Saturday, 10 October 2026

The Real Thing: People Get Typecast

We’re all looking for ‘the thing’. We spend our lives looking for the thing that is going to fulfill us, make us happy. Sometimes that’s an item, sometimes it’s a passion, a career or a dream, and sometimes it’s another person. People aren’t one thing, but as in the movies there is pressure on a person to conform to either an established look, personality or what their peers want them to look like, act, do. Same with a career or having kids – some people get told we want you to be a doctor and we want you to have the standard two kids, a house and a car. We all have an identity and we shouldn’t feel boxed in, oppressed or prevented from living that identity. And if we are blocked from being who we are then we should feel outraged. Of course, I’m not saying an axe murderer should go out and be an axe murderer cos that would be insane.


TO BOLDLY GO WHERE YOU WANT TO


Let’s take Spock. I read an interview with Leonard Nimoy once. I had watched him in a pre-Star Trek film, which was pretty gritty and character-driven. He said he loved playing Spock, but as soon as he took that part and got famous in it, he wasn’t offered other roles. It was a bitter-sweet success. The same thing happened to William Shatner. And Hollywood wasn’t ready for a relationship between a black woman and a white man it seemed cos the potential of one between Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Nyota Uhura wasn’t explored – the chemistry was there on screen – something I read about in an interview with her. People get typecast when they actually want to evolve, break boundaries and be bold.

In music, take the bands Silverchair or Cyclefly. Their first albums were rock/metal, but their second albums are more experimental. But some fans wanted them to stay the same. Then I think of Radiohead who kept changing their music and kept their fans, but there are some who wanted them to stick to the sound of Creep – the hit that everyone connects with cos it’s about feeling vulnerable and feeling unworthy and how we all feel that at one time. And it doesn’t matter how many shows they play or how long they perform for, everyone will still want to hear Creep. And I wonder if they ever get fed up of playing it?

But, yeah, people get typecast.

Some bands who sign up to a festival can’t play other gigs for months around that event. Some actors/actresses who sign up for a film franchise aren’t allowed to play other roles. Some actors/actresses are put in romcoms and then people want them to stay there and not explore other roles in different genres or with an 18 rating. Some writers just write in one genre cos it’s what their audience wants while others don’t – so long as they have the creative freedom either way it’s cool. If they’re being typecast it isn’t.

I just thought of two actresses who were in romcoms and PG-rated films who then did a film in which they are naked. After that, their roles seemed to dry up. It was almost like someone said, hey, you’re not being the person we want you to be or the person we are used to being when everyone wants to grow, experiment, etc. This also makes me think of seeing the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I saw them maybe three times back in the day, and each time they were playing their songs differently. I was thinking are they drunk, have they forgotten how to play this? And then I realised, nope, they’re mixing it up, they’re experimenting, they’re doing bits slightly different. I wondered why and thought maybe it’s so it stays fresh to them and not the same thing. Mixing it up.

There’s a flipside to this. Remakes – we want the original most of the time with the original players. We want the real thing we fell in love with, not a copy. Unless the remake is different. Otherwise we think why do the same thing exactly the same? Which brings me on to cover bands, but that to me is different. Don’t know why really, but it is. That’s just my opinion.

NORMAL? LOL. DON'T CRITICISE

I would describe myself as an alternative person. I always thought to be called normal was boring. People should embrace their quirkiness and weirdness, and be themselves, and then they attract people who are like them. I used to post about this a lot on my FB timeline, lots of positive stuff about being yourself and embracing your own differences and not feeling forced to conform. That’s partly because I had so many people in my life criticise me – what I wore, how I spoke (not loud enough or my accent was weird), the fact I wore DM boots all year round (and not sandals), my body, my skin, my hair style, dyeing my hair, my walk (lol!), my dancing, my writing, my poetry, my artwork, my cooking, my taste in music, my taste in men, my shyness or my loudness, and even how I made a cup of tea – just about everything!

WRITING AND THE ODE TO ORIGINAL

Turning to writing… when I tried to find an agent or publisher for my books I got rejected. I got rejected by everyone except a small-press publisher in about 2011/12 (not sure of date) and I was with them for a while, but they were in the US and I’m a layout sub-editor, so it was awkward timewise around a full-time job, and in the end I went it alone. My books were selling well until 2015 and then collapsed. I still write, but not much fiction (long story) and they don’t sell now. But getting back to the point… I found it hard to find representation – and was refused by everyone – because my books don’t stick to one genre.

I wrote a book about a magical cat and it’s fantasy, and it explores inclusion: the lead character is a black woman and there is a three-legged character, and various nationalities are represented, and there are fantastical and human characters. The genres in the series are: fantasy, realism, magical realism, history, time travel, etc.

I wrote a romcom, but the main character is a talking dog, so I was told to present again when I wrote a straight romance. I wrote a zombie book, but parts of it are set in an alternate dream world. It was originally zombies/aliens, but a friend advised me to stick to one genre, so I rewrote a quarter of it. I wrote another romance, but it’s also a fantasy, has an alternate reality and is magic realism. I kept being told to stick to one genre or that I was just not good enough. I kept on writing cos I love it.

So, yeah, it’s not just people that get typecast.

THE RIGHT TO TRAVEL AND FULFIL YOUR DREAMS

I think travel is the great educator – everyone needs to explore, and have the freedom to do so – whether that’s the world, art, music, sex, or whatever. I believe in human, civil and sexual rights. I believe in equality. I believe every person should be allowed to play sport, dress how they like, wear makeup, dye their hair, grow their hair long, date whoever they like, study, travel, be anonymous, be free, work, dream, have children or not have children and live without being judged.

Everyone has dreams. Everyone is born equal in theory, but just as Orwell pointed out, some people are viewed as “more equal than others” in many countries, societies and religions. And this is something we should fight because it is still happening. He also talks about peer pressure – don’t judge or follow when you know it doesn’t feel right. You have the right to refuse and to say no. I think we don’t say no enough. In 2026. Everyone should have equal rights. And things need to change now or we’ll be having the same problem in 2050. Break the chains.

So yeah, people get typecast.

People aren’t one thing. They like all sorts of things. And this changes. You might like the colour red one day and you might like the colour green the next. Your viewpoints also change, according to your age, experiences and who you encounter, and just your mood. You might not be scared of a certain type of person, but if you experience hatred from them that might change your view forever. In life you will discover you were right about some things and wrong about others. And you have the right to change your mind. Everyone else does. That’s your prerogative as a human being.

No one is perfect. But, yeah, some people expect you to be.

DO YOU NEED TO KNOW YOUR OWN GENRE?

And now I’m gonna talk about music again cos it makes the world go round. The music scene is made up of different genres. Ask anyone who is into any type of music and they’ll be able to break it down into lots of smaller genres and know what bands/singers belong in it. It’s a bit like literature. That’s how you know who is real – they know their music inside out. They know all the different genres. And sometimes people dress the same as others into that type of music so they recognise their tribe and other people recognise them as fitting in, and this gives everyone a sense of belonging.

Some people don’t conform and dress differently because they want to. They don’t want to get typecast. If you love something you don’t really need to know all the nitty gritty. You just feel it.
I’ve been on so many scenes and like so much music that I didn’t think I’d get typecast… and yet I did. At work some people took the mick out of my metal T-shirts and didn’t take me seriously. One person thought I was a satanist! I was like actually I’m not, but if I was then what is the big deal?

CRITICISED FOR READING TAROT

I crossed the road last month and some guy shouted out that anyone who reads Tarot is an abomination. That’s me done then! The other day I walked past someone in the street who was talking about God and they offered me a leaflet, which I didn’t want. They wanted to know why I am an atheist and I do not believe in God because they said God sees everything. They thought Tarot cards were Satanic. I explained I do not believe in God because I don’t believe in gods, I believe in science. I don’t believe in religion because it is man-made and most religions have oppressed women, homosexuals, lesbians and trans people at some point, and some still do.

I explained that I believe in science, the earth, the stars and the moon, and karma. I’m not Pagan as that involves gods. I’m not a Satanist either. I go with the light. My beliefs align with Shamanism and Native American beliefs. The closest man-made religion would be Buddhist, but that involves gods, so it is not my belief. So I align with Shamanism. I believe everything is connected, all people, and that everything has a spirit, including animals (I had an argument with an older Christian bloke once who said animals don’t have spirits so it is okay to eat them).

I remember having to go to RE classes at school, but I didn’t want to, as I was an atheist, but I had no choice. We were being typecast at school. We’re all different with different beliefs. A religion should not rule our life. All religions are invented by men.

ARE YOU WHAT YOU WEAR?

Back to identity… In 2024 I was called a “dirty goth” in the street. It made me laugh cos I was wearing jeans and a fake leather jacket (it’s vegan so no animals were injured in the making of this look!), and I wasn’t dressed remotely goth. I’m not a goth and never have been. I loved the film Edward Scissorhands and always had a major crush on Mr Depp, and I also fell in love with Winona in this film – the chemistry between them showing they were an item in real life – but I wasn’t into the Wednesday series, but I love Beetlejuice. I love Siouxie and Sisters of Mercy, but I don’t love everything goth. I’m not into the darker stuff of the goth markets, taxidermy and stuff like that. I’m more into Hello Kitty! and cute things. I don’t like every Johnny Depp film, but if he turns up at my door dressed as Captain Jack as pissed as a fart I’m taking him dancing.

I’m more into zombie films than Vampire films. I like fruit bats and snakes. I used to love horror films when I was younger, but I’m not so into them now. I prefer something that makes me laugh. We all change. When I write I need silence whereas the awesome Stephen King can dream up a zillion plots and characters to loud AC/DC. We’re not into every single thing in a specific category. We pick and choose. And we don’t do things in the same way. How can we? We’re not AI.

I dress alternative or metal, I guess, but my wardrobe is limited now as I’ve been living out of a suitcase since October 2023. Today I’m wearing a Snoopy T-shirt and blue jeans and trainers. I miss my big wardrobe! In the past I often went out in a denim or patch pink mini-skirt, big red or black DM boots and a little vest, which sometimes had a band name on and sometimes didn’t, or a T-shirt. And I dressed like that on the indie, grunge, rock and metal scenes (and at work and outside) from my mid-20s until about October 2023, since when I’m mainly in jeans and T-shirts and vests, depending on the weather. At the moment I’m wearing my Motorhead jacket a lot, but it’s denim, and I’m soon gonna have to switch to the fake leather cos it’s cold. I’ve also been wearing trainers lately cos they are lighter and due to injuries to my legs since January 2025. So, yeah, I don’t dress remotely goth!

So, yeah, people get typecast. The person yelling at me clearly had no idea what a goth is. They made the wrong judgement call.

HIPPIE CHICK

In my 20s and 30s I used to dye my hair brown or red, and it was long, and I had a hippie rock style always. And minimum makeup. I had acne so I had to wear foundation to look okay – I never rated my looks cos I had acne. All the other girls had perfect skin, I thought, but I was never jealous of other women. It just isn’t in my makeup. If anyone was jealous of me I would laugh and think how is that possible when I’ve got so many physical flaws?

So yeah, there was me in my pink skirt, looking probably more like Barbie than a rocker or metaller – I was out headbanging and dancing to Iron Maiden or Slayer or dancing to Nirvana and Therapy! and Abba and Public Enemy and Jimi Hendrix and Madonna, and everything in between. Sometimes I headbang to other stuff, like Nothing Compares to You. I mix it up. Because at the end of the day, dancing is meant to be fun and a way of expressing how you are feeling. You feel it in your feet when standing in a queue (I’m thinking of a famous male stripper movie here) or when you walk past a shop blaring an old tune you remember, and it’s hard not to feel it.

But, yeah, people get typecast. Wear whatever the hell you want. You’ll feel good in it cos you chose it.

DON'T LET ANYONE TYPECAST YOU

I dated a guy once who was into metal, and I’d turn up with my red hair, purple knitted hoodie, purple striped tights and mini-skirt and red DMs, and he’d say, “What are you wearing? You look like shit?” I guess that was a red signal, but I’d laugh and call him rude boy. I thought he dressed quite boring, but I had the hots for him, so yeah, I didn’t always make the right choices. And no matter how many times he criticised what I was wearing I didn’t change. Sometimes I’d tell him a story from my past and he’d tell me to “skip to the end” and he’d get really funny if I danced with another guy (once I danced with an ex and he was outraged), so I guess those were red flags. But I never changed myself to fit the typecast that he wanted me to be – I still hung out with this particular ex, dressed the same, danced the same (he criticised my dancing), etc, etc.

If someone doesn’t like you how you are then you are with the wrong person. Don’t let them typecast you. There is this pressure to be like everyone else. But we’re all different, so why should we conform?

MUSIC MAKES MY WORLD GO ROUND


What music do I like? Okay, so… pop music, Motown, reggae, ragga, dub, indie, grunge, blues, rock, metal (classic, heavy, death, speed, some black, stoner, doom, new, crossover), hip hop, some rap, some dance, some punk (not totally stripped down), drums, rare groove, soul, jazz, boogie, country, some industrial, some goth like 80s and goth metal. I hate EBM, and I don’t like much dance music or trance or electronic stuff. I like the Prodigy, but their sound is unique. I think of them as dance/punk. They might kill me for that, but still… Anyway, whatever I’m listening to I need a real drum kit. The drum is the backbone of the band and it’s the instrument I wish I’d learned. I almost did several times.

Anyway, back to typecasting…

A TRIBUTE TO THE BEST SONGS IN THE WORLD

I was thinking about the stuff I’ve been into since I was a kid a lot while living with my dad in 2024 cos I went to a reggae festival and I thought I haven’t done this in ages cos a lot of my friends and most recent ex only liked metal or rock. And I love cover bands, but my recent ex didn’t like them. At times the musicians are as good or nearly as good as the real thing, so what’s not to like? And the musicians put in so much effort to sound like their heroes and heroines, and practice to be perfect, or they add their own twist/interpretation to it. And it’s all a tribute to the best songs in the world… and we dance all night recognising and singing to all those songs we know. And people go out and buy those songs – the money not going to the cover band but the real thing.

At one point I couldn’t listen to Enter Sandman anymore cos every single cover band I saw played it, along with Highway to Hell, but it just shows how loved those songs are. So I guess they are two of the best songs in the world if everyone is covering them.

In the world of literature, copying someone's work is plagiarism and wrong, so it's completely different to the music and film worlds. I hope I've never been plagiarised cos writing a novel is hard work!

What’s my favourite song in the world? All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix, a song written by Bob Dylan, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature. And that was an interesting choice cos people argued that he’s not a writer, he doesn’t fit the mould, he doesn’t fit the description. He’s not fitting the box. But he won cos he is a writer. And he’s brilliant. He’s a poet. Songs are poems after all. So, my favourite song is a cover. Horrah! But Jimi’s version is completely different to Bob’s and I fell in love with that song in the opening bar cos it’s so unique. And I fell in love with Jimi the first time I heard Joe. I hadn’t even seen him on TV at that point. That’s the power of music. We know what we like. We feel it in our hearts, not our heads. And you can’t typecast that. It’s real.

HOLLYWOOD: WHO DECIDES HOW PEOPLE SHOULD LOOK?

I look at Hollywood sometimes and you see people who have had plastic surgery. I’m like that’s fine. I don’t have a problem with that. No one likes everything about themselves. And it also saves lives, especially following accidents and illnesses, and helps people feel themselves again. But, in Hollywood, you often see a nose job. Some people have big noses. I like big noses. They give faces character. Everyone’s face is different. Everyone is beautiful. So, I wondered who was it high up in Hollywood who had decided what the perfect nose is? Is there a perfect nose? And I wondered what their nose looked like, and if there was a pressure on every actor and actress to have a certain type of nose and a certain type of profile to look a certain way on film? I’ve aged over the past year, and my face shape has changed, and you have to get used to it, and anyway I wondered about it. Is this yet another type of typecasting – that actors and actresses even have to have a specific look/face?

So, yeah, people get typecast.

AGE IS JUST A NUMBER: ACT YOUR SHOE SIZE IF YOU WANT

I went for a drink with a guy recently and he pointed out a flaw on my neck. He didn’t say any compliments whatsoever, but he pointed out a flaw. He also said I looked younger when I smile, which is actually a criticism or a barbed comment as it’s saying I’m old. I also had a guy call me jealous when I told him to stick with the girl he was with rather than coming on to me while she was in the same room (she also seemed interested in another guy, but that’s off-topic).

I went to Paris this year and a guy made a move on me, but he also made a lot of references about my age – asking how old I was and making comments about my age and my looks without asking anything about my interests or dreams – just my looks as if that is all I am. And he wasn’t happy that I wasn’t interested, so I left. And this happened at a hostel recently when I checked in – the guy asked me how old I was and made endless comments about how I look. I once was a victim of domestic violence because I didn’t look or act how the man wanted me to be. To him, I was not beautiful to him, but he wouldn’t let me go. He wanted to control me instead.

Message: women are more than their looks. And we don’t want to be typecast.

This reminded me of school and university. At high school, I got bullied for two years by girls in my class because I had severed acne, was shy and “ugly” to them. I had one friend. Doing my A-levels, I got criticised for how I dressed and my accent. At university, surprisingly, there was a group of women who were really into their looks and judgemental about other women’s looks. You had to be perfect in their eyes or you couldn’t be friends with them. That was strange to me. I encountered a lot of lookist people. There was me thinking there’s more to life than that.

And I met people who judged you on the brands you were wearing – if you were cool or not. So yeah, people looked at certain things to see if you fitted their tribe, but that was all about appearance. I didn’t drink alcohol until I was about 24, so before that if I met big drinkers they thought I was a bit weird for not drinking. And I had views on alcohol, not wanting to lose control, so I was sober all through university, and that was me being judgemental – I changed my mind later when I discovered Woodpecker Cider.

At Uni, I often wore a long T-shirt and leggings and trainers, or I wore little dresses and little skirts, T-shirts, vests and big baggy trousers. I was out on the indie, rare groove, soul, reggae and hip-hop scenes. It was always friendly and everyone danced all night. And people dressed in different styles, and lots of colour, but I had one friend who judged trainers – it always made me laugh. If my hair looked crap I’d go out in a baseball hat. I remember my dad asking me why I dressed like a boy! That was how I wanted to dress.

But anyway… people get typecast.

PRIDE!

This makes me think of Pride! Enjoy being you. That’s the great thing about Pride. Some people say you shouldn’t be proud, but humble, and that being proud about anything is a bad thing, or our parents tell us that pride comes before a fall. But it is good to be proud – to be proud of yourself, who you are, what you have achieved, and to be proud of other people and to tell them how great they are and congratulate them. It is not a fault or a flaw. It does not mean that you are arrogant. Pride is a festival that reminds everyone we are all human beings, and we can be ourselves. It’s okay. In fact, it’s more than okay.

But, yeah, people get told they can’t be themselves or there is something wrong with them. People get typecast. And it’s wrong.

I like all types of music, but in the past I got comments that I’m a fake metaller because I don’t just like metal or I didn’t have the right T-shirt or know the current line-up and leg measurements of the band. I was wearing jeans and trainers and a vest to see a goth band last year, and that’s how it should be. You should be allowed to wear anything and be accepted.

This makes me think of a trans friend who I bumped into in a metal bar, and we were all dancing, and she was wearing a bright pink dress, and I thought she looked cool. And it was great to see her. But I heard two guys make some derogatory comments I didn’t like. She didn’t care. I don’t know if she heard them, but she just carried on having fun. We also went for a drink another time in a non-metal bar and a guy made even worse comments, and I was thinking if she wants to say something I’ve got her back and I’m going to say something, but she just ignored the rude guy. That was how she dealt with it. I wanted to tell him what I thought, but I went by what she did. She should be able to go anywhere wearing that pink dress and dance and not be judged or ridiculed. I don’t have the balls to wear a dress that skimpy and I was like wow, go for it. I was proud of her. I knew her before she transitioned. The day she spoke to me and showed me a photo of how she looked when I knew her as a he, I felt nothing but pride for her. I was so happy that she felt so happy, because she finally felt in the right body. Big love to her.

So, yeah, people get typecast.

SOPHIE, A HEROINE

Most people know about the Sophie Foundation. Sophie was a goth who was murdered when she was just 18. Some youths jumped her boyfriend in a park and kicked him on the ground until he was unconscious. She stepped in to protect him. She died. He lived. It was a completely unprovoked attack. The murderers did it because of the way the couple were dressed simply because they looked different to them. This is now a hate crime, thanks to campaigning by Sophie’s mum, who has sadly passed away now. Sophie died due to someone’s prejudice. And she is a heroine because she saved someone else’s life. She gave her life to save someone else. She didn’t have to. She just did it.

If people stopped judging people, and just let them dress how they want to and be themselves, and give them their full human and civil rights, the world would be a much easier place to live in. And this is taught in school now. It’s called inclusion. But inclusion isn’t about having to conform to a specific image or way of life either.

Everyone is a human being. Everyone should be allowed to express themselves. Everyone should be allowed to defend themselves. Everyone should be allowed to follow their dream. Everyone should be free.

So, yeah, people get typecast. Some people want power. Some people want to shape other people. Some people want to put other people in a box. This is solely for the reason of control, so they can control their look and behaviour. And that is always going to be wrong. It isn’t natural.

And we don’t do things in the same way. How can we? We’re not AI.

Be yourself. Everyone else is taken. We’re all different and like different things. And that’s a tribute to us. People can try to copy us, but we’re all the real thing. Each one of us is unique.

That’s my view anyway.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 10, 2026

Wednesday, 16 September 2026

A Poem a Day (752): Whore (#metoo)

This is a poem I wrote about misogyny on 15 September 2019. I did a search on this blog, but can't find it, so here goes. Just as relevant now as then. #metoo


Whore
 
He’s a whore.
He’s a slut.
He’s a tart.
What a skank.
 
What is he wearing?
That skirt is too short.
 
He’s too old to wear that.
He’s too ugly to wear that.
 
Ha ha ha!
 
His boobs are too big.
He’s as flat as a pancake.
 
His butt looks huge in that.
He has no butt.
 
He’s celibate.
He’s fucking the world.
 
Ha ha ha!
 
He’s not interested in me
so he must be gay.
He needs taken down a peg or two.
 
He’s slept with 10 women,
20, 30, 40, 50, I’ve lost count.
He’s got a graveyard of exes.
 
He’s so popular.
He’s so unpopular.
He’s got no balls.
He’s got too many balls.
 
Ha ha ha!
 
Look what he’s wearing.
He asked for it,
he’s wearing a thong,
So it isn’t rape.
He’s a whore.
He’s a skank.
 
Ha ha ha!
 
What’s so funny?
It isn’t funny.
 
And, of course, no one speaks
about guys this way.


Copyright Vickie Johnstone, 15 September 2019

 


A Poem a Day (751): Information technology

I wrote this poem on October 9, 2020 – an old one and I thought it was published on here, but I can't find it, so... about revenge porn.


Information technology
 
The guy isn’t going to hit pause
while he hides his face away,
 
shoots daggers from off-stage,
reads stories to the crowd,
 
rewords history in his way,
adjusts the TV to his visor,
 
listens, takes, reveals and scores.
A patchwork quilt of your life.
 
You’re the “bitch” in his eyes,
so you’ve gotta keep on paying.
 
Your data is his to pass on
with no recoil to the injury.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 9, 2020
 
 
Revenge Porn is the sharing of explicit or sexual images or videos without the consent of the person in the image. This crime has become more common since 2015. It can affect men and women, and even children. Anyone aged under 16 is still a child.
Safeline is able to support victims of revenge porn. Its helpline advisors and counsellors are experienced in dealing with such cases, and can offer support and advice. If you or someone you know has been affected by revenge porn, and are considering reporting your case under the Sexual Offences Act 2003, speak to Safeline for confidential advice.
https://www.safeline.org.uk/revenge-porn-what-it-means-for-the-victim-and-the-offender/
 
 


Friday, 11 September 2026

A Poem a Day: remembering 9/11

In remembrance of all those caught up in 9/11. Those who were there, those who tried to save others, those at home, those watching. This is a poem I wrote in 2021. It's inspired by the photograph we've all seen of the man falling. A picture that strikes everyone dumb because there are no words. 


Feathers 
 
Feathers turn on the air,
burrow in the upflift
fluttering, these precious things,
the barest feel of touch
spinning. A white glow.
Breezes take them skyward
as if to connect with the stars,
breathe as high as the moon.
Scant traces of being
blown away and now lost.
Not feathers but people
falling.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 11, 2021

Monday, 7 September 2026

A Poem a Day (750): Rethread

I wrote this sitting in a pub with a neverending fuel of coffee. Just about to post it and a couple come and sit in front of me and start snogging, even though most of the tables in the room are empty. I guess it's a romantic pub then! Anyway, I wrote a poem on notepad cos I can't afford to renew my Word licence at the moment and I can't find where it has saved, so I am posting the screengrabs I made of it!!! Funny trying to focus with two people snogging on your eye level, but here goes... 

The poem is called Rethread...





 

Friday, 7 August 2026

JustGiving Page - asking for help so I don't lose my belongings and things of my parents. Cheers

JUSTGIVING PAGE - https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/vickie-johnstone


I'm sleeping rough at the moment cos I can't get a job. I have £10 until September and today it's August 6. I need to raise money. I am also now in debt to 2 companies that have made demands.

No one offered me a place to stay, so I sleep on the pavement or benches. I was doing hostels when I had money (some mates lent me some). My parents are dead and I have been single since May 2023. My dad died in June 2024 and I just got back to London in March 2025.
I will donate some of the money to Shelter if I receive a lot over the target. I have supported homeless causes, including Centrepoint, a lot since my 20s.

I have spent 47 nights outside so far. I contacted 4 councils, but they can't help. I'm childless.

The photo is of me in my sleeping bag outside.

Big thanks to the drop-in centres and volunteers who give me food. My savings ran out on May 18.

I've worked my entire life in London since I was at Uni. And I have always been independent and paid my own way. I've also lived my entire life in London except for about 3.5 years.

I've done fundraising in the past for charities, including a sponsored writing gig, and I have 2 books and 2 records that raise money for charities. But now I have to do something for myself. My parents are both dead and I've been single since May 2023. And I haven't found a pot of gold at the bottom of a garden.

Don't know what else to do with 2 companies trying to take money from me that I don't owe them when my bank account is empty, and I've told them I'm homeless and jobless (one has handed over to a debt collection agency and the other is sending demands even though I sent a phone back and they owe me money) and I'm in danger of losing my belongings and those of my parents if I can't pay a bill (I've managed to pay it this month - I thought it had failed), and I can't afford £10 for a new Oystercard that the machine just blew up, so...

I went through my inheritance from my dad (he died in June 2024 after being on end-of-life care and I had the priviledge of helping him for 6 months) running away from a harassment and stalking team that has been on my back for 10 years. I've also been refused hostel places because of this fact. I've also been told I'm imagining it, but you can't imagine being physically assaulted. I've had items stolen from storage, my homes, hotels and in the street. And I can't replace what has gone missing.

I haven't had any post since July 2025. Now I can't make or take calls on my phone.

All this has been a bit stressful, but I'm still going... you have the odd bad day when you want to scream and jump in the ocean, but I think every single homeless person in the country feels like that on some days - especially when they are hounded by companies (who were happy to take your money for decades when you were solvent).


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Wednesday, 5 August 2026

Free to read: Song Book of lyrics to 37 songs recorded with Billy Johnstone

Here's a Song Book of 37 songs. I wrote the lyrics and my uncle, Billy Johnstone, wrote the melodies, added some lyrics and sang on them! It was an accidental partnership that started in lockdown and turned into one of my most prolific periods for poetry and song writing - I'd never tried song writing before. The actual songs can be bought online - see the links in the book.

This is free to read. 

My faves are The Joker, Bird in the Brain, The Dark Wood, She blows in with the Tide, Cold Cardboard Sky and Sea of Broken Glass... And Billy's singing is just amazing. There are links to his videos.

Cold Cardboard Sky is a charity song, raising money for Shelter.
The Cage is a charity song, raising money for Animals Asia

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1My9VtLeWved40Hi5zGWIYrTWZqxT5Uuc/view?usp=drive_link

Tuesday, 14 July 2026

A Poem a Day (749): You on repeat

 
You on repeat
 
You were supposed to turn up on time.
You were meant to end each line with a rhyme.
 
You were fated to turn tomorrow upside down.
You were meant to greet each day without a frown.
 
You shifted the energy when you walked in a room.
You swept up the dark with the back of a broom.
 
You were the one to joke and wear glitter.
You were the one who trained to get fitter.
 
You were the one the other kids looked up to.
You were the only one the older kids knew.
 
You were always telling the tallest stories.
You were the answer to everyone’s worries.
 
You got older, drove too fast, lived a little too wild.
You never wore a sword, never needed a shield.
 
You forgot the names of your fans you met.
You met me, but my face was one you’d forget.
 
You were the artist, the writer, the talker.
You were the beginning, the end, the Faulkner.
 
You acted in this lifetime like you were out of tune.
You’d already lived nine lives before the strike of noon.
 
You enjoyed it all too much to protect your own hide.
You forgot to click your belt for that daring last ride.
 
You held the globe in your hand for an endless time.
You didn’t know the world would make you pay a fine.
 
You held up a mirror for others to discern their flaw.
You noticed not everyone liked what they saw.
 
You were meant to leave quietly, unnoticed.
You weren’t meant to leave a note that grimaced.
 
You were the one everyone wanted to be.
You weren’t meant to be the one that couldn’t see.
 
You lost your way trying to find how everything gels.
You forgot you can’t save yourself and everyone else.
 
Vickie Johnstone, July 14, 2026


A Poem a Day (748): I on repeat

 
I on repeat
 
I spend a lifetime searching for the imperfect perfect muse.
I treasure everything as if each something I’m fated to lose.
 
I consume as if this could be my final meal.
I am oblivious to the agenda behind any deal.
 
I sleep as if sleeping is an Olympic sport.
I pay all the bills, secure my space in my living fort.
 
I read with a microscope digging for inspiration.
I walk in fine rain feeling a washed-in elation.
 
I turn up early as if it will make a difference.
I cry at every ending and then hope to bounce.
 
I read menus a dozen times before choosing.
I hold on too long because I’m too scared of losing.
 
I worry I might regret choosing the wrong thing.
I greet everyone with the same shy, lopsided grin.
 
I end up picking the same thing every time I order.
I live in uncluttered spaces, try not to be a hoarder.
 
I pluck stray hairs as if anyone notices anything so small.
I live it, love it, want it to last forever, but forget it all.
 
I collect empty boxes because oxygen is the most precious thing.
I buy simple things, avoiding the loud, too glossy and bling.
 
I breathe deeply, inhale slowly, blink three times for luck.
I wish I could relive every earthmoving, heartbreaking f-ck.
 
I sit in the shade in case the sun burns away truth.
I rethink, re-evaluate seeking the undeniable proof.
 
I colour outside the edges to feel more free.
I wonder at our struggle to be what we want to be.
 
I count the stars just because it’s impossible.
I know my failure to make time last is laughable.
 
I rule the 3mm space around my own contours.
I learn from closure and look out for held-open doors.
 
I bed down to keep the chaos and noise at bay.
I listen to silence because it has the most to say.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 14, 2026


Thursday, 9 July 2026

Read Tirips Shade, my supernatural detective novel, for free here

My Victorian detective novel with a supernatural and steampunk edge, Tirips Shade, is free to read here - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mxugIivOPyKdjq4rp4ejeKhzuReWVLpt/view?usp=drive_link


Victorian London’s finest detective, Tirips Shade, 33, hunts a serial killer while investigating his own murder, assisted by his closest friend, Harold Walker.

Whether alive or in spirit, Victorian London is a thrilling but dangerous place for everyone.

With a serial killer on the loose, Sarah Ann Bartley, who runs a safehouse for former prostitutes and fights for women’s rights, asks Tirips to help stop the man before more women are murdered.

Tomas Malachide, the owner of the steam-powered Museum of Machinations, finds himself the toast of the city, but the real passion of his life is his fiancé, Elsa, a flower seller.

In the spirit world, a young boy finds himself alone on the city streets, but he just might find a friend in a streetwise girl. Cynical Willie Lynch is given the job of guide for the newly dead, while an older guide, Angelina, has her own sad secrets.

Who is the mysterious Abraham Askew whom nearly every spirit seems to fear and what other perils loiter in Victorian London’s graveyards?

I started writing it on a writing course in 2016, where we spent a lot of time on the opening page and paragraph one. Lots of rewrites!

REVIEWS


By Keithtj on April 26, 2023


"Ms Johnson has a wonderful way of describing situations and times, indeed she paints with words. Managing to evoke images and the atmosphere of the time. The characters are believable to the point you care what happens to them, and the story line is suitably gripping and nicely twisted, catching you out, just when you think you have worked it who the baddie is. A thoroughly wonderful and entertaining read more of Tirips and his world please!"


By Ed Drury on April 8, 2023 

"I've followed Vickie Johnson's books since I stumbled on the Kiwi books. I've watched her effortlessly shift between genres and styles, but she's kept me a loyal reader the entire time, primarily because of her excellent storytelling and fascinating characters. This book reaffirmed my confidence in her to deliver a compelling story with beautiful characters. With this one, I think she has all the ingredients for another successful series of books, and I will undoubtedly read them all. I would recommend it to readers of young adults, paranormal, and cozy mysteries without reservation. It does have some edgy scenes, but it is, in my opinion, done within the context of the story and not the least bit gratuitous."