Susan, Author at Shedwriting

October 10, 2026October 10, 2026

Reality is Real

The comedy wildlife awards are here again. It’s one of my favourite annual events and yet I noticed something slightly different this year. When the announcement came my first thought (and it arrived very quickly) was that these images were probably AI-generated. But the source was trustworthy, I reminded myself, and therefore the cute pictures were once again available for some heartfelt giggles.

What a sad turn of affairs. I never wanted to be the cynical person of the group, always pointing out that things might not be what they seem, or reminding all the sweetly-accepting people around me that you can’t trust anyone these days. When did I become like this? I feel sad that one of my happiest activities (looking at cute animals on the internet) is now clouded with uncertainty and mistrust. AI is all over the place lately and I don’t like it. I have to use it at work and I don’t like it. As an author and creative I really REALLY don’t like it (writing a book is long and hard for us humans).

But is the bubble going to burst? Is it ‘super’ rather than ‘artificial’? Is it going to grow so big while learning from its own slop that it ends up eating itself? One can only hope.

At any rate, here are the comedy wildlife award winners. From a giraffe with mad hair to a ballet-dancing hawk, they’re real and gorgeous and funny. It might be slightly harder these days to find the beauty in real life but it’s still there. Let’s hold onto that.

June 12, 2026October 10, 2026

Is it Here?

There must be a part of my brain that simply refuses to believe that my book has arrived in the world. From selling out at the launch (this never happens apparently, bookshop No Alibis were surprised and delighted) to struggling to see it in Waterstones. Is it here? Why yes, yes it is. And it’s so beautiful.

We sold out at the launch! What?

Follow me as I step into the Big Easons on O’Connell Street, Dublin

I didn’t see it! For ages! How embarrassing…

May 30, 2026June 12, 2026

What Just Happened?

On Stage!

Well it’s been quite a time. The month of May has left my mind tired and my heart full. To see my book out in the world continues to be amazing and surreal, and the love from readers and supporters just keeps coming. I’m truly grateful.

First of all the celebrations when THE PROOF COPY arrived

Then the emotional handover of author copies to parents

Then came the launch party – the best night EVER. Pics will be here soon!

One Year is now out in the world and (in case it wasn’t obvious) I still can’t believe it. Thank you Gill Books for being talented and clever and pushing me to make this book shine. Thank you everyone for buying it, reading it, telling others about it and generally being wonderful. More soon but meantime I’m still doing publicity and resting in the knowledge that my book will find its way to anyone who needs it.

Fly little debut memoir, fly…

January 7, 2026January 7, 2026

Happy New Year

It’s dark in January, but there’s light ahead, and light within. Revisiting this wonderful poem by John O’Donohue.

October 9, 2025January 7, 2026

Mercy

There are cobwebs all over the place lately, in the writing shed, yes, but in the house too. I was cooking dinner the other day and had to sweep aside layers of cobweb to reach the olive oil on the top shelf (and could hear Granny’s horrified intake of breath) and admitted that I really should do a deep clean of the kitchen soon. It was like Miss Havisham’s attic. I’ve always loved spiders and feel terrible about vacuuming up their homes, double checking that everyone in the eight-legged family has moved out.

A few days later, while hanging out some laundry on a rare sunny day, I heard a loud humming noise, like a generator, coming from the writing shed. It sounded like a lot (a LOT) of buzzy insects. Sure enough, when I made my way towards the open door, I thought I saw a swarm of wasps. I stepped back and then just watched them. Hundreds and hundreds of honey bees, I soon realised on closer inspection, were clambering all over the desk and chair and roof, and despite an unconscious recoil of fear, I knew instinctively that they meant no harm. They were simply lost.

Perhaps they had moved with their queen to find a new home, or maybe they had been thrown out of the hive and had to find somewhere new to live. The noise they made! It was enthralling to watch. As twilight arrived a few hours later, I looked into the shed and saw that they had indeed moved on. New homes beckoned.

Like us humans, insects and arachnids need places to live, to find somewhere to call home. I’m always glad when I leave them in peace to continue their busy days. It’s a small thing, but making time to be part of their lives and watch their fascinating behaviour has been keeping me sane.

The world is not kind right now, abuse of power is normalised while compassion seems beyond our sights. But I know that in small ways all around the globe there are people who are full of love, who find meaning in holding the hand of a loved one, who seek first the good in another person. We don’t hear about this love, but it exists.

My inability to kill small creatures seems a kind of mercy in dark days. Kindness is not dead, it’s as quietly powerful as ever it was, and shouting cruelty will have its day soon enough. The pendulum swings.