I missed updating last week, though I’m sure you’ll forgive me. I’ve been participating in National Novel Writing Month, which hasn’t been “national” since about 2001 but the name is catchier this way.   It is now Week Two, and NaNoWriMo veterans will recognise Week Two as The Week Everything Goes to Shit. Writing becomes […]

  GOD LEADS US THROUGH DARK TUNNELS in purple flickering neon (as if it isn’t sure;) And I swear I’ve never seen a damn thing look so lonely (But maybe it’s just the misery talking.) stuck upon some haunted aluminium poles somewhere between Lost and Nowhere, waiting for devils that aren’t real to rise up […]

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If you’re a follower of my noteboook porn tumblr, Fuck Yeah Notebooks, you’ll know that recently I’ve been discovered Notebook Youtube. Against my better judgement, I’ve been drawn into the world of Planning. I swear to you I’ve resisted. I have! But they got me in the end. I happened to me, dear reader, it […]

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So, it’s October. NaNoWriMo is on the horizon once again, and young women’s fancies turn to thoughts of character, setting, and (dare I say it) plot. This year, I’d like to write something set in Kent in the 1930s, give or take. The main character, 30s, a writer, lives by the sea, smokes too much, […]

  Another 2a.m.   She glares at the green glow of the clock as if it has insulted her personally. She has been in bed for three hours and feels like she has never been so exhausted as in this moment. It bears down on her and she screws up her face as if to […]

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It rained.   He paused to flick his cigarette away and looked over at the swings and slide. Rain was flowing down the latter in a river, ripples chasing ripples down a sheet of steel grey as the sky.   He felt as if the place should prick some memory, but no playground of his […]

A documentary I watched last night on the Highway of Tears, British Columbia, had me thinking of a new story – and an old one that I’ve a mind to post here. Written for a friend and inspiration, after asking twitter for a prompt. I’m afraid I’ve renamed it since then. ~ * ~ * […]

Mervyn Peake is a dark god in a bizarre world of whimsy and melancholy. Gormenghast speaks of freedom, passion, and living, yet it is an examination of madness, of horror, of tragedy. And what does it say of tragedy? That it is meaningless, random. Therein lies its horror. That same meaninglessness infuses the traditions and […]

This is a poem I had written a while ago, based on a prompt that runs “a 45 year old music critic falls for a 17 year old piano player hailed as a prodigy”. I can’t remember where the prompt was from, possibly Writer’s Book of Days by Judy Reeves. I didn’t like it so […]