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In: Human Nature, Reading, Uncategorized

They sit to the side almost, left out in the sorting of literature, where poetry goes with poetry and novels with novels. The short story, the tale, while highly recognisable and democratic in the spoken form, is treated with uncertainty once it is written down. It is neither this nor that. It’s not verse. It’s prose, but it doesn’t take the reader as far. We don’t learn all there is to know about a character. We don’t watch a world gradually unfold. Not often anyway. Writer, John Cheever, says it this way: “A collection of short stories appears like a lemon in the current fictionRead More →

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In: On the Road, Uncategorized

I have no doubt getting out and about clears the stale ideas and makes way for new ones.  Travel is such a tonic, don’t you think?  Particularly for writers.  It’s not only about different places, it’s about different rhythms.  My days are not going to plan.  Things happen that cure me of excessive planning.  Not only do I not get my cup of coffee at ten o’clock as I am accustomed, I have not managed this once since my journey began.  Not once, and while this would throw me into a rage at home, I’m not much bothered.  Strangely, it doesn’t stop me in myRead More →

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In: Uncategorized

I’ve been thinking about this a lot.  Mostly I think about it in terms of characters.  To breathe life into a complete invention, there needs to be a back story,  if only in the author’s head.  It’s a reverse engineering of sorts.  We go backwards to justify the present.  We see the parts to justify the whole.  But what of real people?  What would we be…who would we be, if we didn’t live where we do, have the families we have, have made the decisions we have made or been required to do the things we have done?  Who would we be? Writers play with theseRead More →

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In: The Making of Numb, Uncategorized

It’s a marathon this novel writing thing, even if it can resemble a hysterical dash and a collapse over the finish line.  What is the writer equivalent of lactic acid build-up I wonder?   My brain is just as fried, my arse is numb and my shoulders are frozen so now I look like a person who shrugs….And all is the result of my groping and spewing and cajoling myself toward ‘THE END’. Sometimes it feels like I don’t care anymore, particularly when I’m so very close to finishing the first draft.  I want it over now, so I can amputate it and move on.  If truth be told,Read More →

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  Taking notice, being attentive, bearing witness, practicing mindfulness.  What is this hocus-pocus?  Being present is hard.  We have not trained for it, or else we did as children and then forgot it all when we became practiced in presuming.  I am thinking that to live a mindful life is what a writer must do even if their job is to create fantastic or futuristic worlds. I am thinking the creation of worlds may be a transformative process, which begins in this realm and grows beyond it.  Our imaginary worlds may echo with today.  These echoes could be the bridge or portal through which the reader steps and so weRead More →