Vague Plans, Zero Resolutions...

Happy New year, gang!

And so it begins. Another year's upon us and a seasonal reset takes place. I used to hate this time of year. When I was a kid it meant back to school blues. When I was a teacher it meant back to school blues. Now, January brings a new start and renewed focus. No blues in sight. Marvellous.

 
So what's the focus for the year? Well in a slight tweak of format, this post won't be an update of the week just gone. We can all imagine what that would've entailed. Cheese, booze, bloating, and siblings. In that order. So this week, just for funsies, I'm going to use the usual subheadings, but to share what I hope to accomplish in 2023. Don't think of these as resolutions. Resolutions are totally stupid-dupid. Why set yourself up for an overwhelming sense of failure come mid-January? No one needs that shit. Instead, consider these as vague manifestations; my generally intended direction of travel. What's the focus for the year, you say? Well read on and see what I'm mostly aiming for. 

Writing 
I'm going to edit the hell out of the latest manuscript. That's what. I'd love for it to be published in October but it's more likely going to be Spring 2024. No matter. It'll keep me busy this year. After a decent break from looking at it constantly, I can't wait to dive back in. 

A decent depiction of the
inside of my head whenever
I think of May 13th.

Culture
I *may* have mentioned this before, but 2023 is the year Eurovision comes to Liverpool. Whether I manage to get tickets or not, I'll be involved. I'm clearing the diary for the week, getting the train into town every day, and treating it as a European city break. It'll be epic. I know Liverpool will rise to the occasion and I know it's a once in a life time experience. To have all the fun of the fair whilst sleeping in my own bed is not something I'm taking for granted. I'm looking forward to widening my appreciation of Ukrainian culture, feeling proud of my city, and getting swept up in the mad joy of the shebang. Bring. It. On. 

• Hollow out a bread roll
• Fill one side with roasties
• Fill one side with stuffing
• Slather on the cranberry
• Add dippy gravy
• Voila!

Food and Drink
There was a point on 23rd December when I had to make an emergency shop for Rennies, peppermint tea, and a ginger-based stirfry. Yep, pre-Christmas indigestion was a new phenomenon. Now I've mostly cleared the fridge of beige food, (check out my leftovers photo - it's the shiz!) it's time to reintroduce veggies into my life. I've batch-cooked a load of Stilton and broccoli soup. I'm going to do the same with veggie chilli. My recent Scottish jaunt has prompted me to keep the ingredients to Cullen Skink handy at all times, and I'm looking forward to making my annual veggie haggis in time for Burns night. Goodbye party food and fizzy wine. See you next time. 

I'm pretty sure I've sat
next to this kid before.

Out and About
I haven't left the country since 2019. Obvs the pandemic played a large part in this. Plus my utter mortification at the UK government behaving like the stupidest bully on the playground, running off with the ball, only for the ball to be replaced for the rest of the class, leaving the bully alone with a spare ball and no one to play with. (What's that? A waffly, laboured Brexit metaphor? Moi?) And if that wasn't enough, the perimenopausal rollercoaster of recent years, has meant I've simply not had the mental energy, nor inclination, to plan a holiday. But now it's all change. Literally. My HRT is kicking in and I'm back in the game! Woohoo. I'm ready to make a plan. What that exact plan will be, is unclear right now. But at some point this year, I'd quite like some new travel experiences. Just putting it out there for now. Thanks awfully. 

So all that's left to say is, 'Welcome to 2023!' I hope it's showing some promise. Can you work with it? Is it a team player? I do hope so. And if it's arrived with a chippy attitude and needs its edges knocking off, don't worry. It's nothing you haven't seen before. You'll be showing it who's boss in no time. You've got this. 

Have a lovely week, folks. 

An Eleven Month Ramble Round-Up...

It might be only twenty-four hours since the fridge became a leftovers storage facility, but blog-wise, we're moving on. Because this is the last post of the year. Twenty-twenty-two, where has it gone? Well, wonder no more. Here's a round up of the past twelve months, via the monthly long-winded Ramble I pop out between the weekly updates. I aim to publish it on the first Monday of every month. So don't look too closely or you'll notice I seem to have missed March. No matter. Just enjoy my Eleven-Month Ramble Round-Up of 2022. Happy New Year, everyone!

Brett Goldstein's podcast
all about death and movies
features this month.

In January I talked about death, my funeral plans, and Barry Cryer. It was way more cheery than I've just made it sound. Click here for more.

Come February, and the world was a scary place. In the face of the horrendous situation in Ukraine, I retreated into You Tube escapisms. Click here for more. 

The Lady Gaga/Liza Minnelli 
double act was one of many
memorable moments.

In April, the Oscars took place. There was one big news story the morning after, and it wasn't any of the ones it should have been. I tried to right that wrong, here. Click here for more.

In May, I wrote about a new podcast I'd found, that was taking me right back to my Uni days and the love I used to have for a literary debate. Why can't there be seminars in adult life too? Click here for more.

I wrote a whole blog
on euphoria without 
mentioning the definitive
meaning of the word.

June came around, and a random question by my brother saw me engage in my first psychological study since my degree. When did you last feel euphoria? When, goddammit? Click here for more.

July saw one of my more self-absorbed posts. No, really, it's worse than all the other self-absorbed ones, honest. I talked about the inspiration for each of my books so far, covering the specific TV programmes, authors, and stories that represented the vibes I was trying to create. Click here for more. 

By the time it was August, I was doing anything I could to distract from the heat. Remember that? When it was hotter than the surface of the sun? A random eBay session resulted in me receiving some old copies of Smash Hits through the post. I loved it so much I broke down the contents. Click here for more.

As the September term started, I was on a writing roll. The new school year always makes me feel refreshed and ready to work. As I was nearing the end of the first draft of my new novel, I wrote about the experience. Click here for more. 

By the time we hit October, I'd been dealing with peri-menopausal insomnia for eighteen months. The extra waking time forced me into rewatching the series Eldorado via You Tube. I loved it a lot, despite its obvious flaws regarding political correctness. Click here for more. 

November came with a revelation. I was well-used to Imposter Syndrome, but for a very small window, events had conspired to let me feel like I knew what I was doing. I wrote about it, as well as the importance of taking the time to spot those moments when they occur. Click here for more.

And then it was December. This, from three weeks ago, was about whether we can ever fully know anyone, including ourselves. That makes it sound way more deep than it was. Click here for more.

If you've gone back and reread all of that, then fair play to you. You deserve a prize. There isn't one, but you'd deserve it if there was. That only leaves for me to say, have a peaceful and/or raucous as frig New Year's Eve, have an excellent 2023, and, as always...

...have a lovely week, folks.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy and Stuff...

Christmas has arrived! Almost. This time next week, it'll be Boxing Day and all that entails. Lies-in and leftovers for many, an actual family Christmas dinner for me. It takes all sorts. Regardless of what next Monday brings, this Monday is the official Writer's Ramblings Christmas post. 

I do this every time. In a bid to avoid not blogging for one week of the year, I dig out an old photo of child-me at Christmas, I write some meaningful, festive sentiments, and I wish everyone a marvellous time. Well let's not fix what ain't broke. Strap in, hold tight, and let's go.

It's circa 1981. I'm wearing a dress and I have a bowl cut. Two things that Adult Me has successfully avoided, most days of her life. (Actually, my hair style from fourteen to the mid-twenties wasn't massively dissimilar. My face is weirdly over-exposed, there's a random balloon behind me, and I'm standing in front of the drinks cabinet part of the sideboard. Oh how I enjoyed being repulsed by the taste of bitter lemon that was kept with the gin at the time.

I only vaguely remember Christmas in this house. I had three of them before we moved and this'd be the last one. The thing is, I know I enjoyed them, but I can't remember the specifics. That's got to be a good thing, right? For anyone who's madly dashing about this week, trying to make everything perfect, it's worth remembering that it's vibes that last, not tiny details that you're currently stressing over. That's got to take the pressure off, surely? Christmasses tend to blur into each other. Especially if you're a kid. Smiles, laughter and jolly songs do a lot of heavy lifting. That's my theory, at least.

Meanwhile, for something lovely, give this a watch. From the Ghosts Christmas special a couple of years ago. Alison wants to sing carols but none of the family are into it. She sits at the piano alone, but then the ghosts join in! The ghosts that only she can see. It's lovely.  

Alternatively, and more secularly, here's Tim Minchin singing White Wine in the Sun. One of my long-time faves, this was recorded last year, and it's a right old emotional rollercoaster. Check it out and wallow in non-religious Christmas loveliness.

OK then. Let's cut to the chase. Next Sunday might not be a great day for you. If so, I hope it's bearable, over quickly, and normal service resumes ASAP. Also, you mightn't celebrate Christmas and are sick of hearing me bang on about it. If so, I hope you get some decent time off work, or at least enjoy good food and ramped up telly. Regardless of your stance, I'll be back next Monday, saying goodbye to 2022. Have a marvellous Sunday, but before that...

...have a lovely week, folks.

Ticking Time, Golden Oldies, and Breadstick Banter...

It's the 12th December! Yes, we're on the home strait. We've reached the 50th Monday of the year, the 346th day of 2022, and the 82nd day of Fall. (At least that's what this US website is telling me.)

Christmas Eve viewing!

With so little festive season, and indeed year left, I can only assume we're full whack into the Christmas Movie schedules. No more saccharine Netflix or Channel 5 cannon fodder, the big guns are coming out! Look, I can't lie. A weapon-based metaphor to describe something fun-filled and twinkly does seem a bit much. Please adjust the imagery in your head. But I have a valid point. It's time to go big. There's no point saving the likes of Elf, Home Alone, Miracle on 34th Street, or It's a Wonderful Life for much longer. Actually, strike that. Reverse it. It's a Wonderful Life is reserved for Christmas Eve alone. But it's time to embrace every other classic film. What are you waiting for? Stop putting off the inevitable and make yourself merry!

 

Writing News

I've definitely wound down for Christmas. I've gone into my Book 4 draft a few times over the past weeks, and I know what I need to do. I just haven't done it yet. My To Do List come January says things like, 'Beef up the Poppy thread', or 'Check Jake's story isn't too tropey.' Lots to do when the time comes. For now, my weekly writing consists of this blog and the witty insights I'm contributing to social media. Back soon, with a vengence. Defo.

I mean, she's a fully grown
woman being called a kid, but
I'll let that pass.

Culture

I've got a new Christmas film to add to the canon. Yep, Spirited is in cinemas and available through Apple TV. A song and dance spectacular, it's based on A Christmas Carol with Will Ferrell and Ryan Reynolds hamming it up brilliantly. Worth adding to your future festive viewing lists. Also, Helen Skelton doing Sally Bowles on Strictly will live forever in my heart. A perfect, F-You performance. I've mentally channelled it most days since. Finally, for its 80th anniversary showing, I watched Casablanca at the cinema.  I'd seen it before but only once, and it was stunning. A big screen ramps every film up to a million.  

Food and Drink

Not sure why in this weather, but I've been all over Spanish omelettes. With dashing about and squeezing in lots of quick teas, they've hit the spot and filled me up. I also made hot chocolate (Dairy Milk chunks melted into hot milk) served with a shot of brandy. Yeah, I know. Take it in. Delish! It was a Christmas miracle. 

It's Breadstick Man
Stick Man!

Out and About

For reasons that will become clear, I watched a live performance of Julia Donaldson's Stickman in Warwick Arts Centre, yesterday. It was a birthday present for my three year old niece and I went with her, and her ma. I've had a running joke with my niece - wait for it, it's piss-funny - that the story we saw was called Breadstick Man. I know! I'm hilarious! Sadly, my niece has found this wordplay more irritating than amusing. She just doesn't get me. After repeating the 'banter' regularly since her October birthday, I've now retired the joke.  But luckily, through its inclusion on this post, it will live forever in the Blogiverse. (That's a thing, right?)

So as we get through the 346th day of 2022, let's look forward to the 347th, the 348th, and all the rest to come. They'll be here whether we like them or not. Let's get onboard!

 

Have a lovely week, folks

Who Are Ya?...

24601 is also correct.

Who am I? I'm John Valjean! Yes, musical theatre fans will have involuntarily sung that opening aloud. But forget Les Miz's hapless bread thief. Who am I? Who are you? Who are any of us? And can we ever truly know? It's been on my mind recently. Not in a bad way. Just in a 'thought-process I keep pondering' way.  Recent events have come together to make me question the big stuff. 

First of all, what kicked it off? Well, some family stuff, that's what. My mum is about to reach a new milestone, age-wise. She'd probably like me to imply it's somewhere around the 40/50 mark than the actual age she's hitting this week. No matter. When we got together on Saturday to celebrate her vague new decade, we surprised her with a video montage of the people and places in her life. This was put together by myself and my six siblings - all people who'd say they know their Mum well. But as I'm sure any parent will appreciate, your kids only know what you tell them. Likewise, for non-parent humans, people only know the parts of your life you've chosen to share. If relatives of mine put together a 'This Is Your Life' video for me, it'd be the sanitised, user-friendly version of events that I'd opted to share with them over the years. A thoughtful tribute? Absolutely. Entertaining? Sure. Accurate? Probably not. Can anyone ever know the real you?

But forget other people, what about you? Can you adequately explain who you are to yourself? When I joined Mastodon last month, it became apparent that an introductory post was standard etiquette. A post that would say hello, mention topics and conversations of interest, and use hashtags to find members of any shared communities. I soon realised I struggled to identify who I was via hashtags. When I thought of who I enjoyed following on other social media, there were clear groups. LGBTQIA+ people, trans-inclusive feminists, lots of Eurovision accounts, writers, political pundits, and - randomly - a few people involved in the world of competitive quizzing. (There seems to be  an overlap between clever, funny people who like Eurovision, and quizzers.) Anyway, I typed out a post and said hello. But it wasn't great. Saying what I'm interested in doesn't explain who I am. Perhaps this is the pathetic lament of the straight, white, middle-classes? There's no need for solidarity in the face of systemic threat and discrimination, so the privilege that's taken for granted comes with a dull lack of specificity. And being an ally doesn't mean automatic inclusion into an othered community. My identity can't be defined by group hashtags that I'm supportive of and adjacent to, but not part of. It's standing beside, not standing amidst. Otherwise I'd be making it all about me. Something to think about, even if it doesn't answer my questions. 

An early Mastodon post.

Finally, in less convoluted thinking, I've started redrafting the next Leeza McAuliffe novel. In the current version (all subject to change) Leeza's on a mission. She's struggling to identify what she's good at and where her talents lie. She wonders how her family see her, and whether she agrees with them. It's no spoiler to say, this is a year long quest, that doesn't throw up easy answers. Clearly this is a theme in my head right now.

 
Can we ever be fully known to others? Who knows? Did we get me Ma's video right? Possibly not. What can followers on Mastodon expect from me? Ooh, I can answer that one. Gushy enthusiasm about TV and films, and lots of Eurovision when the time comes. Follow me for fun times!

So who am I and does it matter? Well yeah, I think so. Is there any rush to find out? Nah. Like Leeza, I think it'll be a long-term quest with no obvious answers. But it's fair to say, we're all more complex than a pithy social media post can convey. And perhaps trying to define someone through a video montage might miss out some of the nuance and contradiction of a person. In the end, I guess I'll stop trying to summarise myself via hashtags and crack on with experiencing more of real life and learning along the way. It's a plan, I guess.

Have a lovely week, folks. 

Tangible To Do Lists and Other Delights...

Kitchen wall of dreams...

Last week's Readers may need some closure. Ready? Here it is. I've still not put up my Christmas decs. It continues to be all quiet on the Christmas front round my way. At least I assume it is. I've not been there since Friday (more of that below) so I've no up-to-date data. Either way, my away-days in a city covered in lights, have kicked me up the arse. I'll be doing the tree as soon as I get back. That's my plan. Meanwhile in other seasonal news, I'm continuing to swerve the World Cup. I thought I'd miss it, but I don't. I'm sticking with Strictly, and I managed to ignore anything from the jungle. (Although Jill Scott won, which you wouldn't know from today's front pages.) My Christmas shopping's almost done and mostly wrapped, and I've made a tangible and user-friendly Festive To Do List. It's a bunch of Post Its, stuck on my kitchen wall, with a different Christmas task written on each one. The plan is to make it less overwhelming. Opening up a mofo of a list every time I want to check where I'm up to, can be a head-frig. And I've found it much more satisfying to rip off a Post It from the wall than score through a line of typing when a task's done. Just passing it on. #BondiesTips

My wares! Click here for 
all their marvellousness.

Writing News

First, a history lesson. This blog only began because the 'How To Market Yourself As A Writer' articles from around ten years ago, said it was essential. I'm not convinced it is. I mean, I like having a weekly deadline to write some published words, but I'm not sure it forces people to find me, discover my hidden depths, and rush straight to their choice of online book retailer to order my wares. (Obviously, if I'm wrong, here's a handy link for you. They make BRILLIANT Christmas presents.) But yeah, that was the plan. As you may well know, Subscribers get this email pinged into their inboxes at 11am every Monday. Then, after that, I post a link on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and as of recent weeks, Mastodon. That's my Monday morning routine. But now, since Twitter had it's meltdown, I've noticed a huge drop in blog views. The past three weeks have seen a clear difference. It's the same time period as the mass-exodus of Tweeters, along with technical upheavals that have gone on behind the scenes. It's made me realise how much Twitter was a driving force in directing traffic this way. So far, I've accepted it. There's nothing I can do. And I'm trying to up my Insta game which feels the most 'Buy My Stuff' social media out of the rest of them. But either way, it's an interesting development. For all the 'Lolz at the rich man wrecking Twitter' posts, there have been plenty of writers, creatives, and freelancers that have been adversely affected. Twitter was pretty useful once. Especially for writers trying to hustle.

Daniel Craig's beachwear is worth
the Netflix subscription alone.

Culture News 

I rewatched the murder mystery, Knives Out last weekend. It was my preamble for the second Knives Out movie that hit cinemas recently. For one week only. Glass Onion is actually released on Netflix at Christmas, but I managed to catch it during it's limited big screen outing. Twice. It was glorious. That's all I need to say. The two-hours and twenty-minutes flew and I can't wait to rewatch for a third time. In alternative Culture News, I binged The Horne Section TV Show on All4. Mad, daft, silly, and surreal are all decent adjectives. But mostly, funny. I laughed a lot. 

I never said I was a photographer!
 (I really wish I'd taken this without
 the almost empty side plate.
Ignore it please.)

Food And Drink

Lovely, lovely tapas. It never lets you down. And the best tapas is non-shared tapas. Thank you Brindisi for my chilled evening of garlicky wonderment. 

Out and About

The city with the lights that I mentioned at the top? That'll be London, baby! Yep, an enforced mini-break to work around the rail strikes. But extra time in London is never wasted. Oh no. I filled it with my second watch of Glass Onion - in one of Leicester Square's Odeons, like it was a premier. (Reader, it was not a premier.) I also lucked out by being given a free ticket to GOOD, with David Tennant. (He was on stage, not my date. Probably best. He'd never handle it.) The story of a 'good' professor in 1930s Germany, it charted one man's descent into fascism as he struggled to fight against the Nazi regime. David Tennant, his fellow actors, and the production as a whole, were powerful, chilling, and at the top of their game. I don't imagine it'll be leaving me any time soon.

By the time this hits your inbox or you've clicked the social media link, I'll be on my way home. Avanti, permitting. (Lolzzzzzz.) There's a tree to decorate, Post Its to rip off, and the best month of the year to gear up to. May all your To Do Lists be as satisfyingly tangible. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Timing, Genre, and Home-made Peppers...

It was all so easy in 2020. Not the year itself. That was a bin fire. From March through to December, the daily death toll and restrictions on normality were mentally exhausting. It was not a year that, should I be given the chance to revisit via the medium of time travel, I'd jump right back to. That honour would be reserved for 1985 (I loved Live Aid!) or 1995 (loads of snogging!) So, no, 2020 was not an easy year. But there was one aspect to that time that was shed-loads easier than now. I was clear on when to put up my Christmas decorations.

When 2020 hit, with all the grimness and disruption, I knew the appropriate time without a second's thought. The end of October. Bam. As soon as the clocks changed, I whacked on my Christmas lights.The twinkly glow gave me a regular lift any time I walked into the hall (FYI they're in the hall) or arrived back from a daily walk. It was, quite literally, a light in the darkness, and I didn't think twice about anyone else's thoughts on the matter. Now, I'm feeling the need for a regular lift all over again. Things are bleak out there. Every time I talk to anyone, the chat soon comes around to bills. Bills, heating, and rising prices. People are worried sick, and I'm not loving feeling as cold as I can handle before putting on the heating for half an hour. And I'm one of the lucky ones in that I can afford a daily half hour. I'm craving the twinkle of a fairy light more than ever, but it feels wrong. No one else in my neck of the woods has made the leap yet. People are being cautious. Whether it's down to the need to save leccy, or no one wanting to look flash in the face of a financial crisis, I'm not sure. But I'm primed. I'm ready. My lights are strung up and ready to go, as soon as it feels appropriate. And even though they'll use energy, I won't be putting any other lights on in the hall, so it should even out. I just wish I had the clarity that 2020 brought. They'd have been on for weeks by now, and I'd have felt marvellous for ages. Soon. Hopefully. Watch this space.

Writing News

One of my favourite authors of recent times - Lev AC Rosen - had a new book out that I've just finished, Lavender House. I devoured it, like I do all his stuff, but it made me think. In the past, he's written Young Adult LGBTQIA+ fiction but this time, Lavender House is a Queer murder mystery. I like it when authors switch things up and try different genres. I imagine, if your writing style is established (to yourself, I mean, not in terms of mega-sales) then it's an easy enough switch to make. Writing a story from start to finish is hard regardless, but trying a new genre needn't be a challenge. At least that's what I'm telling myself. So far, I've written contemporary adult fiction, and pre-teen novels. Now, for the first time in ten years, I don't know what I'll be writing after the current thing's finished. Oh don't worry. I'll work it out at some point, but I quite like feeling the world's my oyster. Maybe I could try a mystery. A modern day Agatha Christie, with a feminist slant or a northern setting? Or how about a romance? Or thriller? Or sci fi or fantasy? Nah. Nothing quite hits me like a mystery. That's my favourite genre from all of the above. Maybe that's the way I'll go next. Something to think about, anyway.

Series 4's Charles, 
played by Josh O'Connor.

Culture News

I've finished the latest series of The Crown. I don't know whether it's to do with being alive for the events of this one, or that the creative team has changed, but I found it dafter than usual. Nothing wrong with silly escapism, but I think we're all clued up that this is the soap-opera-ing of the royal family and not hard facts. I still enjoyed it, mind.

Food and Drink

The garden continues to throw out veg, willy nilly. This week there was a glut (about twenty, calm down, Nicky) of jalapeño peppers. As jalapeño poppers are my favourite party food ever, I had a bash at making them. Slit the pepper lengthways, scrape out the seeds, pack with Philadelphia, and coat in egg and breadcrumbs. I don't possess a deep fat fryer (can you imagine, I'd be frying EVERYTHING) so they were baked in the oven. Nowhere near as nice as the bought version, but perfectly acceptable and lovely with a beer.

Out and About

It's been a quiet one. A Wednesday brunch, a Thursday tea and a Friday drink notwithstanding, I've done nothing else. This time next week, I might have my Christmas lights on. I might have written some Christmas cards and I might have wrapped some presents. If I say it here, it might come true.

Have a lovely week, folks.