Islands are like magnets to me. Some I’ve visited because I was commissioned to write about them, or run workshops on them, others simply because I was curious. Sometimes my notes stay in one of my drawing books, biding their time before they emerge, perhaps in another iteration, or woven into another story. The stamp featuring Jean Grey was a chance find. I didn’t really know who she was, but apparently she has special powers, which I wish I had too. Jellyfish appear on the Hven (aka Ven) drawing because I went swimming from one of its beaches. I’m terribly shortsighted, and suddenly realised I was surrounded by a crowd of beautiful jellyfish, swimming alongside. Luckily the non-stinging type. Or maybe it was island magic. After all, the island, floating in the Oresund between Denmark and Sweden, had once belonged to a 16th century astronomer and magician.
Last week showing solidarity with other authors outside Meta’s HQ in Kings Cross.
A week or so ago I was sent a copy of this photo of me with an older sister (top right) and two cousins. It was taken in my Nottingham grandmother’s garden I think. She also had a large dressing up box in her ‘haunted’ attic. A tiny and sickly child, I was sent briefly to stay with my aunt and uncle in Skegness for a few days. I was in heaven as my cousins, seen here, had copies of just about every Dandy and Beano annual. I was later mortified during that visit by my falling into Skegness boating lake and being rescued by my boy cousin (here wearing a blonde wig). He then carried me, dripping wet, back home on his shoulders. What a hero! I found his father, my large uncle, rather terrifying. In charge of Skegness lifeboat and a keen birdwatcher, he blew on a hunting horn before his dinner. In a good natured way, my aunt assured me.
This is 
Another 
Last week I visited an 
Then, volunteers from the audience pulled faces showing different moods. Children drew them as characters and gave them a voice. No actual cats involved.
Just a small sample of the wonderful drawings made that morning by a group of fifty or so. Early the next day a box of flowers was delivered with this card – how lovely!
There were two types of soup at the tennis club cafe – lime green and bright orange. They tasted the same. The occasional sound of laughter and lovely plocking of tennis balls outside made up for the dreadful soup. I wondered about the identity of the owners of the two racquets on the wall.
Yesterday experienced a bit of nostalgia … for when the world wasn’t quite so bonkers, and when you could actually go and visit a publisher with an idea and some pictures after talking to them on the phone. The publisher said come round but you must demonstrate how at least two of these tricks work. My list included Tangle Torture, Stuck to the Floor and Unexpected Goose. I did the demo but one of the tricks went badly wrong (the publisher was … briefly incapacitated), so I expected the worst. 
‘Aha!’ said a member of Glasgow airport’s security staff as a small Royal person was revealed lurking at the bottom of my suitcase. Ten years ago this summer, whilst returning from the Outer Hebrides, my luggage set off a shrill alarm.
For two weeks that August I’d been running workshops in seven schools dotted round the coast of the
Locals thought they were elves. No one knows for sure where they were from, but probably from Norway? ’Where exactly were they found?’ I asked at the little shop, but locals won’t say. They don’t want visiting treasure hunters digging on their beach. The beach is beautiful, miles of white sand. ‘It’s very crowded today,’ a new friend observed. There were five people on the beach.
As a pre-Christmas treat last year I visited Mars, travelling by boat. After all I’ve worked as a 
The Painted Hall itself is part of the old Royal Naval College, where once pensioned off sailors took their meals. Paintings of historical and mythological characters celebrating power, including Mars the god of war, adorn its ceiling and walls. It’s the work of 18th century artist 
An enthusiastic and knowledgeable guide, met by chance, related how during restoration of this wall, where naval officers dined at the raised end of the Hall, traces of gravy were removed from its painted surfaces. Thrown by boisterous officers after an over-indulgent meal perhaps.
Lying on the floor to get a better view of the ceiling, I spotted the portrait of the only pensioned off sailor included amongst the celebrities, an old bearded seadog called John Worley, here posing as Winter. Tucked into another corner was 16th century Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe. Years ago I was commissioned by London’s Evening Standard to visit and write about Ven, Tycho’s island home and site of his magical observatories. Years later Tycho was included in 
