Sunday, February 27, 2011

On holiday

... although I admit I suggested going up a hill today. En route, I let slip the story I'm working on centres on a hillwalking trip.

'So this is research?' Boyf said, outraged.
'No, no, not research. Just ... useful.'

Back soon. x

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Parrot, dog, guppy.

Is guppy a thing one is sick as?

I've had three nasty bugs this winter, with barely time inbetween each to recover. Meanwhile, time thunders onwards and deadlines are lining up like dominoes. Right now I'm working on a story that I hope will be resonant and complex and meaningful when its done, and thinking about future stories, and an animation that I'm lying awake at night obsessing over. I can't wait to set it all up and start work.

At the same time, I'm aware that my beautiful son is swiftly growing up, and if I'm not careful I'll miss some of his wonderful, weightless and miraculous life.

These are quite wonderful problems to have, I think - to be torn between many things that one loves. Maybe the key is in learning to juggle gracefully, and not to get too upset when one inevitably drops a ball.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Black noodles

For Valentine's refuseniks out there.  A free short story – click on the link to read the rest.


I called my best friend from the harbour.
‘He’s not coming.’
It’s not even that I was in love with the guy or anything, I was just sick of being let down. Another night on my own on the island. Usually I loved the dark sky, how the lights of the town weren’t bright enough to blot out the stars. You could stand on the pier and the cold air would cut into your lungs and the sea was always sucking and jumping under your feet, black and huge and unpredictable.
But this particular cold night was Valentine’s night – enough to depress me anyway, and the guy I’d been fucking had just called to cancel. It had been a glimmer of something, his coming out that weekend. To spend the night, to be with me for Valentine’s with all the nervous romantic trimmings. Maybe he was more than the guy I was fucking. Maybe he wasn’t entirely joking when he said we’d have really cute kids. Maybe despite the odd things about him, his funny soft accent and his perpetual solitude and inexplicable phone arguments with his Korean relatives, he might turn out to be a kind man. 


Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Sunday, February 06, 2011


'What's the problem'
'I'm tired.'
'When the baby sleeps, I work.'
'Ah. That conundrum. It's one or the other, is it? Baby or work.'
'You need to rest.'
'You're right. God, you're so right. I could and I should.'
'Absolutely. Next time you have a free hour or so, just spend it doing something that you love, something that makes you whole, something to replenish the well.'
'Like - go for a walk?'
'Walk. Swim. Read. Have a bath. We need moments of joy in our lives.'
'Yes. You're right. So right. Such a wonderful idea. Thank you.'
'Excuse me, what is - what are you doing?'
'I'm just taking a note. You know, the idea of needing joy, how women do all this invisible work, how tired everyone is, how we're so much less tired than sweatshop workers, how we live in a culture of complaint, I had this idea for an essay, or a story, maybe a novel, maybe some poems, oh, even, I'd love to do a film. Wouldn't that be interesting? Don't you think? Hello? Hello?'

Friday, February 04, 2011

Effing machines

Working on a steampunk story for the fabulous Kristina Wright.

I sketched out a rough design for the chair that features in my story.  I then discovered that I was about 140 years too late:  Check out The Manipulator, steam powered vibrator, 1870.

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

Nude studies

A photo essay, mostly about nudity, nakedness and other unclothed states, up at F-stop.

Many thanks to the lovely Shanna for her patience as I fiddled and changed and edited this essay right up to the last minute. It's a very personal one, much more intimate than I'm used to writing. I expect that's why I was so nervous.

Anyway, I enjoyed putting it together. Though I have a lot of reservations about non-fiction, (mostly because I know very little about it) I have to admit some of the most interesting writing I'm reading lately is in essay form.

Sweetest Kiss/condom winner!

... is Robin! Erobintica, can you send me your snail address, please? I'll get the book in the post to you shortly.