Archive | January, 2012

The End of a Chapter

31 Jan

I have given up the day job; today is my last day at the office. Although I’ve spent as long there as I did at university, neither the job nor leaving it feels momentous in the way matriculating and graduating did. In my head it was always a temporary job, you see, despite evidence to the contrary.

In fact it’s not strictly true that I’ve given up the day job. Really I’ve just swapped it, since I will now be looking after my beautiful baby niece a few days a week. But not only is this part time, giving me more time to concentrate on writing, babysitting is also more conducive to writing than an office job – especially during her two hour nap. Even when she’s awake she’s wonderfully portable, and can come with me if I need to meet someone or even go to the library. I’ve found a baby opens doors, both in the literal sense (you’ve really got to watch her) but also with booksellers.

So now I really have to commit myself to my writing career, and the uplifting but also scary truth is that I can nevermore say I didn’t have a go. I’ve left safe predictability behind, and I may crash and burn, but you never know – I may discover I can fly.


Copies of Leda Available

25 Jan

At long last I have many paperback copies of my children’s novel Leda in my possession. Of course, I would like to have fewer copies, so please do buy it. Copies are available from me or direct from the publisher, Troubador.

It will soon be available in a number of bookshops in Glasgow, and I’ll let you know on Leda‘s page which are stocking it, once it’s confirmed. There will be book signings too – again, details will follow.

(It will be more generally available after May because that’s the official release date.)

Tags: ,

Jane Austen vs. Food Poisoning

19 Jan
Jane Austen-style dress

Just call me Jane Bennett.

I’m sure the world will be relieved to know that, after a truly horrible bout of food poisoning, I am now able to eat again and don’t have to survive entirely on Lucozade.  Ok, that’s not interesting at all, nor pleasant to think about, but the reason I mention it is this: I suspect that I may have eaten the offending item at a Jane Austen ball at the weekend. There was a buffet, which vastly increases the chances, and the timing would work out.

The ball was held for a friend’s 21st birthday, and it was wonderful, with period dancing (including the one that Elizabeth dances with Darcy in the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice, which bizarrely enough is called Mr Beveridge’s Maggot), period card games (although we gave up on quadrille and played Irish snap instead, except that we called out “quadrille” instead of “snap”) and people dressed up in Regency costumes.  I wore a dress that I made for the occasion (see photo) and was so proud of the outcome. In short, it was a once-in-a-lifetime party and I had a fabulous time.

So here is the quandry: how much suffering is worth it for a once-in-a-lifetime party? On the first day of food poisoning, while writhing on my bed of sickness, I thought, “Ah, but I wouldn’t take back my decision to go, despite the consequences!” On the second day I thought much the same thing. By the third day I was no longer writhing but still couldn’t really eat and felt about as hale and hearty as a wet dish rag – and my conviction wavered. So was it worth it or not?

I’m sure in time I’ll think it was – I’ll have fond memories of the party, may still even have some of the friends I made there, and the ghastly few days will be just a footnote. But now, in the cold light of recency (which I think is a word), what’s the verdict? I have to say I’m really not sure. But if I can break the rules of this little dilemma and make it a trilemma (which definitely isn’t a word, although it’s a handy one), if I could do it all again I would go to the ball, but would merely admire the beautiful buffet from a distance.

Tags: , ,

Leda Available on Kindle

10 Jan

My children’s novel Leda  has just been released as a Kindle ebook.  You can download it from Amazon.  The paperback edition will be available directly from me (or the publisher, Troubador) in a few weeks, or on Amazon in May.

For more details, see Leda‘s page.

Tags: , , ,

Norn Arn

6 Jan

Nuala with the Hula, Belfast (Ardfern)

I spent New Year in Norn Arn. For anyone who doesn’t know, that’s Northern Ireland in a Northern Irish accent. Alternative spellings are Norn Urn and Norn Iron. It was my first time in that part of Britain, so I thought I’d record my impressions, for what they’re worth.

The thing that struck me most was the different attitude to personal space. It’s not that people crowd you, it’s just that don’t have that automatic impulse to move aside when someone else comes too close or tries to get past. Weaving my way to the toilet after church I had to push through knots of people who didn’t seem the least bit awkward about it. When I got to the other side I realised that part of the reason it was so crowded was that a third of the room was empty; people were huddled like emperor penguins.

In some ways Norn Arn is a lot like Scotland, but a notch or two up: the weather is terrible, worse than Glasgow; the people are very hospitable and keep plying you with food; and they seem to have the same sort of humour when it comes to giving nicknames to landmarks – the Balls at the Falls and Nuala with the Hula, for instance.

In other ways it’s nothing like Scotland, or like my part of it anyway – hence the fact that we were at church bright and early on New Year’s Day when all sensible people are in bed. The church was lovely and the sermon was inspiring, but I couldn’t get over the fact that every pew was full at 10.30 on New Year’s Day.

The day I returned (the day before the big storm, fortunately, or I wouldn’t have been going anywhere), we went to Belfast, the capital. Belfast seems like an odd mixture of Dundee and Prishtina (which is not meant as an insult – there’s nothing wrong with Prishtina). Up close it’s much like every other major city, apart from the amazing profusion of craft shops. You will usually find one or two in a city, though you’ll have to search for them, but in Belfast they’re dotted all over the city centre. There’s even a shop dedicated to beads.  So I suppose if I ever do get stuck in Belfast because of the weather, there will at least be plenty to keep me occupied.

Tags: , , ,