As some of you may know, I’m starting an MA Journalism course at Kingston University next week, in the hope that it will lead to the real journalism job that I’ve been lusting after for as long as I can remember. In celebration of this, I’ve started a new blog, in which I’ll talk about journalism in general, and my MA journey in particular. I’ll be continuing to post reviews and creative writing here, but I’d be eternally grateful if you’d hop over to Destination Fleet Street and take a look at my new project!
After posting nearly every day for almost two months, I’m aware that this blog has looked a little empty of late. My explanation for this is simple: I had a dissertation to write. But as of 10pm yesterday evening that is complete, all 8,000 words of it, and now a more regular posting schedule can begin.
Despite the stress, I have been watching some fantastic television recently (Upstairs Downstairs, anyone?) and I even escaped to the theatre yesterday evening to catch DULOG (that’s Durham University Light Opera Group for those not in the know) performing RENT. So over the next few weeks you can expect a review of that, as well as a few more reviews, and maybe even some creative writing. Don’t you all feel lucky?
Prompt: Surgical tools, a car, the countryside. This was also inspired, in no small part, by my addiction to Grey’s Anatomy.
Most people would be afraid if they found a complete set of surgical tools in the back of their boyfriend’s car. Actually, afraid is something of an understatement. Most people would either call the police, run for the hills, or do both simultaneously.
But, there being no hills in the vicinity (it was Norfolk, after all), she simply smiled, retrieved her lip gloss – the loss of which had caused her to find the tools in the first place – recovered the tools with the cloth, and went inside to make dinner.
The next day, when he suggested they go for a drive, she didn’t panic. Didn’t imagine her body lying in a shallow grave, the looks on her parents’ faces when her picture appeared on the evening news. She smiled, she accepted, and she sat in the front seat, determinedly not thinking about what she had uncovered the day before.
Eventually they stopped. It was a field, that was all she knew, and this part of Norfolk was mainly fields so that didn’t exactly help her with getting her bearings. She wasn’t worried though. She smiled, sat on the blanket which he spread out on the slightly damp grass, and made small talk about the shapes of the fluffy clouds floating above them.
Eventually he stopped talking and gave her an unfathomable look.
“I’m just going back to the car.” He said. “I won’t be long.”
She just smiled.
True to his word, he reappeared after a few minutes, hands behind his back. He looked at her, spread out on the blanket, still smiling, and his face fell.
“What?” She asked. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, it was simply amused.
“You know.” He said dejectedly. “Don’t you?”
She kept smiling, bit down on her bottom lip, and nodded almost imperceptibly. He groaned.
“It was supposed to be a surprise!”
He held out his hands. In one was the bundle of surgical tools, in the other a bunch of bananas.
“I knew how worried you were about our first day, and I wanted to make you feel better. One of the second years suggested this….and why are you still smiling?”
She laughed at the irritation in his voice, and pulled him down beside her. And she kept smiling afternoon, as they performed life-saving surgery on the bananas and quizzed each other on medical terminology. She had known better than to be afraid of surgical equipment. She was a trainee doctor after all.
Guess what? It’s another theatre review! Durham Drama Festival, a week of student-written productions, is currently taking place, and last night I had the pleasure of seeing Satin. The dark tale of a group of Victorian prostitutes, this performance took place in Old Shire Hall, and was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. As always, I will link you to my review on the Durham Theatre Review site, rather than posting a full review here, but I do hope that you go and take a look, and read reviews of some of the other DDF performances while you’re at it. And so, without further ado:
I’m proud of myself for this one, as I managed to write what I consider to be a well-balanced review, and to give three stars without being guilty. The do say practice makes perfect!
(For those of you looking for my final #DearValentine entry, I will post it tomorrow. Too much journalism/blogging, not enough academic work!)