"What's that smell?" I said. "It's the gorse," Roger smiled. " Smells like coconut, doesn't it? Like sun cream..." He was right. The thick yellow gorse which hemmed the path gave off an intense scent that was distinctly coconutty, and like he said, reminiscent of scented sun cream. It was so strong that it was… Continue reading Sun cream and skiing holidays
Tennis balls against a brick wall.Heavy rain against cold glass.Curling flame bullied by breeze. Impenetrably packaged scissors.The last pencil with a broken lead.Empty white page... Can't read; the words won't go in.Can't write; the words won't come out.
I bought a tower of yellow legal pads because movies... I could tell you I'm not an impressionable individual but it would be completely untrue. I see a brand represented by someone I respect, I browse their range; a relatable movie character spends time on an intriguing hobby, I give it a try; and I'm… Continue reading Yellow pages
Writing is so fucking hard. Like yoga or meditation, for me at least, it is one of those perplexing activities that is almost impossible to begin, but once you're in it, it feels the most natural and simple thing in the world. So what's stopping me? My trouble is that I always have a great… Continue reading I should be writing
One of the biggest losses for me on moving to senior school was World Book Day. Dressing up as your favourite character on a school day is a license to free your imagination and strip away your social inhibitions. Granted, as a pre-teen I had very few social inhibitions; I was a free-spirited tomboy who… Continue reading World Book Day
What if... What if I'd gone to a different school? What if I'd stood up to that drama teacher who didn't have time for my individuality? What if I had not done that embarrassing thing with that friend that time? What if I'd just put up with that terrible teacher or uninspiring syllabus? What if… Continue reading A touch of nostalgia
I was introduced properly to Charles Dickens when I was twelve in a classroom directly beneath the sports hall cum theatre and which shared a corridor with two of my three favourite places in the school: the tiny one-room library and the stationery cupboard. One of the original Arthur Rackham illustrations for A Christmas Carol… Continue reading It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…