The Genesis of Amelia Hewman

Amelia Hewman was the nom de plume of a letter of protest I wrote to a local monthly newspaper, The Triangle in 2003. Amelia then took on an extraordinary life of her own as the protagonist in my doctoral thesis. It was she, not I, that explored the collected works of Alice A Bailey. I knew one day she’d re-surface and become a fully-fledged voice. While I get on with the grueling work of editing my current novel, she entertains me. I find in her good company. I hope you do to.

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5 Comments

  1. Thank you wordpress for my blog. Hello World! This is my very first blog post. I’m still clicking my way around this blog site, exploring tool bars, the dashboard, all kinds of options for this and that. I think I managed to upload a photo of myself, write some uninspired tag, link to my author profile on the Goodreads app and link via rss feed to my Amazon Author page. Phew!I also linked up to facebook, where so many of my posts are lost in that black hole called news feed, or they appear so far down on my own wall (oops Timeline) that no-one would ever find them again, even me. Then there are all the little comments that disappear within hours, sometimes minutes. That’s why I now have a blog. Not because I attach a huge amount of importance to my ramblings. But it will be nice to have a more static cyber-repository for feedback and occasional musings than facebook. Here goes…

  2. Just got back from Manchester Royal Infirmary after taking someone to an appointment and noticed your blog.
    It’s something I’ve been toying with the Idea of myself. For some of the same reasons as you, I never bother to put anything serious on facebook, so I guess I can empathize a little with the way you feel.
    Sometimes, you encounter things or situations that get you thinking and you want to share your feelings with others and apart from songwriting, what better way than a blog?
    I won’t go Into too much detail now, but whilst I was waiting for the patient to be seen, I had a wander round the hospital area and came across a former abode of Emmeline Pankhurst and her two daughters. It really got me thinking how It was then and how It could have been today had It not been for her.
    I was reading the Info on the wall of the building and couldn’t help overhearing a conversation two guys were having while smoking their cigs. It went; “Gardens a mess” then the other said “Yeah, they could do with a man about the place”. Then came the childish cynical macho laughter…And they say ‘Ignorance Is bliss’?
    Anyway, good luck with this.

    1. Thanks Paul. Ah yes, the Pankhursts. I have a short story in mind based on a recent facebook exchange between a woman of my sort of heart, and a couple of bigoted males. It was so fascinating I printed off the entire conversation and told the woman I was planning to write a story around it. She was delighted. I unfriended the man in question!
      And the struggle goes on. And on and on. We would do well to understand and embrace irony and paradox. It strikes me, for example, that the relinquishing of power (domination), is empowering. Until men realise that, they won’t let go. Paradox and the ego – sounds like a PhD title, although it needs a lengthy sub-title. Any ideas??
      Wishing you a beautiful day.

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