He remembers blindly following the expected path. She remembers his hand over her mouth. He remembers too many parties to remember. She remembers fear. He remembers being the man most likely to. She remembers laughter, it still echoes deep inside.… More
The woman at the hospital reception asks if I’ve brought anyone with me. I shake my head, and she consults her computer. ‘But how will you get home?’ she asks, but she’s nice so I tell her I’ve got my car and I’m planning to drive home myself.… More
“The entire project of making this book (oddly enough I find it difficult to refer to the making as writing, in this case) has been a process of finding out what I could say, how I could say it, how I felt about saying it.” Clare Best
How to write our own truth is a question most writers will ask themselves at some time or another.… More
The toy was found twenty years later, behind the wardrobe. She washed it, smiling as she remembered the tears and tantrums when it was first lost. Hanging it to dry, she anticipated his face when finally reunited with Bobsy. ‘Rabbit,’ he said that evening.… More
I’m just back a week writing at Gladstone’s Library – a library with bedrooms. Bliss. Here are some photographs of the general gorgeousness…
We’re falling apart and there’s no-one left to put us back together. We just let things drop where they will. My finger on the stairs, your leg in the bathroom. We hold each other so gently, secretly measuring what’s left. Soon we’ll just be lips kissing our love to oblivion.… More
Last Sunday, I got invited to something wonderful. I’d heard about the village here in Kent that had got together at Christmas and read Paradise Lost out loud to each other, and a friend and I were inspired – we would do the same!… More
I had to post something about Alice Duer Miller today – this is republished from an article that first appeared in Vulpes Libris.
An appreciation of Alice Duer Miller
Article by Sarah Salway
Father, what is a legislature?
A representative body elected by the people of the state.
Amazing the number of people who want to be writers. Or will be, anyway, once they have a bit of time. I imagine it’s almost the same number as want to run a pub or cafe. Although I could never understand that one.… More
Here’s a little invitation to come to sit at my table and join my weekly writing group for a session – without leaving your computer. I thought I might share what I do in the two hours I run the group and perhaps you’ll want to join in with us all….… More
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