There is a cliché — a rather romanticised cliché — of the solitary writer. The writer, alone, tortured, struggling, poor, …
Playing around with a style thing here. I’ve done this a couple of times — working exclusively with dialogue, to both demand …
Y Glaw (The Rain) – Fiction. Originally submitted for The Alpine Fellowship 2017 Writing Prize, where it made the final shortlist of eighteen (out of 600+ entries). That pleased me. I like this story. I was thinking of developing it into a short novel, but, for now, it stands as it is.
A bit of my fiction. From the work in progress The true life story of no one of note. . . .
A bit of my fiction. From the work in progress short story collection Eight, Nine, Ten. . . .
A bit of my fiction collection. From the work in progress: So this is how it ends. . . .
‘Social media’, as they say, is an interesting thing. A fascinating communication tool. I am certain there are very studious …
There is a saying, I think, that you can never go home again. I’m quite possibly bastardising that terribly, but surely it makes sense.
I think my eighth year is when I became cynical.
If I’m honest – and honesty is part of the game here – I would have to admit that I don’t recall much about the reality of the day-to-day.
At some point you must talk about the bits that came together over time and throughout history to create this being.