Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling, voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It’s Alpha and Omega’s kingdom come-

When The Man Comes Around, Johnny Cash

Chapter One- Genesis

Residents were first aware that something was wrong when they awoke one morning to find black ribbons tied to each lamp post and door knob. That morning every resident, even the youngest, instinctively glanced briefly at the Tall Tower at the center of the city where black banners fluttered in the breeze from every window. The flag bearing the Royal Crest was flying at half mast. The King, it would appear, was dead. Residents thought to themselves that few had seen the King in the streets of the city in recent years and counted themselves lucky that they were among the number who had never seen the inside of the Tall Tower. Those who had returned from a visit within its walls were rarely able to explain what they had seen and experienced. Some residents were relieved the King was dead, braver residents called him the Fat King or worse out loud in conversation.

An uneasy quiet hung over the city as this unusual day began. Mothers hugged their children a little too tightly. Men laughed a little too loudly as they passed gentle jokes at the expense of the King between them on the street. Residents greeted one another a little too brightly as they went on with the morning routines. They all knew what was coming next and each wished they were completely ignorant of The Process. All secretly hoped The Process would ignore them.

Inside the walls of the Tall Tower in one of the rooms on a higher floor the Recording Angel adjusted his wings and glasses as he sat down to write. He glanced across the room at where the body of the Fat King lay in state, took a piece of parchment and began cutting himself a new quill. The King had a small staff whose duties were purely domestic, they would ensure that the Tower was ready for when The Process was complete. There was never any question of the Recording Angel living in any other location in the city, the Tall Tower and the Recording Angel had always been there and they belonged to one another.

The Process scared the residents of the city. Some of the elders of the city had seen The Process happen a number of times in their lifetime, others noted that the frequency of needing new Kings and Queens was increasing.

The first step of The Process was clear. The body of the dead monarch was to be wheeled through the winding streets of the city, partly to prevent overcrowding at the cathedral but also to prove to the few doubting residents that the King was dead. The following steps of The Process remain something of a mystery and are the subject of many rumours and superstitions. Every resident knew that The Process could only truly start once the macabre parade had traveled through every street in the city, the funeral march played in the cathedral and the body of the monarch interred.

Every city has its own Recording Angel that writes an impartial history of the city in a book of remembrance. The book of remembrance actually takes the form of a series of volumes, tradition dictates that a new volume is started with each new monarch. The lower floors of the Tall Tower are taken up with room after room of bound volumes of handwritten history. When residents see the Recording Angel, Eremiel, taking a rare walk in the streets of the city they are unafraid because they know he does not judge, intervene or influence events. The Recording Angel only observes and documents.

Eremiel prepares a bottle of ink and a set of quills for he too knows The Process is about to start within the walls of the city. He pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, glances out the window and sighs. Eremiel hates The Process and the effect it has on the city but he knows someone needs to wear the royal crown and sit on the throne in the tall tower. He remembers what happened last time the throne in the tower sat empty and vows that cannot be allowed to happen again.

On Christmas Day evening I noticed that one of the people I follow on twitter was scouting about for a challenge for 2012. I also noticed that @nicktheowl was giving some good suggestions. I wanted a challenge for 2012 and so asked him for something.

He suggested my challenge be to write one chapter of a novel for children each month in 2012. There were some rules: I couldn’t cheat by writing the whole thing in one go and then posting little chunks each, it had to be a truly organic process. I had to post the chapter on the 25^th of each month. It had to be 100 words. (I’ve already broken the 100 words rule because Chapter One runs to 600-ish words)

I’ve attempted NaNoWriMo (the write a first draft of a novel in a month) before and dumped it when I realised that I’d just written an extended episode of House with a thinly veiled version of me as the lead character. It was me but I could do Science! I’ve written microfictions on the blog before which I’m really proud of and a couple of them are some of the most popular posts. I’m very excited about where the story has started and where it appears to be heading. You’re more than welcome to join the journey, it’ll be nice to have some company.

I’ve created a twitter account for the whole project: @benjitales

It’s not a burden to follow as it’s not as content heavy as my “normal” twitter account.

It’s been a rich process to engage in. I’ve never written “for children” before and judging by Chapter One of the story I think what I’m writing will be for “Young Adults” (we’ll see, it’s organic and it’s a process). Feel free to follow the Benjitales account and offer support, inspiration and ideas.

I imagine there’ll be lots of questions about process after Chapter One goes live on Thursday.

Vivian White investigates the rising cost of travelling by train, and the reasons behind the ever-increasing prices. Ticket fares have recently hit record levels, adding to the frustrations of passengers who are already angry at delays and overcrowding.

It should be an interesting programme even if you only have a passing interest in rail commuting. If, like me, you have a morbid fascination with how the rail system in the country is slowly falling apart, it’ll be catnip.

Plus you’ll get to see me bowling alone. Yup, you read that correctly, I bowl alone. Just like Richard Nixon.

Image via Wikipedia

Happy Christmas.

Thanks for reading my blog posts through 2011.

Here’s how to let the programme know just how much you hate commuting and the conditions commuters endure every day. Send an email to talktothewall@bbc.co.uk

In the subject line put “commuting” or something in two or three words that summarises your feelings towards commuting on the trains.

In the main body of the email say what impact commuting has on your life.

Also if you have a twitter account you can “tweet” the programme with your annoyances about commuting to @BBCThatsBritain

Friday December 16
Doors at 19.00

St. Martin in the Bull Ring Church, Birmingham, B5 5BB

Tickets available online at www.greenbelt.org.uk/comedygig or phone 020 7374 2760

£10 in advance
£12 on the door

Denis Allen has started a petition to cut the top pay at Telford Council.

Read more: http://www.shropshirestar.com/news/2011/10/17/petition-seeks-to-cut-top-pay-at-telford-council/#ixzz1b7Y0yzog

Denis Allen?

He changes his political spots more than I change my underwear. UKIP. TAWPA. Tory. And now the Tax Payers Alliance.

The TPA is an arms-length Tory front operation run by big powerful business interests who want to remove themselves from paying tax. The TPA are exploiting the taxpayer rather than protecting their interests as they claim to do.

Mr Allen should work out who he really represents, he doesn’t speak for this tax payer.

I’d just started at university on top of the hill at the University of Kent at Canterbury. During freshers week I’d joined the Christian Union and made my second, third, fourth and fifth proper actual real life gay friends. I’d also made a couple of enemies. I’d done a lot of soul searching and thinking about actually acting on the feelings I’d always felt that I’d had. I’d plucked up courage to attend the Lesbian and Gay Society and met more gay people from across the campus, both out and proud and those living quietly in the closet.

We met outside my hall of residence, Rutherford College, and made the walk into town. Down the Whistable Road, through the Westgate and down a street off the main high street onto Black Griffin Lane. I remember that just before the Westgate there was a kebab shop called the Ockabasi and someone cracked a joke about being able to buy absolutely anything cooked in the shop. I didn’t laugh, I was nervous but thrilled. I’d crossed many boundaries during my first few weeks. Here was a new one that was symbolised by these imposing Gothic looking gates.

The Carpenters Arms was a mixed pub. Gay men at the tables and Lesbians at the pool table. Men with bottles, girls with pints. It wasn’t a particularly beautiful place or brilliant music but this was a space that was ours, it was identifiably gay. It was murky and had sticky carpet in places and some evenings there was a palpable tension in the air, the threat of violence due to some recent break up or ruck about to happen.

This was the place where a Literature Queen pulled a sour face at me for mispronouncing Colm Tóibín’s name, the place where we’d freeze walking back in the depths of winter from, the place where we’d have long meaningful conversations and gossip the night away.

Yes, it wasn’t the best gay bar in the world or the nicest or the hippest but it was the first and it’s no longer there. After my first year the lease was sold and it became The Acorn Inn. Rumours went round that it wouldn’t be gay, some friends went to try it out and, sadly, it had “changed it’s style” and was very definitely “under new management”. After the Carpenters Arms the place to be seen was Oranges bar cafe but by that point I wasn’t in Canterbury any more. But that, dear reader, is another story.

Your Case Reference: ATW-110915-BCC

Dear Mr Whitehouse

Thank you for your e-mail with regards to Arriva Trains Wales not responding to customer comments and enquiries initiated via Twitter.

At present we use Twitter and other social media as a communication channel for providing our customers with real-time information relating to our services, products and promotions. Initially it was not intended that social media would be used as a tool for two-way communication with our customers relating to comments or complaints and currently we do not have a team of staff dedicated to communicating with our customers via Twitter.

Currently, we encourage customers to contact our Customer Relations team directly via e-mail or post if they have a comment or complaint about any aspect of our service as this enables us to investigate and respond to the points raised, where necessary referring matters on to other colleagues within the business for appropriate action. For issues that require immediate response relating to service disruption our Customer Relations team can also be contacted by telephone on 08456 061 660 between 0800 and 2000 hrs Monday to Saturday and 1100 and 2000 hrs Sundays. Information relating to train services and fares is also available 24 hrs a day via National Rail Enquiries by contact 08457 48 49 50.

However it is very important to us that our customers find it easy to communicate with us and I assure you that Arriva Trains Wales is committed and open to embracing new forms of technology. We are therefore currently reviewing our Social Marketing Strategy and looking at opportunities to integrate our Customer Services with Twitter and Facebook.

I therefore thank you for raising this issue with us and assure you that your comments have been taken on board.

Yours sincerely

Amber Sutton

Assistant Customer Relations Manager

Arriva Trains Wales

Stella Duffy

Adrian Plass

Amy Sackville

Andrew Phillip

Andrew Tate

Deborah Fielding

El Gruer

Jari Moate

Katherine Venn

Mia Gallagher

Nancy Mattson

Nicky Getgood

Padraig O Tuama

Richard Beard

And if you feel so inclined, I took part in a panel discussion, Taking it to the streets. (I think you can hear that I’m quite nervous to start with & then warm up as I realise I’m not going to be stoned to death by the audience)

This is me, mid-festival managing to look fairly relaxed.

Thanks to Drew McLellan who took the picture.