Month: August 2015

Titles. THE BANE OF MY LIFE. That is, of course, a ridiculous exaggeration born from spending too long on goodreads.com in a green eyed stupor. The Quality of Silence Our Endless Numbered Days The Girl With A Clock for a Heart How do they do it? How do these guys come up with such good… Continue reading A Serious Case of Title Envy

I have always admired authors. Scrap that; I bloody love authors, they make up the bulk of my hero list. Take my encounter with Sebastian Faulks this summer, for example. I had planned a whole ream of interesting and intelligent things to say to him. What did I actually say? “Will you sign this for… Continue reading Work Hard. That is all.

I was taught a tough lesson this week: self awareness. It may come as a surprise, but I have a tendency towards prudishness. Whereas it’s true that, after a G&T, I can curse and joke like the dirtiest of sailors, when it comes to writing I turn into Mrs Prudish McGee. I find it difficult… Continue reading Killing my inner prude