Author Archives: Tania Kindersley

Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty.

I think: oh, I haven’t written my lockdown diary for a couple of days. I look. It is eight days. I have absolutely no sense of time any more. Everyone I speak to says, ‘Do you know what day of the week it is?’ None of us knows. I spent most of this morning wonderingContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Fifty-Four.

Someone extremely grown up and discerning on Twitter says that I must read a certain article. (People on Twitter are always saying this. I occasionally do it myself.) The piece is brave and haunting, or something. The grown up man is so besotted with it that he has read it twice. I gallop on over,Continue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Fifty-Four.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Fifty-Three.

I do quite a lot of work with writers. When I first set up this teaching and mentoring service, I thought we’d mostly be talking about technical stuff. I started as a writing coach because a friend who wanted to write rang me up and asked me a whole boatload of questions. I answered themContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Fifty-Three.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Thirty-Seven.

I didn’t want to be the political person. I didn’t want to be the one who was jumping up and down and setting her hair on fire. I didn’t want to be judging and pointing fingers and carping from the sidelines. I was going to be the person who put up nice horse pictures andContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Thirty-Seven.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Thirty-Two.

Yesterday I wrote about missing human contact. Today, the universe woke up, stretched itself, and decided to send me a present.  I took the red mare out for a gentle walk in hand. After about twenty minutes, we spotted a gentleman walking his extremely handsome Labrador. As we came within earshot, I said something aboutContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Thirty-Two.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Twenty-Six.

It’s been a long, long day, and I am almost too tired to type anything. But I want to record my one good thing.  My eighty-eight-year-old stepfather is in complete isolation. He keeps getting stern letters from his local health service telling him he must not step outside or have any contact with another humanContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Twenty-Six.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Twenty-Five.

It is 6.33pm and I am so tired that I don’t know what my name is and I have forgotten the rudiments of written English. So this is not exactly going to be Scott Fitzgerald putting on the Ritz.  But, true to my new One Thing theory, I had one thing of such ravishingly lovelinessContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Twenty-Five.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Twenty-Four.

I’ve suddenly realised a slightly weird thing. Every day, before I sit down to write this, I check on Twitter first. I look at what is trending, in case some terrible disaster has happened or some unfathomable tragedy has struck. I am conscious of the jarring note. I don’t want to be writing about someContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Twenty-Four.”