The Declaration

Disclaimer: Should you enjoy this review and choose to make a purchase of the featured book, via the image link to Amazon, I will receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself. As promised, following my discovery and consumption of Gemma Malley’s ‘The Killables’, I moved on for a second feast with ‘The Declaration’…

Disassociation

  Today, I officially completed my umpteenth music lesson, and am now the dubiously-proud owner of a Suzanne Vega track covered by the previously-unknown singer, Jay Cool! Sadly, in spite of the snazzy image, after rather-a-lot of singing and guitar lessons, Jay will remain unknown. She cannot sing in tune, has a bad croak and…

The Killables

Disclaimer: Should you choose to purchase copies of any of featured books, by clicking through to Amazon via the image links provided, I will receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself. Since reading Julianna Baggott’s novel, Pure, I seem to want to devour every dsytopian novel I can get hold of. Is this…

The Resistance

Written in  response to How to Navigate a Midlife Career Transition: One Day at a Time. As we approach fifty, or accelerate past it, we represent a resistance to ‘change’ movement in the workplace. The reality is that we have had plenty of years in which to witness the same so-called ‘changes’ having been tried out…

Pure

Sure, Julianna Baggot’s ‘Pure’ may well be a post-apocalyptic novel centering around the adventures of four knife-wielding teenagers but, to me, as a very-much-in-the-present-middle-aged-and-stressed-out mother, there is much I can relate to. Imagine this scene: You have lost your grip over your teenage sprogs, who have abandoned ship. You were rather hoping that, once settled,…

Worthlessness

  Am I worth less than a life that is half my age? If that is the case, then why do they double me up, paying me twice as much as my younger self, only to then let go of my worthlessness – to save themselves from the cost of my pricelessness?   Copyright owned…

Shrivelled

I shake off the lines that led me to this point, and, in the aftermath, I feel the smoothness of the surface of myself, whilst considering whether I really know where the point is. Is it at the sharp tip of my artist’s B pencil? Is it at the tip of my Hubby’s Roman beak?…

Llanberis: Snowdon’s Foot

  Vertical. Vertical does not go with vertical. Turning back, I stick to ground level. My right foot being crook, I remain at one with the foot of Snowdon.   Pressure. Pressure is a cure for the pain. I apply it, settling myself down upon the arch of Snowdon’s foot, hoping to stunt the flow…

Nothing Illegal

  ‘Nothing illegal here, mate!’ he declares, as he passes a clear-plastic sandwich bag over to a consort. The bag, of course, containing a quantity of white powder, on full view for all passers by. The lad, of course, containing a head stuffed full with similar bags of white powder, where once sat a brain,…

Towyn

Block upon block of blocks Blocking the view of the blocks that front up to the sea that was the sea before it became the block that stopped the girls of this town from drifting away from the block-headed boys they did not choose to be blocked in by – the boys with the bags…