Where it feels right to write

After a lifetime of working freelance as an illustrator, graphic designer, copywriter and cartoonist, I have an established working routine and a quiet studio with forty years history embedded in every dust mote – or I did have until we moved house a few years ago. I now have a smaller studio, but much ofContinue reading “Where it feels right to write”

How I didn’t find a Literary Agent

A quick check on Google confirmed my worst fears. There are almost half a billion returns for ‘unicorn’ and only 168 for ‘literary agents’. Does that mean that getting into a conversation with a unicorn is more likely than getting a literary agent to consider my latest novel? This was how I approached the process.Continue reading “How I didn’t find a Literary Agent”

Learning to be normal

Everyone human being is made slightly different. Given that there are now over seven billion of us that’s pretty remarkable. It’s also not surprising that some of us malfunction in minor ways. Knowing what someone else is feeling can be a major problem. When I was a childI thought everyone else had a sixth senseContinue reading “Learning to be normal”

Plots and storyboards

My first novel was planned meticulouslyI had no idea how ‘real’ authors developed their plots. Previously I had tried to write a novel with very little planning and my plot got confused – even the characters in my novel got confused. So I set about working out everything beforehand. This is probably an aspect ofContinue reading “Plots and storyboards”

There’s No Point

There is no point in travelling, when you’ve no place to be. No sense in searching, when your heart cannot see. And no doors will unlock, when you don’t have a key. There is no point in sowing, where love cannot grow. No questions worth asking, of a life you can’t know. And no reasonContinue reading “There’s No Point”

Dancing Alone

A sirens sounds for the daily dance,a game that is carelessly played.In covert signs and coded words,Liaisons are sought, alliances made. But those who don’t hear, or don’t know the rules,are lost in this masquerade. By day they are silent, in the evening alone,weaving dreams that may never see light.Mouthing the words of songs theyContinue reading “Dancing Alone”

I was born in black and white

I am a part of that post war, baby boom, privileged generation – except it wasn’t quite like that for everyone. Silver spoons from which to sup were few and far between in the suburban hinterland between North Kent and London. The most common weed on our pavements was wheat, still trying to break throughContinue reading “I was born in black and white”