Tag Archives: writing

Books: Challenges, Traumas and Pure Pleasure

I remember a stormy night when I was about eleven.  We were living in Nice.  I don’t remember what prompted me.  I stood on a chair to reach the top shelf of my mother’s bookcase where she kept – along with … Continue reading

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London Night Sounds

The rumbling of the occasional car, speeding past our house.  A murky grey sound. Snippets of human voices.  A woman’s giggle.  A crimson sound. The arrhythmic clicking of stiletto heels on the pavement.  A copper sound. The roar of the … Continue reading

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Voice, Stone, Wood and Air as One

I love Early music.  I love its level-headedness, its lack of mood swings.  It’s everlasting YES. Part of the reason I listen mostly to Mediaeval, Renaissance and Baroque music  throughout the day is because, besides its being soothing and immensely … Continue reading

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A Tree with a Name Beginning with S

“I need a new tree friend,” I say to S.  “A tree like my oak Merlin, outside my window in Wimbledon.” My new friend S. is a children’s and young adult fiction writer.  She doesn’t find anything odd or unusual … Continue reading

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Borzoi

I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I dodged my way through the Saturday lunchtime crowds by the market, and strode towards him.  Two women were stroking his cream head.  When he saw me, he slid past them and lifted his … Continue reading

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“So What Brought You to Norwich?”*

When I tell the truth, they don’t believe me. I was brought to Norwich by a sheet of paper, a pen, and a china mug. It was winter 2013, and I was at odds with my life.  There appeared to be … Continue reading

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– and that’s Jazz.

It’s 7.45 and all the tables are already occupied.  The staff are carrying in more chairs.  Drinks are sipped.  The hubbub of chatter hovers over the room, an evocation of the cigarette smoke of yesteryear. The jam session is advertised … Continue reading

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Welcoming In The New Year*

Raid all the cupboards and drawers.  Throw into the charity shop bag anything you no longer want, toss into the bin liner anything nobody would want.  Make room for the beautiful, the useful, the new. Vacuum the carpets, remove the … Continue reading

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Socially Impaired

I am brusquely jolted from my mellow, Sunday morning slumber.  I’ve just remembered.  I have to go to a party this afternoon.  Oh, heck. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” I tell H. over a plateful of French toast. … Continue reading

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Advent Carols at Norwich Cathedral

“We should get there at least half an hour earlier to get a decent seat.” “Half an hour!” “Bring a book.” “I don’t know… reading a book in church?” “Other people chat before the service, which I find infuriating.  At … Continue reading

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