CHARRED REMAINS
Charred Remains is an excerpt from the novel Just Say It! by Tessa Barrie, bittersweet story of how growing up with a narcissist mother, affects journalist, Lisa Grant’s, life.
Charred Remains is an excerpt from the novel Just Say It! by Tessa Barrie, bittersweet story of how growing up with a narcissist mother, affects journalist, Lisa Grant’s, life.
The first time they set foot on the parched earth of their new home and future source of income, it came as a shock. Dropped by taxi during the late afternoon, they stood like a pair of refugees, surrounded by their modest collection of baggage. They were both still under thirty, blond and, outrageously good looking. Two young men that you would expect to find on the front cover of Vogue magazine and not embarking on a seriously get-your-hands-dirty project.
When It’s time for a change, you instinctively know the time is right. Lockdown concentrated our minds, as dedicated health workers around the world became frontline soldiers in the war against COVID-19, while our lives ground to a halt. I’m not sure how we can ever repay them for their sacrifice.
HAPPY SATURDAY! I hope this finds you rude with health and feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, which is not like Lisa Grant is feeling in today’s snippet from Just Say It! She has recently moved to London and is sharing a flat in Notting Hill with two school friends. Waking up the morning after her twenty-first birthday, which turned out to be one hell of a party, suffering from the KATZENJAMMER to end all KATZENJAMMERS.
Wear a sodding mask! It’s not all about you! If you don’t want to wear a mask to protect yourself, then do it for others who are less robust than you. There are people out there fighting pre-existing conditions whose lives are already a struggle. The last thing they want is to contract COVID-19. If they do, the probability is that they won’t survive it. Do you really want that on your conscious? Is that really YOUR CHOICE? So, get over it! Wear a sodding mask!
Last week, my GP told me I had high cholesterol. For those of you who don’t know the implications of having high cholesterol, it increases the risk of cardiovascular disease. It was the wake-up call I needed, because my GP told me the same thing in December 2019 and, now it’s higher than it was before. I need to find out what’s causing it.
During a bout of insomnia in the early hours of yesterday morning, I drowsily stumbled upon an article written by Sky News journalist, Chris Robertson. The Phantom of the Opera is to close, permanently, in the West End. They’re pulling the plug on Phantom? I was immediately wide awake. Over my dead body! We have to save our great British theatre! Covid-19 has done enough damage already; it cannot be allowed to destroy our cultural heritage. For phantom’s sake, whatever happens, our world-class theatre cannot be allowed to pale into insignificance.
The wind drops, the rustling of the leaves stops as a feeling of déjà vu washes over me. I’ve felt this rigid iciness beneath my fingertips before. Thirty-five years ago. I remember.
I never thought I would feel the love for lemon sherbet popcorn, but stranger things have happened when you are stranded at an airport.
The last two weeks of my life are a blur. Flickering in my mind like a black and white cine film. I am running. Travelling at night under the cloak of darkness. Slithering out of the United States, escaping from the injustice thrust upon me.
Yesterday, was the dismal end to a shitty writing week, which left me teetering on the edge. Do I really have what it takes to become a novelist? Or, can I only dare to dream?
Right! Cute and beautiful is the last straw. I’m an ageing Baby Boomer for goodness sake, and my social media accounts are my author pages. Read my bio! I’m trying to promote my writing, I don’t want a bloody date, okay?
Suffering from Autoimmune Disease doesn’t automatically put you at the top of the COVID-19 severely vulnerable list. However, certain medications prescribed to autoimmune sufferers might. None-the-less, receiving a letter this week, four months after Lockdown, telling me I was on the severely vulnerable list – I wasn’t before – came as a bit of a shock. I have a …
Autoimmune Disease: What factors constitute being on the Severely Vulnerable List? Read More »
It’s done. After two weeks, our garden table is de-stressed to perfection. This morning, I kept running the palm of my hand over the table’s silky surface, in admiration of the skill with which it has been stripped. Finally, it is ready to paint! 💃💃
So far, July has been a bit of a damp squib. I was bordering on hyper during June. Honing and buffing the stories that have taken me months and years to write, so I could meet the deadlines for various competitions. I also started submissions again, approaching any literary agents who mention the word humour, somewhere, anywhere, on their wishlist. My excuse as to why not much blogging got done in June 2020.
You kind of know from the moment you wake up that you are going to have a bad hair day. After a fitful night. Hot, cold. Cold Hot. I am woken at dawn by the deep-throated moan of a Burmese cat.
Slow but steady is the pace I live my life these days, and I am much happier and less stressed for having opted out of the rat race.
In 2015, I found out I had scleroderma. I’d known for a while that I might have it but, after the official diagnosis, it turned out I had it for much longer than I initially thought. It is a strange and diverse disease that nobody seems to have heard of, and it manifests itself in …
Lockdown has also highlighted the things that are important in life, and they are not material things. I’ve been a hoarding procrastinator for much too long, but hopefully, it’s not too late to make permanent changes. Says who? Little old wine drinking 🍷, overthinking me.