Anton's Ideas

Anton Wills-Eve on world news & random ideas

Category: autobiography

My garden’s inspiration


My garden’s inspiration

It is always a joy to write in surroundings which inspire me to think of everything that I love in life and make me want to share my happiness with others. Well, being fortunate enough to have a corner of my garden as secluded and inspiring as this,(see below) you can see why my mind is so often moved to write about the pleasant things and events that I hear about or meditate upon, rather than just criticising the worst in the world when so much of it is worth praising. The trees and lawn always make me feel really glad that I have had so much good fortune in my time. An education that enlightened me and filled me with pleasure and knowledge. A career that took me to all five continents and let me watch all the different ways in which humanity amuses itself, but therein lies the rub.I so often only saw places because I was sent there to write about the brutal side of mankind. I pray for people caught up in war because invariably it has been my lot to watch organised carnage taking place in stunningly beautiful sites. I got more joy out of hearing Mass sung in Vietnamese in the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Saigon than any of the English language horrors of pseudo sacred singing that Vatican two allowed the English speaking world to inflict on its worshippers. I still much prefer Latin to English in Church. But that is probably because it was the only language in the Church until I was nearly twenty five, and, more importantly, as long as Mass was said in Latin I could serve at the altar because I could say the acolyte’s responses. My greatest regret in the Far East was not being able to serve Mass because I did not speak the language. I am sure the assembled prelates at Vatican two never thought of that aspect of what they were changing. But sitting in a lounger in a garden such as this and letting the scenery tell me what to think, and consequently to write, I really do feel that the world is a very nice place. It is only those of us who think solely of their own needs who are blinded to the beauty of creation and have to spoil it. Wars are invariably started for some spurious, right sounding motives but executed in haste and with so little thought for the innocent victims of the hell they are orchestrating, that one can only feel sorry for the politicians who start them. After all, can any man honestly stand up and say “I know what is best for the world” when his own narrow vision of such a small part of it is all that he has to go on when making such a pronouncement? Sadly, too often the decorated hero is the man who had little option but to obey an order, although many soldiers do give their lives trying to save their friends and these I salute from the bottom of my heart. But I started this short reflection on the happiness my garden brings me. Maybe it has told me something more than I expected. Maybe it has told me that I must not forget that everything I have enjoyed in life has been a wonderful gift. It is certainly impossible to say that I have earned the pleasure I have had in my time, because I am only human and not by the longest stretch of the imagination in any way a holy or saintly person. So Why have I been so lucky? I have no idea, but I do know one thing. I have met an awful lot of people who have devoted their lives to helping others and they come to mind so often that I know how little I have contributed compared to the world’s genuine saints. I knew a thirty year old woman who had spent seven years on her own running an orphanage for blind and abandoned children in French West Africa. I had one colleague who gave all his salary, for the three years he was posted to Vietnam, to a nursing home there that had no income but whatever people donated. He could not square his wealth with his conscience, as he put it, and to this day I know how much good he did. I cannot name him, he will not allow me to.

But this is just a photograph that is bringing back memories, pleasant ones as I hoped. Soon it will be cold winter and the grass may well be white, but then, in a few years I suppose I will too. But while my Autumn must inevitably pass through to Winter I know I will never see another Spring. But my garden will!!

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A wonderful surprise.


Living in the part of England that I do, what used to be northern Cheshire on the estuary of the river Dee by Hoylake golf links on the Wirral peninsula, I am only a twenty five minute drive from the old Roman fortress city of Chester, first settled by the Romans in 79AD. Now Chester is best known for its wonderful Roman walls which are largely complete and certainly the best Roman ‘ruin’ in England. It was manned to stop the Welsh invading England and even after the ancient world disappeared it remained one of the most strategically important towns in Britain. Not surprising then that following the Christian revival in the seventh century that the beautiful Benedictine monastery of St. Werburg’s was built there around the late 670s. Like so many very early Benedictine houses, the Abbey had naturally perfect acoustics, but for an instrument that was not to come into its own in Churches for more than 900 years. The organ. After the reformation and the dissolution of the monasteries in England St.Werburg’s became an Anglican cathedral and the Bishop of Chester was one of the most influential prelates in the north west of England.

But just as the Benedictine tradition had always insisted on producing the most beautiful church music in the western world for 700 years so the tradition continued at Chester. The acoustics were almost perfect for both choral and organ music so the city soon became renowned for its music. So much so that every Thursday of the year at lunchtime leading organists from all over Britain. and now many other parts of the world , give 45 minute recitals for the the city’s music lovers. In all the time I have lived near Chester my wife and I have made a point of getting to recitals as often as we can because they are genuinely of the highest international standard. 

But even though we have heard leading virtuosi from many places playing all the main works in the classical organ repertoire, yesterday we got a real shock. The recital was given by the extraordinary Italian organist, Marco Lo Muscio, who specialises in arranging and transcribing music of all genres, composed for a wide variety of instruments, and performing them on the organ. You can imagine our amazement yesterday when we heard  an instrument, on which we normally listened to Bach, Widor, Buxtehude ,Vierne and the like, being used to produce an incredible mixture of variations of music by Rick Wakeman, Erik Satie and Paganini, or variations on his most famous caprice, being literally hammered out with all the force and gusto of a jazz pianist or keyboard maestro of the progressive rock era. But the wonderful thing was that Marco made it sound as though that was where the music truly belonged. On an organ, in a Cathedral! The shock to ears not accustomed to this combination was both a revelation and a short period of exquisite enjoyment  the like of which I had never heard  before. But here is the irony. When the first Roman general subdued the locals and settled there one thousand nine hundred thirty four years ago the locals disliked both him and everything he stood for.  Yesterday The city of Chester could celebrate three things for which it will always be grateful to Rome. By settling where they did all that time ago the Romans left behind one of the best natural archaeological sites in England and Chester University, in consequence, can boast one of the world’s finest faculties of archaeology. Then, thanks to their love of equestrian sports, the Romans left Chester a centre of horse racing, a sport for which it is still famous in England and allows it to stage several of the leading flat season races. And yesterday a third Roman arrived to show, on the Cathedral’s magnificent organ, just how much enjoyment he and his countrymen can still bring to one of England’s oldest and most beautiful cities.              

It’s My Adorable Wife’s Birthday Tomorrow


Ode to my Wife

To thee, my wife, my love my life
I own all pleasure I have known
My guardian through all harm and strife
Whose heart beats always with my own.
I offer you everything that is mine
And pray each day in gratitude
To God who made you so divine, 
Adopting no hypocritical attitude
When praising your eyes, your hair your face
Without which I’ll die each morn and night
When thou art taken to a higher place
To dwell forever in God’s loving sight.

But, my darling, I well can see
T’is better mourning fall to me
Than thou remain, thy tears to shed,
Each night without me in thy bed.

How I used a useless year.


It seems almost incredible that it is twelve months since I began putting up posts here and on the writing consultancy site. Last October I was suddenly faced with three separate serious medical diagnoses which both frightened me and took away, at first, my will to share my thoughts and writing with others. One may say that being told one has has an untreatable illness for which there is no known cure, but is not by any means terminal, just painful and incredibly tiring, is not all that serious. But when I tell you that added to this the cancer from which I was already suffering suddenly got worse and a secondary tumour was suspected and investigated for several months, and then a follow up to four cerebral strokes, which involved a weird sequence of memory loss and confusion, and you can start to imagine what I was going through. It is a wonderful thing to have a caring wife and family, I would not have managed as well as I did without them and the large number of people on five continents who daily kept me in their prayers. Anyway, if you are wondering where I have been that about sums it up. But during a year such as this what does one do? Well this is what I did.

After four months of regular hospital appointments taking up most of my time I had to resume writing somehow. Having never earned a penny in my life doing anything else I started to amuse myself by writing what I wanted to write and not what breaking news or literary criticism dictated. First I found a wonderful site, FanStory, which I would recommend to anyone who is bored and has no other way of diverting themselves except by writing and chatting to other putative Nobel Literature Prize winners. This super site lets you post anything you like and gives you the chance constructively to review works posted by any other site members. There is also the option to chat to writers from all over the world who are often far more interesting in themselves than their writing. Add to this the daily prose and poetry competitions available to all and the site really can draw you back from the abyss of never believing in yourself again. While enjoying myself with this diversion I also wrote a series of poems , flash fiction and short stories that I found a lot of fun. On the advice of my family and friends I gathered a selection of these and they are being published under the title ‘ Day Dreams’ by Anton Wills-Eve at the end of next month. I like to think that either the paperback book or e-book edition would make an ideal stocking filler for Christmas for that friend or relative for whom you just can’t think of a small gift. The collection covers every genre of prose and verse there is from humour to tragedy, mystery to romance and several heartfelt works inspired by my own life.

By the middle of the summer my health was picking up, or at least getting no worse, the cancer for instance had NOT spread. This type of encouragement prompted me to write a novel and I must admit this was pure enjoyment. A romance between two neurotically crippled youngsters with quite different approaches to the raw deal life has dealt them, and the way they rescue their affection for each other, seemed a cheerful way to venture into fiction, although of course a lot of it is true! So I finally finished my first novel ‘James and Jacqueline’ which I hope will be available in all formats and on line by January.

One of the most extraordinary aspects of my health problems, certainly the most incomprehensible to me, has been the memory confusion. I have watched a whole series of excellent television dramas and comedies in the past year and enjoyed them as though I was watching them for the first time. The odd thing is that I had seen all of them before but had absolutely no recollection when viewing them again. This really was a blessing with detective mysteries because although they had been seen before they were quite new and the plots had to be followed and worked out all over again. It is indeed very strange how illnesses have their own compensation in so many cases in life. For instance, had I not broken my left wrist before a school rugby match when I was twelve I would never have taken up tennis for the next four months. I was quite good and have always thanked God for that injury. What a strange prayer I must have said!

But to return to the last year. Ever since I was forced to give up being a war correspondent in 1982 and switched to translating, lecturing and reviewing until retiring from full time work, I have always kept up with breaking news everywhere in the world. I am a third generation news journalist and even while at University in Paris I earned my (considerable) pocket money as a sports and war reporter for an American News Agency. I cannot imagine life without writing so I shall try to continue to post something, however brief or boring, every day for as long as I can. So until tomorrow’s offering, whatever it may turn out to be, I bid you all goodbye and for those of you who do not live in England think how lucky you are with the storms we have going on at the moment.

All of you take care of yourselves

My New Books.


My second poetry book, in a new format, is due to be available on line, in major booksellers and through distributors by the end of November. It is a selection of my poems, short stories and flash fiction and is entitled “Day Dreams”.  Written mainly for my own pleasure it covers all types of and genres of verse forms and includes romance, humour, war and spiritual and reflective poems and stories. My sole hope for it is that those who read it will enjoy enough of it to be glad they took the time. It would also make an ideal Christmas stocking filler for those friends and relatives for whom you just cannot think of a suitable present!

To follow this, my first novel, “James and Jacqueline” is a romance about two young people crippled by anxiety neuroses who have their lives greatly limited by their mental illness. It explores how differently people deal with the challenges of fighting and settling for either acceptance or despair when considering their lives. It particularly faces up to the problem of how does someone who cannot believe in a God who has given them such a raw deal in life ever become happily married to an equally emotionally battered person who decides that only by prayer and belief in God will they manage to get through their life happily. Added to this one of them has lost both parents in a car crash as a fourteen year old, and the other has to face the possibility that their family is involved in an international crime syndicate. In short plenty of action, anxiety and angst. But it does have a terrific ending.

There will be more information on these works at https://antonwillseve.wordpress.com or email me at aawillseve@aol.com. Thanks in advance to all who give me the benefit of the doubt and buy a copy! 🙂

Anton