A Pot Noodle of his story repeated

THE WRITER’S LIFE There are few sounds more terrifying than someone trying your front door, but hearing keys in the lock is one of them. Lately I’ve been scrambling blindly for the keys to life, and put one in the lock to see if the door might open onto the string theory which contains my…Read more A Pot Noodle of his story repeated

Anxiety and despair in 3 words

POETRY A 45 RPM I wrote, which spins for about 14 seconds. It’s about stumbling back into life in Tonbridge after ten years in London, and all that’s meant over the last five years. I made it black and orange, as a kind of reflection of a one-way train ticket. Off the rails and onto…Read more Anxiety and despair in 3 words

Pass the kutchie to the liberal left

THE WRITER’S LIFE The Musical Youth song actually asked us to ‘Pass the kutchie on the left hand side.’ It was a cover of a song originally by The Mighty Diamonds, and quite why ‘Dutchie’ was substituted is anyone’s guess, as it means nothing, whereas ‘kutchie’ is a doobie, a spliff, a reefer. Last night…Read more Pass the kutchie to the liberal left

Teaching the world in harmony

FICTION I originally wrote this as a short story, straight after the original Cyrus Song, and it later became chapter two of the novel. After Simon Fry meets the microscopic pan-galactic humanoid missionaries, and the more scientific Captain Mamba and his animal passengers. In this second story, Simon discovers more of what the Babel fish…Read more Teaching the world in harmony

Guardian angels, in the skin

THE WRITER’S LIFE There’s much in my real life which I’d like to write about, but which for various reasons I can’t. There are stories developing which could end well or otherwise, and there are others with endings very much open. There are concerns for the health of at least one relative, and many other…Read more Guardian angels, in the skin

The existential and identity crises of a suspect Starseed

DEAR DIARY The more you embrace and engage with a thing, the more it will talk back to you, consolidating you as a component in something greater. We are all made of stars, and as I’ve become more connected with the universe around me, I feel more accepted, not so much by people (I don’t…Read more The existential and identity crises of a suspect Starseed

Missing persons outside my comfort zones

THE WRITER’S LIFE | DEAR DIARY This story begins with me sitting on a bench, much like I did in my homeless days, when I wrote many of the stories in my anthology. But I wasn’t homeless this time, just out of my comfort zone, away from home and on my way to see my…Read more Missing persons outside my comfort zones

Smoking reefers with ghosts

DEAR DIARY | THE WRITER’S LIFE Last night, I sat up talking to a dead person. It would be a good opening line for a story, but it’s fact. I don’t know if my friend heard me, but I like to think she did. I may be branded a loony (I’m pretty much medically diagnosed…Read more Smoking reefers with ghosts

This life, version 2.0

THE WRITER’S LIFE There are a lot of amazing feelings which come from publishing a book, just as there are in writing one. Obviously the writer has complete freedom if they are like me: Working mainly for myself and only in my own styles when I’m hired for freelance work. But I’ve written plenty about…Read more This life, version 2.0

The Choristers at dusk (The cyrus choir)

THE WRITER’S LIFE | FICTION Image: X over it A couple of months ago, a few strange things happened at around the same time: I found myself batting fruit flies away from my screen as summer finally happened and I tried to write a story; There was a girl on my mind; And I was…Read more The Choristers at dusk (The cyrus choir)