One of many reasons I love Tim Powers

The real reason to write fiction, after all, isn’t to make money, nor to show the human heart in conflict with itself, nor to give a picture of one’s time, nor to call attention to the plight of any oppressed classes, but to show off. You want to be able to say to visitors, “Sit […]

Loving the alien

LOVING THE ALIEN Sniff of chlorophyl whiff of ether Look down see fronds part and unfurl cupping leafy embrace cool breeze tugs you in moss is velvet you sink the green plant yourself lean in and skin unfurls to mask you kissing inside and out you are draped try to make sense of distant calls […]

The sweetest thing

Dear David Stevens, Thank you for sending us “Good Boy”. We love it and would like to publish it … No, thank you!! Big smile! The things that get us through the day.

My patchwork body, bleeding over the keyboard

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 […]

Thank you v much, Scott P

The world of rejection slips is probably more impersonal than it ever was, now that form letters have been replaced by form e mails.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 […]

Captain of Industry

Slam!, and he was on the floor, clutching his head, overwhelmed.   At the same time, he was standing, thrusting upwards with a great shard of perspex, a handy sabre grabbed from the rubbish strewn across the squat.   Felt the press of humanity, the closeness of so many bodies, their stink, the smells of […]

That’s a big 10-4, Rubber Duck!

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, […]