Woolleybeans

Yes, Kurt Vonnegut never hid behind ‘fancy’ writing. He’s a fabulous role model. Amongst contemporary writers, I would love Ali Smith’s way with words, and maybe Philip Pullman’s scope (mine is more like a microscope by comparison). I love the lightness and silly references in Philip Reeve’s children’s books. A lot of my favourite authors write…[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]

Oh wow! That brings back memories. I heard Pete Atkin (without Clive James) at a soaking wet Bristol Folk Festival sometime in the early 70s, and again in Cardiff Student Union. And I loved his music. I had a Clive James/Pete Atkin LP from that time, but it is one of the many that I sold when I moved to a single room in Scotland in 1980.

As for…[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]

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]

The Mausoleum

… The star broke down as wife Stephanie’s casket was taken into the mausoleum. The stone masterpiece, testament to their love, could have been fashioned by Wren …’

Justin Mallory’s architect had also been proud of the secret panel to facilitate re-entry: stone-clad, freed by hidden lock and latch. Justin pocketed the key. He swiped…[Read more]

Hi Janette – as discussed, it’s gone. Feel free to post again when ready.

Ath.

What is this? I turn my back for TWO days and I’m inundated!! ????

Please bear with me. Worked a fifteen hour shift today (with the same tomorrow). I promise to come back with a winner by Monday at the absolute latest x

Car

Look at that bloke. Arm out of the window, cigarette in hand. Marks and Sparks polo shirt that his wife bought him. Revving the engine every five seconds; counting down the time until death. And he got the silver car, the GT model. He chose that. He calls it “my car”. But if anybody asks, “We chose it. Me and my lady.”

How old do you reckon?…[Read more]

Hand Signals

Molly matched the testy huff coming from the seat to her left, though neither were on account of the tailback as school runs jostled with motorway traffic on the approach to the roundabout. ‘For God’s sake, Jake. You’ll appreciate one day why I put school first, holidays with your father second.’

She ignored his mouthed words;…[Read more]