Fiona

Some years into my writing journey I began making a list of writers who, as I read them, immediately sent me  to my current wip, recognising the breed of magic, of tone,  I needed to add to mine. (no idea where that list has gone) I’m not at all analytical, so fail miserably at the ‘read like a writer’ exercises, but was mildly shocked, on r…[Read more]

Turning of the Wheel

In a yellow rectangle, in the black façade of a house, a woman is laying a table. Not the sort set for the serving of meat, but one that would see her more trussed and seared than any spit hog.

Candles set: North. South. East. West.
Salt cast for purification.

Gaia had fasted for this night of the blood moon, its m…[Read more]

Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not attacking him. I think it’s great that he doesn’t measure his success the way that some singer/songwriters do. And I do like his songs. He’s also a pretty accomplished guitarist. He seems to have been very successful indeed in other areas he’s chosen to work, pursuing a big career in Radio as a senior producer…[Read more]

Sunshine and Shadow (219 words inc. title)

In a yellow rectangle, in the black façade of a house, a woman is laying a table. Her movements are deft and economical…

Wait.

That’s not right.

For a start, that rectangle isn’t yellow; it’s liquid gold. Or maybe it’s a garden of primroses in spring. No. It’s even more than that. It’s mo…[Read more]

How have I missed out on Pete Atkin? Been going to folk festivals for years, and just having heard snippets of him on Youtube, I thought I’d have had recommendations before now, if not seen him in person! I might have to look up some of the gigs you mentioned.

I have had a good listen. I have a feeling he’s somebody to hear live. Perhaps we’ll meet up at his next gig – if he has one.

I give up on books that boast complexity of prose above character or hook to read on, which makes me lean more towards plain text. However I am a sucker for a clever turn of phrase or a descriptive which reads like a painting.

I used to wonder if my plainer style showed a weakness, and would never read it out during workshops, after others with…[Read more]

Thank you for this treat of a blog, Richard, which addressed my total ignorance of chanson. I’ve long preferred lyrics which say something (hence my liking for Arab Strap and The Floating Men, discovered via my youngest son.) I’m thinking I can repay him with Pete Atkin.

She seems pretty English to me – although her mother is French and her father’s Maltese. But yes, it’s the French connection that hooked me on Renaud.

I don’t know, but put the speculation aside. Pete Atkin has a smooth confident voice and he holds a note very well. And that’s true right from the first album to the last. The songs hold your…[Read more]

The only writer who I enjoy and where I can see similarities in style with my own, is Kurt Vonnegut. That’s not to say we write in similar ways. Vonnegut was a master of prose and I’m not drawing a comparison. However, he made an effort to keep his writing plain and clear and advised others to do the same. Certainly there are subtleties in…[Read more]

Fabulous blog, Richard. Chanson is so little known outside of France. People think they know it because they’ve heard a recording of Non, je ne regrette rien or maybe they know that Seasons in the Sun is a translation (sort of) of a Jacques Brel number. It’s hugely popular in France. Travel to any town and go out and about on market-day. Every…[Read more]

Perhaps I should make it clear this is just one line intended as a prompt to build a story on, from a collection of poetical, random lines, in a pocketbook entitled ‘Distance and Proximity’.

Wow, Libby, and thank you, a big surprise, especially as I’d already identified winners 1,2 and 3 and, my laptop having died and been taken away, and only having my ancient, over-full and steaming one, I wasn’t checking as often as I have been. I’ll try and come up with something as interestingly challenging as the last few have been.

The formatting isn’t great – sorry.

<p style=”text-align: center;”><b>Behind Closed Curtains</b></p>
‘Jimmy look, that rude electrician is back!’ Marjorie adjusted her glasses and squinted towards the bungalow. ‘And he’s wearing that t-shirt again, you know, the orange one with large red letters saying Bog Off You Nosy Neighbour!’ She poked her tongue out in the general direction of…[Read more]

Brutal

Graham was beside himself. Furious, speechless, incandescent with rage. They had demolished the ancient well in his garden, thrown the centuries old stonework down inside, and constructed a former which showed their intention to pour footings a full twenty metres from where the summerhouse should be. He leaned forward and peered down. All…[Read more]