Bren

Yes, Squidge – soon as I pressed ‘go’ I thought that myself!

I think some ARE young, Sandra, but what I’ve seen of the Masters, it tends towards a fairly older crowd, often folks who’ve been doing other things in life first.

Sorry I was MIA recently – thanks to all for contributing and it looks as though you’ve all sorted things. Well done, going to look at new comp stuff now

At the risk of sounding ageist, is it not the case that a high(ish) percentage of those doing degrees/Masters are quite young, and are unlikely to yet have the confidence/experience to ignore publishers et al?

I think there is a different approach to writing if you do a degree/Masters in it. It’s almost as though, at the point of graduation, most folk have a perceived idea of what writing should be. Qualifying this because I know a creative writing lecturer, and am in a facebook group for one of the CW courses at a local uni. Some of the stuff I see…[Read more]

Ah, Jonathan, you and I (and Harry) are thinking along the same lines. And yes, there is more. The full blog is here:

https://jerichowriters.com/find-voice-writer/

When I was (a lot) younger I used to snort in contempt when I read in an author’s bio on a book cover, usually American in those days, that they had a degree in creative writing. Hah! I thought, either you got it or you ain’t. You can’t teach it like you can physics or history. It’s not hard and fast stuff like that.

Much later, after discovering…[Read more]

To some extent (not that I’ve done any really full-on writing courses, just SE, some reading and building on experience) I do notice that my very early writing has a freshness of approach that more recent, more self-conscious writing does not.

And I do cheer when I come across writers such as Eimear McBride and Eley Williams (both James Tait…[Read more]

You seem to have set a fire with your idea, Raine: even I’m having a go. Yet more apologies: 408 words.

The Last House

There’s freedom and there’s freedom. Sleeping rough and scavenging for food is freedom, but not the sort that appeals to me. And that’s exactly what I’ll be doing tonight if something doesn’t turn up. Another night’s B&B will…[Read more]

Drink with a dead man – and apologies, 410 words

Innocuous in colour as a Rich Tea biscuit, the envelope was angled so as to fit into the grey metal cell of the Post Restante box. Illuminated by the single bare bulb in the narrow passage between front and rear of the shop, the vertical/horizontal of the letter’s shadow made of it a hitman, w…[Read more]

Apologies…409 words. 😉

By Tilda’s twenty-sixth attempt to produce an illuminorb, Silviu’s patience was wearing thin.

“Concentrate, Tilda,” the Ambakian powermage snapped.

“I am concentrating.” Tilda rubbed her palm against her trouser leg. It felt hot; surely she must’ve been close to pulling the Power down that time?

“Aga…[Read more]

Untitled

The pirogue nudged its way between the cypress stumps, lily pads parting in its path and reuniting in its wake. The only sounds came from the rustle of leaves in the slight breeze and the occasional slap and roil of a feeding bass. It was late afternoon; a low sun dappled the brown surface of the bayou and the shadows pointed like…[Read more]

The Memory Thing

I think it was reproach: that look on his face; or maybe despair. I only had a second to work it out as he fell backwards onto the tracks. That’s an odd way to put it. I mean, I wasn’t actually trying to work anything out, let alone his expression. And I was shocked; I hardly registered what happened. This man, this young man…[Read more]

Fabulous piece, Raine.

Well done, Raine!

Interesting point there, Raine, about reinforcing society’s assumptions because, obviously, Rubenhold was trying to do exactly the opposite. Bit of a misfire, that.

Agreed, John, that it’s an appalling attitude. The book sets out to do a job that was well worth doing. I just wish she’d done it in a less fanatical and dishonest way.