Tag Archives: Writing

A place to write

Daphne du Maurier was five when she first discovered Cornwall. That summer, she had watched as the gardener caught a snake in the grass of her Hampstead home. He nailed it to a tree, standing back to watch it writhe. … Continue reading

Posted in History, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

The story of a room

Don’t believe anything you see. This is what the curator says as I enter the Whistler Room at Mottisfont Abbey – a line he repeats as more people come and go. I can hear the pleasure in his voice as … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, History | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Does anyone else feel guilty when they see a police car?

When I was seven, I told my mother I wanted a willy. It looked so much easier for my brother. On family walks, having to squat down in the grass, I would often pee all over myself, or down the back … Continue reading

Posted in Essay, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Moments that change us

Something happened last week, which made me refer back to the diary I kept when Dan and I were living in Denmark, WA. It was the end of February, 2011. Dan’s mum was staying. I wrote that I was going … Continue reading

Posted in History, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Things that make us stand out

When John first sees Ruta Meilutyte swim, he thinks her breaststroke tidy enough for her to be one of the best swimmers in the world one day. She is a rangy, blond-haired twelve-year old, but there is something in the … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Two Trees Entwined

Henry’s sons are rebelling in France. It is the year 1173, which began on a Monday and will see fighting from Scotland to Brittany. The land will watch man tearing himself to pieces, destroying much of what has been built. … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, History | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Not all those who wander are lost

‘Are you writing a novel?’ I turn to the table next to me where two young men are sitting – one in a grey suit, the other in a crumpled shirt, jacket slung over the back of his chair. It’s … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, History, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , | 15 Comments