It’s November, which means it’s National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo is the brainchild of Chris Baty, a freelance writer based in San Francisco. The project started in July 1999 with only 21 participants, before moving to November the following year to “take advantage of the miserable weather”.
The news that a documentary on Back to Black, Amy Winehouse’s seminal album, is due out next month was so exciting that I immediately started listening to her music on repeat.
I was browsing an Irish website that sells sex toys (ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies, my friends) and I came across something that has haunted me ever since.
On a recent episode of one of my favourite podcasts, the High Low, the journalists Dolly Alderton and Pandora Sykes discussed the increasing popularity of sending voice notes on WhatsApp.
Are we all in agreement that New Year’s Eve is the worst night of the year? There’s too much pressure to have a good time, you can’t get a drink at the bar (oh, the humanity!), you have to pretend you know the words to Auld Lang Syne, and to add insult to injury, you are subjected to countless videos on Facebook of the ‘My Year in Ten Million Photos’ variety.
Much to the surprise of some readers of this column (thank you, strange man on the internet for telling me I was ‘permanently outraged’ and ‘exhausting’ — I truly believe we could have a future together. Call me), I’m not very confrontational.
“Dear Louise, I was raped five years ago and I have been in counselling ever since. After reading your book, for the first time in five years I thought — maybe it was not my fault.”