It strikes me that there isn’t room in this part of the world for writers like J.D. Salinger. Rude, demanding and aggressively protective of his work, I’m not sure any of us would have the balls/ovaries to pull that kind of commitment off anymore. Continue reading “Catching Salinger”
On my first day of Creative writing lectures it quickly became clear that apart from the bloke at the front doing the talking there was only one person in the room who truly knew what he was talking about. And it definitely wasn’t me.
After talking with this man over a period of a couple of years I came to know that he was the real deal. Most of us had read vigorously from an early age, but then most of us read what we liked. We weren’t really looking for a challenge. This man read his way through quite a few modern classics and had been an accomplished poet for some time. He was and is roughly the same age as me.
We became friends, collaborated on a couple of projects together and drank far too much. We eventually fell out.
The part of him that remained with me, though, was his commitment to understanding his craft. He didn’t just read some books, have some ideas and think that was enough. He practised daily and mined the culture for the deep structures that he was building his art around.
His word power, grammar knowledge and sheer passion for the language fauna that we don’t always notice was and probably still is, literally staggering. Think about that. I mean it. His knowledge would leave you punch drunk and staggering for words, maybe staggering for balance.
So you’ve not been dyed in the wool in quite the same way, but you want get into things, ease yourself in, build yourself up. Where’s a good place to start?
Well, give me ten minutes of your time and I’ll explain in the video linked below. I promise, it won’t be boring.
I wavered on the title of this story. The linked PDF is entitled ‘Somebody I used To Be’. It’s an old one, my second, and if I’m honest, I now view it as naive. Written in the first year of University, it fell out of me after that first bottle of wine. I thought I’d created something beautiful. Continue reading “The Speed Of Light”
Publishing on Amazon is a tyranny.
You sign up, prepare your final draft, and translate it into a format an e-reader can, erm, read. Continue reading “Patronised.”
The Bristol Cable is a local paper in my home city of Bristol. Created using a cooperative model, it’s already pulled together nearly 2000 people. Continue reading “Local Hero”
In the UK, depending on who you talk to, views of the Soviet Union range from ‘that wasn’t proper Communism’ to ‘it was worse than Nazi Germany’ to ‘everybody was fed, everybody was housed, yes there were problems but…’. I’ve made these ‘quotes’ up, but over my time of swinging around the political spectrum, of talking to people from all sides of the left/right debate the USSR is hard to avoid. Continue reading “Driving Time”
When friends come to Bristol one of the first places I take them is Cabot tower. With panoramic views across the city it starts the visit not only with a climb, but more importantly, a wide eyed model-like experience of the surrounding area. Continue reading “My Dear Fellow”