“Dream, dream, dream … dream, dream, dream.” Somewhat lame lyrics, and yet once upon a time this was one of my favourite songs (“Whenever I need you all I have to do is dream” sang Donny Osmond and my toes curled). Since then I’ve progressed (for a while there it was “Acroche toi a ton […]
Hold on tight to your dreams – note to self on my birthday Read More »
Publishing a book bears a remarked resemblance to being stuck in a hole and yelling “Hello? Can anybody hear me?” Just because the book is there, it doesn’t automatically sell itself, nor do reviews start pouring in from right left and center. Okay, okay; my book is still a baby, a mere two or three
Lately, Ms Inspiration has not been much help. Not so that she doesn’t spout ideas – she most certainly does, especially around three o’clock in the morning – but her attention span is the size of a newt’s, which means none of the ideas go much beyond an image or two. It’s very annoying to
It has arrived. Not by stork, but by lorry, but the feeling is much the same as that of holding a child. My book. I can heft it in my hand, my imaginary world made real through the sheer weight of the paperback with my name on the spine. Miniature bubbles fizz their way up
“Damn him!” I slam the table so hard my hand hurts. “How can he do that? Bloody idiot of a man!” I go on, muttering a number of creative expletives before returning to my editing. “You wrote that,” my husband protests mildly from his side of the table. “And will you stop whacking at the
In this rather hectic world of ours, now and then one will hear parents talking about quality time with their kids. “Yes, I only see them for like one hour before they have to go to bed, but it’s quality time, you know?” Hmm. As an experienced mother, I’m sorry to tell you it doesn’t
When I was a child, I was seriously angry at my parents for being something as boring as Swedish. Why couldn’t they be Norsemen, Turks, English, or joy of joys, Scottish? (Okay; so I had a major hang up on Robert Bruce from a very early age. Put it down to an enthusiastic history teacher.)
Magpies, according to tradition, are thieving birds that have a particular fondness for anything that glitters. My grandmother would tell me it was a known fact a magpie could make off with a silver spoon or so, using it to decorate its nest. Hmm. Have you seen a magpie’s nest? Not the most elegant construction