Book Club: The Moth

img_8491I came across The Moth while browsing the stand alone displays of one bookshop or another and something about the cover commanded me to stop in my tracks.  Perhaps it was the promise of an introduction by Neil Gaiman or maybe my own inner moth was drawn to the golden glow of the lightbulb suspended front and centre on the cover.  Whatever it was that cast its spell on me, moreso than all the other books on display I had to know more.

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a storyteller.  Someone who can turn a tale and transport the listener (or viewer in the case of my work) to another time and place for a moment or longer.  The cover’s promise of 50 extraordinary true stories had me hooked and I was keen to know more.

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Book Club: The Bees by Laline Paull


Since I moved further away from the centre of the city (though I’m hardly in the sticks) I’ve been making the most of opportunities to catch the bus or DLR and fall back in love with reading.  And boy did I fall hard with Laline Paull’s debut novel The Bees.

Rarely do I come across a story that I feel compelled to share with everyone I meet but when introducing myself for the first time in April I must have said, Hi.  My name’s Laura and I’m reading this great book about bees! tens of times.  I feel no shame in admitting that I mourned the end of this novel even though I greedily raced through it and missed my bus stop on more than one occasion just to finish a chapter.

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All Change…again

As I write this post my tip-tip-tapping is being accompanied by the panting and harrumphing of my new BFF.  New noises and a cooling breeze are floating in through my bedroom window and I couldn’t be happier about it.

The harrumph-er in question is a docile scamp named Allie whose hair rivals Cyndi Lauper’s punkiest styles.  She has been brightening my days for the past few weeks with her waggy tail and insatiable thirst for walks and playtime.  The noise through the window are further south than I’m used to but as the days roll on they seem a little more familiar.

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A Visit to the Adventure Travel Show


Last weekend I rose with the birds and set off across London in search of adventure.  Well, in search of The Adventure Travel Show at least.  Even though the show’s been going for 20 years I’d never heard of it before and wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived at Kensington Olympia.

Set out on one floor the place was bustling with eager travellers, keen to snap up a bargain in between seminars and panel talks.  We opted to give the seminars a miss – I’m sure they were great but at £45 they were beyond my budget for the day.  But no matter. In between entering every competition in sight and lusting after expensive adventure holidays we managed to get along to a couple of panels and they were brilliant.

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Last week was a roller coaster. We mourned the loss of some of the world’s most vibrant and innovative artists.  It was difficult to feel warmth in the dark abyss.  And yet a chink of light appeared under a heavy door as a stiff key turned toward change.

Last week, for the first time, a woman became First Minister of Northern Ireland.  If you’re not familiar with Northern Irish politics First Minister is a bit like Prime Minister.  Her name is Arlene Foster and she comes from County Fermanagh.  Fermanagh, if you’ve never been, is where the majority of rain that falls in Northern Ireland seems to land and as a result, abounds with lush green fields.

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