I knew I was late updating my Sleepstation review but I hadn’t realised my last post was eight weeks ago. Obviously a lot has happened since then and the world we’re currently living in is no longer the same (not at the moment, anyway. Will we get back to ‘normality’?
Sleepstation is a six-week online course to help people suffering from insomnia. It’s available to buy or you can get Sleepstation on the NHS by a referral from your GP. I’ve just completed my first week of sleep diaries and my first night of sleep restriction and will be adding
Jo Bavington-Jones is the author of two novels: Lucy Shaw’s Not Sure and Lucy Shaw Wants More, both published by The Conrad Press. I first met Jo when she worked at my local vet’s and, when she told me she was leaving to write her third novel, I begged her
There are a few writers’ groups in Folkestone, all offering different things, which is great but, because most groups are in the evening and I’m usually in my pyjamas by 5pm, I wanted one that met in daylight hours. You can never have too many writing groups though and, with
Above Caffè Nero in Ashford’s town centre, plans are being hatched amid a flurry of activity masterminded by Betsy Aidinyantz – the organiser of Ashford’s yearly ArtiGras Arts Festival. After seeing a shout out for volunteers, I went along to the Centre of Creativity and Enterprise (CCE) to speak to
The Collector by John Fowles has cropped up a few times in the current Facebook ‘list 10 books that have stuck in your mind’ thing, so I thought I’d post the essay I wrote on it for the Crossing Genre Boundaries module in the second year at university. *Just* missed getting
After last week’s LTHF trip to Costa Coffee in my local Tesco, I decided I’d do a tour of supermarket cafes. I know I should be using local independent cafes and, if we had any decent ones here, I would, believe me. As it is though, the town centre is
This poem was part of my portfolio for the poetry module at university. Getting a 1st for the poetry module was undoubtedly the biggest shock of the three years I was there. I celebrated by buying a bottle of absinthe, as poets drink absinthe, don’t they? This poem came about