Outside this morning, magpies speak in curling tongues and the Little Ravens caw. Various dogs are positioned at gates to stop intruders with their incendiary yapping. Is the country quieter? It must be. Though maybe there are similarities, the ravens still sound sad when you’re deep in the damp of ... READ MORE
The 18th-century Englishman Samuel Johnson once wrote, ‘He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others. I read this in a piece by Susan Chenery in ‘The Guardian’ (which I subscribe to, she said dully). There are dull men and plenty of dull women ... READ MORE
‘Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost’ The other stormy night, listening to the rain that seemed to have forgotten us, I thought of Leonard Cohen, of rain, and I thought of Susan Duncan, a dearly loved friend who died a few months back. I only ... READ MORE
The things we don’t know; like how you’ll be for the rest of your life or how you’ll die, if your kids will be all right, these things occupy us like a long rolling desert within. These are our dry interiors, and we try not to think about them. There ... READ MORE
I hear cars buzzing through the dark night going somewhere, maybe heading for the midnight traffic jam or just home to bed. Still, noise swells on the tide of the night and reminds me of Leonard Cohen’s song ‘Boogie Street’. ‘I’m wanted at the traffic-jam They’re saving me a seat.’ ... READ MORE
I’m listening to ‘Texas Flood’ by Stevie Ray Vaughan, not one he wrote but one of many he made his own. He was a small boy with a violent drunk for a father and a brother who could play the guitar very well, but it must have been only a ... READ MORE
Two footballs and three frisbees relaxed on the roof of the school hall on polling day. There were many small dogs on leads, many sausages in bread devoured and much money donated to the school on this perfect autumn day. Kids played football and basketball, and the girls did cartwheels. ... READ MORE
An Easter murmuration of starlings, darkly swerving ribbons of birds in a stuttering sky considering rain. By now we can eat no more chocolate, we have watched no television, played trivia tests and just talked and eaten and after we’re sure the kids are asleep, we place the eggs. Alan, ... READ MORE
These days seem to spring forth from some secret box nature has been keeping for the right day, and here it is. The pin oaks are becoming amber rivers dipping against the impossible blue sky. The bougainvillea is the deep colour of purple wildness held in a pot. The dog ... READ MORE
I had seven rejections for my first novel and each was as painful as a graze. Random House took it on in the end, probably as a favour to my editor/agent, and then held it back from publishing for eighteen months When it was finally published, it was shortlisted for ... READ MORE