I Before E, Except After C?

English: So many words to keep track of!. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If ever a writing rule was overstated, it must be this one. Once it becomes evident that there are more exceptions than examples following a rule, the rule becomes seriously unhelpful; redundant at best.

We all know about receipt, receive, ceiling, etc. But there are actually more words used in English that have the ‘ei’ construction than those using ‘ie’.

Don’t believe me? I offer a mere handful:

Heir, weir, Eire, weird, being, deific, leisure, meiosis, neighbour, eisegesis, neither, peignoir, reiki, seismic, vein, weigh, zein, either, feign, height, rein, reiterate, seine, seize, teise, veil, zeitgeist, eight, deign, deity, eider, feint, heifer, heinous, Leicester, peise, reign, feisty, geisha.

Have a think: I’m sure you’ll find hundreds more.

Okay, I accept that some of these are ‘foreign’ words, but English is a conglomerate language, made up of words and expressions stolen from invaders and the victims of Britain’s ancient and extensive empire. Modern English is said to contain over 1,000,000 different words, exceeding any other language.

So, to return to the rule: forget it. Your English teacher was wrong. Most schools in Britain have stopped preaching this erroneous rule now, so you can allow yourself to ditch it as well. Go on, you know you’d love to. It’s not helpful.     

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• Introduction

As it Seemed to Me, by John Cole, Reviewed.

This political memoir examines the journalist's thirty-odd years in the trade. It covers a period through which I lived, not quite contemporaneously with the author, who's senior to me by twenty years. Nevertheless, I watched his television reports through the period and, in reading this work, I could again hear the tortured vowels of his Ulster accent.

I always admired the man as a political commentator and reading the book only serves to increase that admiration for someone for whom honesty and pragmatic realism were clearly guiding principles. His neutrality continues, as it did during his long and illustrious career in a field for which he was truly fitted. Moving from his native Northern Ireland to England early in his working life, he served on such august bodies as the Guardian, the Observer and, of course, the BBC in various roles from reporter to editor, ending up as the senior political commentator for that broadcaster.

The book is written very much from the point of view of the observer of political life and there are places where the author's assumption of the reader's knowledge and interest in some of the minutiae is taken for granted. I never reached that level of absorption at the time and so certain passages became less clear to me and there were a number I skipped completely. But there are over 400 pages of dense prose here, so some skipping is, perhaps, excusable.

John Cole's delivery is clearly that of the experienced and professional journalist, with never a word wasted. He packs a great deal into each sentence and the writing can hardly be faulted for its presentation of a complex period of British history.

That I find myself in sympathy with his misgivings about many events and the attitudes of some politicians, particularly the imperious and overbearing Margaret Thatcher, obviously makes me more sympathetic to what he has to say. It's encouraging to know that my impression of our first female Prime Minister as an inflexible martinet with fixed ideas based on ideology rather than pragmatic reality is reinforced by this man who lived close to the action.

This is a book I read initially because it was on my shelves and I'd promised myself I'd read all such volumes before I bought any more. I can't recall how I came by it. Probably, it was one of a package offered by one of the many book clubs I've belonged to during my lengthy reading career. I'm sure I didn't buy it as a separate and targeted book at the time. But I'm glad I've given it the time it deserves, even if somewhat belatedly (it was published in 1995).

It's reinforced some of my impressions of the period, repudiated others, educated me about many and filled in gaps I hadn't realised existed in my knowledge of the time I lived through.

For any reader whose idea of a good book is restricted to the fantasies of fiction, there's nothing here for you. But for those interested in recent British history, the shenanigans of politicians or the profession of journalism, this is a damn good read and I recommend it to you.

Why I Set my Novel in the Yorkshire Dales.

Writers choose locations for their fiction for all manner of reasons. Sometimes it's because the place is a familiar haunt. Sometimes the setting is exactly right for the fabric of the story. Sometimes the landscape is so alien to the author that it stimulates his imagination.

I grew up in Yorkshire and it has been my home for much of my adult life, though by no means all of it. Many years ago, when I was married to my first wife, in fact, (and I've been married to my current lovely lady for coming up to 24 years) we were walking in a particularly remote and rugged part of the Yorkshire Dales. There are some sink holes in this area. For those who don't know, these are geological features that are best described as vertical caves. Often quite deep, usually narrow, they are places where water has eaten away the porous rock and left a deep pit in the surface of the Earth. The Buttertubs, as this particular set of sink holes is known, are a series of pits close to the narrow and precipitous road that leads from Hawes to Muker. Readily accessible, they are a tourist attraction for many motorists but few walkers.

It was a chill and windy day when I approached these holes in the ground, grey clouds skimmed a pale sun, and the gusty wind made waves through the long grass. At that time, the pits were unfenced and entirely open to public gaze with none of the modern obsessive concern for 'health and safety' rules. It was possible to step right up to and, indeed, over, the edges of these shafts. I am uncomfortable with heights and, since I was determined to gaze into the bottom of the largest and deepest, I sank to my knees and crawled forward until I could safely peer into the dim depths. As I did so, quite inexplicably, I was visited by a brief image of a woman's body at the bottom and the question was posed in my writer's mind, 'What would you do if you found a dead body down there?'

That thought stayed with me over the years. A divorce and remarriage took me to different parts of the country and overseas for the first time. But I was drawn again and again to the Yorkshire Dales until, almost on a whim, my wife and I with our new daughter just 2 years old, moved into the area to live. Our walks became regular events, regardless of weather. We experienced everything from dry thirsty heatwaves to icy winters cloaked in deep drifting snow and everything in between, as can only happen in good old island Britain.

It was whilst we lived in this location that the initial question slowly coalesced into a plot, peopled by the characters I had long lived with in my imagination. The story developed and the setting became part of the narrative, as much a character in the tale as Faith or Leigh, in fact. It was the natural setting for the rugged and tough tale and the fact that I was living in it made the descriptions so much easier. So, the first draft was completed at the same time as I renovated the house we'd bought and worked part time for a local holiday accommodation company.

Life came along, in the form of redundancy, just days before the new millennium was about to commence. At the age of 51, I understood my chances of re-employment in the area were slim and I moved the family back to my native East Yorkshire, where I found a job. It was some years before I found time to write again and dug out that first draft. I changed the viewpoint characters, giving both the male and female protagonists a chance to have their say in first person. I changed relationships that formed essential background to the story. I changed incidents. I changed the ages of the protagonists. What I didn't change was the setting. The Yorkshire Dales remained as valid a landscape as it had been from the beginning.

For those who don't know the area, it is a National Park. An area of outstanding natural beauty and considered by many to be the best walking country in Europe. It's populated by a native people who are as tough as the characteristic dry stone walls, as stubborn as the local sheep, as different as individuals as are the inhabitants of any region.

I changed the time frame to a period that was historically real: the severe drought of 1976, since the weather and the burgeoning philosophy of 'free love' allowed me to introduce a degree of external nudity that would otherwise be unlikely in this wild country. The nudity was an essential element in the relationship of the two protagonists and a useful tool in examining the fight between innocence and corruption that is at the heart of the story.

So, there you have it. Those are the reasons I came to set my romantic thriller, Breaking Faith, in one of the most beautiful parts of the English countryside. Many readers have commented on how apt the setting is. Whether you'll agree or not can only be determined by reading the book. And I give you the opportunity to do that for free here on this blog. Each week of this year I am posting a chapter. There are 50 in all, so it'll last for almost the whole year. And each post is accompanied by one of my photographs taken in the Dales, so you can experience the landscape for yourself. I started in January and the link to that first instalment is here. You'll find the rest of the early chapters listed in the archive and you're welcome to join the readers as we take the journey together to the end.

Stuart's Daily Word Spot: Face

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Face: noun - front of head, from forehead to chin; visage, countenance; corresponding part of an animal, insect, or other creature; a portrait; form of address to someone, especially if admired or despised. Slang; the countenance as a way of expressing feelings, character; what's shown by expression; a grimace; the countenance with regard to beauty, make-up, cosmetics; the surface of anything; in Astrology - a third of a sign of the zodiac, extending over 10 degrees in longitude; a polished surface; either side of a medal or coin; the outer or upper side of a two-sided object; the front; the inscribed side of a document; the picture side of a playing card; in Architecture - the facade of a building; the exposed surface of a wall; the front of an arch; the main side, frequently vertical or steeply sloped, presented by the front of a cliff, a geological fault; an open slope or hillside; each surface of a solid; the dial of a clock or watch; the working surface of an implement or tool; the striking surface of a cricket bat, golf club, hockey stick, etc.; external look; semblance of; outward show; disguise, pretence; a pretext; visible state or condition; aspect; in Typography - the printing surface of type; a style of type; boldface, fat-face, old-face, etc.; in Mining - the end of a tunnel where work is going on; the principal surface from which coal is being removed.

'Karmen Kass is the face of Max Factor today.'

'George made a face when his mother tried to get him to eat sprouts.'

'Climbing the face of the cliff required more skill than Jennifer had developed at this stage and she fell off, plunging into the calm sea below.'

'The medallion awarded to the winning competitors had one face bearing the name and date of the contest but the main face carrying a depiction of a naked female athlete engaged in the sport.'

7^th December 1732 - The Royal Opera House opened in Covent Garden, London.

7^th December 1783 - Theatre Royal opened in Covent Garden, London
7^th December 1783 - William Pitt Jr (24) became Britain's youngest Prime Minister

7th December 2011- It's 70 years since Pearl harbour was attacked by the Japanese

Stuart's Daily Word Spot: Pathos

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Pathos: noun - an attribute in speech, writing, events, persons, which can excite pity or sadness; the power to stir tender or melancholy emotion.

'You write with all the pathos of a sufferer; it's as though you've experienced all the many tragedies you describe in your work. I find myself moved to tears so often by the power of the pathos in your words.'

16 Nov 1961 – Great Britain began limiting immigration from the Commonwealth. Until this point, almost any citizen of the Commonwealth could legitimately come to live in these small islands. It was more or less inevitable, given the relative sizes of the country and the Commonwealth, that such restrictions would eventually be imposed. Overcrowding is a major cause of civil unrest and the increasing influx of non-native settlers was bound to become a major issue once full employment was no longer assured.