Those of you who have been following for a while will know that I usually keep a pet bird – but just the one. That changed recently when I realised that my shy budgie Artemis was never going to be true friends with me, and needed a companion of her own species.
Not to be confused with the line dance called “county line”, county lines is a form of trafficking where drug traffickers get kids to ferry their drugs around for them. Child labour is very much a viable business option if you’re someone who’s not too concerned about breaking the law like, you know, drug traffickers.
It’s more common than you would think, and it doesn’t just involved “troubled” kids (not that they are any less valuable or deserving of protection). Anyway, you can read all about it in my new article for Premier NexGen, Premier’s youthwork arm. You have to register to read the whole thing, but it’s free and you don’t have to sign up for updates if you don’t want to.
After a very long winter I finally managed to get away on holiday to somewhere hot and sunny – which means that you are in for a photo post. You can revel vicariously in my photos of sun, sea and quirky ceramics, or you can just skip this one if it would make you too envious.
I’ve just had an article accepted in principle by a history magazine. How much will I be paid for this meticulously researched piece of work (once I’ve actually written it)? Nothing, nowt, nada and nil. This isn’t as unusual as you’d think, and in this case I don’t mind because it’s on a subject related to Rambles Round Glasgow, so it counts as free advertising. But it’s another example of the complaint I increasingly find myself making: there’s no money in writing.
I sometimes think I should get business cards made that list my work as “professionally interesting”. Part of being an author means that I always have a random fact or interesting anecdote about anything that comes up, and it also means that I spend time at events, on the radio or in print, talking about the most interesting aspects of my books, my research or even just myself. (I have had an unusually full, interesting and long life for someone who likes to think she’s in her early 30s.)
I was listening to an audiobook of Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes yesterday when there was a line so intoxicating that I had to stop in the street, rewind it, and then quickly google it before I forgot it (because it’s hard to mark a page in an audiobook).
I’ve just had a wee explainer piece published on Premier Christianity all about Ash Wednesday. As its origins lie in early church history (which is ancient history), it’s very much my field.
After being somewhat secretive about it last year (it was a surprise for my father), I am now making a screeching change of direction and telling all and sundry that I have a new version of Hugh MacDonald’s Rambles Round Glasgow coming out.
If you read my review of 2022, you may remember that it wasn’t a great year in reading for me. This year, however, has started with three absolute bangers – although I actually started reading them in 2022. The other two were The Martian and Wool, both of which I started in December, but this blog post is about Blaise Pascal’s Pensées, which I read slowly over the course of the year.
K C Murdarasi 