I never considered myself a big fan of young adult books, or YA as they are better known. I confess to have read Harry Potter (well, the first three volumes, then I gave up) and I did enjoy it, but I thought of it more like a book that was written for the children inside all of us. 

A fellow writer and inspiring poet, Gwyneth Box, has asked me to join in 'The Next Big Thing' - an internet project where authors from different countries, different ways of life and different writing backgrounds answer the same ten questions about a work in progress.

Gwyneth discusses her upcoming book of poetry, Around the corner from Hope Street - please take a few moments to read her blog - here

I'll start with a disclosure: I don't do poetry. Or so I thought, until I learned that Aracelis Girmay, an acclaimed American poet, was coming to Geneva to give a workshop at the Geneva Press Club. As I love going to GWG (Geneva Writers' Group) meetings, I thought to myself - why not, I'll give it a go.

The workshop was fantastic, and to my great surprise, a prose poem came straight onto the paper without any effort. I didn't take it too seriously, which helped, so when Aracelis asked us to write something about an object we are NOT, this is what I came up with.

Words are a writer's building blocks, just like pieces of wood for a carpenter and flour and sugar for a baker. So why waste them?

This is not supposed to be a way to justify the rare updates of my blogs, or my recent reluctance to Twit, Link In and Face(book). It is just that I suddenly feel inundated by words.

It is the first day of the second month of the New Year, and temperatures in the Geneva area have dropped well into negative numbers. On days like this, I am grateful that I don't have to spend the day outside... although I have much admiration for those who do!

Sitting by the burning logs in the fireplace, I can contemplate on why this kind of weather brings thoughts of faraway places, of never-ending snow planes and brave men and women who have settled them in the past.