From disco-y wetlook to virgin Brazilian

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In homage to Americanah’, a spot more hair business.  There was actually a sign in a local hairdresser advertising Virgin Brazilian hair.  We weren’t sure if the adjective was being applied to the donator or the hair itself.  I’m afraid I was too much of a coward to ask.

Anyway, it makes the days of wetlook and gericurl seem so much more innocent.

 

The pink, sparkly cover – a confession

A story for a compilation for girls.  No magic, no princesses. This was one of my first paid commissions and my type of story.

I sent in proposals for two stories.  One was about two young sisters who made their arthritic grandmother a robotic arm out of an extendable mop handle.  The the was a short, sweet tale about a girl who is inspired by the shape and tones of a bees wing to enter the school carnival costume.  See?  No magic.  No princesses.

The proposals were duly submitted and accepted.  I wrote the stories and eventually received a big envelope with a copy of the book. My daughter and I, eagerly tipped it out on to the sofa and instantly flailed around searching for our sunglasses.

Treasuries: Stories for Girls

This picture does not do justice to the pinkness, the glitter and – well – the pinkness.

My daughter, who has nothing to do with ballet, or horses (after being bitten by one) gave me a ‘sell out’ look and disappeared upstairs.   It was a good lesson in a) how to write short stories for publication in children’s anthologies, b) gender-specific marketing and c) how parents start to disappoint there children so, so soon.