There are exciting times ahead at The Bulb, with plans underway to relaunch it as a more focused and accessible online publication. So while we are busy brainstorming new designs and content ideas we will be cutting back our posts to once a week instead of two. This will ensure we have the time and energy to create while also doing the brainwork on a great, new publication!

We will of course keep you posted on our progress and would love to hear from you on how The Bulb can become even better. 

Anyway, on to today’s post.

Writing a novel that stands the test of time is a feat that many budding or seasoned scribes aspire to. While I admit to holding this long-term dream myself – very much as an aspiring novelist – at this stage I am content to be a reader of novels that have stood the test of time. A recent inspiration in this department has been The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins.

Penned in 1859, The Woman in White weaves intrigue, love, tragedy, cunning, blackmail, good-hearted heroes and treacherous villains into an epistolary novel set in Victorian England. It begins with the appointment of young drawing master Walter Hartright as tutor to two sisters in Cumberland, and his chance encounter with a mysterious woman in white. These two events open the reader to a plot that twists to unexpected places and events.

What captured me most about The Woman in White, and why I think it has stood the test of time, are the characters. Despite the huge social, political and religious differences between today’s world and that of Victorian England, most of Collins’ characters live on the page. They are multi-dimensional and surprising.

While the romantic leads Walter Hartright and Laura Fairlie are suitably virtuous and therefore a bit bland, it is Laura’s determined but “ugly” half-sister Marian Halcombe and her nemesis, the chilling genius Count Fosco, who light up the page. Both start on the sidelines of the novel but develop wonderfully as characters in their own right and as rivals in a game of intellectual endurance and wit.

Collins’ introduction of Marian in itself is memorable; a description recorded in the diary of Walter Hartright.

“She left the window—and I said to myself, The lady is dark. She moved forward a few steps—and I said to myself, The lady is young. She approached nearer—and I said to myself (with a sense of surprise which words fail me to express), The lady is ugly!”

What Marian lacks in beauty she makes up for in intelligence, pragmatism, resilience, adventurous spirit and even a touch of early feminism. (Don’t we all want a few of those characteristics?) While Laura faints at her husband’s harsh and drunken behaviour and becomes ill, Marian creeps out on to a veranda at midnight in the torrential rain wearing nothing but her nightgown to eavesdrop on the conversation of the two men who hold the fate of her beloved half-sister in their hands.

Just as I cheered and hooted for Marian, I jeered, booed and I think even at one point gave the evil eye to Count Fosco, one of the creepiest villains I’ve ever read. His evil lies in the way he destroys lives with charm and perfect planning.

Despite the brilliance of the characters, readers do have to remember that the prose is typically heavy, but also richly, Victorian. The novel was originally written in about 40 instalments, each with its own mini cliff-hanger, so be prepared for an abundance of sometimes unnecessary suspense.

The Woman in White was a sensation when it was first published in Charles Dickens’s weekly magazine All Year Round in 1860. It is considered to be among the first mystery novels and the first “sensation novel” – in which dramatic events were set in familiar or domestic settings. Despite disliking the “ponderosity” of the work, contemporary novelist Henry James acknowledged that the book had “introduced into fiction those most mysterious of mysteries, the mysteries which are at our own doors”. It’s inspired many stage and screen adaptations and even an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

I read The Woman in White on a 24-hour plane journey after buying it the airport by chance when getting rid of loose change. While that was less than a year ago, the characters are luring me to another read shortly because they, like the novel, stand the test of time.

Which books, and characters, have stayed with you?

(Written by Laura)

*Images from Lulu’s Bookshelf, A Book Review for You, andrewlloydwebber.com

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A couple of Sundays ago, before my eyelids had even lifted, a languid feeling of freedom washed over me. What was happening today, I wondered? Ahh, that’s right, NOTHING. Nothing at all.

As my baby daughter slept and I munched on breakfast in bed with the newspaper spread out before me, it dawned on me that it had been a long time since my day had contained no plans whatsoever. I checked my diary and realised that I hadn’t had a free day since the middle of January. That was three months: nearly half of Orla’s life, and I hadn’t had a day just to be, to hang out with my little family or to duck off and spend some time alone. Insane.

I think I need a clock like this one

Time management is a constant struggle. I love seeing my people. I love going out, exploring our little pocket of Melbourne or other areas. I love writing – my novel and for this site – and, in the time before Orla (and hopefully soon), my journalism career. I love exercising and visiting my two families, going on weekends away and the satisfaction of getting jobs done. But I also love and feel nourished by free time. So, given I’m able to find time to do all those other things relatively easily, why is free time so elusive?

This is a problem for a lot of people, particularly “multi-passionates” (isn’t that a cool term? Thanks Clare Bowditch) with jobs plus outside interests. A desire to live an enriched life is a common trait: to want to learn and travel and be fit and to socialise and create. But just as a rich meal can be delicious, too much of that succulent goodness can make you green around the gills. The same goes for a life crammed too full with activities that individually might be appealing: too much can make you ill.

In my case there is a pattern: I get tired, which is not always my signal to stop because I have an ability (or perhaps “stoopid determination” is a better description) to push through. Sometimes – particularly with a small baby – this is a strength. But if I let that go on too long my mood starts to waver; anxiety rears its hissy-voiced head and then, if I’m not really careful, there is a stomach-churning drop and I find myself as flat as a pancake. This is not fun. It is, at times, scary, because it’s then that I wonder if I’m even capable of being a mum, let alone anything else. I feel overwhelmed, my head like a pressure-cooker. I get impatient with Orla and must be a bit like this to live with (though I don’t wear overalls like Kathy Bates, god love her). Worry creeps in under the doors and windows, through the floorboards and under my skin that a big, bad depressive episode might be on its way.

That is not an OK way to live, I have decided. It doesn’t make me a good mother, partner, friend, daughter or writer. It is time to change the circuitry of my life and factor in the key ingredient that keeps me sane: free time.

I am verrrrry open to more ideas, but these two (soon-to-be three), very effective measures are now in place and I already feel saner. I highly recommend them for all those twits like me who think they need 35 hours in a day.

1. Schedule in free days – This is the most important and helpful action. Free days are NOT TO BE TOUCHED. Difficult, perhaps, but crucial.

My first one is this coming Sunday. Hello, Mother’s Day! (Brett, I’d like two poached eggs on toast with avocado, please. And a cuppa.) I am aiming for one a week. Achievable? We’ll see.

2. Allow time, religiously, for your own pursuits. Whether you have children or not, you need productive, uninterrupted time for your own projects. This time may have to be carved out or invested in.

In my case, this has been to organise some childcare. One day a week our guardian angel Lizzie arrives to look after Orla for eight hours. Though we can’t really afford a nanny (but feel that Orla is too little yet for external child care), we decided that it was an excellent investment. I can see clearly that without my precious Monday, none of my plans will come into fruition: the book won’t get finished, The Bulb (and the other exciting projects associated with it) won’t get relaunched and my journalism career will stagnate.

Having time for my own work makes me less frustrated, much happier and a much, much better parent.  This is the best investment we could make.

3. Plan. Yes, that old chestnut. The people I know who seem to have the best life balance plan their days (without being over-organised pains in the you-know-what).

I’ve always known I needed to plan my days and weeks better, but hadn’t found the right system until I read this article on “scheduling for peak performance”. It really makes sense to me and is relatively simple to apply. The only problem is I haven’t made the time to sit down on a Sunday, as the author suggests, and plan out my week. So guess what I will be doing for part of my beautiful, free Mother’s Day?

I would love to hear your suggestions for carving out time for yourself to just be. Any ideas?

(Written by Julia)

*Image courtesy of Kari’s Jibber Jabbers.

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There is a bit of a north versus south (of the river) rivalry in Melbourne. North people are very north, and south very south. So much so that it’s incredibly easy to never venture to the other side if your home, work, family and friends are all on the one side.

I must say that I can be guilty of this. As you know, I’m a north girl and a passionate one at that. But over the past six months, I’ve been working south of the river. I know. It’s shocking. I’ve been pushed out of my comfort zone and forced to explore somewhere new: South Melbourne.

And you know what? It’s been fun. Moving out of your comfort zone can give rise to inspiration in many forms. New places, experiences and people feed creativity and growth. And in this instance, a new place opened up a whole new library of friends, cafes, shops and adventures, and a new appreciation for “the south”.

As I enter my last week working in South Melbourne, I give you my hot list of favourite spots to eat, drink and shop, in the next instalment of our Mad for Melbourne series.

Giddiup cafe, South Melbourne

SOUTH MELBOURNE

Coffee: I’m not a daily coffee drinker, so when I do have my weekly coffee I want it to be a super good one. Luckily, South Melbourne, like most Melbourne suburbs, is well-stocked. Giddiup, St Ali and Dead Man Espresso have the best coffee in South Melbourne in my experience (and that of the gorgeous girls at my work).

Eating: I won’t say that the food options are consistently good in South Melbourne – there are certainly some bad eggs in the ‘hood’ – but there are definitely enough gems to keep a foodie happy day-to-day. People come from across town to eat at some of these spots.

  • Chez Dre: I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything under-par at this casual-but-chic French eatery. The breakfast menu – available all day, thank God – is outstanding. The staff are passionate and accommodating and the selection of cakes and macarons is….a problem for people like me who love sweet things! I will go here anytime.
  • St Ali: no trip to South Melbourne is complete without popping into the original incarnation of St Ali, which can now be found in London’s Clerkenwell too. Whether a quick coffee, juice, breakfast or lunch is on the agenda, you’ll be able to come and go easily here. It’s that kind of place. The mixed mushroom omelette I ate last time was made in heaven.
  • Claypots Evening Star: the low-key sibling of the St Kilda institution, this delicious seafood spot is the perfect place to spend a hot Melbourne evening, while soaking up the sights and sounds of the South Melbourne Market. The drinks menu makes it extra attractive.

Chez Dre cafe, South Melbourne

Shopping: my view is that the strength of South Melbourne’s shopping is in its top-notch spread of fabulous homewares and gift stores. In addition to the following independent highlights, there are some solid chains like Made in Japan and even Chef’s Hat for unique pieces and cheap staples.

  • In Full Bloom: the shop windows of this pretty florist inspire me every morning with their seasonally-inspired displays. The eclectic range of flowers, vases and jars, candles and cards make it a perfect regular pit-stop for gifts. Or just for inspiration.
  • Pomegranate: this gorgeous interiors and gift store has been my Mecca over Christmas and a busy weddings season. Their brother store…
  • Mr Darcyis across the road and stocks a cool mix of accessories, clothes and homewares. Friendly staff and lots of lovely things.

Mr Darcy, South Melbourne

  • Izzi & Popo: I could stay in this European homewares and antiques store all day. From furniture to table linen to curiosities, you can buy or hire their goods (I hired velvet-covered chairs, antique baby baths on stands and more for my recent wedding and the staff are wonderful.
  • Nest: I’ve been buying my beloved Aesop products here, but Nest’s beautiful bedding, screenprints and accessories are the stars of the show.
  • Coventry Bookstore: this space has a very welcoming and cosy feel, like any good bookstore should. The excellent selection of art and design, food books and fiction, as well as the special children’s section, makes it a lovely place to linger.
  • South Melbourne Market: on Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, South Melbourne swells with extra people in search of the market’s fruit and veg, meat and seafood, flowers, household goods and cafes. Its recent refurb, including the addition of SO:ME Space – a hub for independent and emerging designers from around Australia – makes it an interesting stop on the South Melbourne trail.
What are your favourite South Melbourne haunts?

(Written by Sarah)

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Every day, without fail, a story of life in the heart of London drops in to my inbox. They are stories of workers, buildings, animals, criminals, writers, merchants, children, teachers and artists; their history, their present lives and their hopes and fears for the future. They are all the stories hunted out, recorded and shared by the anonymous The Gentle Author on the blog Spitalfields Life.

Spitalfields is an area of London that borders the City’s financial district, but leaves the ethos of sharp-suited bankers far behind as it stretches in to the eclectic, vibrant, multicultural, historic and ever-changing East End. I’m lucky enough to look out onto Spitalfieds from my desk, watching the sun, wind and rain transform the mood of the winding streets. I escape to it on my lunch breaks, crossing Bishopsgate to seek out the little Thai takeaway, the vintage clothes seller or the Brazillian coffee seller. It’s my hidey hole to escape the mayhem of office life.

I’ve fallen a little bit in love with this pocket of London and Spitalfields Life feeds that love every day. In the way that The Bulb loves blogs that make us smarter – such as Shortlist Daily, Brain Pickings and The Week – Spitalfields Life makes me more curious; more curious about the history of London, more curious about the social fabric of the city, and more curious about people’s stories. By reading the story of Clive Murphy, I learnt what a Phillumenist is. By reading the story of Robson Cezar, I learnt was is possible when you combine bottletops and artistry.

Robson Cezar, king of the bottle tops, on Spitalfields Life

Clive Murphy, Phillumenist, as featured on Spitalfields Life

In fact, reading the many memoirs of Spitalfields elders on the blog – such as the cracker earlier this week on Betty Levy of Petticoat Lane – was one of the inspirations that led me to record the stories of my own Grandfather, via email, in the final years of his life.

By showing me that recording the life stories of others was simply a matter of taking time out of my own life, the Gentle Author helped me become closer to one of the most important men in my life. I am beyond grateful for the times when I decided not to fill my life up with another social engagement, but instead to sit at my computer and correspond with my Grandad, to learn more about the 20th century world that he lived in.

Spitalfields Life captures the world of Spitalfields every day and in that way is more than a blog. It is a social history. Just as Samuel Pepys’ diaries capture 17th century London and Charles Dickens’ Night Walks record life in the city’s 18th century, The Gentle Author is capturing life in 21st century London, armed with what must be an insatiable curiosity and a talent for charming, heartfelt anthologies from interviewees.

Betty Levy of Petticoat Lane, picture shared by Spitalfields Life

Curiosity in human life and a passion to write about people and their stories is a motivation for many writers, but few take it to the extreme The Gentle Author has. Four years ago, the Author promised to write every day about life in this part of London and share it at www.spitalfieldslife.com.  The aim: to write 10,000 stories about “the exuberant richness and multiplicity of culture in this place”, which will take an estimated 27 years and four months. “What kind of life shall we be living in 2037 when I write my 10,000th post?,” the author asks. It’s a fascinating question that makes my mind become almost overwhelmed with possibilities.

Here are just three of my favourite regular columns:

1. Dogs of Spitalfields: owners out for walk in East End parks describe their relationships, and pose for a photo, with their dogs. Not only does this show the pleasure of compansionship, but it profiles the diverse collection of eclectic locals that make the East End the vibrant place it is. Look at these recent ones, or the stories of dogs in Spitalfields in Autumn.

Neen and Caroline (picture Sarah Ainslie, Spitalfields Life)

 2. Photographs that capture the London of Old, beautifully prefaced with evocative words from The Gentle Author. From the Thames of old London, to the doors of old London, to the fogs and smogs of old London, and many more.

The Thames of Old London (Image from The Bishopsgate Institute archive, shared by Spitalfields Life)

3. The photo anthologies of Spitalfields Life’s contributing photographer Phil Maxwell, who has taken more pictures on Brick Lane than any other photographer. His haunting portraits include children at play, old ladies out and about, and commuters on the tube.

Phil Maxwell’s image of and Old Lady of Spitalfieds

If you like London, escapism, history or inspiring stories, then I recommend subscribing to Spitalfields Life’s daily email. Or if inbox bombardment isn’t your thing, then just check the site every now and again for a little shot of inspiration, or buy The Gentle Author’s book, Spitalfieds Life.

For those in London, The Gentle Author will be telling the tales of artefacts from Spitalfields that carry the story of the place at the London Literature Festival at the Southbank Centre on Saturday 1st June.

(Written  by Laura)

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Last month I was lucky enough to see  - for the fifth time – my favourite band, The Frames, in concert in Melbourne. As always this Irish rock-folk group led by charismatic, chaotic, endearing, hilarious, brilliant frontman Glen Hansard, blew me away. They made me laugh, raised the hairs on my neck, brought tears to my eyes and had me singing, clapping and woohoo-ing loudly. They also brought home to me the importance of passion.

While the rest of The Frames deserve plaudits Hansard, to me, is the embodiment of passion. It’s visceral. It’s in his lyrics. It’s in the furious or gentle strumming of his guitar. It’s in the shouted agony in some of his songs; the haunting sadness that can descend upon him; the weaving of his many very funny tales; his obvious love for his bandmates, and the frequent laughter. Hansard, distinctive with his mop of curly red hair and intense eyes, has fronted The Frames for over 20 years. He learned his craft busking on the streets of Dublin and had a part in cult Irish film The Commitments. More recently he starred in the wonderful film Once, for which he and co-star (and former partner) Marketa Irglova earned an Oscar for the spine-tingling song, Falling Slowly.

Watching him charm, stagger, and touch every person in that audience made me realise, if I didn’t know it before, that passion is what lies behind the best art. Literature, passionately conceived and written. Visual art, created in a great burst or over a simmering, passionate season. And of course music would be just empty words and melodies without the passion of its creator.

Watching Hansard at work on stage (and later, as he led the whole band, plus string and brass accompanists, up the aisles, out the door and into the foyer of the recital hall) I wanted to get creating myself. I could feel the buzz of my great creative passion – writing – surging through my veins. I had such clarity about what I wanted to do, and felt so positive about doing it. Passion, it seems, can be contagious.

So here I share with you a few of the songs which stirred this feeling within me, in the hope they might for you to. At the end of the post, too, I’ve included a couple of links on finding your passion, which might be useful if sometimes it has slipped from your grip.

FOUR PASSION-INDUCING SONGS BY GLEN HANSARD/THE FRAMES

Come Away to the Water, written by Hansard for the film The Hunger Games.

Song of Good Hope, written for a friend of Hansard’s who, though aged only in his thirties, is battling his second bout of cancer. This pressed me right in the tear ducts and made me squeeze the knee of Loretta, one of my dearest friends, who sat beside me.

Leave. Devastating. Heart-breaking. I never would, even if he asked me to.

Lay Me Down, the first song of The Frames’ that I ever heard, from their second album. It stopped me in my tracks the way only a song that seems complete can. That completeness to me is in the reverberating drums, the gentle-touch violin and the dark beauty of the lyrics, which are about being buried with a lover. I still close my eyes and feel that violin right across my back every time I hear it.

 

WANT SOME HELP TAPPING INTO YOUR PASSION?

Watch this video of Ken Robinson, a prominent thinker on creativity and self-fulfilment, speak at The School of Life in London (hat-tip to Brain Pickings for bringing it to my attention):

Watch this TED lecture by Simon Sinek on seeking out the “why” of what you’re doing (hat-tip to Kate McCormack). It sparked a few light-bulb moments for me.

And finally, do let us know what your passion is. What gives you that beautiful sense of clarity?

(Written by Julia)

 

 

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