Twelfth Night

6th of January today – officially the end of the Christmas season. For me and my family, this signals something of a relief. We had a bad Christmas. I write this in Trinidad. I’ve been here the last three weeks. On the 18th December we had four hours of torrential rain – ten inches of water. Outside my mother’s flat we watched the main road turn into a brown raging torrent. Cars floating past. We rang my brother, knowing his home is often badly hit by floods – to hear his distraught voice: “We’ve lost everything.”

A tsunami of brown water came down the hill and knocked down his garden walls and entered his home. Much was swept away – luckily not his family. His whole street was badly hit. We spent the next week digging him out. So Christmas day was subdued. New Year too. Dinner with my family and fireworks and a game of Scrabble with my mother.

Now it’s 2009.  Six is my lucky number. So I start this blog on the 6th. The end of a season. The start of my new life as a blogger.

Book news this end? I will be teaching two workshop in Trinidad at a bookshop here called The Reader’s Bookshop. The shop is run by Chris Mendes, (no relation of the film maker Sam and his grandfather Alfie). Chris’ books shop is easily the best in Port of Spain, on the corner of a side street next to Long Circular Mall. If you ever visit Port of Spain – do drop in.

I am also waiting on tenter hooks for my agent, Isobel Dixon, to read my new book proposal. Yikes. If she sells it I will do quite a bit of travelling this year.

I have been reading tons – poetry, Olive Senior’s last collection, Gardening in the Tropics – which is great. Memoirs too, Christy Brown’s My Left Foot and Simone de Beauvoir’s Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter. Some Ken Wilbur and Osho’s Sex Matters, Sex and the Superconscious. All prepartion for the next book. I return to the UK in a week. But first some more time on Las Cuevas beach and touring the interior of Trinidad, maybe a trip to the swamp. De swaaamp – as they say here.

I launch this site, also, with a poem by my great chum Catherine Smith. Request – a sexy sonnet. Catherine’s last collection Lip was short-listed for the Forward Prize – so sexy was it that I told her she won I’d eat my knickers.

Enough of this chatter.


~ by moniqueroffey on January 6, 2009.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: