A spare half hour?
Perhaps the deepest and most soul-searching interview questions I have ever been asked as a writer…
Perhaps the deepest and most soul-searching interview questions I have ever been asked as a writer…
Once upon a time there was a man called Robin Hood.
He’s been well publicised through the years, through books, TV and film (God forbid on film!).
Even I have mentioned him The Gisborne Saga. (I, II, III) – except that he was only a minor character to my Guy of Gisborne.
Anyway, to continue…
Once upon a time there was a Jack Russell.
He was born at a well-known JRT kennels but he had no aspirations to be a show-dog.
He just wanted to have fun…
Over the last few weeks, I have had issues with my upper spine, the cervical spine – C4 , C5 and C6, very close to my neck. This has been exacerbated by use of the laptop as I transcribe large chunks of Tobias from paper to the computer, editing the first draft in the process…
A huge day working on the farm today. Too tired to cook dinner so we will have fish and chips…
Too tired to write Tobias out of his next trauma. Almost too tired to write a blog.
Instead, as the mellow yellow of late afternoon cast it’s caul over the farm and the shadows lengthened and the light became soft and dream-filled, I took my camera and tried to let it write a blog for me…
I often wonder how I got myself so deeply entrenched in the twelfth century. If one takes the TV or movie image of that era, it’s represented by mud, damp and ell upon ell of brown or taupe cloth which has been hastily cut and roughly sewn together to make tunics.
What is it about contentment?
The dictionary defines the word as ‘ease of mind’ but rather unusually, it’s plain old Wiki that gives me the best definition: ‘ Colloquially, contentment is simply a way of accepting one’s life state and being grateful or happy with it.’
Yes and yes again…
Our village pop-up cinema is showing Paddington this coming Tuesday and patrons have been invited to bring Paddington with them. When I became pregnant with my daughter 36 years ago, my parents bought a Paddington Bear for the baby, not knowing what sex it would be – the baby that is, not the bear. At great cost for the time, they purchased a delightful bear that was made in the UK and which was as big as the eventual baby girl.
In between writing Tobias, I’m in the throes of making chutney from the largesse from our orchard. We’ve already frozen stacks of nectarines and apricots for all things jammy, desserty and cakey. (That word – cakey. Reminds me so much of the late M.m. Bennetts – writer of the most extraordinarily good historical fiction set in the Napoleonic Wars. Cakey was definitely her thing.)
I was fortunate enough to have been sent an ARC of Posie Graeme Evans’ new book, Wild Wood, over the summer and sat in my little coastal eyrie having one of those experiences that I love with reading. You know the one – where you can’t wait to go to bed at night to read the next chapter and the next?…