I’ve been living in a double bind for quite an extended period of time and I’m only just admitting it to myself. Whilst languishing in denial, I’ve tried all kinds of mental and emotional gymnastics to work myself around the trap, but I think I’m going to have to concede that I can’t move forward… Read More »Throttle
I’ve been writing fairly in depth profiles for all the characters in my novel lately, because while most of them have been in development for over a decade, I’d never been especially deliberate about them, and I thought it’d be a good exercise to catch any gaps. Also it’s kind of fun. One of the… Read More »Deep and dark
When I sold my old Golf to a breaker for fifty quid, we met at a junction in the middle of nowhere, and he drove it away illegally through the narrow Welsh backroads. It all felt terribly sudden. I got a message half an hour later saying ‘I have no idea why but I absolutely… Read More »Rust bucket
I’ve been writing a story since I was sixteen. It started out as one thing and evolved into many other things. The world unfolded itself to me; the characters revealed their intentions; their actions shocked, disappointed and delighted me. The story has taken up space in me this whole time, existed within me, in some… Read More »The call
There is a part of me – a significant, and close to the surface part – that enjoys a good bit of pain. A part of me inclined toward overexertion, obsession, and prodding open wounds. Most of the time, if you give me pain, you’ll see me smirk with a glint in my eye. Go… Read More »Give me more
Lately, I have been waking up in the middle of the night, because my brain has decided that that is a good time to worry about all the things I’ve said and done the previous day, and how I shouldn’t have said or done them, or should have said and done them differently. That’s not… Read More »Lay me down
As soon as I typed the phrase “I have a tendency to hyperfixate on people“, a voice in my head said you’re gonna have to write about Polaris again now. While my parasocial celebrity fixations are largely wholesome and harmless, my real-life fixations have most often been of the variety that could be labelled toxic.… Read More »I hope I’m feeling brazen
Recently, I talked about misplaced sympathy. But, actually, I think I have a bit of a problem with even arguably well-placed sympathy. Sympathy, to me, is a crutch for people incapable of empathy. There is a world of difference between “aw, poor dear” and “there, but for the grace of God, go I”. Sympathy is… Read More »Sympathy
I like to talk about my problems. To give voice to them. To allow them to exist. To own them. To be honest about them. It lets me feel free. It reminds me that I expand far beyond the bounds of my problems. I use this as a place to talk about my problems quite… Read More »A problem shared
I am the type of person who physically recoils from the idea of you reading my diary. But I’m also the type of person who forgets to put her diary away and instead leaves it open on the table when visitors come round. I’m the type of person who walks along the street and blurts… Read More »Exposure