Falling Blossom

As I write the stories of Meymod I wonder whether the narrator would understand spores and instead I think of blossom. Falling blossom. It makes more sense, a nano technology, a geo-engineered cleaner being something that floats easily rather than spores. Though the idea of sporing blossom is interesting, a fungus tree, for isn’t that…

Finding The Missing Link

You can follow me here each Wednesday through the #clifimadness project which chronicles my research into climate change and how addressing it in fiction, the novel form, may be the answer to reaching a wider audience. I will chronicle my everyday ramblings on twitter and Facebook, please sign up for info there. Part of knowing…

A Mad Dog in a Coffee House

What type of writer are you? There are two distinct variations on the writer (this includes the poet too), the planner and the doer. A simple way to test this is to do the task, a mad dog in a coffee house. Ask a group of writers to imagine this scenario and write about it, that is all. You do not…

A Year of Writing: Days 271-280

Day 271 of #ayearofwriting and this is still my world. So much miasma. So little words. Day 272 of #ayearofwriting and I scribble and dribble. Day 273 of #ayearofwriting and my last week has revolved around a bed and a bathroom. Today, I felt I had the energy to pick up a book. Decided to revisit something that caught my imagination…

Living With Saul for Nearly 100 days

The good thing about keeping a record of what I have done at each writing session is to realise how some stories come easier than others. Where Late the Cicada Sings, which to some extent I wrote in memory of the late Kate Wilhelm, has taken a long time. Katie corresponded with me on and off for…