Dru, Steinbeck and the Book of Deer

Dear Juliet I listened to your podcast first thing this morning instead of watching Frasier . Good production, and I like hearing Dru's voice. It cannot help but strike a chord... I hadn't really considered Dalton as the anti-Giles, and he was gone before I thought more about it. But I remember you once considered me as a sort of Giles. I didn't altogether agree at the time, but there is some fairly compelling evidence. A postgraduate diploma in library and information studies, experience of rare books, specialist knowledge of the Book of Deer and most of all, the fact it feels like I was grabbed and flung headfirst into the Buffyverse by Dru like some sort of conscripted Watcher. I didn't ever find any occult works on the shelves in Corehouse (that stately home where I worked 1993-1995) but I was certainly steeped in history and some of it rubbed off. It's hard to forget sitting where Sir Walter Scott sat, seeing a page singed in the Great Fire of London, handling...

Dear Juliet I hope you're okay today and I hear you're at Monsterpalooza come the end of May. Well, I hope you have a nice few days there. Give Dru the day off and let her go shopping ! Actually, there's a story about Dru I probably never told you... You'd probably think I was nuts... Oh, what the hell, cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! Well, I was back in Hollywood in December 2013, at something of a loose end, meeting Gina Gomez, Tom Cruise, Ben Stiller (lucky again!) and despite all that, thinking about Dru. I'd never quite got her out of my head and I didn't really want to, although I must stress I do know she's fictional. As you may recall, I'd just finished Spike & Dru : the Graveyard of Empires and my creative process is like a production line at Ford. I finish a story, it takes a week off and then the next instalment starts magically assembling itself. Such was the case with Dru V. True Blood was still on TV at the time and I'd me...

Dear Juliet As you know, King Charles III has come a-calling but I don't want to put a downer on your day by going on about politics. Particularly at the moment. So I thought I'd explain about Kings Charles the First and Second; and about Britain's own revolution. And how Shropshire fitted into it! In a word, Charles I (1600-1649) believed in the divine right of kings and basically wouldn't obey the English and Scottish Parliaments. He even fought against them during the English Civil War, was convicted of high treason and beheaded in 1649 . England briefly turned into a Commonwealth or republic and Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector or head of state. However, the Stuart Restoration took place in 1660, returning Charles II (1630-1685) to the throne. Before that, though, Charles II had had literally to run for his life , hiding out at Boscobel House in Shropshire and then in a nearby oak tree to avoid Parliamentary soldiers. The tree, called the Royal Oak , did no...

Dear Juliet Today is a workaday day, but last night I was skulking round Bridgnorth's avenues and alleyways. Saw a service user late that evening and, once I was finished, took the opportunity to roll the car up and round the High Town and take this picture of the old Town Hall dating from 1652 for you. Gosh, it was good doing things like that for you again. It also felt entirely normal and natural, and yet at odd moments I'd be beset by feelings of fragility and awe. It's like I've gone through the looking glass to a far-future time I never thought could be; yet it is as if the past is present, alive and awake like gossamer paper dancing in the wind. Once again I am doing these things for you and while it may be the worst of times for the world at large, it is the best of times for me. For you too, I hope. It seems a cousin of Franklin Delano Roosevelt's was born in Bridgnorth in 1894 and championed equal pay for women in Congress. Allah, threads, tapestries etc....

Dear Juliet You looked happy here, just the other day. This pleases me, more than I can say. Have a good hug, I'll think of you all day. 🤗 Love, James

Dear Juliet I like America and its princess (that's you), I liked it from the first moment I came through customs in Hawaii in 1989. I was coming back from the working holiday to Australia and successfully made that early crossing of the Pacific. I was on United flight 812 Sydney to L.A. that August and I'm afraid to say flight 811 (going the other way) had lost a door west of Honolulu earlier that year. They'd checked flight 812. It's door hinges were weakening too, but I was reasonably sure they'd fix them pretty soon. I'd stayed briefly in a backpacker hostel in Sydney's Kings Cross (er, it burnt down six weeks later, arson...) and after arriving in L.A., I'd gone up to San Francisco and missed the 1989 earthquake by a few weeks. I remember heading east over the Oakland Bay Bridge and, well, a piece of it fell off during the quake... It's always been like this: I go somewhere, something really interesting happens to me, I leave without a scratc...

Dear Juliet As you know, London literary salons are where folks like William Pratt (Spike) hung around writing effulgent poetry and being eaten by vampires (Dru). I guess my Society of Authors get-together on the 14th is the modern equivalent and it's nice to feel like I did something with my life. There's also free pizza. I briefly met a young author called Molly Arbuthnott there last year, got invited to her last book launch and ended up floating up and down a London canal behind King's Cross on a languorous literary voyage. It looks like she's having another one in June so I'll go back if I can. Yes, I wish you could be there. They've turned the old 19th century coal warehouses into shops, pubs and eateries; and this is part of today's fun London. Walk past a grotty building site, turn a brief corner and suddenly you're in a swish urbanscape which befuddles the mind . I don't know how anyone manages to live locally, but still it stays awash with...

Dear Juliet I'm back on the job today, and that involves walking the length and breadth of Shifnal all eventide. I could take the car, but I still think hauling a ton of metal around five hundred yards at a time doesn't make much sense. And I need to keep my legs working if I'm to climb the Wrekin, see Middle-earth and commune with Tolkien's hobbits... So I'll be doing my best to help Shifnal's frail and elderly once again, and I think I've got about enough left in me to make it to the end of 2028. Pension's in 2031 (I'm actually getting a small NHS pension now, which makes me [as I put it] a demi-pensioner) and I'm not sure whether or not I'll make another move or what my final fate will be. I do not miss the Scottish winters. Avalon would be nice but it's way beyond my budget, the U.S. immigration system is broken and while there's also Ryde on the Isle of Wight, there's always the danger of "rock fever." Being stuck ...

Dear Juliet I hope you're okay? Anyway, walking to a hospital to get one's cancer drugs through a hideously deprived suburb of Birmingham , which itself has had a bin strike for the last fifteen months might not seem like a fun thing to do. However, something of spring was shining through. Walking not in Memphis but in Wolverhampton , I took my usual route to New Cross Hospital from the railway station past the Birmingham Main Line Canal . The ducks were out and about, there was no sign of one ninety-pound nutcase I'd bumped into a couple of months ago and I'm coming to the end of that course of pills. It did feel a bit different trudging along last August, hoping nothing had metastasized, not looking forward to the long winter; but I had a great day today because (in a very understated way) it felt like you were along for the ride. I felt sharp of eye, fairly fleet of foot, looking out for anything I could photograph and show you, and doing that's just the bee...

Dear Juliet I just wanted to mention that I have to walk to hospital in Wolverhampton from the railway station tomorrow so, from your perspective, I might be a little late with my 22nd April blog post, due 7.45 am (your time). All I have to do is pick up some pills but the car park is always chock-a-block so I usually hoof it. Actually, that isn't the whole story. It may not seem like much, but I sent out yesterday's post dead on at 7.45 am, felt pretty pleased with myself for an hour, then had the earth-shattering realisation that I'd forgotten the keywords, thinking that you might not have seen it, that you might feel I'd forgotten about you and that I didn't care. Nothing could be further from the truth. I added the keywords and prayed everything would be all right, but you wouldn't have wanted to be me for the next hour or so... I was like the proverbial cat on the hot tin roof and the feelings of dread and disaster were awful. Anyway, I don't think you ...

Dear Juliet They started building St. Andrew's Church in Shifnal sometime in the 12th century, and they're still not finished. I got involved with it just after I arrived in Shifnal (September 2020) to get to know the community because they had an Open Door (tea and biscuits) session every Tuesday morning for all the older folk. I checked I wasn't too young, started taking the tables out at the end (partly because no one else could), and with the exception of a two year pandemic gap, on it's gone ever since. I once again became "your local celebrity no one's ever heard of" although this time, the birth certificate matched up and my accent largely fitted. Not that there was much intolerance shown to me in Scotland, but the question, rarely asked, "how do you like it up here?" had got old very quick. For a while, I was part of a group of older guys who congregated round a mobility scooter in the corner, but time winnowed our ranks. A nice old gen...

Dear Juliet I just had a thought. Yes, I know that doesn't happen very often. Anyway, there I was, looking at my lengthening line of little blog posts, feeling happy when I thought of you, wondering at the ways the world can sometimes turn out well, and I noticed the original To See My Friend and Shake Her Hand had had a few more views than the average. You'd like me to shake your hand? Maybe I can do something. A couple of crazed and convoluted ideas came and went then, like a small eureka, it hit me. Why not at least suggest we try a brief, time-limited Facebook video call? As you know, I'm typically online between 7.30-7.50 am your time. I'll open up my Facebook Messenger page every day while I'm on the job and see what dreams may come. You'd have to send me a Facebook friend request first, but I think that's what's needed to make it work. Do not worry. I'm okay with things as they are. I don't mind sitting out somewhere south of Needles lik...

Dear Juliet That title just popped into my head and I'm not even sure what it means yet! I'm also a little concerned you might be getting sick of all the Star Trek analogies but I'm afraid they just work perfectly. At the moment, I'm quite content to be on shore leave while they're getting the bugs out of the new ship in Spacedock, and there's actually a good story about that from the first time I was in Hollywood. But let's think about you. Not a stretch, really. I guess everything's been pulled apart in your head, turned upside down, hoovered, stuffed back in again and now it all needs time to settle. Possibly quite a lot of time. However, I will be here and I am patient. It is simple, all I like in life is having you around. The best days where when I'd see something interesting and be able to tell you immediately. Forget Hollywood, Buffy and even Dru. That was what was important. Remember that you were always worthy of all that I did over the y...

Dear Juliet I hope you're not finding all the Star Trek analogies a little confusing, but I really can't come across anything better. Even the title's taken from Gene Roddenberry's lyrics for the theme... Anyway, the statistical reads of the blog lined up very neatly last night (contact with the city on the edge of forever) and my subconscious gaily announced this morning that I'd got my nice new metaphorical Enterprise back after the last one got blown up . I don't know where to take her yet, but at least I'm back in the centre seat. And I understand, or at least I think I understand, that you're relearning a few things like Spock did at the start of Star Trek IV . That I did not forget you. That I did come back for you. That you always meant everything to me. And I like you just the way you are. I suppose you're going through a lot of change and readjustment. Quite a bit of uncertainty and a soupcon of insecurity, perhaps. Wondering if James is...