So earlier I posted a review (oh fine, ‘rave’) of The Good Son, which I enjoyed writing so much that I’m considering actually paying more regard to the title of this blog in future and doing a few more ‘Books I bloody love’ entries. Especially at the moment, while I’m somewhat nostalgic and rereading the Asimov Dragon Books series, and reciting the Thunder poem from Thunderwith on a loop in my head, like it’s an earworm. Meantime, though, this has been a week of Happenings, the biggest one being that I turned 33. I admit to dreading it. Continue reading “Age cannot wither her, except it has.”
Category: writing
On the flipside
Three weeks and an election later. Sorry. I forget, sometimes, that this blog is how my family keep track of me when I’m being the worst daughter in the world and failing to call them. (You can tell when that happens because I swear more in the entries.)
When I finally did speak to my mum she berated me, mildly, for not doing some sort of update here on the past couple of weeks, which did include a weekend trip to London and catching up with old friends and this fantastically chilled dog called Buzz that lives with one of them and the game-changing workshop with AL Kennedy that means I’ll never be quite so inept at talking in front of an audience again, and the always-emotional London marathon (nothing better than giving jelly babies to people staggering through their 5th hour of running and watching them perk up). And there was another weekend that involved walks and a slightly crap picnic. Continue reading “On the flipside”
On with the show
I am having some trouble keeping this blog updated at the moment. I’ve been trying to figure out why. It’s not lack of time to write it – after two years of regular entries it’s not difficult to carve out an hour. If anything, I’m pretty good these days at making time to work on something or other – even this month, which includes normal work, freelance work, trying to keep going with short stories and a long story, and my first ever effort at NaPoWriMo (which has at least kicked my poetry writing back into action at a point when I was starting to feel that I’d run out of ways to string words together or subjects to even write about). Continue reading “On with the show”
Words into pictures
Well, the eclipse in all its cloudy, non-glory has been and gone. The world is still standing. The moon did not (as I sort of briefly fantasised) get comfy in that spot right in front of the sun, so there’s no kind of UK-based, winter-forever, the-shadow-has-fallen apocalypse going on. (Yes, I know there’s a load of scientific reasons why that wouldn’t happen, but for a little while it was more exciting in my head than the reality of an entirely grey sky and twitter making jokes.) So I guess I’ve got no excuse but to sit and write a slightly overdue blog entry. Continue reading “Words into pictures”
A blog of ice and fire
All right, let’s take a breather from endless witterings about new jobs and moving, and go back to something lit-based. News, folks – there’s always* news! (*sometimes.) And, what the hell, today I’ll combine it with something of a review. Yes, it’ll be one of those rare occasions where I focus on something marginally relating to the name of this blog. Speaking of which, the title of this entry is a reach and I know, but work with me.
Behind the scenes
Life’s been trundling on behind a headline roll so bad that it’s a shock, sometimes, to look social media and see people discussing silly, small things. Our internet broke down this morning, briefly, and it was a relief to escape the stream of world news for a while. (Yes, I could just turn my computer off and so forth, but what can I say – I’m an addict.)
Still, when the outside world is shut out and I can look at just what’s going on in my personal sphere, things are pretty good. Continue reading “Behind the scenes”
Here be dragons
My tea is cooling and the dogs are asleep across my legs, and the pervading feeling is one of waiting. I am not good at waiting.
The wait is for 2014 to wobble through its last hours and 2015 to start, because once it starts, life picks up pace again, and I’ll be able to pack and organise and be proactive in a way that isn’t really possible at the moment. Continue reading “Here be dragons”
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
About a month ago, I wrote here that quite a lot needed to change. I wrote that as a dare to myself, really. A threat or a promise. I was poised to do or not do something. I wanted to push myself off the cliff, and if that failed, pick up and try something new.
So I talked things over with CM and did the thing, and now I can tell you all that we will be leaving London and moving to Newcastle – or the general vicinity thereof – in the new year, because I got a new job. Continue reading “Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes”
Up North: a general lack of grimness
Two entries in week? Yeah, why not. Thanks for the lovely, off-wordpress comments from various folks about the previous entry. I wrote it dry-eyed and then got terribly emotional after the fact, though as my dad said (about me taking so long to realise what they offered): Taking ages is good; it’s forgetting that’s the sin.
This is a quick one. I’m writing it on the train back to London having spent the past 24-hours or so in Newcastle.
The writer next door
Last week, browsing the bookstands at Southbank (yes, again. I have an addiction), I picked up two books by Lillian Beckwith. There are a few names that leap out at me when I’m running my eye over a shelf, and hers is one of them.
Growing up, Lillian Beckwith was our next-door neighbour. We didn’t know her as Lillian Beckwith. We knew her as Mrs Comber. When we first moved in, my dad mentioned that she was an author, and as a kid who liked to write, that caught my imagination. I honestly can’t remember, looking back, if I wanted to be a writer before we met the Combers, or if knowing them is what made me want to work with words. Continue reading “The writer next door”
Bookworms and Coffee Monsters 