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This week I was slung out of The Hay Festival!
For anyone who isnt aware, Hay-on-Wye is the little Mid Wales town that has become world reknown for second hand books. About twenty years or so ago, a few enthusiasts were chatting over a beer and decided to start The Hay Literary Festival. It is now a huge event with people coming from all over the world to speak or to listen or just to read books in the sunshine (rain).
I thought, where better to gather interest in voting for my novel Cold Enough to Freeze Cows to win The Peoples Book Prize? So, I bribed the children to wear t-shirts that I had printed up for them and we set off in the rain to speak to people.
My plan was for the children to smile sweetly at people to attract their attention. I would then nobble them and ask them to vote for me. To a point it worked. But then the girls started to get bored and then a bit wild, spinning around poles, rolling along the corridors and getting the baby to crawl through the wet grass. My back-up plan was to feed them junk to keep them occupied for another ten minutes.
Being rather a high-brow event, I am still convinced that I wouldnt have got thrown out if I had fed the children oatmeal biscuits or a tub of chopped-up fruit, but my mistake was to give them crisps and horrible chocolatey mini-rolls. It was only a matter of time before Security was called, and I was ejected for unauthorised canvassing...
Therefore, in place of the votes I didnt manage to get from The Hay Festival, I would like to ask whether the good people of Americymru might consider voting for me, please? If so, the website is http://www.peoplesbookprize.com/finalist.php and the book is Cold Enough to Freeze Cows . If anyone does vote, please let me know and your name will be put in my grand prize draw to win a signed copy!
Many thanks! I havent won anything since the 50metre skip in 1978
Hear West Coast Eisteddfod Event Coordinator/Curator Lorin Morgan Richards on BBC Wales, interviewed by presenter Roy Noble:-
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b011k23z/Roy_Noble_06_06_2011/
( Start listening at 1.12.20 approx )
Top level intervention ensures the first ever Pakistani soloist can perform at Llangollen
By Ceri Shaw, 2011-06-07
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| Revd John Weir, Zeshan, H.E. Saleh al Ghurg |
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| Llangollen Eisteddfod's Parade of Nations |
Gemini, sign of the Twins. Those born under this sign think they can live two lives at once.
Yes, I am a Gemini--with multiple personalities. I hate not having something to do, but sometimes I overwhelm myself and impose impossible deadlines no left-handed person would expect. (Since left-handed people are the only ones in their right mind...)
Right, then. I'm working on compiling my research on Welsh immigrants in the Southern Arizona Territory into a non-fiction book, just to have a number of them together. Thought I had it all organized. But no...double verification of information to be sure it's accurate is slowing me down. Plus, I want pictures wherever I can. Ah, therein lies the rub. The Arizona Historical Society owns a ton of photos but charges--get this--$38 per photo for publication. The usage fee is higher for online publication. Oh and did I mention this has to be paid upfront and they will take "six to eight weeks" to get them ready? Huh? What's to get ready? You have them cataloged, I'm requesting them by number, you pull them out, scan them onto a 10-cent cd and put them back into the file. At the absolute earliest, if I request and PAY this week, I could have the cd in hand by July 20th? And they wonder why people cop them off the internet... I won't, but geez. Still, I found photos in the archives I've not seen anywhere before, so I'll just have to cough up the dough somehow by Thursday, since the research facilities are only open on Tuesdays and Thursdays thanks to the State of Arizona's budget restraints.I REALLY wanted to have this in print by the West Coast Eisteddfod, but...we'll see.
Working on my Revolutionary Era novel is progressing slowly but I've found some excellent information to incorporate. Plus I met with my friend, Ibby whose ancestor is the adventurer on whom we are basing the story.
Marketing my novel continues . It is the Never Ending Story. Blog posts, contests, Facebook--and now people are encouraging me to do Twitter? And Within The Mists , the short story involving selchies, is scheduled for release in July, so I need to get the word out about that one. At least Dragon & Hawk is now out in print so feel free to tell your local bookstore to order from Champagne Books-- they'll get a bookstore discount.
Gecko Gals Ink, our author group in Tucson, is in the throes of planning a writing seminar on October 1, 2011. This is our pay it forward effort for writers in the area who need information. We're calling this one "Book Bound: Getting it Together & Getting Published." Lots of information to condense and share, but I have time to do that a little later.
O'r gorau, 'te, time to get back to the "day off" chores of laundry, errands, and cooking before I have a Gecko Gal meeting and my guys have a baseball game tonight. My son is pitching--and I'm going to miss it. (But I'll get to another of his starts later this season, promise. I didn't miss any Little League or Pony League starts, and only a couple of high school games due to work, so he can cut me a little slack here! 
)
And tomorrow is another day writing physician reports and manipulating people--oh I mean adjusting spines. heh heh...
Jude
'May I introduce Lucy Walter?' asked Lady Herbert.
Lucy found herself gazing into a pair of the deepest brown eyes she had ever seen.Whilst she could not claim the man was handsome, yet his presencewas compelling.Furthermore, she had felt him watching her every move that evening.
'Robert Sydney at your sevice, Ma'am'.
'Colonel Robert Sydney', added Lady Herbert.
Lucyfelt her hand being grasped firmly, herpulse quickening and a faint flush spreading across her cheeks.
Noticing her consternation, her companion extended his arm.'It is somewhat warm in here. May I suggest we repair to the balcony?'
Casting an apologetic glance in the direction of her godmother, who smiled fondly at her, Lucy allowed her new acquaintanceto escort her through the large doors at the far end of the ballroom and outside into the cool evening air.
Candlelight from crystal chandeliers spilled out through the long windows,shining on the canal below.There was just enough light for Lucy to seesomething was amusing Robert Sydney.
'So. I am in the presence of Lucy Walter. Shame that my brother, Algernon, was forced to put duty to his country before his own pleasure'.
Lucy's heart sank. It was as she feared. 'Algernon Sydney?' she whispered.
'Aye, the very same Algernon Sydney.'
Seeing Lucy's distress, he pulled her to him, roughly.
'The Algernon Sydney who paid your father fifty broad pieces so that he could own you'.
Lucy bit her lip and lowered her head.
'Don't play the innocent with me', he warned.
Putting his finger beneath her chin, he forced her face upwards and was about to lower his mouth on hers when instinct came to her rescue. Robert Sydney was too large for her to push away. Instead, she brought her foot down firmly on his toes.
Yelping, he fell back against the wall. Lucy dare notlook for a moment, but when she did she saw that Colonel Sydney was laughing helplessly.
After a whilehe recovered himself. 'I'll say this for you, Lucy Walter, you are a spirited wench'.
When I published my novelabout Lucy Walter, my husband asked, 'Do you think anyone is going to be interested in her?' As it happened, many people were.
Lucyis believedto be the ancestress of Diana, Princess of Wales. Lucy's portrait is in Althrop, the ancestral home of the Spencer family andanother portrait of Lucy hangs in Scolton Manor, now a museum, ten miles outof Haverfordwest.
When the book came out, the local bookshop was crowded with people purporting to be related to Lucy. Many of them came from Rosemarket, a village a few miles out of Haverfordwest, where the Walter familyspent some time in the 'Great House'.
I'm sometimes asked how closely haveI kept to Lucy's lifestory. I have researched in the Record Office, Haverfordwest and in the National Library of Wales andI have readcontemporary accounts of her life. My novel followsLucy'sstory in chronological order, tying it in with Charles's life as far as I can trace it. Therefore, I call my work 'faction': fiction based on fact. (I have made upintimate conversations, but I follow Lucy and the Court to The Hague, keeping the dates correct, for example).
I have atheory, and facts of a sort, to support my belief that Lucy and Charles were married in Saint Thomas a Beckett Church, Haverfordwest. Why was the Marriage Register for that particular year requisitioned by Parliament and returned with the relevant page missing?
But problems arise: When Lucy was eighteen, her rogue of a father sold her to the PuritanColonel, Algernon Sydney, for fifty broad pieces of gold. Before Algernon could claim Lucyhe was calledaway by his regiment and she was passed to his brother, Colonel Robert Sydney. It could now be argued that Charles and Lucy met andfell in love inThe Hague. Later, she gave birth to their son.
Charles acknowledged James as his son and supported Lucy, James and her daughter, Mary, whom she had by another man.
I wanted to write about Lucy.I felt her presence strongly when working on the book.Lucy died in her late twenties, a prostitute, destitute,on the streets of Paris and Charles paid for her funeral.He had many loves and mistresses, the most famous of whom was Nell Gwynn, the orange seller, but His first love was his Welsh mistress, Lucy Walter, and I wanted itacknowledged.
Lucy Walter's father, William, was a rogue. He inherited a fortune, which should have enabled him to keep his family in some comfort, but he was a spendthrift and rumour had it that he was virtually penniless.
Because of his wifeElizabeth'sCarbery connections, Roch Castle was requisitioned by the Cavaliers and William Walter was obliged toprovidehospitality he could not afford.He sent the king a bill, which was considered bad form andmeant he would never gain preferment. Furthermore, he had fathered two illegitimate children who were cared for by Elizabeth, so the household wasnot harmonious.
The role of unmarried women during this time was difficult. Apart frombecoming companions to elderly relatives, there were few genteel occupations available. Many whiled away their timeby embroidering garments or repairing household linen.
Lucy's father had a house in Covent Garden, London, which the family visited and this was how William Walter became acquaintedwith the Percy family, whose sons were Puritan Colonels in the pay of Cromwell.
Walter struck a bargain with Algernon Percy, agreeing to sell his daughter, Lucy,for fifty broad pieces of gold, effectively making the eighteen year old girl Percy's mistress. However, before Algernon claimed his share of the bargain, his regiment called him away and she was passed to his brother Robert.
By now, Charles Stuart wasin The Hague, where he had taken refuge form the Civil War. Lucy, too, travelled to The Hague soon after, under the assumed name of Mistress Barlow. (I am unsure if she was under the protection of Colonel Robert Percy ormerely a camp follower.) However, she renewed her frienship with Charles and soon they were lovers.They settled into a comfortable relationship, Charles delighting in Lucy and his infant son and Lucy calling him her 'Black Boy', for he was darkly handsome in a swarthy way.
Charles had grave matters to attend to and was often away andLucy found it difficult to be faithful andtook other lovers.We'll talk about some of them tomorrow.
I've been telling you about Saint Thomas's Green in Haverfordwest, where the May and October fairs were held. Vagrants, hobboes, knife grinders, horse dealers and all manner of hobble de hoi made their way here twice a year in times gone by and we did, too, until it was moved.
Nearby is the Norman Church of Saint Thomas a Beckett where Emma, my elder daughter, was married twenty five years ago. My twin grandsons were also Christened here.
Itis in this Church that Lucy Walter and Charles Stuart, the future Charles 11, were said to have been married, when both were sixteen. This fact may seeminconsequential, but ifit is true, Lucy's descendants, the Buccleuchs, are the rightful heirs to the throne of England, through the bloodline of her son, James, Duke of Monmouth.
Let's go back.Lucy Walter wasbrought up in Roch Castle, eight miles from Haverfordwest, on theSaint David's road.John Evelyn, the diarist, described her as a 'beautiful, browne, bolde creature', after he had once shared a carriage with her. Apparently, hegave her the eye and sheheld his gaze, which unsettled him somewhat.
Although not of the aristocracy, Lucywas well connected. Elizabeth, her mother, was a cousinof Richard Vaughan, second Earl of Carbery, who lived in Golden Grove (Gelli Aur), Llandeilo. And it was here, in Golden Grove, that Lucy and the young Charles were said to have met when both were fourteen. Undoubtedly theymust have made a big impression on each other if they married two years later. (People married much younger then because theaverage lifespan was about forty years.)
Lucy and Charles's story begins during the 1640's whenCivil War ravished the country. This occurred because Charles 1, the young Charles's father, believed in the Divine Right of Kings. To him thismeant that he could rule without reference toParliament. Specifically, he did not need Parliaments's permission to raise taxes.
The country was divided. Whole families were split.Those who supported the the king were known as Royalists. Those who opposed him, led by Oliver Cromwell, were Parlamentarians or Roundheads.
Asad, bloody time arose. OnJuly, 1644 the Parliamentarians won a decisivevictory at Marston Moor and Oliver Cromwell took this victoryas a sign that he was justified inopposingthe King.
We'll carry on with the story tomorrow (it'll be a bit racier) but lest we get too bogged down in history, here is the type of dish Lucy's cook might have prepared. (It comes from an eighteenth century handwritten cookbook I own, which originated in the Stratford, Worcestershire area (Shakespeare country, in fact).
'A Pretty Dish Of Eggs': Crack some eggs into a small dish, being careful not to break the yolks. Lay one on another. Drop on them some warm butter. Season. Strew some breadcrumbs over. Put in hot oven till the whites are firm. Serve with a wreath of parsley around them.
Lleuwen: Of course! Tan is basically what I've been working on this past year with Breton genius musician and producer, Vincent Guerin. I first came to Brittany to perform at the Lorient Interceltic Festival 2008 and once I immediately fell in love with the atmosphere and language because I think, in a way, I felt great empathy with the Breton people. Then in 2009 I was fortunate to win the Creative Wales Award by Arts Council Wales. I had agreed with the arts council that I'd write songs, record an album and then come back to Wales to perform this new material. I feel blessed to have received that award, and "Tan" would not have happened without it. We'll be performing at festivals in Brittany and Wales in the summer and it's great to have my new music out there at last.
AmeriCymru: You are currently living between Wales and Brittany. How strong is the Breton influence on the album and upon your life and music generally at the moment?
Lleuwen: It's pretty nuts spending so much time on a boat or plane but, to be honest, I don't really like to be settled in one place so I suppose this life suits me well. I live far from the city here in Brittany and this is a huge influence on my work. I would say that this new disc has an anti-urban sound to it almost. The production is rough and gritty and it was important for me to have it that way. It sounds quite wild too - lots of made-up weird open guitar tunings which I have grown to adore. I also play drums and zither on it and various pots and pans from the kitchen. I wanted sounds that the listener doesn't recognise as "instruments" . . . that way nothing comes between the listener and the music itself. I wanted to get to the core of it.
AmeriCymru: I read somewhere that you were learning Breton. How is that going? How does it differ from Welsh?
Lleuwen: Breton is a delicious language, close to nature and so interestingly similar to my own mother tounge . It s been one of the greatest adventures of my life to explore and learn this language and I continue to do so. I began leaning the language in the pubs of course and just by generally hanging out. When I first go t here I spent some time camping out in the garden of "Tavern Ty Elise" in Plouie. This pub has since burned down but will be reopening shortly and I can't wait. I need it's inspiration. It s a legendary bar, run by Merthyr Tudfil boy, Byn Walters. Anyway, I learned a lot of Breton there, just by listening, just by being. I then decided to study more seriously by doing a six month course with an association called Roudour. It was here I began to write a few Breton songs too . . .as well as my Welsh ones. Please check out Roudour's site if you can : www.roudour.com . Their courses are the best. A real mind-opener.
AmeriCymru: Can you tell our members a bit about your career, how you developed as a vocalist?
Lleuwen: My father is singer/songwriter Steve Eaves and so I don't remember a time where music, musicians and instruments were not around me. I suppose it's fair to say that I had a blesssed childhood in that way. I never really gave much thought to singing or making music. . . it just happend. It's just something I do. One of the uncomplicated things in life! I went on to study music and theatre and, through my studies, I got to go to Central College Iowa for six months. I loved it and met so many interesting people who were crazy about jazz (like myself!) I returned to Wales inspired to do do Welsh language jazz . . .something new to the scene. I joined jazz trio Acoustique and we released "Cyfnos" (which, translated means "Dusk") on Sain Records. I have since released three solo albums, all being different but at the same time, I still have the same goal, and that is to make NEW music. That is what I have, what I am and what I will always search for in life.
AmeriCymru: Can you explain something of the background and inspiration for the 'Duw a Wyr' album for our readers?
Lleuwen: It was 2004, a century after Evan Roberts's Welsh religious revival and I became interested in the hymns that were sung at the time. I met pianist Huw Warren that same year and we realized that we shared the same interest in these revivalist hymns and began to dig deeper into the project. I spent months and months researching into the hymns that were sung in the Bethesda area and was amazed by some the jewels I found - long lost tunes and mind-blowing poetry! My mother passed away the previous year and, looking back, I see that, through my research, I was also searching for answers. My mother introduced me to the Welsh hymns and I heard them from her radio set as I fell asleep every sunday night throughout my childhood. I find it difficult to listen back to "Duw a Wyr" because I hear my grief in the music. And although I cant' isten to it, I am proud of the record because I still receive letters today, from people who have been touched by the music.
AmeriCymru: Your album, 'Penmon,' was inspired by your home on Ynys Mon/Anglesey. can you tell us a little about the album?
Lleuwen: "Penmon" was my first adventure with the acoustic guitar! My first record as a songwriter and guitarist as well as singing. There was a sense of freedom in this and I continue along that road.
AmeriCymru: Where can people hear/buy your music online? Any live appearances in the near future?
Lleuwen: to buy the music, put my name into the search on www.sainwales.com and for live appearances, check out www.myspace.com/lleuwen
AmeriCymru: Any plans to visit the States?
Lleuwen: I hope. I wish.
AmeriCymru: Any final message for the members and readers of Americymru?
Lleuwen: thanks for listening. spread the love.
I was going to write aboutLucy Walter today.At a recentart viewing in Picton Castlesomeone enquiredif I was Lucy Walter. 'No, I'm not',I replied. (Unlike George Bush Junior, asked about the cancerous lesion removedfrom his face, I did not say, 'Thank you for asking').I also refrained from saying, 'Actually, no'.
I've got this niggleabout people who insert 'Actually' before giving anegative answer.I know why they do it, actually.
For instance, in answer to, 'Were you invited to the Royal wedding? or 'Didyour horse win the Derby yesterday?' they'll say, 'Actually, no',as though 'actually' impartsa dignity that saves them from looking likelosers.
So, no, I'm not Lucy Walter butwe dohave a fewthings in common. We were both married at sixteen and my husband is vaguely related to her and to Diana, Princess of Wales.
(He didn't know the last two factsuntil I unearthed them, butstill remembersour wedding anniversary, asking me to buy my own presents because he's run out of ideas- it is fifty one years, after all).
l'll talk about the 'bold, brown, beautiful' Lucy later in the weekandI can talk, because I've written a novel about her but, for now, I'll leave aside one of the the world's most alluring Welsh mistresses andcome toMum and Menna, instead.
Well, it was last Saturday afternoon. They'd both had their hair blow dried and wore their new outfits from Max Evans, Carmarthen. Bowls of chips, a plate of chicken Mayo sandwiches (no salad), tea and raisin muffins in the Ivy Bush and they were off tovisit a friend who lived ona farm two miles away. Menna, seventy five wasat the wheel ofherRenault Clio, Mum, eight eight,in her Calvin Klein sunglasses sitting by her.
They had gifts ofchocolates, a magazine and flowers.Kisses allroundand then they satin the garden. Bighugsand then it was time to go.It had been lovely. Theywere told not to leave it so long before calling again.
Driving down the narrow country laneon the way back to the mainroad, awhite van zoomed up behind them, tooting. Menna pulled into the next layby, so did the van. Menna's throat tightened. Mumthought of the Letterston maniac who shot at random. (He wasjailed for life last week).Mum usedthe side window to take down the van number. They sat there, uneasily, for a couple of minutes.
Menna pulled out again, so did the van. They tookthe Roman road back to Carmarthen,in an attempt to shake him off, but he followed. Menna's stomach lurched (newly widowed and recovering from an operation, she felt fragile) but there was only one thing for it. Shedrove straight to the local police station and gave the full details.They're investigating and I'll let you know.
PS Mum loves her mobile but did not want to over re-act. I've told them to never pull in again.
