Revisiting what I think I know
because surprise! i'd misunderstood
Hi! If you’re new to these parts, the short version is this: I’ve worked for myself almost forever, mostly writing novels, largely done from the sofa. It’s sent me a bit doolally, being alone that much and also working within an industry that hasn’t always treated me kindly. That’s why I started writing How to Build a Life, now delivered to thousands of readers in over 80 countries (!). I’ve been desperate to unpick why I seemingly had a dream career but life in general felt so underwhelming. So, at the start of this year - in addition to still writing my books - I took a job in a high school as a substitute teacher. In one million ways this makes no sense at all, apart from the fact that working out of the house is making me really very happy. I’m almost 40, a solo parent by choice, and knowing all this means you’re all caught up. WELCOME.
(pssst! I just revealed all the details about my summer 2025 book. Please do consider pre-ordering: it’s the single best way to help authors you love!)
I try to follow the signs and heed the omens. You know, as a life choice. It’s advice my dad gave me when I was about 14, written on the title page of Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist and given to me at Christmas. It’s a book he used to give away at dinner parties, back when people did that in their thirties and forties, back when Nigella was new on the block and made you want to try your hand at a soufflé for the people who lived on your street. I grew up with my parents hosting. Grew up with mum’s coke tasting funny as she she applied her lipstick (that’d be the vodka) and watching Saturday night Gladiators with my brother as dad tied something up with string in the kitchen.
Legend has it Dad’d be on the brandy after Delia Smith’s banana cheesecake with toffee sauce - still an absolute banger of a crowd pleaser - and inevitably stumble to his study before pressing The Alchemist into somebody’s hands, squinting and mumbling about it being bloody good. You’ll like it. Take it. He jokes he’s been through twenty copies of it. More. It felt like a rite of passage when he gave it me - sober, I might add, because to repeat, it was Christmas morning - and it turns out the apple doesn’t fall from the tree because I’ve given this book to countless other people too: people I’ve travelled with, my editorial team, my friends for their wedding.