Tag Archives: John Simmons

Breaking up is hard to do

I’ve been dismembering one of my books, painstakingly taking it apart, page by page, so that each comes away from the glue of the spine cleanly, a perfect rectangle. It’s a strange, not entirely comfortable, feeling. The book in question … Continue reading

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A time for kindling

There are some things you just have to take on the chin. Ten days ago we had our annual Dark Angels get-together. John comes up to Edinburgh from London. Stuart and I meet him at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. … Continue reading

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26 Treasures Unbound

A little over a year ago I went to see Sandy Richardson, head of development at the National Museum of Scotland, to tell him about the 26 Treasures project and to ask if he might be interested in helping us … Continue reading

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Finca Banega

Today John Simmons and Stuart Delves are in Spain with the Dark Angels advanced group and I’m preparing to leave for Hyderabad in the morning. It has been a strange day, knowing they’re there in that beautiful place, basking in … Continue reading

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Overconnected

Hyper-connectivity is not a word I’d heard until yesterday lunch-time, or if I had, it hadn’t registered. It has now. I was listening to three writers talking on Radio 4 about how our lives are being affected by our unprecedented … Continue reading

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Labour of love

This is a commercial and I make no apologies for it. My friend John Simmons has written and published a beautiful book. It’s called The angel of the stories. It’s about a young woman called Julia who lives in a … Continue reading

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Rhythm and blues

How we need rhythm in our lives. For the last four months, John Simmons and I have been batting back and forth chapters of Room 121 on an almost daily basis (a form of exchange, and therefore of book, it … Continue reading

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Three friends

This week I’ve been in London, putting the finishing touches to the book that John Simmons and I have been writing together. Called Room 121, it’s a conversation that takes the form of alternating blog posts, and it will be … Continue reading

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Skating backwards

I don’t remember the miseries of the winter of 1963 (no running water in the house for several weeks, among other things, I’m told). I just remember the fun. I was fourteen, home from boarding school, and Perthshire was a … Continue reading

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