The Week That Was

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It’s almost midday on Sunday and I have yet to make it out of my pyjamas. I’m drinking a huge vat of tea, watching Miss Marple and trying to feel more like a functional human. Last night it took me almost two hours to excavate the floor from beneath the pile of clothes, shoes and scribbled on bits of paper which have, of late, passed for a bedroom carpet. This last week has felt a little like being run over by a bus, repeatedly. Up and down to Dublin three times in two days for events and interviews, a packed schedule of wonderful projects at the Ulster Hall and the incredible high of seeing Malcolm Orange Disappears on the shelves at Waterstones, have all made for a memorable, if somewhat overwhelming seven days. Somewhere in the mix I’ve lost my Iphone screen (again), my ability to sleep for more than five hours and my favourite sunglasses; small sacrifices in the grander scheme of things.

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About two months ago I wrote about gearing myself up for a packed May and yet, as June progresses, things show no sign of slowing down or becoming any less hectic. It’s a little like being caught up in a merry go round that just keeps speeding up. This week has been extremely rough in places. There have been moments when my body has felt like it’s just about to give up and fall over, times when I’ve felt so overwhelmed by my diary that I’ve wanted to get in  the car and disappear for a few weeks and whole half hours when I’ve simply run out of words and found myself staring blankly at my office wall. I’m not complaining. It’s an incredible journey to be on and exhaustion is the natural side effect of having enjoyed so many positive experiences crammed into one small week. Visiting the Newsweek studio in Dublin for an interview with David McWilliams was wonderful, as was the Irish Writers’ Centre Launch, the incredible dance workshops we hosted for young people with disabilities yesterday, and of course, Mr Dylan in concert. These are just four small snapshots from a week where I have felt incredibly fortunate to be doing what I do.



It’s been a big week and an extremely good week and, tired as I am, this schedule is really beginning to teach me a lot about living in the moment and not panicking too much about tomorrow. If I don’t take the time to enjoy each new experience as it arrives and I spend my energy focusing on next week’s mountains, all of this is going to fly past me unappreciated. As someone so rightly said to me yesterday, “there will be other books, but you’ll never get the chance to enjoy your first book again.” So I’m blogging some photos this morning of where I’ve been in the last seven days. Everything from national radio to bouncing around like half wits at Izzy’s fourth birthday and watching the sun come down over Cave Hill with cake and good friends. It’s been an avalanche of a week, in the very best sense.


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