I am listening, over one week, to an abridged version of the Roy Foster book, On Seamus Heaney. Adrian Dunbar is reading. Cashmere blanket voice. I could listen to him read my home insurance policy and still feel comforted. Commitment, that’s what’s coming through in this morning’s section, that Heaney was a committed grafter: drafting, crafting, … Continue reading Heaney Healing
‘It’s all well and good, this poetry phase you are going through, but please tell me you’re nearly through it. What’s it all about anyway? All that wandering and maundering. And those ghosts? Are they real? –By which I mean, I know they’re not real, but do you think they’re real? When are you going to get this poem … Continue reading Something Simple
A few years ago, the BBC made a series of programmes called, What Do Artists Do All Day? Jack Vettriano, Scottish painter, was the subject of one. Sitting in his semmit vest humming Blue Velvet whist making tiny marks on the canvas, he turns to the camera: “I’m usually painting by 5am, steal a march … Continue reading Work Work Chop Chop Busy Busy Bang Bang
Were my impulse to write anywhere near my impulse to consume ice-cream (or dark chocolate), then I would have a prodigious output. I love ice-cream, often crave it in an ‘it doesn’t matter if it is cold and dark and wet and ten o’clock at night, I’m going to out to buy some.’ Inevitably, when … Continue reading One True Sentence
Kate, my niece, is making a Recency-style Spencer jacket; she downloaded the pattern from the internet. ‘It’s spare on instructions,’ she tells me. ‘It says things like – then attach the arm, and not a word more.’ She is a surgeon with fabric, and can, somehow, execute this reverse amputation with minimum trial and error and … Continue reading Unpick and Start Again
Why we should keep old letters...
I have become accustomed to the online life; even those things I thought I would hate to attend virtually – like an online book festival – it turns out I rather like. Last month, I joined some talks by writers organised by Liverpool’s Writing on the Wall annual festival. One speaker was Ben Okri. There … Continue reading Doubt
Without success, I am trying to write an ending. I have selected some novels from my bookshelf to see how they do it. Welsh (Trainspotting, 1993), Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1890) and Woolf (The Waves, 1931) are huddled together at the end of one shelf. I decide that, between the three of them, they should … Continue reading Thinking of Ending It
Step 1: Have a cup of tea and two slices of malted sourdough with crunchy peanut butter (not too much, pretend there are only scrapings left in the jar) and thinly sliced banana. I will eat and drink slowly whilst chewing my food for longer than seems necessary, for this not benefits not only my … Continue reading Overcoming Writer’s Block: Four Steps
I recently came across the dictation function on my computer, a find that, initially, gave rise to much excitement. My excitement was dashed, however, when I set about using it and realised it was hard of hearing. What other reason could there be for how appallingly it transcribed my flowing, spoken words? My rolling Northern Irish accent … Continue reading Finding My Way
My Edinburgh Press 