The world does not need this blog. It is not about huge successes, it is about dreams and memories and scratching away. It is about little things, like rejection slips and kid’s nightmares. Still, I have to be professional. It does not do to encourage further rejection by blogging about how many times a particular […]
“But David”, I hear you say, “you drag us down with your dismal ends of the world, your Cormac McCarthy, your environmental collapse, your negativity. What about a cheerful apocalypse?” Girls and boys and mutants, look no further! “And it won’t be a pretty sight” cha cha cha … … (Thank you Daylight Savings and […]
In my comfortable childhood, how I longed for nuclear war(1). My friends and I, we were prepared. We didn’t have a bomb shelter, but we would make one in “The Darkies” (2) at fairly short notice. We didn’t have supplies, but we knew where to get them, at the very last minute. I convinced my […]
I suspect he must have made his way into dream at some stage, for me to feel about him the way I did, though I have no memory of the dream itself. It would not surprise me. My parents recall that I ended up in their bed in the middle of the night after being […]
The world of rejection slips is probably more impersonal than it ever was, now that form letters have been replaced by form e mails. As a person who is able to work out what people were thinking by the way they placed a stamp on an envelope, (I have a story about that somewhere), I […]
(Having mentioned Ron Dionne in my first post, here is a review of his novel SAD JINGO I previously posted elsewhere) We know why the children who read Harry Potter identify with the main wizard. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there was magic in the world? And if there was, of course I would be […]
I’ve been blogging in a few places under a nom de guerre, which was all lots of fun, but the years pass by and the things I meant to do remain undone, and I realised blogging had become another distraction, or worse, an ersatz alternative to writing fiction, a trick that allows me to think, […]
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