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Category Archives: Devon
Sunday
– is the day I never know what to do with – including writing grammatical sentences. It’s a hangover, I think, from early childhood when, once a week, the awful prospect of SUNDAY SCHOOL faced me. As if it were … Continue reading
Posted in biography, Desperation, Devon, Education, Humour, Life on the edge, Personal, Religion, Writers, Writing, Young Adult
Tagged Humour, Religion
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What I was watching when I should have been (re)writing…
Martyn and I took a stroll down into Dawlish yesterday and look what we saw… a monochrome study but for the red beaks. There are now at least six adult black swans on Dawlish Water – and three nests, one … Continue reading
Posted in Contemporary Women's Fiction, Devon, Fiction, Greek Islands, Humour, new writing, Personal, Writing
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Performance art in Torbay – The Tale
It was much more than that. For three weeks in September The Tale took its mobile audience through memorabilia, sea trips, promenade and venue based performance art, sound installations and the spoken word provided by the young people of Torbay. … Continue reading
Posted in Art, Devon, Personal
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Wasn’t what I was looking for…
Went for an early morning walk for inspiration this morning (up on the cliff is the apartment block where I live). The waves were significant – magnificent! There was seaweed everywhere, driftwood, two dead jellyfish and other marine life body … Continue reading
Posted in Devon, Life on the edge, Personal, Writing
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Deathly mist driftin’ Daw-lishwards, m’dears
Don’t look too bad, do it? But t’were a darkly time on the number eleven trundling back from the bright Spring sunshine o’ Torquay to the darkling world o’ Dawlish. We were going’ along fine an’ happy like, right up … Continue reading
Posted in Contemporary Women's Fiction, Desperation, Devon, Humour, Life on the edge, Personal, Writing
Tagged Lynne McVernon, Mummerset, murder most foul, new novel, Women writers
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I LOVE TEIGNMOUTH!
Last week, browsing in W H Smith, I heard someone singing – not humming – singing Diamonds Are Forever. Not the usual W H Smith experience. Paying for my newspaper, I asked the lady manager if she was the singer. … Continue reading
