In March

Emerging from hibernation + goblin eating, night trees, Usha’s Pickle Digest and more

Mar 03, 2026

New month, new subscriber giveaway! Begin or renew an annual subscription in March, and you’ll be automatically entered into a prize draw to win a lovely box of goodies, including a copy of our our group read, a signed copy of Enchantment, some of my writing essentials (a refillable ink pen, a bottle of ink, a Rhodia notebook, Blackwing pencils), and the brand new, hot-off-the-press Clearing stickers • I’m making a couple of live appearances in London in March: Sunday Papers Live in Clerkenwell on 8th March, and One Track Minds on March 10th at Wilton’s Music Hall.

Hello,

A few times last week, I glanced up at the high window by my desk and saw blue skies. Sometimes, I remembered to go outside and walk beneath them. Spring is here, albeit tentatively. It always was an uncertain season, two steps forward, one step back. March toys with us, considers the idea of sunshine, tries it on for size. But it is not sure, entirely, if warm colours suit it. Too easily, it reverts to moody greys.

It’s time for me to emerge from hibernation. I’ve had my head down, working on the edits for my new book, and all my routines have fallen away. February vanished under a blanket of work and travel. Nothing else got done. I wondered, halfway through, whether I could learn a better way to write than this, the perpetual binary of intense, world-forgetting creation, or else nothing at all. Perhaps I could be more consistent in the future? In truth, I doubt it. I would actually prefer to be more extreme in my writing phases, to speak to no-one at all, to receive my meals as a tray left outside my door and to cut off the world until my work is done. It’s probably a good thing that’s impossible.

Anyway: March. My edits are complete, for now. The outside beckons. I have a pile of books to read, and I might start replying to emails again (but I make no promises). I also have plans to work my way through the house, tidying away a year’s accumulation of detritus. Maybe I will even see it through. It is spring-cleaning time, and I’m dreaming of the clarity that comes from order and constraint. One day, I will be an entirely new kind of person who does not accumulate unnecessary things. One day.

In the meantime, we are having a little spring clean of this newsletter. Nothing alarming is happening - it’s all about improving the offer - but you’ll get a couple of emails in the next few weeks, outlining a special treat for annual subscribers, and a better package for the Retreat Tier. Free subscribers remain very welcome indeed. I’m just making everything a little tidier.

Congratulations to Esin, who won February’s new subscriber draw, and is now about to receive this delightful snail, as well as many other good things!

What I’ve been up to

Mostly writing, to be honest. And growling at anyone who approaches my door.

I’ve been loving our group read of The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating - and I so enjoyed talking to Josie George about her very personal connections to the book. Do listen to our conversation if you haven’t already - she’s always such a thoughtful presence.

We have a couple of weeks left on the Wild Snail Readalong, so there’s plenty of time to start if you haven’t already. And a heads-up: April’s readalong will be M.F.K. Fisher’s The Gastronomical Me. Get your copy early!

March notions…

Goblin-mode eating: I’ve been subsisting on lentil cakes with cheddar and tomatoes, bagels with peanut butter, and dry Apricot Wheats straight from the box, because I cannot write a book and think meaningful thoughts about food. I may now expand my diet, but I make no promises.
Ginger Defence juice, which has probably kept me alive given the previous paragraph. I still caught a cold, mind.
The Night Life of Trees. The forest-dwelling Gond tribe of India see trees as working hard all day, and at night revealing a secret, luminous spirit aspect, which is captured in these gorgeous illustrations.
Do you have swifts in your street? If so, please consider putting up a swift nesting box before they arrive in April/May. This means that established colonies can grow, which is one of the best ways to help this dwindling species. I’ll be adding an extra box to my house this year, and encouraging my neighbours to do the same.
Usha’s Pickle Digest. Have you heard of this book? It’s an extremely detailed, bumper-sized, deeply idiosyncratic collection of Indian pickle recipes, which is to say I utterly adore it. For years, it circulated as a PDF online, but you can now buy a print-on-demand copy on Amazon (this is one of the few times I will link to Amazon, but in this case it’s the only way). It looks like it was designed and photocopied by someone’s tweenager in 1992, but if you love pickles, you will not be sorry. The story behind the book’s scarcity is actually rather sad - its author Usha R Prabakaran became very ill just as it was published - but it took on a life of its own. You can read her story in the Irish Times.
Hellebores. They are the most glorious winter flower, and I’ve just planted some new ones, deep burgundy and lime green. Delicious.