Due to a series of happy occurrences, last week I found myself boarding a plane to Amsterdam. Again. This much-loved city is a real favourite of mine; perhaps on a par with Berlin and London (obviously) in terms of its ‘vibe’. Not a fan of the word ‘vibe’, but there …
I seem to be at least a fortnight behind with my recent blogging. All I can say is that unprecedented distractions (in a variety of guises – work, play and otherwise) have resulted in minimal writing time.
To preface this belated follow-up to my Boyd post: I did of course promise to offer my thoughts on Ordinary Thunderstorms about a month ago, but I’m both forgetful and busy, for which I make no apologies. I’ve just finished a trio of books that all happen to be set …
When I found myself defending my reasons yet again for my admittedly odd obsession with Piers Morgan yesterday, I figured it was time to put my feelings ‘out there’ (and by ‘there’ I mean the blogosphere).
Discovering a new author is like that moment of realising that someone who you thought was just an acquaintance might actually become a huge part of your life: you’ve got more in common than you previously thought. You rebuke yourself with the obvious question: “Why didn’t I see it before?”
Proud Galleries is one of the most unique venues in London.
The first time I saw the trailer below, I felt ever so slightly sick. A film? About Facebook? Called The Social Network? Really?
When I was about fourteen, I grew about six inches in the same amount of months. I towered above my classmates, had cavewoman hair (it was way before GHDs revolutionised my life), and thought I looked like the Honey Monster.