‘I Remember’ is a writing exercise that was taught to me by either Tim Pears or Geoff Dyer. I can’t remember which, as they were both leading writing workshops that week. It was an Arvon Foundation writing holiday in Yorkshire, which entailed workshops everyday and cosy communal living in an old house that used to … Continue reading I Remember…
I have a number of mental snapshots that feature giraffes - four memories to be precise. I’m in the back of Dad’s car and he’s driving. Mum is in the passenger seat. We’re at a wildlife park somewhere in England, but I can’t remember which. Dad has his window open. A giraffe lopes towards the … Continue reading Giraffes – four of them.
Fecund is one of my favourite words. It means: fertile, fruitful, reproduction, prolific, rich, pregnant. Juicy word, eh? I remember clearly where I found the word fecund. I was seventeen or eighteen. We were studying David Herbert Lawrence’s The Rainbow for A Level Literature at Princethorpe College, an imposing Catholic boarding school in Warwickshire. There … Continue reading Fecund (or: Falling in love with two older men from afar)
We’re adopting a kitten from a wonderful cat rescue centre called The Kitten Inn next week, and it has made me think about my first cat, Dylan. I moved out of Dad’s house and purchased my first home when I was twenty-three. It was a small, two-bed terraced, with a nice but lonely view of a granite quarry. I hated … Continue reading Dylan
Australia and New Zealand played a cricket match recently and it created quite a stir. World Cup Final, I think? I don’t understand cricket. More than that, I seem to subconsciously reject it. I’m not sure why. When we were kids, we used to holiday in Dorset in Summer months – cricket months. We had … Continue reading The Caravan and Cricket
A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to remember all the nicknames that I’d given to my eldest daughter when she was a baby. I was with a friend and our children, enjoying a meal. My daughter was looking at me with her big brown eyes expecting one of those baby stories that she loves … Continue reading Baby Bubble
My first memory of Amsterdam was the four of us sitting outside a bar, drinking beer and eating chocolate cake that made us high. Good friends laughing easily and loudly at silly jokes. Two couples, both married in subsequent years. Now, one couple is divorced and no longer in touch. The other is still going … Continue reading Amsterdam
I’ve decided to push my writing further by participating in the blogosphere’s A to Z Challenge in April for the first time. It works like this: If we take Sundays off, there are twenty-six days in April. Coincidentally, there are twenty-six letters in the alphabet. So, I’m going to blog everyday in April, except Sundays, and … Continue reading A to Z Blogging Challenge & Theme Reveal
I’m endlessly fascinated by how a story is made; how much of it is fact and how much is fiction. I’ve written many stories over the last two years and there really isn’t a single process to the writing of a story, not for me anyway. Some have been born from writing exercises. You know … Continue reading Building Stories: Where do they come from?
… are inevitable. A few weeks ago I went through a number of transformations, physically, spiritually and politically. One door closed: I completed my MA. One door opened: I met a random stranger, had a conversation, and was set upon a whole new path. Writing the blog has been pretty stagnant since, sorry. Not that … Continue reading Changes…