The cottage was cosy in the daytime. At night, it changed.
When the Writer had let herself in through the heavy, wooden front door, observing as she did so the pretty rose bush which creeped up the ragged stone walls to border the entranceway, she’d felt a surge of peace and contentment. This was the place she’d pen her bestseller, she’d told herself, and for an entire fortnight she’d feel right at home and brimming over with inspiration. Only the most exquisite prose could pour from her fingertips when she was holed up in such a serene abode. Continue reading “A Great Story”
Cammy tossed her phone charger and hair straightener into her suitcase and cast her eyes around the room for last-minute additions to her luggage. She scanned through a list in her mind and mentally checked everything off: toiletries, hairbrush, pyjamas, clothes enough for two days, plus a few extra garments thrown in for luck. Continue reading “Nosey”
“And I’m gonna eat less takeaway, and drink less beer, and –”
“Nah, you can’t drink less beer,” Mike tells me with a shake of his head. “You can’t stop coming to the pub.”
“I’ll still come to the pub, I’ll just drink summat else.”
“Vodka!” Tom announces. “Vodka’s purer than beer. And if you have it with cranberry, ‘cos cranberry’s good for your kidneys, it basically cancels out the alcohol. I read it in Jen’s Cosmo magazine.” Continue reading “Resolution”
Oh, Christmas. You’re a wonderful thing but you’re also bloody tiring and, quite frankly, thank fuck you’re over with so I can get back to my usual routine of reading all the things and writing all the things.
I managed to find a reasonable amount of time for reading this month and it was much-needed after last month’s paltry Reads. I’ll just jump right in, because I’ve read some cracking books over the past few weeks! Continue reading “December Reads”
The second half of 2017 has flown by.
Why? Because I’ve actually being doing something with myself.
Actually, that’s a lie. In the first seven months of 2017 I was working, at a snail’s pace, on my novel, and hoping that maybe one day it would be done and maybe it would be good enough to approach agents with. But I wasn’t taking it all that seriously; it was just a bit of fun. Continue reading “2017 Roundup and 2018 Writing Goals”
Three loud knocks jolted the interviewer out of her daze. She let out a small groan, frustrated that yet another candidate had arrived early.
She assumed they all believed that being early would win them points, but in reality it only irritated her. When she said 10.30, she meant 10.30 – not 10.20 or 10.25 or even 10.27. Every single minute of peace was vital when you had to spend your day interviewing inept, inexperienced graduates who knew all the bullshit words in the book to come off as smarter than they actually were. Continue reading “The Interview: Part 2”
This month’s reading list is a little lacklustre because I only managed to read one book (“And you call yourself a writer and a book-lover, how dare you?!” I KNOW). Thanks to NaNoWriMo and a very busy work month, I’ve pretty much been shackled to my keyboard and it’s been hellish. But the book I did read was a bloody big ‘un – Stephen King’s It. There be spoilers ahead. Continue reading “November Reads”
The candidate ran his hand through his hair, straightened his tie, and then knocked three times on the door. It was a strong knock, he thought. Firm, yet friendly. At least, that’s how he hoped the interviewer would see it.
He was a few minutes early to demonstrate his time-keeping abilities. After all, he had little else going for him other than the fact that he could avoid tardiness. Continue reading “The Interview: Part 1”
Oh God, not another meeting, I can’t handle another meeting, I’m gonna crash, I’m gonna fall asleep on my feet, they’re gonna think I’m a lazy bastard but they won’t know that this is my eighth meeting of the day and that I’ve drunk so much coffee I’m peeing brown and my head is spinning. Continue reading “The Twelfth Espresso”
“Psst. Did you see Frank earlier? With Sue?”
“Urgh, I know. Poor girl. Don’t know why they put up with it.”
“Don’t seem to have a lot of choice,” the kitchen wall replied with a sigh. Continue reading “The Walls Always Talk”