A blank sheet of paper.
They say that a blank sheet of paper frightens some people. Pristine and unspoiled, it might be A4 or A5 but it is also boundless and infinite. It has no sense of scale. A single mark on its surface might represent an atom or the…
Before this became firewood, it was the inspiration for a story.
I like recycling. I love upcycling. Making something new out of something old, making one thing out of another. It’s nice. It’s how things should be. Sometimes it’s how things actually are. Originally the firewood in the picture was a tree, a pine that grew...
5 star reviews for ‘Silverback’ by Simon Minchin
Rich, varied, satisfying – bravo! A very impressive collection of short fiction with a lot of cultural references and societal issues at its heart. The stories are well written and make a point without feeling ranty or overcooked. Subjects range through class and climate change...
Writing’s all about hard work and dedication, isn’t it?
‘Are you going to do a dedication for the book?’ asked the big boss, my sensei, William the publisher. I think I ignored the question. ‘Sure you don’t want to do a dedication? You know, just something simple like, “To Felix, my cat, who laughs...
I took some luncheon today with Mr Essex.
We adjourned to a small coffee house near to the centre of town where we discussed our upcoming venture, to wit the publication of a number of stories that I have seen fit to write. I love the Dickensian scratchy-pen, ink-stained-fingers feel about writing, even…
OIOIOO OOI OOOOIII, OOIO OOIOIO IO OOIOIOO OOI OOOIOO?
I spend a huge amount of my time working in the digital space, whatever that means. And I sometimes wonder whether reducing words, concepts and ideas down to a never-ending stream of electronic morse code changes them in any way. You know, in the same...
In a grain of sand.
In the winter, the beach is a painting. A smudged landscape, sea-grey and sky-blue, where charcoal stick figures throw balls for dogs and rubber-black surfers climb foaming peaks. But in the summer, it’s a postcard. A saucy, salacious snapshot of too much flesh exposed to...
Emojis by Edvard.
We are pale and bloodless ghosts trapped inside this infernal machine. Like rats in a cage that we built ourselves, we chase through the maze for no reason. Log on, engage and hang out. We search for meaning in the glow of a screen where...
I’ve been to Spain and I’ve been to Morocco.
I've been to Spain and I've been to Morocco. I've walked from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic and it took me just a few minutes. I've been reminded how strangers can sometimes be friends you haven't met yet, how foreigners are just like us but...
In the beginning…
And on this noisily rainy and wetly windswept day, a few more stories get a final polish and I begin to fill the new website with 'content'. 'Content', eh? Pah! Words, pictures, ideas and a bit of love; that's what I thought I'd fill it...