A picture of a to do list notepad

“I’m a big fan” she said and the other looming Zooming face nodded in agreement. The discussion of to-do-list habits turned out to be the highlight of the meeting. The alpha female face lit-up as she shared how she did it. “I write everything down and then I put things on there that i’ve already done— just so I can cross them off!” Hers was a to-do-list of achievement not just organisation.

At the moment a lot of my lists involve bread, milk, tomato ketchup and chocolate biscuits. A thing to use so I don’t forget. A substitute for actually…


It’s always ominous when someone asks if they can pass on your phone number. Nothing good ever comes of it. It won’t be anyone you know well, otherwise they’d already have it. Either someone wants something, time, money, perhaps a kidney or you’ve done something wrong.

Annoyingly I found myself saying, “of course”. Which meant I spent the rest of the morning waiting for, “the call”. When it came at 3pm I wimped out anyway and hid behind the voicemail. The text message that followed just said something cryptic about a, “car issue”.

My mind raced with all the possible…


Want to hear something eerie? An AI Frank Sinatra song, seriously. Turns out if you feed a lot of Frank into a computer and press a few buttons it can “create” a new track. But just because it’s possible doesn’t mean you should.

It’s technically perfect and it sounds like him, sort of. Except it doesn’t where it matters. It’s just a bit “off” but you can’t quite put your finger on why. Turns out the sum of all those gigabytes isn’t Frank Sinatra, however much they claim to be.

Truth is, for now, the human element, the pause…


Dragged myself out of bed for a half-hearted 7.00 am run. The new kitten wasn’t impressed. Did a mediocre job (with swearing) of putting right some ukulele woodwork I’d been slaving over for months. Picked a poorly daughter up early from school. Felt grumpy and cross (are they the same thing?). Drank coffee. Ate a Tunnocks wafer and gave daughter one too with a hot Ribena and paracetamol on the side. Had a best friend hair cut. Cruised to the tip and then the supermarket (for a change).

Having no money impacted the shopping trip. Essential items only. And yet…


So apparently we like a list. Particularly an ordered one that’s numbered. An awful lot of blog posts feature them. Some of my recommended medium reads today included 5, 7, 10 and 39 in their titles. Things like (ok I’m making these up) 10 ways to earn 10 figures, 7 books that will change your life etc etc…

It’s partly because it’s a recognised fact in marketing circles that numbers work. The algorithm bits and bots discovered that including numbers in a title improved the hit rate. Do a quick google on numbers and blog writing and prepare to be…


It can creep up on you, the transition from creating to consuming. It’s much easier to reach for your phone when you have a spare moment than pretty much anything else … and we like easy.

Until one day you realise you’re a scroller not a writer, a watcher not a doer. My Pinterest is stuffed full of great doing ideas but I’m ashamed to say the cocktails remain unmade, I haven’t re-designed the garden and the Christmas gifts this year will be decidedly shop-bought.

It’s all too easy to kid yourself that phone time is productive. YouTube can be…


Arguably creativity is the most important skill to have in the 21st Century, with numerous business leaders and surveys championing it as the saviour of pretty much everything! No doubt it’s a valuable commodity and as a copywriter it’s pretty essential, but how do you harness it effectively? How do you make sure the big, fat, juicy creativity worm doesn’t wriggle off the hook?

1) Fill the page and filter later

Just Do it. Get started, do whatever you need to do to get away from the blank page. One of the reasons artists flood a canvas with a wash of colour is to evoke a mood…


It happened in the forlorn relic of the local department store. Amongst the suitcases, summer sandals and questionable handbags lurked an eyrie presence. I turned the corner on my quest to buy a frying pan from the second floor and stumbled across it. An escalator that wasn’t moving.

I placed a foot on the first step and then the second. The jolt was simultaneously physical and mental. How could a stationary escalator, in reality just a set of groovy steps do that? I walked down and up again and the same thing happened.

It turned out that decades of escalator…

Susie Chillcott

Playing with words, connecting ideas. .

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