♫...Old Nick Bond, Wrote a Book, AI, AI, Ohhh... ♫

I'm definitely not a technophobe. No way! I was the first person I knew to get a smart phone. I regularly eschew a staffed checkout for a self-service, preferring my own thoughts to the pained small talk some cashiers feel the need to offer. And then there're the apps. I can turn on my heating, defrost the car, or search for directions before I leave the house. Technology? All over it, mate. 

Just call me Inspector Gadget

But what I continue to be, I like to think, is discerning. Look, I'm no Maggie Philbin or Judith Hann. I'm just an everyday person navigating the world. I don't need the blingiest, most space-age gadgets for every given task. Nope, I try to look at a new technological advance on offer and make a decision. Is this actually better than what's gone before? It's great when something comes along that makes life easier. But here's the rub. It must be easier AND better. Not easier and crapper. That's a rubbish pay off. Who wants ease when the end result is shite?

Why is this on my mind right now? Well, it's because of the current discourse surrounding artificial intelligence. Look, I know the score. We've been using AI for years. Without realising it, most of the time. This article is from 2019. I deliberately found something from a while back, to show how people have been climbing aboard the AI train without much thought. Me too, natch. And you know what? Fair play! Having my Hotmail account (mostly) spot the spam and send it straight to Junk, is good. It makes my life better, not having to wade through gross crap from bots and pervs. Carry on! 

Likewise, I'm pretty reliant on my SatNav. Because of a missed update, I recently learnt the hard way what it's like to follow directions in an unknown town towards a closed road. Arghhh! I managed not to stop dead at the red closure sign and cause a pile up. Instead I turned off at the next open road, drove around in a flap for a bit, before finding somewhere to stop and have a think. Bring back my AI updated satnav! I need it! 

And when someone has purchased one of my books in the past, and then Amazon suggests my latest one to them while they're looking for something else, I'm grateful! I have many beefs with Amazon, but not that. That makes my life easier and better! Hurrah.

But back to the topic in hand. I said there'd been a load of AI discourse lately, and there has. I see it in publishing chat, a lot. Because whilst there are some decent ways we can use AI and not feel like we're compromising on something fundamentally good, it's not always the case.

Take spell check. If you're terrible at spelling and grammar, you'll probably love it. You'll cling to it at the end of something you've had to write, changing every highlighted error. But for those that are pretty handy with their written communication, it's clear that spell check makes mistakes. It doesn't get context. It misidentifies English spellings as incorrect, or flags up deliberately chosen dialect or slang. I rarely use it. 

Or, you know when you're typing an email and your computer tries to guess the end of the sentence and offers the next few words? Urgh! Only if I were writing in obvious cliches would that be any use to me. Or predictive text? It's often wrong. Or when I Google something and have to scroll past the AI overview first. Why would I want an AI overview? Where's it come from? What sites has it used? Why is it slowing me down while I check I'm getting information from a trusted source. To rely on AI for all of that, feels like we're throwing our hands up in the air and saying, 'Quality be damned!' 

I was talking about this to a mate recently. She'd started to use ChatGPT for work - to get ideas for presentations to clients while she wrote them. It posed a question. (Full disclosure: I can't remember if I asked it. Wine had been taken. ) The question was, 'Why would she think an AI program would give her a better result than her own brain? Or her selected trusted sources that humans had written? When AI is comprised of pulling generic stuff from a load of random, unchecked places, why would a mishmash of derivative information be better than what she could produce herself? Particularly when she knows the specific needs of her client base. I think I know the answer. It's because it's quicker. It cuts a corner but gives her more time for the rest of her job. And I guess that makes sense. I can see why that would be good when your day is comprised of a million other things. 

But it's not that simple for everyone. When your entire job is the artistic creation of chapters, verses, or scripts, perhaps the ability for someone to generate a bland and basic facsimile of your content is NOT the way forward. This is the issue that the publishing industry is grappling with at the moment.* How can we protect creative professionals and their intellectual property, in the face of the rise of AI? That's the question currently being debated between anyone linked to publishing. I'm sure other areas of the arts are having similar convos.

That's not all though. A recent Atlantic article broke how Meta (that's Facebook and Insta and whatnot) have been using published authors' work to train their AI engine. No one had been informed about it before the fact. No one had been paid for their work. It is only possible to check if your content had been stolen by using the handy search tool in the article. So far, mine has not. But many authors - both traditionally and self-published - have had their copyrighted work ripped off to train Meta's AI tools. 

A weeping Shakespeare 
laments his lack of copyright.

Take William Shakespeare. He's had his plays used for AI training. Having died well over seventy years ago, his copyright expired a while back.** But let's use the example to see where it leads. Say you want to write a Shakespeare-style scene for, oh I don't know, a comedy sketch? Or a school project? You could ask the AI engine to write you something Shakespeare-esque, involving a skull, or a quill, or even a wheelie bin. It'll pull from a variety of sources, most notably Shakespeare's own stuff, and it'll churn out something 'in the style of.' The result would probably be amusing. Perhaps Shakespearian-sounding in places. But it would definitely be clunky, include small amounts of gibberish, and be a pale imitation of the real thing.*** And you know what? That's fine. It's Shakespeare. His canon is established. His work is in the public domain and has been forever. No one needs to worry about Shakespeare getting ripped off or devalued. 

But consider the same process for an author who isn't so established. Their writing style can - on the surface of it - be quasi-replicated easily and cheaply. That means their work becomes devalued, and their career adversely affected. When you're trying to make a living - or more realistically, trying to fund the odd night out here and there - knowing that something can ape your style whilst being less accomplished in its delivery, really sucks. Plus, it's stealing. That's supposed to be illegal.

The UK Government recently had a consultation period about AI. Their AI playbook released in February, gives the impression they're quite keen on its possibilities. The Society of Authors held a protest last week. Targeting Meta, they focused on the illegality of intellectual property theft. The Writers' Guild have likewise been advising their members how to fight back in the face of their industry being swallowed up without much thought. Indeed, my own Government consultation response, that I wrote based on the notes from ALCS, focused on the need for exemptions for copyrighted work. It seems that whilst people are on board with making life easier and processes quicker, they're not thinking about the effects on culture. 

We all access culture. We all devour the products of creativity. Most of us chill out at the end of the day with a binge-watch. (I've recently hoovered up The Residence on Netflix. It was a whimsical delight!) Viewing the pitch from a purely writing perspective, we know how much society absorbs written stories. Whether it's books, films, or soap operas, we're obsessed with the lives of others. Hey, take the film, The Lives Of Others. Would an AI engine create the beautifully nuanced story of one man's journey from a cold rule-based Stasi officer, to someone who learns the value of poetry and expands his inner world, all whilst visibly remaining the downtrodden automaton he's always been? There's no way! The churned out script would be stereotypical fluff. It'd be heavy handed and dull. It might be quicker than writing a film from scratch, but it would be far crapper by comparison. 

Creating. Takes. Time.

Besides, who says the creative process should be quick? Who thinks it should be easy? It's SUPPOSED to be a slog. It's the blood, sweat, and tears of the creator that over time, make it a thing of beauty; a compelling and absorbing use of your time. It's not meant to be done in a flash and onto the next thing. If it were easy, its value would plummet. 'Quality be damned!' I type, for the second time this post.

All this is to say, that while I'll still watch films that an algorithm has suggested, or use my satnav whenever I'm in a new place, I plan to keep a discerning eye on new tech as it pops up. Does this technology make my life easier AND better? It's got to be two for two. Anything else can be swerved. 

In terms of my books, I'm committed to refusing to use AI in my writing. Why would I? My brain created Leeza McAuliffe and that's where I'll go for her subsequent exploits. Likewise, my front covers are created by a human artist. Gary is his name. He's boss. Could I create something usable with AI tools? Maybe. Would I want to? NO! I want them to be brilliant. I want an artist and designer whose work adds value to my own. Not a quick and easy rip off of other people's intellectual property. It's as simple as that. So while the Government is looking at ways that AI can improve productivity and cut spending in Westminster, it needs to recognise that it's not that simple. Creative industries will be adversely affected if there are no restrictions and exemptions. And with that, the quality of the telly, novels, theatre, even the adverts we consume, will deteriorate. Like I said at the top, I'm no Maggie Philbin or Judith Hann, but I'm no technophobe either. Make my life easier AND better. That's the challenge. When it comes to creativity, I don't think it's something AI can ever hope to achieve.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Interesting aside. As I typed this sentence, the predictive text element of Blogger wanted me to write '... This is the issue that the publishing industry is grappling with at the Monet.' Sheeeeesh.

**To be absolutely accurate, copyright law didn't exist in Shakespeare's time. But nowadays, copyrighted material becomes fair game for public use, seventy years after the death of the person that holds copyright. Every year there's a new batch of cultural output that  - for example - an author can quote in their own work without getting permission or paying for. This is why I used Ralph Waldo Emerson's writing as an opening quote in Carry the Beautiful. 

*** Here's an example of AI's limitations. A few weeks ago, you may remember, I wrote a eulogy for my laptop. While posting it on Bluesky, I chose a fabulous Gif to accompany my words. Joan Collins, as Alexis Carrington, is dressed to the nines in funereal black. She's wearing a hat with mesh veil over half her face, and she's tearfully standing at a graveside. In the three second gif, she looks down at the grave, has an emotional swoon, and then throws herself into the arms of a burly hunk standing behind. I chose the Gif so its camp comedy could accompany  my tongue-in-cheek writing. But! When I clicked to add the ALT text (the text that describes it for visually challenged readers) there was already an AI suggestion typed into the box. I could accept it, or type my own version over it. The suggestion AI had come up with was, 'A woman wearing a black hat with a veil over her face.' This is the most one-note, basic description of what was, in reality, some camp-as-tits, dramatic, visual hyperbole. Reader, you'll be pleased to know, I wrote over that suggestion with my own description.

Tough Guys, Melty Spuds, and Eerie Lights...

Well hello, April! You're almost here! 

This week I've said, 'This year's flying by,' at least twice, and without irony. I know it's the kind of thing old people say. It's a cliched statement that's used for all sorts of meaningless situations when small talk is required. BUT IT'S STILL TRUE. 

It feels only two minutes since the January snow arrived just as my pipes were getting dug up. (Not a euphemism!) The new cess pit is working like a dream - thanks for asking - and I can't believe how often I can have a bath now. But all that was three months ago. Three months! And now Spring is well and truly here. The clocks have changed, the daylight lasts longer, and there were one or two days last week when I didn't wear a jumper. Can you believe it? We've turned a corner, folks.

So, let's sally forth and embrace the change. As you know, I dread the Summer. The heat, the sweat, the general stickiness of it all. But that's ages away. Spring is fresh and breezy! It's warm but cool! It's bright and beautiful! Let's enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

The 1st Leeza book

Writing News

It's time to start thinking about the next steps of the third Leeza McAuliffe book. I'm officially going back to it on Tuesday 15th April. My diary is clear from then on so that's when it'll be. So what will I be doing on the 15th April? Well, reading through the first draft. That's the first job. From start to finish, all in one go. It'll take the best part of the day, but it's the first step. 

The 2nd Leeza book

That will flag up loads of issues. LOADS. There'll be too many to make sense of. I'll be bursting with so many thoughts that there'll be no room in my brain for them all. But as soon as I've finished reading the whole thing through, I'll open a new word doc and let every thought I've got explode onto the page. It'll be frenzied and garbled, and potentially make no sense. But it'll be the only thing to do at that stage.

And look, it's not my first rodeo. I know the kinds of things that'll stand out before I even read it back. They'll be the same as the four other times I've written a book. I'll spot that some of the ideas that jump out in the first chapter, fizzle out by the third. I'll notice that the middle section is saggy and dull. I'll also realise that the ending needs more oomph. But there'll be loads of other things too. Inconsistencies, characters that don't do much, or plot lines that need beefing up or cutting. I'll spot everything all at once and I'll make a list of it all. That will shape what I'll be doing in the next chunk of 2025.

Culture

I've just finished the 3rd season of Reacher on Amazon. I infinitely prefer the books but there's something wonderfully escapist about watching a big good guy beat up the big bad guys. And despite being generally pacifist at heart, I surprised myself by shouting, 'Shoot him in the dick,' at the telly when a would-be rapist was getting his comeuppance just before he attacked. In book news, I've just finished Janice Hallet's The Examiner. Properly gripping and much more reminiscent of her first novel, The Appeal, than her other books have been. Finally, The Flat Share is being repeated on Channel 5 right now but it's all there on Paramount if you want to catch up. It's sweet without being saccharine, and has been making me smile as I wind down each day. 

Exmoor caviar, confit
potatoes, and brown crab.

Food and Drink

Ooooh. Let me tell you about my birthday meal starter from last Monday. It was confit potatoes - all crispy on the outside and melty on the inside - with a crab mayo-y sauce and caviar on top. (The official title is under the picture.) You know when you can't stop thinking about something you've eaten, and you're craving it all the time, but you can never hope to replicate it yourself no matter how hard you try? Well, that. That's all I've thought of this week. If you want to see for yourself, the Dog and Collar on Hope Street will be able to sort you out. It's just opened and is utterly lovely.

Borealis

Out and About

After the pub and the nicest starter I've ever had, I had a walk down to the docks. For the past week, the Borealis light installation has been in place at the Albert Dock. The effect is beautifully strange, with music and smoke adding to the feel of the whole thing. Despite being busy, there was no bustle. The eerie vibes slowed people right down, and gave a sense of calm as people wandered under the lights. A pretty cool way to end the evening, not going to lie.

So enjoy the first day of April tomorrow. Will you spot a daffodil? Eat a cream egg? Pat a newborn lamb? It's unlikely I'll do any of those things as I'll be busy indoors, but no matter. It's the thought that counts. Baaaaaaa.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Forty-Seven Trips Around the Sun...

*Taps mic* Hello... Hello? I just wanted to make a small announcement. 

Today is MY BIRTHDAY!!!!! Wooooohooooo!!!!!!

🎈🎂🥳🎉🙌🎁💃

I'll never understand the vibes that some adults give off; that they're not fussed about their birthday. It's the best! Even when I've spent the day on my own, had no plans, or been 'going through a rough patch', the anniversary of my birth is a lovely glimmer of light. It's the positive upside of the week. It's provides a Ready Brek glow all the day is long. And it's not about presents. It's not about getting stuff. It's the FEELING. 

My first birthday cake.
The mood is nonchalant.

The past seven days were officially designated as My Birthday Week. The normal rules didn't apply; all bets were off. For example, I used my posh bubble bath more than once. I chose the best picky teas and had patatas bravas on a week night. I also rewatched the ten second video I've got from 2012, where my Grandma (who died later that year) wishes me a happy birthday. All the loveliest things. 

The brown decor suggests 
this was 1971 but no.
It was 1987.

So, whilst I'll carry on with the Weekly Update, be aware it's infused with more positivity, more self-care, and more Ready Brek glow than usual. What do you expect? It was MY BIRTHDAY WEEK after all. I've had a ball!

Writing News

I've done NOTHING. Ha. My empty head is happily enjoying the break. Whoop!

Mikey Madison in Anora.
She was exceptional.

Culture News

I finally managed to see Anora - the film that won four Oscars last month. You know what? It's pretty good. I let it pass me by when it was originally released. To be fair, if it hadn't been lauded so much, I'd have continued to give it a swerve. It sounded too gritty and depressing on paper. Happily, on screen, it's funny and poignant, as well as sad and scary. All the feelings!

Food and Drink

Check out my birthday week picky tea. Isn't it beautiful? I also broke my no crisps in the house rule (because I'd eat them all if there was a stash) and so had the odd packet here and there. I also made a cake (for another household birthday - in MY week! Tsk) and there was no question. I went straight to my Queen, Nigella. Her chocolate and Guinness cake is utterly delicious and I could eat it forever. Something about the Guinness means the sickliness is dialled down so it's properly fit. And then finally, there was an Albert Schloss Sunday lunch yesterday. All tasty birthday fun!

Out and About

I did an overnight to London. I know! What a week I've had! For Christmas I'd got tickets to one of the Off Menu live shows. Hurrah! I didn't know who the guest was going to be, but I could listen to James Acaster and Ed Gamble riff with anyone. As it turned out, when I rocked up to the London Palladium, the secret guest was Rhod Gilbert! Whoop. An excellent evening was had by all. (It's my birthday so I feel I can speak for the entire audience.)

HELLO 47

So this is forty-seven. Isn't it a nondescript age? I remember the heady thrill of turning sixteen and knowing I could buy a cigs and a lottery ticket if I wanted. This time, it's more of the same. But isn't that marvellous! More of the same will suit me just fine. And even though my birthday week peaks today, and it's back to normal tomorrow, I'll ease back in slowly. I think the fancy bubble baths and the patatas bravas can hang around a little longer, don't you?

Have a lovely week, folks.

Happily Selfish...

Hello there. You find me returning to my usual routine after a few days of home alone fun. I've talked before about the joys of living alone. At least for me, it's SOOO good. (Other opinions are valid.) But having moved from a large family, to a big house share, to a cohabiting couple, I've never experienced the giddy thrill of being uncompromisingly selfish. It's the absolute best.

The ceiling of dreams

Last week's period of wallowing, was shorter than usual. Relaxing into my own rhythms had to be truncated. I skipped the giddy and home improvement stages, and went straight to pampering and binge-watching. I also utilised a Christmas present that I bought my partner. He's shown little interest in it so I think it's fine. In December I gave him a projector that plays your streaming services onto a wall. This means the past week has seen me working through box sets, lying in bed, and looking up at Disney + on a sloping ceiling. It's been utter bliss and I feel rejuvenated!

 

Writing News

The writing break continues. It's important to be clear about this. This is a pre-determined, designated break with a clear end date. If I became wishy washy about this; if I were to be vague about when I'd be getting back to it, then that would be dangerous. I know several writers who regularly say they've not written for months. They can't get into it. They're not feeling it. They don't have the words. That's fair enough. Everyone's different and I have no intention of pushing my personal way of working onto anyone else. But I know one thing. If I gave myself an unspecified, open-ended break, with the plan to get back to my book when I felt like it, that day would never come. I know myself too well. So the break continues, but only for a few more weeks. Then it's back to the grind.

High Potential

Culture

Let's talk about those box sets. They're all on Disney + because I couldn't be bothered logging the projector into any of the other streamers. So what did I binge in bed? Well, I finished Paradise. That's the strange yet compelling story that starts with a murdered president and ends up in a post-apocalyptic survivalist world. I also caught up with the rest of High Potential. That's the super-intelligent police consultant with unorthodox methods who outfoxes the police at every crime scene. 

Finally, there was a new series I started. Doctor Odyssey. This one's fun and frothy. If you have a soft spot for Pacey Witter (tbf, his name's Joshua Jackson and he stopped playing Pacey Witter in 2003) then this might be right up your street. Pacey  Joshua Jackson is Dr Max Bankman, the new doctor on a fancy cruise ship. It looks great, HE looks great, and the plots are fun. High drama it is not, but for those of us who want to support our famous teen peers in their adult endeavours, then you could do a lot worse.

Food and Drink

I don't eat as much when I live alone. Fact. I also eat more healthily. There must be studies about why this is, right? For most of last week, I arranged pickles, marinated veggies, and slices of cheese on a plate. Then I went upstairs, fired up the Disney + ceiling, and ate with my fingers in bed. The dishwasher was barely used, I didn't fill a binbag, and I was more relaxed than usual. The downside? There's a good possibility that some garlic infused olive oil may have dripped onto the duvet. With every silver lining there's a cloud.

Out and About

Despite my semi-feral state, I did shower, brush my teeth, and leave the house. How could I not? Hibernation's over, remember? There was Wednesday brunch, my fortnightly writing group, a Costa meeting, and a hair cut. It's good to be out and about in the world when your home life has become a boxset in bed experience. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Change is in the Air...

Hear ye, hear ye! I hereby declare that Nicky Bond's Winter Hibernation is OVER.

At midnight on 1st March, I woke up. Not literally, tbf. It was more likely I was falling asleep at that point. But I mentally and metaphorically came alive. Energy coursed through my veins, I felt invigorated and fresh. March was here! Winter was almost over! I would shave my pits for the first time in a season! Spring was PALPABLE.

It's strange how it hits. After wallowing in my own juices since October - a period of time I actively love - I'm now ready for something new. And how does this manifest? Well, apart from renewed hair removal routines, I've been online looking for garden candles. Yeah, check me out. I even went to a garden centre last week. Admittedly, this was a step too far, and I found myself quickly out of my depth. All I want are the perfect garden chairs. Sadly they don't exist. But still! The appetite for outdoor activities is within me. Spring - whilst technically being weeks away - has sprung! 

Writing News

I've banged on about this for what feels like forever, so I'll give you some closure. The first draft of Leeza McAuliffe Book 3 is now complete. Whoop de doo! It's way too long at 75,000 words but that means I have lots of stuff I can cut. And cut it I will, just as soon as my month of ignoring the manuscript is over. For the rest of March, I'll be reading other people's novels. Utter bliss.

 

Culture

'And which other people's novels will I be reading?' I hear no one ask. Well thanks to some bookshop.org vouchers I got at Christmas, I've just finished Curtis Sittenfeld's Romantic Comedy. This was EXACTLY what I needed. A romance, with developed characters, and lots to say about the world. It threw in the US political sitch, as well as COVID so felt nicely weighted in reality. A happy way to pass a couple of days. My next read's going to be Gabrielle Zevins' Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow. I'm hoping for a similar 'curl up on the sofa and lose myself' experience. 

Other than that, I've finished the second series of Shrinking, I've binged Zero Day on Netflix, and I'm loving the weekly episodes ofWhite Lotus. Because of its serenely beautiful location, it makes me feel tranquil and calm, despite the terrible characters on screen. Cool, huh? And finally, here's the UK song for Eurovision! Because it's the ESC, it's fair to say, there are A LOT OF OPINIONS ONLINE. Why not listen and see what you think. 

Food and Drink

Talking of brunch (at least I think we were a couple of weeks ago) something miraculous happened. It was Saturday morning and I was craving food. I don't mean I was hungry. Not just that. I was craving something specific - something lovely and beautiful and brunchy. I just couldn't put my finger on it. I had the time, plus some basic ingredients, but I couldn't work out what I wanted. 

After all the usual things (scrawling back through my food photos, Googling 'brunch ideas', and aimlessly opening kitchen cupboards) I was hit with a gloomy thought. It was, I decided, a real shame that the waffle maker had been binned. That would have been perfect now. It used to sit on the worktop, but years ago we had a clear out and it went. That was my memory, anyway. It was when I was voicing this to my partner that the miracle happened. He looked at me like I was mad and then opened a kitchen drawer. There, in front of my very eyes, was the waffle maker! It had not been binned. Not at all. It had simply been removed from the worktop and hidden out of the way. My dream of the perfect brunch could become a reality. I whipped up a cheesy batter and got wilting spinach quicker than you can say, 'Get a life Nicky, you mad woman.' It was the loveliest way to start the weekend.

Out and About

The newest of my nephs turned the big 1 at the weekend. A family get together for the littleun was a cracking way to spend the afternoon and loads of fun was had by all. One of the problems with a big family, however, (and there are many!) is that new born members tend to see you as part of a gaggle. No one is distinguishable. I'm one of his many aunties and uncles. How will he ever learn I'm the best? This is something I struggle with a lot. I guess it takes time. The oldest niece is in high school now. This means she has me messaging her random questions about teen life, hot boys, and youth slang. (Research, folks!) Maybe my baby neph is happier without my 'fun' for now. Sigh.

So on we march with March. If, like me, you're all about shaved pits and garden candles, then hello! Are we twinnies? What are the odds?! If, in the more likely event, you are not, then enjoy the change in vibe. However you're filling your month, I hope it's bringing you joy. More next week, if you're up for it - mkay?

Have a lovely week, folks.

Here's to you, My Laptop...

I missed the February Long Ramble. Did you notice? No, me neither. Sorry to everyone I let down. It's not all bad. You got four Weekly Updates instead of three. I don't think the world will stop turning because I didn't post a rant an exploration of a single issue during the calendar month. 

This is a (much more)
dramatic reconstruction
 of what happened

But let's make up for it now. Last week, if you caught my Monday morning TikTok address (the first couple of minutes can also be found on Insta) you'll know my laptop was hanging on for dear life. Folks, I'm sorry to say she didn't make it. I know. Dark times. Several weeks before I was mentally ready, I had to say goodbye. I now have a shiny, new, bought-in-a-hurry laptop, upon which I'm typing these very words. I can't, however, move on without stopping to take a moment. The adventures myself and My (old) Laptop shared, are many and varied. Today, I want to share my personal tribute with you.

Born in 2015, My Laptop led a full life. She came to me when I tinkering with the draft of my first novel. I'd no idea what I was doing, or where I was going with it. Deadlines and a work ethic had yet to be put into place. But with My Laptop at my fingertips, I was able to finish the manuscript, research publishing, send it out to people, engage an editor, arrange with a designer for the creation of a front cover, and publish, distribute, and market the thing. With her help, I repeated the process another three times.

 

My Laptop spent her life completing the most mundane of tasks; never complaining, always with a welcoming chime and a bright screen. She tackled the Guardian Crossword, the Times Concise Crossword, and the free New York Times puzzles on a daily basis. She compiled shopping lists, found recipes, and sent messages. She was the host of almost all the FaceTimes I've had with my nieces and nephs. Midway through her life, she swapped the Google home page for Ecosia's. This did not stymie her ability to search. She provided information on a myriad of topics, with speed and clarity. She also enjoyed modifying her appearance. A 2019 Christmas present saw her become adorned with Jessie and Celine stickers. After Liverpool hosted the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest, she added an ESC sticker to her lid. 

 

My Laptop travelled widely. Accompanying me on multiple weekends in Wales and Scotland, she also went as far as Canada. Our shared experiences on the VIA train from Toronto to Halifax will remain a particularly happy memory. She was also instrumental in one of my favourite evenings in Berlin. After a long day of walking around the city, I escaped to my bed. Me and My Laptop ordered a room service burger, a glass of white wine, and snuggled up with the Andrew Haigh film, Weekend. It was a lovely evening, providing much-needed succour amidst a busy and shattering week. 

 

It's not all been glamour and travel. There's been adversity along the way. My Laptop has spent hours in Ticketmaster queues. She lived through the lockdowns of 2020 and 2021, being an essential part of the weekly Bond Family Zoom quizzes. Throughout the Covid pandemic, she was my portal to the outside world. This was a responsibility she did not shy away from. She enabled me to watch a Zoom with Kenneth Branagh, raising money for theatre professionals unable to work. She facilitated a Zoom with Russell T Davis, where he shared tips with members of the Writers' Guild. She even broadcast the Dominic Cumming's Barnard Castle speech from Downing Street's rose garden. She did not baulk at this grimmest of tasks. 

 

Throughout her life, My Laptop remained stoic in the face of adversity. She survived multiple drops. The loss of two of her rubber corner feet did not hold her back. Indeed, her persistent wobble became an endearing eccentricity. In later years, the complete disappearance of the printed letters A and E from their respective keys, did not hamper her efficiency. She continued as she always had. A loyal friend despite her own personal challenges.

 

In recent months, it's clear she's been struggling. Her inability to update to the latest iOS meant she could no longer take part fully in all that was required of her. As apps on her desktop started to fail, it was evident her remaining time was limited. On Tuesday 25th February 2025, her inability to open Word was the sign I needed. It was time to say goodbye. She left this world having been an essential part of the next Leeza McAuliffe book; missing out on the first draft's completion by half a chapter. No doubt she would have taken this set back in her stride.

 

So, here's to you, My Laptop. Thank you for giving me the chance to write the stories I had in my head. Thank you for the puzzles, the recipes, the films, and the reading material. Thank you for the FaceTimes and the Zooms; for both keeping me in touch with others, as well as accompanying me in the solitary task of novel writing. Ten years has flown by. We had a blast, didn't we?

 

Have a lovely week, folks.

No Money For Lobster...

I'm at it again. I can only apologise. You thought my home-improvement woes were done and dusted with January's cess pit upgrade? Wrong! Turns out, living in the same place for sixteen years without really maintaining it, can be a recipe for... well not disaster. That's far too strong a term. More like, a recipe for lots of jobs needing attention at the same time. And once you begin on one thing, loads more issues crop up. 

As I speak there's a pile of bricks outside my garage. They're from a wall that's been knocked down. Skips are pricy so they're going to the tip, one car boot at a time. Then the patio's getting redone. At the moment it's a trip hazard and only a matter of time before a family member sues. After that, there's the gravel to replace, and the new fancy-pants cess pit needs greenery to disguise it. The list goes on and proves the old adage: once you pop you just can't stop. I've resigned myself to the fact that 2025 is the year of home improvement shit. And that's OK. I'm lucky I have a home to fix. Remind me of that when I moan.  

Writing News

The last thousand words still need to be written, but the first draft is practically done. So far, the word count is 66,845. It's slightly shorter than an adult novel would be, but for a YA novel, this is fine. 

But here's the rub. What feels an appropriate length for the genre, isn't the only consideration. As I head towards the editing period, my creative storytelling needs are not the only thing on my mind. I've also to consider how much paper will be used to print the books. Prices are rising all over the place. I could raise the price of the book (and it may well come to that) or I can use less paper. With the last book, I worked out I needed the story  to stop at 60,000 words in order to sell the book at £8.99 and make a pound profit. This time, it may be pricier? I'm not sure yet. I'll work it out when I have a clearer idea of the final length. The upshot is, that as I come to the end of the first draft, I'm aware that the next stage isn't all creative decisions and writerly instincts. And more's the pity.

HOME. Image from here.

Culture

Someone's killed the President! Uh-oh! Who could have done it? That's how Disney+'s Paradise opens. It's moves on - quite quickly - from that set up, but it's fun and tense nonetheless. In other TV news, Reacher is back on Amazon Prime. This series is based on the Lee Child book, Persuader, which I'll probably end up rereading. As for the show, I'm waiting until all the episodes have dropped before I go in. Elsewhere in Culture news, as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I had a ticket for Before Sunrise on the big screen. Last week it happened. It was SOOO good to see it enlarged. But just as marvellous was my glass of wine in the bar at HOME beforehand. It was Valentine's Day and I'd brought my book to read. Before I walked in, I had the slight panic that I might stand out like a sore thumb, as couples around me romanced each other to bits. Not so! The bar at HOME is a welcoming space for people wanting a quiet drink with a book. I was not the only solo reader there. That fact alone would have made my night, but I also had the thrill of the film. Lucky, lucky me.

A beige bowl of brilliance. 
AKA crab and prawn 
ravioli, cod goujons, 
and tartare sauce.

Food and Drink

I've been craving lobster ravioli for weeks. I know, I know, it's such a bougie thing to say. Soz. But I'd had it in a restaurant a few weeks ago, and it's been on my mind ever since. Now, I'm not someone who's going to make my own pasta. Not these days. And the Asda didn't have anything even approaching what I wanted, so I had to go to Markises. There goes the food budget! The nearest I could get was crab and prawn, but it was enough to satiate me. Come Saturday night, I went off piste by baking the individual parcels until they were crispy and serving them with a garlicky tartare. They were lovely!

 

Bonding

Out and About

It was half term. Did you know? I did. Because all my siblings with kids were on holiday, and my usually quiet Costa was riddled with multi-generational patrons. Fair play. I can handle it for a week. But the best part was I got to catch up with two of my nephs. The littlest neph - still under a year old - has yet to learn of my brilliance. I did my best, over the course of Friday afternoon, to impart what he needs to know about me. Time will tell if I managed it.

Enjoy the rest of the month! Can you Adam and Eve it? March is almost upon us! The month of my birth, as well as the births of almost everyone I know. There'll be no money for lobster ravioli in March. It'll be spent on birthday presents, maintenance jobs, and nothing else. Until then...

...have a lovely week, folks.