AUTHOR'S CORNER;

WISE OLD OWL!

WISDOM DOES NOT COME WITHOUT A PRICE, NOR IS IT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED; WISDOM'S PRICE IS OFTEN INFINITE BOREDOM AND A PENANCE OF WATCHING THE REST OF THE WORLD HAVING FUN!

As many of my friends would like to nickname me; I am known amongst the group as the preacher!  They love me, I know, but they don't love having fun with me; I have been told that I seem to participate little and shake my head quite a lot when fun is being had.  Why, you (and I have often) ask, have I chosen this stick-in-the-mud attitude at the prime of my life. Have I taken up new religious vows or joined a convent of sorts?  No.  Do I profess to be holier than thou and have a squeaky clean background?  No.  Have I been blessed by a revelation and have sworn to be good, honest and true? No.  None of the above, in fact, I have a very bohemian appearance, quite a tolerant approach to all people, I believe in freedom of expression more than anyone.  So what then?

I am not judgemental, honest.  I am not a prude and I am no stick in the mud...well not in essence.  the problem I suffer is a problem which I think can be directly related to the fact that I am a writer.  You see, by nature of my ...nature, I am compelled to analyse and assess situations, I see potential and pitfalls in scenarios, I study faces and features and behaviours and in my mind, come up with an outcome to situations, personalities and actions.  It is not something I do on purpose, instead it is something that I find myself doing involuntarily.  The more adapt I become at writing, the more polished my writing becomes, the more intricate and complicated my plots become, the more my mind reasons and calculates and draws up a conclusion.

Ah, take me back to days of ignorance, where laughter and happiness were indeed real, where I could not see behind the masks of mirth that my companions wore!  Take me back upon the wings of illusion and let me soar up high into a bright blue sky!  The mist upon my eyes was the blessing in disguise; for now I see, I truly see!

And I find that this ability to read and see into scenarios has spilt into my real life; the more I write, the more I come up with morals in my stories, the more I see injustice, danger and untruth in the world.  Thus, compelling me to impart my knowledge on my friends and family.  I am beginning to sound like a pastor on a Sunday sermon, and the worst thing is, I can actually hear myself!  I can also feel my soul cringing as the words of so-called wisdom leave my pierced, opinionated lips!  Dancing on tables is no longer fun, getting tipsy is stupid and chatting up strangers is very dangerous. Entertaining any sort of trouble, be it a little Christmas debt or a sneaky white lie, becomes a potential for a disaster!  My friends have tried to understand, they have tried to humour me, they have even tried to appreciate me, but have begun to tire of me!  'Stop being a stick in the mud!' they all say.  I realise with great anxiety that I am probably turning into my mother!  'But I am not a stick in the mud,' I argue in my mother's voice, 'I'm only trying to warn you!' 

And as for my husband, he simply asks, 'What is the matter with you, you old crow?  I behave much younger than you, you never want to have fun any more!'  To which I puff my chest, pierce my lips and simply give a half hour long speech at the importance of being sensible, grown-up and mature!  

Read my novels though, and in them you will find, murder, sex, prostitution, fun and games and lots of foolish love!!  I guess I live my foolishness through the characters in my stories and reserve judgement for the world in which I live!

Where lovers' hands so easily entwined and lovers' promise too easily believed; what more can describe heaven, than a blissful union of two beating hearts?  The days of blind joy, and muffled voices and a clarity of the drunken soul.