One Minute With…Me

I am following a set of questions asked to an author in yesterday’s ‘I’. I confess it was the questions and the possibility of a blogpost rather than her answers that I paid attention to. Sometimes reading the answers just makes me feel how far away I am from all that authors pursue.

Where are you now and what can you see?

Do you know what? I am not going to switch the webcam on and give you a panoramic view of where I am. I am in the kitchen. If you knew me, that would say it all. The husband has bagged the spare room for his stay-at-home office. I have set up office on the kitchen table with leads tripping people up. The kitchen table was never really a communal eating place so don’t worry. The table has my artwork scattered on it. A bookshelf to my right could do with a tidy up. Gradually all the dining room chairs have books and art stuff on them. It is not a place of serenity, but I think I like my mess.

There is a tree outside the window with a birdfeeder that the big black crows plunder when it is full. There is a garden and a patio, neither of which is weed free. There is a shed mimicking the leaning tower of Pisa. The roof is minus the felting thanks to strong winds. There’s no washing on the line due to the ‘samson pegs’ not living up to their namesake.

What are you currently reading?

I am actually reading Pope Francis’ book ‘The Power to Change’. I am not a Roman Catholic, though there are some that would say once is always. He is not writing the book as a Roman Catholic pronouncement on anything. It is just what he thinks personally. I am reading through a chapter on politics. He is too reasonable for any politician to listen. He talks about the global impact of political decisions.

Other books? On my kindle (Pope Francis is on my phone) I am reading ‘The Broken Kingdoms: Book 2 of the Inheritance Trilogy.’ I read book 1 as university reading on epics. I am looking forward to being told how it is an epic. Book 2 is OK so far. I’m nor feeling on the side of anyone yet, but it’s early days.

Who is your favourite author and why do you admire them?

It was Dick Francis and then Felix took over. I liked the way Francis opened his stories. There was always a sharp hook. I also like that mostly in the end the bad people got punished. Mostly. I seem to remember one book where the bad person got let off. My husband was a part of the racing world for a while. Short enough to be a jockey, he wasn’t. He managed betting shops, for which an earnest friend insists he has been forgiven. I have a usual lucky 15 bet on a Saturday morning so I have gleaned a little knowledge of horseracing.

Lee Child is another favourite, although the body count in the Reacher novels is too much and he seems to be losing his sense of morality and humanity. Again, Lee Childs has stepped aside and the new fellow doesn’t impress.

Describe the room where you usually write.

It’s the kitchen. If I’m writing letters to my sister it’s usually a café. I liked Nero’s once upon a time and I have a rewards card. They used to play classical music which was nice to write to. The wooden floors, the hiss of the coffee machine and the invitations to dogs to come in have made it less a choice. There is also the guilt of staying past my allocated hour. Who can write a letter to a beloved sister in an hour?

There are times when I can write in the living room, when it’s tidy, which is not often. I have a large book I use as a table.

What fictional character most resembles you?

I once listened to an interview with Judi Dench and was surprised how much our paths followed one another for a while. I could have been her. But she is not fictional. It says something about the books I read that I can find no dopple-ganger. Eleanor Oliphant comes close in a sense. She is an awkward character that doesn’t quite fit. I am a bit like that. I don’t quite fit, although that has not stopped me trying to fit in. I have reached the age where I like the skin I am in, not so much physically, but definitely on a metaphysical level.

Who is your hero from outside literature?

That’s an easy one. My husband. I suspect he would still be my hero if he was someone else’s husband, though I probably would know him half as well, id at all. He is kindest man you can ever meet. He is generous. He tells jokes but never plays them on people. A little over weight which makes me feel fine about my extra pounds. What I like about himis how he works to find a way to make my dreams happen. He never called into question that I earned more than him or paid the bills. He doesn’t have that bread winner complex. He’s content to let me be the hunter of the two of us. He loves me and thinks I’m beautiful and since he is wearing new prescription glasses, I will take him at his word.