Serendipity. Books Penzance Literary Festival 2015 The Penzance Literary Festival 2015 was under way when I glanced into my programme. My eye was drawn to an author I had missed: Uncertain Light: a journey through unknown territory with Marion Molteno. ‘In the mountains of war-torn Tajikistan, rebels abduct a UN peace negotiator. The lives of those closest to him begin to unravel… The latest novel … Continue reading

      This week I spend a wonderful couple of hours spending a birthday gift voucher in Waterstones, Truro, I felt familiar excitement as I breathed in the scent of books from the doorway. As always I viewed the laden tables in dizzy wonder. So many books, so many writers, so many stories. So many lives, memories, heartache lying between covers. So many hours of work and waiting, disappointment, … Continue reading

    Is it just me who finds the ending of many recent crime novels totally implausible? It is so disappointing to be gripped throughout a book and then, in the last chapter, the main character, bewilderingly, bizarrely and deliberately puts herself slap bang into the danger she has been fleeing from for the whole book. In one gripping bestseller a woman who has just worked out who her would … Continue reading

August Blog Penzance held its Literary Festival in July. For a few days the streets and parks were full of people happily wandering between events, listening to visiting writers and poets and steadfastly supporting local writers. Writing workshops for aspiring authors of all ages and numerous children’s events were a great success. None of this could have happened without the vision, imagination and dedication of a few, who give up … Continue reading

Outside the rain is lashing against the windows. The sea through the rooftops is white capped and irritable. A small tanker is holed up in the lea of the land. My latest book is finished and with an editor. Now I must wait Winter has been ferocious, endless, sodden and here we are longing and waiting for the late spring. The cliff tops are still closed and brown with few … Continue reading

December 2013 Idle thoughts at the closing of the Year Recently, I went to stay for two weeks in a small fishing village in West Cornwall to dog-sit for a friend. Her house perched high up on the cliff-like hillside. Huge windows brought the views inside so that I perched out over a vast expanse of sea and sky stretching towards the Scilly Isles. The harbour lay below clustered by … Continue reading

I am spending a wonderful, isolated, dog sitting, editing week in Mousehole  in a house set above the sea.  Writer’s bliss. 

  I sit facing the mountains as early sun heats my skin. There is a nest of sparrows at the top of one of the palms outside my bedroom window. The house lies in a valley of lemon and apricot orchards. Fat yellow lemons, impossibly seductive lie amid green branches and on the dry ground. I long to gather them up. The dry stony fields are circled by Cypress trees … Continue reading

This was the sight I woke to last Sunday while staying with a friend in Marazion.

As I write great goblets of rain are hitting the windows sideways in a ferocious gale, gusting around the house, finding every crack, filling the house with cold air and rattling the windows. The sea across the rooftops has disappeared into a matching grey  sky. Yet in the garden my clematis Montana is beginning to flower as if in defiance. Other more delicate creepers have already bloomed fragile blue flowers … Continue reading

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