More than Writers

I doubt if this universal law is confined to schoolteachers, but it is common knowledge amongst those mad enough to be sent out as a verification process for the parable of the sower, that by the end of term, your ability to use words with more than one syllable is…in Ofsted speak…a word with four syllables. One is then plunged into, say, a family holiday. Day one is travelling and putting up a tent. Enough said. Day two, you may have your eyes open, and words may form, but someone has found the automaton switch. You are your avatar. But some time on Day three, maybe by 5.30pm, glass of something in hand, your soul comes tapping at the door ‘Remember me? Can I come in?’ and you remember what it is to be signed up to the human race. I was a teacher for zillions of years.  Now six years into retirement, and yet this morning, I realised I had succumbed to ‘pressure’, as a writer! My heart rate was slightly raised, and I’d become organically linked to my laptop. And if not on a lapto...

My photo of Virgina creeper, Penshurst Place, October 2024 I think I like the ‘in between’ seasons best, the transitional seasons of spring and autumn. Spring is my favourite: I love the light returning after winter, the explosion of new electric greens in field and hedgerow, the delicate lace of blossom and its exquisite sent, the earth bursting back into life again. Spring is the season of resurrection and hope. But autumn is beautiful too – the glorious medley of scarlet, crimson, orange, yellow, copper, ochre, bronze. There is a special quality to autumn sunshine: sometimes watery pale, sometimes deep gold. I often feel wistful while watching the peach-golden light of an autumn sunset. The past can haunt me then … past decisions, past mistakes, past losses, what could have been, what was. Once I went for a walk during a time of great emotional turmoil and the scarlet of the October leaves was almost physically painful to witness – they were the colour of blood, which summed u...

Picture credit: Author’s own  I spent Saturday evening at the West End show ‘Every Brilliant Thing’, starring the comedian, Sue Perkins. Lenny Henry has now replaced Sue for the next run. It was a fabulous night out on the town. And why wouldn’t it be? What’s not to love about a monologue on the theme of suicide ? All the ingredients for a right old chortle, surely? Well, it was amazing, and yes, we laughed out loud during a monologue about suicide. The tickets were a gift from our daughter for my wife’s birthday, and I hadn’t checked out what we were going to see. All I really knew was that Sue Perkins was in it, so during our pre-show drink, I had a quick Google to narrow down what it was all about. Would I have proactively booked to see a monologue about suicide? I think I might go with probably not . After all, Mrs Smart missed Strictly for this. Here’s the thing though. As we laughed, the humour opened pathways in our psyche to learn and reflect and to have compassion f...

The Christian Writers Conference in Cambridge is something we really look forward every year. This time, we booked in for both days, Friday 19th and Saturday 20th September 2025, so that we could get the most out of the whole event, not wanting to miss any of it. We also booked in for an early arrival at the hotel where we were staying, with a view to getting there in plenty of time, having lunch and taking a nice steady drive to the conference, so that we could be there in time for the start, at 2.30. We were doing well; the traffic wasn’t too bad and the sun was shining. I even took some lovely photos of the white feather shaped clouds from the car.    The music was playing quite loudly and although John had the Satnav on his phone, I also had made a mental note of the route, and soon became aware that John wasn’t slowing down, or even in the right lane to take the exit to Cambridge. As we drove on, I politely told him that we should have turned off there, but it d...

  All Things Shiny New by Gillian Poucher Summer term had barely ended when my daughter e-mailed a list of items needed for the new school year. I’ve grown accustomed to e-mailed shopping lists, but sometimes question the practicality or need for all items.   ‘A handbag?’ I said to myself, channelling Lady Bracknell. ‘A handbag?’ I made face-to-face enquiries. ‘Wouldn’t a rucksack be better, just like you’ve always had? How will a handbag fit folders and books, lunch box and water bottle?’ My daughter explained patiently that in Year 10, handbags are the norm. Many of her friends already had one in Year 9, and she had held back asking. There would be enough room. I duly ordered the bag and other items. Two weeks into term, and the handbag seems to have capacity – though I still eye it dubiously, and find myself gazing nostalgically at some of the younger children carrying their rucksacks… My more substantial summer purchase was a new laptop.   I’d postponed this for...

 Do you ever wonder if your words have any impact, or question if anyone is even reading? Especially when you share your writing online, it can be difficult to know the impact it’s having. However, as Christian writers, that’s where faith comes in. We release our words and allow God to use them as he chooses – and sometimes he does in the most unexpected ways.       I thought I’d share an encouraging true story this month. While not directly related to writing, I hope you are heartened in your writing journey by this example of God at work:       A young man was working as a door-to-door salesman, and he went to the house of an elderly lady. In the course of the conversation, the lady shared the Gospel with him. (Sidenote: what an amazing way to deal with door-to-door salespeople – if they’re interested it’s a wonderful opportunity and if not, I’m guessing they’ll leave pretty quickly!)       In this case, the lady c...