Della Galton – Page 12 – Della Galton.

Famous Authors and Other Stuff

Written by Della Galton on May 21, 2013. Posted in News, Writing. 5 Comments

Well, first of all, I have to say this now because it might never happen again. I am famous. Look – it says so in the Bournemouth Echo. OK so it’s in very small print, in column four, halfway down, but it does say it – it really does say famous author 🙂 I’m still waiting for the ‘rich’ bit to kick in. But one out of two isn’t bad. And it’s my birthday today, so a nice day for it to happen!

This article arose because Pam Fudge and I are teaching ‘How to Write Your First Novel’ at Bournemouth Library on Saturday 25th May. Do come along and join us if you fancy it. We are both really looking forward to it. It’s at 10.00 till 4.00 and costs £30.00, which is pretty good value because you’ll get two ‘famous authors’ for the price of one!

While I’m on the subject of Saturday courses, if you’ve ever fancied writing a memoir – I’ll be teaching How to Write Your Memoir/autobiography (or biography for someone else) on the 15th June. That’s at Kinson Community Centre in Bournemouth, also 10.00 till 4.00. £35.00. (please email me if you’d like to book).

Saturday 25th is also the day my book, co written with Peter Jones is coming out. That’s called How to Eat Loads and Stay Slim. So the 25th is a red letter day for me. Gosh, showing my age there, red letter day is quite old fashioned, isn’t it.

How To Eat Loads and Stay Slim isn’t a diet book. Not in the traditional sense.

It’s a mixture of hard science (eg. how hunger really works), quick ‘cheats’ (eg. how to make zero fat chips), psychological techniques (eg. why focusing on your food as you eat is really important), ingenious strategies (eg. how to cut down on sugar without going cold turkey), and easy peasy recipes (eg. Peter’s roast potato & egg smashup breakfast or Della’s apple ginger clafouti) – all served up in an easy-to-digest, humourous read from authors who’ve been where you are now.

Each of thought provoking, scientifically-provable, idea has a STAR RATING. There are fifty four stars available. You get one just for buying the book! Collect enough and you’ll steadily increase your chances of being able to eat loads AND stay slim. Collect enough stars (thirty or more would be a good target to have) and we personally guarantee that a slim figure, coupled with a healthy but satiated appetite, are yours for the taking. No dieting required.

And most excitingly of all, my new novel, Ice and a Slice is coming out in paperback in June. How exciting is that. Ice and a Slice is already out for Kindle enabled devices and has 22 five star reviews. Here’s the latest one.

I hesitate to add yet another 5 star review to Ice and a Slice but I can’t help myself. Here is a novel which captured me after the first few pages – I just had to know whether the key character would end up in life’s gutter or if she would manage to climb out of the pit of despair. The surrounding characters, too, all slotted in perfectly; I occasionally loathed or loved them. But, of course, from reading her previous works I know Della Galton is blessed with the ability to take the reader on an emotional roller-coaster. It’s a ride well worth taking.

DeeJaye

I know I am blowing my own trumpet today (but it is my birthday). And to be honest, life has been pretty tough lately on a personal level. So it’s nice to have something good to report. Please forgive me. Writing has been my salvation, my escape and the one really good and consistent thing in my life this last year. Where would I be without it? To be honest I really don’t want to answer that question. I certainly wouldn’t be very sane.

And I have enough friends reading this blog, who I know have been through some very tough personal stuff too, and have found writing to be a golden thread. So let’s hope this year is going to be a brilliant one for us all.

Thank you for reading. And happy writing. 🙂

Four Myths About Writing Short Stories for Magazines

Written by Della Galton on May 17, 2013. Posted in Short stories for magazines, Writing. 17 Comments

Writing stories for magazines is easy – right?

Er – no – we all know that’s a myth. If you’re reading my blog, then chances are, you’ll know it from personal experience.

Once you have sold a few stories to magazines, they just buy everything you send – right?

Er – no – they still only buy the ones they think are perfect for them.

If an editor asks you to rewrite a story, they will then buy the resulting rewrite, won’t they?

Er – no – they wont, not unless it’s perfect for them second time round, or third, or fourth.

Once you break in there’s loads of money in it.

Er – no!

Just to illustrate these four points – and one more very important point I thought I would share with you the journey of a magazine story I wrote. Out of courtesy I’m not going to name the actual magazines mentioned in the following examples. I will give them pseudonyms, so please don’t think there are four new magazine markets out there you haven’t heard of -there aren’t – but the actual facts are true.

On 8 December 2011 I wrote a story (let’s call it A Special Day) and sent it to that ‘well known magazine’ Women Everywhere. On 20 January 2012, their editor sent it back saying they liked the story but not the ending, could I possibly rewrite it and they’d take another look.

“Of course,” I said, and offered them A Special Day mark two on 26 January, 2012. A week later they sent it back saying, sorry, we’re not keen on this ending, please could you try again.

“Of course,” I said, and offered them A Special Day mark three on 17 February 2012. A week later they sent it back saying, sorry, we’re not keen on this ending either. Thanks for trying.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity,” I said, and (not to be deterred) on 12 March 2012 I sent mark three of my story to another well known magazine called Women Worldwide.

They ignored it for several months. I didn’t chase it, but on 24 January 2013 I sent a different version (mark two) to Women Worldwide, with a note mentioning they’d had a previous version, but this was new and improved. A month later they sent back the new and improved version with a polite rejection.

Not to be deterred – I’m quite stubborn, me – I looked at all my versions and decided that the mark two version was the best and I sent it to another well known magazine, let’s call them, Universal Woman. A week or so later they sent it back with the comment, we enjoyed this but it’s not for us.

Again, not to be deterred – did I mention I was stubborn? – I sent the mark two version to yet another magazine called All Women on 5 March, 2013. On 8 May, 2013 they sent it back with the comment, “We quite like this, but could you change the end?”

“Of course,” I said, and rewrote the end for the fourth time (yes there was actually an ending I hadn’t thought of yet) and I resubbed it on the morning of the 15 May, 2013. On the evening of the 15 May, their editor came back to me and said, “Yes please, we’ll buy that one.”

“Thank you very much,” I said. “That’s excellent news.”

Alleluia might have been a more accurate description of what I was feeling at that moment. That story had started life in December 2011, had been given four rewrites and finally sold in May 2013.

This kind of thing doesn’t happen all that often, thankfully, but it’s not unheard of, and I think illustrates quite well what I mentioned earlier. Writing for magazines is not easy, it doesn’t matter how many they’ve bought from you before it doesn’t mean they will buy your next one, and they won’t necessarily buy your 2nd or 3rd rewrite, even if they ask you to do them. And – no I did not get paid a fortune for the story when I finally sold it. But I did get paid!

I would like to end on a note of hope. If you really do think a story has got what it takes, then don’t give up on it. There is every chance you will sell it eventually. And it is – I have to say – very, very very satisfying when you do!

If you would like to know more about writing and selling short stories – please do check out my book, The Short Story Writer’s Toolshed here.

The Truth About What Happened at my Parents’ Ruby Wedding Anniversary by SJ Crosse, currently starring in Ice and a Slice by Della Galton

Written by Della Galton on May 14, 2013. Posted in Ice and a Slice. Leave a Comment

Hello everybody. Here I am – finally – it took me a little longer than I expected to hack into Della Galton’s blog, but I managed it eventually. Da daaa!

Della Galton, who shall hereby be known as Teetotaller Big Knickers (TBK for short) doesn’t know I’m here so I’m going to have to be quick.

Right then. Now, as I’m sure, you all know, being an intelligent lot (We wordsmiths are very intelligent, aren’t we) that the reason I’m here is so I can set the record straight and tell you the truth, the absolute truth, and nothing but the truth, (rather than the, quite frankly, libellous version in Ice and a Slice) about what happened at my parents’ ruby wedding anniversary party.

Am I really here? (Pinches self to check) Ouch! Did that too hard! (note to self to pinch lighter in future, or somewhere it doesn’t hurt, or maybe have a little restorative G&T, I mean T, I mean TEA prior to pinching…) Never mind, where was I?

Ah yes, setting the record straight. Now, if you do happen to have read Ice and a Slice (I’m the star, did I mention that?), well all I can say is that I hope you didn’t believe what you read. I’m not as bad as TBK makes out, you know. (nowhere near) In fact I hardly ever drink as a rule (except tea of course). And all that stuff she said I got up to at my parents’ Ruby Wedding Party. Well it’s nonsense, of course. Or at best, grossly exaggerated. I mean, I’m sure you didn’t believe a word of it, did you J

For a start I did NOT wreck my niece’s chances of a bit of how’s your father with her boyfriend.

That absolutely did NOT happen. I would never do anything so insensitive as to barge into someone’s private bedroom and cause a big scene (even if they weren’t supposed to be in there and it was dark and I thought they were someone else.) I’m talking rhetorically now, of course, because that bit didn’t happen.

Basically, the true story is that Tom (he’s my husband) and I went to my parents’ Ruby Wedding Anniversary. And just for the record, I did not make lists of excuses not to go.

I did not – and never would – invent a whole pile of reasons so I didn’t have to be in the same room as my sister for five years. I would never do such a thing. I l…l…lo….loathe, I mean love my sister. I LOVE my sister to bits in properly sisterly very nice fashion, as all sisters should!

Anyway, we went to the party, and it was all very lovely, and everyone got on frightfully well, and we all sat around and ate egg and cress sandwiches and cheese and cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off and we drank lovely big cups of tea. (I love tea).

And there was no drunkenness (apart from the darts players – their wives were the worst – oh and my aunt Evie – she’s an old soak!). And there was no lying down under the fridge (certainly not by me). And that pea story that TBK told you – you know about the escapee pea – there’s a pun there somewhere, escapee pea – escapea – da daaa. I’m a whizz with words, you know. I teach poetry and a pint on Wednesday evenings, and we have such fun. And we all sit around reading poetry and drinking pints of – um – tea.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes the party, well all the stuff TBK wrote about what I did in the book. It’s all complete nonsense. Actually, I’ll let you into a secret, shall I? It’s TBK who’s the drunk, not me. You should see her when she gets going – dances on tables and everything. (And she can’t dance either, but she thinks she can.) It’s hilarious – if ever you get the chance to watch her, you know if she invites you to a party or anything, do go. And take your camera.

I’d go but there wouldn’t be any point. I don’t drink, you see. I’m practically teetotal – did I mention that?

Ha! So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, TBK Galton.

(Oh – and if you want to read TBK’s version of events – then you’ll have to buy the book. Ice and a Slice it’s called.) Click here to check it out. Bits of it are quite good. The bits that show me in a good light like when I’m – um – helping people with their charity work and – um – knitting jumpers for poor people. I do a lot of knitting in the book. It’s on page – um – 45 the knitting bit. (I think.)

But bear in mind – the party bit is all lies, lies, lies. Complete nonsense. I shall be doing more setting the record straight very soon. Watch out for me in blogs around the country! Oh, and if you want to book me, you’ll have to go through my agent, TBK (Della Galton), or you could just sneakily get in touch via my Facebook Page, Ice and a Slice (which she’s not allowed on). Or email me at SarahJaneCrosse@Googlemail.com. Or tweet me @SarahJaneCrosse. Look forward to hearing from you very soon.

Bye for Now. SJ xxx

Me, a Mic and a Darkened Room!

Written by Della Galton on May 8, 2013. Posted in Me on the radio - eek!, Writing. 8 Comments

A little while ago I was lucky enough to get the chance to record my own book, How to Eat Loads and Stay Slim, for Audible.co.uk. Wow, what an experience that was! It took place in the tiny windowless studio you see in the picture. Just me, a mic and an iPad – oh and a glass of apple juice – more of that later.

Let’s start from the beginning. It seems an awfully long time ago that Peter Jones and I decided to write How to Eat Loads and Stay Slim. It was one of those books where we actually started with the title. We were chatting on the phone one day, Peter was telling me about his How to Do Everything and Be Happy book, and I said, what a great title. It could only be better if it was called How to Eat Loads and Stay Slim. And there you have it, the conception of a book. So we wrote it.

Anyway, back to the recording. We were lucky enough to get offered a contract from Audible, the world’s largest provider of spoken word entertainment. And we were also lucky enough to be asked to record it. (It’s a dual viewpoint book – I do the sensible stuff – Peter does the – er – whackier stuff.) So we both went along to Rushforth Media’s studios, in London where it all happens.

We were assigned a studio and an editor each. The editors were in separate studios, but connected to you by microphone. Mine was called Alice and she was lovely. How it works is that as you read, your editor listens, and if you stumble or miss out a word she stops you and asks you to go back. Reading your own book should be easy as pie (note the fitting simile, tee hee) but it isn’t of course. Because you know you are being recorded it’s scary as anything! Suddenly your tongue feels too big for your mouth and you have this urge to pant (with fear) which wouldn’t be good on an audio book, well at least not on the type we were doing. And,then there is the ongoing thought of, did this sentence I wrote really need to be this long?

We’d hardly got started when Alice said, “Sorry, Della, your throat is clicking.”
“My throat is what?”
“It’s clicking. Quite normal. Apple juice will sort it out. I’ll just get you some.”
“Um, thanks.”

Now for the uninitiated (as I was) throat clicking is something that we can all do sometimes when we’re speaking. Mostly it’s inaudible, but it can be heard on a sensitive mic – and – apparently apple juice sorts it out. And it did. You learn something new every day!

Once the throat clicking was resolved and I got going I was quite relaxed. The only other hold ups we had were extraneous noises, such as a door slamming somewhere in the building – or me moving too far from the mic – whereupon Alice would stop me and we would just re-record that line. Or occasionally I would come across a word I didn’t know how to pronounce. This is an occupational hazard I find with writing – I’m much better at writing our language than speaking it. Does bechamel have a ‘ch’ or a ‘sh’ in the middle? Yes, I know now, thanks, it’s besh-a-mel. Alice used pronunciation websites to check any queries. Interestingly, there were often several ‘right’ ways to pronounce words – which was quite reassuring.

Anyway, the book got recorded – it took less than a day – which is fast apparently. And Peter and I were exhausted by the end of it. But we both agreed it was a brilliant experience. We wouldn’t have missed it for anything. We can’t wait to hear the finished result. Especially the bits where Peter and I argue a point – as we both had to record our halves of the argument without the benefit of hearing the other person.

But we will have to wait to hear it. Although not that long because How to Eat Loads and Stay Slim comes out in audio on 24 May 2013. It will also be published in ebook format on 25 May. How exciting. Here’s the link to check it out.

And finally, just to add, if you ever get the chance to record your own book – then go for it. It’s a wonderful experience that I feel very privileged to have had. And being paid to do it was the icing on the cake – so to speak!

How to eat loads and stay slim – our cover revealed!

Written by Della Galton on April 27, 2013. Posted in How to Eat Loads and Stay Slim. 1 Comment

“Please do not adjust your sets. There is nothing wrong with your computer screen.”

Ta daaa! It is with great pleasure that I can finally show you the cover for How To Eat Loads And Stay Slim!

If you’re a reader of Peter’s book How To Do Everything and Be Happy this might seem oddly familiar. And so it should. The original book jacket for Peter’s ‘Happy’ book was very similar – different colours, different silhouette, but the same basic layout and iconic star burst background. It proved a popular cover, but when Peter and I came to think about this book there was another very good reason why it was time to dust off the old design and give it a new lease of life.

Stars!

Just like it’s predecessor, throughout the new book you’ll come across various ‘Action Points’. The idea is that you stop, address the action, and then continue. But where ‘Slim’ differs is that each of the Action Points has a ‘star rating’.

You earn one star just for buying the book (did you spot that line of blue text along the bottom?), and with every additional star you acquire you will steadily increase your chances of being able to eat loads AND stay slim. Collect enough stars (thirty or more would be a good target to have) and Peter and I personally guarantee that a slim figure, coupled with a healthy but satiated appetite, are yours for the taking. And all you have to do to earn a star is complete an action point.

Back to the cover though. Peter and I can’t really take any credit for what you see before you. Both covers were designed by Ellen – who having taken our suggestions into consideration, ignored them completely and blew our socks off with the colourful creation you see today.

Ellen is an extremely talented young woman. Together with her business partner and fellow wordsmith Dan (hello Dan), they work for an advertising agency that’s going places. As well as the rather funky clothing company extragged.com

To finish up I thought I’d share with you the following video that Ellen helped create for Sir Paul McCartney (to be played behind him and the band during the American leg of his world tour)! It basically involved locking Ellen in a room for two weeks with a huge blackboard and getting her to draw whatever came to mind to the song Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, with occasional input on the phone from Sir Paul himself. The result is pretty stunning. Like I said, talented young woman.

If you’re reading this in your email or you can’t see the video – click here

How To eat Loads and Stay Slim will be available May 2013. To find out more visit the website here, the facebook page here, and the twitter feed here.

Writing Your Memoir – is it worth it?

Written by Della Galton on April 25, 2013. Posted in Writing. 2 Comments

One of the questions I get asked a lot – both by my students, and via my Dear Della page in Writers’ Forum – is I’ve written a memoir, or I want to write my memoir, how easy is it to get it published?

The short answer is that it’s almost impossible to get a memoir published unless you are:

a) a celebrity

b) have an extraordinary story to tell (this incidentally needs to be along the lines of, my dad came from the planet Zog and my mother was a unicorn.)

OK, I was being rather tongue in cheek about that example, but you really must have an extraordinary story these days, at least you must have if you want to get the attention of a big publisher.

If you just have an ordinary life with a few extraordinary events thrown in, it’ll be tough to interest a publisher. However – and this is a big however – in my experience writing your memoir or autobiography is one of the most satisfying, wonderful and cathartic things you can do.

So to answer the question I posed in the title of this blog. Yes it’s worth it.

Write it for the joy of writing it. Write it for yourself and your family. Write it for love. And if you do find a publisher then great. And if you don’t and you really want it to be published, then it’s not hard, these days, to publish it yourself.

That’s my take on writing a memoir and autobiography anyway. And if you would like to learn more. I am doing a Saturday Course on how to get started. How to Write Your Memoir/Autobiography is on 4 May, 13 in Bournemouth.

Please do email me or post a comment for further details. And happy writing!

Keep on Learning

Written by Della Galton on April 24, 2013. Posted in Guest Posts, Writing conferences & schools. 3 Comments

Today, I am delighted to welcome my guest blogger and friend, the lovely Kath McGurl, owner and author of Womag. Kath is talking about writing classes.

Kath has just written a fabulous little writing book called Ghost Stories and How to Write Them. Do please check it out here.

Keeping on Learning

I’ve been attending Della’s evening writing classes for about six years now. You might think there is nothing new to learn about writing after so much time, but that’s not true. We may sometimes cover topics I’ve done before, but we will cover them in a different way and every time I get something new from it. The classes are always inspiring and I come away buzzing with ideas.

My book, Ghost Stories and How to Write Them, owes a lot to Della’s classes. Two of the stories contained in it were originally written for our class end-of-term competitions which are always great fun. One is Play With Me about a child-ghost in a swimming pool. For this competition we had to write a story with a single setting. The other is Letting Go, for which we had to put our main character out of his or her comfort zone. I came up with the idea of a reclusive ghost, who was forced to share the space he haunted with another ghost.

And a third story in my book began life as a writing-class exercise. In these exercises, Della sets a kitchen timer and gives us six minutes to write. She might set us to write the start of a story or a piece of characterisation or a chunk of dialogue – always something different. My story What’s Up with Benjy?, in which a ghostly dog needs to be laid to rest, began as a paragraph or two scribbled furiously in my notebook for one of these exercises.

So if you’re serious about writing and have the chance to attend writing classes locally, I’d strongly urge you to do so for the continual inspiration you’ll get from them. If there are none locally, consider joining an online class, or going to one-off workshops at the weekends. They’re always worth it!

And Della says…

Thanks so much for all that, Kath, and yes I couldn’t agree more. I teach writing classes now, but I also attend one as a student. I started going twenty six years ago and I have no plans to stop. It’s a great place to get inspired, check out whether my stories work before an editor sees them, and get help with endings of stories, which are the bane of my life.

The chip of ice in every writer’s heart

Written by Della Galton on April 21, 2013. Posted in Writing. 12 Comments

It was Graham Greene, wasn’t it, who said that every writer should have a chip of ice inside his heart. This has more than one interpretation, some of them not very nice, but I used to think it meant this: however tragic our situation, or someone else’s, there is a detached part of us that is storing up details so that we may one day write about it.

Does this make us callous? Hard hearted? Exploitative? Should we be ashamed of ourselves? Well, that’s debatable. Do I do this? Yes, I can’t help it, I’m a writer. I sell emotion. (as all writers must).

But I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and I’d like to put forward another theory of mine. Actually it’s not a theory; for me it’s a fact.

Writing about emotions that I’ve felt, especially grief or sadness or anger, is immensely cathartic. I write about them because if I didn’t I would go stark raving mad – OK madder than I already am!

I have to write these things out of my system, it helps me to stay sane. It helps me to cope with the awful things life can throw at you sometimes.

And actually I think it helps others too – I write out my emotions in fiction and on the whole I write fiction with upbeat endings. I hope my readers will find identification in what I write and find some comfort in my stories. I really do – and, as it happens, I have many letters from readers who have said that this is exactly how it works.

Gosh, I didn’t know I had such a bee in my bonnet (sorry for the cliché) about this. I would love to know what you think.

Issue Led Stories

Written by Della Galton on April 10, 2013. Posted in Short stories for magazines, Tips on writing, Writing. 10 Comments

Issue led stories are controversial – or can be? Should we write them? Especially for magazines. Or should we stick to nice safe subjects like weddings and car boot sales and summer balls. Not that I’ve got anything against these subjects, I think I’ve sold stories about all of them – well possibly not a summer ball, must put that one on my list!

But – and I think I might have mentioned this – I also like writing about issues. Gritty issues. My students often ask me if there are any subjects that are taboo for magazines and the answer is that, no, I don’t think so. Well maybe some subjects are taboo for some magazines, but I’ve written lots of issue led stories. I’ve written (and sold) stories about: abortion, agoraphobia, anorexia, alcoholism (did I mention I just wrote a book about alcoholism called Ice and a Slice). Check it out here. You can even read the first chapter on the previous blog. I will shut up about Ice and a Slice soon, I promise!

I’ve also written about the death of pets or people, drugs, sexual abuse, nervous breakdowns, cancer, prisons – I’ve even slipped the odd quite saucy story past a magazine editor!

I think the key to writing issue led stories and selling them to magazines is to do it sensitively and also to give some hope. If you write about a gritty issue and then give it a really sad ending this might not be so successful.

You can of course write stories with more downbeat endings for competitions. But don’t be depressing even if you’re being downbeat.

I’ve just had one of my issue led stories (about anorexia) published on Morgen Bailey’s blog. If you’d like to check that out, please do take a look. Click here. It’s Flash Fiction so very short. In fact, I think that Flash Fiction works very well if you use a strong, gritty subject.

I’d love to know what other writers think.

Ice and a Slice, Chapter One

Written by Della Galton on April 5, 2013. Posted in first chapter, Ice and a Slice. 5 Comments

Just in case you’re short of some reading material on this lovely, brrrr, summer weekend, here’s Chapter One of my new novel, Ice and a Slice…

Chapter One

The first thing she noticed was the tinny metallic taste in her mouth. And then came the thirst. The thirst was so bad it had got into her dreams and forced her awake. No, not awake, aware – a slowly growing awareness which was coming, sense by sense.

Like sound. She could hear an echoey blur of footsteps and voices, which rolled in and out of her head. Closer by, something electronic beeped. Beep, beep, beep – steady and rhythmic – beep, beep beep.

Where was she? She opened her eyes and was hit by a wall of light. She shut them swiftly. She felt as though she was made of crystal, cool and brittle. She was a thin glass person who could be shattered by the slightest touch.

After a while she tried opening her eyes again. This time the room swam in various shades of light, but she managed to squint long enough to focus. To her left was a tall metal stand with a clear bag of fluid clipped to the top. To her right was some kind of machine, which seemed to be the source of the beeping. Close to her cheek was the edge of a thin blue woven sheet, but it felt more like a tablecloth than a sheet. She shifted a little to get away from its roughness and her head spun.

“So you’re awake then?” A blurred face leaned over her. She made out red lipstick, a thin line of a nose, kind eyes.

“Drink?” she gasped.

The face moved away, then loomed back in and she was aware of a straw close to her mouth. “Take it steady.”

Ignoring the advice, she sucked greedily and her throat was suddenly awash with coolness – the wonderful coolness of water – and then she was retching, choking, drowning. A firm hand supported her back. “Easy does it.” She tried again, more carefully, and this time with more success.

“You’re in ICU,” the voice went on. But she wasn’t really listening, didn’t really care; there was nothing more important than water; the need for it blanked out every other sense, every other feeling.

It was about thirty seconds later that the pain kicked in.

There was a deep, deep ache in her lower back, sparked off by the movement of leaning forward to drink. She moaned and the voice returned. “Gently does it, love. Slowly, slowly…”

The other voices – the further away voices – were still rumbling in the background and now she could make out odd snatches.

“She’s in a very weakened condition – I really wouldn’t advise visitors.”

“I want to bloody well see her. Tell him, Jim. Tell him we want to bloody well see her now.”

Oh God, that was her mother. What was her mother doing here? And why was she swearing? She never swore. Something bad must have happened. Something very, very bad.

Beneath the awful aching her heart began to thump harder and the beep of the machine sped up to keep time.

Then all at once they were there; the lumbering shadows of her parents sliding into the light. Her father bulky and silent – he never said much, he couldn’t get a word in edgeways most of the time – and her mother in her Evans black and white knitted jacket.

“Oh, Sarah-Jane, whatever are we going to do with you? Whatever are we going to do with her, Jim?”

Her mother’s usually ruddy cheeks were pale and she didn’t look as though she’d combed her hair lately. She was shaking her head now, a frown creasing her forehead, and her face was reproachful.

“It’s okay,” Sarah-Jane began, desperate to reassure them, but she only managed the very first bit of the ‘it’ so her voice resembled that of a mouse – a very small mouse caught in a trap – and the hand she’d meant to lift to calm her mother seemed to be attached to a wire. She glanced at it, which turned into a painful and rather shocking moment as there was a needle in the top of her hand which led to the wire which, in turn, led to another machine that looked like an old fashioned typewriter.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh…oh…”

“What’s she saying, Jim? Do you think we should call the doctor?”

Something niggled at the back of her mind. It was something to do with a party. Had she been at a party? A snapshot of memory drifted in. Herself draped on a chair watching someone walk across the terracotta carpet. They were carrying a tray of mushroom vol-au-vents.

“SJ, love, can you hear me?” The kindness of her father’s voice brought a sharp ache to her throat. “SJ, lovie?” He’d moved closer to the bed and was holding her hand in a fumbling, awkward kind of way. They had never been a touchy feely family. And when she looked up at him she saw that his eyes were full of tears and the ache in her throat intensified. Dad never cried. He was trying very hard not to do it now. He sniffed twice and rubbed his cheek with the side of his index finger, a tiny little movement that broke SJ’s heart.

She couldn’t speak and she couldn’t bear to see the pain on his face. Shutting her eyes again she let herself drift backwards into the soft black space of her mind.

The next thing she was conscious of was someone lifting the wrist that wasn’t wired to the machine and taking her pulse.

It was the nurse who’d given her the water. She had tiredness lines around her eyes and spoke gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Quite bad,” SJ said, hearing her voice come out hoarse and unused.

The nurse nodded and wrote something on a clipboard. “You’ve got a visitor if you’re up to it.”

As she spoke another woman slid into SJ’s line of vision. She was small and serious-looking with bobbed hair and Yves St Laurent glasses.

“Hello, Sarah-Jane. I’m Doctor Maria Costello; I’m from Clinical Medicine. I’d like to have a little chat with you if I may?”

SJ nodded, although her consent was clearly not required. The doctor had already pulled up a chair.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“No. Have you come to tell me what’s wrong with me?”

“Would you like me to tell you what’s wrong with you?”

“Yes please.” SJ lay back on her pillow, exhausted with the effort of speaking. Everything still hurt and she could smell antiseptic hand wash. It was beginning to make her feel sick.

She watched the doctor’s face through half closed eyes. Shadow memories lurched at the back of her mind and suddenly she wanted to say, “No, stop, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know.”

But it was too late. The doctor’s mouth was moving again, her words crisp and precise. “You are suffering from alcoholic poisoning. On Sunday your husband found you unconscious at home and he called an ambulance. If he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you wouldn’t be here now. The quantities of alcohol we washed out of your stomach were more than enough to kill you.”

SJ covered her face with her hands. The memories were taking form, becoming less shadowy, forcing their way up to the surface.

There had been some terrible argument with Tom. She’d been trying to stop him leaving the house. She was holding tightly onto his arm and he was trying to shake her off and his face had been grimmer than she’d ever seen it. As if he really hated her. As if he couldn’t bear to be married to her for a moment longer.

She could feel herself starting to shake, in a place deep inside. Because there were other images coming too, only these were more detached. She was watching herself from a distance. She was watching herself cross the hallway of her house, go into her lounge and unclip the gin bottle from the optic behind Tom’s bar. She could see her own hands getting out glasses and lining them up – a long line of glasses on the bar.

Four crystal tumblers, two pewter tankards, five little shot glasses Tom used for whiskey chasers if ever he was in the mood, and one commemorative wine glass with the words Sarah-Jane and Tom, on their wedding day, May 2009 inscribed on the side.

“I did this to myself,” she said, closing her eyes.

The doctor’s voice was very serious. Almost cold. “Are you conscious of the danger you placed yourself in? Last Sunday afternoon you drank almost a full litre bottle of gin. I’d like you to tell me why.”

And if you’d like to know what happens next you can find out for less than the price of a gin and tonic 🙂 by clicking here

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Author: Della Galton