All posts tagged: Blog

Tomorrow #DVersePoetics

Tomorrow has taken to pressing up against the windows, fingers splayed on the glazing, eyes big like old iron lamps swinging in the wind this way, then that.   Where can you hide in this glass house of yours, with the statues you carved out of all the words swallowed instead of spoken and choked up behind closed doors, with tomorrow still pressed up against the windows.   And what do you say to the policeman with the kind eyes who takes a statement, writes down eyes like old iron lamps, and promises that they will look into it while tomorrow is still pressed up against the windows. Tonight we’re being asked to think about the days of the week with our poems, and I’ve wandered a little off topic with mine by focusing in on the idea of tomorrow. While you’re here, I just thought I’d mention that my poetry collection ‘It’s All In The Blood’ is available to buy through Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com. It’s a self-published venture and a project that I’m incredibly proud …

Spring Sprung #DVersePoets #HaibunMonday

I felt the day yawn this evening. Stretch itself a little further, a little longer. Shoulder up against the dusk and edge another moment of space for itself, before slipping back beneath the blankets of shadow beyond the train station. I tell myself it was waiting for me. Finally found a coat warm enough to ward off Winter’s frosty demeanour. Scuffed a booted foot against the concrete pavement, shimmered in the puddles with each sure, step. Can’t be sure if I’ll see the same tomorrow. Crack open the office doors and find night too close for comfort, the space between bare branches weighed out in shadows. Wonder why she left so soon, if she ever turned up the first time. Spring slips in shyly, sets down roots slowly, with care, when you’re not looking.

Night On The Ice #WeekendWritingPrompt

Blue lipped kissed, laid your cheek on the ice and searched for a gap you would slip beneath.   Like hunting for pennies beneath kitchen counters, their copper wink bite so, so cold in your palm.   And a creaking below of sheets shifting, rising, a threat to throw you out into the wakeful night.   What you would give for stillness another side of the looking-glass. Thank you for stopping by, and if you enjoyed the poem above then you might enjoy my poetry collection ‘It’s All In The Blood’ which can be purchased from Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com. It’s a self-published collection so I have to rely on readers buying and reviewing the book to help promote it, especially in places such as the USA. Thank you again for your time.  

February Speculative Fiction Prompt

The guidelines for those of you who are new are as follows: Speculative Fiction: a genre of fiction that encompasses works in which the setting is other than the real world, involving supernatural, futuristic, or other imagined elements. [Oxford Dictionary] Use the image below to write a story, poem, perhaps even a script. There are no rules about form or style. If you would like to create a piece of art in response that is also welcome. This prompt is about being artistic and creative in whatever way suits you best. Please keep entries PG as this is open to all. (i.e no erotica) The prompt is open from the first of the month to the end of the month. Use pingbacks to link up to the prompt or leave a link in the comments section. Whichever you prefer. I try to at least read every entry in the prompt and I’d love to encourage anyone taking part to try and check some of the other entries if they can. As always, re-tweets, re-blogs, and …

New Year, New Decade, So What’s The Plan? #WeekendCoffeeShare

A few years ago I decided that I wasn’t going to bother making New Year’s resolutions anymore. The fact was that whatever I ‘resolved’ to do, I always ended up feeling like I’d failed by year end. So instead I set myself a number of goals that I wanted to achieve at some point in the year, and then periodically I would sit down and review my progress towards those goals. This year I had a few things that I really wanted to achieve, number one on that list was publishing my poetry collection ‘It’s All In The Blood’. The collection launched in November and is now available to purchase through Amazon, so I’m counting that as goal achieved. It’s even had it’s first review: Quietly powerful, heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time I’m quite chuffed with that as far as reviews go. My other main goal for the year was to complete my AAT exams, and on the 19th December I found out I’d achieved 87% on my Personal Tax exam which means …

Deep In The Den – #WeekendWritingPrompt

‘You know I don’t deal with fragile little birds.’ Hanson gripped the girl by the chin and pulled her closer. Her forced her head up and grinned when she flinched away from the lantern he held. ‘She’s no fragile bird,’ Raven told him. ‘Took out two garrisons all by herself. She was about to take out a third when we caught up with her.’ ‘Yeah,’ said Hanson. ‘And doped her up on opium for good measure did you? The Chains not enough?’ He dropped her face and yanked the chains connecting her feet to her wrists. ‘For her?’ said Raven. ‘Even this might not be enough.’ Playing around with some new characters for my novel Darkened Daughter. Not sure if I’ll be incorporating Raven and Hanson yet, but this might be an interesting chapter to write on my next accountancy exam is out of the way and I have a couple of weeks free time.

From Her Side Of Things #DVersePoets #MondayHaibun

Someone comments that she’d never really worked. Not a proper job. Not a nine-to-five, sit down at a desk, shuffle the papers, count the numbers, find the words sort of job. She just ‘helped’ her parents in their shop, then ‘helped’ her husband. At Christmas my mother, her daughter, takes the carving knife. Skills become ingrained when you park a pram in the backroom of a butcher’s. They get passed down on generation to the next. Not always perfect, but present like the bark and callous of their hands when they take mine. Evidence of everything they’ve given. She says she never really worked a proper job, not a nine-to-five, like I have. Passes me the cutter for scones that won’t be as good as her mother’s, because she hasn’t got the knack like she had. She was only ever ‘helping’ not working, not like her daughter does, not like I do. She was only ever there in the background. Autumn is not Spring, but beauty still grows in her and there is worth there.

Home Bird – #DVersePoetics

These wings don’t go far, or high much. They rustle the leaves in the hedge when summer sits about, the branches when summer has flit south.   There is something to be said for roots over wings. For a spot to return to each time, when it’s warm or cold and I don’t want to go far or high very much.  

Not A Word To Waste, The Horror Of Redrafts #WeekendCoffeeShare

This weekend the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge is taking place. Last month I posted my entry for the second challenge of the first round: Stolen Silence and at the moment I’m working on redrafting my submission for the first challenge of this year’s first round. Redrafting is the part of the process where you quite often find yourself doubting that you have any ability to put one work in front of the other at all. You find typos, spelling mistakes, words that you didn’t even know existed. Tenses switch back and forth, character names suddenly change, and out of nowhere you move from mountains to city surroundings. Editing is where all your mistakes come to the forefront and you have to go back and fix them. If you’re luck you will have brilliant people who will help you with your redrafts and edits. These people (if you can find the ones that will give you an honest review rather than just ‘yeah mate, good job’) are invaluable for getting your past that snow-blind stage …

To Self-Publish Or Not To Self-Publish? That Is The Sleep Depriving Question #WeekendCoffeeShare

About five years ago I self-published a collection of poetry through lulu. I made exactly nothing despite apparently selling at least one book through amazon (according to the less that encouraging review posted), and in the end I retired the project. The experience taught me a number of important things. Lulu is not the way to go if you want to sell a physical book on Amazon and make any margin. I am not a good enough editor. I need to outsource this element to avoid the number of typos and mistakes that were in the last book. Reading poems you wrote five or more years ago can be a painful experience. Especially when you realise the bad review hit the nail directly on the head. So why am I about to give self-publishing another shot? Well clearly I’m a glutton for punishment. When I published ‘Before The Words Run Out’ there were thirty-two poems, a series of haiku, and some pieces of flash fiction (all of which can be found somewhere in the depths of …