I've never read any of Christie's books but I'm very aware of her contribution to literature. Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot are legendary characters. I'm especially familiar with the latter thanks to David Suchet's portrayal of him in the TV series my mother loved to watch. St Mary's Church, Cholsey Despite her huge success, Agatha... Continue Reading →
(Written at 13, re-written at 20 and found in the archives at 30-and-a-bit) Aged thirteen and late in bed, I realised that one day I’d be dead. My stomach gave a sudden jolt, and in me found a strange revolt, against the idea of ever ending, and I wondered about bending, time around me so... Continue Reading →
After many machinations, alterations, deletions, frustrations and other things ending with -tion I have finally finished The Book. I have bits of this book on my computer that date back to 2011 - yikes! All 29 chapters now stand before me, hovering somewhere between novella and novel (I haven't done a word count yet as... Continue Reading →
I went through the blogs I follow recently and was surprised by how many had been 'vacated'. Some bloggers posted about how they were taking a break or leaving entirely. Others had gone onto their own website (and good on them). The ones that intrigued me, were those that just stopped, the last posting giving... Continue Reading →
You were full of promise, you were heavy with burden. The expectation of a nation, sat in every fold of your gross exaggeration You were filled with blood, you were kept in stone. In the killing wild, the precious child, laid the path for your bold body to be deified. You were ample for their needs,... Continue Reading →
The National Trust house Batemans is nestled in the East Sussex countryside. The 17th Century property is a nice place to visit anyway, but it has an added attraction as the home of Rudyard Kipling. I'm not the biggest fan of his work but you cannot argue with the importance of his works such as... Continue Reading →
This is a very sad day. I want to say something, but there’s not much I can add to what I said in this previous post. This says it all.
I recently started reading Terry Pratchett’s latest book ‘Raising Steam’, with a slightly heavy heart. Not because I didn’t think I’d enjoy it, I knew I would, but because each new book brings us a bit closer to the time where there will be no more new books.
He has a very rare form of early onset Alzheimer’s and it’s meant that it’s becoming harder for him to write. He can’t type anymore and now dictates his books to his assist Rob or uses voice recognition software. With luck he can carry on for a good few years and he’s also said that he is happy for his daughter Rhianna to carry on writing his famous Discworld series so his legacy is safe. Still it will be a very sad day when he can no longer write books himself.
For years I’ve wanted to write him a fan letter and…
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It seems almost impossible that I should have neglected to find the final resting place of the author of my favourite book, Alice in Wonderland. And yet I did. I assumed that Lewis Carroll was interred somewhere in London or Canterbury perhaps. The truth is he rests in a fairly unassuming graveyard in Guildford, roughly... Continue Reading →
This is possibly the most famous 'book about writing' there is; William Struck Jr. and E.B. White's The Elements of Style. I didn't read this book at the start of my writing journey, although I'd heard of it before and knew it was supposed to be the book about writing. It's one of a few books... Continue Reading →
He said; get rid of your diaries, they only speak of pain. I said; I wrote because I felt. And it was better than punching someone I think.
Wordland 