Author A S Bielby

About me I was born in Stockton on Tees to a family living in Middlesbrough. We moved to a village near Whitby in North Yorkshire where I spent many years. I graduated from the University of East Anglia, worked as a Careers Advisor ending up as head of a university careers service. I have two children, two stepchildren and a lovely grandson. The children are grown-up with their own lives.

My husband and I came to Cyprus to live in 2007 after a hectic work life ‘to live the dream’, having finally retired from the property management business.

I have, for many years, wanted to write a book but I didn’t really know how to do it. Having met a member of the Paphos Writers Group, I decided to apply to join so have had a lot of practical help as well as encouragement to write. I am now slowly writing my novel as well as short stories. I met Glynis Smy (author of ‘Ripper, My Love’) recently, whose encouragement and help have given me a new lease of life..

My book ‘Payback Time’ is set in the North of England, as well as the south west of Cyprus. It is a romance/ family drama; how they meet and endeavour to overcome adversity, experience adventures on the way. Will they all make it intact through dark days? Time will tell.

Tuesday 29 January 2013

Brief Encounter





Jane was rushing, with her head full of things that had  happened recently. As she rounded the corner of the busy shopping street she collided with a young man coming in the opposite direction.
            ‘Whoa! Look where you’re going!’ he stopped to steady her. Then a light dawned in his eyes.
            ‘Isn’t it Jane Simpson?’ he said hesitantly.
She screwed her eyes up to see who’d nearly knocked her flying and found herself looking into the eyes of a former boyfriend, someone she’d dated for several years sometime before her marriage.
            ‘ I used to be a long time ago. I’m now Jane Gibbs,’ she replied.
            ‘Well I never, fancy bumping into you. I haven’t seen you for ages or even heard about you from friends we’d in common. How are you?’ he scrutinised her face. ‘You look tired.’
You won’t have heard of me she thought. Jim won’t let me have friends. He’s made sure that I’m cut off from anyone I used to know. He alienates everyone. If it wasn’t for the children I’d have left years ago.
            ‘I’m just a little tired John, as I’ve been up with one of the children who’s been sick. Nothing a little sleep won’t cure. How about you? You look well. What are you doing now?’ she asked, keen to deflect any further questions.
‘Oh, I was married but now I’m divorced. I’ve two children who are five and three. They live with their mother but I have them every other week end. We both found it didn’t work after a while.’
 Wish I could leave Jim, but he’d never let me take the children. I’m in a very different situation. If only Jim didn’t fly into rages and lash out. What a good job he doesn’t hit me where it shows. He’s very crafty like that. My bruises are always hidden. I can’t be without the children.
            ‘Good for you. It’s good that you’ve easy access to your children. How old are they?’
            ‘Five and seven. The youngest has just started school. How about yours?’ he inquired.
            ‘Similar to yours. Six and eight. One of them has chickenpox at present. A neighbour is looking after him so I can shop. Well I must dash,’ she was impatient to end the conversation as she didn’t want any more awkward questions to be asked. Seeing him had reminded her of the past and good feelings she had experienced then. Feelings that had been forgotten. I can’t even remember why we split.
            ‘Not so quickly! Come and have a coffee and we can talk more. For old times sake,’ he
appealed to her. ‘Surely we can reminisce a little.’
            ‘Another time. I really do need to get back now and relieve my neighbour. Sick children need their mothers and I don’t want to put on her.’
            ‘Please take my phone number and ring me when you can spend a few minutes with an old friend,’ he pleaded.
            ‘OK, I’ll do that,’ she replied not meaning it.
He scribbled it on a piece of paper he had in his pocket and pushed it into her hand. They took their leave of each other.
 As he walked away Jane wanted to scream Don’t go I need a friend! but daren’t. She was pensive. It’s time to go to ask for help. I may as well be dead as exist like this. Life is to be enjoyed not endured! I’d forgotten what it’s like to experience kindness.
 She took out her phone and dialled a Refuge!

© AS Bielby October 2011
                        

Friday 25 January 2013

Another Day: FRIDAY, 25 JANUARY 2013


25th January, 2013
Another week over. I don't know how they come round so fast. As you grow older time seems to speed up.
Never mind, that's life. It's a lovely day despite my fridge/freezer having noisily gone kaput! It's just one of a long line of things that have seen fit to malfunction this year. The main thing is, that we are alive. As a Cypriot friend remarked when I asked him how he felt, he said, 'Every day I wake up it has to be a great day.' How true.

 Jessica Bell's new book 'Show and Tell in a Nutshell.'
I went to the Paphos Writer's Group yesterday and as usual enjoyed their company. As I remarked last week several are going to buy Jessica Bell's new book 'Show and Tell in a Nutshell.' The only question was how many? It had gone out in the minutes of the meeting and 11 are buying! The Secretary is going to the UK in 10 days; she'll have the copies sent to her son's house and she'll bring them back so that the horrendous amount of shipping is avoided.

Thank you again for your lovely, helpful book. I'm sure we'll be more effective in our writing as a result.
One asked if you'd be writing more self help writing books.
I hope you all have a great writing week.

My good friend Glynis has come to show me how to make my blog more effective so I'll try to put into practice the things she showed me. I did make lots of notes. That'll be good if I can master it. I'm not a natural with technical things. Watch this space.


Thursday 17 January 2013

Paphos Writer's Group

View of Polemi - Cyprus


On a Thursday I go to the Paphos Writer's Group and today I promoted Jessica Bell's new book 'Show and Tell In a Nutshell'. Several people showed interest in buying it so they are looking into ordering several together to try to minimise on shipping. Shipping was disproportionate to its size but for me it was worth every penny. Some may decide to purchase for Kindle.

What surprised me was that the Chairman now wants me to do a tutorial on the content of the book! Have to think about that.

I got a real buzz when, having read out a piece of fantasy writing we had been charged to write, I got really good comment on my dialogue. It seems that I've made good progress over the last year.It used to be stiff and stilted. I had been used to writing very formal documents when I was employed at the University and it showed. Good to know I'm moving in the right direction. It'll keep me going.

Tuesday 15 January 2013

Brief Encounter


                                                Brief Encounter

Jane was rushing, with her head full of things that had  happened recently. As she rounded the corner of the busy shopping street she collided with a young man coming in the opposite direction.
            ‘Whoa! Look where you’re going!’ he stopped to steady her. Then a light dawned in his eyes.
            ‘Isn’t it Jane Simpson?’ he said hesitantly.
She screwed her eyes up to see who’d nearly knocked her flying and found herself looking into the eyes of a former boyfriend, someone she’d dated for several years sometime before her marriage.
            ‘ I used to be a long time ago. I’m now Jane Gibbs,’ she replied.
            ‘Well I never, fancy bumping into you. I haven’t seen you for ages or even heard about you from friends we’d in common. How are you?’ he scrutinised her face. ‘You look tired.’
You won’t have heard of me she thought. Jim won’t let me have friends. He’s made sure that I’m cut off from anyone I used to know. He alienates everyone. If it wasn’t for the children I’d have left years ago.
            ‘I’m just a little tired John, as I’ve been up with one of the children who’s been sick. Nothing a little sleep won’t cure. How about you? You look well. What are you doing now?’
she asked, keen to deflect any further questions.
‘Oh, I was married but now I’m divorced. I’ve two children who are five and three. They live with their mother but I have them every other week end. We both found it didn’t work after a while.’
 Wish I could leave Jim, but he’d never let me take the children. I’m in a very different situation. If only Jim didn’t fly into rages and lash out. What a good job he doesn’t hit me where it shows. He’s very crafty like that. My bruises are always hidden. I can’t be without the children.
            ‘Good for you. It’s good that you’ve easy access to your children. How old are they?’
            ‘Five and seven. The youngest has just started school. How about yours?’ he inquired.
            ‘Similar to yours. Six and eight. One of them has chickenpox at present. A neighbour is looking after him so I can shop. Well I must dash,’ she was impatient to end the conversation as she didn’t want any more awkward questions to be asked. Seeing him had reminded her of the past and good feelings she had experienced then. Feelings that had been forgotten. I can’t even remember why we split.
            ‘Not so quickly! Come and have a coffee and we can talk more. For old times sake,’ he
appealed to her. ‘Surely we can reminisce a little.’
            ‘Another time. I really do need to get back now and relieve my neighbour. Sick children need their mothers and I don’t want to put on her.’
            ‘Please take my phone number and ring me when you can spend a few minutes with an old friend,’ he pleaded.
            ‘OK, I’ll do that,’ she replied not meaning it.
He scribbled it on a piece of paper he had in his pocket and pushed it into her hand. They took their leave of each other.
 As he walked away Jane wanted to scream Don’t go I need a friend! but daren’t. She was pensive. It’s time to go to ask for help. I may as well be dead as exist like this. Life is to be enjoyed not endured! I’d forgotten what it’s like to experience kindness.
 She took out her phone and dialled a Refuge!

© AS Bielby October 2011
                        

This is an open letter to Jessica Bell.


This is an open letter to Jessica Bell.                                                                      15th January 2013.

Jessica Bell - author

Dear  Jessica,
I hope you read this. I received a copy yesterday of your new little book ‘Show and Tell in a Nutshell’ having been advised to buy it by my good friend Glynis. What an impact it’s had on my writing life already. I’m buzzing!! Having just read the introduction I felt very hopeful that I too could master this. When you’re starting you imagine that established authors haven’t had the same problems; they're super human.

I’ve been reading the content and although I know I’ll have to work hard at it, with this little book at my side, my writing will improve. I feel so empowered this morning. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to help others who are struggling with the concept.

I go to the Paphos Writers’ Group on a Thursday and will be warmly recommending this book to them.

You really are a star!!
Warm Regards and Best wishes for 2013.
Annette

Saturday 5 January 2013

Bambi


Bambi

My usually inquisitive, noisy dog had stopped dead in his tracks, pricked his ears forward, listening intently. What on earth had made him act so out of character? I drew abreast of him and looked through the trees to a clearing; there, in the dappled sunlight, was a young girl humming to herself, dancing gaily. She was tripping through the leaves with the sunshine making her hair shine gold. She didn’t see us; as I didn’t want to break her moment I put a restraining hand on the dog’s collar and said,
Shhhhhh!!,’ to him softly.

Being very obedient, he sat putting his head on the ground waiting for my next command. She enjoyed the freedom of the woods and had a strange fey quality about her. I thought, she’s so lighthearted, playful ,without a care, she should be called Bambi. The moment was so magical I daren’t move in case I broke the spell. She danced, humming to herself for a few more moments, then picked up the basket she’d abandoned on the ground and ran off laughing. The noise sounded like music to my ears as it was rather like the tinkling of bells.

I had started off my day walking, as usual with my dog, through the woods feeling very relaxed and happy. This apparition had unsettled me and I felt strangely let down when she disappeared. Had I really seen her or was she a figment of my imagination? Perhaps I had been daydreaming. My trusty hound and I walked on. I shook myself, get a grip, you aren’t in your dotage yet, of course she was there. I wonder who she is? I found it difficult to get her out of my mind. I wonder if I’ll see her again. I mused later on in the day.

            The next day I decided to walk again through that wood. I usually vary my route but this time I decided to go to the same place. My dog was being inquisitive as usual, trying to smell all sorts of creatures that had passed that way, occasionally bounding ahead when he thought there may be something more interesting ahead. He stopped again when he came to the clearing, just lay down and whimpered. He seemed strangely reluctant to go on. Today there was no-one there however, I was disappointed. It appeared that he had remembered the strange encounter; he too felt let down by her absence. After some coaxing I managed to get him to resume our walk. I went on into the village thinking that I would ask my friend the grocer if he knew who this lovely creature was. I gave him a good description as I remembered her clearly. He looked at me in surprise and said sadly,

            ‘You are describing the daughter of my friend the herbalist. She used to take her daughter into the woods when she was collecting berries and plants for her remedies. She didn’t go yesterday though and certainly wouldn’t have been on her own. She died yesterday morning of an inexplicable illness about the time you thought you saw her.’
A tingling sensation went down my spine, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
I just said in reply,
            ‘How dreadful. Perhaps I had a senior moment.’

            I know what I saw!

© AS Bielby January 2013