National Novel Writing Month 2019 begins today

I’ve got to be quick. Today was day 1 of National Novel Writing Month, better known as nanowrimo, a worldwide campaign/project/incentive to write a total of 50,000 words by the last day of November. That’s 1,667 words EVERY DAY. Bearing in mind I spend eight hours of the day writing for a living and I’mContinue reading “National Novel Writing Month 2019 begins today”

My imaginary dinner party guest #4: Bill Bryson

Previously on ‘My Imaginary Dinner Party’… Margaret Atwood’s arrival successfully diffuses the sexual tension broiling across the table between Leonard Cohen and Lana Del Ray. I’m feeling a little bit grumpy because the pasta bake is well and truly cold. Why did I get it out of the oven so early? We’ve talked a bitContinue reading “My imaginary dinner party guest #4: Bill Bryson”

My imaginary dinner party guest #3: Margaret Atwood

Previously on ‘My Imaginary Dinner Party’… Now there’s a table, a rapidly depleting selection of wines, a tepid pasta bake, a smattering of Pringle crumbs in a bowl, Leonard Cohen, Lana Del Rey, and me. Leonard’s ramped up the story-telling and Lana is sitting with one leg crossed elegantly over the other, hand-rolled cigarette inContinue reading “My imaginary dinner party guest #3: Margaret Atwood”

It’s ‘spooky season’ and this is why we love horror

Humans love to be freaked out. We just love it. Does anything make us happier than a creepy long-haired girl crawling out of a well? I studied gothic fiction in my final year of university and it was the best few months of my entire education. We got to read all the classic horror storiesContinue reading “It’s ‘spooky season’ and this is why we love horror”

Until Five [fiction]

The below is a very, very short story I named ‘Until Five’. I kind of like it in a bleak sort of way and I doubt I’ll ever do anything with it, so that’s why I’m posting it here. Until Five One of my legs feels fuzzy against the other, like a kiwi. I can’tContinue reading “Until Five [fiction]”

Take your work seriously, not yourself

I don’t know why I was so nervous about going to the writer’s workshop last night but I really, really was. It seems that all of life is a succession of scary things we have to make ourselves do. What I find ‘scary’ changes day-to-day and is largely dependent on what mood I’m in. SometimesContinue reading “Take your work seriously, not yourself”

Hipster cafe (fiction)

Another short scene from my story… I’m lying on the faux sheepskin rug naked when Melissa texts me to say she’s finished her business in Jasmin District early. I get dressed and catch the metro to meet her for a coffee.     “The guy’s been spending thousands calling all these numbers on his company phone,”Continue reading “Hipster cafe (fiction)”

Sisterhood (fiction)

I thought I’d post another extract from my story – this time about Ivy and her sister… There were six years between us, but at the creek it never seemed to matter. We existed in a timeless bubble shin-deep in the creek’s shallows, with the moss between our toes. When we got tired of theContinue reading “Sisterhood (fiction)”

The other woman

As predicted, I have scrapped most of the scene about Josh and Ivy that I published last week. This is a new one…  “You’re up early.” I squint over my shoulder at Josh’s slouchy, bare-chested figure in the hallway. His blonde hair – usually so carefully coiffed with his special hair stuff, is completely flatContinue reading “The other woman”

A birthday party with myself (fiction)

This is an extract from a story I’m writing. I’m a bit worried it’s the literary equivalent of a stick drawing, but hopefully you’ll like it for its amateur charm.  A fog horn woke me. Or was it Josh’s bread maker? He thinks it cures his insomnia. There’s something cathartic about pouring in the flourContinue reading “A birthday party with myself (fiction)”