• iaindryden1

An omen.

My feet were whipped from under me, my body swung out and I flew, landing three metres downhill with a thump which generated a loud involuntary expelling of air that sounded like a death moan. If you believe in omens, and might wonder what that's got to do with a book manuscript, read on.

Well, this happened yesterday, not long after I'd handed my latest book to a small publisher who I'd first met on the 20th April when I approached him with Camino Voices. He liked the book but said the market was too niche to consider. A little deflated, on the spare of the moment I told him about another concept and a week thence, liking the rough outline of a manuscript on de-stressin., he commissioned me. In a single month I transformed my original 2004 concept, researching, writing and illustrating a 60 page book and yesterday the man was happy and said the book will be out in October.

To celebrate, I walked up Glastonbury Tor, arriving at the top exhausted, with my heart pumping. A couple of daft hippies had luged a sofa up the steep incline and were sat like kings. Delighted, I looked across Somerset to the distant ridge upon which we live and ate a sandwich.

Soon rain attacked from the east and I headed down hill. Not really thinking, exhausted from the exercise but still elated, at the steepest point I stepped off the concrete steps which were hurting my knees. Having fallen, I skidded down the wet grass at speed, grasping the turf with my fingers. Eventually, I stopped and lay out of breath, rain falling on my face and I scolded myself for having forgotten a simple mountaineering fact - that wet grass is as slippery as ice.

Sore, but unbelievably able to rise, I was glad. I've always fallen without tensing up, be it on a ski slope, off a speeding bike or a galloping horse. Consequently, I've never broken bones. Stiff with pain, I made my way cautiously towards the welcome concrete path where I discovered my crutch's strong elbow-support had snapped, proving the power of my fall.

A young woman in her twenties who had witnessed this dangerous accident, ignored me, stepping quickly up hill, but a young family asked if I was OK. Realising I was going in the wrong direction, disoriented, I headed the other way, eventually arriving at my car, happy to be OK and to have another book on its way. Now that, in my mind, is a good omen, but then I always find the positive.

24 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

He was adamant. “Anything goes, the Planet is suffering, look at ALL the climate disasters!” I had to think for a second, “Yes, action is needed, but to stop ambulances speeding to hospital is to targ

My hair was getting in my eyes, so a visit to the snipper was due. This little town has become the capital of haircutters, so I strolled along the old street, avoiding the temptation of the coffee sh

“Boris is the man!” He said as he leaned against the old stone pillar. “Yup, Boris has charisma,” she smiled with fondness, “something none of the others have.” “But Boris has no moral principle othe