So, I’ve completed my first book for the readathon – and to be honest, I’m pretty proud of myself. I haven’t finished a book in two weeks since I was at school, and it’s nice to get that feeling of accomplishment even if the books was – and I’m being generous here – mediocre. This […]
I’m taking part in a readathon.
Did I know readathon’s existed before last year? No. Was that because I didn’t watch enough Booktubers? Probably.
Confession. I went into this book already obsessed with Matt Haig. I’ve read snippets of his writing before, I’ve followed him on Twitter, I narrowly missed the chance to see him read in Bath and all my friends from uni rate his writing. So – I went in with big expectations.
I was not disappointed.
‘Welcome to the beautiful Sinclair family. No one is a criminal. No one is an addict. No one is a failure.’
Why does that strike me as insincere?
A storytime blog about my first and one true love – James Bond.
I’m going to review the following novel on three chapters – and no more.
The Flatshare has a really fresh premise for a love story.
A dating service where matching is based on people’s search history exists. You’re a serial killer. You go on a date with a writer.
Posh, adjective. Meaning to do something in an ‘upper-class’ way, showing the qualities of elegance or smarts. Fleabag is none of these things. I’d end my argument here, but I’ve got a few more points to make.
I try to get myself in bed before half ten So I don’t hate myself In the morning. I make sure I brush my teeth. I shake out my pony tale and then Put it back. Sometimes I wash my face. The ginger Tom Cat spreads across my White cotton sheets, Like he fucking owns […]
An epic poem about Medusa, the ultimate feminist icon.