Just A Moment…

Just a moment, that was what has occurred. I was writing the concluding chapters to my book, The Story of Eve, when I stopped to change direction. I have been finishing this novel off for the past four months and it has been causing frustration and concern at every juncture. It has not been an... Continue Reading →

The Other Side of Madness…

"You know," a friend confessed, "my writing was much better when I was suffering." We were talking about breakdowns. The terrible journey we had taken from the staright path of normality. Some years back, we had both hit our walls. We were both in professions that indicated our public spirit and quests to improve things.... Continue Reading →

An Eve Tit-Bit…

Surprises. The boy was a surprise; he really was. My last recollection of him was as I was falling and he was falling too, but on top of me. My exhaustion had burnt a hole through my resistance and he was about to take advantage. His hot body, stinking of sweat, reeking of something else... Continue Reading →

Three Days of the Condor

Robert Redford One of my favourite films of all time. Obviously not 'all time' as they have only been making movies for less than a century and a quarter, but time enough. Its central premise is that a 'CIA book-reader' (yes he gets paid for reading books so as to uncover plots being hatched around... Continue Reading →

Writing about character…

I thought I would share these two extracts that were written many years apart. My character, Liam Flowers has changed and grown. He still carries the scars of his previous incarnation. Older and wiser, he cannot escape his narrative arc. From The Piper Book of Hearts Liam Since he had moved in with The Leatherman,... Continue Reading →

Lost Christmas. The End.

I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to say that I had been wandering the corridors of sleep. I wanted to say that there was a ghost in my life. “If I’m honest, I would say that life is treating me badly.” That’s what I wanted to say. The morning had started badly.... Continue Reading →

Lost Christmas…9

The nights are cold. There is never enough warmth from the others. There are times when I think that they must not notice me. I walk so close to the walls that I have become accustomed to mixing with shadows. The kiosk man sees me. The boy came on the second night of the falling.... Continue Reading →

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