29th’s the Charm

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Oh boy! It’s my boy’s birthday today. Happy birthday, Birthday Boy.

I’m Hormoanal

My sincere intention to blog weekly fell by the wayside due to ongoing health issues (annoying but not calamitous); but this is something I must share:

My first* collection is published tomorrow, February 7th, by Matthew James Publishing.

*Ever the optimist

According to MJP, my 

signature biting wit and incredible relatability will have you laughing one minute and sympathising the next.

I can live with that. And with this, in particular: 

This collection of sharp, confident, and witty feminist poetry is the voice of the everyday woman putting the world to rights and deserves to be read by everyone.

Definitely!

To celebrate its publication, I’m having a book launch at Stockport War Memorial Art Gallery on Saturday 9th, from 2-4pm, to which every single person I know or have ever known is invited. (I’m also hosting a free writing workshop beforehand, but I’m sad/happy to report that it’s fully booked.)

MJP have made two of my dreams come true: ‘Publish a book’ has finally been crossed off my bucket list, but a long held desire can now safely be admitted to: when studying A Level English at the local college back in 1998, I came across a video in the library on the sublime poet Grace Nichols. It followed her around as she did various things like readings and visiting interesting places, and there is a moment when she shows her passport at border control, and her occupation is described as ‘poet’. That moment resonated with me, such that I longed to be able describe my own occupation as ‘poet’.

Though I don’t claim to be in the same league as Ms Nichols, from tomorrow, I can.

Author copies! Did you know they give you some for free??

The book is lighthearted and accessible, especially to those with no interest in poetry.

I’m offering a free copy to the person who leaves the best menopause joke in the comments (closing date February 28th 2019). I’ll post to anywhere in the world. The Hub will judge, for two reasons: it’s fun to make him squirm; and he is notorious for barely cracking a smile at what I think is hilarious. If you can make him laugh, you win.

Finally, a taster: here’s the title poem:

Happy New Year

Not to you, dear reader – I’m two weeks late for that – but to just one dear reader…

…yes, Spud is 23 today! Happy birthday, Spud.

To celebrate, here’s some of your greatest hits:

 

23 years ago today, and Mummy was as roly poly then as she is now, but with more excuse…

Little punk

Love me, love the boy who thinks he owns me…

Brothers ‘n’ arms

Growing lad

So good looking

Family gathering

Release the hounds!

Glass funeral. No, seriously.

Brothers ‘n tired arms.

Soooo good looking.

I sing, therefore I am

Proud daddy

Sleeping beauty

Need I say more?

Shakespeare and pizza – who could ask for anything more?

Bert

Money, money, money. I’m an actor; I probably won’t see this much money again in one place in my lifetime.

How to rock headgear

All you need is a little razzmatazz!

Seriously – sooooo good looking

How I got here

 

And a little song to celebrate:

 

Not a birthday song, but one of my favourites by Alex and, let’s be honest, when I found out I was pregnant twenty-three years ago, I felt like dancing. Now I dance like felt.

Happy birthday, sweetie pie!