I hate questions that ask you about favourite things. Mostly because I can never pick just one favourite, and partly because something that is my favourite at one point in my life may not be my favourite at a different point in my life. For example, bacon. As a kid I hated bacon, could not … More #13. Your Favourite Book
The one phone call I hope I never receive is one telling me that something has happened top my brother. That he’s died. I’ve been there before. I got a phone call telling me my Dad was in ICU, that he’d had another stroke, and that I should probably get home as soon as possible, … More #11. The Most Troubling Phone Call You Hope You Never Receive
Tuesday’s suck. I mean they really suck. Who the fuck invented Tuesdays? They’re the worst day of the week. I have double biology with Mr Jones, the science teacher from hell. Plus, that class is full of stupid boys that think they’re the shit. Ugh. They’re so annoying. Then this whole “split lunch” shit means … More #9. Write A Single Paragraph That Conveys A Lot About A Character’s Life. Think About How This Can Be Achieved With Voice And Rhythm And Repetition.
I’ve written things for as long as I can remember. As a child I would often write fictional stories set in alternate universes of my own creation. It was my very own form of escapism. I would pretend that I was these characters, living out a fantastical life and having the best adventures. When I … More #7. Why Do You Write?
The most expensive thing that I own isn’t something that I’ve bought myself. It was given to me as a gift, and it’s a necklace with my father’s ashes in it. In fact, I think all the expensive things that I own are things that were given to me as a gift. Partly because I … More #6. What’s the Most Expensive Thing You Own? What Was It Like to Buy It?
I had never expected that I would grow up to be a pirate. I was born the daughter of a captain in the Merchant Navy and spent most of my childhood exploring the coastline around my home. I constantly drove my mother to despair with my scraped knees, muddy face, and a fierce refusal to … More #5. Life Among the Pirates
The room is quiet now, still, peaceful. It’s not silent, there are the familiar sounds of the night. The hooting of the owl in the apple tree outside the window, the occasional rush of traffic from the road on the other side of the house, the familiar snoring from the room next door. Today was … More #4. What Your Desk Thinks About at Night
Comfort is curling up in your favourite spot on the sofa with a warm drink when it’s rainy and cold outside. Comfort is the familiar embrace of your own bed after a long day. Comfort is getting lost in your favourite book, the one with the dog-eared pages and the well-worn spine. Or getting lost … More #3. Comfort
My father drove many cars, and motorbikes, throughout his life. But the one I remember most distinctly, or at least the most fondly, was the car he had when I was very young. It’s the first car I remember us having. It was a baby blue Land Rover Defender with a white roof. It was … More #2: The Car Your Father Drove
Writers block feels as if all the words that you want to write are blocky and clunky, like they are foreign inside your head. Like all the sentences you want to write won’t flow, instead it’s like trying to draw blood from a stone. Every word that you try to write feels forced, wrong, broken. … More #1: What Does Writers Block Feel Like?