...would all have meant nothing a few years ago.  Then my publishers came up with some good advice.

They said, 'Put yourself about.' 

Now all the talks that were booked eighteen months ago are rolling in and it's wonderful.  And so different.  Writing is a lonely occupation - hours spent in the head of (frequently) dark and troubled women.  If I don't get out, these characters become even darker and the whole process oppressive so it's lovely to go to a bright hall and meet real people.

That's not to say the characters aren't real - it's just that while they are in my head they are real only to me and our exclusive relationship becomes too intense at times.

This week's bright halls were in East Molesey (for the Ladies Probus Club); Cobham (for the Cedar Club WI) and Ashstead (for the Link Club).   The first was a well polished British Legion Hall - surprisingly spacious and comfortable and I was greeted with the happy news that all but two of the attendees hadn't heard me before. Hurrrah!  Carte Blanche.  I was conscious of the two who had - had to check that they were entertained.  It was a good sized audience, very responsive and friendly. 

 I knew the hall the Cedar Club used and it's a treat to arrive last and find that there's a space - an accessible one - left for the speaker. 

The last hall was St Georges Centre in Ashstead -  arrived at via a circuitous arrangement of roads and roundabouts and impossible signposts.  I challenge anyone who doubts the existence of a God to explain the invention of sat nav.   I also have to thank Gail, whose introduction was so well researched and prepared.   On a freezing night the warmth of her welcome made all the difference...

I used to think, as some do still, that the WI were all 'Jam and Jerusalem'.  They aren't.  In fact many don't sing Jerusalem any more and I think that's a pity because it took my friend, Margaret (92) a full hour and a half to teach me the words.  It wasn't that I am slow on the uptake; it was because the hymn book was special to her and she didn't want to loan it out - nor did she want to miss an opportunity to teach me something she knew and I didn't.  It was important that I learn it too because as Speaker, you have to stand at the front of the hall and when the assembled rises to sing they know when you are MOUTHING THE WRONG WORDS! Jerusalem isn't in the repetoire of Irish persons, generally, so I'd like the opportunity to sing it more often.  And I make no apologies for that - it's very rousing.

So was the audience last night.  Trumps Green WI meet in a well appointed Community Hall in Virginia Water and they are a friendly crowd - big age range and great sense of humour.  One lady asked me what they looked like from the front.  She often wondered if they were serious looking, off-putting - not at all. It's lovely when you know the punchline is coming and you can see by the ripple of shuffling smiles that the audience is anticipating it too.

A young girl came up at the end and talked about her Creative Writing Course and the story she has to write by Friday.  Grace - I hope it goes well.

So, after a long absence, I am going to embark on recording the comments that stay with me after a talk. 

Today, at Burrhill Golf Club, in Hersham/Weybridge, I met a group of ladies with whom I could easily have spent all day.  In the q&a session following the talk, one asked if  it was true that everyone has a book in him/her.  I said, yes - to an extent - but it's not aways the same type of book.  Not everyone can, or should, write a novel. Some people have heads full of stories and some have heads full of instructions, or comments or facts.

A lady then put her hand up and said that her husband had recorded some events from their life together but stopped and so she had taken it upon herself to complete the task.  She filled in the gaps with her memories and then lent the manuscript to her daughter to read.  The daughter returned the manuscript and said, 'No - you've got it wrong.  That's not how it happened...' and so the mother, enthusiasm quashed, stopped writing.  And it made her SO sad.

It made me cross.

You see, the daughter may have experienced the event too but she cannot dictate how it happened because until her mother tells her, she does not know how it happened to anyone else.  My advice was that the mother's instinct was right.  Things should be recorded, not because it will tell your chilren in years to come about events but because it will tell them about you - how you experienced them, what you felt, who YOU were.

It's all down to point of view.

So - write.