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katherine-gregor's picture
Aug.07.2013
Last week, Rupert Davies-Cooke, of the Original Writers Group, interviewed me about writing. Here is a link to my piece.  You may also like to listen to my wonderful, talented fell0w-group members here. Scribe Doll
katherine-gregor's picture
Aug.04.2013
  Three women in a South-West London kitchen, on a scorching summer afternoon.  The only cool room in the house.  Only the red setting sun peers through these windows. Three women in a South-West London kitchen.  One, in the early Spring of her life; the other two in the late...
katherine-gregor's picture
Jul.28.2013
Focussing my thoughts is proving impossible, this weekend.  Like trying to corral cats.  They dart across the room, bounce off the walls, whizz past me before I can catch them, hover before my eyes, teasing, then spiral upwards at vertiginous speed.  They nose-dive buzzing into my...
katherine-gregor's picture
Jul.21.2013
Saturday morning.  My friend L. and I are on the ‘phone, arranging one of our brunches in Notting Hill.  Her soft Irish tone turns businesslike.  “Now do you want to come up for your lesson before or after brunch?” I search my memory for a reference frame.  “Lesson?” “Yes....
katherine-gregor's picture
Jul.07.2013
Someday, I would like to live near a weeping willow.   “You’re mad! It’ll wreck your water pipes!” My beloved friend S., with her bucketful of sobering practicality.  “Their roots are so long, they’ll reach out from the bottom of your garden all the way to the foundations of your house...
katherine-gregor's picture
Jun.30.2013
Something woke me up earlier than usual, this morning.  It was the light pushing through my curtains.  It had a different colour and texture than of late.  I switched on Radio 4, negotiated myself out of bed, and approached the window, gingerly at first, then gave the curtain a firm...
katherine-gregor's picture
Jun.09.2013
  Six weeks after moving to this South-Western corner of London (well, it’s practically Surrey), I still had not explored its better-heeled district: the Village.  It was a warm day, so I decided to take my painful, recently acquired – and oddly appropriately named – tennis elbow, to...
katherine-gregor's picture
Jun.02.2013
It was the only time my mother actively encouraged me to skip school or, rather, ballet school, for reasons other than health.  “If you want to be a dancer, you must see this film.  It’s as important for your education as your classes.” As a child, more than anything in the world, I...
katherine-gregor's picture
May.26.2013
I’d asked my friend B. if he liked corn chowder.  Living in one room, and sharing a kitchen, I had to think of a lunch that would fit on my small work table.  “How about a bowl of steamy corn chowder, with bread and cheese?” I’d texted.  Then added, “Unless there is a heatwave.” A...
katherine-gregor's picture
May.19.2013
In a recent post on The Red Room, Orna B. Raz makes a very interesting case for the fiction writer’s ability to rewrite true life events, giving the stories a happier outcome on paper, than they might have had in reality.  She set me thinking about the power of fiction writing...