I like to think I’m quite a self-aware person, but sometimes I have literally no idea.
When compiling my first poetry collection – Bone Ovation – initially I wasn’t sure what the connection was between the folky-poemy-pieces. I named the collection after its last poem, but it wasn’t until a sit down chat with Jamie McGarry of Valley Press (with gin!) that he pointed out that all the poems featured bones, foundations.
So Bone Ovation was even more relevant than I thought.
And now that I’ve written two poetry collections, two novels, and several other TOP SECRET books that I can’t talk about yet, I’m finally starting to see another connection.

I am in love with winter.
Winter features heavily across all of my writing. I’ve looked over my shoulder and behind me are snowy tundras, stormy seas, and icy paths through bare-branched forests.
Though I love fresh crisp, fresh air on my face, it’s not that I love the cold. I do prefer it to hot weather, in which I swell up like a balloon and get very grumpy. But it’s more than that.
I’ve wondered why winter seems like the perfect setting for my stories. Perhaps it’s the silence, the way the world sleeps. Perhaps it’s how we bundle up against the elements, secure in our little bubbles. Perhaps it’s because at winter we draw close to each other and become human again.
I write character pieces. And in the dead of winter, people come alive.
I recently chatted with my excellent author friend Gabriela Houston, and she recently realised that autumn features heavily across her work. She even wrote a wonderful blog post about it.
What’s your season? I’d love to know in the comments!
