Friday 21 July 2017

Stories From Around the World 2

To replace the blog this month I am going to post occasional videos called Stories from Around the World. These are me practising my storytelling skills. They are not the finished article and were all done in one take. But they are quite fun and something to fill the void while the blog is on its holidays. Feel free to leave a comment, or suggestions.  

This one is from Wales and is called the Fairy Walking Stick, I must admit the end is a bit ropey.:-) enjoy. 

oh oh oh 
Don't forget, for the next 6 weeks, my two novels, Maggie's Milkman and Extraordinary Rendition   are both going to be available to buy as physical books from a company called Lulu. So, if you fancy owning one of my novels click on the links below and get your credit card out :-). If you would like a signed copy, for ten pounds each, contact me. 

Maggie's Milkman
http://www.lulu.com/shop/gareh-davies/maggies-milkman/paperback/product-23248753.html

Extraordinary Rendition.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/gareth-davies/extraordinary-rendition/paperback/product-23248768.html

Now enjoy the story. 

Friday 14 July 2017

Stories from Around the World

To replace the blog this month I am going to post occasional videos called Stories from Around the World. These are me practising my storytelling skills. They are not the finished article and were all done in one take. But they are quite fun and something to fill the void while the blog is on its holidays. Feel free to leave a comment, or suggestions.  

The first one is fro Japan and is called The Monkey and the Wild Boar and it is from Japan.



Don't forget, for the next 7 weeks, my two novels, Maggie's Milkman and Extraordinary Rendition   are both going to be available to buy as physical books from a company called Lulu. So, if you fancy owning one of my novels click on the links below and get your credit card out :-). If you would like a signed copy, for ten pounds each, contact me. 

Maggie's Milkman
http://www.lulu.com/shop/gareh-davies/maggies-milkman/paperback/product-23248753.html

Extraordinary Rendition.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/gareth-davies/extraordinary-rendition/paperback/product-23248768.html

Friday 7 July 2017

3 things.

Three things today, good news, bad news and a glimpse of things to come. 
Let's start with the bad news. 
Due to a really heavy summer schedule, I have decide, reluctantly, to suspend my blog over the summer. This means that I won't be posting stories or poems on a daily basis for at least the next eight weeks. During this time I will post an occasional video or two of me telling traditional stories and I'll suggest some archive stories on my Facebook page. (Feel free to suggest your favourite stories for archive stories). I hope to come back stronger and better and nicely refreshed in September. 

(By the way someone left a comment asking if there will be more Saz and Debs yesterday, but I deleted it by accident. The answer is, maybe, in 8 weeks' time. :) )

So the good news. 
As you know I have two novels available on Amazon and Smashwords as ebooks. For the next 8 weeks these are both going to be available to buy as physical books from a company called Lulu. So, if you fancy owning one of my novels click on the links below and get your credit card out :-). If you would like a signed copy, for ten pounds each, contact me. 

Maggie's Milkman
http://www.lulu.com/shop/gareh-davies/maggies-milkman/paperback/product-23248753.html

Extraordinary Rendition.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/gareth-davies/extraordinary-rendition/paperback/product-23248768.html

And I thought I would leave you with a glimpse of things to come, so here is a short extract from my latest novel, Humans. Being. If you are a regular reader, you will recognise the character. 
For audio click here

Ice Cream 

“Hey, what’s wrong, kiddo?” Vic scooped his boy off the carpet and into the air, the iPad nearly whacking him in the face. “Jesus, you’re heavier than I remember you.” He plonked Elis on the sofa and sat down next to him. He put his arm around his son and let him sob for a moment while horrible thoughts about what might be upsetting Elis ganged up in his mind.
“Ethan Matthews calls me a freak,” Elis said before wiping his nose on Vic’s sleeve.
“Who’s Ethan Matthews?” Vic said.
“He’s a boy in the year above me. Carys’s bother. He said I was a freak cos my mum has a girlfriend. He says it’s disgusting, unnatural.”
The open goal yawned in front of Vic. All he had to do was tap the ball into the net and wheel away to celebrate. How easy would it be to build on an ignorant ten-year-old bully’s prejudice and turn Elis against his mother and Natalie?
“Okay,” said Vic. “Does it feel unnatural when you are with them?”
Elis didn’t say anything.
“Does it?”
“No,” Elis said.
“Do you think they love each other?”
Elis nodded.
“And do they love you?”
Elis nodded again, “they give me ice cream.”
“Well there you are then,” Vic said, “if they give you ice cream, they must love you.”
“And they give me cuddles and they help me with my homework,” Elis added, as if realising there was more to love than frozen milk.
Vic squeezed him. “So, you’re a lucky boy then.”
A cartoon mouse dropped an iron on a cartoon cat’s head on the screen in front of them.
“Listen, next time he calls you a name, why don’t you ask him to go to your mum’s for tea. Let him meet your mum and Nat and maybe he’ll see it’s perfectly normal.”
“No way, he’s horrible.”
“Maybe he just needs someone to be nice to him,” Vic said.
“He should be nice to people then.”
The cartoon cat’s face stopped being iron shaped
“Sometimes it’s not as easy as that,” Vic said.
They sat in silence for moment.
“Why does mum have a girlfriend?”
Vic sighed. What to say?
 “Some women love men, some women love women, some love both. Some men love men, some love women, some love both. It’s just the way the world is. Your mother loves women.”
“So, do you love men?”
Vic laughed. “No, I’m in the loving woman camp. What about you?”
“Boys are more fun, they play football but Isabella Macintosh gives me butterflies.”
“Ah and who is Isabella Macintosh?”
“She’s Dylan’s older sister, and she plays football.”
“Does she know you like her?”
“No,” Elis hid himself in Vic’s side.
“You should tell her.”
“Dad.”
The cartoon cat held the cartoon mouse by its tail.
“Dad, did you and mum love each other?”
“Yes, very much. Especially around the time you were born.”
“So, she used to love a man and now she loves a woman?”
“As I said, some people like both. And there are no hard and fast rules, maybe one day you will meet a boy who makes you feel how Isabella does now. Maybe, I’ll meet a man who made me feel like your mother did. You never know.”
Elis stared at the screen, Vic could almost see his brain churning.
“If you and mum loved each other so much, why don’t you anymore?”


To be continued.

Thank you so much for supporting my blog over the last few years and don't forget to look out for the bonus posts over the next few weeks. 


Thursday 6 July 2017

The Rose Bush

For audio click here 
Kev sauntered along the path, enjoying the mixture of sunshine and breeze on his face. To a casual observer, he looked like a man out for a stroll, but Kev was at work. His eyes darted from window to window, door to door looking for opportunities. He only needed a crack, a slim sliver that he could snake through. Then a second to snaffle a laptop, an iPad or a phone, maybe if he struck lucky, there’d be a full house and he’d get all three. He thought of his old dad, how tough it was for him trying to run down the street with those chunky video records under his arm, no wonder he had a bad back. There were no safety videos, how to lift for thieves. So much easier in this digital age.
Ground floor flat, windows open. A yawning invitation. The only problem was the rose bush directly outside the window but that could be negotiated. He bounced up the steps, and peered into the windows. It was like an Aladdin’s cave, a Mac, an iPad and not one but two iPhones and not a soul to be seen.
            “Happy Christmas,” Kev said. He held a branch carefully to one side and hopped through the window. He stuffed the laptop into his rucksack, the phones in his pocket and the iPad in his hand. Then, the toilet flushed. he looked around to see if there was anything else to grab. Decided it was best to make a break for it. Like a cat, he leapt onto the window sill.
            “Oi What the…”
            Kev looked back over his shoulder. “Later loser,” he said. But as he was about to jump his foot slipped. “Fuck.” he fell forward into the rose bush. “Ow, fuck, ah,” Thorns ripped his skin, and tore his clothes, petals stuck up his nose. “Achoo,” Kev sneezed.  “Help me, I’m stuck,” he said and then sneezed again.
            He heard a voice behind him.
            “Yes, police please. Yes, I have a toerag in my rose bush.”
            “Don’t call the police. You can have your stuff back,” Kev sniffed, “Ow,” Kev struggled in the bush and felt another thorn dig into him. “Help me,” he sneezed again and tears dripped from his eyes.
            “They’ll be here in five minutes,” the voice said.
            “Aargh,” Kev sniffed, a bee landed on the rose that was close to his nose. He struggled against his trap. “Fuck, ow,” HE heard a rip, he dropped down, so his nose landed in the dirt. He pulled again at the bush and painfully broke free. He sneezed, and staggered to his feet.
            “Fuck you loser,” he said and ran. Okay, he’d lost his rucksack, and dropped the iPad but he still had the phones and his freedo…”

            “What have we here?” Kev looked up and saw a burly policeman in his path, he looked behind, two more police officers stood there. Blood dripped from his cheek onto the pavement. There was no escape.

Wednesday 5 July 2017

Train Diaries

For audio click here

“If you see something that doesn’t look right,” the lady on the Tannoy told me, “text the British Transport Police on…” I can’t remember the number now, but she went on to say, “you see it, we’ll sort it.”
I was on Cardiff Central’s platform one, starting at the monstrosity that is the new BBC HQ half built just across the way. It was the first time I’d seen the progress in a while and to be honest it didn’t look right, not right at all. There didn’t seem to be enough space for what they were trying to achieve. It reminded me of when my sisters used to try to squeeze into jeans that were about three sizes too small for them back in the eighties. I wasn’t sure what the British Transport Police could do about it, but they’d just promised me if it didn’t look right, they’d sort it. I got my phone out and started composing the message.
            Fair play, they pinged a message back to me almost immediately. And what’s more they wanted to talk to me about my concerns. Now, if you’ve ever complained to airlines, you’ll know it takes them up to six months to reply, and then they blow up some small print to show that they are not responsible for something that is clearly their fault. So, I was impressed with the speed that the BTP got back to me. I replied saying I was already on the train to London and they told me it was no matter, they’d arrange for a colleague to meet me at Paddington. Wow, this really was excellent customer service.
            Sure enough, a boy and girl in blue were waiting on the platform at Paddington, but they didn’t smile when I introduced myself.  Maybe being a transport copper in London wasn’t as fun as being one in Cardiff.
            “Come with us,” the female said. I followed.
            They led me into the bowels of Paddington, through doors and corridors that I never knew existed, until we reached an interview room.
            “Sit,” she said and closed the door on me, leaving me alone.
There were yellow stains on the ceiling where water had dripped through. The table was marked with scratches; names, a love heart and a childish drawing of male genitalia. I rocked back on a chair like a teenager and waited for the two officers to come back.
            The door swung open, there were still no smiles on show. The pair sat down and looked at me.
            “You look like an intelligent man, Mr Davies,” the woman said.
            “I’ve got a degree or two,” I said.
            “So, we presume you know that not everything is meant literally?”
            “I do,” I said. “Somethings are metaphorical.”
            “And we presume you know wasting police time is a serious matter.”
            “Wasting police time? Who’s wasting police time?”
            “That text number is a very important anti-terrorist hotline, people who abuse it are potentially diverting manpower away from a serious incident.”
            “Ah,” I said, I see,” the penny finally dropped. “You should change the wording then,” I said.
            “I think you should stop trying to be a comedian,” she stared at me.
            “Why, have you seen my act?”
            Not a flicker of a smile on her face.

            “We’ll caution you this time,” she said, “but next time, you won’t be so lucky,”