Every so often when I’m writing I come across something which, when I look at it again, I realise “Oh! I wouldn’t have thought that a few years ago!” It’s not just age/maturity/extra life experience which causes these moments for me, it’s also where I live, how we live, and sometimes more exactly who else lives here… Our little village
No, not the party game. I’ve been thinking this week about consequences of choices we make. I’m still trying to figure out a coherent way of expressing these thoughts, but hey, I’m a story teller, so I figure I’ll use borrow some tools from fiction-writing. First, the inciting incident: My Grandad died last week. Context: He was 89, but his
First, some news: Under Leaden Skies was a finalist in the Rainbow Awards! (Category Gay – Historical) w00t! Yay, etc. Many thanks to Manifold Press for entering it (they enter all their books – one of the many reasons I chose to work with them), and to all the judges who volunteered their time to read, score & comment on
Been a bit of a weird week for me. One of my friends from work died unexpectedly (but thankfully not violently) last weekend. I found out from Facebook around 5am on Monday morning (hadn’t been able to sleep, so resorted to checking the internet). Needless to say, none of us at day-job have been feeling particularly 100% this week, and
I had to prune a few branches out of the Christmas tree, in order to make space for baubles to hang from rather than just sit on branches. “You could make a wreath for the front door from them,” husband suggested. So I asked Google how to do this, and every post I read said to start with a pre-made