Working on a novel

I wrote a novella first, which was 20,000 words long. You can read the entire thing on my blog. It’s an idea that I want to expand one day. More importantly, it was the idea and the execution that lead me to believe that I was capable of writing something that was long and still…

Stories in Short #21 (Red wine and arterial fluid)

You’re just a blur, a smudge. Something that used to be. Faded wallpaper between cracked plaster. It’s green wallpaper and sometimes I see your face in it. I see your face in everything. When I dream, I dream about your shape, your figure. You are indiscernible. You are just a shape. There’s no definition, I…

The unstoppable decay of hope

“How many young college graduates have taken demanding jobs in high-powered firms, vowing that they will work hard to earn money that will enable them to retire and pursue their real interests when they are thirty-five? But by the time they reach that age, they have large mortgages, children to school, houses in the suburbs…

Budapest

I’m going to Budapest for a week, expect photography and some ramblings I get down in between shivering from cold and being dead drunk. If you leave any comments or feedback I’ll be sure to get back to you when I get back to jolly old England. That’s a lot of backs. Thanks! (There’s plenty…

Rustling of the corn, part 4

I take the last steps two at a time and grab her in a bear hug. She feels so frail. So small. Delicate like the thin graphite of a pencil, or a budding corn stalk. “What’s wrong?” she asks. She asks so normally. I forget where we are. She smells very rich, like double cream,…

RECOGNIZE OR RECOGNISE

Recognize that it doesn’t matter if we spell it recognize or recognise or worship one god or another.   Simple words are often the best in complex times. via the Daily Prompt

Rustling of the corn, part 3

Inside the house the air is very still. The staircase has a worn carpet on the steps. It’s almost like I’ve stepped into a museum. I expect a group of school children to come round the corner, looking bored, and rightly so: the house is empty. The layout is like Grandma’s, but there are no…

ON OVERCOMING WRITER’S BLOCK

“If you hear a voice within you saying, “You are not a painter,” then by all means paint, boy, and that voice will be silenced, but only by working.” – Vincent Van Gogh, in a letter to his Brother, Theo. Van Gogh knew a thing or two about painting. Turns out, his advice is pretty…

Stories in Short #19 (Good old dog)

Derek the hound had the scent. I followed him with a torch through the copse of trees behind the Leary household. Mr. Leary had vanished two days before. Mrs. Leary said her husband had run away with the car and the cash from the safe underneath the bed. We’d found the car the day before.…