About Rhian Bowley

Author Archive | Rhian Bowley

This week I am mostly:

By on in blog, books, music, pictures, words, writing

Listening to: Little Trouble Girl, by Sonic Youth. I recommend everyone else does, too.

Excited about: Seeing Throwing Muses twice in September, both times with Tanya Donnelly performing too! I booked the tickets a week ago but still get thrills every time I remember it’s happening.

Why yes, I did wear a lot of flannel in the 90s. How astute of you.

Reading: have started three books & not settled on any of them as my main read yet. They are: The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, Joan Aiken, one of my favourites from school (I remember it being Extremely Dramatic when I was about seven, wolves nipping at carriages in the snow).
The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, Neil Gaiman, which I’ve had waiting since Ruth & Clara & I saw Sir Gaiman at the Peacock Theatre last year. The Hempstocks have just been introduced. Porridge, ponds & the second sight – they remind me a bit of my fortune-telling Nan.
Bitterblue, Kristin Cashore, which I bought for my mum for her birthday but have greedily kept for myself instead. This is a big hardback that I am too lazy to lug around, though, so I might let her have it after all & buy myself the Kindle version. I’ll miss the pretty maps inside the cover, but have a better chance of finishing it that way & I’m eager to return to Monsea.

Circling around: starting the next rewrite of my novel. At the moment I’m at the standing far away, prodding it with sticks, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation stage. I know I’ve been at this stage before, because I made this sign for myself last year:
Untitled

I’ve  launched a counter-offence against the draft-bomb by telling people I’m going to let them read it in August. THIS AUGUST. 2014. Gulp.  I have to gussy it up a lot before then. Which means this blog post gets  classified under Procrastination, and must be stopped…

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Bacon is the best reward

By on in blog, writing

 

brunswick again rsz

On Sunday, I finished the latest draft of my novel.

On Monday, I woke up early to write as usual – and stumbled, because I’d given myself the week off.

Since I was up anyway, and it the weather was so gorgeous as to be almost imaginary (gorgeousness I’d noticed only vaguely that weekend,  as I stayed indoors typing with the curtains drawn), I went outside.

I bought a bacon sandwich from my favourite cafe & stowed it, still warm, in my bag. I wandered through leafy St Ann’s Well Gardens, where a ley line ends and a hermit once lived in a cave,  then crossed down to Brunswick Square, pictured above. No one else was there yet.

I ate my breakfast with the sea and the grass and the birds and the flowers, and it was blissful.

Next week I’ll go back to the early morning typing and the wordcount and the angst, but this week my only goal is to do Other Things, guilt-free. I love writing, but I love having written best of all.

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“…but listen to the colour of your dreams”

By on in blog, colour, music, writing

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The Belle Game: Wait Up For You

By on in blog, music

What I need this morning is a bath full of coffee.

While that’s running (‘Jeeves! Draw me a tub of espresso, there’s a good man.’), this rousing indie from the Belle Game will help me slowly blink awake.

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