Category: Fodderblog

This time last week I was stressing hard over a social event—specifically Reading Writers’ Novelist’s Day. It’s one of the group’s weekend events, where writers get to meet for a full day of discussion, critique and chat. Why was I stressed? Because I had, completely against my nature, agreed to host it at our house. Normally Casa Conojito is a refuge, a place TLC and I retreat to after the world is done with us. We don’t normally invite people we don’t know into the gaff. Let’s put it this way—party animals we ain’t.

However, the day went well. I think. I hope. It all flew past in a bit of a blur. But the five novelists and I were able to show our work, chat about the particular challenges inherent in writing a long-form project. There was even room for pastries and sausage rolls, so I’m calling it. A victory. I know I’m making a big deal out of a comparatively simple thing—Rob hosted a soirée, big whoop, hardly the Royal court at Versailles, is it?—but I felt proud and happy to have done something nice for my peers, share the garden I’m always banging on about and ultimately, spend time with people who get me. That really is worth shouting about.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Writer’s Strike is over. It was won with a stunning set of concessions from studios who had sought to belittle, gaslight and bully the people who provide them with their content. This is incredibly good news for the creative community as a whole, and brings back to life a heartening and essential truth—unions work. I hope to see a swift resolution to the Actor’s dispute, which will get everyone back to work—properly compensated and with fewer fears for the future.

However, as writer Gerry Duggan notes, there’s more to do yet, especially around the vexed question of AI. I’ll be interested to see if his tweak to the standard copyright notice has legs…

The battle is won, the war continues.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Lincolnshire was a revelation to us, a sign that this country is still full of beautiful surprises. The return to work was harsh, accompanied by strange weather, autumnal vibes mixed with summer sunshine. But the nights are definitely starting to draw in. I’m getting up in the dark again, which never ceases to be a struggle. The last of the tomatoes are harvested, stubbornly refusing to ripen. Green chutney it is, then. We’ll spend the weekend getting our little greenhouse prepped for autumn seed planting while tidying and cutting back ready for the cold times to come. Nearly spooky season.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

At what point, when you know a holiday is coming up, do you crack and get the cases down from the loft? At what point do you find yourself slowing down at work, losing focus on the task in front of you in anticipation the pleasures which await a little ways down the road? A couple of days? A week?

Oh, Readership, I am in that agreeable state. The back room is a mess of half-sorted packing. The day job is nothing but an irritation, each shift a ticking clock, a countdown, one more cross on the calendar. I swear, I might pitch up to the office on Friday in shorts and shades. I set the auto-response on email on Wednesday.

I have no idea what you’re getting next week. If it’s just a bunch of holiday snaps, I apologise in advance.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The pre-holiday Swipe.

This is the weekend we welcome tens of thousands of new friends to our town by the Thames. Reading Festival has been a Bank Holiday highlight for over fifty years, starting as a haven for rock fans before becoming the post-exam celebration/commiseration we enjoy today. From our house on the hill we can hear the headliners, and Caversham teems with bright-eyed younglings on an adventure. Come Monday, you often see the casualties slumped over one last coffee or pint, waiting for their rides back to the real world and a new start as college or university beckons. It’s a nice way to close out the summer, and part of the reason I love this town so much.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

I’m very careful not to call myself a sports fan. Ball games in particular leave me cold (a correlation to the terrible time the clumsy, short-sighted schoolboy Rob had during PE, shivering at the boundary or in goal, always picked last, missing every shot fired in my general direction).

However, TLC and I spent a great afternoon at the Diamond League athletics meet in Stratford last month. The UCI World Cycling Champs were a lock on the TV recently. And yes, we will be in front of a screen this Sunday cheering on the Lionesses.

Hmm. #notallballgames. Maybe I’m more interested than I thought. Just don’t ask me what football team I support.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Summer’s back! Well, at least for a bit. We’re maybe two weeks away from the August Bank Holiday, then all of a sudden the days will start closing in and the leaves will drop and you take a breath and it’s Autumn. Some of the pubs near me are already advertising their Christmas menus. Who knows where the time goes…

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Our greenhouse full of tomatoes is starting to bear fruit. I go out every morning now, checking to see if the little sweethearts will detatch neatly from the vine, or if they need a little longer. The scent on my fingers as I dig and pull is amazing: heady, heavy, dense and bright all at once. I’m growing four different varieties, including a dark purple plant called Chocolate Cherry which is a flavour bomb. Wish I could say the same for the cucumbers, which are all flower and nothing for the salad bowl. Blame the weird weather.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.