, Easter is far more, of course. Celebrating the death and resurrection of Jesus, it is the most important time of our year. Far more important than Christmas.

For many years, Christians in Crowborough marked Good Friday with a Walk of Witness. They walked from the United Church to the town centre, at once thanking Jesus for his sacrifice and making a public declaration of their faith. Years ago, the police arranged for the temporary halting of traffic for this, although more recently we’ve had to squeeze onto pavements and take our chances at junctions. The long lines of walkers became little clumps as one group crossed a road and another group waited for a new break in traffic.

This year, there will be no walk at all. I find this a shame. Not because I feel everyone should celebrate my God, or because I wish to proselytise, but because I am proud to confess myself his follower, happy to stand and be counted for him.

I don’t mind that others carry on with their normal day. I don’t mind if they ignore me, or even mock me for marking the occasion. That is their right. I simply would like to be able to walk and witness with others whgo share my beliefs. Is that so wrong?

A Grave situation

Recently, I took a friend to the Herne Road cemetery, to tend her family’s resting places. It was the first time I’d been there, and I was appalled.

My father rests at Seaford, where the cemetery is peaceful and welcoming, with well tended flower beds, graves and paths. In contrast, Herne Road cemetery was a place I would not wish to linger. To be honest, what I saw bordered on neglect.

To start with, there didn’t seem an easy way of getting to the graves. The paths aren’t paved, and when I visited, they were muddy and churned. That’s bad enough if you’re just ruining good shoes, but it’s potentially lethal to someone unsteady on their feet.

Bushes and shrubs had been planted to honour loved ones, and many had grown out of control. In other cemeteries I’ve visited, overgrowth is trimmed back and bushes kept neat so they don’t impinge on other graves. Similarly, the rampant spread of heather and other fast growing plants is carefully checked.

Talking to others, I discovered much discontent. One lady was distressed by the pile of rubbish behind her grandfather’s grave. Gardeners had cut back hedges, piled the branches and then just left them.

Apparently, it’s worse in summer. Families tend graves, making them pristine. Then the gardeners come with strimmers. The grass cuttings blow all over the graves and are left there. Worse, it is not uncommon for the strimmers to actually chip the stone surrounds of graves. I know how I would feel if my loved one’s resting place was damaged in this way.

Grave plots are paid for, and they aren’t cheap. They should be treated with respect, as should the graveyard as a whole, and its visitors. That’s surely not too much to ask in a modern, civilised society?

Busy, busy, busy

It's been a hectic couple of months, but well worth it. I've finished and sold the stage version of "Barabbas", and that will be published in 2012 by Eldridge Publishing (http://www.histage.com).

The pantomime, "Ahmed and his Mummy" is to be performed in Crowborough in January 2012 and rehearsals are underway. I stand in awe of the talent on display, and am really gratified at the fun and laughter that comes out of the rehearsal room each week.

The pantomime "Sinbad the Sailor" is half done and has been put on hold so I can finish the screenplay version of "Barabbas". I find I can't work on two things at once, and of the two, "Barabbas" was the more pressing. Sinbad will be finished soon.

On top of all this, life goes on. My son, who has recently lost a staggering 170 pounds in weight, is taking part in his first ever football tournament on Sunday, so guess where I will be, wrapped in scarves and woolly hats and cheering for him? The same way I frequently stand and cheer my grandsons at their matches.

Then I am working to advertise the World In Need "Alternative Christmas Gifts", whereby you buy a gift for someone in the developing world, in the name of someone you love here. This is work I am passionate about, so I always make time for it.

Plus, Christmas is coming, pressies need wrapping, cards need writing, shopping needs doing, and time is a marching on. How come 25th December always sneaks up and finds me unawares?

Today, though, I took time out of my schedule, to speak to the children in Year 6 at St Mary's Catholic School in Crowborough. They wanted to know about writing, and I was honoured to tell them about my writing day and routine. I hope they got as much out of it as I did.

This afternoon, after the school trip and then a walk on the forest with the dog (anything to procrastinate), I wrote the crucifixion scenes in "Barabbas". Now I am exhausted and need a lie down.

Goes to show you never can tell.

Last year, I was ill. I took several months to get myself on the road to recovery and it affected my output somewhat. I did write a few things whilst I was "under the weather", but I was definitely slower than before, not so prolific. I was also dreadfully unsure of the standard I was achieving.


I managed to write a couple of things, but each word was wrung from me, and there were tears shed over my lost ability. I was convinced each scene was rubbish, so much so that I was almost embarrassed to show anyone.


I managed to write three major things during my illness. The first was a Pantomime, "Ahmed and the Mummy". Basically, I told myself I was going to write it, and I forced myself to do so. Every joke was, to my mind, unfunny. Every line of dialogue sounded stilted. Every situation was cliched and lacking in humour. Friends told me it was funny, but they could not convince me.


At their instigation, I sent the pantomime to the British publisher Lazy Bee (www.lazybeescripts.co.uk) He'd already published 7 of my plays and pantos, so he'd give it the time of day. He would also reject something not up to scratch. There's no old pals act with MY publishers.


Imagine my surprise when he told me it was funny and original and agreed to publish it. That showed me I was not the best judge of my own work!


This lesson was reinforced when I was asked to write a modern day Nativity for a local junior drama group. The result was "Power Play". Again I was not convinced of its merits, but it fulfilled the brief, and they liked it. I went to see it. The audience raved about it. I was speechless.


It's to be done again this Christmas, by a different group, which is quite gratifying.


Finally, I wrote a community drama, "Barabbas". I did it because I'd been saying I would and it seemed a good idea to follow through, rather than be known as someone who talked and never did.


Barabbas was one of the hardest things I ever wrote. Every scene was agony. Every line was written several times. Oh, the days when I would put in nine hours solid, have several pages, only to delete the lot the next day and start again. I would go to sleep each night working out the kinks, and wake up every morning ready to take notes. I thought about it over lunch, when I should have been listening to the sermon in church, when I was in the dentist's waiting room. I spoke into my dictaphone while I drove or walked the dog, or did the housework.


It took some months, but Barabbas was finally finished. I sent it to a publisher where four other of my plays have found a home: Eldridge Publishing (www.histage.com). They have rejected as many of my works as they have accepted, and I was fully prepared to have this play thrown back at me.


It was accepted. The editor called it "A fascinating exploration of the last days of Christ", and said it had "richly nuanced characters which makes us really care what happens to them." She went on, "From the opening, bracing violence, to Barabbas' final line, "Because he died for me", we found the play utterly absorbing, compelling, and ultimately uplifting." 


Needless to say, the letter made my day, my week, my month. It buoyed me up and made me feel that maybe I COULD still do this. It showed me that I shouldn't judge my own work when I am in a low frame of mind, and it taught me to keep the faith.


I'm writing again. I'm feeling confident in my abilities again. And it feels good.

A time to write, a time to read...

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven. (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

In the last few months, my writing time has been seriously depleted. Family commitments, fighting for my son's funding, ill health, church, charity and work commitments, all have taken their toll on my writing until not writing had become a habit that was very difficult to break. I want to write. I have ideas ready to turn into pieces of writing. I'm just not doing it.

So, time for some drastic action, methinks.

So, for the next few days I am taking myself out of circulation and into a writing retreat of my own making. I'm shutting down my internet connection, turning off both my landline and mobile phones, and hunkering down. I'm not available to meet with friends, to work, to attend events. I am, in short, off the grid.

I intend to spend the next few days doing nothing but writing. All day, every day. I have my work ready to begin, I've got the books I need for research, and I'm going for it. I hope to come back to civilisation about 10,000 words better off, and with the habit of not writing firmly broken.

Because if I don't take myself in hand and get on with it, who else will make me?

And in the evenings, instead of sitting in front of the TV, or answering non essential emails, I shall read. I aim to get through at least two of the books on my to be read pile.

See you all the other side!