My Response To The Daily Mail’s Hatchet Job On Mum Bloggers…

Oh you rotters. You’ve done it again. Not content with degrading The Labour Party and the International Development community, you’ve turned your hateful attentions to us mum bloggers, singling out The Unmumsy Mum & Hurrah For Gin for extra detention. You call us ‘slapdash’ and ‘patronising’ to those who feel fulfilled as mothers. You accuse us of pimping out our…

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‘Mummy Porn’: Why I Push The Barriers Of ‘Happily Ever After’

I hate the term ‘Mummy Porn’… It belittles what I do. It somehow implies that I spend my days and evenings sweating over my laptop like some dirty old man and his stash of magazines. Nor am I a sex maniac who uses her writing as an outlay from some serious frustration (although I’m sure Matt would be delighted if…

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The Best Of Times, The Worst Of Times: Charles Dickens, My Grandfather & Me

My grandfather loved Charles Dickens. His favourite book was ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ and I remember him reading me passages from it as a child. Sadly, he and my grandmother passed away recently. Their house is in the process of being sold and I’ve been helping mum sort through their belongings I came across my grandfather’s Charles Dickens collection last…

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“I had nothing to lose and sometimes that makes you brave enough to try.”

There are two things that unite all writers regardless of genre – crippling self-doubt and rejection. And it doesn’t matter how brilliant you are, you WILL be rejected by someone. Perhaps by agents and publishers, followed by critics and then the ones who really matter – the readers. But what if rejection starts before then? Writing is hard. It takes courage,…

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Workspace, shmurkspace

Someone asked me what my writing space was like the other day… ‘MWAH HA HA!’ I cried, trying not to spit my tea across the room, ‘what writing space??’ I’m lucky if I can find my laptop amidst a sea of crap. Still, in the spirit of magnanimity, I have posted a picture of said area to appease said friend…

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My name’s Catherine and I’m a bookaholic

I saw a funny cartoon online yesterday. It depicted a bleary-eyed woman emerging from her crumpled bed sheets captioned, ‘The morning after the book before’. I actually laughed out loud, not least because I AM that woman who gets so addicted to a book that I can’t put it down. Because of this I have to ration my prose. And god help…

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Writer’s Block: A six-song remedy

It’s been a funny old week. Our political system has descended into anarchy, the smirk’s been smacked off Boris’ face, Tom Hiddleston’s plummeted from hero to zero and I’ve been laid up with a particularly nasty bout of Writer’s Block.

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