I’ve joined Goodreads — I’m here (do get in touch!), and I’ll try to hook up to my reviews when I post them.
I’ve always felt a bit shy about reviewing — a critical review should explore the strengths and weaknesses in a book and I never feel in the mood to criticise; so much effort has gone into making the story, and the majority of books are presented for our enjoyment… what’s to complain about? Read more
Enter THREE WITCHES.
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
Enter FOURTH VERY SMALL WITCH.
Fooooo Foooooooooo! Fooo Fooooo!
The BBC have launched an online grammar test, to tell you if you are a grammar guru, a promising pedant, or a colon confusenik — all in the space of ten short questions.
It’s sad, but I am a sucker for this kind of thing… Read more
I watched LIFE OF PI last night, a magical film that flushed the bleach and wet wipes from my tired, housewifely brain, bringing instead gods, sharks, and salt.
It made me delve into my innermost parts, where I harbour a secret spirituality and an outdated wanderlust. It reminded me of past travels; long days of people-watching and soul-searching — two of my prerequisites for writing, things that I cannot do right now, leaving me to rely on memories of the same. Read more
Six weeks to the summer solstice; they will fly, and then we will be into darkening evenings. Before we know it, 2013 will be over.
I feel as if 2012 was supposed to exhale on its way out, but coughed just as I stepped over the threshold, so I landed in the middle of this year instead of the beginning.
I’ve dropped some flowers onto the blog recently, to make myself look a bit more girly and floaty while I write dark stories.
Look at me, I’m not scary — I like flowers! Read more
A flurry of tweets arrived last night, from people who had, at the “last minute”, managed to submit a story to this year’s Bristol Prize.
I’ve never been listed or placed in this competition, and something about the flurry reminded me just how little I’ve been able to write this year (for reasons of family, or excuses of tiredness — I’m never sure which).
So at 10:20pm last night I decided to write a story for the Bristol Prize. Read more
