I surfaced at 4 am. While answering a call of nature, my head was buzzing with a conversation between Dr Dan and someone called Andrew. Brought to semi-consciousness by a cold bathroom floor I thought, ‘Hang on. Who the heck is Andrew?’ Had I created a character, given him one line and then abandoned him…

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Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye. At 14.00 on this the 26th day of August in the year of our Lord 2020, I finished first draft of Dan III, hereinafter to be known as Dr Dan Moves On. Which means this is going to be a two-book year! Who’da thought. This evening I’ll mark the…

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In an attempt to make up for lost classroom time, there is talk in the UK of dropping the poetry element of English Literature in next year’s GCSE exams. Who knows, trigonometry may be next for the chop. The school curriculum has no shortage of subjects that can seem pointless to a 14 year old.…

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I have had many places of employment. Shops, cafes, offices. I once did a stint in a factory canteen, ladling out chips with everything. Like most students in the Sixties, I worked for the postal service during the Christmas rush, though I was deemed too small to carry a bag of mail and got a…

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Like this heron, I’m going out on a limb today, admittedly without much risk to my health, but public commitment to a deadline can be a powerful thing. The next Dr Dan book, drum roll please, will be published on October 30th. There. No going back now. Yesterday a friend asked me how deadlines work…

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These are dangerous times, and I’m not talking about the pandemic. When the howlers arrived at the door of J.K. Rowling, darling of the publishing world, and issued their fatwa, it was a wake up call for anyone still unaware that the death of freedom of speech is imminent. This is what happens when you…

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Let’s talk about critics, by which I mean, people who are paid to critique the stuff others have created. Fiction, poetry, music, art, whatever. Something created out of nothing and then offered to a wider audience. Who are these people, or perhaps I should ask, who do they think they are? Some are simply full-time…

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Has it really only been a month? It seems like years. I’m back at my desk because it’s the place where I know (usually) what I’m doing. I suppose that makes it my comfort zone, though sometimes it doesn’t feel like one. Ask any non-delusional writer/artist/person engaged in any creative endeavour. So I’m reunited with…

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Not a huge amount of work getting done in this parish at the moment, for understandable reasons, but I have managed a piece of journalism which you can find here. The Spectator has a special place in my heart. I met my husband on a blind date and, checking him out from a distance before…

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Dear readers, I haven’t posted recently because I’ve been keeping a deathwatch for my dear and lovely husband. It has been a strange, disorienting time, with night turned into day, and sorrow alleviated by funny and affectionate stories about him. Howard died this morning, holding my hand, in blessed peace at the end of a…

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