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I once aspired to be a great writer. Work experience at a newspaper in Newcastle and reading of the hand-to-mouth existence of many famous writers in history soon cured me of that. I do, however, greatly enjoy passages of books which express something that has been latent within me. The following passage from Gunnar Kopperud’s Longing (I’ve a pre-publication copy from my days working part-time at Waterstone’s) is masterful, in my opinion…
A couple of linked BBC News reports caught my eye today. The 
I came back this afternoon to the scene depicted to the left. It made me feel a bit strange actually, but then things that go from being theoretical to ‘real’ usually do. We’re selling up and renting for a bit. Why? Well, many reasons (volatility of the housing market included) but mainly due to my uncertain position for next academic year. Although the Head at my current school is making all the right noises, I don’t have a permanent position and my contract ends in the summer.
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