All the things I do instead of writing…
I've very little to write about these days. The new job that I took with a view to earning enough money to take time off has subsumed all my time, energy, friends and hobbies. So the only thing I've really been doing is what I usually do when big voids open up in my life... Continue Reading →
I have for so long imagined little scenes in my life as they might have turned out, but as they never do for anyone, because everyone is reticent and risk averse - unless of course they're completely wasted and staggering around Covent Garden in London so drunk that they walk into a glass door at full pelt... Continue Reading →
Every city probably has this divide on public transport. If you board at 8am, it's full of people rustling their papers, cumbersomely trying to sip a Starbucks at the same time, and looking amusingly bright eyed as they contemplate another day of spreadsheets. Get on at 6.45, and the carriage is filled with men in... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 