Water Runs Slow Through Flat Land
by Cliff Jones

Synopsis

Water Runs Slow Through Flat Land is a romantic comedy drama by Cliff Jones set in the online news industry during the war on terror. The story spans three months in the life of Peter Beckenham, Editor of NPL, the UK’s largest online news service. He has a sharp wit and speaks before thinking, combined with a conscience which is often a minute or two late, with remorse lagging just behind. He fears the mundane, is averse to commitment and worries about being insignificant.

After an accidental Twitter update leads him to losing his job in a round of the company’s frequent reorganisations, and bored by fourteen years of deskbound newswire publishing, Peter resolves to use his redundancy payment to become a freelance journalist in Afghanistan. He shares his plans with his friend and colleague Sarah Copland. Her reaction reveals her feeling for him, and their relationship grows more intimate.

Peter pursues the life of a freelance foreign correspondent in a war zone and he leaves for Kabul despite his feelings for Sarah, and he initially confines himself to dull but worthy stories to become culturally acclimatised to his strange new environment. His emails to Sarah take on a courageous intimacy amplified over their distance and the lack of office restraints, and their relationship develops as they fall deeper in love.

Discouraged by the lack of interesting stories in the capital, Peter decides to venture further into the country. He rents a car and a translator and sets off for Kandahar in the south of the country and is kidnapped en route.

His former employer is asked for money and the world’s media adopts a strategy which will only work if everyone sticks to it.

With the situation on a knife edge, Peter is left to survive on his wits and try to reach an understanding with his captors while Sarah and his former colleagues work to secure his release without drawing it to the attention of the wider, more sinister reaches of the global terrorist network. A comedy.

About the novel

Water Runs Slow Through Flat land is a 60,000 word novel which will appeal to adult readers interested in current affairs, the internet and romantic comedy with a dramatic edge. The story combines the comedy and close-knit workplace characterisation of M*A*S*H and Scrubs with the drama, intrigue and fast paced conversation of The West Wing.

The scenes in the novel divide themselves largely between Afghanistan and the UK as the action unfolds, often staying one pace ahead of the characters in both locations, but giving the reader an insight into the characters’ motivation, the personality of the protagonist Peter Beckenham and the woman he falls in love with, former colleague Sarah Copeland.

About the author

Cliff Jones was Editor AOL News, once the UK’s largest online news service, from 1996 to 2008, and the novel provides insight into the early days of internet news coverage, social networking and the war on terror. He is a blogger and online editor with experience in social media, technology, broadcasting and international journalism.

Water Runs Slow Through Flat Land will be published in Summer 2012

I took the blog offline a couple of weeks ago and it seems like my reasoning didn’t go out on the feed as planned, so if anyone is reading this I’d like to explain why I’m no longer updating This Is This.

Having a blog is a great creative outlet and that’s what the internet is all about. The downside is that after nearly seven years, I grew increasingly uncomfortable with it looking like I thought my opinions mattered so much that I had to share them. And you know me and downsides; sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by them. Geology says that should mean I’m sitting on top of a hill, but that’s not how it felt.

I’m keeping this blog online because there are sponsors who have paid to have placements on here, and you might want to read the archives. I may return to it one day. I liked being read and I enjoyed the thought of people waiting for an update here the way I do with many excellent blogs. What I didn’t like is being more self-absorbed than I wanted to be and the thought that there are people out there who would say this an extension of my whole personality rather than one facet of it to which I held up a magnifying glass every once in a while.

Most of all, though, I just grew bored of my own opinions and if blogging has taught me anything, it’s that I’m never alone in what I’m feeling.

Apologies to the genuinely lovely people out there with whom I shared a lot and felt a genuine and warm connection, but my blogging days are over for the forseeable future.

Love,

Cliff

I got a mail this afternoon from Medecins Sans Frontiers which I wanted to pass on to everyone who helped support them by sponsoring my marathon run.

Dear Cliff,

My name is Anna; I am a paediatric registrar from Bath, Somerset. I chose to work for MSF after watching those all too familiar and yet horrific scenes of famine, floods, war and disease broadcast so regularly on television. Seeing people in desperate need of help is heartbreaking, but MSF strives to provide quality healthcare, free of charge, to people in need, whatever the setting. I have recently returned from working with MSF in Liberia, West Africa.

I wanted to pass on the thanks of the children and families I worked with. Your donation of £1120.37 which you raised by taking part in the Paris marathon enables so many stories to have a happy ending. I would like to share one of these stories with you.

Gbeli was born in rural Liberia during the civil war. During times of conflict, each day passes to the next with only survival in mind. Gbeli was probably seven years old but he had never celebrated a birthday, he had barely enough to eat and had never been to school.

When I first met Gbeli he had lockjaw, a stiff neck and was suffering from episodes of painful muscle spasms lasting several minutes, causing his body to contort while he remained entirely conscious. I saw terrible fear in his eyes as he was becoming weaker and weaker.

His grandmother had walked for two days, carrying Gbeli on her back, to get to our hospital in the hope we might be able to help. Two weeks earlier he had stood on a rusty nail. Gbeli had never had any immunisations or primary healthcare which meant the tetanus toxin was free to rampage through his body. Without specific and intensive treatment, Gbeli would undoubtedly die.

Treating tetanus infection requires a long period of intensive care followed by rehabilitation; the muscle spasms can continue for many days and can leave permanent disability. Gbeli was transferred to our paediatric intensive care unit where he could be sedated, receive treatment – including the antidote and muscle relaxants – and be carefully nursed. I would visit him twice a day, his grandmother always at his bedside.

It took time, but gradually he became stronger. Before long he could even manage a smile. Five weeks later Gbeli could be seen trying to walk and exercise all around the hospital, giving all the staff the thumbs up and a cheeky grin as he passed by. The fear I had seen in his eyes on that first day had gone and been replaced by laughter. He was a happy boy whose smile matched that of his grandmother – the same grandmother who was overwhelmed that his life-saving treatment was available to them for free, thanks to people like you who support MSF.

After six weeks Gbeli was strong enough to return home. His grandmother cried with relief, hugged us all, held my hand and asked me to thank all the people who had saved her grandson’s life.

Thank you for your life-saving support.

Dr Anna Kilonback

Sumiko
MSF UK, Fundraising Volunteer
(Tuesdays)

I know how boring it is when bloggers say: “Hello! I’m still here. I haven’t forgotten about you, I’m still updating this blog!” But I’m not.

If anyone is reading this on the feeds it means you are ultra-keen followers and I’d like to explain to you specifically why I’m no longer updating this blog.

Blogging makes me more self-absorbed than I’d like to be. I love having readers out there and enjoyed the thought of people waiting for an update on this blog the way I do with many excellent blogs.

What doesn’t sit right is when there are people I know in real life who are close to me and who read the blog and see it as an extension of my personality rather than a facet of it. It’s a level of scrutiny I’m increasingly incomfortable with and one that’s harder to justify.

Apologies to the genuinely lovely people out there I shared a lot with and felt a genuine and warm connection but my blogging days are stopping for the forseeable future. I want to keep sharing things and you can find those items here http://www.google.com/reader/shared/01352449298264101987

I love this. I love the internet and I’d like to share what I love.

Until this morning I had no idea that the London Symphony Orchestra has educational and beautiful videos from their accomplished musicians for you to enjoy. If you haven’t yet them I’m partly responsible and I’m going to rectify that straight away.

Actually, did you know that contrabassoons are not officially recognised by the International Committee of Bassoons? This is due to their sustained campaign of guerrilla jungle fighting against the Bassoons, which InCoBass claimed stole the role of the Grandfather in Prokofiev’s Peter And The Wolf.

“That shit was nailed on. We were born to play it,” said a contrabassoon spokesperson, adding: “Sergei promised.”

[Read more →]

I found this mug at my office.

Update: Not IN my office, just within the building where I work. It was unclaimed.

I was walking the dog last night at midnight, playing scrabble on my phone with someone in LA. She asked how I was doing and I said I had just come in from a five mile run a couple of hours before, put the kids to bed, worked on the novel I’m working on and had been on Sky News that week.

That’s what has been going on lately. You can take even half of one of those sentences and it would tire out a lot of people just reading them.

More about the book later. Probably more about me running later, too.

Me on Sky News.

And of course Birds With Arms (thanks James)

In a meeting, today.

Colleague 1: How was your weekend?

Colleague 2: Good. My little boy did a cross country race for his school. It was really sweet. I’m so proud. He’s only 11.

Colleague 1: That’s brilliant!

Colleague 2: It really was. Two kilometres, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t run two kilometres. He did really well.

Me: What was his time?

Got a laugh, though.

Living with two cats and a pug, you notice a lot of differences between the two species. This video sums it up in under a minute.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLXH86bEzOQ

This was on the radio on the way in, and I can’t make my mind up.

It’s either guilty and dismissive, or endearing and remorseful. I can’t decide. I’ve love to hear your thoughts.

ALWAYS ON MY MIND

Maybe I didn’t love you quite as good as I should have,
Maybe I didn’t hold you quite as often as I could have,
Little things I should have said and done,
I just never took the time.

You were always on my mind,
You were always on my mind.

Maybe I didn’t hold you all those lonely, lonely times,
And I guess I never told you, I’m so happy that you’re mine,
If I made you feel second best,
I’m sorry, I was blind.

You were always on my mind,
You were always on my mind,

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died,
Give me, give me one more chance to keep you satisfied,
If I made you feel second best,
I’m sorry, I was blind.

You were always on my mind,
You were always on my mind.

Also, check it out:

Devotion: You Were Always On My Mind

Revelation: You Were Always On My Mind

Argumentative: You Were Always On My Mind

Physical: You Were Always On My Mind