Showing posts from 2019


“If you wrote something for which someone sent you a check, if you cashed the check and it didn't bounce, and if you then paid the light bill with the money, I consider you talented.” Stephen King, On Writing Stephen King wrote that.

On my good days, I remember that Stephen King - Stephen mofo-ing King, a man with both an amazing body of work and an absurdly cute dog - apparently considers me talented. I’m not going to be using my income from writing to buy a solid gold pony, or even a solid gold hamster, but I have made it into five figures. That was over three years, mind; not exactly a lucrative career but enough to keep me in beer and boots.

On my bad days, I remind myself that those three years were over six years ago and that my cumulative work since having children are four dull and forgettable pieces for business publications and a few blog posts where the amount of swearing considerably outweighs any interesting content.

I have written many other things. Birthday cards. E…

Fail to Kale

I am the youngest child in my family. By the time I was old enough to cook my Mum was past the “let us bake together, angel children, never mind the mess” stage and into “get out, get out, are you trying to get burnt”. So I haven't really been taught to cook food basics. This can be an issue when I am faced with standard foods that I don’t care about enough to learn how to cook. I do a mean butter chicken, for example, because butter chicken is delicious but fail every time at making vegetable soup because, ugh, vegetable soup tastes like used socks.

These days I have family of my own to feed - four people and a dog! - so obviously there's only one solution; exploring the wonderful worlds of malnutrition and massive credit card debt simultaneously by ordering takeaway all the time! Hah, but seriously no (as my partner says to me ALL THE DAMN TIME). Most nights I try to put together a home-cooked meal to give the impression that we are a functional family unit and not a near-ri…