another year over, a new one just begun

Just like that, in the blink of an eye, we're in a new year. The Mayans were wrong, the Olympic doubters were wrong, and I suddenly wasn't considered an absolute freak for loving my home town so much. Just like this summer, London did me proud last night. Due to a combination of exhaustion and some seasonal sickness, I didn't make it out for any of the many, many celebrations taking place across London last night. But I did force myself awake until  midnight to see the amazing firework display from the London Eye. Even though I didn't manage to replicate the slightly frost bitten fingers of last year, my eyes fell open in sheer awe. I suppose it helps that I could hear the actual fireworks from my ridiculously comfortable bed.

2012 was really good to me. Despite some of the toughest moments of my life so far, I managed to have a good year overall. Partly because:

• I finished my novel!
• I turned 21
• Started my degree (which I may sometimes forget I'm actually doing. Ooops.)
• I danced and sang whenever I felt like it.
• I successfully completed my first term of Star Track (love my co-creators and agents and the ever wonderful Eugenie and Kazvare)
• New friends appeared into my life magically...
• ...and old friends stayed firmly put.
• Me and Valentine celebrated two successful years together (god, it feels like a lifetime)
• I discovered frozen yoghurt. Oh sweetness, I love you.

In 2013 I will...

• Muster up the confidence to show someone my awful novel.
• Start (and finish) novels two and three.
• Attempt to emulate my mum's amazing cooking.
• Go on beautiful holidays.
• Keep the Peter Pan complex.
• Take dance classes again. I've been dreaming of being back en pointe.
• Finally teach Valentine the perfect arabesque form.

2013, I'm ready.

Oh London, you are so pretty

I've tried to find the proper photo credits but have been stumped so far. As soon as I locate the name of the photographer/photo source, I will give the correct credit.

A person's a person, no matter how small

It's a mild summer's evening, and I'm sitting at home waiting for the Lurch to finish his first proper day at his new job (congrats baby!) whilst forcing myself to not open that beautiful looking bottle of wine sitting over there staring at me. Instead of forcing myself to write proper articles that actually make me money, I've decided to sit down and watch Horton Hears A Who! on FilmFour.

I'm sitting here watching Horton Hears A Who! (exclamation mark is absolutely necessary) and soaking up every glorious moment as if I were five years old. I've realised that, scary as it may seem, or perhaps even as weird as it may seem, that Dr Seuss has well and truly moulded me into the individual that I am.

Much like my childhood obsession with Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (which prompted me to once try and fit through an actual rabbit hole aged five. Result? Broken nose and several bruises to the face area) I worshipped every weird word that came from Dr Seuss as a child. I still have several of the Seuss books that I devoured as a child, and have lovingly replaced the ones that got lost along the way to adulthood.

I implore each and every one of you - no matter how old or young, how silly or structured you are - to head down to the nearest library or book shop or DVD place and buy or rent a Dr Seuss book or movie. But preferably a book. It doesn't matter which one (although I recommend The Lorax). Just read it. Every single page.

I promise you that you will love every second of it. And you might even learn a thing or two!

Hello published writer!

You guys, it's actually happened! I am now officially a published writer. Yes, the article is awful and it's definitely not my best work, but it's published!

Check it out and let me know what you think...

http://musicouch.com/musicouching/the-end-of-a-feminist-era/

Are you afraid of the fear?

Life has interesting ways of challenging you. It may only happen once, or you may be confronted by it on a daily basis. You may be exceptionally prepared for it or it may attack like a lightning bolt. Either way, it happens, and it's success is determined by just how much you fear it.

I'm only 21, but have already been confronted by The Fear. It jumped into my life just a few short months ago when I was plagued by an identity crisis of sorts. I'd always longed to express myself through writing - it was one of the few enjoyments that have stayed with me throughout my life - yet found myself realising that I hadn't actually written anything for months.

The Fear presented itself as such: devote myself to the life I had always imagined for myself (even if it means living off of toast and pasta for the rest of my life) or remain stuck in a hellish job just for a pay check.

Noticing the need for a change, I made a drastic decision and quit my job. I realised that I needed to spend a few months focusing solely on my writing, devoting myself to the characters I had envisioned in my head for years. Quitting my job wasn't an easy decision to make, and I've since relied entirely on ad revenues and the occasional freelancing job to pay the bills. 

It isn't a particularly lucrative career path, and I'll probably never be a millionaire, but it's the happiest I've ever been in life. Sure, I could sell out and write a God awful book a la Fifty Shades to rake in the cash, but that would be the equivalent of making a deal with the devil in my mind. Yes, I'll have to return to employment eventually, but this time I won't allow myself to become a slave to the corporate machine. 

Someone I know said to me a few months ago that "all writers want success" and that a writer with no money might as well not bother writing. They cannot imagine how wrong they are. I don't write for success, nor for monetary rewards. I write because I have to. And that's not something I'm expecting them to understand. After all, they haven't confronted The Fear, and I doubt they ever will.