We approach the New Year as if we’re trading in the old one for a better model, but it’s not like replacing a car. Or if it is, it’s with the old car rusting in the garage while we’re driving around in the new one, hoping the weather won’t tarnish its shine. Alas, a change of digit won’t cancel out our bad decisions – I’m looking at you Brexit and Trumpeteers – but it can provide the impetus to strive to fail better next time. While I think it’s weird that the traditional time for taking stock and recalibrating our intentions for the future should be now – rather than synchronised with the winter solstice the first day of spring (for those of us in the northern hemisphere) – I am sufficiently obsessional to join in.
All in all, it’s been a good year for me personally and professionally in my reading, writing and blogging. Here, in pictures (with links), are some of the highlights:
For next year, I’d be happy with more of the same (but with nicer politics). Specifically, I’m looking forward to the release of my second novel, Underneath, in May, with a couple more library events in Derbyshire for Sugar and Snails before the end of the current financial year. I want to pick up again on the article writing course which was part of my prize for the Writers’ Bureau Short Story Competition and has been shamefully neglected. I also have in mind at least five new short stories I want to write, as well as pulling a few together for a possible anthology loosely on the theme of identity. I want to move forward with Closure, perhaps completing a fourth draft but, if not, certainly a third. In my reading, I aim to monitor the proportion from small independent publishers. Finally, I hope to keep up with the weekly flash fiction challenges.
| Over at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills is talking both taking stock and hygge. The latter, a Danish term which conjures cosy, has captivated a fair few English-speaking thinkers in 2016 and now comprises the prompt for my final 99-word story of the year. I think we need a concept of home to appreciate hygge; my flash is for the introverts too: |  |
Yay, the party has been cancelled!
“You’re still welcome to come over, but I wouldn’t advise it. The roads are treacherous around here.”
Fog shrouds the window; inside, disappointment burns. Home alone on New Year’s Eve! Ah, well, I could use the time to write that article, scrub the kitchen floor.
In fluffy slippers, jogging pants and the blouse I ironed for the party, I dance between cooker and fridge. I pour a glass of Prosecco; a soup made of leftovers bubbles on the stove. Rolls crisping in the oven, the final challenge looms. Which book to snuggle up to, which chocolates to eat first?
“You’re still welcome to come over, but I wouldn’t advise it. The roads are treacherous around here.”
Fog shrouds the window; inside, disappointment burns. Home alone on New Year’s Eve! Ah, well, I could use the time to write that article, scrub the kitchen floor.
In fluffy slippers, jogging pants and the blouse I ironed for the party, I dance between cooker and fridge. I pour a glass of Prosecco; a soup made of leftovers bubbles on the stove. Rolls crisping in the oven, the final challenge looms. Which book to snuggle up to, which chocolates to eat first?
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