Graduation

Eight months after the tears, sweat and anguish that is dissertation hand-in I finally graduated with a Masters in Creative and Professional Writing today.

My 11 year old daughter was at the ceremony waving continually from her place in the crowd. Afterwards she told me she felt tearful when the speaker thanked family members for helping graduates along the way. She said "Mummy I feel really proud of you".

I had my daughter when I was still a teenager and I remember how surprised people were when I applied to university to take my undergraduate degree. People do not expect much of a teenage mum although those that know me would have expected nothing less.

Graduation was made all the more special because I saw five of my very dear friends. We initially became friends through our shared love of writing and reading, later we found we loved each other outside of those confines. Now I would be lost without them. I would not write as much and I certainly would not laugh or smile as much. If nothing else had come from my course meeting the girls would have been worth the fees alone.

So, as we stood with our families in the freezing cold March wind and threw our hats high into the air I felt nothing but thanks for all I've achieved, for my friends and for my family. Simply put, I felt happy.

My novel

I've kept something from you. I haven't talked about my writing. I've talked around it, discussed events, authors etc however I have yet to touch upon my own work. Perhaps I feel shy because it's new. Although the idea had been whirring in my head for some time before I put pen to paper or, more accurately, fingers to keyboard.

So here goes. The novel I am working on is a childrens novel aimed at eight to twelve year olds. It's a fantasy and it's set in a famous London landmark. I've been researching it for some months now although if I counted all my visits to the place I would say I've been researching it since I was two. I'm not going to divulge the place yet because the work is not finished and I still may change it. So for now all I'll say is I'll keep you posted.

Literary Girl

February Book Slam

I went to Book Slam last week. For those of you who don't know it Book Slam is 'London's Best Literary Nightclub' according to the blurb. Its moved to the Tabernacle in Notting Hill and whilst I'm still debating if I prefer the cleaner, more theatrical and grand looking venue to its dark, dirty predecessor there's no doubt that Book Slam still rocks.

Thursday saw readings from poet Robin Robertson and author Joshua Ferris. Music came from the talented Tawiah.

Robin Robertson's Scottish drawl and dry wit had me captivated. He started with "Most of my poems are about drink, sex and death. It's vital they're kept in that order." Beat. "For legal reasons." Robin lived up to his word with a poem about an artichoke which was a barely disguised euphemism for, well a "stub root" as he affectionately called it.

Patrick Neate, the brainchild behind the night and occasional, host took to the stage in his usual non-style. Clutching at a can of beer he barely concealed his discomfort at having to stand in the spotlight. This familiar style is endearing (he'd probably hate that) and was particularly so when he mentioned that he was doing a book signing. He cringed and muttered and finished by saying "I hate myself a little now." Still I don't think anyone else felt the same way. I for one miss him when he gets a professional to take to the stage.

Anyway after Robin came Joshua Ferris reading from his new novel, The Unnamed, a novel about a man, Tim Farnsworth, with a psychological disorder that causes him to walk. This compulsion to walk can strike at any time and he has no power to stop it. Joshua read from the start of the novel in which Tim has been to see another doctor who has suggested a new cure.
Certainly the premise was interesting and I came away wondering whether Tim was ever going to be cured of his malady however I'm not sure I'm going to buy it... I'll keep you posted.