Happy 2nd birthday, blog!

Looking Back at Cuttings and Proteas: a log entry about growth and development Two years and 217 posts ago the BeadedQuill blog was born. On 15th June 2013, after decades of hiding my fiction writing in notebooks, I decided to share it with the wider world. To my 123 signed-up blog followers, I say a

104 Poems

The 2×52 project developed in April 2013 when I committed to posting two poems a week for a year. I completed my self-made creative challenge this April when I revealed the 104th poem. Next month (June 2014), all the poems will be available in a book at my Blurb bookstore. In the meantime, here are the 104=2×52 poems listed in all their glory! And for your convenience, so

BeadedQuill to Make Public Appearance

I am excited (and a little nervous) to announce that next week on Wednesday, Feb. 26th I shall be reading at Lauderdale House, in Highgate. Tickets are £5 per person/ £3 concessions. There will be four poets reading. Proceeds from the evening will be donated to Lauderdale House’s renovation project. In short: Poetry reading at Lauderdale

Happy 1st birthday to my 1st published book

It’s been a whole year since the first draft of my first published book arrived in the post for my perusal. It was thrilling to see a long-held goal manifested. My Facebook profile was plastered with gratuitous proud mum pics of me holding up my copy of “Shining in Brightness”. I had hoped my first book

Today

Today was the Friday I ate only toast. 7 slices. 4 with honey; 3 with peanut butter a few broccoli florets raw and an anchovy from the tin. I drank green tea, black tea and one cup of coffee poured from the cafetiere. I set out to typeset a book – and now it’s worse

Productivity Times Four

It’s been a busy two weeks on the writing front. In addition to preparing two articles, one on the gap year in my twenties and another on overseas work experience in my thirties, I’ve continued to make the regular poetry posts on this blog. Item three is the most exciting. On Tuesday, my second book

A poem about scales

The flame is a scale held to the light. It flickers in petition. It bids us to reignite some salacity already gutted from our life. red herring — Yes, that last line is akin to a title. I remembered that Debussy does likewise in his Préludes. At the moment I am swimming with the red herrings.