For a couple of years, I’ve had a huge crush I have not mentioned to anyone. My reason for secrecy was threefold: he’s an older man, a married man, and his dress-sense is slightly dated. But push those things aside (quickly!) and he embodies all I admire.
He’s intelligent, creative, and driven. He has soul. He draws and makes things out of wood. He writes wonderful short fiction and wonderful epics. His name is Philip Pullman.
And whenever I read one of his interviews, I feel enriched. Sigh...
(The Firework-Maker's Daughter, and Clockwork, or All Wound Up are two of my all-time favourite novels.)
Driving home on Tuesday, I jumped out of the car to snap the cutest newborn lambs… I’ve seen in all my life!!!