Hearing of how Cambridge Analytica used a personality type questionnaire via Facebook to access personal records got me thinking.  Why do so many of us do these quizzes and what makes them so appealing?  The answer lies in that universal question – who am I?

Following the well-known advice of William Faulkner, I have selected a few passages of my latest work and taken them out as being superfluous, self-indulgent and downright unnecessary.  I’ve copied and pasted one in here, as I couldn’t bear to kill it completely…   Francesca lifted one mustard, navy and red patterned curtain and looked…

Last week when the snow had stopped falling for a time, I saw an angel.  Well, the shape of one like you see on Christmas trees or cards.  It was hard to make out at first, but the more I looked, the clearer it became.  It was a gentle reminder to search, scavenge and scrabble…

Salma kept her head down, let the scarf fall across her face and focused on placing her feet one in front of the other on the littered pavement.  Although it was fairly crowded, she never walked into anyone.  They always side-stepped around her, going onto the road where necessary to avoid acknowledging she even existed. …

Over the past week or so, I’ve seen people I know plunged into unexpected grief. And I’m wondering, how much does it take before I learn to cherish the people that I have in my own life? Often we scrabble to retrieve memories after someone dies, and regret we didn’t make more when they were…

How many times has that question punched you in the chest over the years?  It can be the little daily things like watching your dog, muck to the eyeballs, jumping over a freshly mopped floor, or driving through a massive puddle in your newly washed car, or giving your kids lollipops straight after a trip…

Is one thing I (and probably most people) hate being.  If there is ever a circumstance where things are unpredictable, messy or just downright failing to follow my wishes then I meet it with uncontrollable rage and hysterical flapping.  Ironically.

The more everyone panics. About being stopped from doing important things. Of course, if that means you’re stuck in an airport, or you’re in labour then it is important. But take me, for example: I’m groaning at the heavy sky because I have an appointment with my beauty Salon. How can life go on if…

It’s been bothering me for a good while now- the hypocrisy of telling my son to practise his piano and clarinet every day when my own viola lies neglected below the stairs. ‘My practising days are done’ I tell myself as I stress the importance of starting with scales to him. I hated having to…

The past couple of months have been tough- for so many people I know and for me too in a smaller measure. What do you do, think or say when times are this dark? Honestly, I’ve no idea. Somehow words emblazoned on coffee cups or embroidered on cushions just fly away in the face of…