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Well you can probably guess that I enjoy reading (I know, shocker!!) and I love watching films, finding new things to inspire me and my writing. Most people don't this, but I also love to run!

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"All About You" 2019 will encompass more than just that! (I mean that could apply to absolutely anyone. Not getting off to a good start is it?)
'It will be hard for you to hide anything - especially your true feelings - and the drama will be intense. You will experience big changes at this time, and in true Leo form you'll want to broadcast them (if they're good)' The website went on to say that I have a precious Leo EGO, so I think that's enough of the horoscopes for one day!!

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In an entirely perfect world I'd have lost count of how many screenplays I've written and succeeded with. I would like to think I'll be married, maybe even with a kid on the way. I never thought I'd like the idea of a conventional family life, but as the years go on I know I want a family that was as happy as mine when I was young. If I had a boy I'd call him George and hope he'd be the next Orwell of his generation haha.

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what were your childhood ambitions/ strongest memories?

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what were your childhood ambitions/ strongest memories?

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My mum always tells me that when I was young I wanted to own a house full of snakes, like the uncle in 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' and to be a zoo keeper. Looking back it's quite a world away from my life now, I wonder where it all went wrong. My strongest childhood memory was my dad reading to me every night before bed (he always was better at the voices than mum). My favourite was 'James and the Giant Peach' by Rohald Dahl. When I think back on my childhood, I can smell, freshly baked bread (made by mum on a Sunday) and the grass just after it was cut in summer.

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all about me!

D.O.B: 20.08.1994
AGE: 24 turning 25
STAR SIGN: Leo
NICKNAMES: Katie, Sunny
UNIVERSITY: Royal Holloway (BA English Literature) & Birbeck University (MA Screenwriting)
JOB: Unemployed/ Aspiring Screen Writer.
TATOOS?
Yes! It's a quote from 'Wuthering Heights'. It says "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
SIGNIFICANCE?
My ex boyfriend bought me a gorgeous edition of 'Wuthering Heights' one year for my birthday while I was at Birbeck Uni, and a year later I was still hopelessly in love and decided to get my favourite quote tattooed to remind me of him. And if the next question is do I regret it, the answer is almost definitely YES!
BAD HABITS: Smoking and not getting enough sleep.
POLITICAL PARTY: Liberal Democrats.
PET PEEVES: Lazy people.
PHILOSOPHY: Work hard and you will succeed.

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FAVOURTIES:
COLOUR: Lavender (don't know if you can tell)!
ARTIST: Salvador Dali
FRUIT: Strawberries
VEG: Sugar Snap Peas
SONG: 'Dry Your Eyes' by The Streets
DAY OF THE WEEK: Wednesday
SOFT DRINK: Coffee (Flat White)
ALCOHOL: Red Wine (Merlot)
ANIMAL: Snakes
PLACE: Rome, Italy
BOOK: '1984' by George Orwell
HALLOWEEN COSTUME: Edgar Allen 'Ho'
FAIRYTALE: Little Red Riding Hood
FASHION ERA: NOW!
ALBUM: 'Rumours' by Fleetwood Mac
FILM: Call Me By Your Name

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half an hour on hold lead to a masterpiece

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half an hour on hold lead to a masterpiece

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the job centre help line is an absolute joke!

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to burn or not to burn that is the question?

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to burn or not to burn that is the question?

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click here to view sneak peaks of my screenplay, book recommendations and more (it's a work in progress, so please be kind)

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But what if, in the clammy soil, her limbs
grew warmer, shifted, stirred, kicked off
the covering of earth, the drowsing corms,
the sly worms, what if her arms reached out
to grab the stone, the grooves of her dates
under her thumb, and pulled her up? I wish.
Her bare feet walk along the gravel path
between the graves, her shroud like washing
blown onto the grass, the petals of her wreath
kissed for a bride. Nobody died. Nobody
wept. Nobody slept who couldn't be woken
by the light. If I can only push open this heavy door
she'll be standing there in the sun, dirty, tired,
wondering why do I shout, why do I run.

A thing of beauty is joy forever:

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still we keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quite breathing.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident

the art of losing's not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

how is it so easy for you

to be kind to people he asked

milk and honey dripped

from my lips as i answered

cause people have not

been kind to me

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like the hops springing high,

Still I'll rise.

& he is not in a casket

nor do I say roses all around him

& mean a low blood tide

he does not return to the dirt

the stem does not bloom

from concrete. he does not

bring the flowers to his best friend's

funeral nor does he give them

to a woman who will grieve him one day

the boy is in his grandmother's garden

& the world does not matter

his lungs are full of a green, full scent

& pollen dusts his skin gold as he grows

i whispered

shut the door behind you

on days like these

i envy the sun

for he kisses every inch of you

and draws trails of sweat

down silken thighs

The universe is expanding. Look: postcards

And panties, bottles with lipstick on the rim,

Orphan socks and napkins dried into knots.

Quickly, wordlessly, all of it whisked into file

With radio waves from a generation ago

Drifting to the edge of what doesn't end,

Like the air inside a balloon. Is it bright?

Will our eyes crimp shut? Is it molten, atomic,

A conflagration of suns? It sounds like the kind of party

Your neighbours forget to invite you to: bass throbbing

Through walls, and everyone thudding around drunk

On the roof. We grind lenses to an impossible strength,

Point them toward the future, and dream of beings

We'll welcome with indefatigable hospitality:

How marvellous you've come! We won't flinch

At the pinprick mouths, the nubbin limbs. We'll rise,

Gracile, robust. Mi casa es su casa. Never more sincere.

Seeing us, they'll know exactly what we mean.

Of course, it's ours. If it's anyone's, it's ours.

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But what if, in the clammy soil, her limbs grew warmer, shifted, stirred, kicked off the covering of earth, the drowsing corms, the sly worms, what if her arms reached out to grab the stone, the grooves of her dates under her thumb, and pulled her up? I wish.

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What Orwell’s ’1984′ tells us about today’s world, 70 years after it was published

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In the year 1984, there was self-congratulatory coverage that the dystopia of the novel had not been realized. However, an expert argues that the technologies described in the novel are here and watching us.

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Listen to We Hate Movies on Spotify. Each week the WHM gang force themselves to watch bad movies that were better left forgotten to fuel off-the-wall tangents, inane impressions and unabashed comedic silliness. This is a comedy podcast for movie lovers that can't help but relish pure trash.

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The ‘Barbie’ Deep Dive With Greta Gerwig!

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He took me to Primrose Hill and we watched the sun go down

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no.2

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Scarlett has finally convinced me to join her on this dating app, god help me!

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Writers Roundtable: John Krasinski, Bo Burnham, Tamara Jenkins, Peter Farrelly, Eric Roth | Close Up