D Reeder – författare

The plight of the Palestinians is well known. Most are confined to enclaves within Israel which are deprived of freedoms and rights that many of us take for granted. Ad Deirat is a real village suffering many real difficulties in order to survive.There really is a place above the village visited by lorries into which the rubbish from thriving Israeli towns and villages is dumped. There really is a check point guarded by Israeli soldiers who prevent people leaving the area without good cause.However, in Ad Deirat weddings still take place. People still work the land; and the people maintain their traditions and beliefs as far as they are able. Some more than others.But for women in such a confined restricted space there can be other difficulties. It is not just the poverty that they have to contend with, but also the dictates of men in the village council, and also the strictures born from both faith and superstition.Marfud, a young Palestinian girl hopes to find a most unusual route out of Ad Deirat, one that I doubt you or I would ever lightly undertake. Will she succeed? Or are the odds stacked against her? Will she be the one to make things better for her people. Will she be the dawn of hope?

There is a tradition in England during the month of December of people gathering by a fire late at night, long after all the children are safely tucked up in bed and then telling a ghost story.Usually Christmas Eve is the chosen time for such tales of the supernatural.This is such a tale to be read to a gathered crowd though perhaps on this occasion this story should not be read on Christmas Eve, but rather on the eve of the more ancient date for Christmas which is the date when this particular story was set.This story came to me during a dream on the night of the 8th or 9th of January. I had not read of Bede's description of this particular night of the full moon until I dreamt of walking up a hill holding a child's hand, and the rest of whatthen happened is of course chronicled in the story.Burrough on the Hill (which is featured on the front cover of the story) is a real place just below Melton Mowbury. After reading this story to my friends one of their first reactions was, 'Where exactly is this place?' and 'I want to go there?'A more thoughtful elderly lady who'd been sat in the corner and who had seemed to grasp the import of this story much quicker than many of the others then asked me quietly much later, 'Would you ever go there on that particular night?'And I must admit that I answered. 'No, I'd be absolutely terrified!'But from her enigmatic expression I wondered if once she too had been a 'Great Mother'!

"e;It's not finished!"e; the judge at the Oundle Literary Festival told me.I had just been awarded first prize for 'The Gift' so I was astonished to hear these words."e;It needs more,"e; she continued. She looked at me with sharp eyes through her spectacles just as an eagle eyes a skinny worm.A year later, free from the restrictions of word counts, this version is now twice as long; and hopefully much the better and fatter for it.With grateful thanks to all involved in the Oundle Festival of 2011.D Reeder

There is a tradition in England at Christmastime of people gathering by a fire late at night, long after all the children are safely tucked up in bed and then telling a ghost story.This is such a story to be read aloud to such a gathering and savoured by such a gathering especially if it is cold outside and there is snow in the air...

This short story is a departure from the other 'Tales of the Supernatural'. The others are intended for reading out aloud to a group by a cosy fire in an old house at Christmastime before you climb the creaking stairs to the cold guest room at the end of a long corridor where the nanny died and whose frantic scratch marks are still on the door.This story is different. It is longer for a start, and by its nature would probably suit you best, just one person reading it alone, for there is much to meditate and contemplate on afterwards.'The Leper's Bible' is based on an actual place, and refers to actual historical characters, with the exception of Brother Stephen and Brother Gregory. The references to historical events and deaths are as accurate as I could make them until imagination intervened.Fountains Abbey the setting for the story is an astonishingly beautiful place despite being in ruins. I always feel a great sadness though whenever I visit it. Perhaps what happened in 'The Leper's Bible' is the reason.Given the chance, I could happily throttle King Henry VIII!

The paths carved out by nomadic traders throughout the land of Somalia are ancient. Camel trains have long carried goods from market to market, nowadays, of course, new roads follow some of these ancient trade routes.Sadly, the wisdom which so easily found such easy pathways throughout the land has faltered (as in so many other countries)in terms of the way women are treated.In this short story a carpet seller observes the oppression and abuse many women in Somalia still to this day endure. His particular attention in the village of Wajid is fixated upon Salima; whom he watches as she grows from a small child into a beautiful young woman.Throughout these long years the carpet seller observes her colour as he does battle with his own. Is Salima's colour the same as yours?This short story id dedicated to the memory of Halima Ibrahim Abdurrahman, 20, who was killed in front of hundreds of people, mostly women and children, in the town of Wajid, 250 miles north-west of the capital, Mogadishu on the 17th November, 2009.

There is a tradition in England during the month of December of people gathering by a fire late at night, long after all the children are safely tucked up in bed, and then telling a ghost story. Usually Christmas Eve is the chosen time for such tales of the supernatural.this is such a tale to be read aloud.However, with the rapid approach of 21st December, 2012, perhaps this year there should be a slight change of plan. And so I recommend that you should gather around your fires a little earlier this December to enjoy this particular tale. It might well be your only chance to do so if the Mayan glyphs prove to be correct; and especially so if any within your gathering has suddenly become fixated upon cleaning...

Clarrie England is not your typical heroine. She is not young, beautiful or successful. However, she possesses a rare form of empathy that draws people to her; and thus she becomes a heroine of a different kind: a fifty-one year old woman, more mouse than lion, who finds herself on the very edge of things, and yet still does her best, and what she thinks is right; but best of all she is someone who in this busy world of ours is prepared to listen to others. She has not been blessed with courage, nor can she talk her way out of a tricky situation, but people in her company reveal their hidden secrets. Secrets they have never dared to share with anyone else.Why are they drawn to her as she begins to make friends and hopes to find love? Will she regain her self-esteem and belief in herself or will she be crushed by the supernatural elements which also seem attracted to her? What has previously happened in that place, in that hospital to cause such ripples in Clarrie's world? And does she by accident change her own life forever?Clarrie dared to step into this world, dare you step into it too?

Just how many chasms how many divides can there be?There are so many things we do without realising the consequences and impact they may have on others.We all want to belong, but sometimes fear of failure can push us over the edge.And thus a revengeful spirit is born that wants to pull the rest of us down with it.I urge you to avoid this particular Chinese takeaway shop.

All the detail in this short story are based on what happened just a few weeks ago. We are still mystified by what we saw and what is still happening to the frogs on the patio.As I type this Tama, my neighbour's cat from three doors away, has just dashed in again and seems expecially jumpy!Scary!