Nicky Bond's Blog, page 43

Ken and Agatha - Together at Last...

I've done that thing that I never do. The thing for which I pay a monthly fee so I can go as often as I like, but then never bother. I've done it twice this week too. Sorry, what's that? The gym? THE GYM?? Don't be so ridiculous. As if! No, you silly billy. It's the cinema, innit. 

My Cineworld Unlimited card doesn't know what's hit it recently. At around £17 a month, it's funded my viewing of four films in the past couple of years. A record! For a long time it was only Spotlight. But the...

Who Do I Think I Am? Part 2...

A few weeks ago I dangled a tantalising carrot. If you've forgotten, clearly my attempts at building suspense were rubbish. Or perhaps you've just blocked it out. If you want to reacquaint yourself, then read Who Do I Think I Am? Part 1. If you want a shorthand version, here goes... In three weeks time I am going to Canada to retrace the steps of my paternal Grandad who died twenty five years before I was born. I left you all hanging as to why.

Ok, so now we're all up...

Calling All Stattos...

(Before I even begin, I'm having a mental debate about the correct pluralisation of Statto. I've gone with Stattos because it's a name, but it still feels that Stattoes might not be wrong either. Happily, there's no call for a possessive or an omissive apostrophe, so that's good news.)
Anyhoo. Let's move on to the business in hand. It's one for the number nerds today. 
Please insert the missing
 S at your convenience.I am not a fan of numbers. I realise that's a fairly broad statement...

Mindhunter, I Hate to Love You...

I have no pictures of speeding
cars or sexy dads. Just
crisp-based meals.There are times when doing something that isn't technically right, makes it all the more appealing. You know the kind of thing, nothing too dodgy, but not ideal behaviour either. Speeding on an empty motorway. Eating an evening meal that consists mostly of crisps. Having a crush on a mate's dad. We've all been there. We all know the thrill of the wrong. It can be intoxicating.
But let's pause proceedings for a moment...

Baby, It's Cold Outside...

Nigel Slater writes in his Christmas Chronicles (2017) 'You either 'get' the cheer of winter or you don't.' I could not agree more. We have finally moved away from the time of year I found most oppressive. No more sneezing, sweating or slathering on sun cream because someone's invited you to sit in their garden, rather than utilise the far comfier seating of their lounge. I cannot stand the Summer. The happy news is, of course, that Summer is over. Hurrah and huzzah. 


The absolu...

Who Do I Think I Am? Part 1...

If Ron had only ever known
 bananas, he'd be fine.You don't miss what you've never had. It's an impossibility. It's why I can't understand why parents take their children to Disneyland. A child will never grow up regretting the lack of Disneyland in their life. That just doesn't happen. But once you take a five year old on a once-in-a-life-time trip, they'll be gutted when it can't happen again. The bar has been set high. A caravan in Wales would be a crushing disappointment after th...

To Research Or Not To Research, That Is The Question...

I once saw an interview with a famous crime author whose main character was a Chief Inspector. The interviewer asked if she’d had to do much research into police procedures in order to write her stories. The author – now an elderly woman – smiled with a glint and said, ‘No, not at all. I made it all up. It’s fiction.’
Well how marvellous is that? How creatively freeing for the writer is that? The author – who I can’t name because I can’t find the quote online, I’ve probably paraphrased it a bi...

The Guilty Pleasure of Cultural Piggy-Backing...

I've been thinking a lot about cultural appropriation this week. I know, who do I think I am, right? Last week it was a cobbled together list about blogging, this week I'm bringing out the big guns. I'm throwing in the hot potato. I'm having the conversation.

Cultural Appropriation is the concept of writing about a culture of which you don't belong. Lots of writers have done this over the years - indeed the very notion of fiction requires an author to create a story that is not simply a r...

Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes...

Folks. Come closer, and pull up a chair. Let me share with you something wondrous. Ready? Of course you are, you're gagging to hear the news. Well, here we go. Last Friday, this teeny-tiny blog written by little old me, had it's first birthday. I KNOW. In the bastardised words of a politician I didn't much care for, WE ARE A ONE YEAR OLD. 

Honestly, I've never committed so hard to anything in my life. Weekly ramblings uploaded every Monday and shared around the world. (Yeah, yeah, I had t...

The Stress of a Book Signing...

Preach it, Blanche.There are many brilliant things about not marking books and planning lessons anymore. For sure. Knowing you have four sets of thirty books to mark before the following day as you take your tea-plates to the sink, is the worst feeling. But what to do with all the extra time? Without a job that seeps into all your gaps, there's time for some Interesting and Exciting activities. This could be anything from taking up paragliding to watching five-year old Netflix relea...