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Thank you for supporting my writing this year. I’ve opened up my archived pieces for a few days for everyone to read, in case you’re relatively new here, or missed them first time around. There are well over two dozen in total. These are among my favourite few:
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RICHARD I suppose it would have been around 2008. Certainly no earlier than 2006. The deepest part of a deep winter. Wind was blurring the air and thrashing every shred of extraneous debris from frightened trees and I walked, with no particular purpose, towards the dog-eared margin of the land.
A Sort Of (Real) Ghost Story For Solstice
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One of the things that surprised me, when I briefly moved to the green fringe of the fine city of Norwich in 2019, was the way the place sounded. It was quiet in a different way to the very rural house I’d moved from, where agricultural machinery and speeding
Will seeing the cover of your book for the first time ever get any less thrilling? I very much doubt it. I’m so excited to be able to reveal the cover of my new book, 1983. Like its predecessor, Villager, and my 2018 collection of short stories Help The
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A Very Short Story Set In Some Woodland
Today's - quite silly - post is free for all subscribers but you’ll need to click through to read the full thing as the fact that it contains lots of photos means it doesn’t all fit as one email. If you are considering becoming a paid
I started this Substack page a little under a year ago. I felt a little nervous, making the transfer, since it was unknown territory for me and I already had a fairly large number of subscribers who’d signed up to read my writing via my website, but since then
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It was the week before I moved house and I was haring around, begging local businesses for old cardboard boxes and dropping off unwanted possessions at charity shops and recycling centres. After donating some books and clothes to the Liskeard branch of British Heart Foundation I realised I was not
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An Early Winter Compendium
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A photo essay, now free for everyone to read, about a walk I’m still thinking about, over six months later… What is more remarkable: our capacity to forget suffering and darkness, or our capacity to remember it? I’m frequently equally struck by both. But I do know that
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One of the writers on the internet who tell people what they need to do to be a proper writer recently said you should write about what keeps you awake at night so I thought I should write about the noise of my cat Jim crunching mouse bones a few