On the carpet her slick dark halo and pink legs swim in the crescent studded dust. Salt dries in the black, ears sealed, she pushes down. Splintered glitter through concrete, the tips caress the naked the lost and the blessed. Beyond burnt lights, warm grease plugs the gaps. Someone shouts turn the music down.... Continue Reading →
Get Paid to Do Your Own Writers Retreat!
Like a lot of writers, I have a day job so I don't have to live in a box eating my own toenails. I fit my writing in when I can, usually in the evenings. The idea of going on a writer's retreat is certainly appealing. But these retreats don't come cheap. So I started... Continue Reading →
Take the Crow Road – a few words about Iain Banks
Today is a sad day. Writer Iain Banks announced he has terminal cancer and isn't expected to live beyond the end of the year. My previous post talked about my five favourite books and just nudging the outside of those is 'The Crow Road'. I adore this book, bought on a whim on a vague... Continue Reading →
What are your Favourite Books?
This list is part of a much bigger one of 'books I can't live without', but I whittled it down to five because it's easier to build a blog post around it. Top (insert number here) lists are entirely objective of course, but I quite like them. So now, without further ado and in no particular... Continue Reading →
Prose – Postcard from Norway
We took the car ferry across the glossy Sognefjord to the Norwegian Glacier Museum. Inside, three huge cocooning screens showed a film that flew us over the glaciers that spread over the country. Afterwards, it was only fitting that we visited a real glacier - or at least part of it. The Boyabreen arm of... Continue Reading →
Prose – When shall we three meet again?
'When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lighting or in rain?' 'Well you usually get all three together. I'd check the weather forecast.' Lynda, mother of the witches three, shrugged her hood off and glared at the young girl to her left. 'All right Miss smarty pants, put that phone down! Oh never mind.... Continue Reading →
Poetry – The Doll
The scratching became a tapping, that soon became a crying, I heard the voice inside me, in my bedroom down below. ‘Mice,’ said my mother, clucking, so my father got to trapping, and I waited for the screaming, in my bedroom down below. A doll found silent sitting, like the bride forever waiting, they called... Continue Reading →
Prose – Tradition
Don’t believe what you read in the papers. They call me a rogue, a trouble maker, unstable, but that’s bull. I don’t play by the rules, that’s for sure, but frankly, the rules suck. They've tried to stop me. They've cut off my magic a hundred times. I just buy more on the black market.... Continue Reading →
Steel and Dust
I walk the line and check the tracks, one shot of light in the breathless deep. The hundreds that were torn still cling as dust to the steel around me. A pinprick lamp forms and condenses, spiking a chill deep in my spine. He touches a cap above an empty face, and rubs stiff hands... Continue Reading →
Welcome to Wordland
My name is Wordlander (no really) and you can find out more about me here. This blog is going to be primarily about writing and books, but I may occasionally post about other things that take my fancy because, well, it's my blog and I can. I'll also be posting examples of my own work,... Continue Reading →
Wordland 