What was going on in my teenage brain is unfathomable to me now. I was driven by the overwhelming desire to be expelled so I could spend more time with my dog and my horse.The only teacher that had any control over me was my English teacher, but only from the day, he asked us to write a poem. I wrote hundreds, then moved on to short stories which he helped me get published and I became more focused and a little less defiant.
By the time I was twelve, I had been at boarding school for a year and had become a bit of a comedienne. I was the classroom joker, not the brightest thing to be, but I was fuelled by an inner rebellion, which I seemed unable to subdue. So, I took my anger out on the system.
Hate is so often fueled by religion. How I wish it wasn’t so, then maybe I could reassess my belief. I am a pacifist and I believe there is no place on our fragile earth for gratuitous violence, especially the slaughter of innocent people, in the name God. If I pray for anything, I pray for global peace.
If you didn’t see Climate Change – The Facts on BBC TV last night, you should. Even if you think you are already doing your bit to halt climate change, you need to watch it, so the alarming stats are ingrained in your mind.
What a few days it has been for me in the city of dreaming spires. I don’t like to brag, but I soaked up the words of wisdom of writer and broadcaster, Melvyn Bragg, who is best known as editor and presenter of ITV’s South Bank Show. He was talking […]
Never lose your heart to an animal. These sagely words of advice were imparted to me a very long time ago and I’ve ignored them over the years. I’ve lost my heart and had it broken countless times by the horses, dogs, and cats who have shared my life.
Sometimes fate introduces you to someone in a heartbeat. You don’t have time to cultivate an enduring friendship, but that person still leaves a lasting impression.
Three-and-a-half years ago, I had a lot to get of my chest. A series of bad events responsible for clouding my horizon.
With the summer months stretched out in front of me, I did what I have always done in times of trouble, I reached for my keyboard and poured my heart out.
During breaks from daily workouts over a hot keyboard as I endeavor to master the art of writing with instant grabability, I’ve started reading a new book. Me • You by Dawn French.
I’ve learned by experience that one misconstrued adjective about a leading politician, even in jest, leads to the loss of hundreds of Social Media followers. And where would we be without our Social Media friends?
As Brexit looms, hard or soft, who knows? It is very tempting to let rip about how I feel about the UK leaving the EU. I live in Jersey, Channel Islands, our rock nestles off the coast of mighty France. So close you can almost smell the freshly baked croissants. If I shout, bon matin tout le monde from our north coast, I can expect to hear a rallying cry of bonjour mon ami echoing back across the 14 mile stretch of La Manche (English Channel) that separates us. Jersey may not be politically entwined with the UK, but I feel we are bracing ourselves for less of the bon accord we have so enjoyed for many years.
Christmas has always made me think of the beach and palm trees. Even as a child I used to fantasise about escaping to a deserted beach.
It does bother me that I spend everyday writing, but never allow myself time to sit and read a book these days. But, I have decided to stop beating myself up about it because I do read. I read a lot, but not always in the good old-fashioned way.
These days, thanks to the Internet, it is so easy to tap into a plethora of resources for literature, art and just about everything else… 24/7. So I quench my constant thirst for knowledge browsing the Net.
I have a tendency to run away from arguments, especially when emotionally involved. Does that make me a weak person?
When I closed my eyes, there was chaos. A whirlpool of my life flashing like a technicoloured LED advertising board, down to what was on my shopping list and what I was going to cook for supper.
Jersey is no longer a literary wasteland, the Festival of Words is in its fourth year and is inspiring the lives of many. Richard Skinner, was part of the packed programme this year and he is exactly as the author, Renée Knight, so succinctly describes him… ‘An enlightened and liberating teacher.’
Three years ago, I started with an idea that had been in my head for twenty-five years. No plan, no plot, just an idea and I gave myself free rein to let the story unfold in any direction. As I was seeing life from a more mature perspective, the idea took another turn when I became all consumed with my main character’s backstory.
Whatever genre you wrap up your story up in, however many weeks, months and years it has taken you to reach The End, the next step is to get people to read it.
Forty-years worth of the life and times of the emotionally fragile Lisa Grant, ex-columnist for Metropolitan magazine with a quest to dig herself out of her self-dug rut… encapsulated in 88,000 words.
I was reading Lorenzo Carcaterra’s Sleepers and I couldn’t put it down, taking it into the Indian Ocean and reading it floating on my back, standing up and sitting in the warm, briny sea, until I finished it. More recently, Adam Kay’s This is Going to Hurt – The Diaries of a Junior Doctor, had the same effect, only I read most of it on a sun lounger.
Comedy writers have the most fragile egos. Mindy Kaling At various stages of our lives, our egos take a bashing but now, in the Autumn of my years, I care less about what other people think. And yes, this cavalier thought process even applies to my writing, except… […]