Old books – more than the sum of their parts
Sorting my mother’s old books I came across volumes remembered from when I was a child. They contained so much more than their own pages.
Sorting my mother’s old books I came across volumes remembered from when I was a child. They contained so much more than their own pages.
Every new morning is a new opportunity to do like Michael Finnegan. A pep talk (to myself) and a way of not missing another blog post.
A second post focussing on my blog posts’ header images. Something I feel doesn’t otherwise have a spotlight shone on it.
One of my first jobs after graduating from university – I worked for a steel fabricating company under the arches near Leeds station.
At last, a reading diary entry that stretches over six months and reaches from The Fortune Men to the Ministry for the Future
Empty stomachs, an empty cinema and actors performing in an empty space. Peter Brook would have approved. Viewing “Official Competition”.
Serneke’s Karlatorn has pushed into view over the crest of Ramberget and permanently changed the view from our living room. A photo essay.
Last weekend I attended the SWF22 – the Stockholm Writers’ Festival 2022. I’m still digesting it, so what follows here is just a series of impressions.
For nearly three months I’ve been writing a poem a day as a creative writing dscipline and I’m quite pleased with how it’s turning out.
A short notification that I’m taking part in – and very much enjoying – the Guardian Masterclass summer writers’ retreat.