Libby

6-8 September https://jerichowriters.com/festival-of-writing/

Oh well, it won’t be the same at York without you 🙁

Will you have copies at York? I definitely want it signed!

Thanks, everyone. Bit of a relief, back on track now. It’s the context that makes all the difference. The song is about seeking adventure now, because it’s later than you think. Eg:
Hitchhike down to Mexico,
Drive to Kathmandu,
Better do it now, my friend,
Time catches up with you.

Thanks again, everyone.

Thanks Jane. The previous line, which I’m still working on, is something like:
Go now, go now, don’t hesitate, your only master’s you,
Don’t ever let yourself regret the things you didn’t do.

I think in that context it’s clearer. No?

That’s what I got from it, John, but I did have to think.

Hmm. It was intended to mean if you seek adventure now it will not be necessary to later regret not having done so, but it does seem to imply the opposite.
Good line but in the wrong song!
Jonathan, I sing like a cat with its tail in a mangle, but maybe someone else might want to sing it. My interest is in the music and words.
Thanks, both of you.

Tremendous news and tremendous writing, you Author, you!

Bringing a gun into the house changes it

Baz got the letter on his fourteenth birthday; he was now old enough to get a gun from the government store, so he finished hoeing the weeds among the vegetables and went to get it. His mother wept a little and his sisters picked the peas and looked sombre.

Nothing much changed at first. He kept the gun…[Read more]

Wonderful, wonderful news!

Fabulous. Huge congratulations.

Wow, Kaz. Brilliant news and really deserved!

Well done, congratulations!

Bringing a gun into a house changes it. You can’t help it, of course. The trick is not letting on to everyone else that you’ve changed it. Keeping everything looking exactly the same, so all the neighbours, passersby, any visitors have no idea what you’ve done.

It’s a specific kind of visitor we have in mind. The kind that bulldozes in mob-han…[Read more]

Bringing a gun into a house changes it. I move from hallway to sitting room. Little Kev is trying to hide behind a chair. Bang! I shoot him through it. This isn’t the house where Kev lives anymore. His mum stands on the stairs, screaming. Screams of shock and denial I suppose. Bang! Screamy house one minute, quiet house the next. I step over her b…[Read more]

Bringing a gun into the house changes it; that’s the truth. It’s not as if it was much of a gun, just an old Spanish automatic called a Ruby. Piece of junk, but cheap on the street. I never knew my dad to be scared of anything but he was scared now. Really scared.

Before, when he hit my mother, we cowered in a corner of the kitchen, my sis…[Read more]