When I was a teenager, the wealth of stories my mother raised me on began to resonate more deeply. All of them — memories of her youth — were exciting, romantic, and drenched in settings that cried out to be immortalised by literature or cinema. By then, I was already writing humble novellas, short stories [...]
It’s Good Friday today. That might or might not mean anything to you. To be honest, it’s never meant much to me — despite my many attempts over the years to feel the solemnity of the day. But today, it does mean something. Today, the weight and permanence of death — and the hope of [...]
I don’t know if my brother liked Pink Floyd, but in many ways, he was a crazy diamond. There was a lot I didn’t know about him. My half-brother, to be correct. I didn’t even know he existed until I was eighteen, when my father told me about the son he'd had to a previous [...]
Here’s a poignant little poem from long ago, appropriate for today’s theme of love. The Lovers’ Dream To smile upon the moonlight streamAnd laugh and love was their only dream.To gaze contently and happ'ly sigh,No need to fret, to fear or sigh;Just to feel the night’s soft kissThat together wrapped their hearts in bliss,No need [...]
I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling deep waves of nostalgia whenever New Year’s Eve swings round yet again. Inevitably, I turn to my old diaries, digging them out of the wooden chest in my bedroom. And as I browse through the time-worn pages, I sink into a world gone by: timeless memories that are [...]
Before going any further, full disclosure. If you’re someone who hated your schooldays and never wants to be reminded of them, then maybe this blog post isn’t for you. But on the other hand, why not give it a go? My own schooldays weren’t exactly plain sailing – there were some pretty grim experiences, some [...]
My would-be father was murdered at the age of thirty. Peter Donald Fox, British journalist, shot dead on the beautiful island of Cyprus, the place where the goddess of love was born. But the terrorist who killed Peter was full of hate, not love. I don’t know what kind of gun he used, because the [...]
Wendy Skorupski 