Saturday 23 August 2014


It is the August Bank holiday weekend, and there are berries on the trees and a feel of autumn in the air - together with that word sitting a week away on the calendar:  


I rather love this time of year. I like the feel of new beginnings, of exciting things that might just happen, of possibilities. It reminds me - even after so many years - of getting things in order, of buying new stationery, of starting a brand new unblemished exercise book,

By chance, I am staring at a clean blank page today: a page of yellow paper. This is the A4 book I will be used for my "three pages a day" writing exercise, an activity taken from Julia Cameron's famous if cult-ish "The Artist's Way" approach.

Mildly taken, the practice does help me: somehow it skims the top layer of everyday worries and frets from my writing head and I start to get a clearer picture of what I should be doing. 

But just how picky can you get? I stare at that new page but I am already slightly disgruntled. Why? My last three yellow page notebooks came from Paperchase a few months back. Writing in them was a comfortable pleasure. The paper was just the right feel under the hand - slightly rough so the pen never seemed slippery - and just thick enough so that my beloved green ink did not seep through. Yes, I write my three pages with a fountain pen.

However, this new notebook - also bought from Paperchase, but with another logo - is not quite as nice. The paper is thin and very slightly shiny. The pages don't feel satisfying and I'm thinking they may not stand up to being written on both sides. I'm even wondering if by now the shop might have restocked with better book stock.

I'm also wondering if I should rename this blog "The Pedant on the Page" . . .
But, hey, can't stay here all day. Other things to do: house stuff, various and tech-y things to battle: see below. Although I might be tempted to finish reading THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE.

It's an adult crime novel that's an interesting blend of "I Capture the Castle" as told by an engagingly vindictive young Marple. 

Or a chemistry-obsessed Harriet Vane? Flavia de Luce, the eleven year old heroine is a cunning piece of work and all the better for it. 

Finally, sorry, yes, apologies and all that. I know this blog has been quiet for a long time, even after all my last time promises. 

I dropped into a not-very-good writing place for a while, blah, blah, blah, ignore this . . . but I also got very cross when all the blogs I love and thought I'd linked to did not - somehow - connect here. 

My own Penny Dolan blogging was meant to be an easy way of reading all sort of interesting other blogs and something blooming well did not work! Grrrr! Will I let that defeat me? Ha! Only for a six months or so . . .

But I'm back here now so all I can say, quoting A.L.Kennedy,  is ONWARD!