USING MY PLEASANTLY QUIRKY
How d'you like my graphic? I was inspired by a creativity website I came across recently, so I decided to use it on posts other than those that talk about Alias Jeannie Delaney. Very not relevant, that would be, using this on a western.
Weird? Unconventional maybe. Pleasantly eccentric I've been told (by hubby's ex-boss's wife). Slightly to the left, according to my doctor when we discussed my mental health issues with depression. (or was it right? No, definitely left).
I'm extremely creative. I'm an artist and writer, which speaks for itself when it comes to the oddness department. I've always not done what's expected of one. Not cuz I'm rebelling (although I like that too) but because I'm like that anyway. I like weird, odd, offbeat, unconventional, oddball. I don't think I'm crazy and zany - that sounds too exhausting. I'll stick to pleasantly eccentric/quirky if you don't mind. Much more relaxing.
I suppose being determined to take flying lessons while I was still at school, aged sixteen, is classed as offbeat. "Why can't you learn to drive like everybody else?" Some boy asked me. Fair point.
And, during a 1970s summer, my equally eccentric Italian landlord Tony invited me to tread grapes on the roof of his Edwardian terrace house in Surrey for wine making purposes. How could I not? (The wine was disgusting, according to my wine loving and making parents, whereas I'm bereft of tastebuds so wouldn't know. And how come Tony became winemaker of the year shortly afterwards if he was that bad?).
I had a pale blue painted bedsit, and above my door lintel was mounted a pair of antlers. "That's mine!" I announced on seeing them for the first time. I loved that light blue house, complete with its grape vine entwined on a trellis in place of a roof over Tony's red Fiat. And the goat and chickens that lived in the back garden and the exotic birds that lived in the greenhouse attached to my room (I could see the birds through my engrained with whatever-it-was window). When I'd pass the open kitchen door on my way to work, Tony would be standing over the sink in the process of wringing a chicken's neck - my mum used to do that when dad was a farm worker in Devon. Tony would ask if I'd like a chicken for dinner, and I'd wishy washily smile and shake my head. That man was an angel - he worked as a nurse for the mentally handicapped kids. When I became ill with flu, he brought soup to me in my little cupboard bedroom. "Here is some chick-en -" of course "- soup forrr you, Jo-anna. You like?". I loved. (Not sure that he talked like that...).
I had another very eccentric friend years ago. He was bonkers and nuts and travelled the world and had a zillion friends who were girls. He was Gordon, and my surname was Bennett. You can see where I'm going with that. He joked about it often. "Hey - if we got married I'd be Gordon Bennett!" He was a genius on the pianoforte and a potter, and was by trade a horticulturalist. He was tending plants in an upstairs office in London when an IRA bomb went off downstairs during the seventies. That was a shock. He ended up apparently becoming a diplomat and travelling more of the world. No-one was more shocked than me. Gordon? A diplomat? *snort*. Him travelling the world was normal, but being a diplomat? That's questionable. A friend of mine said that was questionable. Made me think. His sweet mum wanted us to marry and my folks would have loved that, but no - he was brother material, no more. He was a bit too nuts. I lost touch with him after that and I'm a bit sorry, but hubby, who met him after Gordon drove me to the flat warming party where hubby and I collided, lost patience with him. A bit too silly for hubby. Understandable.
I worked in art studios between the typing jobs I didn't mind doing because they enabled me to travel, but one of my jobs was as a messenger at Kew Gardens in the herbarium. I liked that a lot. I wore a uniform and worked with two men on the verge of retirement. One was small, sweet, kind and funny, the other was big and grumpy. I delivered mail - often pressed plants - to the botanists within, who were usually heads down, one eye glued to their microscopes. A bell sounded when it was lunchtime or time to go home. They'd never have left otherwise. That was such an out there job and I made some lovely friends. I loved Kew.
After marriage and children I determined to write what turned into a trilogy. My western story which follows the life of a dynamic pants-wearing cowgirl who's the fastest gun in the west and a magnificent lover to both men and women. That's not the subject matter that's usually expected of a mother and wife, is it?
I have umpteen zillion hobbies and interests. Art, writing and the wild west thing being uppermost, above travel and exploration, boating, the paranormal, architecture, archaeology.... I'm fascinated by early photography. Space travel intrigues me, as does medicine. I'm a not bad archer and I've rowed since I was a kid, brought up by the River Thames as I was.
I'm a renaissance soul. I want to be eclectic when it comes to my art. Multidisciplinary, if you will. Not asking much, am I?
I humbly apologise if I seem to be repeating myself if you've bravely decided to follow me (really? - I'm honestly so grateful it's a bit embarrassing), but this business of opening up as a creative artist, writer and all round explorer of life, in my endeavours to get myself 'out there' as they say - so be it. Answer: skim the bits you've read before. I won't mind.
The only issue with being slightly to the left, pleasantly eccentric, renaissance soulish etc etc is the propensity to suffer from depression, which I do, a lot. Just plain nasty. My emotionally neglected upbringing contributed big time. Hence the development of my epic western trilogy Alias Jeannie Delaney. The woman I wanted to be, so that I could prove myself. Thankfully my soulmate hubby is an amazing man who understands the whole business of it. We share the same schoolkid humour which often involves stink bombs and blowing things up and stuffed pigs and monkeys that talk (they do). They saved my sanity.
On that questionable note... Ta ta. Speak soon. Love you all. X
And yes - this quirky so-and-so UK Granny did write the following gritty western with a twist. Fancy!
ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY - THE STORYLINE
Dynamic pants-wearing cowgirl Jeannie Morgan is tomboy beautiful and the fastest gun west of the Mississippi - her snake strike speed and aim are legendary. Her extraordinary sexuality is as fluid as a miner's whiskey, and men and women alike enjoy the magnificence of her love making.
Jeannie must navigate the grit and sweat of the wild frontier and face her desires and identity through deadly confrontations as she seeks acceptance in this big, bad world and kill or be killed. She takes on roles deemed only suitable for men, but her powerful persona and lethal gun make her the perfect candidate. Will she find what she seeks - acknowledgement and acceptance? Or will her tomboy beauty, her powerful persona and her lethal gun finally be the death of her?
Jeannie must navigate the grit and sweat of the wild frontier and face her desires and identity through deadly confrontations as she seeks acceptance in this big, bad world and kill or be killed. She takes on roles deemed only suitable for men, but her powerful persona and lethal gun make her the perfect candidate. Will she find what she seeks - acknowledgement and acceptance? Or will her tomboy beauty, her powerful persona and her lethal gun finally be the death of her?
IF YOU'VE READ & ENJOYED THE STORY SO FAR, I'D BE INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL IF YOU COULD LEAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW ON AMAZON. THANK YOU SO MUCH!
MY COVER DESIGNER & I COLLABORATED ON THE IMAGES. THEY'RE BASED ON ARTWORK I'D MADE MANY YEARS AGO!
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CHAPTER SAMPLE BOOK 1 |
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BOOK 2 |
