As I mentioned in my post last week, I’ve been feeling for a while that I’ve lost the skill of writing – writing this blog, primarily – and I wanted to get it back, and in doing so started to realise that it is actually my belief in myself that I’ve lost, not the skill of writing. I think going a while without writing makes you feel like you’re out of the game, you’re away from the conversation and trending topics, even if you don’t concentrate on trending topics. And with fast-moving tech and social media, you kind of are, trend-joiner or not; social media is an intriguing mix of being literally left behind and forgotten if you don’t post and noticeably missing for the same. And certainly my podcast is behind.

But, yes, it’s more my motivation and muse that is lacking. Certainly writing constantly makes you feel current and that is both due to the aforementioned social media and regardless of it – you fall behind if you’re not aware of the trending topic but, equally, if your own ideas and thoughts are not being produced by writing and consuming other people’s writing (that second one’s so important) you kind of fall behind your own self. You create a sort of content gap within yourself, weeks or months between your last and new piece of writing or indeed other content, and you lose your progress. I’d go so far as to say that I’ve fore-fitted a few years of progress in the skill of writing as it concerns my own specific interests, particularly as it took years for me to reach a place where I felt competent in writing about literature.

And – forgive the unorthodox paragraph break – I think that becomes harder to bridge the more often you had been publishing your work – an author can go years without writing and come back like they never left whereas do I notice when my favourite TikTok channel has missed a few days? Yes, yes I do. (Yes, I know part of that is social media algorithms and the push to post more and more for higher numbers and arguably to create money for the company you’re essentially creating for.)

I know that getting back your motivation, when the drive is there but you feel stuck, depends on just doing it, forcing it if you have to. I did that last week and then I let myself retreat into a couple of easy long-templated posts while I took in the fact that I’d broken my silence. And now I’m back here a week later writing a little more properly, even if not on the most interesting subject. And having done that, I’ve better topics in the works because a small piece of me now believes in myself again.

I’m going to keep trying; I posted three days a week consistently for so long and have gone through the worry of being all out of ideas enough to know that while things get harder, there’s always something waiting out there to be found and written about. I’m even here writing this with music in my ears – a first for me.

An oft-used phrase of mine: no big conclusion here, I’m just trying. I will not disparage myself if I miss a day because going back to three times a week all of a sudden is a lot especially if I want to haul my podcast back into the mix too. But I’m trying.

Let’s not beat around the bush; it’s entirely too late, really, to post this so I’m going to keep it focused on the books. I read 28 books last year.

Aliya Ali-Afzal: The Big Day – A woman finds herself at loggerheads with her mother over the plans for her, the woman’s, wedding. This was a difficult read for me though it’s an alright book, that said, I thought the ending was still too swayed towards what the mother wanted.

Amy Jordan: The Dark Hours – It’s 2024 and retired DI Julia Hart is called back to the Irish police force because a current murder case has echoes of one Hart solved in 1994. We also get that narrative from 1994 wherein Julia became traumatised, lost her marriage or her husband (we don’t yet know) and dealt with sexism. This is an excellent thriller.

Beth O’Leary: Swept Away – A couple on a one night stand decide to have their night on a boat and wake up in the middle of the sea. Good use of limited location, I just didn’t like the ending much (everyone was a bit too related).

Carmel Harrington: The Stolen Child – A boy goes missing on a cruise and while the search begins his mother thinks back to her childhood in an orphanage. Very well paced and plotted; this is not your usual thriller.

Clémence Michallon: Our Last Resort – A sibling pair go for a holiday in order to reconnect but whilst there someone is murdered; the sister is anxious to find out who did it due to a bad event in their lives, and we get a good look at their childhood in a cult. Extremely good and whilst Michallon lets you guess the details a bit earlier than you strictly need, it’s to very good effect.

Elizabeth Eulberg: Take A Chance On Me – An American teen gets humiliated by a viral video so she goes to stay with her dad in London to get away from it all; there’s a boy on the cover, etc. Very fun.

Elodie Harper: Boudicca’s Daughter – A fiction story of what might have been the lives of Boudicca’s two daughters, women who have been left out of history except for brief mentions. Brilliant – hard-hitting and dark but incredibly well done.

Emily Slapper: Everyone I Know Is Dying – Iris struggles with life despite doing well in her job (though she is sleeping with a married man). The author deals with a familiar subject in a nicely new way and puts a more positive spin on a book that could have been a lot darker – it’s great.

Emma Cowell: Under The Lemon Tree – A woman whose twin dies in the car accident they’re both in goes home to Greece to grieve and write about her journey (she’s a columnist); when she meets an annoying man on the plane she is glad to leave him behind but, well, he might turn up later. Cowell’s on her usual excellent form writing about issues in the way only she does.

Gabrielle Zevin: Tomorrow And Tomorrow And Tomorrow – Sam and Sadie met as children when Sam was in hospital after an accident and Sadie was there because her sister has cancer. They bonded over video games but a conflict separated them for many years. We join them in adulthood as they decide to start a game development company. It lacks emotion, but the last quarter of the book was exceptional.

Gill Paul: Another Woman’s Husband – In the 1940s, Mary watches her childhood friend Wallis burn one marriage, not appreciate another, and start a relationship with the Prince of Wales. In the 1990s, Rachel and Alex are witnesses to Princess Diana’s death and while Rachel has her boutique to get back to, Alex is determined to create a documentary on what really happened that fateful night. A very good read.

Jim C Hines: Kitemaster – A young woman whose husband has just died makes his spirit kite ready to let his soul leave the world; following this she is recruited as a kitemaster to use the winds to help a kiteship sail in a battle with the queen. Super look at grief and an interesting world.

Juhea Kim: A Love Story From The End Of The World – A series of short stories the author has published over the last 10 years, all with a theme of environmentalism. Exceptional.

Julie Kagawa: Fateless – In an Assassin’s Creed-esque world, a thief is given an underworld-like task but upon finding out the people she’s been working for are not actually the good guys, she escapes with a fatechaser she meets and starts a journey to places it’s recommended not to go. The first in a trilogy; very good.

Kate Packman: You Can See the End Of The World From Here – A woman whose son said he would die at the time this story takes place becomes extremely paranoid and anxious about him and we see her mental state deteriorating. Fantastic.

Linda Corbett: Love You From A To Z – A woman finds a letter in the collection of items her boyfriend has bought for resale and attempts to give the letter back to its writer; in so doing she meets someone far more suited to her. The best disability representation I have ever seen in fiction – the main character’s disability is mostly noted in the way that people on the street respond to her.

Liz Fenwick: The Secrets Of Harbour House – Taking over her father’s role at his co-owned auction house, a young woman looks into the history of the home of two women artists whilst trying to avoid the constant phone calls from her boyfriend back in London; we get a second narrative from the most famous of these, her life on holiday just before the war where she met a woman she felt incredibly strongly for. Fantastic; Fenwick’s best yet.

Maggie Stiefvater: The Listeners – An American luxury hotel hosts Axis diplomats; tensions are high, the staff are trying their best to be polite in the face of the enemy, and all the while the waters surrounding the hotel are stirring. Super.

Michael Stewart: Black Wood Women – In the 1600s, an Irish girl living in England runs away from the men who killed her parents because they were Irish and seeks out a secret community where she will be safe; meanwhile we read a narrative fictionalising the story of the last wolf in England. I’m going to use the same word I’ve just used – super. Because it is.

Neil Ansell: The Circling Sky – An account of Ansell’s monthly journeys to the New Forest which he does to enjoy the place he frequented in his childhood and to look at the Forest in depth. There’s a lot of great history here as well as nature and Ansell’s own stories of his life are compelling. I wished there was more about the forest itself in terms of more general information but the personalisation of the book is undeniably fab.

Nikki May: This Motherless Land – In a loose retelling of Mansfield Park, Funke goes to England to live with her extended family after the death of her mother and brother in Nigeria and has to deal with the often-times significant trouble of fitting in where she’s not quite considered family (we also hear of her childhood). I didn’t enjoy Austen’s novel; I loved May’s.

Paul McVeigh: I Hear You – A collection of stories including a series of stories written for Radio 4. This is a great collection; my favourite of the lot is probably the one in which a man has an operation and finds himself very changed, mentally.

Phoenicia Rogerson: Aphrodite – A theatrical and comedic retelling of Aphrodite’s story including narratives from a vast number of characters. Extremely unique and very fun.

Ronali Collings: Anyone But Him – A woman takes a holiday recommended by her sister but, on falling due to bad footwear (her sister booked the wrong holiday) she finds herself looked after by a much younger man and despite her reticence, sparks fly. A massive change in genre from Colling’s first book but she has done it with aplomb.

Rose Diell: Fledging – A woman who isn’t sure she wants children lays an egg. An extremely good magical realistic story about the decision over whether or not to have children.

Samantha Sotto Yambao: Water Moon – Hana, the new owner of a shop that trades people’s choices so that those choices do not hurt any more finds herself in a bad situation when she finds her shop in ruins but the appearance of a stranger who stumbles into her shop thinking it’s a restaurant leads to a journey through an alternative Japan and to find the choice that has been stolen. A very good pivot towards fantasy for one of my most favourite authors.

Sophie Jo: Red Flags – Cam’s friends tell him enough, he can’t dump his next date until she dumps him while Poppy’s friends say she has to date someone for two months; they meet on the bus and don’t seem to be a match but they’re going to have to try to make it work. Very good YA fiction with a good few messages.

Tasneem Abdur-Rashid: Odd Girl Out – Following her parent’s divorce which she doesn’t know much about, Maariya has to move from Dubai to London and it’s not a nice move as people can’t and won’t pronounce her name correctly and she’s singled out for wearing a hijab, but she’s resilient; she also needs to find out what happened to her family. Brilliant YA debut from one of my favourite writers.

There may not have been many books, but it was a good reading year.

I’m glad I’ve decided to eschew collating all these missed posts for halves of years separately – last year I watched two films in total and that’s kind of embarrassing. I’ve also started watching older films again; my boyfriend’s into the early and mid 20th century years too so I’ve someone to watch them with.

The Blues Brothers (US, 1980) – Pretty fun. Loved the cameos and also the fact that Aretha Franklin’s husband goes off to rejoin his band, the band are trying to make a lot of money, and no one suggested the woman who just belted out an effective item number with top-notch vocals join them.

Coraline (US, 2009) – My boyfriend’s a big fan of the film so I watched it but probably wouldn’t have ended up seeing it otherwise as it had never really interested me. I’m glad I saw it; I liked it a lot.

Corpse Bride (US/UK, 2005) – Very good. Nicely humorous and fun in general.

Despicable Me 4 (US, 2024) – Loved it. Can’t go wrong with this series.

Freaky Friday (US, 2003) – I’ve kept meaning to watch this over the course of my life and never got round to it. It was worth the wait; absolutely fantastically funny. I’ve heard the recent second doesn’t measure up but I want to give it a go.

The Hunchback Of Notredame (US, 1996) – Technically this isn’t my first time watching it – I watched as a child – but, having now seen it as an adult, whoa this is a bit too dark for children!

Love Again (US/UK, 2023) – This film should have been a shoo-in for me: I’m a big fan of Priyanka Chopra; I like Outlander; I like Omid Jalili; I grew up on the Celine Dion album the heavily-featured song belongs to; I could continue, you get the picture. It was unfortunately not at all good. Basically everything that wasn’t the actors themselves (there are a lot of famous actors in this) fell short and made this painful to watch.

The Magic Faraway Tree (UK, 2026) – I liked how this was adapted for the modern era and it was fun and the bad guy wasn’t a true bad guy which is still a nice novelty, but it missed the mark a bit. Or, rather, the natural progression was surely for one kid to go to the magic land, the other kids to join her on the return, and then – the bit that wasn’t included – the parents to do so too. If the forthcoming sequels are about the same family, I hope the parents are included in the magic.

Michael (US/UK, 2026) – Let’s be honest, this is an excuse to have a dance party in a cinema but it is a good film nonetheless.

The Pink Panther (US, 1963) – Fantastic. Wish I could see it for the first time again.

The Pink Panther: A Shot In The Dark (US, 1964) – Not quite as good as the first one but then that would’ve been difficult to beat.

The Producers (US, 1967) – No surprise that the woman who appreciates books that mostly remain in one place found a film that is mostly one scene very good indeed.

Rebecca (UK, 2020) – This hasn’t been given that many positive reviews but I thought it was great. Could it have been better? Yes, but we got the original ending and a love marriage that felt real. I also liked this version of Mrs Danvers as there came a point I almost believed she’d changed even when I knew she hadn’t.

Summer Wars (Japan, 2009) – I’d wanted to watch this for years during the time is was difficult to get anime films in the west but one thing I forgot to do was actually find out what it was about. I think I would’ve preferred less gaming (my holy grail is Free Guy and nothing has yet measured up) but it was good over all. Now I’ve just got to watch My Name and My Neighbor Totoro and the list of anime films I’ve wanted to watch for ages will be complete.

Super Mario Bros (US, 2023) – Did not enjoy. I’ll try the Zelda movie.

Wicked (US, 2024) – The hype affected this a bit for me in that I didn’t find it to be amazing but it was very good and I liked the casting.

A Christmas Prince (US, 2017) – Your usual not great but festive kind of film. I watched this for Rose McIver and she and the cast do well with what they’ve been given to work with.

A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding (US, 2018) – Likewise.

Looking For Her (US, 2022) – This was obviously lower budget than some but the production did a fair job and the relationship worked.

A Very British Christmas (UK, 2019) – This could have maybe been okay but if you’re going to have a character who is a famous singer and the script goes on about the singing to the point they join a choir for an event that is shown, you’ve got to have them singing in the film.

And that’s the last couple of years accounted for.

As I try to get myself back into the swing of being myself again following the massive life change I’ve gone through the last several months, I’m feeling ever more drawn to write this blog again. It’s not like I ever stopped feeling that way – I stopped writing because running an indie podcast takes a phenomenal amount of time if you want the content to be snappy – but right now it feels particularly accessible and obviously easier, less daunting, and there’s something about having a place to write, albeit it on a specific subject (which limits you) that podcasting can’t match in the same way, happy though it makes me. I’ve also come to realise that the idea that I’ve lost the skill isn’t correct – it feels that way but actually what I’ve lost is my belief in myself and I could do with getting that back.

I have effectively mostly said goodbye to Austen country to say hello to Robert Burns country; I need to explore his work more as if I do find I like it, there’s a lot more of Burns in Dumfries than there is Austen in Hampshire, even Chawton (yes!). Besides Burns’ house and the mausoleum, there is the Centre, statues of Burns and his wife, Jean Armour (separate statues in different places at that), multiple pubs and shops with imagery or straight-out history, and poetry in various places in town. It took 3 visits for me to realise the pavement around the bandstand at a park boasted a poem, it was so unexpected. And near Dumfries there’s another Burns house. (And all this as well as history that relates to Robert the Bruce and William Wallace and Bonnie Prince Charlie and a Taj Mahal-esque abbey – the town is as run down as the residents will tell you but the history is fantastic.)

Since the latter months of last year my reading has been minimal but I’m starting to get back on track. I finished Beth O’Leary’s The Flatshare in May. It took me two months but I got it done. I dabbled in Marian Keyes’ Grown Ups which didn’t stick, Sarah Moss’s Summerwater which is nice but not quite right for me right now – the irony that it’s set in Scotland at solstice isn’t lost on me – but what is sticking is Phoebe McIntosh’s Dominoes. That one was a strange but understandable journey – I saw a McIntosh in a local church’s graveyard (the big, red stone monuments in Scotland are still a novelty to me and very grand) and it reminded me I had never got to Phoebe’s book… which made me get wistful about the hardback I have in my storage unit back home before, a few days later, I remembered I have an ecopy on my reader. Belated thanks again to Andrew Blackman – it’s a good read.

This is draft two of this post. The first yapped on about what I was reading and it didn’t feel right – I’ve left some books out of this draft. I’m also letting this post be easy and mundane, just something with some life, some energy, in it, and a primary purpose of putting a few words on a blank page; I’m going to smile to myself after I publish it. I might dance around the room a bit and get excited when the man that undeniably caused all this comes home and asks me about my day. Whoever first said moving is one of the biggest life stressors was right. So is upending your entire life. I have a feeling that if I’m writing, I’ll get through it.

I started reading Reminiscences Of Jane Austen’s Niece Caroline Austen yesterday. It’s a short book published by the Jane Austen Society, a collection of diary/records by Caroline that expands upon notes her mother kept. I was, in fact, originally looking for Caroline’s memoir of her famous aunt but Chawton Cottage, which sells the Society’s books, didn’t have it in stock. (I didn’t realise until yesterday’s reading that you can in fact find the memoir within the larger A Memoir Of Jane Austen that James Edward Austen-Leigh compiled.)

Anyway, the reminiscences are actually just a diary of family’s and friends’ events and it’s proving to be an appealing short read. It’s organised by year with the various events of said year written as paragraphs. This paragraph is so like a Jane Austen novel I may have laughed out loud:

It was from Sennington that my grandmother’s adventures began. She and her other sisters, when young women, were left there for some months, whilst their mother was making visits in Berkshire, staying chiefly at Barton Court – Mr Raymond’s. She was accustomed to take with her one daughter when she went from home – to wait upon her, as was said and at the time to which I refer, she had taken Jane, afterwards Mrs Fowle. At Sennington there lived a family named Hinxman, not in the ranks of gentility, well-to-do yeomen farming their own small property. Mr Hinxman aspired to the hand of one of the Miss Cravens, and obtained it. They were married during her mother’s absence in Berkshire; and still worse, a friend of his, Mr Bishop, a horse-dealer, as I have heard, with no money and no character, prevailed on another daughter, Mary, to marry him. Where Governor Craven was all this time, I do not know; but apparently not with his wife, nor at home with his daughters (Austen, 2004, p.7).

Although it is an expanded diary, as you can see from that quote, there’s just something about the way that Caroline writes. Sadly, as Deirdre Le Faye recounts in her introduction to the book, Caroline wrote quite a lot of fiction as a child but found herself mocked by those around her – likely not including her aunt Jane – and destroyed them (Le Faye, 2004, p.VII). According to record, her stories had their characters meet violent ends as young Caroline felt it imperative to do so. In later life, she destroyed the remainder of the work left (Le Faye, 2004, p.IX) so sadly we will never see them. It’s good, I think, that we at least have this diary, her memories of her aunt, a couple of pictures (including a photo in later life), and mentions of Caroline’s work in Jane’s letters.

(I decided after writing the above to go and have a look at Jane letters and found that not only did she correspond with Caroline a lot – I love Deirdre Le Faye’s comprehensive indexes! – but she made a good few comments on Caroline’s writing that combine measured criticism with a positive outlook. And here I was surprised – aunt Jane suggests that a male character in one story is not being treated badly enough and suggests Caroline has him… off himself (Le Faye (ed.), 2011, p.300). I’m still getting over the shock of that one. She also says he could change his surname instead – something that would punish him more than Caroline already had, essentially – but, clearly, Caroline’s ideas of violence didn’t stem from nowhere unless Jane was in fact mocking her and… I agree with Le Faye that, all of the references combined point to Jane being sincere in her encouragement. Jane’s letter is dated December 1814, when Caroline was nine years old, and the suggestion by Jane to have the male character off himself matches the young age Le Faye discusses in Caroline’s book’s Introduction.)

Having written more than I’d thought I would about a rather obscure book, two remain. I recently finished Emma Cowell’s fourth book, the contemporary romance Under The Lemon Tree which I’d been reading slowly over the course of a month. After having spent the previous six years mostly at home due to ill rabbits, when Liz Fenwick invited me to her Penzance-based book launch I jumped at the chance for a long weekend away and it culminated in a podcast recording with Liz and Emma at Liz’s lovely house, often seen in her TikTok videos. Obligatory photograph:

Thereby I received Emma’s book. Key to Emma’s writing, to me, is the way she takes a or some topic(s) that may or may not be well-covered in society, and delves into it or them from her specific angle or way of seeing things – I’m not really sure exactly how to describe it, it’s easiest to describe it as her Unique Selling Point. In her third book, the topics were songwriting and early onset dementia; in her first book, it was IVF and lost love; and now, in her fourth (I haven’t read the second), it’s grief. Right time, right place, perhaps – I’m still very much missing my rabbits – but Cowell’s focus on grief lasting as long as it needs to, so to speak, and letting oneself work through it, are lovely, and it’s rounded off by the following at the bottom of the penultimate page: ‘grief is simply love that is missing its target’. I took a few moments for that one.

Lastly, I’m currently reading Liz Fenwick’s (surprise, surprise) The Secrets Of Harbour House. This is Liz’s 13th book, and I say that because I’m a bit in awe, not because she’s written so many books (I mean, that is awesome but not what I’m talking about) but because whilst Liz’s books were already very good reads, she’s kind of levelled up again. I am very aware that I can picture the location pretty well thanks to Liz’s invitation to her launch but there is a quality of immersion and world building in this new book that surpasses her others. I’ve read three of her other books – her previous (12th), her eighth (I believe), and her very first – so I’ve read from a range of ‘eras’, but the effective levelling here is a massive leap from her entirely respectable previous book. Needless to say I’m enjoying it – at 50 pages in we’re about to move from what’s so far been a contemporary story to a historical thread – and finding myself extremely excited about where she might go with her next.

References

Austen, Caroline (2004) Reminiscences Of Jane Austen’s Niece Caroline Austen, revised edition, The Jane Austen Society
Le Faye, Deirdre (1986) Introduction, in Austen, Caroline, Reminiscences Of Jane Austen’s Niece Caroline Austen, The Jane Austen Society, pp. VII-IX
Le Faye, Deirdre (ed.) (2011) Jane Austen’s Letters, 4th edition, Oxford University Press