Hi everyone,

I'm slowly beginning to recover from the shock of losing all the posts I wrote over a few years, and I've decided to start writing it again, but to also copy posts onto a wordpress blog, so there are two copies. There are serious problems with the Fractal Publishing website, which seems to come and go, and, as most of the information about what I do, (along with my references), are on there, it is more than a little disheartening. This is the link to my amazon author page, with books still in print. (Most things are out of print now, and many have only been published in magazines.)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Philippa-Roberts/e/B0034NLYW8

The word 'Stargleam' is a good one to put in in a Google search for me. 'Pippa (or Philippa) Roberts Stargleam' brings up quite a few relevant links, and distinguishes me from the jeweller, Philippa Roberts, and all the other people who share my name. (How dare they?! :D) I used to have to keep a low profile online, and so have always had to use pseudonyms. Eleanor Theyer was the name I used for my journalism.

So... that's the dull bit of the post done. I need to tell you all that I am doing now. :) The play and novel for the Hull University project are done, and I'm in an interim period before writing the next play for them. I'm using the time to work on things that I did years ago. I'm still finding that I'm on a steep learning curve, which is frustrating it some ways, as I look at things I wrote, even a few months ago and realise I can improve them. I have always been a terrible perfectionist, and all through my teens I compulsively rewrote a novel. It was quite sad as an adult to look back and see that the first draft was far and away the best. The only sort of rewrite that works for me now is a) to move information around and incorporate more detail. b) to rewrite the entire book or play, changing the structure (and I've had to do that a few times!)

I'm slowly revising Things You Can Do With Chips, and I've decided to write Miz Margenon's Jungle for adult actors. I'm sad about it in a way, because I think it would be really valuable for a YA audience, with the help of a teacher, or other adult to discuss it. I've talked to director, Paul Milton at the Cheltenham Everyman, and to other writers, and the general consensus seems to be that I should write it for adults. It's a very powerful, and also a visually striking story, so I hope this is the right solution at last.

On the novel front I'm writing two things. The first is a ghost story for a YA audience. I wrote the first draft a few years ago, and now I'm revising it. The second is an adult mystery. I'm still plotting out the background at present. You can see my hero and heroine on my boards on Pinterest. Or, at least, people who look very like them. :) (Adrien Brody and Michelle Pfeiffer. :)) I love Adrien Brody's face -sensual, intelligent and beautiful. I fear my heroine will go crazy about him. :D I've tried to upload an image from pinterest, but this software won't let me do it. Grrrr.

So, that's where I am now. I do work too many hours, and I do go to a lot of workshops around the country, but I'm doing the work I absolutely love.

See you all again soon,

Pippa x

Tips for Writers: How to Cope with Rewriting

Hi everyone,

Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! I've spent a lot of it on my own, as there are no buses, and I didn't want to stay away. I've been studying writing style (no, you're never too old to learn!) I have Tom Bailey's book, 'On Writing Short Stories'. It is published by OUP, and it is most definitely NOT one of your write-to-formula books.

I have learnt useful things from it. Perhaps the most useful thing of all was a chapter by Robert Boswell, about how he got over a block on rewriting. He describes how he used to do anything to avoid it, and I could clearly recognise myself in his avoidance tactics. It's just too daunting, especially if you are a perfectionist and see the faults clearly. I also find it quite painful to realise that I can be so clumsy and inept. (Moi?) Much of my work that hasn't come out right first time is still sitting on the computer.

Robert Boswell writes the chapter on transitional drafts, and explains how he finds it best to tackle one issue at a time. He starts by correcting any minor grammatical, or punctuation changes, then moves on to another particular issue. If he feels that one character has come out with dialogue that's a bit flat, for instance, he will move on to that next. When he's done his best with that he will work at something else - perhaps making another character stronger. Each issue will be tackled in a new draft (with the first drafts - of course - carefully saved on the computer.)

I found this very useful. I do do it in practise, but I had never broken it up in my head, if you see what I mean. It makes it far less terrifying. I used to always feel I was writing one new draft instead of several (or many). This is why I have never understood how some writers claimed to have written 50 or more drafts. In fact, I now know, I've been doing it myself, and not giving myself enough credit for it.I wrote 522 drafts of my last play. (Only joking. :D)

The way you think about things is everything! I'll never be terrified of rewrites again, which is just as well because I have a load of them waiting for me at present.

See you all again soon,

Pippa x

Poetry Readings Pippa Roberts, Cheltenham

MY POETRY READINGS Pippa Roberts, Cheltenham


Hi everyone,

My last post was so sad I thought I'd better follow it up with something more upbeat, now I'm feeling slightly better. I still wake up crying in the mornings, but I do firmly believe that, if your love is not wanted in one place you should give it in another.

I have had a wonderful idea for another children's play - but more of that another day. Suffice it to say that it concerns some wicked witches and a cat called Humphrey. :)

I thought I'd tell you about the poetry readings I do in residential homes, and for senior groups, today. These give so much pleasure to me, and (I'm told) to the people I read to. Sometimes I'm asked to read my own poems, but I usually do a selection from a variety of poets, with poems from different periods, linked by a common theme.

Today I read poems that were about winter and Christmas. We went from Thomas Hardy to Robert Frost, to Louis MacNeice, to Ted Hughes, to Maya Angelou, and, (of course!), to my dear Effie M R. This is one of her poems about Christmas:


Do you realise Christmas is near?
I'm afraid there'll be but little of cheer;
It just seems a farce when hearts are sore
And war's destruction lies right at our door;
Still I suppose we must see it through
And say yet again, "A merry Christmas to you."

I guess you are hoping that I will make
A nice rich spicy and iced Christmas cake,
Well, there will be a cake of some sort, it's true
Of currants and raisins, I have just a few;
But icing! - dear me, you may look aghast, -
But icing sugar's a thing of the past!

A Christmas pudding, with brandy sauce! -
Really good people, - I'd love to, of course, -
But that's disappeared, along with the whisky,
There's nothing this year to make you feel frisky;
But we'll be thankful for what we can get,
Even though the fare's plain, we haven't starved yet.


Thank goodness we don't have to worry about a lack of brandy sauce or whisky. :D

I came out and met a man who offered to give me my own baby. Hadeha. I suspect he'd have enjoyed the making more than the childcare.

I just want to play with my sweet Isaac again. All blessings on his dear dear head.

Pippa :)x

Pippa Roberts, Cheltenham: Poetry for Children (or Parents?) Louisa, the Boxer

Well folks, I promised a blog post and it's nearly one am, so I'm going to paste a poem. Here's Louisa, the Boxer, which I wrote some time ago. It's always popular at readings. Enjoy!

Louisa, the Boxer

A little girl was bright and strong;
Feisty, fisty all day long;

Her father, he was very proud:
He went round boasting, very loud,
'She'd make a boxer, our Louise.
She drives the fella's to their knees!'

She played with friends, on normal days,
And kept up with the latest craze:
It was good fun; they never fought,
They hardly had a nasty thought.

But then a gang of bullies came
And threatened them, and spoiled their game.
These bullies jeered and grabbed their wrists,
And squeezed at them, with vicious twists;
They pushed them forwards, so they fell,
And, with small tortures, made life hell.

Louisa danced upon her toes
And hit a bully on the nose.
She dodged and dived, and gave a shout
And punched and punched, and swerved about,
Till all the bullies ran away
And left those little ones to play.

Louise became their hero then,
They shouted, yelled and cheered her on,
But then a dreadful deed was done
That knocked her out and frightened them.

A bully smashed her on the head
And for a while she seemed quite dead.
And when she got up from the floor
She wasn't feisty any more:
She was the silent, solemn sort
Who made her bed and never fought,
She did the cleaning, washed the clothes
And never danced upon her toes;
She never sang and never screamed
And never lived and never dreamed.

Until one day she saw that lad
Who'd knocked her down and smashed her head:
A sudden impulse made her rise
And go to glare into his eyes.

He trembled, I can tell you that;
The nasty sneaky little rat!
He'd hit her when she was quite small
But now she'd grown and she was TALL!

He said, 'I am a nice man now,'
She knew he lied, and punched him, POW!
And as he lay upon the floor
She felt surprise, and then she saw
Her fist was strong and steady still:
She only lacked a boxer's skill.

And now her strength had all come back
She longed to punch and kick and smack.
Life was too calm for such a girl,
She loved to fight and twist and whirl!

Her father still was very proud
And boasted long and boasted loud,
'You'd make a boxer, our Louise,
You'd still drive fella's to their knees!'

She started boxing in the gym
With sparring partners, Jack and Tim.
She bought a punchbag and she asked
For a speedball; light and fast:
She found some gloves, which made her fists
Look huge and black upon her wrists.

She learnt to jab; she learnt to hook;
She learnt each move that's in the book;
She learned to sense things in her gut
And learnt to make an upper cut.

Once she was dealt a 'rabbit punch':
Her neck did twist; her spine did crunch,
But still she rose above the pain
And went right back, to fight again.

Other fouls might knock her down
But she fought clean and held her ground.

'Street fighters' fought an angry game:
She matched their skill and did the same.
She grew more skilled with every bout
And soon no one could knock her out.
Louise was glad she had grown tall
For now, as champ, she beat them all!

* * *

One day Louisa met her match,
She biffed and biffed, and he biffed back.
His skill was equal to her own;
She liked the game, though neither won.

One day she met him in the street
And nearly biffed him, but his feet
Dodged quickly, and his fingers caught
Her hand, and held her as she fought.

She was enraged, and scowled and spit:
He didn’t seem to mind a bit.
He smiled at her; a lovely smile,
And said, ‘Louise, I like your style.
‘I like your moves; I like your walk;
Could we just stop a while and talk?

He let her go, but she looked grim
And scowled and grimaced back at him.
He shrugged and grimaced back, ‘OK,
Forget it then: I’ll go away.’

Louisa dodged a little more
And punched the air, and kicked the floor.
‘I don’t talk: I fight,’ she said.
‘I think we need to talk,’ he said.

She talked and talked, for years and years,
And as she talked she told the fears
That made her youth and childhood grim:
He said it all made sense to him.
His life had been a hard one too,
He’d been hurt, but he’d come through.

Next thing the papers blazed the news,
‘Louisa married! Gone on cruise!’

Louisa’s picture smiled, at ease
And strong, but with a hint of tease
In her blue eyes. I’m told they sailed away
And, I don’t know, but some do say,
That the pair who fought off sharks
And steered the ship through foreign parts:
And shot a bear that grabbed a child
When they were anchored in the wild,
And wrestled with a wolf, and won,
Were our Louisa and her man.

All I can say, for certain sure
Is that they loved for ever more.

Gloucestershire Arts Perspectives - Effie M Roberts and Skylines Project, Theatre Centre, London.

Hi everyone,

This is just a very quick post, as I have been absent for so long. Firstly to say that Cheltenham Arts Perspectives has posted a file online, with the introduction I wrote for the books by Effie M Roberts, my grandmother. I don't think I can attach a pdf file to this but the link, for anyone who is interested is:

http://www.freewebs.com/glassman2004/effierobertspoet.htm

They haven't mentioned that the poems are still in copyright, but they are. (I'm going to have to get them to amend that!

Otherwise I've been working on lots of small projects to bring in the cash, and communicating with people about ideas and problems on a larger scale. Discussions with the Skylines project, resulting from a feedback form I filled in, have been particularly productive, and I really can't praise them enough.

As usual I'm rushing for a bus and have to go, but I'll see you all again soon. :)

Skylines Children's Theatre Writing Feedback. Blog by Pippa Roberts, Cheltenham Everyman Writers' Lab

Hi everyone,

Good news about the extract from Miz Margenon's Jungle. The feedback from the children was resoundingly positive, and they were asking all the questions I wanted them to be asking. Just as well, because I've already gone on and written the rest. :D

For anyone who's missed previous posts this is the link to the Skylines project.



I've emailed Marigold at the Theatre Centre, as she's in charge of schools' productions. I'm hoping she'll be prepared to read it. (Fingers tight crossed!)

In the meanwhile I've been applying for big writing jobs, and small ones, to keep the wolf from the door. I've just written a blog for this outlet:

http://www.personalisedgiftsshop.co.uk/occasions/personalised-christmas-gifts.html

It''s a UK company and they do lots of personalised gifts. I'm quite tempted to start shopping there now... That's the trouble with me, I'm so good at spending my earnings! :D

I'm waiting to hear about one or two big jobs, writing stories for a number of projects, and, of course, still doing my science degree. I'm finding genetics fascinating, and I know that stories will definitely come out of these studies one day. :)

See you all again soon.

Pippa x

Skylines Children's Theatre Performance: Blog by Pippa Roberts, Cheltenham Everyman Writers' Lab.

Hello again,

Just a few quick lines to say that I am reliably informed that the short extract from my play, Miz Margenon's Jungle went down well with the children in the Studio Theatre, as did the contributions from all of Cheltenham Everyman's Writers' Lab. :) http://www.theatre-centre.co.uk/skylines/member-profiles/f686db278ac9593e310afd5881e1101f/

I have been through the whole script of Miz Margenon's Jungle now, and am astonished to find that it is not the complete rubbish I thought. I wrote it before I knew the first thing about structuring plays, but with some very minor changes it should be okay, and I was astonished at the raw power in it. (I'm always convinced that everything I've done is rubbish... self confidence not being my strong point.) My worry has always been that it is a play for girls, as it is a modern fairy tale about domestic violence, and there are no male role models. I'm trying to tweak it slightly, without destroying its original force.

Our poor little victims in the Skylines project now have to write down their thoughts about what they have seen, and we writers will be provided with copies. I'm really glad of that, as I was ill and had to go home. I'll let you know what feedback I get. :)

See you all soon,

Pippa x