Zoë Scholtz

When you manage to convince your photographer to take a selfie with you Looking for my look Do you have any idea what the appropriate attire for an 'author' photo shoot would be? No, neither did I, which is why, on the morning of my session I was rushing around like a headless chicken, searching for my best author outfit.   ' Why didn't you do this last night? I asked myself, as I rummaged through the contents of my closet. I was hunting for my favourite jeans, which had pulled a very unwelcome disappearing stunt on me.  I hated packing at the best of times, probably as a result of living as a nomad due to traveling between home and boarding school and then later on, home and varsity res. I never could decide what to take along, and usually included way more than necessary - because, well, you know... you never know what you might  need. The chaos that was our bedroom looked alarmingly similar to when I was getting ready to go away on extended vacati...

Meeting my hairstylist match  Six years ago I had sat in the exact same hair salon, although this time my reasons for being there were (thankfully) much different. In 2015 I'd been having a serious meltdown.  'Why?' You may ask.  Well, some three months after being discharged from hospital, my long blonde hair (at the time reaching well below my shoulder blades) had had enough of all the gunk that had been pumped into my body to try and save my life and so it rebelled and started to fall out - b adly! According to my mom, I was bald for rather a long time as a small child. When my hair eventually started to grow, mom kept on cutting it to encourage my strands to proliferate. As a combined outcome from mom's brave (but wise) intervention and probably also genetics, I wound up with a lot of hair as an adult. To be losing most of it was upsetting to say the least, and I came to dread brushing it, since each time I'd transfer more and more strands from my head to the ha...

I grudgingly hauled myself out of bed. At the best of times I could never be described as a 'morning person'. I rubbed my eyes, and tried to force myself to wake up. How some people managed to hop out of bed full of energy and ready for the day was beyond my comprehension. I. Need. Coffee. It was September, allegedly spring had arrived, but the weather had turned cold and icy.  There was an unpleasant chill in the air, and so I pulled on my gown and pushed my feet into my worn grey slippers. I padded downstairs, my slippers echoing their customary ‘sloof-sloof-sloof’, alerting His Highness the Cat that there was life in the house. Wasting no time, he took up his usual position at the glass door that lead to the garden. ‘You can wait’, I informed him, ignoring his silent demand to open the door. Instead, I made a beeline for the coffee machine. Our current brewing device was a rather intimidating silver monster. It took up most of the space on the white-grey gran...

When I started out on my running journey, I had no appreciation for the important role of running shoes. In fact, I ran a fair distance in my already old and worn out gym trainers, before I realised that perhaps I needed to buy proper ones. I was surprised to learn that this was not the same process as buying my next set of flip-flops. Apparently I needed to visit a specialised store to be fitted for the correct pair. I was puzzled, it seemed an inordinate amount of hassle over what was, after all, ‘just a shoe’. I would learn the hard way that there were very good reasons for all the fuss. Even though I didn’t see why it was necessary, I did my homework, found the nearest store and presented myself for my feet to be assessed. I felt awkward and out of place as I stood in the shop, I had no idea where to start. Fortunately the salesperson promptly came to my rescue and hauled out various options for me to try. He made me jog up and down outside the store and eventually conclud...

'Never judge a book by its cover...' (English idiom), I can't recall how many times I've heard this. Except...  I   do. There I said it, I absolutely judge a book by its cover, in particular when its   my  book!  The next phase of my writing adventure started out well enough, I emailed the final draft of my manuscript off to the publishing team, attended the introductory meeting, and then thought (hoped?) I could sit back and wait for the finished product to arrive. Ha! How wrong I was, I came to realise that my hard work had only just started! The writing aspect,  pffft  that was a walk in the park compared to this next phase. Strike one  I have always maintained that sometimes it's better to not know what I am getting myself into, and rather just take whatever process I am in as it comes. This was a prime example of such a situation, and only served to reinforce my belief. I started to appreciate the requirement for active involvement when I rec...

Early in January 2020, it was a weekday, a day like any other. I was at the office minding my own business, working away at a spreadsheet. My phone vibrated, signaling incoming email. I glanced at it, but since I didn’t recognise the sender (Renate from  The Writing Room , something about not mucking about …?) I assumed it was spam and ignored the mail. When I finally got around to checking the many notifications on my phone later that afternoon, I realised that the email seemed to require my attention: Apparently, my mom had signed me up for a book writing mentorship and I had to complete and submit forms. Wait… What? Incredulously I started at the screen, rereading the email whilst I wondered what on earth my Mom was plotting this time around. There had to be some mistake. Writing a book was something that proper authors did, not a task to be tackled by a bean counter with a full-time job. There was no way that I had the talent or the time to spend on such a gargantuan projec...