Nothing good rhymes with Charlotte -

23 unspoken promises behind every great female friendship

05/06/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

1.That neither of us will ever say “I really shouldn’t” when the dessert menu comes and let that stop us ordering something.

2. That you’ll never mention it when I show up in a piece of clothing that clearly should have been ironed. I know it, you know it, but I just couldn’t be arsed, OK?

3. That wherever we are and whatever we’re doing, cake will always be an appropriate snack.

4. That if one of us fails to get the job or the boyfriend or the house that we wanted, the other will provide the required dose of IT’S THEIR LOSS ANYWAY, BABE, YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER to restore our faith in humanity.

5. That whatever it is, you can tell me.

6. That you’ll smile and nod when I start talking about the level to which it is currently KICKING OFF in Coronation Street [or enter your own televisual favourite here] – despite not watching, caring, or wishing to hear a single detail more about it.

7. That if there is something on my face that shouldn’t be there, you will tell me STRAIGHT AWAY.

8. That I will always let you finish having a well-earned moan before I start to explain why things really aren’t that bad.

9. That if I’m being a dick, you’ll let me know. And that I’ll have the courage to do the same.

10. That when you ask me how ‘following my dreams’ is going, you’re prepared for a long and emotional response.

11. That when I cry at your wedding/birthday party/leaving do, you’ll be kind enough to lie and say that nobody noticed.

12. That we’ll run all photographic evidence of a night out that involved dancing passed each other before uploading it to social media.

13. That we can discuss the highs and lows of having bodies, bowels and brains without embarrassment. There’s no room for shame between friends.

14. That I may not have the required skirt, hair, or ability to kick my legs more than two inches above the ground, but I will be your cheerleader for life.

15. That ‘because I was planning to spend today doing absolutely nothing’ is a perfectly reasonable response to the suggestion of a get together. Everybody needs their space.

16. That I won’t let you walk around with food all over your top. I can’t promise I’ll always have a replacement on me, but I will dab the hell out of that stain like any good friend should.

17. That we won’t feel the need to beat each other around the head with our mistakes – but just to slowly place them under the other person’s eyes if it looks like they might accidentally start walking down that road again.

18. That a ‘What are you wearing tonight?’ text message sent ahead of an evening out will always receive a thorough response to ease the nerves of the woman who sent it (who is no doubt currently on her knees in front of her wardrobe and claiming she has so few clothes that she may as well just cut three holes in a bin bag and wear that etc.).

19. That we’ll both just pretend not to notice what happens to our hair in hot weather.

20. That you understand that when I buy a bag of Percy Pigs, it’s because I want to eat every single one of them. Best get your own packet, yeah?

21. That if you choose to spend your life with someone, I will not let you settle for anything less than the superhero you deserve.

22. That we’ll put the necessary effort in to making sure we’re still friends when we’re old and grey.

23. And that you’ll be kind enough not to mention that I am already both of those things.

Solitude is good for you, loneliness is not

29/05/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

No matter what I’m doing, where I am, or who I’m with, I’m always conscious of the next time that I’ll get to be on my own. It doesn’t matter how much fun I’m having, the knowledge is always there, like a security blanket I never thought I’d need.

For me, solitude is as important as breakfast. I need a strong dose of it everyday to help me stay upright. Partly because I have social anxiety, so get-togethers can be a bit exhausting, but also because I’m 30 years old and this is what it’s like to be a grown up – we love other people’s company but we enjoy our own just as much.

Sometimes I wonder if I look forward to a social interaction being over as much as I do the event itself. I feel a great sense of achievement when I’ve been out and had a great time – when I’ve been to a party and stopped noticing whether I’m enjoying it or not because I just am. I love coming home knowing I’ve done some seriously good socialising and then feeling free to enjoy a spot of solitude because I’ve earnt it.

Time alone hasn’t always felt so precious, though. I’ve written before about how we all have to learn to love our own company. When I was at university, my friend Emma and I would hang out – sometimes in lectures, often at her house, mostly in Primark – and then she’d disappear off for an afternoon nap to prepare for whatever evening activity we had planned. She needed a rest and some shut-eye before further fun could commence.

But I didn’t need this break. We still laugh now about how I’d say “If you need me, I’ll be at home, lying down with my eyes shut,” because I wanted to join in but I just couldn’t nap. (I still can’t, actually, unless I’ve had an alcoholic drink, in which case NIGHT NIGHT.) I didn’t know what to do with the time. I was bored on my own, I’d have to go and buy a magazine to entertain myself. I’d will the time away until somebody was free to come and play with me.

And yet now I crave that time. Modern life demands a lot from us. We work, we go out, and we’re all constantly in touch with each other via phones and emails and apps I sometimes wish had never been invented. If a colleague says they have no plans for the weekend, you can hear the office groan with envy at their freedom, everybody else’s diaries gasping for a gap to pop a wash on, do the weeding, or just lie down.

It’s hard to keep going non-stop for days on end. We need time when we don’t have to think about making the right facial expression or saying the right thing. A bit of space to think it all over, or to think about nothing; to be alive but hardly moving. I like to have a bath and do a face mask. I like to watch Friends episodes I’ve seen so many times that it feels like some of the storylines actually happened to me. And I like to go to bed without having to set an alarm because – for once – nobody is expecting me to be anywhere the next day.

I say all of this mindful that I can enjoy occasional solitude because it’s a treat, not a constant. I’m not lonely. Leon will be home again in a few hours, all being well. I have dates in the diary to see my friends and family soon which I’m looking forward to. Without these things it would be a different story. It is for so many people. The joy of solitude is not to be taken for granted because it’s only a pleasure when it’s a break from the norm.

The realisation hit me hard after we got married that even forever has an end point, that we’d signed up to be each other’s world and that we were relying on each other for company for the rest of our lives. I’ve had to force myself not to worry about it all the time, but I try to hold this knowledge close when I’m frustrated to find the fridge door has been left ajar, or that a world of grated cheese has mysteriously appeared on the kitchen worktop after somebody has come home from the pub. I try to think – what does it even matter? A love of cheese was all I ever wanted in a man. We can buy more. I’m just glad you’re home.

Like everything in life, it’s all about balance. I’ve spent today alone. I made a bacon sandwich and set the smoke alarm off. I listened to Hugh Bonneville’s Desert Island Discs and cried twice, as is standard for an episode of D.I.D. I saw for myself what it means when a cat starts digging a small hole in your back garden (no, it is not treasure they’re planning to bury). And I sat outside and wrote this.

But tomorrow I’ll be in company again and I wouldn’t have it any other way. What’s important is to know yourself well enough to build in what you need, and to try not to budge if anyone suggests that you do otherwise. You can feel it in your bones when you need a rest. Look in the mirror and your eyes will beg you not to leave the house, to stop just for a little while.

I am grateful for a life that is busy enough for a spot of alone time to feel like a treat. Like all luxuries, a life filled with solitude just wouldn’t be right, but a regular dose will do wonders for your health.

On getting older and making CHOICES

15/05/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

When I sit down to write this blog, I rarely know what I’m going to talk about until I start typing.

I tend to perch myself on the edge of the sofa, thus adding an element of drama to proceedings, turn over all the things I’ve been thinking and talking about in my mind, and then start writing about one of them. (I realise you didn’t necessarily ask about my writing process, but I’ve been enjoying the My Writing Day series in the Guardian so much that I just couldn’t help myself).

And today, that process made me realise that the subject of most relevance to me right now is the variety of CHOICES we make as we get older. So here’s some thoughts on that:

When Wednesday rolls around and I have special, dedicated time for doing my freelance writing thing, the whole day is about choice. Who will I pitch to? Which idea is worth pursuing? Will I let myself be distracted by the pile of hand-washing that suddenly looks so appealing now that I’m supposed to be doing work? Or will I chase the dollar and get to 6pm before realising I haven’t breathed an ounce of fresh air (or as fresh as London can offer) since yesterday? So many choices and so little time. I spend hours wondering if I’m making the right decisions, as I’m sure we all do.

On a related note, I’ve come to realise how helpful it is when editors choose to spend a few seconds sending a response to a pitch to let you know that it’s not quite right. Nobody likes to be rejected but it’s still so much more helpful than silence. I can tick them off on my list, move on, and try to do better next time. I know that people are busy – and that lots of editors receive so many emails each day that responding is just not feasible – but when you spend your day seemingly sending emails into the abyss, it’s good to feel acknowledged, and hopefully one step closer to getting it right.

Our time is precious and choosing who we spend it with is a serious decision. Sometimes we choose to fight for more time with a person, and sometimes we decide to step away because, for whatever reason, the relationship just isn’t giving us what we need. My new rule is: if it feels like someone is stealing your time rather than giving you the gift of theirs, it’s time to make a change.

This week I chose to take Facebook off my phone. It was making me feel anxious and stressed and constantly in demand and I didn’t like it. Even though the little red notifications were rarely aimed at me personally, I felt that if I didn’t click right now to see what was going on, I’d be missing out or being disorganised in some way. I haven’t ‘left’ Facebook – chill out – I’ve just left it on my laptop for looking at when I want to, rather than carrying it around in my hand all the time. And I feel a lot better for it.

I like writing on here about my life, the lessons I’ve learnt, the things I find interesting, and I like sharing tips and advice that I can only hope someone will find useful. Whether you write for a living or for fun, you have to make a choice about what you will and won’t share. Whenever I come to this blog, I think through the unwritten policies that decide what I write about. For example, I want you to feel like you know me but not so well that I may as well have hung my laundry around your lounge. I want you to know that I’m human without making myself too vulnerable. I want to talk about my marriage without sharing so much that I somehow bring it to an end. It’s nice to have a place where I make the rules – and where I can choose to break them any time I like.

For the last week or so I’ve been getting up just a little bit earlier than usual to start writing some fiction. I don’t really know how to do that (but does anyone before they try?) so I’ve just been sitting down with a pen and my idea and seeing where it takes me. I do about 20 minutes a day whilst still wearing my pyjamas and with my husband sound asleep upstairs and each session gets me about two or three pages of words. Not words I’d like anyone to read right now, mind – my goodness no – but it’s a start. I realised that if I wanted to try, I needed to choose to find more hours in the day. It turns out they are there if you’re willing to respond to a slightly earlier alarm.

It’s very much acknowledged now that we’re a bit older that we have to build time into our lives to do nothing. To choose to have days when we class ourselves as being busy, but what we mean is that we’ll be busy doing nothing. Looking after ourselves. Managing our mental health. Eating our way through our second bag of Wispa Bites. Whatever. This time is ours. Please don’t come round.

We’re about to go on holiday and I’m choosing – as much as possible – to have an internet free time. I want to look at Florence, not my phone. I want to scroll through lists of gelato flavours, not pictures of other people’s lattes. And I want to talk to my husband face-to-face, rather than typing away about idontevenknowwhat on a device that I’m becoming more and more sure is trying to kill me. I choose to have some time off, and I can’t bloody wait.

7 things that happen when you become an auntie

17/04/2016 by Charlotte 4 Comments

7 things that happen when you become an auntie My biggest news for 2016 so far is that at the end of February, I became an auntie.

My brother and his girlfriend announced the arrival of little Jack and life has never been the same since. Well, mostly for them of course – I still get a strong 7-8 hours sleep, can have a shower whenever I want, and am responsible for nothing except feeding my cheese on toast addiction. But my brain is all about baby Jack and when I’m next going to get to have a cuddle of him.

A new baby joining the family is life-changing for everyone. Conversations, decisions and occasions all revolve around him now. He has more power than any of us job-holding, mortgage-paying, degree-awarded adults, and he’s only been in the world for 53 days, the clever little thing.

I’m taking my new role as an auntie extremely seriously and enjoying every second of it. Here’s the inevitable listicle about what life is like when your nephew (or niece) has arrived. In short: pretty darn swell:

1. You stare at their photograph like a lovestruck boy band fan – The morning after Jack was born, my husband found me lying in bed, glued to the picture my brother had sent through of him the night before. I was completely in love with a baby I had never met. Scrolling through photos of the little dude is now my favourite pastime. As soon as a major baby comes into your life, you understand why parents can’t help but take pictures of their child’s every movement – their existence will never cease to feel miraculous.

2. You develop a newfound respect for your sibling – One minute your brother’s refusing to let you have a go on his Game Boy and making you so angry that you run into his bedroom and rip his posters off the wall (as discussed previously we didn’t always make life easy for each other when we were growing up), and the next he’s presenting you with his brand new baby son and making you feel so proud that you burst into tears. Having a brother really is an emotional roller coaster. Seeing your sibling and their partner more tired than they’ve ever been and yet still doing an amazing job of looking after their little one is enough to make you bow down in awe. Leon and I might think that staying up late watching old episodes of Family Guy makes us tired but something tells me that we don’t yet know the meaning of the word.

3. You and your partner vow to be the best aunt and uncle the world has ever seen – We were beside ourselves with excitement when we were heading up north to meet our nephew. I didn’t quite realise until he was born how much his arrival would feel like a gift for us too. We’ve cooed over little outfits together (often discussing just how many of the patterns on Babygros we would both happily wear on our own clothes), we’ve considered all the London sites we’re going to show him when he comes to visit, and we’ve wondered just how old the little guy will have to be before we stop referring to him as ‘baby Jack’. (Our current estimate is 18).

4. You’d think that no other baby had ever been born – I do know that Jack is not the first baby ever to grace the planet. I understand that I was once a baby and that you were too. And yet I can’t help but feel that there is something extra special about this one. In conversations I want to say “No but you don’t understand, this guy is extraordinary. I swear, nobody has ever worn dungarees so well.” But I know this is just what happens when you have a new little human in your life. In the interests of avoiding being branded a mad aunt at this early stage, I’m trying to keep this kind of observation to a minimum (although seriously his style is on point).

5. You give yourself far too much credit – When I arrived at his house this weekend, after just a few minutes of trying to figure out which part of my chest was most comfortable, Jack fell asleep. And even though my head knew that he would definitely have drifted off anyway no matter where he was lying, my heart remained open to the idea that I was in fact a baby whisperer.

6. You discover that ‘eau de baby’ is your new favourite smell – It’s a good thing that it’s not possible to inhale an entire baby otherwise I fear I might have done just that. Everybody says it but my word they smell amazing. I find myself sniffing the clothes I wore to visit Jack just to get a little dose of that gorgeous milky scent. It’s such a shame we all lose our newborn smell; I’m sure commuting through London would be a much more pleasant experience if everybody smelt like a freshly baked biscuit, instead of a hot sweaty mess of body odour, coffee, and rage.

7. You get to watch somebody learn how to be a person – The first time I met Jack he was only 10 days old. He was the littlest human I had ever seen. This time, just over a month later, he was still small, as you would expect of a baby, but he had clearly already learnt so much about the world. He can pretty much hold his own head up all by himself, he can knock back an entire bottle of milk without even needing to come up for air, and he can smile. These are major achievements. The only thing I’ve learnt in the last month is that eating two creme eggs in a day will make you feel just as nauseous as you would expect. If being an auntie has taught me anything, it’s that I really need to start making better use of my time.

My egg timer is my best friend – 9 lessons all writers learn

10/04/2016 by Charlotte 4 Comments

Do what you love I’ve been pretty busy. I’ve been working a lot, I’ve been writing a lot and, as a result, I haven’t been blogging so much because, well, I’m not a machine.

I don’t like it when I don’t have time to throw some words down on here. Writing this blog helps keep me in touch with whatever readership I’ve managed to build (HI MUM!) and it also keeps my thoughts in order.

When I haven’t written a post for a while I get nervous – that I’ll have forgotten how to do it, that my creative ability will have disappeared never to return, and that when I do write something, my readers will respond like a cat that’s been left alone for the day – dismissive, cold, and off out the back door to see what somebody more loyal has got to offer them before I’ve even had the chance to explain or pour out some milk.

But I guess this is an inevitable consequence of gradually getting more writing work and, aside from the unfortunate neglect of Nothing good rhymes with Charlotte enthusiasts, it’s something I’m starting to feel good about. Baby steps are still steps, dear friends.

You might remember that a few months ago I wrote a little piece about the things you have to do when starting out as a freelance writer. I stand by them all and now have even more lessons to add to the list.

1. Your egg timer is your best friend. No, really: We don’t go for cocktails together or discuss our boy problems, but my egg timer and I might as well, considering the amount of time we spend together. If I want to get anything done, I have to set my egg timer for 20 minutes, half an hour, or an hour to force me to concentrate. While that clock is ticking, I am not allowed to dick around on Twitter, feel inadequate whilst looking at Facebook, or scroll through Instagram and wonder why I fail to live my entire life against a perfect white backdrop. No, I have to work. And when the timer dings, I am allowed to go to the toilet, make a drink, and then sit the hell down and start again. This is what discipline looks like in the modern world and I don’t know what I’d do without it.

2. You have to do the work whenever it comes: As somebody who has spent almost every Sunday during the last five years strapped to a laptop, I am used to handing some of my weekend over to work. I have made a life choice which requires such behaviour. But as my writing work has very gradually started to grow, I’ve had to give up more than the occasional Sunday. You do the work whenever it needs to be done – whether that means the evening, early mornings, or an entire weekend. It’s a little tough to get your head around at first but when you’re trying to build something of your own, there’s really no other way to do it, especially when you still have a day job most of the week, as I do. But the fact that it belongs to you means you won’t really mind at all. You’ll just be a bit tired and consume more snacks than you ever thought possible.

3. Say yes and say it quickly: It’s extremely annoying when people tell you that success is often down to being in the right place at the right time. It’s even more annoying when they tell you that it’s also all about who you know. But they’re right. You’ve got to leap the moment you see something come up, otherwise somebody else will get in there first. You’ve got to tell the people you know what you’re trying to do so that maybe one day they’ll employ you to do it for them, or recommend you to somebody else. Just like when my mum told me that if I ate a whole bag of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons before I went to bed I’d get a stomach ache, it turns out people only say these things because they’re true.

4. …except to requests for you to write for free: Being asked to work for free is just part of the writing game these days unfortunately. When you’re at the very start of your career there is real value in taking all the opportunities that come your way – like any industry, everybody needs work experience – but then comes the moment when you realise you’ve done your time, you know what you’re doing, and you’re in this to make a living. Getting there felt bold but good and I won’t be turning back.

5. You have to be single-minded: I have to completely ignore my husband a lot of the time. He has become used to sitting in the house with a woman who speaks only to request a drink, ask if there are any Muller Crunch Corner yogurts left in the fridge, and to request that he please turn Better Call Saul down as she’s trying to concentrate. This was not included in our wedding vows. But then neither was the promise that being married to a lawyer would mean I could no longer enjoy legal dramas without constant reminders that they’re simply not realistic. We all have to make sacrifices. I am very grateful for the constant, unquestioning support I receive and without which attempting to follow my dreams would be a lot harder. From the looks of things, he is also grateful for the unlimited X-Box time that my pursuits enable him to incorporate into a weekend.

6. Repetitive strain happens: I reached peak First World Problem after a solid weekend of tapping away on my Mac when I realised I’d developed a repetitive strain injury throughout my right arm. My hand became a claw, my arm a solid block of ache, and my shoulders were so tight I think even the most skilled masseuse would have struggled to make a dent. I recommend learning how to operate a mouse with both your hands to avoid such injuries.

7. If you have to, buy yourself a rest: When you work for yourself and your house is your office, it can be a little tricky to switch off. Technically, you could always be doing some work, writing a pitch, or editing whatever nonsense made its way into your notebook that day. But that way lies exhaustion, tetchiness, and an all round rubbish house partner. You need to stop. And if that means paying to access your local spa, or for a train ticket to your mum’s house where she will speak to you like she used to when you tried to stay up beyond 10pm on a school night if you so much as look at a laptop screen, then so be it.

If you have to, buy yourself a rest 8. Telling somebody about an idea makes you feel accountable to them – and that’s a good thing: Like most people, I have lots of ideas every day. Some of them are creative and useful, and the rest could all be listed under the heading ‘Meals to which I could legitimately add cheese’. I’ve had a couple of ideas for longer form pieces of writing I’d like to do for a while but have been too scared to start. But then I told my husband and a couple of friends about them and now I feel like I have to give them a go because they’re going to ask me for an update and I do not like to let people down. If you don’t have a deadline created by an editor or an agent, I recommend making some up and getting people you like to hold you to them. If they’re real friends, they won’t stand for it when you try and use ‘being seriously behind with Coronation Street’ as an excuse for not having done any writing.

9. Rest assured, there is value in what you’re doing. As I’ve mentioned before, Wednesday is my most precious writing day. I experience a mix of emotions every week – sometimes I’m excited to get going on a project or to look around for work, and on others I sit staring out of the window and wonder what ever possessed me to spend my life in this way. This week started with a familiar bout of melancholy (not helped by having to dedicate half the day to filling in my tax return *twitches*) so I decided to start by listening to this recording of a speech by the author A.L Kennedy on the importance of the arts and writing and the difference it can make to people’s lives. It’s really quite amazing and gave me all the motivation I needed to get going. Because of course there is value in what we have to say and in expressing ourselves through our words.

Sometimes it helps to be reminded of that.

Body image: Be careful with your words

13/03/2016 by Charlotte 4 Comments

20151112_101751 After a week of activities celebrating all things International Women’s Day, one issue has stood out for me above all the rest.

Now this is a tricky statement – there’s a lot of stuff we need to put right, a lot standing between us and equality – and I’m not saying one thing matters more than another. I’m just saying that one topic that kept arising over and over again has really stuck in my mind and made me want to do something about it.

And that is: body image.

I went to see Caitlin Moran on Tuesday night (and wrote about it afterwards). I went to a brilliant event for UCL Women’s Day on Wednesday called ‘What’s funny about Everyday Sexism?’ and heard from the very funny and very wise Cally Beaton, Luisa Omielan and Laura Bates. And then this weekend I’ve been to more of the Women of the World Festival (WOW) at the Southbank Centre. (Yes I am quite tired now.)

And every single time, body image came up in a big way.

The way women and girls see themselves.

The inability so many of us have to just accept a compliment.

The level to which we – from a frighteningly young age – want to change the way we look, lose weight, be ‘prettier’.

The perception that ‘pretty’ means ‘successful’.

The terrifying damage that feeling we don’t look ‘right’ can do to our minds, our lives, our bodies.

The relentless apologising we do for our legs, our stomachs, our flesh.

The words so many of us use to describe ourselves – always caveated, mocking, self-deprecating.

The need for all of this to stop.

There are two short videos that you should watch on this subject:

At WOW, Radio 1 DJ and all-round excellent female Gemma Cairney showed a film she made for the festival last year. She’d been around the country speaking to young girls about the issues affecting them. It broke my heart.

Stand-up comedian Luisa Omielan does an amazing routine about the ridiculous way women speak about their bodies and why it needs to change. This woman is hilarious, wise as hell AND on YouTube.

We all know this is a big issue but it’s only when you see it on this scale, on this kind of stage that we realise how widespread it is and how urgently we need to make a change.

20160227_160954 I’ve written before about my own inability to take a compliment without making a joke. This remains a struggle. Partly because I enjoy making bad jokes more than I should, and partly because I’m genuinely just too embarrassed to say “Thank you. I chose this outfit/hair cut/pair of gold polka dot brogues on purpose and I stand by that decision.” After this week, I am going to get better at this.

Because not only is it important for my own happiness, confidence, and basic good manners, it’s important for all of us. We need to be careful with our words. The more we hear people putting themselves down, the more we think that’s what we all have to do, that it’s the polite way to speak about our bodies.

The more we stand in front of the mirror next to a friend saying ‘OH MY GOD I LOOK LIKE AN ACTUAL BAG OF RUBBISH. I SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED OUTSIDE!’ the more they’re going to respond with ‘YOU LOOK LIKE RUBBISH? I LOOK LIKE A BANANA THAT’S BEEN TRAVELLING AROUND IN SOMEONE’S HANDBAG FOR A WEEK – JUST A MESS!’

Seriously, why is this a thing?

There is much to be done about what other people expect from women in terms of our appearance – about the way we’re represented, about what we’re all taught about how women and girls supposedly should look.

But starting with the way we talk about our own bodies and those of our friends and peers is most definitely a good place to start.

Because if we all stop saying the bad things, eventually we’ll stop hearing them.

And if we all stop hearing them, then perhaps we’ll stop believing them.

And if we all stop believing them, the better prepared we’ll be to take on anyone who dares suggest that we should be anything other than just the way we are.

Life lessons from Caitlin Moran: Give yourself permission

09/03/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

Caitlin Moran - Moranifesto, Southbank Centre I’ve mentioned before just how much I love funny, female writers, so of course I’m a big fan of Caitlin Moran. Seeing her speak at the Southbank Centre was a perfect way to celebrate International Women’s Day. I absolutely loved it.

I always get so much out of hearing from my heroes so I wanted to write down the top four lessons I took away from last night because – who knows – you might find them useful too:

1. You don’t have to know everything about a subject to be able to talk about it; and 2. It’s OK – you can be serious and funny at the same time

Well, thank goodness for that. Caitlin came to talk about her new book Moranifesto in which she talks about the state of the world. She says she didn’t used to think she was allowed to talk about politics – that it was a subject reserved for grown ups and that you had to be an expert to justify having a say. But then she realised that was simply not true.

I can relate to this feeling. A friend told me a few years ago that every time I’d start to say something at work, I would open with a few qualifying sentences – to make it clear that I wasn’t an expert on the subject or that I may be wrong or that somebody else could easily have already thought of what I was about to say. And it was totally true – I just wasn’t confident that I had the right to have a voice. I really try not to do that now. You have to believe that you are worth hearing.

Caitlin also discussed how it’s OK to talk about politics in both a serious and funny way. If you want to throw a joke in, do it. She spoke about how she had to give herself permission to do just that, and that we mustn’t let people tell us how to talk about it. We all have something to offer.

I was very pleased to hear this as no matter what I’m writing or chatting about, I cannot help but chuck a bit of humour in. I like to talk about serious things, to put out there how I feel about something or someone, but then I also like to make jokes too because it’s simply who I am. It’s nice to know from somebody so successful that doing that is OK, that our points are still valid. I am officially giving myself permission to make crap jokes forever now. Hurrah!

3. Look how you want to look

If you’re familiar with Caitlin Moran, you’ll know she’s a big fan of pulling what she calls her ‘muppet face’. But she told us last night that she gets a lot of stick for it. That people write in to say she should make a more sensible expression in pictures. Well, I disagree. And thankfully so does she. She says she makes those faces because it makes her happy, and because when a woman tries to look attractive in photographs, she is immediately compared to every other woman doing the same thing, and she doesn’t want to take part in that ridiculous competition.

I am totally with her on this. I have spent an embarrassing amount of my time worrying about how I look compared to other people. And by the time you get to 30, you actually have a pretty good idea. I know what to do with my face to look how I want to look in a photograph and that if I’m caught doing anything else, I will look either miserable, mad or a perfect combination of the two. I too have made a decision about my photo faces and whether you like it or not, they’re the ones I’m going with.

And FYI, for those in pursuit of a good time, I’d recommend a muppet face over a pout any day of the week.

4. We need more honest depictions of what it’s actually like to be a woman

Caitlin spoke about watching TV and reading magazines when she was younger and just not seeing herself represented. Not seeing words and stories about women which she could look at and say – yes, that’s me. And I know exactly what she means. It is a rare treat to come across a book or an article that really feels like an honest reflection of what it’s like to be a woman. It’s why work by Lena Dunham, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Bridget Christie, Caitlin Moran and co. are all so important – because they have all found ways to speak about what it really feels like to be women and to reassure us that it’s totally normal to find it hard.

I try to do this with the things I write too. I love writing about the trivialities of being a woman, the immense humour in it, the precious relationships we have with one another, and the difference between what we think we’re supposed to be versus what we actually are. I am more inspired than ever to keep doing just that.

There was so much more to last night but in the interests of word count, I will stop now. I am so very excited to read Moranifesto and all the hundreds of other lessons I’m sure are waiting for me in there.

Thanks Caitlin Moran, Women of the World Festival and the Southbank Centre for a great evening. If only it could be International Women’s Day every day…

Letters from my mother

06/03/2016 by Charlotte 5 Comments

The letter attached to a new pair of earrings, sent to my house after a hard week – ‘I thought you might like these. Keep your chin up, my girl.’

The text message sent mid-Coronation Street to say ‘Nice jumper, Gail – NOT!’, to which I respond with whole-hearted agreement.

The note slipped between the ice block she attached to my sandwich when I was at school – because heaven forbid it should drop below fridge temperature – to wish me GOOD LUCK on exam days.

The ‘Happy New Home’ card that was waiting for us behind the door of our otherwise empty first house, sent the minute I let her know the address.

The abbreviations she makes up to save space in her text messages: TC = take care, AML = all my love. If she’s going to pay as she goes, she’s going to get her money’s worth.

The note sent with the jiffy bag full of M&S knickers she found for me in the sale that says ‘Bargains or what!’ and ‘The size 12 pair might be too big but for 19p, who cares?’ – all of which made my day.

The ‘Bon Voyage’ card she sent before we went to Australia, and the messages I received at just the right time every day we were there to say good morning, good night, and please, please be careful.

The entire emails she writes in the space reserved for the subject heading – because if you’ve got something to say, why not just get on with it?

The joke ‘list’ of names she’s claimed to have kept all my life of all the people who have ever dared upset me.

The texts I get whenever I mention I’ve bought myself something new to wear – ‘Did you not get your mother one?!’ she says, regardless of what it is.

The iPad messages to tell me when things I might be interested in are on TV: ‘Wimbledon on Location Location Location!’ ‘Great Barrier Reef on BBC1!’ ‘Remember Coronation Street’s on at 7 tonight because of stupid football!’

The words engraved on the silver bracelet she gave me on my wedding day: ‘Love always, mum’, which I will love always, mum.

The letters from my mother that mean more than she will ever know.

Life lessons from Bridget Christie: Write about the things you care about

10/02/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

20160207_121956-1-1 I’m a huge fan of Bridget Christie. I wrote in my 2015 round-up that her book A Book For Her was the best thing I read last year, and I think it’s actually one of the best things I’ve ever read. It’s very funny and it taught me a lot about feminism. I devoured it like one might a bag of crisps after a long walk. I just couldn’t get enough.

As I said in one of my last posts (about what Tina Fey’s book Bossypants taught me about how she and Amy Poehler avoid worrying about what other people think), it means so much to have role models who talk about how they have found a way to get to where they want to be. I’ve reached a stage in my life where I can’t get enough of hearing how other people do it. Strange, isn’t it, how when we no longer have to learn, we suddenly want to do as much learning as possible.

Bridget Christie has been on the comedy circuit for years. She used to, as she puts it, dress up ‘as dead kings and insects and plagues and fire and things like that’. Then, just when she was thinking about giving up on the whole comedy thing, she decided, for her final hurrah, to write a show about a topic she’s genuinely interested in: feminism. And, much to her surprise, it changed everything. She won the 2013 Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award for her show A Bic For Her and the rest, as they say, is history.

I went to see her most recent stand-up show – also called A Book For Her – at the weekend and it reminded me of what following her success has taught me.

This is a woman who has done really well because she’s extremely talented and hilarious, but also because she had the guts to write and to talk about what matters to her (and what should matter to everyone).

20160206_115021 We’re all better at our work when we focus on something that interests us. It’s obvious – the more we care about something, the more of ourselves we’re going to put into it. And the more of our heart we put in, the better we’ll be at encouraging other people to be interested in it too.

As I talked about not so long ago, I’m starting out as a freelance writer. I am trying to make my way in a sector which is already seriously oversubscribed and I find it extremely overwhelming. Wednesdays are my assigned writing days (although I obviously do it more frequently than that and think about it ALL the time) and I have regular dips where I wonder what on earth I think I’m doing, who I think I am, and why I’m even bothering because CLEARLY THERE ISN’T ROOM FOR ME.

Now, this voice is not to be listened to – it’s just the sound of imposter syndrome which most of us experience every day one way or another. So to try and avoid it, when I’m struggling to know where to put myself, I go back to my list of things that I am most interested in. The things that I like writing about, that I know about, and where I really have something to offer. And from there, well, the ideas gradually start to come. It’s very much a work in progress, but it’s a starting point, and we all need one of those.

Of course, it’s not possible to just work on things you’re most interested in all the time – girl gotta get paid, yo. You also need to keep an open mind because you never know which new things you come across might make it onto your list. I’ve found myself writing about topics which I might not have previously thought would be my bag that have then turned out to be something I’ve loved looking into.

But when things are quiet on the work front, or when you have some spare time, it’s good to do a bit of writing just for the love of it about whatever it is that you want to talk about. Because that way is sure to lie some of your best work and you just never know where it might take you.

Who knows it could be an award winning stand-up show or an amazing book. Or it could just be a blog post that your mum is kind enough to read. Either way, you’re bound to have some of your happiest hours just getting it onto the page.

I’m always looking for my next source of inspiration to join Bridget, Amy and Tina (sure, we’re on first-name terms) on my list of go-to people for a spot of reassurance that even the very best of writers have their struggles. So if there’s anybody whose words and tales you find particularly helpful, please leave me a comment/send me a tweet/carrier pigeon and let me know.

The unexpected bookmark

07/02/2016 by Charlotte 1 Comment

Valentine's Day - The Unexpected Bookmark Whenever my mum comes to visit, we go to my local second hand bookshop so that she can rummage around in the hope of finding a Ruth Rendell or Barbara Vine novel that she hasn’t read.

It’s a trip I’m always very happy to make. I mean, it’s not like you could ever have too many books, is it?

During one such visit last year, I found a copy of The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini – a book I’d always meant to read but just hadn’t got round to yet. The man in the shop said it was a must-read so I bought it and took it home (and later discovered that he was absolutely right). Unfortunately mum went away empty handed – it can be hard to admit that you have indeed read everything that your favourite writer has written – but she had a very animated discussion with the owner about her love of psychological thrillers, so it wasn’t a wasted journey.

I hadn’t opened my book whilst in the shop – having purchased items from there before I didn’t feel the need to check that the pages were intact or that the cover wasn’t hiding a Mills & Boon romp – but when I did I found this card that must have belonged to the previous owner, slotted between the pages like a bookmark.

The Kite Runner - The Unexpected Bookmark It was so lovely that I just couldn’t throw it away.

It reminded me that my mum used to send us Valentine’s cards when we were very small.

That my dad kept a box I made him out of cardboard with a note attached to it where I’d written ‘A box to put things in’ by his bed for years. (Even then it was clear that I was destined to be a writer).

That when it was our birthdays at school, my mum used to put a little note in our lunch boxes to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY despite having said it many times that morning.

That my grandpa sent me a letter when I was at university to inform me that the Amazon purchase I’d made on his behalf had arrived safely, detailing every step of the delivery like a short story, which I will keep forever.

Handwritten words carry a weight that no text message, email or WhatsApp could ever match. We’re all so busy these days so to know that somebody has taken the time to sit down, whip out a pen, and write a message just for you makes it all the more precious.

I wrote last year about how you shouldn’t wait until Valentine’s Day to say nice things to each other, and I stand by it. But if you want to use it as an opportunity to reiterate how special somebody is to you, well, why not. You don’t have to attach a balloon or a human sized box of chocolates to it, just some kind words to show you care. Or if you want to do it the next day or the next week, or whenever the mood takes you, go for it. You don’t need a card shop to tell you when to express your feelings. They are not the boss of you.

I have kept this card on my desk ever since I found it. The owner may well not have intended to lose it when they donated the book and if by some incredible chance they were to see this blog, I’d happily send it back to them.

Until then, it’ll stay safely in my box file, tucked between my magazines, notebooks and postcards, quietly reminding me that if you enjoy a book, you should pass it on, and of the sweetest bookmark I’ve ever seen.