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Iceland Trip Rekindles Epic World Chess Battle

1/27/2018

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My trip to Reykjavik in Iceland last year brought back memories of the incredible 1972 World Chess Championships, which had been held at the Laugardalshöll arena there. 

The epic and controversial clash between the reigning champion, Russian Boris Spassky, and the brash young American contender, Bobby Fischer, put that noble sport on the front page of every newspaper in the UK. And made it the lead story on radio and television news.

Did you spot three pointers there to give you a clue as to why the world was so engrossed in a sport that had barely made news before in the modern era? 1972. Russian. American. The Cold War may not have been at its coldest at that time – or hottest, depending on which way you ran the thermal scale – but it was certainly too cool or too warm (thermal scale again) to be comfortable.

The USSR had dominated world chess since 1948, and Fischer was totally disrespecting them. His increasingly erratic behaviour delayed the start of the match by two days. Then he lost the opening game, and forfeited the second after refusing to play it. But after that, it was all Fischer, and he went on to win 12.5 – 8.5. 

The match captured the world’s imagination in a way that chess will never do again. And true to form, Fischer refused to defend his title three years later. A new Russian star, Anatoly Karpov, became champion by default, beginning another long stretch of Soviet domination. 

It all happened during my own chess heyday which ran from 1968 to 1975 and included beating the then British Champion Bob Wade in a knockabout game in 1970, when he unsuccessfully attempted to disprove an opening system I had created. After losing, he analysed my system overnight, proceeding to demolish it the next day. 

Chess has endured across the centuries because it’s a strategic and tactical war game. The aim is to kill your opponent’s King, and much of the enjoyment during the battle is killing those defending him – bishops, knights, pawns, rooks, and of course, the most powerful person in the arsenal: his Queen.

Yep, girl power rocks on the chessboard. 
 
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"My Mental Health Got Worse As His Behavior Grew Darker"

1/23/2018

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My guest blogger today is Tea Jay. Tea Jay is a 24-year-old Mom, based in New England, living with BPD and PTSD.

She is best known for an absolutely spell-binding blog post When You're In The Gray Area Of Being Suicidal (Do check it out here:).

In her spare time Tea Jay works for NAMI - the National Alliance on Mental Health - and writes books about mental health. 

You can follow Tea Jay on Twitter:   https://twitter.com/helloteajay 

And check out her mental health book here:  ​www.amazon.com/Im-Sick-Mental-Health-Adults/dp/1521753199

It wasn’t so much the hitting that bothered me. He didn’t hit me that often, and during those fights I could fight back. I could protect myself when he hit me, even if it left me with bruises and fat lips.

Besides, when he hit me he would be so kind after, as if it never happened to begin with. We were our happiest 48 hours after he hit me. He would swear up and down that it would never happen again, and for a while I would believe him until his temper started boiling over again and the attacks would start again. It wasn’t the hitting that damaged me.

It was when he called me crazy for having a therapist and for taking medications that really bothered me. Because in a way he was right. I was crazy; I was mentally unstable. I couldn’t control my depression or the mania that was waiting for me on the other side. I was rapid cycling between highs and lows. I couldn’t keep up with my emotions; he certainly was getting whiplash. One moment I would be fine, then in the same breath I would be wild, crying uncontrollably. I can’t even imagine what I must have looked like to him.

He said he loved me though, and I believed him. He told me it was all in my head, I just needed to pull myself up by my bootstraps. I tried, believe me I tried. I wanted nothing more than to be stable, to be sane. I tried talking to myself positively. I tried practicing self-love. I tried telling myself it was all in my head, and that I just needed to get over it. I wanted so desperately to be the girlfriend he needed, the girlfriend he deserved. But I just couldn’t manage that with my Borderline Personality Disorder.
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Eventually he wanted me to stop taking my medications. He told them they were silencing me, that I wasn’t my creative self, that I was slowly killing myself with Big Pharma pumping through my veins. I didn’t feel myself on the medications, and he knew best, so I stopped taking my medications. Then he told me he was afraid I was telling my therapist lies, so he asked me to stop seeing him. My parents pushed for me to stay in therapy, but I just couldn’t see how it was helping if my boyfriend and I were still fighting. 
He started telling me I shouldn’t talk a certain way because I sounded crazy. He wanted me to focus in on a career, and to really settle down. He didn’t have time for my artistic endeavors anymore. He wanted me to get serious. I grew to be very depressed; he called me lazy during those times. It didn’t matter how hard I worked, or how much I tried. Whenever he came home to see me crying in bed I was just a lazy girl, and I was letting him down. 
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​My parents pleaded with him to let me continue to get me help. They sent him articles about my illness. He disregarded them all and told me my parents thought I was crazy too. I stopped talking to my family. I didn’t want them to just think I was a failure, this crazy failure. I was humiliated to talk to my mother. I couldn’t look my father in the eyes.

My boyfriend started to tell me that I was crazy when we were out in public. I would start crying as we walked down the streets together. He would sigh and roll his eyes. There I go again, acting crazy. He was so ashamed to be in public with me. He told me the town knew me as the “crazy crying girl.” That made me afraid to ever reach out to anyone. It made me afraid when I was walking around with swollen lips and a discolored face. People would ask, “Who did this to you?” and I wouldn’t answer. Why bother? They all thought I was crazy anyway.

Eventually my mental health hit a low point and I had to be hospitalized. It was my parents who were there for me, not my boyfriend. In fact, he disappeared from my life, moved out of our apartment, and changed his number. I finally had done it; I had outdone myself. I was crazy enough to scare him off. I was so sad to lose him, spending nights missing his touch and days in therapy talking about how I lost my boyfriend. But it was okay; I was safe. I was able to go to therapy and get medication without feeling ashamed. I was starting to get better, even if I was heartbroken. I was starting to find stability.

Until one day I received a call from a blocked number. It was him. He wanted to be with me, too. He didn’t mean to leave me, he even blamed my parents for his departure. How easily I believed him. I quit therapy and medications again and went running back into his arms.

We stayed together for another year after my hospitalization. Things got more intense in the last year. He found that he could manipulate me with my craziness. He would ask me to do things I was uncomfortable with, ending his requests with “You don’t want me to think you’re crazy, right?” I would do them, as if I was willing. I just didn’t want to hear that I was crazy. Crazy meant I was unstable. Crazy was the worst thing in the world to be called. He could call me anything else; ugly, fat, bitch. Just as long as it wasn’t crazy. Crazy was a nasty word to me. I think it bothered me so much because of the stigma that surrounds mental health.
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My mental health got worse as his behavior grew darker. He started telling me, knowing I was in fragile mind states, that the world would be better off without me. He wanted me dead. He would tell me I was a coward for not killing myself sooner. In his darkest moments, upon telling him that I was suicidal, hoping to hear that I was needed, he pushed a handful of pills towards me. He told me to end it all. I swallowed the pills and he left. I woke up days later in an empty apartment, with no missed calls. That was when I knew I needed help. 
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I decided to not only get treatment for my mental health, but to leave the state, going home to my family. The more distance I was from him the more likely I was to answer his phone calls, his pleas for me to return home. I was able to ignore him, and I found my voice again in therapy.

It took me a few weeks to realize that I was just in an abusive relationship. It didn’t click when he hit me. It didn’t click when he called me names. But it made sense, almost immediately, that he was abusive when he called me crazy.

He made me afraid of myself. He made me question every little thing I did. He helped me grow out of love with myself. I was angry with him, for betraying my love and trust. But I was angrier with myself. I never thought I’d be the girl in an abusive relationship. I always thought I’d be strong enough to get out of an abusive situation.

But there I was, falling victim to abuse for three years. 

I was alone for a while. I realized in my solitude that I had been alone a lot longer than when we were finally separated; I had truly been alone for years. He stopped loving me a long time ago. He stopped caring the moment he used my mental illness to manipulate me.  I was okay with being alone though. It gave me time to recover from the trauma that had just taken place. It gave me time to fall in love with myself again. It gave me time to stop calling myself crazy, and to start using words like “smart” or “lovely.” Eventually I would stop defining myself with my mental illness, and although I would recognize that I was mentally ill, I stopped letting it describe me.

Time passed, and eventually I met someone else. I didn’t plan on falling in love ever again. I was content by myself. I may have been alone, but I was seldom lonely. Falling in love with this new guy seemed to be effortless, out of my control. I decided to take things slower with him. I hesitated to invite him over. I kept to just talking on the phone for the first month we started talking.

Eventually he came over. I was starting to feel comfortable with him. He was touring my apartment when he discovered my giant pill box. He asked if I was sick. I replied with a “sorta.” He became concerned and sat me down to talk. I invited him into my world and told him everything. I was struggling with a mood disorder and childhood trauma. He nodded, and said it was okay. I half expected him to be running and screaming out of the apartment.

He never asked me about the pills again, only to remind me that I needed to take my medications before falling asleep. He only talked about my therapy to remind me of appointments and ask how they were going. I felt uncomfortable with him knowing I had a mental illness, but I was also uncomfortable with how calm he was about it. It threw me off. I thought every guy would just write me off as crazy. I wasn’t expecting to find love by being myself.

I started to think he was cheating. That was the only way I could justify how cool he was being with my mental health. I decided to check his search history on his phone; I was blown away with what I found. He had spent hours at night researching my mental health, looking up my diagnosis, reading books online to better understand what I was going through. He was researching me. I was blown away. He truly just wanted to understand. From that day on I had nothing but trust and love for him. He even ended up being the guy I married and started a family with. He has helped me understand that my illness doesn’t define me. He has become my advocate for when I need a medication change or a new therapist. He is by my side, constantly helping me conquer my episodes and find stability again.

It took me a few years to realize it, but having a mental illness doesn’t warrant abuse. You are not a bad person for having a mental illness. You are struggling! Not everyone is going to understand, but you can expect your partner to have an open mind to it. You don’t deserve to be called “crazy” and made to think less of yourself for having a mental illness. Nobody deserves that kind of treatment. Mental illness doesn’t define you, but it is a part of you. It’s something you’ll have to live with for the rest of your life. If you choose to share that life with someone, make sure they’re there to support you, in sickness and in health. Don’t for a moment think you’re not worthy of love because you’re sick. 
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Jodie Whittaker - Mistress of the Whoniverse

1/20/2018

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My guest blogger today is fellow novelist A V Turner. Her topic here - Doctor Who, and the passing of the mantle from Peter Capaldi to Jodie Whittaker.  Without further ado, over to A V.

So the Doctor Who Christmas Special saw the regeneration  of the 13th Doctor. For the first time we have a gender change, as Peter Capaldi became that very fine actress, Jodie Whittaker.

And what about her immortal first words, as she saw her reflection in the Tardis's scanner screen: "Oh, brilliant"? 

Now, this particular change has sparked some interesting comments over social media, and also with die hard Doctor Who fans worldwide.

Was it a good move to make the new Doctor female?

Personally, I think it is a stroke of genius.  I have long admired the writers of this enigma - Mark Gatiss is a particular favourite of mine; an excellent calibre of writer (you only have to watch “Sherlock” to be reminded of that) and Russell T Davies, Steven Moffat, to name but a few.

Having decided on the gender, they must have deliberated long and hard who to cast in this role, as it is one you really do have to get absolutely right, otherwise all credibility goes flying out of the Tardis door faster than Jodie did in her incredible opening sequence.

Having watched Jodie with interest since the announcement, I think she will do extremely well.  She has the experience, good looks, and screen presence. Also, something that sets her apart from some of her peers, is that little bit extra, which you can never quite put your finger on; but you know it’s there, and it’s all good.

Costume is of great importance for a role like this, and I think they have it right, with a nod to previous incarnations.  The long coat, the stripes, the braces.  Quirky, but clean and professional looking.

In this day and age it is extremely important to have strong women as role models, capable of controlling a situation as well as any male.  It is an important message to send to future generations.  No longer will we see females as the ones running screaming to a male, asking “What are we going to do?”.  Women have equally intelligent brains as men.  Life is not a competition, but simply existing side by side, as equals.

It is then, a brave move to make the 13th Doctor a lady, but a wise one.  It promises to be a polished, and professional production, and I personally cannot wait for the first episode which airs in the Autumn.​

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ABOUT A V TURNER​

​A V Turner is originally from Nottingham. 

Her debut novel “In it for the Long Run” was published in November 2017, and she also writes magazine articles, and blogs for fitness company, Jordan Joseph UK. 

Her second book comes out in 2018, and is aimed at getting children interested in fitness and outdoor exercise.  A keen runner and charity campaigner, she lives in rural Shropshire with her husband and daughter.

In it for the Long Run is available on Amazon, here.

Follow A V Turner on Twitter:
https://twitter.com/avturnerauthor
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Mixed, Matched, Stewed Together, With A Pickle On Top

1/13/2018

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My guest blogger today is Rob Keeley, whose Twitter biography describes him as a children’s author, dramatist, workshop leader and filmmaker, and that’s just the short version, he says. 

His life has encompassed everything from reading for the Bar (the legal kind), working in the voluntary sector, helping children with their reading and I.T. in schools, and most recently, independently-publishing his way to success with short stories and novels for young people, which have been listed for the International Rubery Book Award, the Independent Author Book Award and the Bath Children’s Novel Award. 

His first picture book for young children, My Favourite People, is published this summer.  He’s best known for writing the Spirits series of ghostly novels for older children, and it’s these he’ll be considering today...

So, over to Rob:

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I’ve got one big problem with the Spirits novels.  I never know quite what they are.  It’s tough for an author, these days. 

You’re supposed to be ready to define, summarise and pitch your work at a moment’s notice.  Particularly when you’re an indie author still in need of an agent after twenty years’ professional writing experience and several award listings.  Publishers and marketing people want categories.  They want books to be neatly boxed and labelled, ready with a BIC category, or Thema, or whatever they’re calling it now.  
And yet, here I am after seven years as an author for children, with four 30, 000-word novels out there, standing on the edge of the fifth and wondering quite what I’ve created.  The fifth book, The Coming of the Spirits, will be the last in this series, and will hopefully see publication by the end of 2018.  I can’t help feeling I ought to know what I’m writing by now.
 
So they’re ghost stories.  I guess we could glean that from the series title, and the fact that every book in the series has the word Spirit or Spirits in its title somewhere.  But the official category lumps “Horror and ghost stories; chillers” in together.  And they’re for children – up to young adult.  I’ve met parents who run a mile from the word “horror”.  I’ve encountered families at my signings, perfectly happy to discuss the books until you say something like “ghost”, whereupon the parents suddenly say: “Oh, we don’t like ghosts, do we, Maisie?  Perhaps when we’re a bit older?” and then start steering the young reader firmly towards the coffee shop.  (The child’s eyes, however, are usually telling me that they actually wanted to read it.)
 
So I can’t say “horror”, and have to be very careful about the word “ghost”.  And that’s not the whole story, anyway.  Childish Spirits, the first in the series, came out of my Creative Writing MA on Supernatural Novels for Children, and was a straightforward ghost story.  But increasingly other genres are creeping in.  The Spirit of London was as much historical mystery as ghost story.  The Sword of the Spirit saw time travel enter the series for the first time.  High Spirits, the most recent, is a time-travel historical paranormal mystery socio-political coming-of-age I-don’t-think-there’s-a-noun-coming-here extravaganza (yes there is), which begins in a priory and ends on an altered present-day Earth, meeting shape-changing ghosts and Nazis along the way.  And wait ‘til you see where we go from there.  
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My problem is that I like to mix and match genres and create my own literary forms.  Which doesn’t sound like such a big deal, but I imagine there are marketing people losing their hair out there with the stress of these genre-defying books, and sometimes it makes it difficult to explain them in a few words at signings, or for that matter, to pitch them to agents and trad publishers.  It’s odd really, as I grew up reading and watching tales that cheerfully mixed and matched, and I can’t see why it’s such an issue now.  One agent (who turned me down for material she “couldn’t relate to” on the same day I’d just returned from doing workshops for ninety enthralled schoolkids) told me I couldn’t mix fantasy, mystery and family life – which would be of great interest to the millions of Harry Potter fans worldwide.  Often it’s the mixes that maximise the audience and create the most successful forms. 
 
Think about the great classics of children’s literature.  Nowadays, Winnie the Pooh would be labelled as 5-7 – but there’s a great deal of grown-up (as opposed to adult) humour in there, and some wordplay that would have to be explained to the young ones.  Richmal Crompton’s William stories are written with very few concessions to the vocabulary of the young reader.  What genre is The Wind in the Willows? Fantasy?  Adventure?  Humour?  Social tract?  All of these?  And I’ve seen Treasure Island and Kidnapped on lists of children’s classics, even though you wouldn’t choose to read them as a cosy bedtime story.  In the old days, it was story and characters first, genre and age group after, if at all.  Audiences can be larger than we realise, and can straddle the generations. 

​Modern children’s authors such as JK Rowling understand this very well.  Marketing and the perceived needs of a target audience are of vital importance – but should not be allowed to stifle creativity.  We don’t want formula pieces or books devised by committee.  (And in any case, successful series like Potter and its spin-offs have marketing campaigns designed to fit them.)  Increasingly it’s within the talent pool of independent publishing that new forms are devised and literature grows, forcing the literary world to open up and modernise – much as the coming of ITV challenged the BBC to review its ethos in the Fifties and Sixties, with great results.    
 
So the Spirits novels are “ghostly time travel tales”.  Or “ghostly fantasy tales”.  That’s about the best I’ve come up with.  Kids seem to like them, anyway, and I’ve had various longlistings and shortlistings for awards, as well as four- and five-star reviews and the chance to work with schools and libraries on building children’s literacy through my workshops.  In one of these, the children managed to find some extra ghosts on the cover of Childish Spirits, which was unnerving (I can’t see any except the ghost in the mirror.  Can you?  CAN you??).  At the end of another workshop, one boy came up to me and said, eyes wide, completely straight-faced:
 
“Is there a lot of horror in it?  Because I like a lot, you know.  You can put in as much horror and gore as you like, for me.  It’s good.” 
 
I smiled, then started sidling towards the door.  It obviously didn’t worry him as much as the parents I’d met.
 
But why should we be censoring children, anyway?  It’s like people who ban wizard and witch books out of a belief they interest children in the satanic.  It’s something an author of ghost novels has to beware of, too.  I was asked about this recently and explained that my average childhood day probably encompassed reading Simon and the Witch before school, going in and rehearsing bemused fellow kids in my latest sword and sorcery play, and then coming home and watching Count Duckula or Knightmare.  I’ve now published seven books of my own, all with fantasy elements in them somewhere (covers pictured below).  I’m also a baptised and confirmed Christian.  Well, where do you think all that stuff in my books about the afterlife and the spirit world comes from?
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I vote we let kids read all the literary forms, all the genres, preferably mixed, matched, stewed together and with a pickle on top.  You emerge from reading fantasy, in particular, with a very clear understanding of right and wrong, knowledge of the importance of teamwork and friendships, experience in solving puzzles, riddles and mysteries and the ability to cope with anything from death to a wish that was never granted.  You can master any situation, because your heroes could.  Having gone from special school to postgrad, lawyer to P.A. to author, I should know.
 
Now, what’s this ghostly casserole called the Spirits series all about?  Well, it’s the continuing story of Ellie, a schoolgirl who becomes increasingly aware that she has the power to see and hear ghosts from all periods of history.  Her mother works for a company called Journeyback which looks after historic houses, ruins and castles, and this gives Ellie every opportunity to get mixed up in ancient injustices and solve mysteries from across the ages.  There’s always a new ghost, someone wronged in their lifetime – or sometimes, the perpetrator of a wrong.  And Ellie has to try to put things right, while avoiding meddling with the timelines and trying to find out who she really is.  Not much, then.  It’s played out against the backdrop of her parents’ breakup, her arrogant teenage brother Charlie is always watching, and she’s also under observation from a mysterious woman from Viewpoint, the government’s ghostly watchdog which resents Ellie’s interference.  But she has her best ghostly friend, the Victorian boy Edward, to help.  
 
As we go into The Coming of the Spirits, history has been radically and catastrophically changed.  Ellie’s mistake in a previous book has led to the barrier into the spirit world being breached – and any moment now, every evil spirit that ever lived is coming back to wreak its revenge on the mortal realm.  Ellie finds herself alone, without home or family, cut off from friends and allies.  All she has to go on is an old legend of the spirit world, which talks about her as “The Grand Defender”...
 
What else?  The manuscript of the book currently contains the words “balloon”, “curse”, “lasagne”, “evil”, “supermarket”, “toad”, “railway bridge” and “hatch”.  Someone says: “Now, listen to me, dunghead” (though I have to get that past the editors – I’ll cough or something) and someone else says: “We’ve got to find him”.  Characters from all of the previous books will be back for the finale – and Ellie will finally discover her true destiny. 
 
And that’s all I can say.  The casserole is made, and is on a low light while I finish this year’s other big project, my picture book My Favourite People, with illustrations by the very talented Simon Goodway.  It’s much lighter in terms of plot, being more a character-based piece, and I shouldn’t have any trouble explaining this one.  But soon I have to lift Ellie out of the cliffhanger I left her in at the end of High Spirits, save the world from ruin, answer all the remaining questions from across the whole series and still get a few jokes in somewhere.  Prepare for the genre-busting rollercoaster of a lifetime – or deathtime...
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* * * * * * *
  • For more information on Rob and the Spirits series, visit www.robkeeley.co.uk and follow Rob on Twitter @RobKeeleyAuthor.  You can find his books here:
http://www.troubador.co.uk/shop_booklist.asp?s=Rob%20Keeley
https://www.waterstones.com/author/rob-keeley/213805
https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Rob+Keeley
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Fighting For Every Heartbeat

1/10/2018

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My guest blogger today is Carrie Seaton, Fundraising Manager for the British Heart Foundation in Leicestershire and Northamptonshire.

Originally from Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire, Carrie now lives in Northampton with her husband and two cats, raising money for this incredibly worthwhile cause.

​Over to Carrie:
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As the hustle and bustle of Christmas is over, and the glitz and glamour of New Year has come to end, we are starting to get back into our daily routines – the children are back at school, you might be back at the gym or you are planning for the year ahead at work.

As you are getting settled into 2018, maybe now is the time you are considering taking on a new challenge, considering volunteering for a charity, or maybe you work for a company who is looking for a new charity partner for 2018.

Well if so, I am here to tell you a little bit about the British Heart Foundation (or the BHF) and maybe I will inspire you to get involved.

​So here goes….
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Working across the two counties of Leicestershire and Northamtonshire is perfect for me, because I have good knowledge across my patch.

My role is varied and every day is different, which is one of the things I love about being a fundraiser! One day I might be meeting a supporter who is sharing their story about living with heart disease, another day I might working with volunteers to set up a volunteer fundraising group in their town and the next I might be cheering on a company doing a skydive for us as part of a charity of the year partnership.  

I see on a daily basis how BHF research is making a difference (I will come onto that shortly), but to me personally I have had firsthand experience of how heart disease can affect a family. I never got to meet my grandad, Jack, because he sadly passed away from a sudden cardiac arrest before I was born. I know how important it is to fund more lifesaving research so that other families do not have to go through the pain of losing a member of their family. 

I am so proud to work for the British Heart Foundation, and proud to be part of the East Midlands Community Fundraising Team, raising money that really does change lives.
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All Things BHF
Now I want to spend some time telling you about the amazing work of the BHF, and hopefully share some information you may not have known.

The British Heart Foundation is the nation’s leading heart charity and we are the biggest independent funder of heart research in the UK. We do all we can to help keep the hearts of men, women and children beating normally across the country. Our pioneering research has helped to transform the lives of people living with heart and circulatory conditions. Our work saves lives – tens of thousands in the UK each year alone – and enhances the lives of many more.

Heart disease is still Britain’s biggest single killer, affecting over 7 million people. Far too many people die prematurely. Our Vision is a world in which people do not die prematurely or suffer from cardiovascular disease.

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So you may be wondering, what is cardiovascular disease (CVD), or heart and circulatory disease? Well it is the umbrella term for all diseases of the heart and circulatory system. This includes the whole range of diseases that our research is trying to beat from heart failure to stroke and from congenital heart conditions to abnormal heart rhythms.

Heart disease touches so many people - maybe you know someone who has been affected by heart disease? A friend, a colleague or a neighbour? Have you sadly lost a loved one yourself? Maybe you are even living with a heart condition?

Today and every single day 440 people will lose their lives to cardiovascular disease. More than 100 will be younger than 75. 12 babies will be born with a heart defect. 480 people will go to hospital with a heart attack. And 640 people will be admitted into hospital with a stroke.
 
And every month here in the East Midlands, 960 families are torn apart each month when lose someone they love to heart disease. Our research is helping to keep families together.  
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Our Research
The BHF being the UK’s largest funder of cardiovascular research funds around £100million of life saving heart research every year. Currently funding over 1,000 research projects across the UK, and 46 of those are being carried out here in the East Midlands.  Since being established in the 1960’s the annual number of deaths from CVD in the UK has fallen by more than half. That is because the BHF has been behind every pioneering heart related breakthrough from the modern pacemaker through to stents and statins that millions of us take for granted today.
 
Another impact of our research is illustrated by the fact that in the 1950’s 1 in 5 babies with CHD died and now 4 out of 5 babies survive. In the future we will continue to grow our dominance in the field of research, particularly in the area of regenerative medicine that we hope will one day find a cure.
 
This short video here shows the amazing work the BHF has undertaken and the real achievements made over the last 55 years. But there is still so much more to be done, despite all the successful breakthroughs.
 
Survival

In the UK there are 30,000 out of hospital cardiac arrests each year but less than 1 in 10 people survive an out-of-hospital cardiac arrest in the UK.  Without resuscitation cardiac arrest is always fatal and even though many are witnessed by members of the public, bystanders too often don’t step into help because they don’t have the skills or confidence to deliver CPR (chest compressions).

This means that the survival rate in the UK is shockingly low at just 10%. Our aim is to improve this survival rate. If UK survival rates were as good as other areas across the world we could save up to 5,000 additional lives each year. In countries where CPR is taught in all schools, survival rates are up to three times as high.

By placing defibrillators in to the community and teaching people how to save a life through our Nation of Lifesavers programme (which launched in October 2014), the BHF is trying to change all that and our hope for the future is that every school child knows how to save a life. Our CPR kits, are free to secondary schools, aim to teach vital lifesaving skills to members of the public across the UK. Here in the East Midlands so far we have provided over 400 kits and we have helped fund 1,300 lifesaving de-fibrillators.

Anyone who would like more information on this or would to learn CPR can find details here. 
SUPPORT
​Through our BHF Nurses in the community, our local Heart support groups and our Heart Helpline that responds to over 46,000 calls every year BHF provides vital care and support to all heart patients and their carer’s. The fact that more and more people are living is great news but it’s a double edge sword. There’s more pressure than ever on the health service and more heart patients having to struggle with their condition at home. Through our BHF Nurses in the community, our local Heart support groups and our Heart Helpline that responds to over 46,000 calls every year BHF provides vital care and support to all heart patients and their carers.
 
Retail
 
Did you know that we have over 720 charity shops on the high streets throughout the UK, where you'll find quality books, CDs, DVDs, clothes, accessories and much more. You could support us by:

  • Donating your unwanted items - We’re always looking for good quality items to sell in our shops. You can drop off donations to your local shop or donation bank.  If you have things that are too big to carry, you can book a free collection.  Small Items call 0808 250 0024
 
  • We also have over 170 Furniture and Electrical stores across the UK selling sofas, dining sets, beds, plus much more, at incredible prices! You can also donate furniture and electrical items and we can pick them up for free too! Call 0808 250 0024
 
For more information about our shops visit our website.
​
THE FUTURE
Research is and will continue to be at the heart of what we do here at the BHF. Over the next five years we hope to fund over half a billion pounds of research to improve the prevention, diagnosis and treatment of all heart and circulatory diseases.
 
By 2020, we aim to fund more vital research discoveries, lead the fight to prevent more people developing cardiovascular disease, help more people survive a cardiac arrest or heart attack and ensure more people receive the best possible support, information and care.
 
But there is still so much work to do and we simply cannot do it alone. As a charity, we rely on donations, fundraising and volunteers to help us to continue with our life-saving work as the BHF receives no government funding.  Money raised within the region helps to save local lives, and is helping in the fight against heart disease. 

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HOW YOU CAN GET INVOLVED

If you want advice on living with a heart condition, you have a family member who has heart disease, or you simply want to get some tips on a healthier lifestyle then why not visit the BHF website. You can order lots of helpful publications for free, or even sign up for Heart Matters, our quarterly magazine. This contains lots of helpful tips and advice on how to keep your heart healthy.
 
Or if you want to find out more about getting involved with the BHF through volunteering, trying something new such as doing a skydive for us, holding your own fundraising event, or if you are a part of a company would is looking for new charity of the year. However you would like to get involved then I would love to hear from you.
 
Together, we can Fight for Every Heartbeat.
 
For further information, please contact me on 07967 306483, email seatonc@bhf.org.uk or visit our website www.bhf.org.uk 

 

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    Author

    Stewart Bint is a novelist, magazine columnist and PR writer. 

    He lives with his wife, Sue, in Leicestershire in the UK, and has two children, Christopher and Charlotte, and a budgie called Bertie.

    Usually goes barefoot.

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