I really didn’t want to post The Addiction to Disturbed Literature, definitely not without a reflection. Continue reading “The Addiction”
I wanted to write something simple and abstract with a direct message, a fable as such. It was a way of reflecting on certain events in my life at the time. It was around 5am, when walking a six-mile journey home after a long binge-drinking session that I thought up the idea of The Moth and the Butterfly. I penned it before passing out. Enjoy.
Silhouettes is a poem I wrote when feeling particularly nostalgic, about a year after moving country. Continue reading “Silhouettes”
Inspiration can hit at any time and place. Many writers fall into the trap of ‘waiting for inspiration’, when in fact inspiration Continue reading “Inspiration”
Four is my favourite number. I was born on the fourth, I count in fours, and when deciding how many of something to eat, I generally settle for four. Continue reading “The Law of Four”
I dug this really old story out recently. Camping with the Devil was part of my short story collection Aldershot Stories, Continue reading “Camping with the Devil”
I wrote The South Gut after a short holiday to Devon, one of the only times I had ever feared for my life. There isn’t any fiction here, Continue reading “The South Gut”
Pyromania was written for a short story competition a long, long time ago. It received an interesting critique, but I put it to one side as a mere experimental with voice and imagery. When I reread it a few years later, I hardly recognised it, which was rather chilling.
So I’m giving Pyromania one last lease of life.
The 25th Hour is the first horror story I ever wrote. I was at a writing retreat when I was asked to try my hand at horror, using a title from another story Thirteen O’clock as a prompt. Continue reading “The 25th Hour”