This week it’s the Q&A I promised, and I’m diving into the questions you all sent my way. I cover blogging, Instagram, social media and getting everything done, plus lots of extra things in between. Sidetone – apologies for the glitches in audio quality this week. I didn’t realise my settings were off until after
Do you ever find the universe keeps throwing the same message into your path? Maybe it’s Big Magic at play, or something simpler relating to the way we notice things once they’re on our mind, but right now it feels like everyone I talk to is stalling at the idea of ‘readiness’. The students on my course
I was relaying some of the amazing stuff that’s been happening for me to my friend Hannah recently, and she said to me “you’re flying!” And it made me pause, because I feel like I’m doing anything but. I’m chasing my tail and burning the candle so universally that it’s now just a puddle of wax.
credit I didn’t know Carrie Fisher. It seems redundant to say that, really, but I’ve noticed a trend in recent months for some mouthy trolling type to pipe up whenever someone expresses sorrow at the passing of a fellow human. “Did you know her personally?” Like the only people who matter are those we’re best
Frederik Fekkai once wrote that it is essential to choose a planner with a beautiful cover, as you’ll be looking at it every day. And I, being sixteen and endlessly impressionable at the time, memorised this line and made it my annual agonising mission to find such a thing, at a time when Paperchase stocked
ten mistakes you might be making in your writing Not an expert, purely observational. Well, I did study linguistics at Uni but I’ve forgotten it all, so… 1. Over-using the thesaurus. It was drilled into many of us at school to look for fancy or alternative words. While this works as a vocabulary extending tool,
I love language. I’ve always been a word-nerd – collecting them up from Famous Five books (determined; kitbag) & my mum’s weekly women’s magazines (devastate; masturbate – a regular on the problem pages, although it was some time before I could really pronounce or understand it). I’d absorb them by osmosis – so sure that the imaginary land my soft toys
These are the days that we came here for. When the sun warms our bedroom at the top of the house while the dawn chorus works itself up to an orchestral cacophony. And we dig out the sun cream from the dusty recess of the bathroom cabinet, noting the changes to tiny pudgy hands and
I am in a cafe without wifi and I feel dangerously adrift I keep picking up my phone and putting it down again. My brain is firing off ideas – book that meeting! What was that thing on Twitter again? – and meeting the hard brick wall of non-connectivity. I am like Mulder in one