Wellbeing notes: Coconut flapjack recipe
01/09/2023 at 9:28 am | Posted in Wellbeing notes | Leave a commentTags: oats, recipe, simple pleasures, sweet treats, wellbeing
Back in the 1970s, I was given a new, blank recipe book. The first treats I added were simple, buttery flapjacks, which tasted lovely, but were… gooey. Over the next two decades, in a string of London kitchens, I tweaked the original ingredients. The notebook filled up, but the flapjacks remained a favourite. They were so easy to make, and almost everyone liked them.
In the 2000s, cooking times were adjusted for an old Aga that I acquired, in Wiltshire. But then, unaccountably, the recipe book was put on a shelf and forgotten. Not any more, though. “Oh, my goodness, these are amazing,” said one friend. Another mentioned that oats and coconuts have lots of health benefits (some of the other ingredients, less so, but I reckon home-baked snacks are broadly better than packaged sweets). A few asked for the recipe. So here it is.
Ingredients
170 g butter
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp golden syrup
170 g demerara sugar
280 g oats
30 g desiccated coconut
Handful of sultanas
Optional: 30 g chocolate chips
Method
Set oven at 150ºC (fan-assisted)/170ºC (conventional) or use baking oven of Aga.
Butter and line a square 7”/18cm baking tray.
Slice the butter and melt gently in a pan. Add honey and syrup, then sugar. Stir from time to time until dissolved.
Add oats and coconut to a large bowl. Pour melted mixture over and mix well. Stir in sultanas, and chocolate chips if using.
Transfer mixture to baking tray and press down with the back of a spoon.
Bake for 16 to 20 minutes, or until browning slightly at edges.
(If using Aga, place on oven shelf on floor of baking oven, or use roasting oven with cold shelf above.)
Remove from oven and leave to cool thoroughly before cutting into squares.
Fiction notes: Every bookish person needs a tote
15/08/2023 at 9:10 am | Posted in Fiction notes, Uncategorized | Leave a commentTags: Amor Towles, bookish, fiction reading, Maggie O'Farrell, one book at a time, reading community, TBR pile, wellbeing
Some days are manic. There are so many demands on my time, it’s hard to focus on just one thing. So I write lists and action plans and those help. But what also helps is a book tote. A book tote, in the right circumstances, can be a pocket of calm within a hectic life. Open the tote and, aah, the pleasure of reading emerges.
This is currently my favourite tote, found recently at Waterstones in Bath. That day, I bought one book, and popped it inside to carry it home. And I’ve repeated the exercise several times since then.
The key point is this: in a busy life, recreational reading can seem like a waste of time. But it never is. Reading fiction in particular brings new ideas, fresh insights and a dose of escapism. If you’re bookishly inclined, reading is a necessary luxury that recharges you for the manic times. A tote of stories brings respite from the daily grind.
My tote is designed purely to carry books – just one or two or maybe three at a time. That moment of putting a new volume in the bag brings a breath of calm, a sigh of relief, and the prospect of a mini-holiday from other commitments.
It’s important not to to over-stuff my book tote. Yes, I have a giant TBR pile at home but that, while a wonderful thing, can bring pressures of its own: I should have read this, I should have read that. In contrast, the book tote only contains what I might read in a week or so. And therefore, I often do.
Currently my tote contains A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles and The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O’Farrell. Both, curiously, feature sequestered lives, something I’m both drawn to and repelled by. The incarcerated characters in each novel cannot choose freedom. But moments of optional solitude – just me with a book, enjoying a mini-break from my crazy schedule – now they can be wonderful.
Do you have a book tote for selected, pared down reading? Or do you have another method of creating pockets of fiction reading in an often busy life?
Wellbeing notes: The meaning of dragonflies
01/08/2023 at 9:31 am | Posted in Uncategorized, Wellbeing notes | 4 CommentsTags: dragonflies, garden musings, mindfulness, nature inspiration, nature meditation, Nature's oracle, world in my garden
One of the nicest things about my garden in the summer is the presence of dragonflies. These iridescent, winged creatures waft and whirr around in fast motion, and they always leave me feeling uplifted.
I read recently that dragonfly numbers are increasing in the UK, refugees from hotter landmasses where freshwater habitats are unfortunately drying out.
Despite (or because of) their delicate build, these fairy-like creatures are proven survivors. Dragonflies have been around for an extraordinary 300 million years; their gigantic ancestors were among the first of the flying insects. Today, they’re found in every culture of the world and have an unrivalled place in folklore.
When you see, or dream of, a dragonfly, it is often said to be a sign of change and self-transformation. The dragonfly’s own journey embodies that truth: it may begin life as a dull, water-bound creature – but it becomes a miniature master of the air.
This remarkable transformation is a reminder that change is our own natural state. We are always moving into an airy and unknown future – an ultimately comforting truth during difficult times. The dragonfly’s message is optimistic: when the time is right, you will soar.
Fiction notes: The untutored retreat
15/07/2023 at 9:32 am | Posted in Fiction notes, Uncategorized | 2 CommentsTags: creative inspiration, fiction, nature, peace and quiet, tranquility, writers 'retreats
When I stepped into the old, stone building, I knew that all I had to do for the next six days was write. Yes, there would be country walks, and shared meals with some interesting authors. There would almost certainly be conversations with friendly strangers in the neighbouring village. But apart from those interactions, all I had to do was write, edit and write some more.
That permission to do what you love to do, without interruptions, is, for me, the biggest appeal of an untutored writers’ retreat.
There is a purity about the quiet that allows you to go deeper. From my desk, through the window, I could gaze into the apparent infinity of woodland. There was something about the way breezes created endless pathways through shimmering leaves that somehow helped my mind to take less obvious creative routes through my work in progress. House martins swooping every which way in the near distance seemed amplify the effect.
And when I walked around the beautiful estate, once owned by the playwright John Osborne, there were constant invitations to daydream, that essential precursor to creative writing. I explored grassy paths through fragrant gardens, discovered the occasional, intriguing statue, and met venerable redwood trees, the elders of the place.
But it wasn’t all seclusion. The other writers were fun, inspiring, and supportive – ideal companions for a relaxed yet productive week.
My recent retreat took place at the Clockhouse, at the Hurst, in Shropshire, owned and run by Arvon. It wasn’t my first visit, and it won’t be my last. For much of the year I’m happy writing in my own home, but every now and then, especially towards the end of a novel’s first draft, or at the beginning of a new one, a retreat centre becomes the perfect place to be.
How about you: what, and where, is your ideal retreat?
Wellbeing notes: iced tea recipe
01/07/2023 at 1:13 pm | Posted in Uncategorized, Wellbeing notes | 1 CommentTags: honey, iced tea, lemons, mint, oranges, recipe, summertime, tea bag recipes
Melody, the main character in the story I’m writing, was feeling hot and sticky. So, she made iced tea for a friend and herself. As Melody steeped tea bags, sliced lemons, and plucked mint leaves from the garden, I became more and more tempted to make some for myself.
Iced tea always makes me think of rocking chairs on cool verandas in the sunny southern states of America. But it happens to suit England in the summer extremely well. Delicious, cooling and refreshing, the caffeine content brings a reviving kick; and citrus fruit’s health benefits are always welcome. Iced tea is easy and inexpensive to make. Chances are, the few ingredients are already in the kitchen.
This is the recipe that I tend to use. It’s adapted from BBC Good Food’s Easy Iced Tea recipe.
Ingredients
1.5 litres cold water
2 tbsp golden granulated sugar
1.5 tbsp liquid honey
6 tea bags
2 lemons, one sliced, one juiced
2 oranges, one sliced, one juiced
1 or 2 sprigs fresh mint
Method
Pour the cold water into a large jug. Add sugar and honey; stir to dissolve.
Add teabags. Steep for ten minutes.
Remove tea bags and discard. Chill in fridge until ready to drink.
Add lemon slices and juice, orange slices and juice, and mint leaves torn roughly in half. Serve in tall glasses with ice.
Fiction notes: Can writing by hand improve a novel?
15/06/2023 at 4:06 pm | Posted in Fiction notes | 3 CommentsTags: creativity, fiction, fountain pens, writing fiction, writing inspiration
The scratch of pen against paper, and the flow of midnight ink. A rustle of turning pages, and the feel of a notebook against skin… When we write by hand, our senses get involved. It’s a tactile experience, involving texture and sound and even the evocative scent of the writing materials.
Contemporary authors have been known to write by hand. JK Rowling, for example, scrawled Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone in notebooks in an Edinburgh café; Stephen King wrote Dreamcatcher by hand as a sort of pain-reducing therapy while recovering from a serious car accident; and Neil Gaiman hand-wrote Stardust, to help him to feel closer to that novel’s Victorian setting. All three novelists have continued to put literal pen to paper in later works, and they all use fountain pens to do so.
Why would any author opt for the relative messiness of an ink pot? Using a keyboard is generally much faster; you can move words around every which way in a document, and of course you don’t end up with ink-stained fingers. But tapping onto a keyboard does not please the senses in quite the same way. It seems that the extra effort involved in handwriting helps our brains to work differently, and that can be useful.
I have yet to write a full-length book by hand. Maybe, one day, I will. However, for every work in progress, I do keep a daily notebook. The jottings in it – about plot, and character, and dialogue that comes to me willy-nilly at any time of day and night – are hugely useful. They’re helpful for the creative process, and they bring contentment. When the nib touches paper, and the ink flows, I’m convinced that ideas flow too, in sensory and meditative ways.
How about you? Do you ever write by hand? And have you penned, or would you pen, an entire book by hand, inky fingers and all?
Wellbeing notes: The therapy of small things
01/06/2023 at 9:57 am | Posted in Wellbeing notes | 2 CommentsTags: Guidance, healing, inspiration, life skills, mindfulness, nature, wellbeing
I’d come home from a really stressful term of studies. I was questioning everything I’d ever learnt, anxious about the truth and direction of my life.
Home at that time was an Italian villa by a lake where water buffalo roamed, and mafiosi ruled. Home seemed so different from the English university I’d just left. And the contrast just made things worse.
But then something small happened. I was walking in the garden, between green lemon trees and a wall where purple bougainvillea grew. Beneath the wall, my mother and brother were positioning a section of flattened tree trunk. “It’s a bench,” my mum explained.
Curiously, when she said that, something within me settled. All those big questions, crowding my mind… they were abstract problems. You couldn’t touch them, like you could touch the lemon trees or the bougainvillea. And a bench in the garden where people could sit, and maybe heal from whatever was troubling them… you could touch that.
Right then, I began to appreciate the therapy of small things.
Fast forward to present times, to Wiltshire, in England. Last week, a young family friend came to stay, anxious and needing a break from uni. There was no handy tree trunk to turn into a bench. But I was looking after my neighbours’ hens. So, I invited her to help me feed them.
As the hens tucked into lettuce, she visibly relaxed. “I needed this,” she said.
And I hoped then that the therapy of small things had found another fan.
Fiction notes: Epistolary stories make it real
15/05/2023 at 9:28 am | Posted in Fiction notes | 2 CommentsTags: epistolary novels, fiction, novel writing, women's fiction, writing, writing community
Recently I’ve been reading two excellent books presented as a collection of letters and other correspondence. One, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Anne Barrows, was fiction. The other, 84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff, was fact. And yet both come across in a remarkably similar way, which I would describe as warm-hearted and real. Both feature World War Two in their recent past. Against the darkness of conflict, the humour and kindness of the main characters shine out.
The two books aren’t really that similar. But they both left me feeling moved and uplifted – and curious about the epistolary form.
When you start looking, the epistolary form – also known as a story made from a bunch of correspondence – is everywhere, all through the history of novel (and indeed non-fiction) writing. It’s a great way for an author to present multiple points of view. But until now, I didn’t realise that I was a fan, even though I’d read The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis, and felt it had a freshness, an immediacy, that in certain ways surpassed his wonderful Narnia tales.
Why are epistolary novels so readable? The Smithsonian National Postal Museum has some interesting thoughts on the subject, as well as a giant list (even 84 Charing Cross Road manages to tiptoe onto it). The gist is that letters are often written for a small and intimate audience. That means that they’re personal, private and revealing. The reader of fictional letters is able to peer into that intimate world.
Reading epistolary books has made me notice the use of correspondence in the stories I’m writing. In my current work in progress, for example, a sealed letter was discovered that seems likely to reveal secrets. I have a rough idea of those are, but won’t know for sure until I get to that chapter…
And now, over to you. Do you have a favourite letter that you’ve read, or written, in a novel?
Wellbeing notes: The Patina of a Person
01/05/2023 at 12:11 pm | Posted in Wellbeing notes | Leave a commentTags: ageless, antiques, self-acceptance, slow beauty, time passing, true beauty, wabi sabi, wellbeing
There’s an upcoming auction near me on 11th May: The Fine Contents of a Wiltshire Property. I may attend, because there’s a similar scene I’m working on in the novel that I’m currently writing. It’ll be useful research.
There’s something about antique objects that is innately pleasing, despite or maybe because of the way they’ve changed over time. Consider my great grandmother’s sewing box, pictured here. Maybe one day the parquetry lid will be restored, but even so, it will never again look new. Its surfaces reveal the passage of time – and that is surely part of its charm. Wear and tear, interspersed with licks of polish… there are no short cuts when it comes to creating an aged surface, or patina.
And so it is with people. We all age differently, and we all face different choices when it comes to the process of time. Do we apply skincare creams, including sun block, daily; do we opt for more drastic intervention? How do we react to the arrival of white hair? And do we keep our bodies flexible through exercise?
We each find our own answers to these questions. However, the icon of older beauty for me will always be the white-haired woman (or man), with serene and cared-for features, who accepts and embraces her true age. She has learned the art of self-acceptance, and to love life fully. That is truly something to aspire to.
Fiction notes: The power of juxtaposition
15/04/2023 at 10:53 am | Posted in Fiction notes, Uncategorized | 2 CommentsTags: creative writing, short stories, writing fiction, writing inspiration, writing techniques
For decades, I wrote non-fiction. Then the poles shifted in my personal life, and now I almost always write fiction. But back in the beginning of my career, I did write a single short story. It was called ‘The Dormer Window’, even though the window in the story was a slanting, attic sort that could be more properly termed a skylight.
When it was published, in Britain and Ireland, no one seemed to mind the architectural inaccuracy. What they liked was the way it juxtaposed the hard drudge of a couple’s ordinary life with a window that revealed their passions and dreams, in unexpected ways. In the story, the husband created an attic bedroom, complete with slanted window above the bed. At night, their reflection revealed them as Chagall’s lovers, entwined and floating in the air. As one editor memorably put it, “It’s about love and DIY”.
I had a quick look for the story yesterday, but couldn’t find it. If I do, I’ll share it on these pages.
But what I really want to talk about is the use of juxtaposition in fiction writing. It’s such a useful device, to put two contrasting things closely together. And it seems to work particularly well for people. To be human is to have duties that we must do, to survive and hopefully thrive. But to be human is also to have powerful emotions. In day to day life we often try to hide these. However, it’s vital for our sanity that there is an outlet for our yearnings, hopes and dreams – a dormer window, if you will.
I invite you to consider what you are currently writing, or perhaps reading. Is juxtaposition present? And, if so, how does it enhance the story?
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Suzanne Askham 