The world from my window

At last, my blog book,  A Year in Lush Places: Tales from England's Rural Underbelly , is out in paperback. It's been available in Kindle format for a little while now and I've been like an ant with a overdose of formic acid as I waited for the 'proper' book to arrive. And now it has, thanks to the good folks at FeedaRead .  It will also be available from leading booksellers. It's a slim little number - it's a novella, you see. Sneeze and you might miss a vital bit of the plot. But if you enjoy the Dorset part of this blog, I think you'll enjoy the book. Here's the blurb: Immersed in a sea of Barbour wearers and waves of Daily Mail readers, Maddie Grigg charts the highs and lows of a Dorset year as she attempts to swim against the tide in the lively and lovely village of Lush Places. From singing groups, book clubs and point-to-point, not to mention election wars, the village has it all. A quiet rebel, Maddie is married to a charmer, a m...

In the summer of 2007 I reinvented myself. I was tired of being pigeon-holed under the name I usually went by. I wanted to break free from the personal straitjacket of a locally high profile job I'd had for five years. So I took the first name of my maternal grandmother and married it to the maiden surname of my maternal grandmother. And so Maddie Grigg was born. I liked her a lot. She was a bit kooky, a wild romantic who lapped up the world around her and with a fine eye for detail, the amusing and the amazing. She was my online self, the real me behind that other, duller person. A rural Bridget Jones and not as fat. The irony is that the Grigg side of me comes from a long line of recluses, three of whom to this day live in separate corners of the same Somerset field. It's as if my assertive granny (Maddie) has kicked my shy granny into action. One of Maddie's poems was shortlisted in the prestigious Bridport Prize competition, her blog was chosen as a Blog of Not...

A few months ago, a talented young scriptwriter moved into The Enchanted Village. 'Your blog would make a great film or maybe a TV series,' she said.  She'd had a few to drink of course - it was Christmas and the Griggs and the Champagne-Charlies were hitting the gin and tonics - but the idea galloped away with her, and with me. I could see myself being feted by celebrity interviewers, hiring a dresser, being on the front cover of the Sunday supplements or maybe even The Marshwood Vale Magazine . We drew up a fantasy cast list. I became the willowy Joely Richardson and Mr Grigg Ray Winstone. All the other British actors slotted into place. It would be her spring project, the scriptwriter said, as if she didn't have enough to do to while away her time. And then I made the mistake of telling Mr Grigg, who now insists on saying 'shut it' every five minutes while looking at me with a wide-boy grin. We've become Ray and Joely and I'm not sure how i...