Blogaversary Series: Day One

Hello readers! As you might have guessed for the title of this post, Tolstoy is my Cat is two years old this week!

I wanted to celebrate this as a way of saying a big THANK YOU to all my readers who've visited and perhaps stayed during that time, so I thought I'd delve back into the archive and post two links every day with a little explanation of why I have chosen to bring them from the dusty basement of my back-list back into the foreground once more. Also, look out for a give-away on one of the days this week...

1. My first link of the day is my post How Pathetic is your Fallacy? from January 2011, in which I talk about reading Emma Forrest's 'Your Voice in My Head' and Boris Pasternak's sublime 'Doctor Zhivago' whilst in Austria in the snow. 

Reason: When I first started this blog, I was quite focused on exploring the techniques of good writing, probably because I was doing a number of writing courses at that time. In a way, I used blog posts like this one as a test for myself, to check that I really understood what I was talking about when it came to things like literary devices and also to check that I could somehow incorporate them into something I was writing.

Pathetic fallacy was always a literary device I revered and was entertained by, even when I'd sit in the classroom becoming quietly obsessed with such things, probably like a lot of other bookish people out there. Also, this is a nice post for me to re-read as it features two of my favourite books from recent years and reminds me of a really beautiful, peaceful holiday.

2. My second link for the day is 'Snow', a flash fiction piece I posted on the blog early last year, which was nominated for the 3 Quarks Daily Art & Literature Prize 2011.

Reason: It was so exciting for me to be listed amongst pieces from The Millions, Millicent and Carla Fran and the oft mentioned Simon from Stuck in a Book: it was a real confidence booster for me, and brought many new readers into my fledgling blog. It was also my first experience of the connective power of blogging - I asked people to vote for me and they very kindly did, so much so that I finished first - and it was my first piece of fiction to be approved in some way by anyone other than a course-mate or a relative, which was obviously lovely and, again, gave me a great confidence boost.

So, check back tomorrow for two more of my favourite links from the archive... 

Also, feel free to share this post as a small blogaversary present to me, as what is a party without some new friends?







7 People I'd Like To Be [Friends With] When I Grow Up

Everyone needs role models. Here are mine:







Book Quote Friday: Making Your Mother Blush

     If we're really thinking about it (let's do that. Yawn, stretch.), I guess one might liken fiction writing to the laying out of the contents of your mind, experience and imagination on the tablecloth, and then obscuring it from sight by applying layers of narrative, characterisation or style. 

     Ideally this adding of layers generalises it, allowing it to transcend the writer’s individual experience, making it palatable and accessible and, all being well, moving it from the realm of the confessional into the realm of art. Some writers layer thickly, others less so. The thinnest veils come inevitably with biography or memoir, when the writer themself is the story and there is no extra narrative or characterisation added as a disguise. This is known as letting it all hang out*.







How Pathetic is your Fallacy?

     Pathetic fallacy is a somewhat clichéd device, most often seen when a distressed person walks around in the rain or a happy couple frolic in the sun, but something I like to do as a reader is create my own i.e. read books in locations that reflect their content, location or tone to enhance my enjoyment of them.

     I spent the last week in a tiny Austrian village near Salzburg and it was as you might picture it – epic mountains, rustic detailing, piles and piles of snow. You might think of this is the ideal place to splash out on winter sports kit and go play in the snow, but seeing as I definitely do not ski, and everyone else in the party does, for me it is the perfect place to read. So, rather than packing skis and helmets, I packed my snow boots, a notebook and oodles and oodles of books.