Lost song: a story
Trees curled and curved in, up and over, and boulders pushed the earth aside. Hat tucked his spidery legs underneath and settled down on a mossy rock. Silence enveloped him.
On time, passing
There were many moments over the last few months when I wished I’d been on time. Then one moment gathered all those moments. When I needed it most, I was there.
One line
Some days, I wonder why I write stories. Is it to get published? Yep. Can’t deny that one. Is it to be read and heard, and maybe loved? Oh, yes. But why does it make me ache if I don’t?
Strong
Where you might see softness, I can find strength. Where you think you’ve found weakness, I can see depth.
Mixed feelings
Hearing music, being able to play it, singing it beautifully or singing it as if no-one else exists in the world. Tapping it out, hearing it as you run your fingers along a fence, sensing it in the pulse of another. Feeling it. It all blends to a sweet and personal harmony.
Podlike: ripe with allusions
The Allusionist is frequently surprising, subversive and powerful. This episode was an early, shining example.
Before too long
My first book. Beginning, middle, end. First draft, second draft, final draft. Darlings killed, darlings slayed. Done.
What memory is
Memory is weak, like water. It is strong, like waves.
The love of words
People sometimes say that names don’t hold meaning. That they don’t define you. But they can. And in the age of the internet, usernames are an opportunity to add meaning to who you are.