So many of my classmates of the 2013 graduating class still harbour the ambition to become authors, journalists and publishers. I also still have that ambition but with our arts degrees and the pressure of living back at our parents' or suddenly burning through that last scrap of student loan sometimes the only option is to bite the bullet and get a job that doesn't immediately shout "dream opportunity".
I think it is important that graduates remember that their career is a long road, they could be in full time work for the next 50 years so it is not the end of the world if the first couple of jobs are not ideal. Everything takes time and in the grand scheme of things you only need to be at each stepping stone job for a year or two before it is acceptable to move on.
The other thing to remember is that transferable skills are everywhere. There are so many stories about my classmates not having enough office experience leading to them missing out on that application. My advice would be to aim for as close to the dream job as possible or for as similar a role as possible which will make the next step an easy transition and make the most of every position.
On the other hand maybe I am defending that route because it is the one I have been forced to take. I hope that this new job will be a stepping stone to my next. I certainly consider it to be more appropriate than my last. My new role is at a publisher of sorts and getting used to a company with a similar culture is helpful.
Always remember make the best of your situation, particularly if it is not exactly where you want to be and that should be enough of an armour against the accusation of selling out or selling your soul to the wrong industry. We've all got to climb the ladder from somewhere, why not let it be from a steady job that pays on time.
Showing posts with label About Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label About Me. Show all posts
Thursday, 20 August 2015
Thursday, 22 January 2015
2nd Year Undergraduates
My Visit to Bath Spa.
On Tuesday 20th of January I visited my alma mater to speak about my experience post graduation. I LOVED it. First of all I got to meet a few lecturers and staff who I never had before, plus meet up with my old tutors. I also got to meet some other graduates who had really interesting stories as well. It was lovely to meet them all.
There was a distinct feeling of students up at my campus. Usually, in the wild, I see them all spread out or in small groups roaming the cities. I saw a guy skateboarding to the SU. That guy was winning at being a student.
In my final year, much of the campus was under construction while a new giant building was built. We were lucky enough to get to speak in one of the new lecture theaters. Obviously there were about 35 people in the room, this is their writing week to do nothing while the uni puts on career focused workshops.
There were definitely some despairing faces out there. Who didn't know what they wanted to do. But I felt like I crowbarred in enough of what I really wanted to say. One of the questions the leader of the seminar asked was:
If you were sitting in this room right now, what do you wish someone had told you:
"How much time you have now. Once you leave uni, there is no money, and no time. So while you have time and money at uni, make the most of it. Freelance, blog, intern, work shadow, and read."
One of my fellow graduates said: "Ah see, I'm pretty sure someone DID tell me, and I just ignored them. I'd say just make sure everything you do is useful. If you're on a team, think about how that would reflect on your CV."
And
"It's going to be hard. and scary. And it takes months or years of persistence to get a job." Why not start now??
What I enjoyed was that we all had very different stories, and we all said the same things from a different view point. If I was invited back next year, I would try to frame my answers a little better there was so much that I wanted to say that sometimes I felt a little garbled.
It was great to go back and I'd do it again!
On Tuesday 20th of January I visited my alma mater to speak about my experience post graduation. I LOVED it. First of all I got to meet a few lecturers and staff who I never had before, plus meet up with my old tutors. I also got to meet some other graduates who had really interesting stories as well. It was lovely to meet them all.
There was a distinct feeling of students up at my campus. Usually, in the wild, I see them all spread out or in small groups roaming the cities. I saw a guy skateboarding to the SU. That guy was winning at being a student.
In my final year, much of the campus was under construction while a new giant building was built. We were lucky enough to get to speak in one of the new lecture theaters. Obviously there were about 35 people in the room, this is their writing week to do nothing while the uni puts on career focused workshops.
There were definitely some despairing faces out there. Who didn't know what they wanted to do. But I felt like I crowbarred in enough of what I really wanted to say. One of the questions the leader of the seminar asked was:
If you were sitting in this room right now, what do you wish someone had told you:
"How much time you have now. Once you leave uni, there is no money, and no time. So while you have time and money at uni, make the most of it. Freelance, blog, intern, work shadow, and read."
One of my fellow graduates said: "Ah see, I'm pretty sure someone DID tell me, and I just ignored them. I'd say just make sure everything you do is useful. If you're on a team, think about how that would reflect on your CV."
And
"It's going to be hard. and scary. And it takes months or years of persistence to get a job." Why not start now??
What I enjoyed was that we all had very different stories, and we all said the same things from a different view point. If I was invited back next year, I would try to frame my answers a little better there was so much that I wanted to say that sometimes I felt a little garbled.
It was great to go back and I'd do it again!
Thursday, 18 December 2014
A Christmas Memory
Last Christmas I
bought my duck from Waitrose, but a few years before that, I bought a goose.
We went to the butchers first, through the fish
section of the night market. The dirty
smell of raw meat wafted softly over us in refrigerated waves while we stood on
the front steps. We were careful not to fall into the trap door that led into
the basement. I asked if they had geese.
The butcher shouted out of the entrance.
An assistant appeared from the trapdoor with a white goose in his
arms. Mummy, knowing more about goose
shopping than I, pinched and prodded the bird.
I imagined the bird blushing under its feathers when she squeezed its
breasts and thighs. It had cold yellow
feet, which struggled for purchase against the butcher’s chest whilst he held
it for examination. He had it cradled
between his side and his elbow, keeping its wings gently pinned. With his other hand he stroked its tiny head
with rough and blunt fingers; I could see that he chewed his dirty nails. I put out my hand and stroked the goose’s
neck. We arranged to come back for the
bird in two hours and left with the feeling of goose down still tingling on my fingertips.
We
usually had Christmas Eve dinner at a restaurant in the old flower market,
which led off of the main road, but this year we thought that we would have
street meat. Even the dirty pieces of
soggy cardboard and muddy rubbish didn’t make us think any less of each rickety
food stand. While we waited for our
goose to be slaughtered we wandered the alleys and stopped at stalls for snacks. The basic wooden planks of the mussel stand
were rough and splintered with a wad of plastic bags tucked into the
brace. A portable gas stove stood behind
the old man, the bare ring flickered its blue flames under his pot of steaming
mussels. They were stacked like bullets
in the tray. Each one stuffed with a
rice and mussel meat mixture; we cracked apart the shells and heaped it into
our mouths using the lid of the shell as a spoon. The fish was so fresh; we didn’t need the
offered lemon. We walked away still
scooping up the tiny piles of soft rice. We reached eager fingers into the bag
pulling out each parcel and tasting the sea.
We
wandered further down the fish market, as we passed, a careless boot knocked
over a bucket of live shrimp and their frantic, pink little bodies went skating
over the cobbles. The fish mongers splashed
water over the lines of shining bodies to make them sparkle under the bare
bulbs strung between the buildings. Cats
meowed from behind the tables and sneaked as close as they dared to the smell
of salty meat. Nearby one table, a boy was
sat. He was gutting the white, blue and grey little fish, throwing their insides
into the street. The boy also scaled the
fish for the customers before they were sold. He was using the cap of a beer
bottle nailed onto a handle of wood, the curved rough edges perfect for
catching the rounded rim of each transparent scale. They flew up around his hands like sharp
flakes of snow and settled all over his body.
He looked up from his work as he laid the little creature on the ice and
smiled a watery smile at me.
We
drifted into the spice area. The blue
and grey of the fish market was transformed into a vivid colour pallet of ochres
and deep reds. The harsh bulbs of
butcher shops faded into the coloured glass of fairy lights that danced wildly
in the wind above our heads. The soft
interior of every shop held powdered pyramids of spice, strong enough to make
you sneeze. Here the men played dominos
and back-gammon into the night, the board resting on a low stool between them. While
a constant supply of tea flowed in and out on trays. A low buzz of conversation
and music hummed through our skin. The popping
sounds of frying crackled in our ears, making our mouths water.
At
my eye level a vat of oil bigger than I could have put my arms round was filled
with floating skewers of chicken. The
thick pieces were turning to bright yellow in the oil, bubbles frothing round them. This man wore a white hat and apron, dotted
gently with flecks of dull grey grease from his tub. He turned the skewers with a large, porous
spoon, so that his hands weren’t singed by fat that spat upwards from the
bouncing delicacies. While we waited in
the queue to shout our order, I looked around.
The cold night was misting with the breath of the public.
Here long spice tables stored and
displayed every kind of chilli and peppercorn.
I watched as a fat old woman covered from head to toe with floral
patterns pointed to a few different heaps.
The spice man took a miniature shovel from each pyramid, and poured each
measure into a twist of newspaper. The
little packets were placed in a bag and handed to the woman and she pawed
through them carefully before she handed over the note of money to him. We were finally at the front of the line, Mummy
shouted up for two portions. Our
polystyrene boxes of chicken were handed down to us with a paper napkin under
each and we opened them immediately to smell the soft yellow scent of crispy
chicken. My tongue prickled with spices.
We looked for somewhere to sit
down. We could see the passage that led
off to the ex-flower market, where restaurants now flourished. These old buildings with bare mouldings open
to the air and balconies with French blinds folded back against the
windows. The cobbles gave way to flag
stones and a façade of Parisian style darkened the whole road of restaurants. Each one had a waiter outside and as we
walked slowly past, our chicken warming our hands, they shouted politely. Letting on nothing we smiled and shook our
heads as they tried ‘welcome’ in Russian, German, French, Dutch, Spanish and
finally English. One handed me a red carnation and I hid it from mummy in my
pocket. Out of the corner of my eye I
spotted a door with a wide marble stoop.
We stopped and sat in the door way and opened our picnic box of
chicken.
We were between two restaurants
and watched the diners sitting outside while we ripped the strips of meat from
the wooden skewers. A large group of
people were sat around some tables; they were laughing and talking, shouting to
each other. All of a sudden they shifted
and their hands groped under the table and came up with instrument cases. They were mostly string, guitars and lutes
and a tambur. The spontaneous band of
friends struck up a song and those without instruments hammered along to the
beat and sang at the top of their voices.
These were no Christmas carols!
The waiters grinned when they brought round the food and spread it on
the table, but the singers wouldn’t stop.
They grabbed a morsel here and there between beats and drank their beer
in great gulps.
The girls at the table pushed back
their chairs and began to swing their hips.
Their black hair curled loosely down their backs and they snapped their
fingers to the rhythm. They shook their
shoulders and stamped out the time with their feet. They lifted bites of bread and meat from the
plates, and the juice dripped down their fingers; the music didn’t stop. Each man rose from the table slowly, arms
spread wide above their heads, heads bowed, snapping their fingers to a slow
beat. Only the drums kept going, as the
men filtered from the table into the road.
As they went they beckoned to other men who stood by to join them. The waiters from both restaurants joined the
line, old men and teenagers lined up, arms draped across each other’s shoulders
as they began their steps. Mummy and I
clapped along as the men kicked through the escalating beat. The line snaked all over the road,
pedestrians and shoppers stopped to clap and watch, and we had front row
seats. The rhythm sped until the men
couldn’t keep up and they faded back to their tables, flushed rosy by the
air.
The fast music had sped up time. We hurried through the market again back to
the butchers. Picking up the goose, Mummy and I marched back up the hill,
passing it all again. Our normal chatter
had stopped and we rushed to make the midnight church service. When we got to the church we quieted down,
our hearts still thumping. It was so dark.
We whispered in the cold church and rustled our hymn sheets. ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ came out of the
darkness and the flames of the candles lit up the choir’s faces, the mouth of
the soloist rounded to an O of perfect red in the light. The warm body of the goose lay in the dark at
my feet through the whole service.
Every Christmas I think of that night - my last
brightly coloured memory of Istanbul on Christmas Eve.
Thursday, 9 October 2014
An Open Letter to University Students
Dear Students,
Your second or third attempt at freshers week is over, I hope it was even more successful than the first time round. You've probably had a chance to meet all your lecturers and had a chance to decide which seminars you will be avoiding. *curse you 9am lectures!*
This is the year that really starts to matter. In most cases, from now on, all of your grades count towards your final result. This is also the time to do all the fun things you always wanted to do because next year all your free time will be spent in 24hr Libraries and cafes trying to squeeze 10000 words into a dissertation.
My best advice that I can give you at this early stage in the year is to get a job. Any job. Preferably one that pays you, probably as a barista or in a shop. Your second year is all about building your CV while you have time and resources on your side.
There isn't a ticket into the job market. A levels, degree, good grade, respectable university, they're all just the building blocks of your CV and you need more. Start demonstrating what you want to do. If you don't know what to do, do things you like so that your CV reflects who you are. Having that first job or two will give you that much leverage once you graduate.
You might have spent most of your student loan on a bass guitar (you know who you are), but you can still survive on ramen noodles until Christmas. If you can live without a paying job, get an internship or placement in the industry you prefer. Sometimes this is hard to do in your university town.
I know about publishing, because that is what I wanted to do, so I can only advise on that, but it applies to everyone really. I was amazed once I got to London that there were at least three places I could have worked while at uni and I had no idea, because I never looked. Start your research NOW. look for work in your university town and at home.
My greatest regret is that I didn't do more to prepare for the real world while at Uni. Bills, rent, learning to drink jager without dying, all good lessons. But what I really should have been doing is writing for my uni magazine, working in the SU, building a blog! Anything to prove to my employers that I want to be in their industry. In publishing the consistent item on a job description is that the candidate must 'demonstrate their passion for books'. So go demonstrate any way you can.
If there just isnt time between sports, drinking and essays, use the holidays to do internship placements instead of slobbing around in your pjs. Try freelancing if you prefer the flexibility.
I cannot stress how much easier your graduate life will be if you work while at uni.
Good luck with your cover letters!
InternInBooks
Your second or third attempt at freshers week is over, I hope it was even more successful than the first time round. You've probably had a chance to meet all your lecturers and had a chance to decide which seminars you will be avoiding. *curse you 9am lectures!*
This is the year that really starts to matter. In most cases, from now on, all of your grades count towards your final result. This is also the time to do all the fun things you always wanted to do because next year all your free time will be spent in 24hr Libraries and cafes trying to squeeze 10000 words into a dissertation.
My best advice that I can give you at this early stage in the year is to get a job. Any job. Preferably one that pays you, probably as a barista or in a shop. Your second year is all about building your CV while you have time and resources on your side.
There isn't a ticket into the job market. A levels, degree, good grade, respectable university, they're all just the building blocks of your CV and you need more. Start demonstrating what you want to do. If you don't know what to do, do things you like so that your CV reflects who you are. Having that first job or two will give you that much leverage once you graduate.
You might have spent most of your student loan on a bass guitar (you know who you are), but you can still survive on ramen noodles until Christmas. If you can live without a paying job, get an internship or placement in the industry you prefer. Sometimes this is hard to do in your university town.
I know about publishing, because that is what I wanted to do, so I can only advise on that, but it applies to everyone really. I was amazed once I got to London that there were at least three places I could have worked while at uni and I had no idea, because I never looked. Start your research NOW. look for work in your university town and at home.
My greatest regret is that I didn't do more to prepare for the real world while at Uni. Bills, rent, learning to drink jager without dying, all good lessons. But what I really should have been doing is writing for my uni magazine, working in the SU, building a blog! Anything to prove to my employers that I want to be in their industry. In publishing the consistent item on a job description is that the candidate must 'demonstrate their passion for books'. So go demonstrate any way you can.
If there just isnt time between sports, drinking and essays, use the holidays to do internship placements instead of slobbing around in your pjs. Try freelancing if you prefer the flexibility.
I cannot stress how much easier your graduate life will be if you work while at uni.
Good luck with your cover letters!
InternInBooks
Thursday, 4 September 2014
One Lovely Blog
http://somerville66.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/one-lovely-blog.html
I recently got tagged in a One Lovely Blog award by Somerville66 (Liz Lloyd.) you can click on her name to see her post on One Lovely Blogs! Thanks Liz! xxx
I recently got tagged in a One Lovely Blog award by Somerville66 (Liz Lloyd.) you can click on her name to see her post on One Lovely Blogs! Thanks Liz! xxx
Here are the rules for the One Lovely Blog Award:
Thank the person that nominated you and link back to that blog.
Share seven things about yourself – see below.
Nominate 15 bloggers you admire – also listed below.
Contact your bloggers to let them know you've tagged them for the ONE LOVELY BLOG AWARD If I've nominated your blog, please don't feel under any obligation to join in. I am just pleased to recommend your blog here.
Thank the person that nominated you and link back to that blog.
Share seven things about yourself – see below.
Nominate 15 bloggers you admire – also listed below.
Contact your bloggers to let them know you've tagged them for the ONE LOVELY BLOG AWARD If I've nominated your blog, please don't feel under any obligation to join in. I am just pleased to recommend your blog here.
Here are seven things about ME:
I grew up in Istanbul, Turkey. Until I was 11 when I came to the UK to take my exams. My mum still lives in Turkey with my step-dad while my dad, my sister and I all live here. I speak very bad, broken Turkish, and I forget it while I'm in England but I try to learn it when I'm home for holidays.
I am a publishing Intern in London and have been working in publishing gaining experience for 12 months!
I had a pretty eclectic schooling let's go backwards: I went to Hurstpierpoint college, a boarding school in sussex, for four years, one year at Oundle school in Peterborough, 2 years at Reigate St Mary's Prep school, a year at MIA - an American academy in Istanbul which one day was mysteriously closed by the police for having no permits and IICS an international school in Istanbul. CRAZY.
I love to dance. I can tango, but my favorite is modern jive, or Ceroc dancing, which is loads of fun. I like it because they play pop music with a beat and so it is always really good fun. I also love to go to the Rivoli ballroom, they have a Jive night there once a month with live music and dancing.
I love to cook, I follow recipes most of the time but I can judge things to my own taste as well. I really like to feed other people and see them say how lovely it is. I'm my worst critic and am always trying to get better. I'd have to thank my other half for being one reason why my cooking has improved over the last few years. He always needs feeding when he comes over, so I have become more experimental and more daring and had a lot more reason to practice. He is also on a paelo diet so I have to really get creative to make something delicious we both like.
One of my favourite and most cathartic things to do is to reorganise my bookshelves. I always feel a huge sense of accomplishment when they are newly ordered and have had the dust shaken off them. I don't have a lot of space so I also have trinkets and nicknaks filling the shelf too. Maybe I'll do that today...
I can't get enough of period dramas. Any thing from Lark Rise to Candleford to the Illusionist. I was raised on a TV diet of Pride and Prejudice and Tess of the Durbervilles. Now that I am older I love to read those stories too but when it comes to movies, I cannot resist a spot of old time fashion.
Here are my recommendations! Go look at them. Immediately.
Chic It Yourself
Up The Hill And Round The Bend
A Seasonal Cook in Turkey
Catherine Bennett
Dark Readers
Damn Interesting
Bookables
Books, Biscuits, and tea
little paper pages
The Hungry Reader
So Many books So Little Time
the thrifty garden/home
eat like a girl
Writers and Artists Blog
I love to dance. I can tango, but my favorite is modern jive, or Ceroc dancing, which is loads of fun. I like it because they play pop music with a beat and so it is always really good fun. I also love to go to the Rivoli ballroom, they have a Jive night there once a month with live music and dancing.
I love to cook, I follow recipes most of the time but I can judge things to my own taste as well. I really like to feed other people and see them say how lovely it is. I'm my worst critic and am always trying to get better. I'd have to thank my other half for being one reason why my cooking has improved over the last few years. He always needs feeding when he comes over, so I have become more experimental and more daring and had a lot more reason to practice. He is also on a paelo diet so I have to really get creative to make something delicious we both like.
One of my favourite and most cathartic things to do is to reorganise my bookshelves. I always feel a huge sense of accomplishment when they are newly ordered and have had the dust shaken off them. I don't have a lot of space so I also have trinkets and nicknaks filling the shelf too. Maybe I'll do that today...
I can't get enough of period dramas. Any thing from Lark Rise to Candleford to the Illusionist. I was raised on a TV diet of Pride and Prejudice and Tess of the Durbervilles. Now that I am older I love to read those stories too but when it comes to movies, I cannot resist a spot of old time fashion.
Here are my recommendations! Go look at them. Immediately.
Chic It Yourself
Up The Hill And Round The Bend
A Seasonal Cook in Turkey
Catherine Bennett
Dark Readers
Damn Interesting
Bookables
Books, Biscuits, and tea
little paper pages
The Hungry Reader
So Many books So Little Time
the thrifty garden/home
eat like a girl
Writers and Artists Blog
Thursday, 21 August 2014
My First Kindle
I always swore I would never get a Kindle. I LOVE real print books.
When my Granddad died, one of the things that I took from the house, as well as two of my Grandmother's necklaces and a trinket or two was his Kindle. It seemed appropriate to take something like that, I like books, I used to recommend books to him and he to me. I was excited to see what was on there, his last recommendations, if you will. ;(
He had a few John Grisham's and both The Moonstone and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I had been reading The Moonstone to Grandma when I visited 6 months before, and had recommended it. So it was lovely to see what he had been reading and that I could carry on reading his recommendations for a few months after his death.
For the past couple of weeks, my Kindle has lived in my handbag. I read Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo on it, John Green has been mentioning it for years and Nerdfighters around the world have just read it for the book club.
So lets really get down to the pros and cons.
Pros
Kindles are great for having more than one book on it. You never have a moment without a book to read, without the hefty weight of carrying a shelf around with you.
On that note; very lightweight. I hardly notice it in my cavernous handbag. chosen for it's ability to hold paperbacks - Side note: how else do you choose a hand bag? Colour, yes. Pockets & secret pockets, yes. Does it hold a paperback, absolutely.
The size is also pretty good, I can hold it in one hand, and not feel like I have to juggle too much.
My last blog mentioned the best gadgets for books, many of them were to help hold a book open with one hand or no hands! With a Kindle you can stand up and read with one hand and turn the page. Which is really useful for standing up in the tube.
Sending word documents to my kindle is a god send. As an editor, carting around great sheafs of manuscripts is just ridiculous, with a kindle I can read what ever I have on the go
Cons
Covers. I don't like that I can't see what people are reading on the train. I love the little train conversations about books and the stories both of us are reading. I also do alot of my window shopping on the train, to really get a feel of what people are reading. Not having book covers with clear titles is a huge loss of effortless publicity for the publisher.
Covers. I inherited my kindle from my Grandfather, it never left the house and was carefully put on the bedside table. The poor thing has had a baptism of fire in the depths of my handbag and has something sticky on the screen, and the paint is chipping off a little. I now have to buy one of those fetching kindle covers I see people using. But I don't really want a cover, it makes it bulkier and
Locations? What is this "locations"? Non linear, random, totally mental deviation from the page number. Very irritating. My hackles are up!
The percentage, pretty useful when talking about the book you're reading: "I'm about 37% through, shes just found the cat..." That does make things simpler than holding up the book and saying: "errrr about that far." But you can't collaborate with people.
Verdict
It is more likely that I'll use the kindle for work stuff and utilise my currently 1hr 20 min commute every day, while pleasure reading would remain a more 3D experience.I hope people continue to read on trains so I know what to read next. This is one reason why I really like @Booksundergrnd. A company, putting print books into the tube system. Check them out!
I saw the shock of the fall only last week, making it's way along the platform at Piccadilly Circus.
When my Granddad died, one of the things that I took from the house, as well as two of my Grandmother's necklaces and a trinket or two was his Kindle. It seemed appropriate to take something like that, I like books, I used to recommend books to him and he to me. I was excited to see what was on there, his last recommendations, if you will. ;(
He had a few John Grisham's and both The Moonstone and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I had been reading The Moonstone to Grandma when I visited 6 months before, and had recommended it. So it was lovely to see what he had been reading and that I could carry on reading his recommendations for a few months after his death.
For the past couple of weeks, my Kindle has lived in my handbag. I read Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo on it, John Green has been mentioning it for years and Nerdfighters around the world have just read it for the book club.
So lets really get down to the pros and cons.
Pros
Kindles are great for having more than one book on it. You never have a moment without a book to read, without the hefty weight of carrying a shelf around with you.
On that note; very lightweight. I hardly notice it in my cavernous handbag. chosen for it's ability to hold paperbacks - Side note: how else do you choose a hand bag? Colour, yes. Pockets & secret pockets, yes. Does it hold a paperback, absolutely.
The size is also pretty good, I can hold it in one hand, and not feel like I have to juggle too much.
My last blog mentioned the best gadgets for books, many of them were to help hold a book open with one hand or no hands! With a Kindle you can stand up and read with one hand and turn the page. Which is really useful for standing up in the tube.
Sending word documents to my kindle is a god send. As an editor, carting around great sheafs of manuscripts is just ridiculous, with a kindle I can read what ever I have on the go
Cons
Covers. I don't like that I can't see what people are reading on the train. I love the little train conversations about books and the stories both of us are reading. I also do alot of my window shopping on the train, to really get a feel of what people are reading. Not having book covers with clear titles is a huge loss of effortless publicity for the publisher.
Covers. I inherited my kindle from my Grandfather, it never left the house and was carefully put on the bedside table. The poor thing has had a baptism of fire in the depths of my handbag and has something sticky on the screen, and the paint is chipping off a little. I now have to buy one of those fetching kindle covers I see people using. But I don't really want a cover, it makes it bulkier and
Locations? What is this "locations"? Non linear, random, totally mental deviation from the page number. Very irritating. My hackles are up!
The percentage, pretty useful when talking about the book you're reading: "I'm about 37% through, shes just found the cat..." That does make things simpler than holding up the book and saying: "errrr about that far." But you can't collaborate with people.
Verdict
It is more likely that I'll use the kindle for work stuff and utilise my currently 1hr 20 min commute every day, while pleasure reading would remain a more 3D experience.I hope people continue to read on trains so I know what to read next. This is one reason why I really like @Booksundergrnd. A company, putting print books into the tube system. Check them out!
I saw the shock of the fall only last week, making it's way along the platform at Piccadilly Circus.
Monday, 3 December 2012
Ch-Ch-Ch CHANGES!
Hey Everyone,
Those of you who follow me on twitter may have noticed a few little tweaks here and there. Yes, finally, I am no longer an intern in books. I thought it was time for a revamp and a change of gear for what I want to do with this blog.
First:
I am now officially Storiesinbooks. Because I still want to be in books, so far in them, wrapped up in them. I just want to read read read. So I will be writing about books and publishing even more, as well as throwing a bit more of my personality into the mix. I want this blog to be about books, but also about me; about my story.
Second:
The colours. I think it is time I grew up out of pink. There might be a rainbow of templates for the next few weeks, as I figure out a more appropriate backdrop, please bare with my design changes!
Third:
I want to work on my own writing. I currently work at a YA story sharing community. Which is incredible, I never thought I would get to work on a site, similar to what I used to write on as a teenager. I would love to show case a bit more of my creative writing on my blog, so look out for that.
I hope that these changes can reflect where I want my blog and also my career to go. The passion that I have for reading and books in general is fantastic. I don't know how I could be happy unless I ensure that my job, and every job after it, is cultural and bookish.
Wish me luck!
Those of you who follow me on twitter may have noticed a few little tweaks here and there. Yes, finally, I am no longer an intern in books. I thought it was time for a revamp and a change of gear for what I want to do with this blog.
First:
I am now officially Storiesinbooks. Because I still want to be in books, so far in them, wrapped up in them. I just want to read read read. So I will be writing about books and publishing even more, as well as throwing a bit more of my personality into the mix. I want this blog to be about books, but also about me; about my story.
Second:
The colours. I think it is time I grew up out of pink. There might be a rainbow of templates for the next few weeks, as I figure out a more appropriate backdrop, please bare with my design changes!
Third:
I want to work on my own writing. I currently work at a YA story sharing community. Which is incredible, I never thought I would get to work on a site, similar to what I used to write on as a teenager. I would love to show case a bit more of my creative writing on my blog, so look out for that.
I hope that these changes can reflect where I want my blog and also my career to go. The passion that I have for reading and books in general is fantastic. I don't know how I could be happy unless I ensure that my job, and every job after it, is cultural and bookish.
Wish me luck!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)