If I say I’ve been reading all my life, you’ll know I’m exaggerating. If I say, I’ve been reading as far back as I can remember, I’d be closer to the truth. Let’s start with my tenth Christmas morning. I recall the dim light from the hall allowing me to make out the pillowcase, bulging … Continue reading A New Beginning
It’s a Sunday in a different form of lockdown – more of an ‘I could go home, but why should I?’ lockdown. We’re staying in a house surrounded by farmland, with narrow, unmade-up tracks leading to the few dwellings in ‘our’ part of Tuscany. We’re between two villages, small towns really as each village is … Continue reading The Upside of an Extended Lockdown
For most of us the thing which keeps us going at whatever we do is the day-to-day stimulation of real life. Not a fake imitation of living, as this lock-down is. I understand that some kind of regulation which hopes to limit the damage and the death is essential. However, we must not forget that … Continue reading This Petty Pace
You’d think that this lock-down would be the writer’s best friend. Hours and empty hours of time to think, perchance to dream and then to write. This isn’t happening in my life and I get the feeling that it’s not happening in other’s writing life either. When I’m not cooking with whatever we have, ie … Continue reading Writer’s Block in Lock-down
To begin on a positive note – cos I’m working towards writing about the dreaded synopsis – earlier this month I had a story in a short list of 6 writers in a competition run by Henshaw Press. That heart-stopping moment when you see your name on the screen is one every writer deserves to … Continue reading The Writer’s Life
Hello and Good Evening. Most of you here lived through the 1960s and some of you didn’t. So here’s the story. The 1960s was perceived as the swinging 60s and the permissive society, with the Beatles singing Love, Love Me Do. And we did. We loved each other. But behind the pop songs and the … Continue reading Chiswick Book Festival 2019 : The Full Pitch
The sights, smells and memories of the past weeks must be put away. No more moths drowning in the milk or dozing on a lampshade. The porcini mushrooms found in the garden have been eaten and we are still alive. The sun cream lotion is stored away, the beds are stripped and a large pile … Continue reading Moths in the Milk and Porcini on the Plate
Anyone out there who has read my memoir, The Baby Box, could be forgiven for assuming that I am an only child. One friend certainly did and said that being an only child explained why my mother was so harsh with me. No, my mother was harsh because I upset the middle-class, domestic apple-cart big … Continue reading Whose Memory?
As all writers and readers know, the idea of book groups appealed widely and now there are countless numbers of groups across the country as well as, no doubt, other countries. Years ago, I was a member of an online book group. It was run the same as other groups: one member suggested a book, … Continue reading Book Group Discussions
To celebrate the 90th anniversary of the publication of A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf, The Royal Society of Literature are staging a Dalloway Day with events taking place in Fitzroy Square (No 29 was home to Virginia and her brother in 1907), The National Portrait Gallery (paintings associated with the Bloomsbury Group) … Continue reading A Table of Your Own
