Jennifer Wilkin Shaw was awarded joint second place in the WforW Gerogina Hawtrey-Woore Award for Independent Authors, Non-Fiction Category with the beautifully written a Testament of Grief.

My morning begins at 7.30 when I switch on Classic FM, stroke two cats, breakfast from a tray, including a pot of Earl Grey, and start reading. The latter, a pre-requisite to writing, is company and gets my brain into gear.  My choice is literary biography or rather, ‘other sillies like me’ and often the spouses of those historical literary figures, many of whom were writers themselves: Constance Wilde, Sylvia Plath, Assia Wevill.

I wake up as a writer and now having won a prestigious award I feel recognised and proud. After breakfast I answer emails, usually about my work, plan appointments, future talks, and have a quick audio chat.  I begin writing just after 9. At the moment I am working on a new book and fine tuning my third play, getting it ready for a staged read.

Lunch is another chance for reading, part of the writer’s toolbox, and a change of setting, conservatory if warm, my big red sofa if not, and although I’d love to be with the Durrells, chatting and indulging around their huge communal table, at the moment I’m with George Orwell in Paris and London, again! At this point Crumble or Custard may saunter in and lure me into some time wasting, but I resist.

People who create have to be single minded and often alone. I depend on solitude to work, but I do have to balance it with social interaction, otherwise, as a writer living in the sticks, I run the risk of feeling cut off. I remember the first time I wrote; a piece about a lonely rabbit. I was seven and confined myself to my bedroom until I finished. Nothing much has changed! So in the afternoon I routinely go out! A coffee shop, independents mainly, different beans, different days, they expect me!

At Filter Through Coffee Shop, Holsworthy

Generally, people take you seriously as a writer if you sit in a corner, fresh from the shower, with a state of the art Apple Mac and headphones. In a western world that struggles with too much, I value the ‘less is more’ approach. Sitting amongst people, with a small piece of paper, a tiny sharp pencil, correcting the work saved on my phone.  My world seems miniature, even my coffee is in a dolls size tea cup a ‘double macchiato’, titchy! But I have produced some of my best monologues this way.

I walk for half an hour to an hour every other day, and after some food shopping I mosey home, meet a good friend for a meal, or sometimes go to the theatre. As a playwright, again this is important, but my default direction is the sofa, a decent glass of red, NCI S, then more corrections. A thoughtful couple of Beeb 2 or 4 programmes, loving Simon Schama’s presentations at the moment, it taps into my other love, Art History, and I am ready for bed; thankful for so many great friends, relatives coming into my life, and the freedom to write.

a Testament of Grief by Jennifer Wilkin Shaw pub Simone Bluestock Publishing

Available as e-book or paperback from: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Testament-Grief-Mothers-Story-Survival/dp/0995594902

www.facebook.com/jennifer.wilkinshaw

www.wordsforthewounded.co.uk

I have to admit that I came to this book as someone with very limited knowledge (and even less understanding) of Hokusai’s work. I hope I am not the only one who thought: ‘Hokusai? The Great Wave?’ and then could add very little more. If you are like me then you need this book. I suspect you will get even more from it if you already know something about late 18^th and 19^th century Japanese art.

Hokusai: The Master’s Legacy presents a selection of more than 200 works. It is a sumptuous volume with exceptionally high quality illustrations coupled with a text that supplies both a historical and an artistic context in which to explore these images.

Setting Hokusai’s life (1760 to 1849) and work in Japanese society gave me the opportunity to begin to appreciate the significance of details (the bow on an obi, the use of colour, the oblique indicators of seasons) and enriched my reading of the art. By pointing out that the arrival of the US Fleet in 1854 opened up Japanese ports to trade with Europe and the USA I realised why the passion for all things Japanese swept Europe soon afterwards. The fabrics, prints, furniture and porcelain must have been an explosive revelation of a new (to us) approach to design, technology and art. Realism gives way to minute detail of stylised figures, perspective is almost abandoned. Impressionism and Post Impressionism show some of the impact.

And I had no idea at all of Hokusai’s range. Yes, The Great Wave keeps its impact, but the landscapes (not just Mount Fuji) and the figurative work are a revelation. And although he was a significant master in his own time, and hugely influential, he did not work alone. The inclusion of a broad selection of works by his contemporary, Keisai Eisen, provides an interesting comparison of styles. Eisien’s seductive female portraits are particularly striking.

Take this book away and linger over it as I have done/am still doing. It will enrich your artistic understanding.

Hokusai: The Master’s Legacy is published by Skira.  Priced $55, £40, €46

Penny Deacon is the author of A Thankless Child and A Kind of Puritan.

Pub: Creative Content Ltd. Available on Amazon.co.uk

Denise Beddows took joint second place in the WforW Georgina Hawtrey-Woore Award for Independent Authors: Non-Fiction Category with the brilliant and engrossing Odd Man Out. And here she tells us of a typical day in her life.

Many of us recall with warm nostalgia the bedtime stories our mothers used to read to us. My late mother, a former wartime bus conductress in Lancashire, was an avid reader of lurid press accounts of murder. She could recount every detail of every murder of the twentieth century, and recount them she did – every time I begged a bedtime story. Not for me the gentle tales of Noddy or Peter Rabbit. No, tragic Ruth Ellis, last woman hanged in Britain, and Haigh, the acid bath murderer, were my bedtime companions. So, it came as a surprise to me when, only recently, I learned that one of my mother’s fellow ‘clippies’ was executed for murder; a murder Mum never once mentioned.

My curiosity piqued, I set about researching the case. Contemporaneous press reports were brief, perhaps because, although the accused confessed to the crime, she never said why she did it. She did not give evidence in court and nor did she appeal her death sentence. So, had middle-aged Margaret Allen brutally beaten to death Nancy Chadwick, an elderly woman whom she barely knew, and if so, why?

The victim, an eccentric and parsimonious scrounger, was described by her own nephew as ‘abnormal’. The killer, too, was unconventional to say the least. Allen, the twentieth of twenty-two children, born in extreme poverty, believed she was really a man and insisted on being addressed as ‘Bill’. The only explanation Allen offered for the killing was ‘I must have been in one of my funny moods’. The police presented the case as a murder in furtherance of a robbery, albeit that Allen was penniless when arrested. Clearly, the case warranted further investigation.

Close scrutiny of the records showed that much crucial evidence was suppressed by police at the time. Numerous witnesses claimed they had seen the victim hours after the alleged time of death. Statements by Allen’s family, putting her three miles away at the time of the murder, were neither tested nor put before the court. Scurrilous allegations made in court about Allen’s character and behaviour were demonstrably untrue, and public opinion was prejudiced by allegations of a lesbian relationship between Allen and her close friend Annie Cook. Seemingly, like Ruth Ellis, Allen was hanged as much for what she was as for what she was alleged to have done.

Drawing on historic interviews, I also contacted people who had met Allen. Their recollections were of a kind and generous person, not at all the violent, brutish character portrayed in press reports. Although, after one of the shortest murder trials on record, the judge deemed this a ‘motiveless, senseless’ killing, I uncovered a very obvious potential motive.

There comes a point, however, when most researchers experience qualms about delving intrusively into a stranger’s background. Indeed, I questioned my own motives in exploring the intimate detail of Allen’s life. Was I seeking to establish Allen’s motive, to find reason to mitigate this awful crime, and, perhaps, even to prove her innocence, or was this simply morbid curiosity? After much soul-searching, I persuaded myself that, whilst curiosity was my motivation, my aim was to give a voice to a troubled and disadvantaged transgendered individual, a troubled soul who chose to say very little about herself or her crime but went quietly and with dignity to the scaffold. As Margaret’s executioner, Albert Pierrepoint, famously said: ‘murderers are so often ordinary people caught on the wrong foot’.

A volunteer researcher for several history and heritage groups, Denise regularly gives talks to a variety of community groups. She is married with one grown-up daughter.

Denise, who also writes under the name of D J Kelly, has also written the well received Buckinghamshire Spies & Subversives, The Famous and Infamous of The Chalfonts and Gerrards Cross, Chalfont St Peter and Gerrards Cross at War, A Wistful Eye – The Tragedy of a Titanic Shipwright, Running with Crows – The Life and Death of a Black and Tan, Homes for Heroes – Life in a 1940s Prefab (ghost written with Joan Brant).