This year, I try to hold you tight, cradle you softly but steadily. I don't want to let you fall. You came to me first, in 1914. Crammed in. Pushed. Bent, broken. I tried to make room for you. Sad souls. Tired, wasted and wasting. When you finally fell, under the heat, I took you… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #13: Those Lost To The Earth.
Its October... that means spooky times. A few months ago I started a blog series/project called 'Speaking Above The Torch'. Now, I'm sending out this to ask for a favour: have a spooky/weird/uncanny/generally odd story? It can either be something that happened to you directly or it can be your aunts ghost story she tells… Continue reading Send me your spooks: Speaking Above The Torch.
This week I thought I'd talk a little bit about that other thing I kind of do but am a little terrible at keeping up: writing a novel. Just recently Patrick Ness - one of my favourite writers - tweeted (you should 100% follow him) saying that he never writes more that 1500 words a… Continue reading (A Late) Writing On Wednesdays #9: An Attempted Novelist.
From a short distance it looked like an installation. Someones forgotten works, from long ago, a hollow frontage, a canvas for some kids to tell a story on. The windows, once openings to gaze through, were filled in, replacements, clumsy and childlike were scrawled over the boards. Some had plants on the windowsill, another had… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #7
From the one you throw stones at when I sit on your garden wall. Hi from the street. This is my kingdom. The trash laden back alleys, full of forgotten toys, thrown away by children who got something better last year for Christmas. Once I might have had a home, a vague memory of somewhere,… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #2
The voice of a story be it first person, an omniscient third person narrator, a third person focalised narrator (where the narrator is separate but not necessarily as distant as your standard omniscient voice) is often overlooked, going unnoticed; like a transparent filter we read through but are unaware of. I remember the first time… Continue reading ‘Look at this tangle of thorns’: Narrative Voice and Deception.