I have updated my About page to include the link to my latest collection of short stories, Street Walker and other stories. I have also corrected the link to my Amazon author page. For my About page, please visit: http://newauthoronline.com/about/
I have decided to spend more time on my writing which means that blog posts will be less frequent, 2-3 a week, sometimes more and, on occasions less. In addition to my blogging and writing I have a full time job. Balancing the competing demands of work, blogging, writing (not to mention friends)! Isn’t always easy, hence my decision to blog less frequently. I won’t be disappearing so don’t open the champagne just yet! I will continue to lurk in the depths of the web popping up from time to time with blog posts and comments!
I very much appreciate all my followers so rest assured I won’t be vanishing into the deep blue yonder!
Kevin
As someone who is registered blind I am ultra independent. I live alone and navigate the streets with the assistance of my trusty guide dog, Trigger. There are, however instances where I require help and yesterday evening was one such.
On my way home from work, about 5 minutes from the flat, Trigger stopped dead in his tracks. It being dark the limited vision I do possess was rendered next to useless. I stood stock still waiting for the sound of approaching footsteps. Fortunately I didn’t have long to wait. A man approached and in broken English indicated that I should take his arm. In fact he tried to take mine but it being far easier (and the approved procedure) for guides to allow visually impaired people to hold their arm I gently disengage my hand and, taking his arm allowed my companion to guide me round the obstacle.
During our brief encounter I asked my new found friend what was causing the obstruction. He responded
“Sorry I am from Russia, I don’t speak English”. I smiled, shook his hand, thanked him and continued on my way home.
The whole incident reminded me powerfully of our common humanity. One man, (not my fellow countryman) saw another soul in need of help and rather than continuing on his merry way he stopped and offered assistance. The fact that he was Russian, that we couldn’t understand one another barely figured in our interaction. It was an act of spontaneous kindness for which I feel extremely grateful. People are just that, people. Nationality and ethnic origin don’t matter, it is the person within, (the soul for want of a better word) which counts and this individual possessed a good soul.
Standing in my kitchen, peeling an orange, I was arrested in my progress by a sound cold, short and sharp – The barking of one of the many foxes who make their homes in and around Crystal Palace. “Bark” the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Once again, “bark”, what are you about my friend? Do you hunt for food or call to your brethren? My dog lies seemingly unperturbed in his bed. He is your distant cousin but on this evening acknowledges you not. Sometimes he stands, nose pressed against the window, intent on you, his distant relative in the garden far below, but tonight he communes not with you. Fox, dog, so close and yet so far removed. Creature of domesticity, something wild lurks within. Sometimes you give short, sharp barks like your relation yet, if your paths chanced to cross you would give chase. You are, my dog, mine but not wholly so. You are part of the domestic hearth but yet have a paw in the wilderness. When you dream you are, I think closer to the wild fox calling at my window than you are to puny man.
The barking has ceased but the sound of death lingers on.
I like to follow other people’s blogs. Interacting with others is, after all part of the fun of blogging as sooner or later you get bored talking to yourself! Likewise I love receiving comments and commenting on other people’s blogs. To me a blog which does not accept comments is a dead entity. It may well contain interesting content but without the ability to interact with the blogger his/her site does, in my view lack a certain vibrancy.
One of the difficulties with allowing comments is separating the wheat from the chaff. My site receives a fair number of wheaty (have I just invented that word)?! Comments, however the blog also gets bombarded by chaff (spam)! Akismet (the spam filter used by WordPress) captures the overwhelming majority of junk mail consigning it to a dedicated folder where it can be reviewed by the blog owner. The beauty of Akismet is that it does not entail the person commenting attempting (often unsuccessfully) to solve a visual Captcha. Captchas are visual puzzles which must be solved prior to those wishing to comment or contact the site owner being able to do so. For a brief period I maintained a site on Blogger. Blogger employs Captcha and low and behold not a single comment did I receive on my site hosted there. Given that I receive a fair number of comments on my WordPress hosted site (which does not utilise Captcha) and I had none while using Blogger, I attribute my success in attracting comments (on WordPress) to the lack of Captcha. Unless a person feels extremely strongly on a given issue they are, when faced by a tricky Captcha likely to give up and move onto a blog where the Captcha monster is not lurking ready to pounce on the unlucky would be commenter!
As a blind computer user I have a particular detestation of Captcha. Screen reading software such as Jaws (the package I use to convert text into speech and Braille enabling me to use a standard Windows computer) only recognises text (it is not able to recognise images). Many sites have no alternative to a visual Captcha. Others do have audio alternatives, however most of these are, in my experience more or less unintelligible so, if you employ Captcha on your site you are, albeit unintentionally locking out many visually impaired people from the possibility of participating fully on your site.
As a blogger I do understand the problem posed by spam. Spammers are selfish individuals who ought to earn an honest living rather than spending their time bombarding site owners and e-mail users with solicitations for fake products. However spam is not going to disappear any time soon and we will continue to be faced with the issue of how best to minimise it’s pernicious effects. Given the existence of Akismet I can not see a valid reason for anyone relying on clunky old Captcha. If you must use Captcha then please choose a non-visual version. For example “prior to posting please add four and 3 and type your answer”. Such a Captcha can be read by screen reading software and is intelligible to the overwhelming majority of the human population. It also has the benefit of preventing automated spam bots from wreaking havoc by spraying your site with spam. Better still use a programme like Akismet which dispenses with the need for Captcha altogether!
Over the festive season I fell into conversation with a lady. The conversation ranged far and wide and at one juncture touched on the subject of books. My partner at the dinner table remarked that she had only read 2 books, (I don’t recollect the title of both works but one of the books was “Flowers in the Attic”). My companion went on to ask me for recommendations regarding what she should read. I responded that literary tastes are highly personal matters (I return to Wuthering Heights again and again because it is, in my view a wonderful work of fiction while others find nothing of merit in it). I went on to describe how I’d enjoyed reading Kevin Cooper’s thriller Meido and recommended his book to my companion. At one point during the conversation another of those present said that “it isn’t like that round here” by which she meant that people don’t read books in this area.
The above conversation took place in a fairly typical suburb of Liverpool. I don’t like using the term but for want of anything better the area is “working class” comprised of (mainly) owner occupied houses inhabited by people engaged in occupations ranging from barmaids and cleaners to those employed in clerical work.
The implication that people living in a given area do not read books is, of course a sweeping generalisation. My grandfather who had never gone on to higher education and lived in a council house throughout his life spent many hours reading to me. I well recall the glass bookcase which stood in the spare bedroom chock full of books ranging from Enid Blyton’s Famous Five to works of poetry. It is, I believe largely due to my grandfather who was “working class” (oh how I hate to use that term as people are, at bottom individuals not social groups), that I gained my love of literature and went onto university to read history and politics.
Sadly there is among certain people a lack of aspiration which is exemplified by the view that people round here don’t read. This can, if we fail to take care become a self fulfilling prophecy (I.E. many homes contain few, if any books but are replete with wide screen televisions to which parents consign their children rather than spending precious time reading to them). A house full of books won’t guarantee happiness but it will assist in producing rounded individuals with a love of literature and a broad perspective on the world.
There are, fortunately organisations working to promote education among all people. Perhaps the most notable of these is The Workers’ Education Association which has, since 1903 been striving to uplift the aspirations, through education of all segments of society with particular emphasis on those of (that term again) “the working class”). All power to their elbo. For information on the WEA please visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Workers%27_Educational_Association.
If you have queries regarding my writing or would like to do a guest post on newauthoronline please e-mail me at newauthoronline @ gmail.com (the address is given in this manner in an attempt to defeat the scourge of the internet, spammers. Alternatively please feel free to comment on any of my posts.
Kevin
Two of my short stories, “Samantha” and “The First Time” deal with the lives of women engaged in prostitution. In “Samantha” Sam is trapped in the world of prostitution and it is touch and go as to whether she will survive or end her days in the cold and murky waters of the river Mersey. In “The First Time” we meet Becky, a young graduat who enters the arena of prostitution as an escort in order to pay her creditors. Becky fears becoming homeless and the dread of sleeping on the streets leads her to take up sex work.
Given my interest in prostitution I was interested to read the following post on the issue in India, http://cupitonians.wordpress.com/2010/08/03/guest-blog-legalizing-prostitution/. The post is worth a read and I recommend it to you.
For my Amazon author’s page please visit http://www.amazon.co.uk/K.-Morris/e/B00CEECWHY/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
I have updated my Goodreads author profile to include my latest collection of short stories, “Street Walker And Other Stories”. For my Goodreads author profile please visit https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6879063.K_Morris.
Kevin
K Morris - Poet 