Confessions of an Author

The Sword Pierced Heart  The Sword Pierced Heart by Anne E. Thompson I watched my son die today. My beautiful boy, beaten, battered and left to die. And my heart broke. I held my cloak close and I remembered the weight of him as a babe, like a boulder on my hip, wriggling to be free, to run and jump and climb. Those legs will run no more. Those limbs, I was so proud when they grew. I remember when he grew as tall as me, then taller even than Joseph. I remember watching him, stretched out as he ate, those long limbs seemed to go on forever. “I grew him,” I used to think with pride. Those limbs will not sprawl relaxed in my home ever again. I watched his hands, the hands that used to pat me cheekily on the head when he’d grown tall. Those strong hands which laboured with wood, which helped me carry heavy loads, which lifted young children playfully. They are no longer strong. I saw them bang nails through the flesh, felt that I heard the sound of bone shattering ove...

Feeling Excited… (Cover photo by Chloe Hughes) I am very excited.  CLARA  has arrived from the printer, and all looks fine (books are never exactly how I envision them beforehand, due to the restrictions with ink colours, plus when I’m writing, I have no awareness of the thickness of the book). Now comes the scary bit, which is persuading people to actually read it! I do have a sense of urgency with Clara, it is a book which almost demanded to be written. I began, over a year ago, by writing the  Introduction , which was actually a point midway through the story. As I wrote it (originally so I could include it in the back of  JOANNA ) I had no idea who the characters would be, or how the story would unfold, or if it would even make sense in the wider context of the completed book. I figured it didn’t matter; if the story took off in a different direction, no one would care, and I have read ‘tasters’ in the back of books by famous authors which bear no res...

Are Women Possessions? 4 I have been reading through the Bible, from start to finish, and trying to blog about what I read as honestly as I can.  Obviously I am partly a product of my upbringing (not necessarily bad) but I wanted to look with fresh eyes, to try and take the words written and understand them. I ran into problems fairly early on. There was lots I didn’t understand, and then, in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, I came across things that just seemed wrong. Completely wrong. Which caused bit of a problem. How could I challenge the words, spoken by a prophet of God, as a direct quotation from God? Either I wasn’t understanding something fundamental, or the words of God were not something I felt was fair. It did not reflect my own understanding of God, a God who is just, loving, fair. The words reflected a God who I did not want to know. Let me give you some examples. Now, I am a woman, but actually, this isn’t about female issues. I would think the laws were u...

When Hate came to stay…… Hate Came to Stay by Anne E Thompson Yesterday, Hate came to stay. Uninvited, he knocked on the door and when I opened it, to see who was calling, he burst in, pushing past me. I knew he had visited other houses, he had caused damage and hurt and anger. But he had never visited me before. He came yesterday. He went into the kitchen and smashed all my plates. He over-turned chairs and tore my cushions. He punched my children and spat at my dog. When I went near he scratched me and made me bleed. The house was dark, he closed all the curtains. I was hurt and frightened and angry. But worse, worse than the pain and fear and broken china, was the slime. Every time I tried to stop him, to catch him, hurt him, trap him, he produced more slime. It came off him in silver trails, sticking to everything he touched, dirty, germ filled, slime. It made me change. I began to be like him. I wanted to punch him, cut him, hurt him. Others came to my door...

Pumpkin Story Pumpkin Story Once upon a time, there was a farmer. He was old and wise, and he knew all about growing plants. One fine spring day, he took a long flat seed, and planted it in the soil. Month after month, the seed grew. First it grew a small shoot, then leaves, then more shoots until it was a whole plant. The rain watered the plant, the sun gave it energy, and the roots grew deep into the soil. One day, a flower appeared, then a tiny fruit. The farmer watched and waited. The tiny fruit grew bigger and bigger, until one day, there was a fat round pumpkin. Then the farmer took his sharp knife, and cut the pumpkin and carried it inside. Inside his house, the farmer looked at the pumpkin. It looked very beautiful. It was orange and shiny and round. The farmer sighed. He took his sharp knife, and cut a hole in the top. It hurt the pumpkin. Inside, the pumpkin wasn’t so pretty. The pumpkin was full of gunky mess, and the farmer knew that if he left it there, i...

King David and The Good Wife 1 Often, as I read the Bible, I come to a passage which makes no sense. Something happens, there is a reaction to it, and you are left wondering why. In the olden days (of not so long ago) people would have heavy tomes sitting on bowed bookshelves, and would pull down a version of their favourite commentary to investigate. Today we have Google. However, the problem with Google, is that usually, you have no idea who has written something. Sometimes it’s difficult to know if someone is giving their own opinion, which is no more valid than your own, or if they are Biblical scholars and know what they’re talking about. And they write with so much authority! Take a passage I read recently (as part of my task of reading through the whole Bible – which is taking me months). I read an account of King David, before he died, telling his minions to take a census of Israel and Judah, because he wanted to know how many people he ruled. (End of 2 Samu...