There is a cliché — a rather romanticised cliché — of the solitary writer. The writer, alone, tortured, struggling, poor, with those fingerless gloves that allow us to type away but protect us a bit from the cold — as writers always write when it’s cold and never can afford heating. Well, as is the … Continue reading run

the longest day

Playing around with a style thing here. I’ve done this a couple of times — working exclusively with dialogue, to both demand more of and also allow more flexibility for the reader — once it was received well; once not so much. Not something I’m giving up on just yet. “What time did you get up this … Continue reading the longest day