Thank you, Norah Colvin, for another blogging award. Versatile isn’t a word I’d readily use to describe myself but, if Norah thinks this blog qualifies, I’ll happily accept.
The Versatile Blogger Award asks recipients to thank their sponsor (done that), nominate another fifteen blogs (that might take some time, but I’ve started the ball rolling below) and tell everyone seven things about yourself. I’m sure I read somewhere it’s supposed to be seven interesting things; fortunately, Norah hasn’t set the barrier as high as that. I thought I’d take it as an invitation to illustrate the extent and limitations of my versatility, and have a bit of fun along the way. Some of these even come in multiples of seven.
The Versatile Blogger Award asks recipients to thank their sponsor (done that), nominate another fifteen blogs (that might take some time, but I’ve started the ball rolling below) and tell everyone seven things about yourself. I’m sure I read somewhere it’s supposed to be seven interesting things; fortunately, Norah hasn’t set the barrier as high as that. I thought I’d take it as an invitation to illustrate the extent and limitations of my versatility, and have a bit of fun along the way. Some of these even come in multiples of seven.
As for my nominees, I’m paying the complement forward to Geoff LePard who, since taking up blogging at the end of April, has posted a mammoth 36 times (yes I counted, but don’t blame me if there’s another half-dozen before I get this up on my site) on writing, recipes and his dad’s wartime love letters; to Ali Bacon who’s been at it for years, but still manages to come up with interesting and different things to say about writing; to Linda Daunter, for being able to draw and paint as well as write; to Jenny Lloyd for entertaining campervan travels and Welsh folklore; to Sarah Brentyn for her rants about parenting and contributions to Charli Mill’s flash fiction challenge. Given that several of my other favourites (including Charli) had already been bagged by Norah, and I might want to celebrate a different batch of bloggers from the ten I nominated for the Liebster, I’m giving myself a bit more time to come up with the other ten.
One of the things I discovered when I was nominated – thanks again, Norah – for the Liebster, was that I wasn’t the only one to be ambivalent about these awards. For another of Norah’s nominees, it’s the conditions of acceptance and passing it on; there’s also the mismatch between the Brownie-badge element of blog awards and my elevated (grandiose?) ambitions for my writing. For me, the fun outweighs the negatives, but it’s good to know there’s now a way of marking your blog as an award-free zone if it’s really not for you.
While I’m truly grateful for my nominations, I certainly agree that it’s the comments and connections that keep me at it. There’s such a supportive community bloggers linking up through things like #WWWBlogs, #MondayBlogs and now #ArchiveDay on Twitter and writing challenges hosted on various blogs. One such is Lisa Reiter’s (another of Norah’s venerable versatile blogger nominees) bite-size memoir challenge. Although I’m not so keen on memoir, I’ve joined in when I can, and I’ve very much enjoyed the ensuing debate. This week’s prompt on camping sparked a lot of memories I could run with, but what clinched it was Norah’s post, in response to Charli’s latest flash fiction challenge (sorry if these interactions seem tangled, but that’s partly my point), on Life: a choose your own adventure – how do you choose? I hope you can see the connection:
While I’m truly grateful for my nominations, I certainly agree that it’s the comments and connections that keep me at it. There’s such a supportive community bloggers linking up through things like #WWWBlogs, #MondayBlogs and now #ArchiveDay on Twitter and writing challenges hosted on various blogs. One such is Lisa Reiter’s (another of Norah’s venerable versatile blogger nominees) bite-size memoir challenge. Although I’m not so keen on memoir, I’ve joined in when I can, and I’ve very much enjoyed the ensuing debate. This week’s prompt on camping sparked a lot of memories I could run with, but what clinched it was Norah’s post, in response to Charli’s latest flash fiction challenge (sorry if these interactions seem tangled, but that’s partly my point), on Life: a choose your own adventure – how do you choose? I hope you can see the connection:
Perhaps it was for want of showers and hot water that there were only two occupied pitches in a field with space for twenty. Nestled between the mountains: me, my dad and brother in the orange ridge tent; a lone woman in the blue igloo. A sole woman camper: we’d never seen the like.
Grown-up to grown-up, my dad managed the initial chitchat at the water tap, such as it was. But in the whitewashed toilet block, I had to confront this strange creature by myself. Bare-breasted, splashing cold water under her arms; she seemed at ease with her odd predicament, as if there were nothing untoward.
Looking back, it’s hard to find my teenage role models, any heroines other than in books. That woman extended my sense of what was possible and, although I’ve only done it once, it’s thanks to her I’ve dared go camping alone.
Struggling with the gap between my abilities and the sentiment I wanted to express, I was on the point of giving up on this week’s challenge, when I read Jenny Lloyd’s latest post. Independent, going her own way, she was just like the lone female camper who inspired me as an only-just teenager, even when I wasn’t ready to be inspired. Awards aside, connecting through blogging can really get those synapses firing. You never know where it’s going to take you next.
Happily, I do know where this blog is going next: I’m posting a review on Thursday of a novel, though not about camping specifically, that explores what happens when a quirky family and a few of their friends go on holiday as a group. If you’re interested, you can subscribe to this blog by email via the sidebar, and never miss a post.
Grown-up to grown-up, my dad managed the initial chitchat at the water tap, such as it was. But in the whitewashed toilet block, I had to confront this strange creature by myself. Bare-breasted, splashing cold water under her arms; she seemed at ease with her odd predicament, as if there were nothing untoward.
Looking back, it’s hard to find my teenage role models, any heroines other than in books. That woman extended my sense of what was possible and, although I’ve only done it once, it’s thanks to her I’ve dared go camping alone.
Struggling with the gap between my abilities and the sentiment I wanted to express, I was on the point of giving up on this week’s challenge, when I read Jenny Lloyd’s latest post. Independent, going her own way, she was just like the lone female camper who inspired me as an only-just teenager, even when I wasn’t ready to be inspired. Awards aside, connecting through blogging can really get those synapses firing. You never know where it’s going to take you next.
Happily, I do know where this blog is going next: I’m posting a review on Thursday of a novel, though not about camping specifically, that explores what happens when a quirky family and a few of their friends go on holiday as a group. If you’re interested, you can subscribe to this blog by email via the sidebar, and never miss a post.
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