Abbey Woolgar

  • A photo of a shelf which has six vintage photographs in black frames on it.

    Memory Markers

    As a carer for my elderly mother, I thought I’d had a bellyful of old people. However, Bournemouth University’s outreach project Memory Markers revealed to me a world of unexpected creative writing opportunities, inspired by working with elderly people living with memory loss. “It was my mum’s idea,” Dr Brad Gyori, the project’s leader told…

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  • Creative Writing Master’s student receives prestigious Vice-Chancellor’s Prize

    Susan L. Edser completed the MA in Creative Writing and Publishing at BU in 2024 and received the prestigious Vice-Chancellor’s Prize for her academic ability, creative writing, and personal achievements. Susan believed in making the most of all the opportunities on offer to receive the most rounded experience from the course. She honed her writing…

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  • A picture of Sue working with two of the participants. They are all smiling.

    Writing in the Community

    Small faces look towards me as we begin our last writing session of the year. They are all wearing Christmas-themed attire, from the ball-ball antlers headband I brought along to Rudolph’s flashing nose. Ali Sparkes, internationally published children’s author and lead facilitator, has devised a session involving crackers, chocolates, and our favourite writing games. Everyone…

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  • Book cover for Just Another Mum. It has a photo of Abbey and her twin boys.

    Turning chaos into books

    Twenty-odd years ago, when my twins were first diagnosed as being on the autistic spectrum, I began giving presentations to parents just starting their own journeys. Sharing the funny, heartfelt, and chaotic moments of our lives felt so natural that professionals in education, health, and social care soon encouraged me to write a book. What…

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  • The book cover Abysmal Octogenarians. Showing an older lady looking at a fish.

    From Terrified to Thriving: How Heard Word Transformed My Writing

    When I joined Heard Word, I was terrified to read my work aloud. It brought me back to my days at Kimbolton School, where I once had to perform a poem in a grand hall in the Castle—filled with very important people, including a soon-to-be prime minister. Standing there, I was petrified that I’d mess up the timing…

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