All Aboard the Emotional Roller Coaster...

I know my own mind and I like what I like. 

Deep burgundy!

Those words could be etched onto my gravestone.  My life-choices - particularly in terms of how I present myself - are clear and simple. Take the tiny example of nail varnish. It's a no-brainer. It has to be black. Black goes with everything, looks a bit edgy, and perfectly suits my short square nails. Easy peasy. Except! Over recent months, I've been swayed. I'm currently sporting a dark green. Before Christmas, I wore a succession of deep burgundies. I once tried a navy blue. What was a clear cut uniform taking up no additional thought, has been muddied by options. COLOURFUL options.

Or how about this? For decades, my knickers have been identical. Yep, we're going there! The exact same style, from Marks and Spencers, and always, ALWAYS black. Last night, whilst looking to refresh my underwear collection, I found myself clicking on midnight blue. MIDNIGHT BLUE. What is going on?

The dog carries off this dress
way better than I could.

Is this another symptom of the perimenopause? With all the hormonal fluctuation, should I expect to throw out all my established norms? Along with hot flushes, insomnia, and the ever-increasing urge to piss, should I brace myself for an overhaul in my personal tastes? I need to keep an eye on this. It's unnerving. What's next? Pastel talons? Pink trainers? A frilly dress??? Lordy!

They say a change is as good as a rest, but this isn't restful. This is anarchic! My inner world is all over the place. What I knew to be true, in the tiniest of ways, suddenly feels like less firm footing. Change isn't restful, it's energising!

Writing News

Meanwhile, I'm on a roll. Not to be smug but there are plenty of times when I'm anything but, so I need to shout from the rooftops when my productivity level explodes. I now have a formatted template. The spacing is good. The trickier parts (images of notebook pages inserted within the text) look fine. The final fiddly details are yet to be tackled but I'm close. Let me enjoy my smug satisfaction while it's here. We all know it won't last.

Hamnet. Image from here.

Culture

On paper, the film Hamnet and the TV show Heated Rivalry don't have much in common. The story of Agnes and William Shakespeare's loss of their child, and the sexy exploits of queer ice hockey players, might seem worlds apart, but hear me out. They both began life in book form. Both stories explore the human experience and drag viewers onto the emotional roller coaster that is taking the risk to love. Both stories made me feel ALIVE. 

Heated Rivalry, episode 5.

Seriously, the energy that coursed through my veins after Hamnet's cathartic ending wasn't hugely dissimilar from the final scene of Heated Rivalry's episode five. How wonderful it is to exist in the world when stories like this can be devoured. How fab to feel such a rush. That energy, of course, is magic. It propels the creative endeavours of those that experience it. It can't be a coincidence I've been on a writing roll this week. Here's to the continuation of the buzz of life!

It's not pretty but it's fit!
Hummus topped with lentils,
maple carrots, cavolo nero, 
green beans, and chill and 
honey mushrooms. Plus
pitta!

Food and Drink

Georgie Mullen's book What to Cook and When to Cook It continues to inspire. Over the past couple of weeks, there's one meal I've made repeatedly - a winter hummus bowl. Whilst not being an exact recipe in the book, I've merged a few of her suggestions together to make foody magic. 

First, whip up a batch of fresh hummus - her basic recipe can be found here. Spoon and smother it over the base of a bowl. Now choose your toppings. Whatever veg you need to use up, get creative. Maple roasted carrots? Sure. Soy and sesame oil griddled green beans? Why not? Crispy cavolo nero? Of course! Just make sure everything's tasty. Now you can add some protein. Marinated salmon chunks? Puy lentils? Crispy tofu? Use any and all of the flavours you like; the world and this bowl is your oyster. I've made multiple versions of this meal recently and it hasn't got old. 

Just me, taking up space, 
barely drinking.

Out and About

Soon my hibernation will be over and I'll be actively seeking reasons to be out in the world. Right now, I'm still sneaking out for bursts of activity before scurrying back to cosy warm. This week, those bursts of activity involved two mega writing seshes in Costa. As much as I like to support indie businesses, I'm much comfier nursing a large tea over an entire morning inside a well-established chain. I also booked train tickets for a London jaunt in a couple of months, and flights for a holiday later in the year. It didn't involve leaving the couch but the promise of the outdoors and future adventure was there.

I need to keep on with this writing roll. I need to continue to nurture myself through the winter whilst feeling emotionally and creatively energised via cultural excellence and exciting future plans. I need to ride the emotionally energetic roller coaster that I'm on and use it to my advantage. That's a plan, right?

Have a lovely week, folks.

Let's Have a Think...

Every day since I deleted my Twitter account, I'm reminded it was a good decision. 

The recent news about Grok and its 'abilities' is truly grim. Having no Twitter/X means I easily avoid Grok so that's excellent. However, that's not the same for AI in general. I still have to scroll past the generalised AI summary after every Google search. I still have to delete the inadequate AI suggestion in any ALT text box, and I still have to continue to scan for the tell tale signs of robotic authorship - is it too general, bland, and pointless? It's a pain.

What IS easy, however, is to avoid ChatGPT. In fact, 'avoid' is too active a verb. That implies I make swerves and detours to ensure our paths never cross. The opposite is true. I've never used it so I've no idea how to find it. If I want to role-play chat with a soulless object, it's as easy to talk to my coffee table. Chat GPT can remain unbothered* by my queries. 

That doesn't stop me worrying, though. Worrying about how quickly society has shifted to outsourcing its critical thinking skills by using it. (Watching large swathes of an electorate/the media support a clear wrongun shows the importance of accessing accurate info and trusting the people that report it.) It's a skill to discern whether the information we're presented with is valid. 

If I've got a headache and I Google 'headaches,' I'm scanning the list of hits and looking for reputable sites. Getting info from the NHS website, for example, and not Geoff's Headache Tips and Tricks blog, is a good idea. When we ask generative AI for the same info, who knows where it's coming from? It's coming from everywhere! That means a bit of Geoff's blog as well as the more reputable sites. No ta.

My other issue with ChatGPT and its ilk, is that its responses are based on the vibes you're putting out. Like the algorithmic world in which we live, when you search for a particular product online (Heated Rivalry merch for me right now) you're inundated with every version of that product when you subsequently log on. Generative AI does the same. It bats back what you offer. It quietens the ideas of others. It means you're kept in your bubble, hearing no dissenting opinions or alternative options.

Me, sans ChatGPT

My brother says I'm old. He says this is the issue that'll leave me behind when the rest of the world has moved on. I'll live with that - I AM old. I don't fancy trying to prove otherwise by doing things that fill my gut with deep unease. My 'stance' against using generative AI is less a stance and more an unwillingness to feel icky, and stupid. I may be in the minority. A sibling convo at Christmas showed I was in the minority within my own family. Even my next door neighbour asked me if was going to use AI to write my future books. (That'd be a no! They wouldn't be my books! They wouldn't be written!) It's all very concerning. 

The good news is, there's an antidote. Yep! There really is. As the world burns, there's an easy peasy way of retaining our humanity. There's an easy peasy way of flexing the muscles we need to continue to discern truth and integrity, and relate to each other in all our messy, dissenting, beauty. It's simple. It's reading. 

Little old me, getting
lost in a story.

For some people, reading is an activity from school they've not bothered with since. This is a terrible indictment on our formal education system, by the way. To discourage a love of books is NOT the point of education. Stories are for everyone, at any time, and in any format. The ability to be lost in another world is so much more than a requirement for school. This is one of life's greatest joys. It's irrelevant whether you study literature to PhD level, or if you've not thought about a simile since Y11; stories are not solely an academic pursuit. 

Ian Dunt put it best. In his New Years Resolutions post, he reminded us of the importance of daily fiction reading...

'Fiction is unlike all other art forms, because it grants us intimate access to someone’s internal life. Only literature turns you into someone else. Only literature lets you recognise that other people think in ways we cannot normally imagine. To read a good book is to experience a temporary escape from the self. It grants access to the widest possible range of human feeling.'

The power of storytelling is not only that it stretches and develops the brain; it comforts it too. It's a safe space to explore tricky thoughts. We can make sense of the world or specific relationships in our own lives, by watching them played out in fiction. Our problems can be tackled because we've seen them tackled on the page. Our insecurities can be minimised because they've been represented and overcome in a story. Reading should be a prescribed antidote to the horrors on the news. It should be taught in schools! Oh, right... 

Maybe it's with this in mind that 2026 has been designated the National Year of Reading. Perhaps The National Literacy Trust has realised that keeping young minds on track can be aided by the power of human-written stories. Fair play! An excellent idea! But before we start going all 'certificates for most books read in ten minutes', we should remember that reading isn't a timed activity. Nor is it a competition. If it takes two days or the whole year to read a book, it's still an excellent use of your time. Booktokers and Bookstagrammers can seem hugely impressive by the volume of books they consume, but there are no rules. Having something on the go for whenever you've got a minute, is just as valid as reading an entire library. Speed reading is probably a useful skill but let's not forget to enjoy the process. That's the point, surely?

I'm always charmed by the Icelandic tradition of Jólabókaflóð. I've no idea of the realities of it. Is it an old timey custom that's eshewed by modern types, or if it's as truly magical as I imagine? Either way, the image of every household gifting books on Christmas Eve, to be read communally throughout the night, feels wonderful. Picture it... armchairs by the fire, blankets over knees, twinkling lights amidst the dark skies and the icy cold climate. Can you see the flickering candle on the window sill? Can you hear the quiet chuckles as someone reads an amusing line? Or what about the stifled sobs at a particularly moving paragraph? There's steaming cocoa on the hob that's filling the house with a seasonal aroma. Can't you just smell it? Can't you just picture it? Don't you just love it? Those visuals come from my imagination and that's because I've read widely since I was a kid. My imagination provides me with all sorts of lovely stuff. Christmas Eve in Iceland - why not? I'm so lucky. Except it's not luck. It's cultivation and development. It's reading. 

Haven't I banged on! To summarise this ramblier than usual Ramble, I was trying to find the exact reading quote I half remembered. Director John Waters once said something about ditching a date if they didn't read. I've done a quick Google and found the quote. It's...

'If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them.'

He's direct! I like it. Sure, in this day and age people might have a Kindle, or listen to audiobooks on a device. Perhaps the lack of a book shelf isn't as clear cut as it once was. But there's more. In the search for that quote, I employed my critical thinking skills. I didn't just take the first site listed. I checked out a few. Apparently it's a quote with a wider context. It seems Waters said...

'We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them. Don’t let them explore you until they’ve explored the secret universes of books. Don’t let them connect with you until they’ve walked between the lines on the pages. Books are cool, if you have to withhold yourself from someone for a bit in order for them to realize this then do so.'

There's even more than that. It's from this website, which states it's 'what John Waters really said'  But they add that someone called AV Flox said that they didn't know if he did write it but that they 'like this version better.' 

This is not good enough people! When I want to know if my half remembered quote is accurate. I don't want to be fed it as though it might not be but who cares. That's the problem with AI. I might as well ask ChatGPT. Can we all just get back to thinking? Let's make thinking cool again! If we can't be arsed to do that, at the very least, let's pick up a book. It's fun!

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Remaining unbothered is something humans have the ability to do. What we're talking about here is not human. It's a technology that scrapes old info and presents it as fresh. It's designed to mirror the cues the person accessing it, has given. Let's not anthropomorphise it and pretend it can choose to be unbothered.

Mind the Weather...

Last week, round my way, it snowed. No matter how many mindfulness Apps I download, or how many times I remind myself to be present in the moment, it only ever happens for real when it snows. I can spend an entire evening looking out of the window being delighted by what I see. I can go for a walk and relish every single step as my feet crunch on the ground. I can stop, breathe, and look around at the world. Snow is magic!

The view from
my window

Sadly, the snow was a 24-hour event - in my Merseyside home, anyway. The trick now is to take those snowy, mindful experiences, and transfer them to every other kind of weather. Can I be delighted by a dull sky and a stiff breeze? That's my challenge for 2026.

Writing News

There was a point on Christmas night, when my niece decided to make notebooks for everyone to play a drawing game. I was reminded of that when I sat at my desk on Monday. It was the first time I'd been there since mid-December and the Christmas night carnage was evident. Paper, pens, and staples all over the show. I moved things around a bit, tried not to get sidetracked into tidying, then took my laptop back to the sofa to work from there. It's important not to do too much in January.

The Night Manger

Culture

I could fill this section with Traitors chat alone, but I won't. Most people are obsessed like me so I'd only be preaching to the converted. Instead, have you watched The Night Manager? It's good but I've not felt the need to binge. One episode a night has been perfectly pleasant. (That sound damning, but I don't mean it to be. It IS good.) I do like these undercover crime dramas that we're being fed these days. Slow Horses winning all the awards has been marvellous for the genre. In other news, I watched Song Sung Blue at the cinema last night. It's a nice film, but I ballsed up. Going into the film thinking it's a Neil Diamond biopic completely threw me for the first fifteen minutes. I was utterly confused. For everyone else's benefit, it's not. Don't be baffled like I was.

 

Satay sauce and
bits to dunk 

Food and Drink

Here, have a website recommendation - Georgie Eats. It's become my actual bible. That's because I got Georgie Mullen's cookbook for Christmas and it's revitalised everything I've cooked since. Mushroom and lentil hotpot, nasi goreng, satay sauce and five-spice roasted dipping carrots!* There's loads of ideas and I've buzzed off making new stuff. Last week I talked about craving spicy veg? This week, it's ALL I've eaten. 

Out and About

I don't mean to actively hibernate but that's the way every January tends to go. I love leaning into the cosy gloom - so restorative! Despite these brooding vibes, I have left the house. I went to Asda, I met friends for brunch, and I spent Christmas vouchers in Sephora which meant a schlepp into town. That was quite enough outside world for one week and I happily scurried back to my fireside chair.

I hope the January gloom is working for you. I know for many people it doesn't. Can you find solace in a slower pace? In a cosy book? In a new recipe? Whatever gets you through needs utilising I reckon. Spring is mere weeks away. Keep on keeping on!

Have a lovely week, folks. 

*The five-spice roasted carrots were my idea. I had carrots to use up and I was inspired by a recipe from the book that used five-spice coated cauliflower. That's what I love about a good recipe book. They get your own ideas flowing and give your creative juices an energetic boost.

Resolutions, schmezolutions...

'Should auld acquaintance be forgot...' blares out as I metaphorically cross arms and link with strangers around me. Yes, let that mental imagery flood your brain as we embark on the first blog of 2026. Happy New Year, baby!

Resolutions, schmezolutions. That's what I say! No thanks to the idea of unattainable goals that'll get forgotten in a week and are only designed to make me feel like a failure. Instead, as in recent years, I'm going to ponder some gentle aims. Ones that can bubble along in the background while I crack on with life. For ease, I'll use the usual update headings just to keep things tidy. Ready? Excellent. Let's dive in.

The third in the series 
is incoming.

Writing News

This year, barring severe injury or worse, my next Leeza McAuliffe book will be published. Woooohooo! The date is still to be confirmed but it'll be the first half of the year. (Hopefully sooner.) Once again, the process is mind-blowing to me. The fact that eighteen months ago, that very book hadn't been dreamt of, is too much to fathom. How does it get here? How can it be? If I think about it too long, I'm overwhelmed and have to lie down. As for the rest of 2026, that'll be spent thinking up and beginning the next book. At the moment, that feels fantastical so I won't dwell. My brain tells me that I've done it before so it'll be more than manageable when the time comes, but my gut thinks that's crazy. Hey ho.

Culture

As I type, I've got several TV series that I'm waiting to devour. The new fiver-parter, Amadeus on Sky, Cemetery Road on Apple, and Red Eye series two - all waiting for me. But then the new Traitors has started. That's going to fill all my brain space for weeks. Plus, the Masked Singer's going to enliven my Saturday nights for the foreseeable. So much excellent telly and I look forward to filling the year with it.

In 2025, I read thirteen books. That's way less than I averaged in the years before social media, but a sensible amount considering I was writing my own words most of the time. In 2026 I want to read more. I got two books for Christmas - Georgie Mullen's What To Cook and When to Cook It, and Ella Risbridger's In Love With Love. Despite their non-fiction status, I look forward to curling up with them. More please. More excellent books that take me away from all this.

The first meal of 2026 - Kedgeree.
Technically still quite beige
but the chilli sauce helped.

Food and Drink

It's always the same in January but I'm ready for change. It makes sense after the festive season - there's been a lot of beige. Lovely beige to be fair, but the fridge has seen cheese, crackers, cheese and crackers, party food, crisps, and bread. Now I want spice! I want veg! Spicy veg and veggie spice! I look forward to diversifying my repertoire, or at the very least, not settling for a crisp butty for a while.

The first fresh air of 2026.
Blundellsands, Crosby. It was blowy!

Out and About

2024 was the year I walked. Five days a week, rain or shine, and with an unbroken streak on my walking app. 2025 was the year all that went to shit. It wasn't my fault. Not really. This week last year, our sewage treatment plant started to be installed, and thus began months of back garden digging and renovating. The need to be around early doors to brew up and unlock the shed meant my morning walks went to pot. This year, I'm giving it another go. I'm not planning to be as regimented as I was two years ago. That ship's sailed. Instead, I'll simply try to move every day; whether that's an intentional walk, a supermarket shop, or by being a busy bee at home. No minimum step counts, no app streaks to maintain, just a vague plan and good intentions.

I'll repeat myself: resolutions, schmezolutions! Don't go setting yourself up for failure by trying to change things beyond your control. Instead, 'gentle aims', 'vague plans', and 'nice things to think about' are a much more sensible way to go about things. In related news, I'm keeping my white fairy lights on until the end of the month. In these grim times for the world, I deserve some twinkly lights in my life. We have to look after ourselves. That's as good a 'vague aim' as I can think of. Happy 2026 everybody.

Have a lovely week, folks.