In search of the lightning strike

Most first-person pieces on dating end neatly (‘and I quit all the apps one Sunday and met my husband on the Tuesday’, or ‘I have decided to stay single, I now devote my life to rescuing orphaned goats*, and I’ve never been happier’) and frankly, so they should. The general rule of writing is: take… Continue reading In search of the lightning strike

Lines that linger

I love a linguistic earworm. Lines and phrases that aren’t necessarily poetic in themselves, but are delivered in such a way that they ring in your head long after they’ve been uttered, and embed themselves into the folds of your brain for all eternity. Comedy is great for this – in fact, I’d venture that… Continue reading Lines that linger

Risotto: a love letter

  I love the significance we ascribe to food, the memories certain dishes evoke. Most of mine take me back to Granny’s kitchen: the smell of frying bacon will always put me by her Aga on a crisp blue winter’s morning; whenever I eat shortbread, I can see her taking a pale gold slab out… Continue reading Risotto: a love letter

Lines on lust

The thing about being both insecure and perhaps a touch self-involved is that when someone sends you a 4,000-word email explaining what they think of you, you find it more compelling than creepy. I received one such missive fairly recently, and it contained – among a host of other wildly incorrect things – a line… Continue reading Lines on lust

On the good side

Not much happens out of the blue. The snakes of lightning across one’s vision before a migraine, the same argument verbatim every few weeks before a break-up, the sudden dread when you know someone’s about to break unwanted news – signs, more often than not, are there in plain sight. I’ve been thinking a lot… Continue reading On the good side

Benign self-destruction

Last week, I sent and received this picture four or five times, my dearest girlfriends and I all marvelling at the unapologetic glamour and insouciance. None of us have won an Emmy – never mind four of them (yet, anyway) – but we all recognised the feeling. The deep exhale, the giddy pleasure of a… Continue reading Benign self-destruction