University is nearly over. A couple of nights ago I danced to noughties hits at Grad Ball, and in less than a week I find out my degree results. It probably means more t me than it should - but for so long now, as with many academic overachievers, my worth has been defined to an extent by my achievement in school, then university. What to do when the structures of formal education are stripped away? When I dare to peek beyond the finish line to the next lap, all I see is mist. Exciting, intriguing, mysterious, terrifying mist.
I do have a fervently shining light on the horizon, however. Last week, I prolonged my visit home to Wales for an interview with Gladstone's Library, a haven tucked in the little town of Hawarden - which I've always considered the posh part of our county. Gladstone's is the UK's only residential library, and it looks like a slightly smaller version of Hogwarts' library... many of the books are at least a couple of hundred years old, and the library itself was first built at the turn of the twentieth century. Gladstone himself brought about 33,000 of his private collection over to the nascent library - in a wheelbarrow! Especially impressive for a man in his eighties.
So, from November, I will be living and working in what seems like the perfect space for a historian and writer. I've read and heard stories about the residents gathering around a roaring fire in the Gladstone room (almost a double of the Gryffindor common room, bear with the Potter theme here!) and sharing ideas and anecdotes over gin. How much of a fairytale does that sound? If I haven't written my debut novel by then, I will certainly do it in the beautifully eerie setting of the library.
The interview process involved staying overnight, in a room to myself up several flights of twisting stairs and winding corridors, with a view out over the woods and church bells tolling the hour. With two other applicants I met the current interns, had dinner in the cafeteria, went for drinks over the road and tagged along on the lock-up shift - which I can tell is going to be more than creepy when it's my turn to do it in the winter. The next morning, after a shockingly poor night's sleep (poor, overworking brain - and hard pillows), the interview outfit I was so proud of turned out to be misguided. The summery, off-white and floral dress received plenty of compliments, but my brand new nude Clarks heels, while looking fantastic, clacked embarrassingly on the wooden floors of the silent library as we carried out a trial shift. Tiptoeing round a deathly quiet library to slip books back on the shelves while in mid-heels is no mean feat. I noticed too late that the current interns, and the other hopefuls, were all wearing flats. Bugger. Despite my clattering faux pas, the interview sailed by, even with a delay thanks to ITV filming on the grounds for Coast and Country. I tried sneaking into shot, but had to back away at the wary looks on the production team's faces...
Now, as I wait for the big results day to roll around, I'm writing, and searching for temp jobs to keep me busy, and earn some money, until November. Almost ready to launch into the big bad world of real work!
I do have a fervently shining light on the horizon, however. Last week, I prolonged my visit home to Wales for an interview with Gladstone's Library, a haven tucked in the little town of Hawarden - which I've always considered the posh part of our county. Gladstone's is the UK's only residential library, and it looks like a slightly smaller version of Hogwarts' library... many of the books are at least a couple of hundred years old, and the library itself was first built at the turn of the twentieth century. Gladstone himself brought about 33,000 of his private collection over to the nascent library - in a wheelbarrow! Especially impressive for a man in his eighties.
So, from November, I will be living and working in what seems like the perfect space for a historian and writer. I've read and heard stories about the residents gathering around a roaring fire in the Gladstone room (almost a double of the Gryffindor common room, bear with the Potter theme here!) and sharing ideas and anecdotes over gin. How much of a fairytale does that sound? If I haven't written my debut novel by then, I will certainly do it in the beautifully eerie setting of the library.
The interview process involved staying overnight, in a room to myself up several flights of twisting stairs and winding corridors, with a view out over the woods and church bells tolling the hour. With two other applicants I met the current interns, had dinner in the cafeteria, went for drinks over the road and tagged along on the lock-up shift - which I can tell is going to be more than creepy when it's my turn to do it in the winter. The next morning, after a shockingly poor night's sleep (poor, overworking brain - and hard pillows), the interview outfit I was so proud of turned out to be misguided. The summery, off-white and floral dress received plenty of compliments, but my brand new nude Clarks heels, while looking fantastic, clacked embarrassingly on the wooden floors of the silent library as we carried out a trial shift. Tiptoeing round a deathly quiet library to slip books back on the shelves while in mid-heels is no mean feat. I noticed too late that the current interns, and the other hopefuls, were all wearing flats. Bugger. Despite my clattering faux pas, the interview sailed by, even with a delay thanks to ITV filming on the grounds for Coast and Country. I tried sneaking into shot, but had to back away at the wary looks on the production team's faces...
Now, as I wait for the big results day to roll around, I'm writing, and searching for temp jobs to keep me busy, and earn some money, until November. Almost ready to launch into the big bad world of real work!
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