Many versus in poetry and references in literature had led me to believe that winter is probably the most desolate and monochromatic season. Between Virginia Woolf’s ‘Melancholy were the sounds on a winter’s night’ and PB Shelley’s ‘If winter comes, can spring be far behind?’ I was convinced that winter was made of sorrow and…
2015 has been an incredible year. From meeting some of my favourite writers to travelling surreal wonderlands, I really couldn’t have asked for anything better. It has been a steeper learning curve too. Some of the most important things I learnt was to say no to free work, developing a thick skin and accepting the…
