the architects of these christmas lawn discos and vulgar vegas style light shows should be stripping down their housefronts and putting their displays away
It’s so very hot and the fat man in the red suit is still wearing a woolly suit, a woollier fur lined hat, a giant beard and a pair of wellies. Or in the case of the one I saw in the shopping centre last week, it’s steel toe capped paramilitary boots. See for me, […]Read more "Santa’s boots"
Is there ever a time for a writer when words are not necessary? Is it possible for a writer to keep their fingers closed, their pen hands silent? Aye, there is. Angela Slatter is an astonishing storyteller. She has a talent for drawing out the darkly twisted nature of her stories with such exquisite grace […]Read more "no words necessary"
I am up to my armpits in a redraft. I’m not very tall so it’s probably not that deep to you. But for me. It’s deep and dark and thick. Somedays it smells like a fiesta on the nostrils and others, well, it smells like what it is. Today the reek of shite has been […]Read more "Smell the Redraft"