A Pleasing Lack of Disrespectful Shagging...

Breaking News: The heating is officially on. It was hit and miss at first - the odd cheeky hour here and occasional blast of warmth there - but it's now on for real. Hello Winter. We can see you trying to hide. Do you think we're daft or something? Of course this works out beautifully for me. Like an elegant swan gliding through the water, I come into my own in the wintery weather. (The swan imagery may be misleading. Apologies. I'm far less graceful and tend not to scrap for bread by a lake. Not these days, anyway.) But I'm definitely my best self at this time of year. Everything else can slide seamlessly along with me. Speaking of which...

All reviews GRATEFULLY 
received. A sentence is enough.

Writing news

The Assembling the Wingpeople book tour ends soon and it's been two weeks of utter loveliness across the Internet. Every day I've read reviews from people all over the place. Posting on social media, Goodreads or Amazon, they've been fab at sharing the book with their followers. Definitely worth looking at Love Book Tours if you're marketing your own books. A massive Thank You to non-book tour reviewers too. I'm so grateful you've taken the time to help me out and share your opinions. Reviews are what makes indie-publishing seem to work, so I'm indebted to you all.

In reading news, I finally got around to the Christmas Murder Game by Alexandra Benedict, which was completely gripping once I got going. Sort of spookily creepy rather than full of saccharine Christmas joy. Definitely one for puzzle-crackers. Then as I was in a seasonal mood, I moved on to Christmas at the Island Hotel by Jenny Colgan. Cosy warmth in a book (or Kindle.) It's nice to read freely now my own book stuff is calmer. 

If Bond films were fully feminist,
the female co-star would be over fifty.

Culture

I did it. Even though I said I wouldn't. I only went and watched No Time To Die, didn't I. As someone who isn't a fan of the Bond franchise, no one is more surprised than me. It dawned on me that my much-loved weekly cinema visit would struggle if I insisted on avoiding it. So many screens for just one film! So little choice other than things I've already seen! I gave in to the power of Big Cinema and went. Full disclaimer: the first time I saw it - yes, the second time was last week! - was the day after my book came out and I was WIRED. I hadn't slept for weeks, I was mad busy, and I hadn't stopped looking at my laptop for about thirty-six hours straight. I think my intention was to let the almost three-hour running time wash over me as I tuned out the world and had a kip. That's where my head was when I went in. When I came out? I was a convert. A convert to that specific Bond film, anyway. Lots of fun, lots of spectacle, lots of feels, and lots of locations. What's not to like? It also felt non-sexist (I'm not sure it's fully feminist but there's a pleasing lack of disrespectful shagging) so that was a win for me. I can't see I'm going to work my way through the back catalogue any time soon but when No Time To Die pops up in the Christmas Radio Times in a couple of years, I'll circle it with gusto.

Erm... okaaaaay?

Food and Drink

A few days ago I had a sudden urge to eat scones. I'm not even sure I like scones, and cream can certainly do one. But the heart wants what it randomly wants. I searched for a few recipes online and decided Mary Berry's looked the simplest. Besides, I had all the ingredients in the cupboard.* So that's what I did. Piece of piss baking - low effort, high reward. Warm scones with butter and cherry jam turned out to be exactly what I'd been craving. Hurrah for me. Besides all that, I've been running down the food in the freezer before Christmas stuff takes the space. So there's been a lot of label-less tubs of batch-cooked portions. There was definitely a black bean daal in the mix somewhere which was nice, but other tubs have been less decipherable. Anyway, that's about it on the food front. Nothing too exciting. Nothing worth reporting. Except for the scones.

A dramatic reconstruction
of the past weekend.

Out and About

It's been another bumper week for being at not-home. This weekend has seen a family caravan extravaganza to Wales. One of the mini-breaks that Spring 2020's lockdown postponed. It had been hanging on for ages but we finally managed to cash in the vouchers and rebook it for the weekend. I can't lie, there's a definite temperature drop on an October caravan holiday compared to the originally planned May date. But what's that phrase again? There's no bad weather, just bad clothes? I fully embraced the challenge. With a holdall filled with as many layers as I once packed for a Canadian December, I braved the chills and had a ball. Thirteen people, three caravans, and one rainy Welsh holiday park. LIVING THE FRIGGING DREAM.

More updates, opinions, and insights next week. If you can even stand it.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*The optional sultanas were given the widest of berths, and I added a tablespoon of vanilla extract because why wouldn't I. It tasted fit. You're welcome.