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About

little.red.boat

You may want to read my FAQ

Anna. 32. San Francisco. Brighton before that. But before Brighton, predictably, London. Formerly living in Glasgow. Before that, on the Isle of Iona. Before that, Derbyshire. Before that, Manchester. Before that, Derbyshire again. Before that, London. Before that, a uterus.

I have a BA and an Mphil in subjects not even slightly related to what I do now (acting, and dramaturgy), and now I write stuff for varying amounts of money (and here, on this blog, for free). And it’s nice.

From March to September 2002, I made 635 candles. That’s a lot of hot wax.

I look a bit like this. I like email.

Things that I can do

  1. I can put my fist in my mouth.

    This is of no use to myself or the world in general. I just can.

  2. I can turn cartwheels.

    badly.

  3. I can play the piano, the flute, the cello, and the recorder.

    very badly. I’ve had between one and six years training in them. most
    of which I can hardly remember. I maybe could bang out London’s burning
    on the recorder for you, but it would probably shatter your teeth.

  4. I can sing

    quite well. I’ve only discovered that this year for sure, but I enjoy
    singing and keep being told I’m good at it. Which is nice. Apparently
    I’d be better at it if I didn’t drink so much coffee or smoke so many
    roll-ups, but one has to decide on one’s priorities, eh?
    update: I wrote that in 2001. I really, really can’t sing anymore. It was magic. It’s now gone.

  5. I can write

    I think I can anyway. I do alot, anyway. now in this blog, but previously in many
    teenage-angsty journals (“God, I Love Him, or do I?…” etc.) a few
    poems, and a couple of aborted stage-plays, one of which I will go back
    to one of these days, short stories, ridiculous ideas for novels and
    many, many, many e-mails.

  6. I can read.

    And do. A lot. I devour books, newspapers, magazines, anything. I find
    it hard to sit and just be, I have to be reading something.
    Favourite kind of reading:(This section particularly updated in 2010, as it’s been a growing enthusiasm in the intervening years) Travel writing, particularly humorous travelogues of places I’ve not been to, and old guidebooks about places I know well (it’s basically time-travel). Authors vary, but I’ll write a whole post about it sometime and link to it here.

    Favourite Authors I can think of; Novels: Murakami, Tibor Fischer, Kurt
    Vonnegut, I’ve liked two of Nick Hornby’s, and José Saramago I’m also fond of. I also like classic crime novels, particularly Edmund Crispin, Margery Allingham and Dorothy L Sayers.

    Short stories: O Henry, Dorothy Parker, Vonnegut again, collected sets of
    various people. I like short stories a lot.

    Plays: Shakespeare, Edward
    Albee, Beckett, Oscar Wilde. I prefer to read them out loud, and don’t
    get the chance very often. That’s what I’m trained in. Reading plays
    out loud. Acting. Although I don’t want to do that now. I guess it’s
    something I can Do, all the same. Where was I?

    Poetry: e.e.cummings,
    Shakespeare, a lot of the Liverpool school of poets, Roger McGough,
    Brian Patten. John Fuller, Dorothy Parker again.

    One of my favourite poems, for no reason, else but it’s short…

    The reason I like Edna St Vincent Millay
    Is that her name
    sounds like a basketball
    falling down stairs.

    The reason I like Walt Whitman
    Is that his name
    sounds like Edna St Vincent Millay
    falling down stairs.

    I can’t remember who wrote it (apparently it was David Mamet), but I love that if you read it out loud,
    it does sound like those things.

  7. I can, entirely, rationalise my hatred of Apples.

    They’re loud. And monotonous. And smell.

    Alright, perhaps I cannot rationalise my hatred of apples.

  8. I can remember all my houses.
    • London, west London, St Quentin’s Avenue; 0-9
    • London, west London, Barlby Gardens; 9-16
    • Kinder View, Derbyshire, New Mills 16-19
    • Lansdowne Road, Didsbury, Manchester, 19-20
    • Adams Drive, Davis, California, 20-21
    • Burton Road, Manchester, 21-22
    • Something (not my house doesn’t count) street, Salford 22-23
    • Back to New Mills, Derbyshire 23 – still 23
    • The Abbey, Isle of Iona 23 – 25
    • Gardner Street, Broomhill, Glasgow 25 – 26.
    • Ayrsome Road, then Bouverie Road, then Albion Road; Stoke Newington, London; 26 – 28.
    • Gloucester Passage, then Foundry Street, North Laine, Brighton; 28 – 31
    • Harrison @ 5th SoMa, San Francisco, 31-32
    • Noe Valley, San Francisco 32-33.
    • Seven Dials, Brighton 33-now.

  9. I can be organised. And grown up.

    I just don’t want to be.


Photos:

Honestly. I will add some here soon. There are enough on the internet, though.

Contact me:

If you should, by chance, want to email me, then send a message (remove the bit in capitals in the email address, remember) here. I’ll read it, promise.

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This is a little red boat. Little, red, and boaty.

I still post. Occasionally. Honest, I do.