Some mornings I wake up and I want to run away. I stare at the curtains, at the pallid floral pattern and long to escape. The early light paints the room grey, the pipes creak, the cars drive by and by and by. I want to run away and leave everyone behind. Even you. Even... Continue Reading →
Hitting a milestone…with a little help
Hello to all the followers I've acquired over the past week and a big thank you to Ionia Martin mentioning me in her delightful Readful Things blog. I've now passed 100 followers which a big milestone for me, although it does ratchet up the pressure to keep you entertained with witty and engaging posts. So I'm... Continue Reading →
Poetry – I Sleep on a Bed of Books
I sleep on a bed of books, my body cradled with words and deeds, bled into the fabric of time. They support my limbs, they hold my head, screaming in the silence, keeping me afloat. At night I wait, for the tomes to seep into me, slicing inside like purple neon lasers. I wish to... Continue Reading →
Prose – The Moon
It was the moon that made her fall. She had been running for an age, scratched and bloodied on her feet and arms with scalp and back slick with sweat. Her scarf was long lost and her hair, haphazard gold and dark tones, flowed behind her like a sail. The trees were dark guards, the... Continue Reading →
Poetry – Rooted
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 →
Prose – The Big Guy
The thin faced Drone is taking me to see The Big Guy. I’m not surprised. The day I arrived he’d told me The Big Guy was a fan of my work. I’m just happy to get away from the endless filing. We walk through the office. It’s the greyest place I’ve ever seen. The walls,... Continue Reading →
A new place for Wordlander
I've been away from the blogosphere recently due to moving to a lovely new home and not having any Internet. But now I'm back, with a slightly more personal post than usual, all about my new place. This is the first flat my boyfriend and I have bought (as opposed to rented) and having a... Continue Reading →
Poetry – Trace
You long to press your forehead to the cold window pane and breathe, then trace a message of escape in reverse. Clutching your safety blanket, liquid for lost fingers, you wonder if another one could take all these cares away. Tied to your wrist, the silver string that leads to your distant whole, strains and... 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 →
Wordland 