Launch events for ‘The Opposite of Swedish Death Cleaning’

It was lovely to celebrate the publication of ‘The Opposite of Swedish Death Cleaning’ on Friday 16th May at Downing Place United Reformed Church. There were people there from various different parts of my life: teaching friends, rowing friends, church members, friends I was at school with, members of the U3A contemporary poetry group I’ve led sessions with, and walking friends, as well as members of my family.

It was a particular honour to have Kate Winter there, the artist who designed the stunning cover for both this poetry collection and my pamphlet, ‘Other Women’s Kitchens’.

The launch was accompanied by a huge batch of chocolate fridge cake, made by my partner Emily to my grandmother’s recipe, which is handwritten in the recipe book that appears in the top left hand corner of the cover.

I have a series of other launch events lined up over the next few months, and would be delighted to see people there. Here are the details:

7.00pm Thursday 29th May: Wave of Nostalgia, Haworth

7.30pm Thursday 19th June: Between the Lines, Great Bardfield

4.00pm Tuesday 1st July: Faculty of Education, University of Cambridge

6.30pm Sunday 5th October: CB1 Poetry, Town & Gown, Cambridge

7.30pm Thursday 16th October: Fen Speak, Centre E Community Hub, Ely

I’m also very open to invitations to read at other events, so do drop me a line via the ‘Contact’ section on this website if you would like to make a booking.

The Opposite of Swedish Death Cleaning

In July 2022, a few months after my Dad had been admitted to a care home, my brother and I embarked on the process of sorting and clearing his house. That first day, I opened the garage door to find a huge mound of boxes, paint pots, rolls of carpet and garden furniture.

Over a tea break, as pure procrastination, I searched online for ‘advice for clearing a family home’, and that’s where I first cam across the concept of ‘Swedish death cleaning’.

Margareta Magnusson’s ‘The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning’ had been an international bestseller just five years previously, but it was only too clear that the concept of döstädning – of de-cluttering one’s own life in late middle age – had completely passed my Dad by.

During those first hours of endlessly ripping and folding every cardboard box that had entered my Dad’s house over the previous twenty years, I fantasised about a woman in Stockholm entering her father’s home to sort his affairs, only to find an almost empty house, full of light and the scent of lemons.

How I envied her! A poem about her began to form in my head.

But it took many months to write, and during that time, as I sorted and cleared my Dad’s house, room by room, my feelings about this imaginary Swedish woman, whose father had scrupulously death-cleaned, completely changed.

And so the poem became completely different from how it had started. I realised that what I was doing was the opposite of Swedish death cleaning: I’m not Swedish, I was the one doing the death-cleaning on behalf of my father, who didn’t even know it was happening, and the whole process felt very far from clean.

But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was difficult, physically and emotionally demanding work, but it was also deeply healing. I wouldn’t have missed those experiences of being reunited with childhood games, cassette recordings of family holidays, and 1970s picnicware for the world. And I felt closer to both my parents – one having died twenty years previously, the other in the depths of dementia – than I had for ages.

‘The Opposite of Swedish Death Cleaning’ became the title for my poetry collection, which is forthcoming from Seren Books in April 2025.