Writers dreaming

A few nights ago I had a dream about a staff, a stile and a horrid dark dank dungeon. There was a woman in the dungeon and I knew she was going to torture me. When she poured liquid on my face, I accepted my fate: that I was doomed. The only way out of…

All that glitters

During the past two weeks I’ve been sleeping in a tent in a field on the south coast of Cornwall, in the place where my third novel is set. I’ve been holidaying with friends and family, and writing, and all the time making mental notes of the subtle changes in weather, the habits of local birds;…

The elusive self

Due to some cock up with EE, I’ve had no phone this past week and so yesterday I decided to fly away on my bicycle – the kids were at school; my work could wait. It was the perfect day to go and get mindful with Marina Abromovic. Arriving at the Serpentine Gallery http://www.serpentinegalleries.org/ (I got…

And so

I’ve written a story about a man who likes to talk to a woman on the telephone. He knows that she’s in love with him, and he’s determined that he isn’t in love with her; only he likes to have her there. He makes contact with her, and he always picks up when she calls….

What is love?

Recently, I’ve been thinking about love. My husband and I went to a wedding. ‘One of the last of the original,’ I said at the reception after a little too much champagne. ‘Next it will be second marriages.’ But the April sun shone down on us with its spring promise. We settled in our pew,…