Serendipity Range (1971) 11.39am. Carol’s head felt like a fire in a neglected pedal bin. The vodka had been a mistake, the downers a larger one. There would be no chance of making it to her aunt’s luncheon now and all hope of a reconciliation would be
* A friend met me at the pub and told me he had been clearing out his gran’s house. One thing he’d found in the house was a knitted effigy of the man who had run off and abandoned my friend’s pregnant aunt. Into the effigy had been
When I was dragged (not as reluctantly as I pretended) on walks as a child by my parents, I often amused myself by going off into my own fantasy world: I'd look at derelict buildings and imagine the banshees and spectres who lived in there, wander off into
Newsletter
These days, when I’m writing a book, I want to learn, I don’t want to rest too hard on anything overfamiliar, I want to challenge myself to take my writing somewhere it hasn’t gone in the past, and I want a sense of the unknown: a feeling
Writing
* It’s amazing, the ways all our different minds work. We give names to some of the ways but that’s just a method of attempting to stop all our different minds from being blown by the unbridled diversity at play, all the minuscule differences that mean no person can
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Newsletter
Podcast
Welcome to the first episode of Pixie-led with Tom Cox.
Writing
Earlier this month a man called Chris sent me a photo of a wire figure nailed to a tree so I immediately asked him for map co-ordinates of its precise location. He said it was in Barleysplat Wood, which is on the steep rocky apron of Bodmin Moor, about half