It’s been a rather exciting week. First up, my son FINALLY got his police clearance certificate so that he can now head off on his gap year. It took FOREVER which although irritating is a relief to know that British schools are concerned about letting undesirables look after their kids. We eventually got fed up with waiting and threw cash at the problem which is the South African way if you want anything done. (Contact https://www.govdocsmadesimple.com/ if you need a police clearance certificate. They are very reasonable and efficient).
So, one of my baby birds is about to leave the nest, and I’m hanging on to the other one with a white-knuckle-death-grip as I only have a few more months with her until she buggers off to varsity. Part of my hanging on consists of me going to watch her netball and waterpolo matches and cheering loudly and enthusiastically even though I do not know the rules and inevitably end up applauding fouls.
But you’ll be pleased to know, dear reader, that I DO NOT LET THIS DETER ME and I carry on cheering and making sure everyone is wearing sunblock. Yes, I am that mother that once applied sunblock to the entire Swimming Team at the daughter’s prep school while she writhed in agonies of embarrassment by the pool. It obvs paid off because she does have GORGEOUS skin.
I have also (as you know) come to the end of my quest to not get shitfaced for a year, and with that I realised I had completed about 66k words of a journal I had kept dealing with the ups and downs of my sober curious journey. I was about to say trip but realised that was perhaps a poor choice of words. Anyhoo, I’m not one to let good words go to waste so I approached a publisher mate of mine about perhaps turning it into a book and she said YES!!
Sounds like we’re now engaged.
No, I am not entering into a bigamous relationship with Jonathan Ball Publishing Director, Annie Olivier. But we will be intimately connected as she guides me through the process of wrestling my sixty-six thousand words into something people actually want to read. This is my first non-fiction book so I might not be SHIT-FACED but I am SHIT-SCARED because I want it to be GOOD.
I hope you realise, dear readers, that this book is ALL YOUR FAULT. I realised some time back that I enjoy rambling on about the trials and tribulations of my life, and some of you have been kind enough to read my witterings each week and have given me the encouragement which led to me having the confidence to imagine that perhaps I could write a memoir (like I said, YOUR FAULT.)
This new direction for my writing is not enormously surprising considering how obsessed I have become about reading memoirs lately (current read: On The Rocks by Thando Pato – beautifully written SA Quitlit.) Is this a symptom of menopause/covid brain? I am not sure, but I do lurrrrrve a good memoir. I read the memoir, then I watch the inevitable doccie and I find it massively entertaining. I was only half-joking about the menopause thing. I think it might be a symptom of aging that I am very interested in other people’s lives, especially rich lives, lives that have been lived fully, people who have behaved badly/gone through some STUFF but have come out the other side with the odd pearl – sometimes of wisdom, sometimes a necklace (DAD JOKE ALERT).
The upshot of the new book is that I will have to do a whole bunch of writing every week to meet my deadline so I will be taking a short break from writing this blog AND from social media (quelle horreur!) Yes, I won’t be able to spend hours and hours on Tiktok (no more hearing that my angel in heaven is proud of me for a while.) But if you were thinking that I won’t be pestering all of you to take selfies with me at bookish events, think again. This is a temporary break, I will STILL be taking selfies. Sorreeeeee.
Since I’ve been able to get Showmax in my lair, I have been binging on fab Brit Crime shows and doccies. First up: Honour – a two-parter about a girl who goes missing and how her horrible father and even more horrible uncle act like they know nothing, meanwhile we know they’re involved somehow. Next, The Pembrokeshire Murders with the very delish Luke Evans about serial killer, John Cooper and how the police nab him for his crimes. Both are based on true cases (WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE REAL LIFE STUFF?? RIVETING).
The husband and I also started watching Smother – a lovely Irish detective limited drama series – it starts off at the protag’s 50th birthday party where her husband makes the shock announcement that he and his wife are splitting and later said husband is found dead. Watch it not only to find out whodunnit but also for the gorgeous, sweeping shots of the Irish coastline (PSA: can we please start putting money into series that showcase SA??)
On the documentary front, I watched Untouchable about the unspeakable Harvey Weinstein, and Epstein’s Shadow about Ghislaine Maxwell – which removed any pity I felt for her – she was Jeffrey’s partner in crime for sure.
The Paris Apartment by Lucy Foley. Lovely, twisty psych thriller set in gorgeous Paris in a v goth apartment block. Lucy comes up with these ingenious plots and her settings are definite characters in her books. Thank you, Helen Holyoake and Exclusive Books for my copy. Speaking of Exclusive’s, the Rosebank branch has moved to a fab new spot in Rosebank Mall. Do pop in and pay them a visit and if you haven’t picked up your copy of Chasing Marian yet, why haven’t you?
That’s it from me. Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye on my non-fiction journey. Happy reading until we meet again! xxx