Weekly musings on all kinds of irrelevancies, with occasional book updates and a smattering of author insight. What's not to love? Subscribe and join the fun!
Enough with your shopping list, Art. I need to get on.
🎶Hello, Hayfever, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again...🎶 Stop it, Art Garfunkel, I'm sick of telling you to get out of my head and find somewhere else to live. All I want is... the sound of silence. 🎶Why you little...! Right then, enough about him, back to me. And there's an autobiography title if ever there was one. Not sure who thehim is that I've had enough of, as I centre myself in my own life as much as possible. Still. We live in a patriarchy so perhaps the 'him' is generic. I'm sure I'll iron out all those thoughts and more, before I write it. Meanwhile, hello fellow hay feverians. Hay feverists? Hay feveritans. Please know I feel your pain and from hereon in, will be counting down the days to September.
They really do, Reacher.
Writing News
Sometimes the creative process gets bogged down with technical details. I'm writing the diary of Leeza McAuliffe. That's twelve months of story. I know that the more pages it takes, the higher the cost to print and then buy. That means I need to keep an eye on the word count. I'm aiming for 5000 words a month/chapter. So far I'm well over, but it's the first draft so anything goes. The other non-creative detail I'm tracking is where I'm up to in the year. I finished planning the book in January 2022. I started writing it in February which meant Chapter one was January. I caught up with myself by March and before April 2022 had even started, I was beginning the April chapter. Then I got sidetracked with life for a few weeks, and the writing got behind the real life date again. It means nothing to anyone else, but on 19th April I wrote fourteen days worth of novel which caught me up to April 19th in the story. That felt pure and satisfying. Pleasure comes in all shapes and sizes, doesn't it?
Culture
The Lost City is the silliest nonsense I ever saw at the cinema and I loved it. And the blink-and-you'll-miss-it inclusion of a Mr. Brad Pitt sent this peri-menopausal woman's insides a-whirring. A-whirring, I tell you!
Food and Drink
I can't lie. There've been two Dominos meals in the last week. It's been a bit too busy to cook round here, and as Dominos is the only takeaway provider that can successfully find my address without multiple calls from a lost driver, its the safest bet. My current order of choice includes the vegan dipper nugget things and the cheesy bread roll doodahs. I believe the actual names of these items can be found on the menu. I'm also a grown up now and have stopped ordering enough pizza to feed fifteen people. It's a recent development but a significant one.
I will spend the rest of the day convincing myself that when I eat pizza, I looked better than this.
Out and About
Good news. My walking mojo has returned! What was once a daily occurrence back in the dark and distance early lockdown days, deserted me once life kicked in. It was the new series of Adam Buxton's podcast that dragged me off the sofa. An hour of chat between him and Marian Keyes was exactly what I needed to accompany me around the perimeter of Sefton Park.
So whether you're sniffling with allergies, fighting the ever-present COVID, or full of the joys of health and contentment...
Are we having fun? Is the Bank Holiday weekend all you dreamed of and more? Are you craving the absence of hourly chocolate from your life? Worry not, we're nearly there! As you scoff 'just one more' cream egg, let's turn our minds to non-chocolate issues for a moment.
The writing hiatus ends soon. Tomorrow, actually. I'll be back on track with the first draft of Leeza McAuliffe, Book 2 before you know it. I do know what the title's going to be, but it's way too soon to start bandying it around. However, knowing it at this early stage feels incredibly freeing. Usually, it's hanging over me. I'll be knee deep in edits and the end's in sight but I've still to come up with the name. Until I have a title, I can't commission a front cover and I can't crack on with a load of other jobs to do with the marketing and promotion of the thing. Maybe with a title early doors, it'll be a million times easier this go. Lolz. Who am I kidding? Still, it's a nice position to be in and I'm relishing it.
Julia Child
Culture
A long weekend means only one thing - great TV. Sky has given us Julia - an eight part series about the life of Julia Child. Sarah Lancashire is leading the cast and it's so much fun. Then there's The Thief, His Wife, and the Canoe on ITV. Part One was last night, and there are two more to go. That incredulous story from 2007, about the guy who faked his own death, has been reenacted again. It's as strange as its true and the first ep was a decent watch. What else? If you've the stomach, the House of Maxwell (BBC iPlayer) gave a forensic insight into the life of Robert Maxwell and his daughter Ghislaine. It was fascinating, compelling, and pretty grim in its detail. I've still to watch the Jimmy Savile doc on Netflix, despite everyone saying I should, mainly because I need to spread the bleak sex-offender docs between lighter fare. In related, but completely different vibe news, I listened to Jen Kirkman's stand up album, OK, Gen-X, on a long drive last week. Her take down of Louis CK and her riffs on women having to navigate the pervs in the world, was very funny, and supremely satisfying. I laughed a lot, driving over the Pennines, at midnight, as the sky outside tried to snow. Now that was bleak in a whole other way.
The funniest gravy boat in all the land, you say? Why, this one, of course.
Food and Drink
Last week I went for a Sunday roast at my local pub. The veggie option was a non-specific 'vegan wellington' but I was mainly there for the roasties so I ordered it with the lowest of expectations. Reader, it was amazing. An individual pastry dome encasing a mushy mash of nuts, onions, carrots, sage, and stuffing-type stuff. I fear my description has not done it justice - I can see why the menu kept it vague - but it was glorious. Smothered with gravy and served with the aforementioned roasties, parnisps and veg, I was a fan. I've yet to recreate it at home, but I reckon if I whack a pastry top over a box of Paxo, some extra onions and grated carrot, I won't be far off.
Out and About
I've gone nowhere! Although, randomly, with the slight lift in temperatures yesterday, I reverted to the lockdown weekend nights of the recent past. The fire pit, a picky bits tea, and the outdoor blankets and cushions to comfy up the garden chairs. For a change, it was nice. How soon I've forgotten, that's all there was for a couple of years.
Here's hoping all our jeans still fasten and we can successfully wean ourselves off absentmindedly pushing chocolate into our mouths at every opportunity. It's an aim of sorts.
Morning, and I hope you're enjoying the run up to Easter/the long weekend/the coldest of all the bank holidays - insert your own description of choice. As I get older, I try to rein in any instinctive urges I have to judge others. If no one's getting hurt, it's my job to curtail my mental commentary on the supposed rights and wrongs of other people's decisions. I realise, however, I'm in full judgy cow mode when I see kids eating Easter eggs before Easter. What happened to delayed gratification? Surely they need to be taught some things are worth the wait? If you eat Easter eggs before Easter, they're just sickly chocolate orbs - make it make sense! That being said, I found myself hoovering up a bag of dark chocolate Dime eggs in the week, and they were exquisite.
Writing News
It's a funny old week, writing wise. I've done frig all. This tends to be the problem when real life gets in the way. It was same during the first lockdown. My head was so filled with the uncertainty of the world, I found it hard to sink into my imagination and make up stuff that other people were doing. It's not lockdown this time, but the business I'm involved with. It's all systems go with solicitors and paperwork and deadlines that keep moving. With that going on in the background, Leeza McAuliffe and her latest family shenanigans have been pushed out of the picture. Not for long, though. It should be sorted soon and my writing head will come back with a vengeance.
Culture
I got a cracking book for my birthday. Agatha Christie's Poirot: The Greatest Detective in the World by Mark Aldridge. If you're even a slight fan of the detective, this book's a fab read. I'm doing it cover to cover but it's a handy dip-in-able reference guide to all the stories he appears in. Basically, well good. Then, in extremely last minute plans, I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch in Leeds on Friday night. It was glorious and I'm still thinking about it every single minute. It comes to Manchester in a couple of weeks and I imagine I'll be booking again.
Food and Drink
Let me rave about a new cook book I've got - Sabrina Ghayour's Bazaar. It's fabulous. When I first flicked through, I realised I'd be happy to eat almost every single recipe. (Not the sweetcorn one and not the one that was predominantly peas. But everything else looked delish.) I made a start last weekend with my halloumi and carrot balls, and pistachio and pomegranate studded goats cheese. Look at me being fancy! Then later in the week I had my first McPlant. Also fit.
My halloumi balls!
Out and About
What with the busyness of the business, I keep having to drop things off at post offices and post boxes before last pick up. That feels like my overriding memory of the week. In other admin-related trips, I've done a couple of airport runs to Manchester - one at 3.15am! - for my brother's work jolly. From what he says, it was definitely better dropping off than having to queue for hours, so that's a win. Sort of. (It would have been more of a win if he'd got a taxi). And then I went to Aintree Costa in the week, completely forgetting it was the races, and people-watched the chauffeurs, police, and security guards getting their coffees. Fun times.
Let's hope the weather is exactly how you want it to be - I'm all for a stiff breeze and a bright sky in lieu of my much loved but errant snow - and your days are filled with whatever you'd like. Fun? Friends? Family rows because everyone's at home and sick of each other? Once again, insert your own description of choice.
I watched the Oscars live. Ish. I was on an hour's delay, which meant avoiding social media spoilers. When the incident happened, I relied on the feelings from my gut, rather than other people's thoughts on Twitter.
First I assumed it was a joke. Then I felt a brief panic when it was clear it wasn't. And then, once the guest host finished his patter (albeit, shook) I watched Best Documentary be won by Summer of Soul and I forgot about it.
Yeah, I really did. The incident that everyone banged on about when they woke hours later? It left my head. And for the record, no, I don't condone violence and I think you can joke about anything as long as it's funny (the second part of that sentence being important). But after the initial unpleasantness, I just wanted to see the rest of the awards.
Predictably, there were A LOT OF OPINIONS when I woke at 11am. I accepted them from those who'd watched it live like me. But I held no truck for anyone waking after a good night's sleep and sharing their outrage before they'd had breakfast. Because they missed so much good stuff. There were many lovely moments that didn't get their deserved coverage in the immediate aftermath of the 94th Academy Awards. So let's do something about that, shall we.
Kenneth Branagh Won An Oscar
I'll be clear from the start. I've loved this man since I was a teen. He made Shakespeare accessible and signposted me towards my ideal lover - someone who can chat Hamlet over wine. That'll form the basis of my Tinder profile should I ever feel the need. After being nominated in all sorts of categories for all sorts of films, he finally won for Best Original Screenplay and I whooped from my bed. Supremely satisfying and long overdue.
Sweet Gesture at the Handover
Last year's best supporting actress, Youn Yuh-jung was there to present Best Supporting Actor, as is standard. She commented that she hoped she'd pronounce the names of the nominees correctly, before opening the card. Then, when it came to the winner, she only went and signed his name! This, for those unclear, was useful as Troy Kotsur is deaf, and only the second deaf actor to win an Academy Award. Look, it's not really good enough until the whole thing is signed throughout, obvs. But as a sweet gesture from one actor to another, it was pretty cool.
Politics Are Never Far Away
The big question beforehand was whether Ukraine would be mentioned during the show. There was even a discussion on Sky News about the likelihood of Zelenskyy being included in the ceremony. In the end, it was down to a few individual references from award winners, as well as a minute's silence as we were encouraged to reflect. But that wasn't where politics ended. The hosts Wanda Sykes, Regina Hall, and Amy Schumer enthusiastically told us it was going to be a gay night (just as Florida has passed the Don't Say Gay legislation) and Jessica Chastain made an impassioned plea for love and acceptance for the LGBT community. I like it when people are given a platform and they use it positively.
It's fab when allies like Jessica Chastain use their platform for good. But it's even better when LGBTQIA+ people get the platform themselves. Ariana DeBose won Best Supporting Actor for her role as Anita in West Side Story, and throughly deserved it. With the original Anita, Rita Moreno, watching from the audience, she talked about being an openly queer woman of colour and finding her strength in life through art. It was a lovely moment.
A Decidedly Perky In Memoriam
Sky were having technical difficulties so the In Memoriam feature burst onto my screen mid-flow after a brief moment's outage. And burst it did. Forget your solemn notes and your sepia tones. This was upbeat! As the pictures of the recently dead scrolled across the screen, a gospel choir gave it large out front. Every so often the music would quiet and someone would speak about a name on the screen. Bill Murray was talking about Ivan Reitman when Sky rejoined the programme. A moment later, the magnificent Jamie Lee Curtis eulogised the equally magnificent Betty White whilst holding a puppy. It was batshit and glorious. Later, on Twitter, it seemed the change in tone had split opinion. For me, when I die, I'd be well happy with that level of demented joy.
2 Out of 94 Ain't Bad Is Piss Poor
I'd been a bit cold towards Jane Campion because of some silly things she's said recently. But blimey, it's still such a crazily rare achievement that women are nominated, let alone win Best Director Oscars, that it still filled me with pride that she did. She's now the second woman in ninety-four years to win, which is ridiculous. Especially as everyone knows the real best director working today is Greta Gerwig. Isn't the world a mess of systemic barriers and injustice? We should probably do something about that at some point.
Best Picture is CODA!
I'm still to see CODA but it won't be long before I do. What I did take from this win, however, is that signing should happen for every major broadcast of anything. It's more of that systemic inequality, innit. If the Oscars don't make this as standard after this year, they're proper silly billies. Genuinely, it's the most basic of lessons they can take forward. (Along with ditching the easy-access cabaret tables, and seating everyone in the safety of theatre rows once more.) It's always a thrill to see a version of yourself being brilliant and lauded. CODA looks fab and I'm happy it won. But I'm also happy that for deaf kids, there's a bit more mainstream representation.
Haven't I banged on for ages? This is what happens when people ignore the cool stuff and focus on a moment of madness. I'm going to wrap it up now. But it's a shame I've not had a chance to mention Lady Gaga and Liza Minelli being the best onstage duo ever. Or Wanda Sykes and Regina Hall passing on Kim Kardashian's advice to Judi Dench after she didn't win Best Supporting Actress. Work harder. Or how fab it was to see Elliot Page talk about his pre-transition film, Juno. Or seeing classic film cast reunions. Or James Acaster being front and centre of the ten second clip they showed of Cinderella. Or Amy Schumer's joke when she came back after 'the incident' and asked if she's missed something. It was a great night. Possibly not for approximately three people in the building, but for everyone else there was so much to enjoy. Let's remember the enjoyable stuff too.
Morning, morning, morning. Life's short, no day but today, carpe diem... yes I've had a birthday. But it's still true. No one's getting any younger so we must crack on. Time is ticking, tempus fugit, and on we march!
Writing News
Here's a PSA for writers. It's something you only know until someone tells you, so I'm doing my bit and passing it on. Register with ALCS. (Authors' Licensing and Collecting Society.) That's it. That's the tweet. If you've ever published a novel, a text book, poetry, scripts, any writing of any description, then register today. Because up to twice a year, for reasons I still don't understand, you might receive money. I know. Free money! Who'd have thought? According to their website, it's money that's owed to you for secondary uses of your work. I cannot fathom any secondary uses for my silly little stories, but for the last three years, I've been paid for them. Like magic. Last week, I received the latest payment; the biggest so far. Presumably because my back catalogue has continued to grow. So that's the writing news. Register with ALCS. It's a nice reminder that typing words in an interesting order can sometimes reward you financially.
Give or take the odd word (Staubwedel!) I got all the gist. (It's feather duster, btw.)
Culture
Stop Press. I've completed 235 days of German Duolingo. It's an odd dichotomy. On the one hand, doing five minutes of German every day, in a format that provides a repeat button, a slower button, and the option to hover over an unknown word to check its meaning, can't possibly give a true German speaking experience. But on the other, I'm getting more sentences correct every day, the last week has seen my first 100% scores - which felt massive, and I successfully translated most of a newspaper report about a Chris Bryant article from the Guardian. That's progress, baby! So with my confident linguistic prowess, I decided to watch Queer Eye Germanyon Netflix. Look, if you like Queer Eye it's more of the same, so that's marvellous. But blimey, do they speak fast! This is my problem moving forward. Translating a written report in formal, newspaper language was achievable. Understanding speedy, modern German spoken by cool people, with all the colloquialisms and slang that entails, isn't what Duolingo's prepped me for. I'll press on with Queer Eye Germany because it's great. But I shall cling to the subtitles with my life.
In other news, I watched Is It Cake? on Netflix which is as batshit and joyous as the name suggests.
Where to begin. Frig the diet, if there ever was one, is one way to open proceedings. Turning forty-four seemed the perfect time for a chippy tea. So that's what I had. I made Nigella's Basque Cheesecake for my official birthday cake, as well as her Guinness and Chocolate cake for a household birthday the day before. I did mention March is all go round here. A Friday night meal to Mowgli on Bold Street and then a family meal in a local pub, rounded off the weekend. Thank goodness I don't have kids or I'd have had to eat all sorts of celebratory shit yesterday as well. Shout out to all you muthas out there.
Taking awkward selfies alone, knowing Monday's blog would demand them.
Out and About
A non-lockdown birthday was lovely, but until the day before, I'd forgotten to make day plans. Everyone was at work, but the thought of staying in and pottering around the house felt like a waste. I'd done enough of that in the previous years. In the end, I picked up my favourite novel (that I hadn't reread in a while), chose a pub that sold my favourite lager (hello Camden Hells!) and bagsied the comfy sofa in the alcove. As a way to pass a few hours, it was an utter joy.
Right then. Enough self-indulgence. It's time to get the year back on track. I've got a rough draft to finish, a sensible eating and drinking routine to rediscover, and the start of a Eurovision season to embrace. It never stops, does it.
Roll up, roll up, welcome to the week. No, please, you're welcome to it. LOLZ. Got any plans? Taking advantage of the slight rise in temperatures? Still in winter mode and bingeing box sets under a blanket? Look, you do you. There are no lofty expectations here. Take your time, have a minute, keep it real. No one likes a show off.
From my website. Gender ambiguity as well as a high last initial. Win!
Writing News
When I published my first book, Carry the Beautiful, I spent approximately six seconds deciding on the name for the cover. It was my work, I was proud of it, so my real name should be used. Easy. For other's, it's not so simple. Nor would it be for me in their position. If I were writing sexually explicit erotica - and who's to say I'm not in my spare time - I'd probably choose a different name. For the anonymity as well as the sexy-sounding-ness of the author. If I were a non-fiction writer, commenting on weighty and important topics, I might go with the OG, Nicola. It always sounds serious to me, being used solely by teachers who didn't know me, and in NHS waiting rooms. But I digress. On Thursday I was listening to the Oh God What Nowpodcast, with guest Jonathan Freedland. He's got a non-fiction book coming out under his own name, but has previously written a string of thrillers under Sam Bourne. His choice of pen name was deliberate. He said...
'First, you always want to have a surname in between A and F in the alphabet... (a) high, eye-level book in the bookshop... but also if you can have a gender ambiguous first name, that's always good.'
So despite me giving it zero thought at the time, my gender ambiguous Nicky coupled with my A-F initialed Bond, ticks all sorts of boxes in Author World. So that's nice.
Culture
There's been no cinema trip this week, due to The Batman taking over the world and the screens. Booooo. But I've watched some decent TV instead. The Ipcress Fileon ITV is nicely filling the Sunday night drama slot. I've never seen the original so I've no clue what's happening, but I like it that way. The Witchfinder on BBC1 (all episodes available on iPlayer) is also excellent. Daisy May Cooper continues to be one of the people on my 'Want To Get Pissed With' list so watching her be brilliant for six episodes was a good use of my time. Then there's Get Back. Yes, I know everyone talked about this months ago. I've finally got round to starting the Beatles documentary on Disney +. I wasn't sure it my thing, what with me not being an obsessive Beatles fan, just someone who likes some of the songs, type thing. But then it started and it was brilliant. So yes, I'm jumping on the Get Back bandwagon. It was fully immersive and like being in the room as they created their art. I've only seen the first part so far, but I'm very much onboard for the entire shebang.
This is not the small ramekin I'd assumed it would be.
Food and Drink
I took my niece and neph out for tea last week. When it came to pudding and they cracked on with the kids' menu ice cream, I chose a Black Forest Chocolate Pot from the Adults' section. I assumed I knew what it would be. A small ramekin of chocolatey cherry stuff, yeah? No. Let me break it down for you. A dinner plate arrived, containing a scoop of berry sorbet, a scoop of whipped cream, a white-chocolate pot filled with chocolate mouse, several chunks of chocolate brownies, a scattering of blueberries, a carpet of biscuit crumbs, and edible flowers strewn about. It was bat shit. I think I laughed as it was placed in front of me. On the one hand, it was a creative work of genius that I hadn't expected from the family pub I was in. On the other, I'd not wanted pudding in the first place but was just joining in with the kids. Life really can surprise you.
Out and About
An inadvertent diary clash meant I went for drinks with an old mate on St. Patrick's night. In the end, both events were able to coexist peacefully without issue. In fact, the pub band that opened with a Crowded House song was a nice nod to our sixth form days in the nineties, so all was well.
Next week, it's all kicking off with birthdays, nights out, and meals all over the show. Hopefully your own weeks are as busy or quiet as you would want them to be.
This year's running away from us. Right? It's broken free of its reins and galloped off into the sunset. I'm currently enjoying my third period of 2022 but it was Christmas five minutes ago. Ridiculous. If nothing else, that casual mention of my menstrual cycle should sharpen minds and stiffen resolve. Don't forget to stop and smell the flowers. Or something. Look, I would NEVER smell flowers. Not with my sensitive nasal passages. But whatever's your equivalent of taking stock and having a minute, best do that now and then, yeah? It'll be Michaelmas before we know it!
An artist's impression of my week.
Writing News
Good news! (For me. You crack on as you were.) Last week's pulling teeth feeling finally drifted away, and tippy tappy typing has commenced at full whack. It's no great secret to suggest that perseverance is the key. Who knew? Everyone! But different writers have different methods. Sometimes going for a walk and having a break is what's needed to shift a mental block. Other times - and this is what worked last week - refusing to move from my desk until I'd written anything, forced me to push out some sentences. There are only so many crosswords, wordles, Sporcle quizzes, and tweets before you're bored stiff of putting off the inevitable. Open up the WIP, and crack on. Maybe next time a brisk walk will help. This time, I had to force the issue. Horses for courses, blah, blah, blah. Either way, the writing's back on track once more.
Culture
It's a right mixed bag this week. First of all, here's the UK's 2022 Eurovision entry. I won't lie, I'm a big fan. Of course we've got to get beyond everyone's low expectation, and of course we've got to contend with the lacklustre efforts we usually put into the production of the thing, but... but... but? I'm hopeful. I'm hopeful the jury votes will recognise Space Man as a decent effort and their votes will shift us off last place.
In further European entertainment news, I've been watching the Ukrainian sitcom, Servant of the People. Yep, the one from 2015 where Volodymyr Zelenskyy plays a History teacher suddenly elected President of Ukraine. Apart from the hugely surreal nature of watching the now real President play the role, it's pretty good, clunky subtitles aside. Will I watch all three seasons? Possibly not. But next time I want something funny for half an hour, I'll happily dip back in. As humorous as it is, however, watching it in 2022 comes with a big fat side order of pathos.
And finally in Culture news, I've completed my Big Screen Godfather Trilogy experience. Don't hate me, but I really like the third film. Yeah, I know. Controversial.
The original. The home made attempt was not snapped for posterity.
Food and Drink
After a meal at The Cosy Club in Liverpool, I did my utmost to replicate their mushroom, leek, and vintage cheddar tart. I, 100%, did not do it justice, but as the old saying goes, any mushroom, leek, and vintage cheddar tart is better than no mushroom, leek and vintage cheddar tart.
Out and About
Every year, March is the busiest month in my calendar. Without exception. This year's no different, and feels crazier than normal. Maybe because - and I know I've mentioned this before - my last two birthdays were in lockdown. So now it seems I'll be able to celebrate the ageing process, I've gone big. When the big FOUR FOUR* hits in a couple of weeks, I've got multiple plans locked in. Right now, however, I'm conserving energy. I can't gad about as energetically as I could. Not without a bit of hibernation first. But once that's done, watch out world!
