About Me

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London, United Kingdom
Holly Searle is a writer who was born in Westminster in the middle of London. She shares her birthday with Jarvis Cocker and David Seaman and like Jarvis Cocker she wears glasses but has nothing whatsoever in common with David Seaman. She is fascinated by words, people and their stories, and regularly spends hours fantasising about being offered a weekly column. She has a degree in Film and Television which she gained from Brunel University in 1997. She has been blessed with two quite remarkable children whom she adores. She enjoys the company of her friends and the circus that is life. Long Walk to Forever by Kurt Vonnegut is her favourite short story. She is the author of the published children's tale The Story of Balan Singh, and is currently working on her first book.

Sunday, 22 February 2015

On The Plus Side By Holly Searle



Good grief Charlie Brown! It's been a bit of an emotional roller-coaster for me over the past few months. Up and down, up and down, up and down. so much so, that in the end I told the guy who was running the ride to let me off.

Are you sure he said?

Ex post facto I look him in the eye and say, as he lets me off.

I don't look back as I walk away swaying like a seafarer who has been away at sea for far too long, and one who can't seem to find their land legs after having lost touch with the even steadfast reliability that is terra firma.

Each step is an effort. The roller-coaster has left me mentally and physically dizzy. My balance is well off kilter. But as I place one foot in front of the next, just like Beyoncé Knowles performance on the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury in 2011, I smash it.

The crazy in love oppression fades and I am walking like a boss.

I can breath again.

I am a single lady.

Wuh uh oh uh uh oh oh uh oh uh uh oh
Wuh uh oh uh uh oh oh uh oh uh uh oh

And it's all good. And I learnt a lot. Most of all I learnt that I like my space. I like the peace and quiet that I deserve and relish at the end of each day.

I like the sleeping in my bed. I like sleeping full stop. I like the freedom to be creative and not being smothered by the lack of laughter and playfulness.

I like to manage myself, and my income. It's something that I have learnt to do after being a lone parent and running a household for twenty years plus.

I like watching what I like to watch. I like going to the cinema and seeing old movies.

I like to keep my intellect nourished with the vitamins of popular culture and the abstract quirkiness of random daily conversations with other people.

I find that fascinating.

I find humanity fascinating.

I like colour in my life.

And I like laughing. I like funny people. And I like being happy.

And whilst I loved the idea of being loved and cherished. The tenderness of this soon dissipated when the up close and personal of domesticity came in to play.

A school boy/girl error on both of our parts.

But in the days that have passed by, I have been keeping a daily note of all the positive things that happen to me on a daily basis, as I felt (for a tiny moment in the aftermath at least), that I was a bit rubbish.

And this minor self preservation experiment has proved to been one of the most personable revealing things I have ever done.

Every day I have been on the receiving end of complements and praise either for something I have done, or because of something I have said. Or simply due to the way I looked.

In turn I have ensured that I have been consciously helpful or have praised someone else, or have just assisted a random stranger with something that made their day go by a little easier.

And it has shown me that I am not all that bad. I am actually quite nice. In fact it has made me be grateful for so much, and bloody well glad of it. And most importantly it has revealed how indescribably rich beyond my means I am with love and friendships.

And I like me for who I am.

Ipso facto.

And they like me for who I am.

And I for now I am happy being single.

I don’t doubt that when the time is right, some keen suitor may shimmy over in my direction and ask a few pertinent questions, and hopefully some Dorothy Parker-esque impertinent ones as well.

But for now, I am quite happy to be back on solid ground, strutting my stuff and leaving a trail of laughter and Chanel No.5 in my wake.

Cue the music, the dancers and the fireworks.

Now put your hands up.

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Wuh uh oh uh uh oh oh uh oh uh uh oh


Wuh uh oh

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Snakes and Ladders By Holly Searle



Once I had a secret love, that lived within the heart of me. All too soon my secret love became impatient to be free sang Doris Day whilst sitting in a tree and dreamily staring off into space while her horse looked after her jacket and her cowgirl hat.

Of course that is what we feel a bit like when we stand on that first square on the game board of any new relationship.

It's exciting and giddy. It's like being drunk on happiness. You shine like the brightest star in the night's sky.

Twinkle twinkle twinkle.

But relationships, whoever we make them with, are precarious journeys that are subject to to all sorts of both positive and negative possibilities. We throw the dice, and move from one square to the next. Sometimes we clime a ladder and get ahead of ourselves, and sometimes we slide down a snake, and realise that we haven't got anywhere or learnt anything at all, and that we will just have to start all over again.

Oh bollocks you mentally shout.

All of a sudden, we are less Doris Day, but more Thom Yorke singing an unplugged acoustic version of Creep.

Damn those snakes.

No more twinkle. Just a lot of hiss.

Hiss, hiss, hiss.

But do you know what? It's fine. Because once you realise that all relationships contain ups and downs, and that this state of affairs is perfectly normal, you will pretty much have cracked it kid.

All relationships make us vulnerable because we open up our hearts up without thinking first. And that is how it should be. Be open, be welcoming, fill your boots people. That's who you are isn't it?

That's who I am.

But maybe we should all operate a more selective open door policy in the same way that Steve Strange (may he rest in an exquisite glamorous peace) did.

Only let someone in because you think they're right for you and not because they are trying to over impress with their smoke and mirrors trickery, and in the process hiding who they really are.

Although I am sure even Steve must have rolled his eyes a few times over those he did or didn't let in on a busy night in Soho.

So what can I tell you? Just trust your own judgement. Because in reality we all learn something that is good bad or indifferent from all of the relationships we forge.

Sometimes these relationships may last the test of time and sometimes they will not. People change their expectations as they grow and formulate varying perspectives of the world in which we all live.

It doesn't mean they love you any less, or you them. It just means that they are as busy trying to work it all out as much as you are.

It's all bonkers really.

Just invest all the time and effort that you can in all of those connections that will last longer than a packet of Jelly Babies in my house.

And do you know what, just go with the flow, and stop playing emotional Snakes and Ladders, as it's a rather silly game just contrived to make you feel momentarily elated and then a massive failure.

Personally, I blame the dice.

If you're going to throw it anywhere, throw it in the bin.

So less hiss, and twinkling is free and achievable on your own terms. Keep those doors to your heart open, and never leave your horse alone with your hat.

If you follow these simple pieces of advice.

You'll be absolutely fine.