INKY SQUIGGLES

Spot the difference. Embracing the four-eyed life I'd been wearing glasses for around twenty years, after a short-lived phase in early secondary school of 'forgetting' my pair in an effort to look cool. Somehow the penalty -- squinting in vain across the dining hall for familiar faces -- seemed worth it at the time.  'You really need to wear these at all times,' my horrified optician scolded me after I casually revealed this. And so I came to terms with the fact that some things -- like seeing where I'm going -- should probably rank above others -- like whether my glasses clashed with my outfit. Eventually, I even grew to like my glasses, assimilating them into my style and routinely opting for their familiar comfort over the hassle and waste of contact lenses. So when the time came to refresh my pair, which had -- quite literally -- seen me through multiple job and house moves, a postgraduate course and a pandemic, I took the task seriously. I spent hours combi...

I might be unable to venture much further than the sheep-dotted Teesdale hills near my small hometown due to nationwide lockdown, but one can still dream of broader horizons. One of my favourite ways of travelling vicariously is through adventure games. These often emphasise immersion in another place or time, whether real or imagined, and the best examples achieve this through a combination of carefully constructed characters, mood-making music and fully realised settings. Rather than focus on the characters, who act as the natural faces of the games, however, I'd like to direct the spotlight to lesser-recognised characters – the locations themselves. From sleepy small towns in the Japanese countryside to the far-flung Wyoming wilderness, these game locations have inspired my own travel bucket list and creative writing as well as eased my anxiety during times of high stress and uncertainty (like now). The Longest Journey , Venice, Newport (New York's East Village), US ...

Charlie Changes into a Chicken by Sam Copeland  (writer) and Sarah Horne (illustrator) , £6.99 (Penguin, 9780241346211) Publication date: 7 February 2019 My rating:  ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ Meet Charlie. He’s a fairly normal nine-year-old who enjoys playing FIFA on the PS4 and tries to stay positive—even though he’s the target of the school bully and his brother is in hospital. Oh, and he also happens to turn into a colourful menagerie of animals when he least expects it, from a high-hopping flea to an incontinent rhino. Young readers are sure to be delighted by Charlie’s lively tale, which begins in action-packed fashion and manages to sustain its pace throughout. Each animal transformation is as unpredictable as its consequences, setting off an imaginative chain of preposterous events.

Photo credit: Rick's Photo Thing Last September, I started a new chapter in a book I had convinced myself I had long since finished. Resuming higher education through an MA in Publishing wasn't something I'd mapped out as part of any five-year postgraduate plan. Though I had toyed with the possibility as a recent graduate, this was more out of a sense of obligation than anything else. Besides, I wasn't exactly grief-stricken to see the back of late-night essay-writing frenzies and endless grade-chasing. While I went on to pursue journalism training, this turned out to be one of the most unbalanced and stressful periods of my life. Why, then, was I potentially putting myself through something like that again?

I recently read an article about "imposter syndrome" and recognized myself within it. Imposter syndrome is basically the feeling of being inadequate, in spite of evidence of high achievement; it leaves people afraid that they will be "found out" and exposed as frauds in their field. I've felt this way...

Three stories up. Unforgiving concrete below. My heart was hammering in my throat as I swung my leg over the balustrade of the balcony, and I froze, suddenly and acutely aware that dying was a possibility if I messed this up. But I had to get out of the house. Everything I wanted was out of the house. I simply couldn’t stay in the house any longer. Climbing from my balcony to my next door neighbour’s balcony was the only way out, since there was a party in the street below and many guests had parked their motorbikes and were sitting at tables right outside my front door. I didn’t know how long the party was going to continue. Eyeing the celebrations below me, I wondered how traumatic it might be for the guests if a phalang (foreigner) suddenly crashed their party—literally.