Beyond the Village...

Me, in my teen bedroom,
approx one mile from
my current home.

I currently live in the same area I spent most of my childhood. I've resided in a couple of other locations as an adult, but for fifteen years I've been back in the bosom of the village of my youth. And that's fine. Because of this, my gaff has become the unofficial family base since my parents absconded to Wales. That's also fine. Coming home for Christmas isn't something I've experienced since my student days anyway, and I quite like decorating my home for the festive season knowing people will see it. I moan (in jest!) about festive duties, but hosting family events or putting up my siblings when they come back to see old friends, is a privilege. I mean, spare rooms in this economy? I'm very lucky. 

Friends and family
not in my village

But the really cool part to all of this, is how my siblings have dispersed. Whether they settled in their Uni towns, moved for work, or live near their partner's family, I have a whole host of towns and cities that I get to visit. I'm currently sitting in a hotel room in London. I'm in a part that's close to where a friend of mine lives. Through visiting her over the years I've got to know this particular area well. Recently my brother moved down here, to another chunk of the city. I'm seeing him tomorrow so I get to learn about another place I've never visited. My parents have lived in their Welsh coastal pad for ten years. I now know that place reasonably well. I've got my favourite restaurant, my favourite place to get a cup of tea, and my favourite scenic route to get from the A55 to their flat. Imagine not knowing anyone who lives somewhere else? It would drive me bonkers. And yet, four years ago, weren't we all stuck in our homes? On our roads? In our villages? With only the people and places that we could see from our front doors? My nephew, born in the height of lockdown, turned four last week. That was my reminder to be grateful for now. Getting on a train? Staying in a hotel? Being somewhere else with other people? It's all so marvellous. 

Writing News

I'm trying to take time off. I decided that after the buzz of Leeza McAuliffe calmed down, I'd do nothing throughout June. That's not really panned out. I'm still writing blogs, and still looking at reviews, and still filling my head with Bookthreads and BookTok and Bookstagram. I don't think I ever truly switch off unless I'm on an actual holiday. Anyhoo. I'm recharging the battery, rewilding the landscape, replenishing the juices, and renourishing the soul. And yes, I know in that sentence, three examples would be optimum, but I just couldn't choose. All the metaphors are happening.

The new character, Ennui!

Culture

Inside Out 2 is brilliant. But you knew it would be, didn't you? Combining my favourite topics of psychology, sense of self, adolescence, and inventive storytelling, it tells the story of Riley through the varying emotions she carries inside. Joy, Sadness, Fear, Anger, and Disgust from the first film are now joined by Anxiety, Envy, Ennui, and Embarrassment. Complex emotional and psychological processes are depicted so simply, it's astonishing. Despite being a so-called kids' film, it's perfect for adults. You can never have too much emotionally literacy, am I right?

Love this sort of thing

Food and Drink

Through a series of recent events, I've been eating a lot of sandwiches. For Father's Day, I did a riff on an afternoon tea. (The riff was... no tiered platters!) That meant I was eating leftovers for days. And since my arrival at my Premier Inn, I've been mostly eating from the late night Tesco next door. You can't beat a post-pub egg butty. But all this means I'm excited about making my own meals again. Whilst I'm technically not Scandinavian nor have any reason to be celebrating Midsummer, I do like Scandi food. This picture, whilst being aesthetically pleasing, is getting me excited about summer meals. Tinned fish, rye bread, jammy eggs, and cucumber salad. Doesn't it look boss? I'm making my shopping list as we speak.

Out and About

Well London, obviously. Duh! By the time you read this, I'll have been to my brother's new gaff, I'll have met up with my mate from home, and I'll have seen another mate from Uni. Let's say it again... how marvellous to be able to move, visit, travel and connect, in places other than where you live. More please!

Have a lovely week, folks.

Big Event Summer is Here...

The Euros are here! It's a summer of sport! Get the beers and BBQs in for the lads! *sarcastic tone and obvious side-eye* 

I'm so very VERY happy for you, if a summer of sport floats your boat. And I admit, I will watch the England matches and cross my fingers that there'll be plenty more right up to the final. But the Olympics and Wimbledon? Nah, not my thing, ta. And that's a perfectly acceptable response. What I think is exciting, however, is the big event-ness of it all. Making an evening of a particular match (I used to watch in the pub, now I'll make dips!) or sectioning out a whole fortnight for your tennis fix. I get it. (It's how I roll during Eurovision.) But even if, like me, you're not that fussed about sport, we've got the ultimate big event coming up. The General Election. 

I'm assuming July 4th is in your diary too? At least for UK readers. This election is expected to be a BIG EVENT. Potentially as seismic as the one in 1997 - you know, the one where Labour swept to power. That was my first election. I was nineteen and living in Tory Northampton. Sally Keeble, the Labour candidate, had spread her campaign leaflets everywhere. They were all over my halls of residence and I can still picture them now. But what I most remember about that election is that I took it for granted. I didn't know that the feeling of hope on election night, was going to be a once-in-a-generation experience. This time, if the polls are to be believed, I might experience that again. If you're a fan of the Tory party, I imagine it's not going to be much fun. The 10pm exit poll on 12th December 2019 was a pretty low point for me, so I do get it. But as someone who's been wanting to sensibly and calmly see the back of the Tory government since 2010, and who's been wanting to vehemently, passionately, and with every fibre of my being, see the back of the Tory government since 2016, I'm going to consider July 4th a potentially big event. If you don't agree, then fair play. There's plenty of sport to see you through.

I do have a key. It isn't
just a pretty pattern.

Writing News

My new planner arrived. Hurrah and huzzah! I've now got a colour-coded schedule from mid-July 2024-June 2025. That takes me up to the middle of the editing process of the new book. Just typing that is terrifying. At the moment, I've got a few bullet points stuck on a cork board, so being mid-edit in a year's time feels ridiculous. But that's the plan. 

Despite this being my fifth book, I've never before planned so strict a schedule. I usually take my merry time when writing the first drafts. Even while I'm editing, I pay no attention to the days. It's only when I start the technical publishing stuff that I think about publication dates. Well, this time I'm going to try and be disciplined. I'm determined to be more efficient with my time. Now I've got my colour-coded planner, the world's my oyster.

Bel and Freddie - bezzie mates
AND responsible for the news.

Culture

Did you ever watch The Hour? It was a BBC drama back in 2011, set in the fifties and based around the team of a fictional nightly news programme. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Well I did. And apart from one mate that I remember chatting about it with at the time, no one else seemed to. This was a shame because it was BRILLIANT. Please note the capitalisation that denotes my strength of feeling. It was classy, intriguing, well written, and full of excellent characters getting up to all sorts of Cold War skullduggery. It was axed - inexplicably - after two series and I'm still cross about that. But never fear! It's just rocked up on Netflix. I'm one series down and loving reliving the shenanigans. Oh, and Anna Chancellor's character of Lix is my absolute style icon. I want to wear high-waited, wide legged trousers whilst chain-smoking in an office. Sigh. 

Food and Drink

Smushed sardines. The
taste of my childhood.

When I was a  kid, Sunday night teas kept the
same format, week in, week out. Cheese on toast cut into squares, and sardines on toast cut into triangles. These were piled up on to two large plates and placed in the middle of the kitchen table. Then an absolute free-for-all commenced. Seven kids being urged by two adults not to snatch as much as possible, but to eat one thing at a time. Lolz. It was dog-eat-dog and there were usually tears. Anyway, it must have been around 1996 that I last had sardines. It was a childhood staple and then something I've never bothered with since leaving home. Until now! Yep, it's that pesky Instagram's fault. A few weeks ago, I happened to linger over a timeline recipe involving a tin of sardines. The algorithm smelt blood. Ever since then, I've been bombarded with recipe after recipe involving the humble sardine. It was only a matter of time until I cracked. 

I started simple. Smushed sardines on toast. Always the ones in tomato sauce. After that, I started to get imaginative. Sardines stirred through pasta. Sardines smushed with anchovies and garlic. And then I made this...

My sardiney, beany,
tasty dish of loveliness.
Serves two.

In a frying pan, add...

• olive oil
• lemon juice
• capers
• pepper
• garlic
• anchovies
• tinned sardines (I use two)
• mini shrimp
• a can of cannellini beans

That's it. Heat it up, stir it through, and let the sardines break up a bit. All or none of the ingredients are changeable. I happen to love mini shrimp and put them in everything. You do you. You could add halved tomatoes, or herbs. Parsley would work beautifully. Or spinach. Make it your own. Then, and most importantly, eat with a big hunk of crusty bread. 

Clockface Country Park

Out and About

I don't want to sound like a wanker, but I'm really enjoying my daily walks. Setting my alarm an hour earlier, throwing on my scruffs, and driving to a park, is such a good start to the day. Even when I end up sitting for hours after that, at least I've had a bit of fresh air and a stretch first thing. Lordy, who even am I? Anyway, I've discovered another local gem. Clockface Country Park is a short drive away, and covers the surface of one of the many closed collieries round my way. If nothing else, my recent walking habit has made me explore some of the green bits on Google maps. 

Whatever big events you're planning to watch, cheer on, or stay up all night for, enjoy them! Communal viewing is loads of fun, regardless of whether it's someone competing in an obscure Olympic sport you've suddenly become obsessed with, or a particularly egregious MP losing their seat in the early hours of the morning. This is the stuff of life. Happy Big Event Summer, everyone!

Have a lovely week, folks.

Fancy Some Fan-Girling?..

Folks, I've done it again. I've fallen down a rabbit hole. Remember when I found myself immersed in the GDR? Were you there when I spent a morning looking at fully clothed but hugely erotic moments on film? Well, we've got another one. For the past few months I've become borderline obsessed with the actor, Andrew Scott. 

Now, let me be clear. I continue to behave legally and appropriately at all times. But over the course of my rabbit hole fall, a few things have become apparent. Firstly, should myself and Andrew (Andy? Scotty? AS?) ever meet, we'd get on well. We're a similar age and we've both got great eyes. What else is needed? The fact he always comes across well on promotional stuff (as do I - have you SEEN my TikToks?) only cements this. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, Andrew Scott's body of work is perfect. Either him or his agent have an eye for a truly special project. When I look down the list of my favourite movies or stories committed to film, Andrew Scott is often involved. Quite by accident, I've watched, or rewatched, loads of them recently. Let me share the wealth. 

Sherlock (2010)

This still feels like refreshingly modern storytelling all these years later, but Scott's Moriarty was TERRIFYING. He burst onto the screen, looked demonic, and genuinely scared the shit out of me. 'Who is this guy? This amazingly talented guy?' I probably said.

Fleabag (2019)

If you've watched it, you know. You know what an absolutely electric presence Scott was in his role as the Hot Priest. Portraying a priest as someone human, funny, normal, sexy, kind, and troubled, is quite a feat, and the Catholic church couldn't have had better PR. I don't think anything has made my insides ache more than this series.

Pride (2014)

Ten years since its release and Pride has become one of my top twenty all times greats. Scott plays Gethin, a welshman in 1980s London. Playing the owner of the gay bookshop where the film's activists meet, he's gets to give a more subtle performance, with vulnerability and nuance. When he returns to Wales after a long absence and confronts his past, he depicts the 'I'm finally back home' emotion with facial expressions alone. I don't think anything has made my insides ache more than... Oh. I sense a theme.

 

Ripley (2024)

Only out a couple of months ago, this performance was mesmeric. Taking the book and eking out every lingering look and movement into an eight-part series was a ballsy move. The casting of the titular character would have to be worthy of all that screen time. Never fear because Andrew Scott can do anything! Despite being a despicable character, you can't help root for him. To want that for someone that cheats, scams, and ultimately kills, is madness, but that's where we are. He has a conflicted, awful, beautiful face that (possibly) just wants love. Yep, you guessed it, it made my insides ache.

All of Us Strangers (2024)

Talking of insides aching. OMG. I urge every person in the whole wide world to watch this film. Out in January, it catapulted itself into my 'favourite film of all time' slot, kicking Before Sunrise into second place. This is a film about death. Except it's not. It's more than that. And it's sad. Except it's not. It's hopeful, with a huge focus on healing; healing after trauma and dealing positively with loss instead of being enveloped by it. It's also a film I found myself identifying with on levels I didn't really understand. But look, this isn't about me. It's about the greatest actor of my generation, Andrew Scott. His face, in this film, deserves ALL the awards. He conveys so many emotions in one look. His eyes, constantly on the brink of tears - whether they be happy or sad - are bottomless pools of feeling. Plotwise, it's a tricky one. His character manages to reconnect with his parents, who died when he was twelve. In five seconds, his expression can go from the twelve year old boy that's got Mum and Dad back, to the forty-something man that's lived with that loss for decades. It's a powerhouse of a performance. 

Hamlet (2018)
Ay, here's the rub. During a late-night YouTube search for Andrew Scott vids - I did explain that this was a rabbit hole, right? - I was reminded of my actual favourite role of his. Hamlet. Look, I'll level with you. I studied Hamlet for my English A Level. I've seen it performed multiple times, on stage and screen. There have been plenty of great Hamlets that I'd really enjoyed at the time but I'd got to the point where I didn't need to watch it again. I know what's going to happen and it's so very long. So, back to the story. I was late-night YouTubing and I found Andrew Scott's Hamlet, filmed at the Almeida in 2018. And right there in that moment, I knew I wasn't getting to bed any time soon. Scott brings more than a breath of fresh air to the role. He is a hurricane. He's speaking four-hundred year old words, that I've read and heard before, yet they trip off his tongue as if he just thought of them. I watched the whole of Hamlet that night. It was mesmeric. That particular production made sense of many debated aspects of the text (shout out to director Robert Icke ) and Scott's tormented, grieving, desperate Hamlet, is spectacular. 

Don't believe me? Well here's something else I found. This clip compares nine of the great Hamlet performances from the last eighty years. All giving you their 'To be or not to be' speech, it shows how differently Shakepeare's words can be delivered. It's fascinating, honestly. And if you're like the vast majority of the population and didn't study Hamlet for two years, let me give you the basics. Hamlet is at rock bottom and deciding whether or not to kill himself. On the one hand, he'd be free of pain, but on the other, he'd be stuck in eternity with whatever comes next - the great unknown. That's it, in a nutshell. And if you want to skip to Andrew Scott's bit, scroll to 23.50. Achy insides? Oooommmphhhh yes.

Sometimes when I'm thinking about what to write for this blog, I consciously choose something that might be entertaining or informative for others to read. And then there are times, like now, when I think screw that and write purely for myself. Reliving some of these performances and films has been such a lovely way to spend this morning. Thanks for indulging me. I do apologise for my fan-girling. But hey, you can look at this blog as a list of film recs the next time you're mindlessly searching. It's my gift to you.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Hope? Don't be Ridiculous...

For Baby Boomers the question is, 'Where were you when you heard Kennedy had been assassinated?' For us GenX/Xennials, it's Princess Di or 9/11. As of Thursday 30th May 2024, GenZ has its own generational moment. 

So, where were you when you heard Donald Trump had been convicted of thirty-four counts of falsifying business records? I was - as you might guess if you've read my previous blogs - scrolling on my phone, waiting to see if the jury were about to clock off for the day. But then... they rang the bell! They'd reached a verdict! There was an agonising half-hour wait while they filled in the paperwork, but it was over. When the thirty-four guilty verdicts were read out by Jake Tapper (other news anchors are also available) I was dizzy. Finally some accountability. For that guy? Wow. 

It's still not the end for the former president/convicted felon. There'll be sentencing, appeals, campaigning, and then his other court cases for his other alleged crimes. But look, this is pretty sweet. And whilst other parts of the world continue to burn with the disgraceful acts of people in charge, the fact that one of them has been held accountable for his crimes, is a cooling quench amidst the rage. The guy whose Muslim travel ban made me attend my first political protest, whose family separation policy saw me get on a train and march through London... that awful guy has been made to face the consequences of his actions. We should definitely remember where we were for that. 

Ngl, this was a really nice read.

Writing News

For the past week, I've had an insight into the life of a social media manager. Kinda. Staying on top of reviews as they come in, is hard! I've been sharing them on my Insta stories, screen-shotting them for Facebook, Threads, and Twitter, and trying not to forget to add the link to buy and encourage more reviews in the process. They're also ticking over on Amazon too. That's the main place to get them to build up. The book tour lasts another week, so I'll keep doing it until that's over. Then it'll be time to think about something else. In related news, I've just ordered an academic diary for 2024/25 so I can plan the next year of my writing life. Exciting!

Ewan McGregor as Renton. Iconic.

Culture
It was because they've remastered the film and cleaned up the original. Something like that, anyway. But last Tuesday my local Odeon showed the 1996 film, Trainspotting. I've seen it before, obvs. I've written about it before too, but it had been a while. As I rewatched Renton, Spud, Begbie, Sickboy, and Diane, I wallowed in the nineties-ness of it all. That soundtrack bangs. It could have been the soundtrack to my entire sixth form college experience. My Tudor History A' Level might as well have been scored by Underworld. Anyway, I felt eighteen again. Two nights later, I watched T2: Trainspotting - the sequel from 2017. Bam! I was back to the (almost) present day; feeling my age but glad of all the marvellousness that I'd experienced in between. Where did the time go? Thin air, that's where. Thank goodness I had some cracking fun along the way.

Anchovy straws...mmmmm

Food and Drink

Oh my. Let me tell you. This popped up on Insta and I immediately left the house to buy the ingredients. Anchovy straws! My anchovy habit is kept in check by my one-tin-a day consumption. That means I just add them to whatever I'm making at the time. But for these bad boys, the anchovies are the hero ingredient. Rolled out pastry, layered with anchovies, parmesan, and paprika. I also added some spinach leaves for a bit of health. Cut them into thin strips, and bake. What could be easier? I made a mountain of them, then ate far too many with a bottle of fizzy pink. Bestest evening ever.

Out and About

We're heading into festival season. And as much as I love watching Glasto on telly, my days of camping and standing for hours are over. Happily, that does not preclude me from the smaller, one-day-only fests. On Saturday, I was at the Rainford festival where I saw, amongst others, Boyzlife. Yes, the musical hybrid of Westlife and Boyzone were headlining the shebang. It was proper fun. Mates, beers, and choonz under a gazebo. Absolute larks.

Things feel good right now. Feedback for the book is giving me a spring in my step, and the carefree wind-down towards the summer holidays resists, no matter how long ago I left teaching. I'm sure doom and gloom will descend soon enough. But what with legal decisions in the US and the optimism of a change of UK government in the air, could this be... what's it called now?... it's been so long... could this be... hope? Nah, don't be daft. Let's not get carried away by silly talk. 

Have a lovely week, folks.