A BRUSH WITH NOT-QUITE-DEATH

I'm feeling glad to be alive and walking! On my bike trips to Hemel Hempstead I take a beautiful country lane of just over 2 miles, and at one point there's a fairly blind intersection. I was halfway across it doing about 5mph when round a bend to my right came a car doing maybe 50. The woman driver hit the brakes and it was one of those moments when you just watch it happening as if in slow motion. This large vehicle was heading directly for me and as the yards closed it didn't deviate. 
At about 10 feet out it was clear she wasn't going to stop in time, and I was actually waiting for the impact, but by the wonders of ABS she was able to turn at the last second and stop alongside me. Then, through her half - open window she began to abuse me for being in the middle of the road. I tried to point out that until that place in the junction I couldn't even see her, and she shouldn't be going that fast. I wasn't polite, I have to admit. Coming that close to being smashed and bent up on the road tends to have that effect. She drove off still telling me I was some kind of idiot, and I shouted after her to slow down.
The inevitable result of this is being reminded of the fragility of our human existence. Having been knocked off from behind by a car travelling at 40mph some 6 years ago, I know well enough that the danger is real. I could so easily be lying on a hospital trolley right now waiting for surgery and wondering how badly this will turn out. or unconscious. Or worse.
It makes me thankful, at the end of the day, which this is.

DOGGEREL

I sometimes worry that my poetry is just doggerel. When I get a dog in my retirement, I may name him Erroll (as in Flynn). Dogerrol. But I comfort myself that it must satisfy at least 5 requirements. 1. It must scan and rhyme (if intended) 2. The words must be smooth in mouth and mind (C. S. Lewis hated to type his manuscripts as it made it hard for him to 'hear' the sound of the words) 3. It must have something to say. 4. It must suggest something more. 5. The suggested more must be partly hidden. 

With that in mind, here's today's doggerel:

PREMATURE THE BIRTH

Premature the birth begins, 
Impossible, the day it seems, 
Full - formed the face with shining eyes, 
From each shop window, Santa beams. 

September 25th the date, 
Full three months to the day, the birth, 
The term all new, still summer shines, 
Unready yet is all the Earth. 

And welcome, is He, so ahead? 
And welcome, was He, in His day? 
Unsure the greeting in the shops, 
The seasoned finance, start to pay? 

A card, balloon, a reindeer mug, 
A light - up pen with cheery elf. 
So buy it, wrap it, make it nice, 
And think of what you want yourself. 

We're never ready for His birth. 
But over - ready for the day. 
And we don't know when He arrives
The simple manger where He lay. 

PRESS RELEASE!

What happens when we are called to face the past and the darkness within ourselves? How do we respond to the challenge to change? An engaging story in an evocative Christmas setting that will make you laugh and cry A respectful but provocative reworking of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol in modern clothes

A CHRISTMAS CALLING by Chris Cottee please see below for our latest release available now.   A recent article in The Observer revealed that the friendship between renowned English author Charles Dickens and fellow literary giant Hans Christian Andersen had been killed when Dickens found Andersen to be a ‘bad house guest’. Christmas, a time to celebrate the peace and joy of Christ, is, ironically, often a time of irksome house guests as families come together to celebrate. Chris Cottee’s A Christmas Calling features a protagonist who, like Scrooge, in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, has cut himself off from other people to protect himself from his own crippling issues. Like Scrooge he has to face his past through encounters, not with ghosts, but with a mysterious companion whose voice is but one of many he might be influenced by In the hustle and bustle of modern life we are constantly exposed to all manner of ‘voices’ inviting us, beckoning us to think, act and believe in a certain way. Yet how many of those ‘voices’ are authentic and calling to us with only our ultimate good in mind? How do we know whom to listen to and, if a voice for our good calls to us, will we recognize it for what it is? Will we respond positively? Do we believe that change in us and in other equally unlikely people is possible? In A Christmas Calling Chris Cottee captures these questions in a tense drama strongly reminiscent of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol but with a more sensitively worked main character and a differently drawn hope of reclamation. The book heralds all the things we associate with Christmas: fun, snow, excitement, children, lights, parties and celebration meals. We meet David Sourbook, a callous man. Locked inside his sneering heart, Christmas jollities and festive cheer leave him cold, stone cold. This year though, a chance encounter with a mysterious companion, Angela, could herald a change. But can she be trusted?  Was she a friend or an angel? Angela guides him through the town, immersing him in an alien world he has not known, and, as she seems able to keep on loving him with enormous patience, his frozen heart begins to melt. They run across violence from a local gang, along with failure, death and sickness, and even trouble with the police, making David question whether this woman is really a bad influence on him. Is Angela human or an angel?  Yet he experiences the redemptive power of simple kindness. He halts and hesitates. But deep and dark secrets from his past, hidden even from himself, have to be released, with shocking effect. We experience with him a powerful sense of yearning, pulling both from deep within and from inestimably far, felt through the simple medium of watching the dusk from his seat at his cottage, looking across the fields and the distant sky. There is an intriguing question throughout - who is it that's speaking to David, and how, and why? Is it God or something darker? Will David listen? Will he experience redemption? About the author Chris Cottee is a vicar in Watford and previously studied clinical psychology. He has a passion for the outdoors, working with children, and writing poetry and fiction. For review copies and media enquiries contact Manoj: info@instantapostle.com Tel: 07932 463 951.   A Christmas Calling ISBN: 781909728707 by Chris Cottee is published by Instant Apostle and available now from Christian bookshops, bookstores and on-line retailers. Fiction. 304pp £8.99

SECOND ATTEMPT TO POST BLOG

First review from publishers of manuscript for second book ('A Spring Awakening' probably) came back. Always a kick in the teeth! 'Lose 20,000 words, cut dialogue between main characters, chop this bit, lose this reference...' Hard because you've labored over it, and some of those bits are essential to plot or characterisation. But there's a helpful phrase I came across: writing is rewriting. The perspective of another set of eyes tells you when the padding sucks energy and movement from the plot. People read what moves. There, that's a saying with at least a couple of meanings. People read what moves. Moves along. Moves them. Moves society. And maybe I tend to be verbose in my writing, which is ok in a reflective piece, but not a novel. A novel must have pace. Pace not peace! Not until the end anyway. I do favour a happy ending!
But then again, what's the point of having pace, if the reader isn't engaged with the characters? I like the view for fiction: 'just because it's not true, doesn't mean its not real'. The characters have to be 'real' for the action to mean anything. Otherwise it's like one of those Sci fi films where the whole budget has been spent on eye - boggling action but the people and what happens to them doesn't engage. Boring! So there's a balance here. Shall I cut out everything that makes the people real, a lot of which is interaction through dialogue? Of course not. 
A balance. The reviewer must be obeyed! But not completely! Otherwise, why not just write shorter books? Chop out every alternate chapter! And, by the way, I love the chunky feel of how 'A Christmas Calling' has come out. Thank you Instant Apostle #IA
For my future biographers: A PICTURE OF THE AUTHOR AS A YOUNG MAN

First review from publishers of manuscript for second book ('A Spring Awakening' probably) came back. Always a kick in the teeth! 'Lose 20,000 words, cut dialogue between main characters, chop this bit, lose this reference...' Hard because you've labored over it, and some of those bits are essential to plot or characterisation. But there's a helpful phrase I came across: writing is rewriting. The perspective of another set of eyes tells you when the padding sucks energy and movement from the plot. People read what moves. There, that's a saying with at least a couple of meanings. People read what moves. Moves along. Moves them. Moves society. And maybe I tend to be verbose in my writing, which is ok in a reflective piece, but not a novel. A novel must have pace. Pace not peace! Not until the end anyway. I do favour a happy ending!
But then again, what's the point of having pace, if the reader isn't engaged with the characters? I like the view for fiction: 'just because it's not true, doesn't mean its not real'. The characters have to be 'real' for the action to mean anything. Otherwise it's like one of those Sci fi films where the whole budget has been spent on eye - boggling action but the people and what happens to them doesn't engage. Boring! So there's a balance here. Shall I cut out everything that makes the people real, a lot of which is interaction through dialogue? Of course not. 
A balance. The reviewer must be obeyed! But not completely! Otherwise, why not just write shorter books? Chop out every alternate chapter! And, by the way, I love the chunky feel of how 'A Christmas Calling' has come out. Thank you Instant Apostle #IA
For my future biographers: A PICTURE OF THE AUTHOR AS A YOUNG MAN

GET THE BOOK!

It's arrived! The copies of my book 'A Christmas Calling' from the publishers - the copies I now have to sell.

As mentioned previously, it's based on the story of Scrooge, and it's aimed at an adult readership, to light the festive fires in our hearts in the run-up to Christmas (there were Christmas things in the shops today!). I hope you'll buy a signed copy from me.
I can sell them at less than the Amazon price, at £8. Postage and packing is £3 and remains that same price for anything up to 6 copies. So, 1 copy is £11, 2 copies is £19, 3 copies is £27, and so on.
You can request copies by email (chriscottee@sky.com) or post (61 Westfield Ave, Watford, WD24 7HF). Please make sure your name is clear and tell me if you have a particular wording you'd like me to put ('My dearest and oldest friend', 'the true inspiration behind all my writing'!!)
Send a cheque or you can transfer the money by BACS: my sort code is 60-00-08 and account number is 49111841 account name REVEREND C P COTTEE)
So ... buy a copy! Buy copies! They will make great presents both for Christians and those who are not. Send me HUGE amounts of money!
By the way, if you're in Watford and you see me from time to time we can arrange delivery without postage and packing costs. If you're abroad we need to negotiate P&P!

Well, it's done! My publishers, Instant Apostle #InAp contacted me a week ago to say, 'can we have the completed manuscript for the second book in two weeks, please'. Now, on the one hand, as a writer it's lovely to be able to say those two wonderful words, 'my publishers' after, like many aspiring authors, so many years and so many manuscripts (about 15 in my case - I still have hopes for all of them!) but to find oneself staring down the barrel in quite that fashion is sobering. 
And guess what! I finished it this afternoon! Another 20,000 words or so, hitting its lowest depths and highest heights in bringing it to the intended conclusion, while still working at my 'day job', in a week! I'll try to do a preliminary review this week before sending it in. 
Which is fabulous. 
But this evening, I went out for a walk with my older son, Tom, who still lives with us. It was a bit drizzly, but really nice as we saw sheep, countryside, and the inside of a place of refreshment. And I realised - give me the choice of finishing a manuscript or being able to go out with Tom, and I'd take the time with Tom. Give me the choice of being a fabulously successful author (!) and being able to go out for walks with Tom, and I'll take the latter, any time. 
I'd have to say I'm pleased with, proud of even, my priorities.
Oh yes, I know, having to finish the second manuscript just 3 weeks before the first is published sounds suspiciously like a kind of madness.

IT'S TOM!