by Liz Champion | Oct 5, 2018 | Memoir
Friday is a momentous day. I make a movie at work and it looks great, even if I do say so myself. I drive home feeling rather chuffed. When I’m stuck in traffic on the motorway I wonder if maybe a film career is calling. Perhaps my 30-second movie is just the start....
by Liz Champion | Sep 28, 2018 | Memoir
My sister is at a wedding, so I’ve offered to have her dog for the day, but when the dog turns up he’s got a large bag and enough food to last the month. “He’s staying for a few days then?” Chris asks, taking the bag and lifting it onto the table. “It looks that way,”...
by Liz Champion | Sep 21, 2018 | Memoir
I wrote this piece back in 2015 when Olivia was only two. As part of my university module on contemporary literature I had to write a response to Kathleen Jamie’s Sightlines, focusing on moments of time, a theme of the book, and publish it on the course blog. I...
by Liz Champion | Sep 10, 2018 | Memoir
“It’s a bit Jaws-esque,” Chris says as we climb out of the car. “What does that mean?” Olivia asks. “Nothing,” I say, shooting a warning look at Chris who really should know better than to mention films about man-eating sharks in front of a six-year-old, even if it...
by Liz Champion | Aug 31, 2018 | Memoir
I JUMP out of bed, race to the door and start screaming. Someone is coming to murder me. I scream louder. I’m so loud I wake myself up. “What’re you doing?” Chris is sitting bolt upright, blinking, looking a little startled. My heart is thudding in my...
