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No Ghosts

  I was on a long drive last weekend. It was tedious and came on the end of a busy few days. I pulled into a motorway services, parked, turned off the engine and draped a large dark blue scarf over my head and upper body to take a reviving nap. I wondered what this... Continue Reading →

A Language Spoken By touch

Recently I had the pleasure of meeting artist and weaver Imogen Di Sapia in her Brighton studio. It was a lovely meeting that came about because Imogen bought some of my work and I was delivering it. In my current book Salt Lick, as food production has moved overseas, the rural economy collapses and the... Continue Reading →

Four Questions on Reading and Writing

My daughter Lilian is a dancer. She’s curious about the human soul, insightful and intelligent. But she doesn’t read books. It’s a bit heartbreaking, and believe me, is not for want of me being encouraging/nagging/moderately unhinged about it. She is mildly dyslexic, primarily affecting the way she is able to deal with large blocks of... Continue Reading →

Walking Words

My hand writing is getting worse. But no matter. I am doing more of it. Just as I came to realise that the bump on the side of the second knuckle of my right middle finger, the biro bump, earned through tedious hours of school essay writing and solipsistic teen-journal keeping, has all but gone,... Continue Reading →

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