Folks, I have made a decision.
After three days of packing, I have decided that, assuming all goes well next week, I am never going to move again.  Ever - unless I am rich enough to pay someone to do my packing and cleaning for me.  Not only am I bloody knackered, my flat is in complete disarray and my hands have gone from Fairy soft to those of a seasoned builder.  As for my nails... one is not amused!
Ah!  Which brings me nicely on to my night at the theatre on Friday night (my only real break from the mad house).  I went to see Handbagged with my mate Marie and thoroughly enjoyed the rather tongue-in-cheek exploration of Maggie Thatcher's relationship with the Queen.  It made me think about Madge's legacy - and how it has impacted on the lives and attitudes of people today.  Nothing illustrated this better than, whilst waiting for the bus home afterwards, I witnessed a homeless guy beg another homeless man for some cardboard to sleep under.  Whilst Maggie may have thought that we should all work to lift ourselves out of poverty, some people have absolutely nothing to do that with.  Something that is still forgotten by the Tories today.
Anyway, minor political rant over, I'm gonna make this blog short and sweet - I think I need a nap before I venture out for my Scrabble date and want to finish Captain Corelli's Mandolin before I go out too - after seeing the movie years ago I was a bit put off, but am really enjoying it.  Give it a go if you haven't already.
Oh, and wish me luck for the moving madness heading my way... 

Happy Sunday!
Okay, I know, the weather is lousy (a trip to the corner shop for coffee and milk has put to bed plans for a nice walk this afternoon) but January is nearly over which means that spring is one step closer - hurray!
Okay, I admit, I have reasons for my new-found optimism.  Firstly, an offer I put in on a lovely little one bed flat in Walthamstow was accepted on Friday, which means that I am about to spunk 90% of my life savings in one go and get myself into horrendous debt for the next 25 years - yippee!  Seriously though, I'm well chuffed.  Don't worry, I am well aware that it could all go belly up before completion but I'm one step closer to fulfilling one of my biggest life goals.

And that's not all.  The owner of the City Pride pub, Luigi, has agreed for me to hold a little exhibition in his function room - cool, eh?  Again, I'm not getting too excited until it actually happens, but hopefully from 18th February for two weeks, Tuesday to Friday, you'll be able to pop along and have a gander at my stuff - oh, and Luigi is going to be offering a discount on his authentic Italian food for anyone visiting the show.  I know I for one will be taking advantage of his hospitality... get the dates in your diary.
But before I leave you all too it to go chase my mortgage broker and design my exhibition poster, I leave you with a final thought.  Yesterday I finished Miranda Hart's book, Is It Just Me?  Okay, I admit it Miranda, it took me a while to warm to your style, but it has been a while since reading about yoga and motherhood has made me laugh out loud on the tube.  And, as for the last chapter on Dreams, the lady has it spot on.  You see, Ms Hart always wanted to be a comedy actress, but it wasn't until her mid twenties that she even dared admit it to herself.  And, love her or hate her, you have to admit the girl's done good.  And she never would have if she hadn't taken that deep breath and put herself out there.  Which, come the 18th February, I shall be doing once more, this time with my art.  Wish me luck.  Oh, and if you come along and decide that you hate it, I won't be offended if you forget to tell me...

Happy New Year everyone!
Well I hope you all had a restful and fun-filled Holiday season.  I was one of the lucky ones and haven't been to work since Christmas Eve and am feeling much better for the break.  However Monday is looking less than merry right now...
So, I don't know about you lot, but other than catching up with family and friends I didn't do an awful lot - which meant I had time to do some serious reading - and writing to boot.  I've finished my short story The Night Before Christmas which you can read here and carried on with novel number 2, which is now at 56,000 words and counting - woo hoo!  Oh, and before I take the plunge and investigate self publishing, I've contacted

 a couple of agents this week in the hope that my first attempt at a novel, Faith Hope and Chocolate, will finally be snapped up by one of them first.  Keep everything crossed for me...
Well, I would go on to talk about New Years Resolutions but I plan to write about that next week in my blog for Anglo Info - so keep your eyes peeled if you want to hear more.
Well, that's all from me for now - I want to watch a DVD on my new telly before I go to bed and have a hectic day of massage, brunch and photography exhibitions tomorrow.  No rest for the wicked, eh?

Happy Friday one and all!

I don’t want to know how long it is since I last blogged here but I know it’s been a while.  Sorry about that, but, well, I’ve been really rather busy, mainly putting my body through hell whilst having a bloody good time.  Those of you who read my Overground Underground blog (http://blogs.angloinfo.com/underground-overground/2013/06/05/mountains-and-molehills/) will know I’ve just been to Peru – and have since fallen in love with it – and anyone who follows me on Twitter (https://twitter.com/lovehatelondon) will also know that this week has been dedicated to recovering from a really rather wonderful weekend at the Isle of Wight Festival.  It would appear that standing in a field bopping to a plethora of bands for four days starts to hurt in your thirties...

So, needless to say, my creative endeavours have taken a back seat over the last month or so – but not completely.  Following two rejections from literary agents (FOOLS!) I have written to two more, and managed to squeeze in a writing session between my jolly jaunts too.  Other than that, I admit I’ve not done a lot – but I’ve had a break and am rearing to go.

Of course, going to far flung places and being able to take a step back from the day to day grind has given me space to reflect, gain perspective – and be inspired.  The stresses of work aren’t getting to me anywhere near as much as they did pre-Peru, and I thank the country for reminding me what is important in life – and not to sweat the small stuff.  And, as corny as it sounds, it brought me back to earth – as in it reminded me how beautiful the world can be, even when it pushes you to your limits.  So, on the way home I made this little sketch – and intend to turn it into a painting some time soon.

Another great thing about travelling (and the silver lining of long haul flights with dreary stop-overs in dull airports) is that you get time to read – and devour a book in 24 hours.  I practically inhaled Margaret Atwood’s The Year of the Flood and found myself nodding away to Caitlin Moran’s How to be a Woman – and have been inspired to get the paints out to celebrate womanhood too.  No doubt I shall produce a collage or two to record my time in Cuzco, the Sacred Valley and those amazing mountains whilst I am at it. 

Watch this space....

Last night I went to Paperchase, and, rather than wandering around lusting over their stationary and stroking beautiful embroidered notebooks, I walked in, picked up what I needed, paid, and left.  You could even accuse me of shopping like a man, but the truth of the matter is I had already seen what I wanted and was just returning with my lovely 20% off voucher from Red magazine.  I was buying a cover for my fabulous new Kindle.

Yes, it is true.  I have gone over to the digital side.  Whilst I will no doubt still be reading “proper” books, I just know that it is going to revolutionise my commute – and save my back in the process.  So far I’ve just downloaded Wuthering Heights, but already have a wish list of other potential reads.  And, yesterday, a friend told me how I can load my own writing onto it – and see my words in print.  Sweet...

Which brings me on to a little bit of novel news.  I have officially been rejected by 6 publishers.  To be fair (or rather to make me feel a bit better about it all), one of them is no longer accepting submissions directly from writers, and two took the time to tell me how much they liked my work, but sadly it was not for them.  The other three didn’t say a lot – in fact, one of them was a self-confessed standard issue blurb and another had got my address completely wrong on the top of the letter.  Thank God I sent in an SAE.  But, I have not given up hope.  I shall now move on to plan B (get an agent) before doing an E.L. James and publishing on-line as my first step to world domination.

Which leads me on to a confession.  I’ve have just finished listening to an audiobook version of Fifty Shades of Grey.  I’ve been listening to it on and off since the end of August – which I guess will give you an idea of how much I enjoyed it.  No disrespect to the author – fair play to her, she’s done rather well for herself – but I’ve never read (or listened) to a book so full of clichés and in such desperate need for a thorough going over with a thesaurus.  Not to mention the fact that the main character has got to be one of the most irritating people ever to grace a page – and Mr Grey does for S&M what Jimmy Saville has done for the BBC.  Don’t get me wrong, as far as I am concerned people should be able to get their sexual kicks however they want – as long as all involved are in agreement and happy to do so.  This does not include enforcing what your partner eats, what she wears and how often she exercises.  And it certainly doesn’t mean hitting her with a belt when she clearly doesn’t want you too.

Anyway, feminist rant over.  Let’s move on – to Mr Bill Bryson.  I had the pleasure of meeting Bill at a friend’s graduation ceremony at Durham University – and I’ve just finished reading his book Troublesome Words.  I recommend this to anyone who writes and certainly to all you grammar geeks out there.  Not only is it a really useful reference, it is also a very amusing read.  Ms James would certainly benefit from it (although I don’t think Bill covers her constant misuse of the word “unconscious”).  Having said that, I’d also love my mate Bill to read her first novel and write his own critique...

So, there you have it.  I have a Kindle, I’ve not got a publisher and I’ve just read two books at opposite ends of the spectrum.  In short, I’ve been taking the literary rough with the smooth – and learning quite a bit in the process.  Long may it continue.