Available for pre-order: ‘Cycles of Udaipur’ by David Brookes

I’m thrilled to announce that my new novel, ‘Cycles of Udaipur’, is currently available for pre-order! It will be published in ebook format to coincide with Maha Shivaratri, the Hindu festival in honour of the deity Shiva, occurring on Monday 7th March 2016.

You can read more about the book and pre-order your copy here on Amazon (for Kindle) or here on Smashwords (for non-Kindle e-readers).


 

Final Cover 01


 

CYCLES OF UDAIPUR
David Brookes

Rajasthan is a vivid land of colour and spice, Maharajahs
and gods. But the vibrant city of Udaipur is not the peaceful
Hindu refuge it once was, and as India races towards
modernity its youth faces a cultural identity crisis.

When young Raj hits a cow with his motorcycle, little does
he know that he has started a chain reaction that will
obliterate his close-knit group of friends. Mariam is a Muslim
artist forbidden to paint Hindu deities. Her paramour Shiv
aches to be a politician in a city ruled by gangland overlords.
And lovelorn Vansh finds himself sucked into a mystical
vortex from which his mind may not recover.

Set against the sweeping grandeur of Rajasthani history,
Cycles of Udaipur spins on the axle of tradition and
progress: a tangled web of hope, faith and enduring passion
that epitomises a new India heretofore unknown to the West.


 

Thanks again to everyone for their encouragement and support. Happy reading!

—db


 

Welcome

Featured

Welcome to The STP Literary Service website,
the official site of freelance writer and editor David Brookes.

On this site you can check out his ghostwriting and editorial services, view his portfolio and feedback, and follow his regular blog (below) for news about his latest literary publications and new services for writers of all kinds.

David Brookes
The STP Literary Service

Departure

It wasn’t an easy decision to abandon the job in Xi’an and return to the UK.  I had already invested a lot in the venture and knew that I wouldn’t likely return any time soon.  It seemed that a mixture of issues left me little choice, but in the end I was not disappointed to leave, but drawn home and grateful for the excuse.

There were significant issues with the job posting (see last post) as well as peripheral hardships that were expected, but difficult to deal with nonetheless.  I considered staying on in China to find another post, though it had taken me months of hard work to sift through the obviously bad options to find this one, apparently-promising, opportunity.  I didn’t have the patients, money or will to hang around in Xi’an for another shot.  In truth, I just wanted to go home.  A year ago this seemed like one of my last few options, but certain changes in my personal life had happened and my ambitions hadn’t caught up.

Eager to get going, I moved out of my crummy apartment in the Yangjiacun district and into the old city, which is surrounded by four ancient walls.  I took up for two nights in the Han Tang Inn hostel.  I realised upon arriving that I had stayed there before, a few years ago when I last visited China.  It was a perfect haven after the difficult and emotional week I’d had.  I checked into my six bed dorm and marveled at the relative luxury compared to what would have been my home in Yangjiacun.  It felt clean, safe and comfortable.


Han Tang Inn Hostel

Han Tang Inn Hostel


 

I ordered some comforting grub and a cup of tea and mapped out my next day and a half.  It says something about my experience that I’d felt extremely nervous about lugging my baggage out into the street to hail the taxi that would bring me here, and that I was reluctant to go outside.  I wanted to stay where I was protected.  This was a far cry from my attitude in 2012, when I flew out with my then-girlfriend to explore India and Southeast Asia and bounced from plane to taxi to train without batting an eyelid.  That trip was a breeze with barely a worry in the world, and no compunction about hailing a taxi, or trying to buy fruit from people who we couldn’t communicate with except for the odd word and lots of gesticulating.

So that these new anxieties didn’t get the better of me, I forced myself out into the daylight.  The hostel is centrally located so I was right in the middle of the old city.  The area inside of the city walls is barely touched by the area’s notorious smog – most of the traffic and ever-present dusty construction is without – and sunlight shone down as I reacquainted myself with the ancient capital.

It took no time at all for me to remember why I’d chosen Xi’an to be my new home.  The city, like any in China, is horrendously crowded, but provided one isn’t in a hurry there is little to get wound up about.  The crowds stroll along and the traveler strolls with it, up to the lynchpin of the city, the old Bell Tower, and beyond to its partner the Drum Tower, on through the Muslim Quarter to barter for trinkets, out towards the Temple of the City Gods.  I was out until dark and then headed back.  But even the trip out into the clean, well-maintained centre of Shaanxi culture didn’t make me regret my decision to buy that flight home, though it served to balance some of the disappointment of my experiences.


 

The Bell Tower

The Bell Tower


Temple of the City Gods

Temple of the City Gods


 

That night I suffered the bane of the backpacker: sharing a dorm room with a snorer.  And snore he did, that friendly bearded Swede, from 05:00 for over an hour.  I hadn’t been able to get to sleep, but just as I was drifting off I was treated to that pre-dawn sonorous honk.  After a failed attempt to sleep in the common room, I dug deeper into my overdraft for a private room.

Blessed peace!

I took a similar wander the next day (the inner temple was closed the day before).  I met a few interesting locals, watched arguments over a game of Chinese chess, and was asked to have a photo taken with a group of local students.

Soon it was time to head to the airport.  This time the route was via Hong Kong, and I would get a train from London via the Tube rather than fly to Manchester.  It was 30+ hours of sleepless travel, but I was immensely grateful to be back home amongst the loved ones I’d missed so dearly, even after only a week.

Returning so soon is disappointing and embarrassing, but these are short-lived emotions.  The sensation of peace upon finally climbing into bed in the house I grew up in clarified a lot of thoughts and feelings for me.  For now I’m very happy to be home!

— db

 

Journey

It took me a few days to get a stable internet connection and access my illegal blog site, now that I’m here in China.  Behind the Great Firewall is a different world.  I’ve spoken to a few locals about what they think of the censorship, and answers are evasive.  People here don’t seem to mind it much, apparently under the impression that things are being kept from them for a good reason.

Well, they couldn’t keep me out!  Take that, Asia.  After waiting so long for my contract and visa to come through, I could finally set off for my new life in China.

It would be a long journey – over 24 hours – and was beset by problems from the beginning.  The train ride to Manchester Airport was cut short due to some problem down the line, so I was forced to disembark at Piccadilly.  An uninformative and unhelpful person at the Information Helpdesk couldn’t be sure another train would accept my ticket.  I decided to risk it anyway and made it to the Airport, delayed.  There were the usual long queues at Manchester, and off I flew to Heathrow, where – unbeknownst to me at that time – my check-in baggage was quietly and mischievously slipping into a black hole.

I don’t know what cosmic, transformative adventures were had by that slightly overweight maroon suitcase.  All I know is that it tumbled through dark dimensions untold, and was clawed at by space-goblins before re-emerging into our plane of existence somewhere in the vicinity of Beijing three days later.

The suitcase doesn’t talk about the experience, and I don’t ask.

I met a peculiar man dressed a little like a classic Dr Who who was off to Shanghai to judge a bonsai tree contest.  He was apparently well regarded for his knowledge of stunted trees.  Despite this he proved a little too clingy and wanted the ticket lady to seat us together, so I ditched him on the pretense of taking a pee-pee.  He might have pruned me in my sleep.

As it happened, the 10 hour flight from Heathrow to Beijing was probably the best time I’ve had this last week.  I was placed next to a thoroughly pleasant gentleman from Japan named Ishiro, who was a stage actor and director donchuknow, and we chatted about our home countries and theatre and anime for a while until he got to sleep and I didn’t.  It wasn’t even spoiled by the in-flight film, which was Johnny Depp’s “Transcendence” and should be avoided if at all possible.  Just … awful.  I can’t even.  Don’t watch it.  I watched it twice and it actually got worse.

Then the adventure really started.  I landed in Beijing and wandered about for a bit, wired from total lack of sleep.  A lady insisted that I didn’t need to collect my baggage and that it would be transferred to the domestic connection to Xi’an, even though another person at Heathrow told me that I would have to.

When I discovered three hours later that my luggage had been lost, I blamed that young lady for its disappearance.  This was wrong of me.  The black hole had opened up in London, not Beijing, and although neither Young Lady or I knew it at that point, the fate of the suitcase had already been decided by the fickle gods of international travel. If I ever see Saint Christopher here in China I will sock him in the jaw.

[To be continued…]

—db

Re-begin

9th July 2014

This is the day that I decided to give up on making a living in the UK.

For years I’ve been a struggling writer wading through corporate jobs and lack of literary success.   If you want you can read about that in my old blog (no longer updated):

davidbrookes.wordpress.com

In October 2012 I took off on a 5 month tour of India and Asia, including China.  If you want you can read about that too, in the travel blog I shared with Lisa Cooper (no longer updated):

overunderpants.wordpress.com

It was these travels that gave me something more to love about the world.  I owe credit for this endeavor in no small part to the ex-pats I met out there, especially in China, who showed me what was possible if I had an interest in it.

Since I returned to the UK last year  I’ve taken a sequence of crappy office jobs.  Agencies and employers are surprised to find that I have two degrees.  They wonder why I’m settling for twelve grand as a typist or temporary receptionist.  They wonder why, if I have qualifications in writing and a published novel, I’m taking two week assignments with a temping agency instead of “being the next J K Rowling”.  It’s difficult for people to understand just how screwed up the job market is at the moment (let alone the publishing industry).  To these people, I smile patiently but have no answer for them.

I’ve long considered teaching English, ever since I undertook my BA at Bretton Hall University in Yorkshire.  Unfortunately attempts to pursue this recently were less than successful, in part thanks to Education Secretary Michael Gove’s grand efforts to screw the curriculum and throttle the training of new teachers, especially in English.  I was told a few months ago that last year there were over 50 funded training slots for new teachers in the current scheme.  This year there was about 15.

The idea of teaching English as a second language abroad is one I’ve been playing with for 18 months now.

Today I applied for a place on an intensive 4-week CELTA (Certificate in English Language Teaching to Adults) course at the University of Sheffield.

After that: the world!

—db