I'm not entirely sure what it is that makes me write. And I'm never completely certain what will come out once I start.
I sometimes have - and remember - incredibly vivid dreams. Waking up is like coming out of the cinema and describing the film to someone who'd not seen it yet. Every now and then I'll wake myself up in the morning still laughing at something that happened in my dream. That's a lovely start to a day.
(I once had a boyfriend* who used to sing in his sleep, quite tunefully, which was also lovely. But not at 4am.)
I sometimes think my brain hopes, through writing, to amuse the rest of me. I set great store by humour and laughing, not least because so much in life is so very serious and therefore is and needs to be taken seriously. Finding the humour in something has got me through some very bleak times indeed.
Years ago, I was introduced to the work of the Canadian author Stephen Leacock via my Dad's very battered Penguin paperback edition of Literary Lapses (enter book, stage right, pursued by a spider plant). This was a major revelation. Here was a Professor of Political Economics at McGill University writing funny short stories about babies that exploded. I realised you could be both sensible and silly. You didn't have to choose. I was 9 years old. It was a great lesson.
* I know not everyone feels the word 'boyfriend' is appropriate once you're over the age of 15. I have problems with the alternatives: 'partner' makes me feel I'm co-running an accountancy firm; 'lover' sounds like they didn't stay long enough to help with the washing up (which might be true); 'significant other' is problematic if they're not quite that significant ... and so on ... (at this point, you probably begin better to understand the Physics A level multiple choice papers difficulty).
© Lorna Easterbrook 2016-2022 All Rights Reserved
Image: Back cover for 'Book of Nonsense' made by Lorna Easterbrook: leather on leather (with apologies to vegan readers)
I sometimes have - and remember - incredibly vivid dreams. Waking up is like coming out of the cinema and describing the film to someone who'd not seen it yet. Every now and then I'll wake myself up in the morning still laughing at something that happened in my dream. That's a lovely start to a day.
(I once had a boyfriend* who used to sing in his sleep, quite tunefully, which was also lovely. But not at 4am.)
I sometimes think my brain hopes, through writing, to amuse the rest of me. I set great store by humour and laughing, not least because so much in life is so very serious and therefore is and needs to be taken seriously. Finding the humour in something has got me through some very bleak times indeed.
Years ago, I was introduced to the work of the Canadian author Stephen Leacock via my Dad's very battered Penguin paperback edition of Literary Lapses (enter book, stage right, pursued by a spider plant). This was a major revelation. Here was a Professor of Political Economics at McGill University writing funny short stories about babies that exploded. I realised you could be both sensible and silly. You didn't have to choose. I was 9 years old. It was a great lesson.
* I know not everyone feels the word 'boyfriend' is appropriate once you're over the age of 15. I have problems with the alternatives: 'partner' makes me feel I'm co-running an accountancy firm; 'lover' sounds like they didn't stay long enough to help with the washing up (which might be true); 'significant other' is problematic if they're not quite that significant ... and so on ... (at this point, you probably begin better to understand the Physics A level multiple choice papers difficulty).
© Lorna Easterbrook 2016-2022 All Rights Reserved
Image: Back cover for 'Book of Nonsense' made by Lorna Easterbrook: leather on leather (with apologies to vegan readers)
