It's not that easy, being a writer.
Sometimes, you just want to face-plant your goddamn laptop.
I've had a frustrating couple of weeks, writer-ness-wise.
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Warning: this post discusses terminal illness and Ableism
I watched a normal-looking woman on The One Show sofa, sitting next to the actor Jason Isaacs, and talking about her memoir being turned into a movie (starring, oddly enough, Jason Isaacs.)
(The One Show - for those of you who aren't British - is a Big Deal™.)
Something about her - the woman, Raynor Winn - seemed... off.
But then, I try not to judge too much based on brief interviews - I don't know these people, y'know?
Sometimes people seem off - not least when they're not TV people, and suddenly find themselves talking to the nation in the prime-time flagship slot (Lord knows, that would def. make me seem off!)
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Since my To-Be-Read (TBR) list is continually growing, from time to time I like to throw together a list focussing on some of the (often diverse) titles on there.
Warning: grief, death, serious illness, mental health issues, general trauma
I've always loved Christmas.
But Christmas? It hasn't treated me so well. Especially the whole lead-up-to part of Christmas.
In 2023, my father had brain surgery a few days before Christmas - that was stressful (he's OK now, mostly.)
My grandfather died not long before Christmas in 2018.
Eleven years ago, my other grandparents died at Christmas within four days of each other. We had a double funeral.
...That still wasn't the worst Christmas of my life.
This poem was originally published in the The Brain Is A Noodle publication on Medium, in response to the prompt 'coping by producing' from the lovely Lucy Dan
Today Hurts
‘Now don’t drown in your tears, babe
Push your head towards the air’
— The Editors, Push Your Head Towards The Air.
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| Image by Lucija Rasonja from Pixabay |
A writer is not replaceable — each voice is their own.
A writer is not tameable — each is wild, each answers the call the way that they must.
A writer is not something definable, not something that an algorithm can create, not someone who can be easily pushed aside, not a simple money-making cog, not someone who exists to generate a profit for Capitalism’s insatiable beast.
A writer is someone you pay — art is not a disposable item; writers need to eat.
Warning: brief references to grief/loss and mental health problems
Yes! Dora Reads is now eleven years old.
...Somehow I've made it this far!
This poem was first published in the publication The Brain Is A Noodle on Medium, in response to the prompt "It'll feel easier in the morning" from the lovely Lucy Dan 蛋小姐.
Dawning
‘Day’s dawning, skin’s crawling
Pure morning
Pure morning’
— Placebo, Pure Morning
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| Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay |
Sh**'s messed up.
...Like, it's been messed up for a while, I know. But our current level of 'historical' is feeling more like 'biblical' (in terms of scale, rather than religion,) every day.
It's one thing on top of another on top of another.
I came across a blogpost I wrote in 2018 where I was like 'the world is bad at the moment,' ...and I genuinely can't remember what I was talking about. That was 2 years before 2020, and none of us really know what normal is any more.
Maybe, five to ten years from now, I'll look back and think, 'what was I complaining about in 2025?' but I really hope not.
Against that backdrop then, I, like many people, have mental health problems. And have for 10+ years at this point.
And it's f**king tough.
So to all of those with mental health problems, or anyone struggling, right now - this is a shout out to you.
...which probably isn't that surprising.
Warning: this post contains discussions of drugs and addiction, and brief references to one of the most notorious scenes in IT (the child sex scene.)
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Stephen King
- or so the meme goes -
did not write Stephen King's IT
- he co-wrote it, alongside IT's primary author:
Cocaine.
Warning: brief reference to feeling suicidal, discussions of pointlessness, grief, mental health, existentential dread, and all the things that make up the general sh**ty state of the world.
Things have been tough for me, lately.
When you lose someone you love... it's damned hard.
Everything feels pointless - if that can happen to them, then what is the point of anything?
What's the point of writing a blogpost? What's the point of writing anything?
And since my purpose in this life is to read and to write... if I can't find the point of that, then what's the point of me?
(...I'm actually an optimist, if you can believe that. I just have mental health issues, and have been through some tough sh**.)
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**Please only use my affiliate links for .COM purchases, as I do NOT earn from other Amazon sites**
Since my To-Be-Read (TBR) list is continually growing, from time to time I like to throw together a list focussing on some of the (often diverse) titles on there.
Warning: this post refers to the bad things that happen on the internet; wide variety of topics, be careful!
The internet is fragmenting...
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Warning: this post discusses and/or references panic attacks and Anxiety, murder, grief, forced marriage, and systemic failings
There are also some (mild) SPOILERS for Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.
I recently found myself re-reading Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.
[Warning: this post discusses mental health problems and grief]
Look, I've been through some stuff lately, and it's definitely affected me.
My mental health has not been good for the last 10+ years, and now, after losing my mother in February... my head has given me a whole bunch of Very Bad Days lately.
I can't bring myself to go into details, but... it was hell. As a family, we've been through absolute hell since October 2024.
[Content Warning: brief references to death, cancer, grief, and mental health issues.]
For those who don't know, my mother passed away from cancer in February.
Things were pretty awful, generally, at the end of 2024 and the beginning of 2025.
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| Image by Christine Sponchia from Pixabay |
