I still mourn the loss of the Committee for Guildable Manors. I sneaked it into the acknowledgements.

My last book had short sections between some of the chapters, mostly to do with the history of the setting, but with some hints about the actual story. We needed to lose 20k words and the most hotly-defended territory was in those sections.

I’m not adverse to a well-crafted footnote, mind, if the narrative structure allows. Always interesting from a perspective point of view!

Most of my students are writing in the speculative area, so we spend a lot of time on worldbuilding. So much is about justifying what the viewpoint character notices/thinks, without the constant ‘as you know, Bob, in this world…’ It’s the abnormal the character will naturally notice, not the norm.

I love this. I bang on endlessly to my students about perspective, and the difference between the character viewpoint and narrator structuring. Explanation and comment breaks immersion. A strong setting just…is. The Hookland pieces are such a good example. Is the quote from a longer work/article?

I had to find the manual release for ours this morning. I’d put some damp running kit in for a short dry, and the machine went on like I’d insulted its entire lineage and spat in its drawer, then sulked and refused to do anything but flash a pointed lock symbol at me. Arse of a machine.

I loved that book. I’ve still got it on my shelves. I did look at it while sorting out books recently and think I’d never seen anything else from her.

My sister in law, on the other hand, is now deeply confused about my wasps. Considering sending partner’s rowing updates to his mum, just so everyone is entirely up to speed.

I am now fully updated about what I am up to.

I remember going to a colleague’s house with my two older boys when they were little. When they discovered eating like this was an option, they both turned and looked at me, like ‘And you were going to tell us about this when?’ It was clear they thought forks had been imposed just to piss them off.

I had this exact conversation yesterday. My particular favourite is when they’re all ‘I’m dyyyyyyyying’ while thrashing about on the edge of the sill of the enormous open window. And you flick them out and they come back and resume their operatic demise. ‘Noooo, nothing to be done. Dyyyyying!’