Is it OK to celebrate today?

My principal celebration today isn't really mine, but I'm happy to cling to its coat tails. Some of you might recall that I had a piece of writing in a  local guide book about the Montagu Monuments in St Edmund's Church in Warkton, a village just outside Kettering. (Read more here.) Well, this lovely little publication has received a national award for the best church monument guidebook in the country, which I'll admit is quite niche but worth raising a glass of bubbly to. Sadly, I shan't be able to go the presentation do as I'll be away.

On the same weekend, I've also been invited to a writing competition prize-giving evening, because I'm on the shortlist, which is rather pleasing. I shan't be able to go to that either, not least but it's in Taunton, which is a tidy step from Northamptonshire. The organisers have said they'll let me know if I win: I'm not holding my breath.

Apart from playing my uke in a concert on Saturday night - a church fundraiser in aid of a new roof (aren't they always?) - I have nothing planned for the Bank Holiday weekend, so maybe I'll just sit about and do nothing. Yeah, right.

Have a good weekend, folks.

Want to join in and celebrate with us? Hop over to Lexa's blog here and sign up.

Footnote. I am, of course, mindful of the recent terrible events in Manchester, but have nothing fresh to add to the conversation, other than to say that if you heard the moving Pause for Thought by Remona Aly on the Chris Evans show and were wondering about the Shams of Tabriz quote she used, you can find it on Goodreads here.

Arts and books follow-up

The new guidebook

What an extraordinary weekend I'm having. As I previewed in my last post, I went to an outdoor theatrical event last night as part of Corby's 'Our Woods' festival. It was astonishing, one of those truly weird and wonderful things that you can't quite believe you're seeing, not least because it was in - er - Corby. I mean no disrespect to this town where I used to live and where husband Clive still works, but honestly: Corby!

Then this afternoon I've been to a spoken word event in St Edmund's Church in the tiny village of Warkton. Back in February, I went to a  creative writing workshop that focused on the Montagu Monuments that are housed in the nave of the church - you can read more about that here - after which all the participants of this and other, similar events were invited to submit a few words for possible inclusion in the new guidebook.

Well, the guidebook is now out and this afternoon's event was to launch it. Those whose words have been included were invited to take part, and I'm pleased to say I was one such contributor. As you may remember from an earlier post, I'm not very brave when it comes to reading out my stuff in public, but I did it and people were kind enough not to throw rotten tomatoes at me. (We were in church, after all.)

What next, I wonder. 

Monumental opportunity

I had a fascinating morning on Saturday at St Edmund's Church, Warkton, a tiny village near Kettering, where I took part in a Writers' Retreat.  I quote from the church guidebook to set the scene: 'With Saxon origins and Norman remains, the Church of St Edmund is distinguished by its chancel, which contains an exceptional grouping of four world class monuments to the last three generations of the Montagu family of nearby Boughton House. It was designed and built in 1754 by Louis Francois Roubiliac, the greatest sculptor active in England in the 18th Century , to house his individual monuments to John, Duke of Montagu, and his wife Duchess Mary. The chancel had two other empty niches, which were subsequently filled by monuments to John and Mary's daughter and granddaughter.'

Time and environmental issues, including pollution and high humidity levels, had taken their toll on the marble, and so an extensive (and expensive) renovation project was undertaken. The monuments have been painstakingly cleaned and are now revealed in all their glory.

I joined a group of local writers for a brief introduction to the church and, more particularly, the monuments. Then we were let loose to use them as inspiration for writing, sketching or simply contemplation. It was a lovely atmosphere and we all scribbled away like mad. We could sit in a quiet side room (near the kettle) or in the church, and could come and go as the mood took us. There was no pressure to produce anything, nor any necessity to share. It was great to be given permission (by which I mean, to give ourselves permission) simply to explore and see what happened.

Everyone who took part has been invited to follow up with a 50-word contribution to a new guide book that is under development and/or a longer piece for a spoken word event. I have a couple of ideas that I shall be working up into something.

There's more about the monuments here.