My profile

I must have drawn a thousand dream houses, inspired by places I’ve visited and fallen in love with. I’ve even built some of them as miniature models, and others have become characters in my stories. Recognisable, one-of-a-kind houses are an essential part of any great saga: think of Hogwarts or the Burrow in Harry Potter, the Halliwell Manor in Charmed, or even Monica’s flat in Friends. Readers and viewers alike need an imaginary place to come home to whenever they return to your work. My little sister is the person I most like to consult about this. She has a real feel for atmosphere, and I designed most of our imaginary homes with her in mind first.

As an Old Crone neophyte, I have started early to surround myself with few people and many cats on top of taking up hobbies such as crocheting to boost my Old Crone meditative state. Knitting is still next level for me. My grandmother's extraordinary knitting skills are only matched by her extraordinarily ill temper (love you grandma). She's any aspiring Old Crone ultimate goal and role model. Most of the patterns of the objects I crochet were made by wonderful creators I encountered via Etsy.

I was never much of a collector. I tried Pokemon cards when I was little, it didn't stick. I went through other phases, even those little medals you can get inside monuments and Historic sites. For the past few years, I have been pretty consistent in building an ever growing collection of teapots and cups. My childhood self would be baffled at how much joy adult me gets from admiring hand-made ceramics. I can assure you that I regularly use every item in my collection!

I actually started learning how to play guitar for one reason only: I wanted to be able to play the guitars that every self-respecting youth hostel leaves out for its guests. You usually find them in the common room, covered in stickers, sometimes missing a string (or two). My dream was to sink into any battered old sofa and play Bob Dylan's “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” on one of those relics. I’ve broadened my repertoire since then, and lately I’ve been trying my hand at Jeff Buckley songs.

Cinema is one of my greatest passions, and I owe it to my mother. She loved films so much, and was so eager to share them, that she introduced me to Tarantino when I was barely eleven. I’ve never resented her for it, quite the opposite! I ended up merging both my parents’ passions into one career: my research explores the relationship between English literature and cinema. Had I not become a teacher, I would have loved to write and make films, as visual language fascinates me. I also once pictured myself as an archaeologist, or a tea sommelier. But until I find a way to live a thousand lives at once, I’ll keep to writing and teaching.

My first backpacking trip was around the UK at seventeen, and I started travelling solo at nineteen. I can’t pinpoint exactly what drew me to it. At first, I think it was a teenage craving to escape my routine, and a wish to be just like my big brother, the most seasoned, die-hard globetrotter I know, always off the beaten track. But mostly, I wanted to prove something to myself, and I ended up genuinely loving backpacking: making friends from all over the world in youth hostels, spending hours reading on endless train rides, sleeping in a tent on the beach or in the rain on a deserted mountainside, losing myself completely in nature, silence, beauty… And every time, I found my faith in humanity and in the world restored.

I have been failing to learn Japanese for nearly ten years. I must have relearnt my hiragana and katakana charts a dozen times, and I’m still going round in circles with the first fifty kanji. If I were Sisyphus, Japanese would be my rock. But, like him, I keep pushing, in the hope that one day I’ll return to Japan and manage to hold a conversation that goes beyond a hesitant (if effective) order of coffee jelly in a café.

I love running through it with my father, while listening to music. Sometimes we manage to spot deer and other animals, which always feels magical. Whatever the season, the forest is breathtaking. I remember running there at -5°C one winter, when everything, from the ground to the treetops, glittered with frost. I also go there with my friend Clem for long walks, dreaming of living in the forest together like two old hermit crones. But I’m not fooling myself: I’m more of a town rat than a country mouse. I may fancy myself a witch and a child of the forest, but it still takes me a good few minutes (and some help from the staff) to find the herbs I need at the supermarket.