gosh. guess who is in good housekeeping tomorrow?

darlings

such exciting news!

who-we-are-in-RL is going to be on Newsstands TOMORROW (not literally we hasten to add, but inside the glossy pages of a Very glorious British Magazine) in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

GHUKMarch2014the Lovely Editors at Good Housekeeping gave us a preview of our piece and we popped it on our other site and (due to the miracles of the h y p e r l i n k i n g properties of internet protocol) it’s here for you to read.

but – we hasten to add – do (if you’re in England tomorrow for business/pleasure) – pop into a newsagent and buy a copy just so we keep the print business flourishing.

*winktocamera4*

 

 

words by Rumer Godden, pictures by teamgloria.

darlings

we shall give space for Rumer Godden to speak – and illustrate some of her words with our own vision of the world.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERARichard’s book: 

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe Old Hall, England. 

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fb0206920c6411e3873022000a1fa909_7it feels as if Rumer Godden has been staying with us for a few weeks while we read the 2nd part of her autobiography –

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when we left this morning at 06:50 hours to meet a friend who lives on the next street it was still misty and the sun had not yet blown away the marine layer – we walked together through the still-quiet streets and talked about his summer on a mystical island and caught up with everything that has happened in both our lives and that wanted to be brought out into the sunlight and examined and mused over and put away in a new place with a sigh of satisfaction and then we stopped and drank coffee and the sun became hot, suddenly, and we walked back, slower than before, in the emerging heat of day.

but when we used the key to get back into the building and walk up the back stairs (past the swimming pool and over the car port) and into the apartment –

r u m e r  g o d d e n had left.

sadly bereft, we feel.

and yet glad she came to stay.

but all is not lost – Rumer is forever present in the midst of the tangles of the electronic impulses that underpin the interweb – can you see this Transmission in your Territory?

what *did* we do until the interweb came along? – writers were left inside their books – but now we can hear them (*shivers*) forever.

the Library has Requested Rumer’s return (we wonder who has asked for her next).

luckily they sent us an email (so Modern, as William would say) and told us they have a Huge Pile of books awaiting us.

isn’t life delicious?

well hello, helmut (newton).

gosh.

darlings.

yesterday, who-we-are-in-RL went to the Press Preview (we ADORE a Press Preview) of Herr. Helmut Newton’s exhibition and we tagged along (because it was in the CAA building and we’re sending Ever Such Intense Vibes in their direction for our movie scripts).

back to the Pictures.

*gasps*

blimey.

bit saucy.

*coversEyes*

but who-we-are-in-RL seems to have some Experience writing about such things and got an Arts Piece Published here:

we have No Idea where on earth she picked up such allusions and illusions and other things.

no idea At All.

*lookstocamera*

we took some very nice pictures at and around the CAA building and (*shhhhh* don’t tell anyone) Inside the Exhibition.

would you like to see them?

you are terribly Kind.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAMost Eye Opening of a Morning, we have to say.

thank goodness they laid on a lovely calming Lunch for Members of the Press (even chocolate-covered strawberries – yum – and a sandwich with multi-grain bread – with a fruit salad – delicious).

let’s look at that article again

blimey.

who knew?

and we thought she was just a Suit all those years.

still waters run deep.

just saying.

sixteen delicious and delirious hours with edna o’brien. @littlebrown

darlings

the jet lag has descended and not-having-our-reading-glasses (grrr, Delta Airlines Lost Property has Not responded as yet) means that we bought some shop-bought ones but they appear to have given us a halo dizzy shimmery effect out of the Right eye.

but the good news is that we spent the past sixteen hours (when not asleep – and we only managed to sleep off and on for a few of those) with the GLORIOUS edna o’brien (the Los Angeles County Library had sent us an email – how modern – while we were away in Manhattan last week saying her Memoir Had Arrived – we Dashed over there yesterday at 5.45PM promptly).

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ah (or ach) – what glorious and delicious and delirious hours those Have Been.

she’s a storyteller and no mistake.

and what a Grand Life (said in both the Irish and the NYC sense – big, good, epic, gorgeous).

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the pain, the peril, the love, the anger, the anguish, the signing-over-the-royalty-check/cheque (when a woman could not have her own bank account) to her husband, the torture of leaving one’s Land and yet the necessity to do that in order to survive and have a Very different Life to the one expected or planned for you that you threw into the sea and picked up your tatty coat and ran away to London (ah yes, we knew all the streets she talked of walking – just a few decades later but little changes when one is Young and terrified and broke and so horribly unbearably excited about the Future). OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAwe read in bed and when we got tired of doing that we got up and read on the sofa and then went back to bed.

all 300+ pages of it.

glorious.

glorious.

and EPIC.

not many women get to have a life that grand or with such magic in their veins just waiting to be set down on paper.

as Mr. McCrum* writes in The Guardian (of England):

I have saved the best for last, Country Girl (Faber £20), the memoir that Edna O’Brien says “I swore I would never write”, begun in her 78th year. As a Celt, O’Brien holds a secret communion with the mystery of things. She believes she “saw things before I actually saw them” – ie that her words were always within her. Certainly, hers is one of the most natural and lyrical voices to have come out of Ireland. Her literary DNA is both magical and forensic. No one can nail a scene, or a character, with quite the same perfect brevity. She has lived many lives and known many loves……….

*you may recall that we found Mr. McCrum most comforting during our medical leave, day 15, to be exact.

we usually avoid the first chapter or so of a Memoir – all small people have a depressingly similar experience of either idyll or hostage-kept-by-crazy-parents and neither of which is by choice – but Ms. O’Brien’s enchantment of the mind while still very young is a treasure to pore over and relish and, if we may risk a little disrespect, actually more interesting than the middle years where stars came-and-went for lunch (and did not go for hours during which time she clearly lost Writing Hours but was under the spell of some swarthy type or another).

but, ah, the tender years – she saw Everything and missed not an emotion in Taking It Down.

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here’s a Terribly English podcast, recorded in Ms. O’Brien’s own home.

now a quick Edna O’Brien anecdote for your pleasure, darlings:

when we worked on a British Newspaper in London one of our Editors was writing a story about Edna O’Brien and She CALLED the OFFICE.

it was a glorious moment.

our editor (Irish, himself and a fine impassioned writer) picked up the phone and shrieked (which he did a lot in those days) and held the phone slightly away from his ear so the five of us in the office (which also housed, on a part-time basis, a forthcoming award-winning novelist herself who, at the time, was writing witty beauty reviews) could Hear her strong Celt voice and rich fruity deeply sexy-naughty laugh.

Edna O’Brien herself.

as we live and breathe.

the rest of the day was a wash after that.

we all filed our copy and left early in a daze.

writing in a bistro.

darlings

well. well. well.

who-we-are-in-RL got Pretty Bold today and wrote something on Her blog (*sniffs* don’t you go Defecting over there, sweetie) because we told her if she wants to join us in being Tickled Pink about writing again, she needs to, you know, admit it.

so she did.

and we raised an eyebrow (archly and well-groomed, naturally) because it was actually rather affecting and she was a bit Overwhelmed after writing it because she is Used to talking about the whole geek-mode of the past (ahem) few years instead of Writing (we talk about it endlessly but that’s Our domain – literally).

it’s here, just in case you want to pop over There and take a look.

we’ll wait.

she’s rather shy in real life.

not that many people know that.

the accent is somewhat disarming and covers up for a great deal of inner turmoil apparently.

while she Wrote, we amused ourselves by reading more delicious vintage books from the Library and taking photographs of the creamy white roses, just blossoming gorgeously, around the apartment.

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#weadoreTallulahBankhead

don’t you?

so after she had finished writing her sweet little treatise on how she became a Writer we took her out to dinner to celebrate at a small parisian style bistro (with nice American-trained-smiley waiters) near where we live – all dark blood red walls and vast vintage Orangina posters from the 1950s, ladies with Large Hollywood Hair and suspiciously real fur coats – considering this is Southern California and gentlemen with real Tans who probably used to hang out with Sue Mengers by the pool).

when the owner’s cousin (Cookie) came by to chat to us at the end and said “What do you do?” (she said it in French but we weren’t concentrating) we suddenly had to swivel our head in the cloche hat (we wear it when we dine) and gasp because you-know-who said.

Je suis écrivain

we gave her a little tickle and she pulled the soft Dior-gray/grey/ pashmina closer and looked quite adorable.

Cookie took our card (it has both Her site and teamgloria.com therein under the titles of [real-life] and [virtual] which was Most Definitely Our idea – and people always do a nice little smile when they see that) and said she would invite us to Events at the bistro so we can meet a deeply glamorous Hollywood Francophile crowd.

Isn’t that delicious?

a big day.

and tomorrow we’re driving into the desert (Palm Springs) – so excited!

so much to celebrate.

who-we-are-in-RL is getting a Little more comfortable with our new Life, it seems.

of course it’s because of Us – not just teamgloria – You! *smilinggentlyviatheinterweb* too.

we Overheard her saying to someone the other day “Oh, well, that’s gloria, she just sort of took over.”

harrumph.

like she didn’t get to have a say in it.

*giggles*

noel, libraries and new lives

we look at you over the tea cup as we are waiting for the black saloon car to drive through rainy manhattan and take us to the airport – we are Bound for Spain on a flight this evening.

In the meantime, a short note before we do Last minute chores (check windows, leave note for Betty the post-mistress to Hold Mail/keep post at the sorting office until we Return, empty trash/rubbish disposal et-cet-era).

Yesterday we had the Good Fortune to spend time with jM, who has just completed his Day Job – forever – and is now engaged in the Most Delicious life of the full-time writer.

Isn’t that glorious?

jM had suggested an Afternoon at the performing arts division of the New York Public Library for the exhibition on the life, genius, work and mordant wit of Noel Coward.

Splendid is the word.

It was Splendid.

If you are in NY we do recommend it – lots of Telegrams and Scrapbooks from Cutting Services in the employ of a certain Gertrude Lawrence, playbills and opening night notes, the silver frames on the Piano (including a Most alluring Nureyev) and the opportunity to Don Headphones and watch snippets of ITV (oddly not BBC) television programs/programmes and Movies, featuring Noel.

By far the most smile-inducing glass cases were those with Noel’s dressing gowns.

We own a blue-blue dressing gown that is Awfully Similar, in homage, darlings.

See you in Espana!!

people we love: sally zigmond.

@SallyZig Rosedale Abbey, N Yorks

did some serendipitous surfing on the interweb and found this lovely writer – what a delicious description…..wish I could head to Yorkshire today and find a small farmhouse tea-shop and dreamily stare into the middle distance. 

Novelist and short story writer, over-prone to leaning on farm gates and gazing at the view.