Saturday, 25 July 2015

YALC, Teenage Kicks, And Forgotten Stories

YALC was a weird experience of almost passing out, every time I looked at one of the authors I love. At one point, Samantha Shannon walked past me and I nearly broke my mother's arm, I grabbed on so hard. I was more nervous than I have been in a million years going up to Alice Oseman to get my book signed, and babbled at her about the blog post I wrote about her book a few months back. I could have been witty and articulate. Instead, I half-shrieked at her about how I'd written a blog post about her book and then randomly told her that I gave it "the most pretentious title possible" because I am incapable of behaving like a rational person in front of one of my biggest girl crushes ever.
I will put up pictures tomorrow-because I saw Cassandra Clare and Malorie Blackman and a bunch of other brilliantly interesting authors (and heard so much about the Mortal Instruments TV show *gaspsforbreath*)
Also, I listened to the awesome agent Molly Kerr Hawn talk with Kat Ellis, which was awesomely intriguing for anyone who wants to get stuff published, etc. Also, I have pictures of Judy Blume's talk. JUDY BLUME, PEOPLE. Which I will talk more about tomorrow.
In the meantime, I spent the afternoon curled up on the balcony overlooking the kitchen, finishing The Kite Runner, before my cousins and I held an important debate over whether to watch Harry Potter on the TV or play Harry Potter Cluedo. I'd just spent a week with my cousin on holiday, where she called her boyfriend over and over, while I got winked at by some lifeguards, and the two of us sang "Teenage Kicks" at each other, and danced to "Chelsea Dagger" together in the middle of a shop. My people-filter was faltering a little, and I was starting to need some time to let my brain breathe, even when we were in her bedroom, dancing around to "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" blaring on Kerrang! radio while we fixed our make-up.
My father, knowing the feeling, sat down with me later while I scribbled away in a notepad and told me stories I'd forgotten to distract me. He told me about the time we all went out to celebrate my grandfather being given an MBE, and Edwina Currie was sitting in the corner and asked to shake his hand, while a bunch of excitable children from our family flanked round her and ended up taking turns to jabber at her. (She was lovely). Then, he told me how my grandma would have loved to see how much I was reading. He told me how knowledgeable she was and how proud she was of how much I read. It didn't feel like a year since she'd died. I wished that she'd been able to see some of the things I've written since.

Thursday, 16 July 2015

Busy Bees and YALC!

So, I haven't posted in a while. That is because I have been doing a number of exciting things, such as:

Working on a novel

Being on holiday

Doing an interview on Doll's Hospital with Bethany!

Getting addicted to RuPaul's Drag Race with my cousin. We have spent the last three days slumped on my bed, glued to her laptop.

And in the meantime: preparing for YALC on Saturday!

So...it's a short post, but at least y'all know I haven't disappeared. And I will totally have some YALC anecdotes for you in a couple of days, so it's all good!

Monday, 6 July 2015

"i won't say anything that's worth a thing to me one day"

It feels like words are pouring out of me, and draining me raw all the time. My eyes are stinging with tiredness. I feel empty and aching for sleep, but my mind is rattling with worries and things I have to do, and it hurts. It hurts and at the same time, I almost feel nothing.
I enjoy what I write, but right now, it feels like there's nothing left in my head and I can feel my old worries circling again, snapping and waiting to drag me down.
When anyone asks if I'm OK, I tell them I'm fine. When they ask if I'm sure, I turn the question back to them. Everyone would say this is denial, unhealthy, repressing my feelings, but it's how I've always been. Even now, I'm dismissing all this as just some temporary angst, so that I can file it away and never have to worry about it again. It's easier to pretend than anyone realises.
 I cover my notes in smiley faces. Fake, aching smiley faces. I'm too tired to smile. Here are some songs I've been listening to:
 
Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)-Nico Vega
Come Home-Amatorksi
Closer-Joshua Radin
Can't Have You-Parade Of Lights
Older Chests-Damien Rice
Misguided Ghosts-Paramore
Half Asleep-School Of Seven Bells
 
 
I can never believe School Of Seven Bells aren't more popular. This song is beautiful and strange and sad and please, please listen to it.
 
 
 

                             

Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Addicted To Summer, Spinning Parties And Lead Balloon (And An Article)

I got a second Hellogiggles article published! Which you can check out on my Hellogiggles page!
 
*
It's summer and there's something decadent about the long days stretched out in front of us. The sunshine is warm on my skin. As a little girl, I was addicted to summer. It was when I felt safe, when I could stay up late with the blue-purple dusk stretched out into the sky, the sunset brushing the stars. It was when my cousins and I chased each other through the countryside, shrieking and happy and with no worries in the world. Summer has always been a saving time for me.
*
Sometimes, when the world is hurting around you and you feel scared and alone, it can help to remember that there are people out there.
 
I was at a party and the world was spinning. I was scared and I talked to a guy we'd just met and he said "It's going to be fine." We'd never met before-he and my friend had known each other a lifetime ago-but he put his hands on my shoulders and said "It's going to be fine."
He took the time, and even when the spinning was over and he'd quoted Shrek to calm all of us down, he let me cry and hold onto his arm, just to be nice. I hugged him and like an idiot and because I'd never see him again, I gave him a kiss and blabbered on that he was a good person and that he should be proud of that and that we could all remember that when things were bad. He touched my hair and said "I hope it's a good memory."
 
I'll probably never see him again, but it's easier to know that there are people out there who'll help when it feels like the world can make your heart stop.
*
At the moment, I'm curled up on the couch, looking out into the too-warm evening dusk, watching Lead Balloon, which is achingly funny, and criminally underrated, and  I'm thinking. Right now, I'm not worrying. Right now, it seems as if things might work out right.