If people truly can outlive their physical lives through their writing then thank goodness for Mike’s writing. It’s really the only way I knew him, having only met him a handful of times but having talked extensively over Facebook chat. Continue reading “Things Mike said”
The poem, distanced, courses through the blood Continue reading “Word-baiting”
The ensemble cast of three open and close The Boy Who Cried Wolf with the ‘clickety click’ of their knitting needles, and the story gradually weaves itself into being, framed by these little poetic and visual moments. Continue reading “The Boy Who Cried Wolf: theatre review”
“There’s one thing you must tell him – let him explore.” Josephine Peach’s advice to me for my 7 year old son, about to start his first piano lessons. Continue reading “Review of Ripon Cathedral’s lunchtime concerts: Josephine Peach”
Those who spotted the poem that has since disappeared may have questions. Let me cut you off at the pass – I didn’t lose the courage of my convictions, of course…! Continue reading “Questionable poetry”
Attentive followers will have seen that I previously had two websites, a personal blog using my name, and a professional blog talking about my freelancing. Continue reading “Writing and existing”
An open letter to James Rhodes, pianist (in reply to his article).
James, on the off-chance you do read this (since I’m going to tweet you a link to it!) I don’t know you at all, of course, and please forgive my direct way of addressing you here – it just feels more comfortable, and easy, and inspiring to write straightforwardly in the second person rather than making an abstract response into the void – but it’s more a response to ideas I read between your lines rather than any specific commentary on your own life or experiences.
The more I talk and think about actually, concretely starting to write creatively, the more it feels that I’m being dragged over a precipice. The more I feel the need to write, the more preoccupied by it I become and the more difficult it becomes not to start. Continue reading “Plotting”
I’m going to stop being afraid of writing.
Neil Gaiman, Rainer Maria Rilke and Gustav Holst are the specific heavyweight inspirations for this burst of courage. But explaining the initial reticence which has silenced me for more than a few months is a complicated one and comes down to several wildly different things in my personal life. Continue reading “Writing”
