Instagram
Hot salty nuts. In maple syrup. Wild swimming fuel.Immortalised on an owl. Not a sentence I ever thought I’d write, but one I love. Spot it on the Minerva trail in Bath this summer.Happy Father. About to dive into the harbour. Cornwall. 1950s.Me and my bro, hanging out in Essex. When the sun always shone and everything was orange.For lo, it was decreed that now is the time to gin up the rhubarb for winter.Grown up book 3 research reading. Roll on the summer when I can curl up with this stack.Twitter
- RT @jomccarron: A few more pics of my book owl JK Owling - A celebration of literature. She can be found on Pierrepont St outside @Monahans… 7 hours ago
- Immortalised on an owl. Not a sentence I ever thought I’d write, but one I love. Spot it on the Minerva trail in Ba… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 9 hours ago
- Spending the day wild swimming and outdoor writing tomorrow. *Looks at gloomy sky and shakes fist* 12 hours ago
- RT @AMHeathLtd: Twittersphere, we need your help! Victoria Hobbs received a bottle of champagne with this lovely note BUT WE DON'T KNOW WHO… 12 hours ago
- I think I need a therapy goat. twitter.com/varndeangoats/… 12 hours ago
Search this site
Tag Archives: 1976
Stay gold, Ponyboy
There’s something almost alchemical about the moment a hard copy of your book is finally pressed into your hot hands. A strange kind of magic that has turned the base material – people and plot and places – that has … Continue reading →
Posted in Blog, Fiction, Reading
|
Tagged 1976, boy next door, Essex, Joanna Nadin, love, mothers, Queen of Bloody Everything
|
Leave a comment
