That’s it then. The lorries arrived this morning (yes, there were two of them). And they took everything with them, apart from our beds, little L’s favourite teddies and her potty.
It’s done. We have sold our house! I didn’t tell a soul, mainly because I didn’t want to jinx it, but after accepting an offer a few weeks ago, we have exchanged whilst on vacation and will complete four days after our return. No, I am not panicking. (Christ, where’s Whisky when you need it?) […]
The past few weeks have been oddly exhausting. Not because of what has happened; rather because of what could have happened. It’s all good news (or potentially none at all), but still, being kept in limbo for weeks, depending on a multitude of other people to make it happen (or not) has been wearing me […]
It’s bloody hard. There is no other way to put it, looking for an agent/publisher is one of the most painful and frustrating things I have put myself through so far. Because writing the novel has been fairly easy, I naively thought that getting it published would be too. HA!
‘No playdates, no sleepovers, no complaining about the lack of the aforementioned.’ Long before I got hold of her controversial book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Amy Chua had managed to create a rather authoritarian (if not malicious) image of herself inside my head. When the author of the contentious article Why Chinese Mothers […]
After bumblebees up your bum and ants in your pants (thanks, Iota!), we are now moving on to fishes on your feet. In case you have been lucky enough to stroll around Selfridges during Christmas time, you (most likely hot, flushed and staggering like a packhorse under the weight of your shopping) cannot have missed […]
They say the first cut is the deepest, and although I knew rejection would be very much part of the whole finding an agent palaver, I had no idea how I would stomach the words ‘thanks, but no thanks!’ Not very well, as it turned out.
I like mine small and cool, velvety soft like chocolate and refreshingly zesty like passionfruit. I like mine to tickle my senses, to make me lick my lips and crave for more, more, more. I like my snogs late at night in Covent Garden. Snog Covent Garden, 5 Garrick Street, Covent Garden, London WC2E 9AR
I love how, when I flip through the beauty section of a magazine, little L points at the models and shouts ecstatically ‘Mummy! Mateup! Issis mummy mateup!’ (read: ‘It’s mummy. It’s makeup. It’s mummy with makeup!’) However much I might be flattered though, the truth is an entirely different story. Trying to copy the ‘purple […]
Once upon a time, there was a prince, a very patient girl and a wedding date. The patient girl was said to have waited so long for her prince to pop the question, that once she had properly ball-and-chained the chap, she decided to let her hair down big time. As soon as the pressure […]