Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty-Five.

Yesterday, I felt too miserable to write. Everything was supposed to be better. Everything was supposed to be sorted out. All the questions were supposed to be answered. We Britons were supposed to, in the words adored by the political class, move on. And everything just got worse. There was shouting. The Twitter pile-on started,Continue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty-Five.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty-Two.

At 5.02pm, the Prime Minister started to address the nation. At 5.04pm, Twitter exploded. Even the official Civil Service account went rogue, as if all the Sir Humphreys had finally had enough.  I don’t have any good words for this, and words are my business. I spent yesterday trying so hard to be sensible andContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty-Two.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty-One.

A while ago, I instituted an internet rule. If someone in public life annoyed the hell out of me, I would not mention them by name. If I had to write about the annoyance, in order for my brain not to explode, I would say ‘a political operative’ or ‘a famous television person’. This hasContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Sixty-One.”

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 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.”

Lockdown Diary: Day Nineteen.

A friend calls. She calls the lockdown the lockup, which for some reason makes me laugh. ‘All this lockup,’ she says. She tells me about her great-aunt, who kept bantams during the war. ‘They lived in trees,’ she said, ‘so she didn’t need a coop or anything.’ She tells me about her grandmother, who usedContinue reading “Lockdown Diary: Day Nineteen.”