A few days ago, a Facebook memory popped up in my feed, back when I was shortlisted in a writing competition for the first time. Hurray! It was the London Independent Story Prize in the UK and a piece I wrote about a golden-orb weaver spider. I didn't win but it felt great. I get … Continue reading My year of writing dangerously -or how to write fiction when you don’t know what you’re doing.
Blog
‘A Room of One’s Own.’
"A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." Virginia Woolf. In all my 54 years I have never had a room of my own. Until now. I have wanted one all of my life. But there's always been something in the way. As a kid I … Continue reading ‘A Room of One’s Own.’
Welcome to our crisis
It's not so bad in here. I'll admit to a few existential hiccups. One of them is constantly forgetting we're in a different world and carrying on for a second like nothing has changed. It's an odd feeling when I remember a lot has changed. Does anyone else occasionally feel a flash of being in … Continue reading Welcome to our crisis
How to poach a perfect egg
Skip to the bottom if you want to get right to what is seriously the easiest and fastest way to poach an egg. There's a ritual my husband and I keep to without fail, as we drive into work on a Monday. It generally follows a weekend of excess, too much wine, too much cheese, … Continue reading How to poach a perfect egg
On the forest floor
"Grief grinds slowly, it devours all the time it needs." Long Witt Woon: The Way Through the Woods. Five years ago my friend died. Not without notice, but it was fast and I felt riven. I'd lost good friends and family before and grieved desperately for them, then and now, but this loss blew me … Continue reading On the forest floor
The magic of old friends
Old friends. A mirror, a lighthouse, a sure path in the dark.
I remember you
On learning to love and saying goodbye.
When life gives you lemons
When you have too many lemons, here's a simple recipe for an environmentally friendly lemon cleaner which uses the juice and the peel.
At The Edge
How I jumped off a skyscraper, lost my mind and found it again. An essay on trauma and recovery.
The problem isn’t Freo, it’s you.
In defence of Freo.
