Author Archives: Scribe Doll

The Yellow Dress

Through a writer with whom we’ve recently formed a pleasant acquaintance, we were invited to a small dinner party given by a prince belonging to one of Italy’s oldest and most illustrious houses.  The kind that owns a collection of … Continue reading

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A Herb Garden on the Windowsill

I’d planned to work today.  After all, for one reason or another – mainly to do with accumulated tiredness, I spent all last week doing dolce farniente.  However, when I woke up this morning, after ten hours’ sleep, I remembered … Continue reading

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Exeunt, pursued by bedbugs

Our first holiday in years.  We entered my acquaintance’s Paris flat, immediately expressing our gratitude to the moon-faced ginger tom who had made this possible.  We could not have afforded a hotel, so free accommodation in the exclusive, almost central … Continue reading

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Norwich Animals

Every morning, half a dozen or so large seagulls gather on the roof of the house opposite H’s study window.  Well, perhaps “gather” isn’t the right word, since they’re never all there at the same time.  They compete for the … Continue reading

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A Soundtrack to Growing Up

Not long ago – I forget where – I read an article in which several writers listed the most influential books of their childhood; books that changed their lives and inspired them to become writers. Inevitably, I thought back to my own … Continue reading

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Eight Complaints of a Literary Translator

One: A couple of weeks ago, my mother’s doctor said he charged £25 to write a (short) letter about the state of her health. I commented that it was more than people would often pay me, as a literary translator.  … Continue reading

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How Much More Can You Bear?

H. stayed up all night, watching the election results on television.  I’d had an exhausting day, so collapsed into bed at around 11 pm.  At 5 a.m., I woke up and went to the living room.  “David Cameron is staying,” … Continue reading

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Surviving the London Book Fair

I’ve pinned my badge to my jacket lapel: Katherine Gregor Literary Translator Freelance  United Kingdom The security man scans it.  A thin, red line crawls over it like a single spider leg.  I step  into the giant, dome-shaped Olympia building.  … Continue reading

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Tallis versus Byrd – when you lack the appropriate vocabulary

“You can really tell if it’s Byrd or Tallis from the first few bars?” H. likes some Early and 16th Century music, but is more of a Romantic and 20th Century man.  He likes passion in music.  I like post-white-ruff … Continue reading

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Fifty

One finger for every pie. One colour for every intention. The first thought that flashed through my head when I saw the gloves.  I was in a Norwich shop called ‘Head in the Clouds’ – apparently, UK’s oldest head shop.  I … Continue reading

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