Finding my bookish self

I’ve been out of the blogging loop lately, focusing on a writing project which is going to keep me busy for the next couple of years.

However, there is lots going on in the world (earthquake, heatwave, violent death and political farce) but I’m choosing not to obsess about these subjects and am trying (not very successfully) to stop doomscrolling on Facebook and Instagram, which is a complete waste of time and just feeds massive egos and conspiracy theories and lines the pockets of the megarich.

And news websites and a constant diet of updates and cliches are leaving me cold.

The reading is going well, but not in terms of me writing reviews. I’ve had some real duds in recent months, which has been incredibly disappointing.

I had high hopes for The Calamity Club (2026), by Kathryn Stockett, the author of The Help (2009), but it wasn’t for me. I gave it two stars out of five.

I didn’t fare much better with Under Story. I devoured an earlier Chloe Benjamin novel, The Immortalists (2018), but really struggled with this new book, which comes out later in the year.

The very science-based science fiction of Under Story is sweeping in its ambition. Set in the hostile, surreal world of Antarctica, it’s essentially a love story with two central protagonists who take their time to reconnect.

It’s beautifully written but moves forward at too slow a pace for me. I gave it three stars.

Having encountered a reader’s block with new novels other people seem to adore, I had a bit of a book break and then started reading narrative nonfiction, if nothing else but to help with the current writing project, to see how it’s done when done well.

The last bit of nonfiction I read was probably The Salt Path (2018), billed as memoir, nature and travel writing and definitely not fiction. I gave up after two chapters because I liked neither the style nor the whining presence of the author, who irritated me from the start. Well, we all know how that book panned out. Maybe I am more discerning than I think.

I’ve done a bit of research and have started giving nonfiction another go. Mixed results but I completely fell in love with the Bruce Chatwin’s groundbreaking travel writing classic, In Patagonia (1977).

Similarly, The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder (2023) by David Grann is unputdownable, telling the true story of what happened when a naval vessel hit rocks off the South American coast in 1740. Piecing together the story through solid historical research and strong primary sources, Grann has produced a knockout of a book. I was hooked by it.

After failing to ‘get’ an award-winning memoir that had been recommended to me (too highbrow and about a wealthy family I didn’t care much about), I was delighted to then plunge into Great Uncle Harry: A Tale of War and Empire (2024) by Michael Palin, a writer who takes a family story and turns it into a search for answers in this compelling biography, travelogue and history book. Palin is such an empathetic and kind sort of a chap and his writing reflects his humanity.

I’m now reading two novels: A Gentleman in Moscow (2016) by Amor Towles (my day book) and the beautiful There Are Rivers In The Sky by Elif Shafak (2024), which I turn to at night because I have a back-lit Kindle so I don’t disturb Mr Grigg when he’s trying to sleep.

So, you can see I haven’t been completely idle in this ennui-inducing heatwave, which is turning us all into gibbering wrecks.

More from me later in the week, I think. In the meantime, if you have any narrative nonfiction recommendations, I’m all ears.

That’s about it.

Love, Maddie x

Taking a break

Just to let you know, the blog is taking a back seat for a while.

I’ve had lots of things going on and I’m currently knee-deep in work around the publication of new novel by an indie press. It’s due out in the autumn – more news to follow.

Have a lovely summer, and maybe catch up with you through posts on my Instagram and Facebook pages, although these will also be a bit sporadic over the coming months.

Love, Maddie x

In a galaxy far, far away…

We were sitting there, out in a French garden last Friday, listening to the sound of a midwife toad (look them up, they’re incredible).

(The noise they make is more like a scops owl, but it doesn’t show up on the Merlin bird app on my phone for the obvious reason that a toad is not a bird.)

Anyway, Mr Grigg began regaling the barbecue guests with a story about a very low aeroplane we’d watched in the sky one afternoon earlier in the week.

It went into a cloud and we had followed its trajectory, the two of us fully expecting it to come out the other side.

But it didn’t, which led me to suggest a Bermuda Triangle-type theory in which the plane used the cloud as a time and space portal to disappear into a different world.

I relayed this to the others, who were a bit non-plussed by this explanation, with one of them even humming the tune to The X-Files and another doing an impression of a cuckoo.

So I zoned out and gazed up at the night sky, which is my wont, while they discussed UFOs and other dimensions. In my own head, the theme music for Stranger Things was playing loudly, drowning out their scorn.

And that’s when I saw it, a long line of lights moving slowly towards the little full moon, which was about to appear above a tree.

I savoured the moment for a few milliseconds and then said calmly: ‘What’s that up there?’

All eyes turned to the sky. We watched this strange phenomenon for a minute or two as it traversed its night stage, seemingly on some otherwordly mission above our heads. We were transfixed.

By the time I took out my camera from my jeans pocket, the sight was dimming and so were my photography skills because I was so excited.

After the thing left our field of vision, silence ensued, followed by a feverish conversation about what we’d just witnessed.

It took me another five minutes to retrieve something from the back of my mind and to declare the thing we’d just seen was the Starlink satellite train. I’d heard about it once on the radio and had always wanted to see it, and now I had.

It’s operated by SpaceX, whose driving force is a strange man I do not like. I refuse to name him so my blog doesn’t get launched in to the outer atmosphere but just think of Batman gone bad and you’ll know who I mean.

That aside, we all rely on the internet these days, so the Starlink satellites have a job to do and, when you read up on it, you realise that there is so much in this world we do not understand.

And why am I telling you this? Because you need to know.

Also, the thing in the sky looked very like a Star Wars lightsaber moving gracefully across the universe. And as today is May the Fourth and I always put down my religion as Jedi on the census, I felt I needed to share that with you.

Have a great week.

Love, Maddie x

Let’s See What The Earth Has To Say

Today is Earth Day, an annual event aimed at supporting the environment.

But is it the day when individuals and companies can declare their love for the earth while ‘greenwashing’ their personal and corporate credentials?

Lordy, the problems facing the planet are massive and what can we, as little people, do to make a difference?

Well, we can cut down our consumption and go for renewables where possible. But all that is fraught with problems, paradoxes and gobbledygook. One man’s electric car utopia is another person’s complex environmental footprint.

Back during covid times, it was a terrible period for many. But some of us were living our best lives in glorious weather and with no vapour trails in the sky nor traffic on the roads.

Here’s a video by my friend Emma Gale, from her debut single Let’s See What The Earth Has To Say, written in and inspired by lockdown.

Back then we were all kind to each other, knowing our daily lives had changed massively.

But that love for one another didn’t last very long. Humans became angrier and nastier as a species, led by self-serving, arrogant politicians, many of whom were in it for their own gain.

We became cynical and mean about everything.

And still it continues. Callous and flippant put-downs, lies and an insatiable desire for personal wealth have become common currency for world leaders.

So, on Earth Day, how can we put our fragile planet at the forefront of everything we do?

Protest and lobby when and where we can (and when it’s safe to do so) but not through futile, silly arguments with acolytes of megalomaniacs. That way insanity lies.

The only thing I can suggest is to immerse ourselves in the natural world and and get out in the garden to plant and nurture something in peat-free compost. And teach our children (they could teach us a thing or two for sure) the importance of kindness, courtesy and care for others.

Earth Day feels so massive. But it’s about baby steps, small big things to make – and be – the change.

It’s the best we can do.

See you later in the week.

Love, Maddie x

In memory of Queen Elizabeth II

Her Majesty the Queen during a visit to HMS Ocean in Devonport in 2015.
Picture: Wikimedia Commons

It’s the late Queen Elizabeth II’s birthday today. She would have been one hundred years old.

There is a series of events in the UK marking this milestone, including an exhibition of hundreds of garments and related items belonging to Her Majesty.

I don’t think many of us think of the late Queen as a style icon, not in the way, say, of Princess Diana, whose leggy frame and passion for fashion sparked real trends.

Who can forget Di’s Emanuel ‘meringue’ wedding dress and its extra long train, which could indeed have had its own long train (like The Flying Scotsman) to transport it end-to-end?

Or the dazzling, figure-huggingly flattering and chic dresses she wore much later on?

When I picture the late Queen, I think of the block colour coats and matching hats from the 1960s and 70s, which on special occasions were de rigeur for women of my mother and mother-in-law’s generation. This is not surprising because they were both the same age as the Queen.

I’m guilty as the rest at underestimating the influence and effect the Queen’s choice of clothing had on generations of women.

5 June 1961 Buckingham Palace: Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip host Queen’s Dinner for President and Mrs. Kennedy. U. S. Department of State photograph in the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston.

HRH worked closely with favourite designers such as Norman Hartnell and Hardy Amies. There’s a fascinating article on The Independent’s website about our longest reigning monarch’s relationship with fashion and how the look she created was not at all accidental.

You can read it here. Queen Elizabeth II: Her Life in Style is at the King’s Gallery. Buckingham Palace, until 18 October.

The Queen died in September 2022 aged 96. She was the country’s longest-reigning monarch, chalking up an incredible 70 years.

As well as the exhibition, there are other things taking place to commemorate her life.

According to the BBC, today The King and Queen Camilla will visit the British Museum to view plans for the Queen Elizabeth II national memorial in St James Park in London designed by architect Sir Norman Foster.

Later in the day, they will host a reception at Buckingham Palace where guests will be presented with birthday cards by the King.

The Princess Royal will honour her mother by officially opening the Queen Elizabeth II Garden in Regent’s Park, London.

Buckingham Palace has also announced that award-winning historian Dr Anna Keay will write the the late monarch’s official authorised biography.

It’s fitting that these things are happening in honour of a woman who – whatever your views on the monarchy – had a great sense of duty and was devoted to her role.

A lasting legacy – and to my mind, the best way of celebrating this remarkable woman – is the creation of a new charity, The Queen Elizabeth Trust, which will focus on restoring shared spaces in communities.

The charity aims to develop and transform underused buildings and green spaces, as well as ensure that communities have the skills and training needed to organise local events, says the BBC.

Three cheers for that.

Here’s a very informative video produced to celebrate the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee. It draws on a rich selection of records held at The National Archives, including photographs, letters, and speeches, this film looks back at Elizabeth II’s extraordinary life and reign.