Author Archives: Scribe Doll

A Translator’s Point of View…*

* Please see Part One of this story, last week,  A Bookshop for Free Thinkers …. Last Thursday, 27th February 2014. “Eat.  You need sustenance,” says Barbara, my publisher, as the tray with canapés comes towards us.  But I can’t … Continue reading

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A Bookshop for Free Thinkers

It was advertised through Twitter as a book launch cum Charles Dickens’ birthday party, two years ago.  I decided it was the only way to spend a snowy February evening.  Trying to keep my balance on the icy Chelsea street, … Continue reading

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Picking Up The Pen Again

Just start.  Take that first – hard – step. “I haven’t written since before Christmas,” I say to H.  “If we stay at home, I’ll just keep working.  I really want to write something – anything – today.  Besides, we both need fresh … Continue reading

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No Post Today (Again!)

Not being lazy – I promise.

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No Post Today

Scribe Dolls begs your patience.

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No Post Today

Apologies.

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No Post Today

Scribe Doll is working hard.  She is buried under bilingual dictionaries, monolingual dictionaries, Roget’s Thesaurus, typing furiously with two fingers, and munching on Yorkshire Wensleydale with apricots.  She is casting regular glances at the bottle of Jameson’s next to her CDs. … Continue reading

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Winter and the Art of Waiting – and Trusting

One of my recurring nightmares is missing Christmas.  When I am under intense stress and feel like I am losing control of my life, I start dreaming that, somehow or other, I’ve overslept, miscalculated the dates, forgot to look at … Continue reading

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Chatting to Peter O’Toole in Kit Marlowe’s Theatre

We happened to find ourselves in the same corner of the room, looking at a print on the wall, sipping our drinks.  We gave each other a polite nod.  I was trying not to look too starstruck.  Ordinarily, I am … Continue reading

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“I feel guilty, it’s all my fault, I’m a bad person” – a Cop-Out?*

I’ve been thinking about the guilt emotion.  Wondering if guilt can sometimes provide a secure – albeit uncomfortable – hiding place.  Guilt gnaws at our insides.  It pinches so hard at the bottom of our lungs, that we cannot take a … Continue reading

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