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Touching and poignant. I could see the silks laid out on the bed like a pattern of a life. Tracey Emin eat yer heart out.

It's the letting go that's the key to sanity. Separating oneself from one's art is difficult but necessary unless the artist has a very strong, deeply embedded sense of self and reality. That's why I reckon it's best to complete a novel in one foul swoop; gouge it out quickly yet meticulously and then return to life, clean up the wounds and massage it into place over time. Look at Amy Winehouse. She literally lived, and died, for her art. she just couldn't separate herself from her Novello awarded words. A true artist, for sure, but such a waste of life at the same time. Keep going, but if you feel yourself slipping away from what is most dear, make a decent choice, not that I'm worried for you or anything (he says). It's just that my first novel really flipped me out for quite some time. I really thought it was something. All the best Richard

If Zach (is he the Tucson man? my memory's bad) stays at the cottage, maybe it'll seem like a signal to Marnie to stay with you. Years ago, I rented a flat in London on the same sort of basis and then I found out the landlord, a raving alcy writer friend, was sleeping in the park so I got him to stay with me, in his flat, but it didn't work out. If the cottage is so nice in Summer, why would she want to let it out. This may be a good idea in Winter. I don't think you'd be helping Marnie if you did invite her to stay with you. She seems to be stuck in some sort of semi-delusional state, alcoholically distancing herself from her real thoughts, so that could be a next sub-plot (trying to get her clean). She's a good friend but it's starting to sound like co-dependence on a different level. You seem to be fighting to free yourself of her on all levels yet going going back and forth to be by her side on the island at the same time. She's a great read, no doubt about that, but she needs proper help which only certain people can give. She wouldn't go to a treatment centre or AA meetings and having you as a crotch is only enabling her to perpetuate her denial and self-fight. I hope in the next chapter you lay it on thick for her and tell her what you really think. She's obviously still got the large majority of her faculties, but they'll be fading fast if she continues to flush them down the pan. Perhaps she is suffering from early early dementia and chooses to deal with it by blocking it off, I don't know, but it's a hell of a read and, like Barry, I feel the time's right to get some idea of plot. This deserves to go somewhere (the writing's so visual and humorous), preferably in hardcopy so I can get it in one foul swoop and at my leisure. Have a coffee and a fag and look at nature. Empty your mind, and it'll come. You're a great writer.

I never know when I make a comment whether it'll be well received/taken the wrong way/maybe I said it wrong/ was I in a bad mood when I posted it? Ughh. To want to add to someone's writing because you've been immersed in it; that's the sign of great writing. You could never nick any ideas from me because they're free.

This reminded me why most endings in life are sad. We tend to exhaust the goodness of a relationship and forget to replenish it until there's nothing left but a black bin liner at a closed doorstep. Was just checking your earlier work and came across this. Great piece. All the best Richard

Good idea, Maisie. Maybe a donation should be payable if people want to highlight their work, but that might go against the ethos of abc.

'The happiest man in the world is least lonely when alone.'

Thanks to everyone for reading and your lovely comments. It means so much when a story hits the spot and I can't tell what they're like until you post a comment. This site is a revelation.

Hi Pia, No, I haven't given up the smoking just yet. Glad to hear you're well. Richard

Good question. A cynical optimist... isn't that a realistic idealist, which is probably the same as a pessimistic realist? The fact is, we feel and we care and we search for meaning in an ordinary world. That's the main thing.

I like black cherries more than red ones. Maybe the editors could use a black cherry to denote an above average piece that oozes that lush, smoky quality. Don't worry, it's the sun.

Nice one. Very simple and readable, and with the caring voice of a mother with big hopes for her children in da big bad world. No one teaches us how to be a parent. That's the beauty of it. I'm sure you're doing just fine.

Hi Rachel, yeah, this one plus perhaps two others if you can. Average time for a read is about eight mins, so I reckon three poems would work well. Brilliantly direct and honest advice from Fatboy. Writers are proud of their work so why shouldn't we enjoy reading it to people? I'm not getting all American about it but just remember how much people love your work. Richard

Procrastination; a dis-ease that arrests goodwill and progress without grace or warrant. Who said that? Me. You'll be there if you want to be. Off to read Goldilocks now

Hi Insert, Great editing feedback as can always be expected from your kind and prolific self. Ta for reading Richard

I can just see the protest at Senate House. Olly, Jacob, Henry, Spaz, Jemima, Georgie et al with wee bottles of Carluccio's olive paste and little tubs of M&S salmon pate in leather gloved hands at the ready. Golly gosh.What fighters in the face of an evil regime!! If it wasn't for the recession, they'd still be crawly-bum-licking to get the best jobs. Massive hypocrisy, but I'm loving it.. students in a tiz, poor devils!! Great story telling, Insert. You do have a way of riling me, endearing me and making me smirk while reading all at the same time. Cold turkey? Oh well. Deeds bust. Hope he gets through it and there's folk around. I'm sure Marnie could do with some company. She's closer to home.

Thanks for reading, Maggy. It was an eye opener being there. Last night I went to a beautiful party in the Umbrian hills and when YMCA came on they all did the dance perfectly! Made me remember my times there and heard the words in a totally diffrenet way, especially 'You can a good meal, you can do whatever you please'; my arse! The DJ played it twice and they were even more feverish the second time. Surreal. All the best Richard

i look forward to reading more of your work, Innes. It's a breath of fresh air.

Very gripping, and sympathetic to the notion that there may be a force inside each of us that decides whether a person's human spirit is strong enough to carry one through adversity. You write really well.

I hope you didn't think I was having a dig at women by my comment above, Richard. It was just an observation of natural life. I get astounded by the most ordinary things, like how we all have two legs and two arms. I was just trying (probably badly) that women are carriers (of life), and that they always seem to be carrying things is perhaps an extension of their natural instincts, ie. to carry. I liked the theme of your poem; the nature of things have always interested me.

cripes, I don't know how to delete the twaddle I wrote so can this replace it?

Thanks again, Rachel. In the same league as BFG? Dahl's my favourite children's writer so this is a fantastic compliment. Your kind words have encouraged me sufficiently to publish it as an text-only Blurb book (apparently publishers like it like that and prefer to team a writer with a suitable illustrator of their choice). As soon as I have copies I'll ask for your address and send you one. Cheers, Day-maker! Richard

lovely the way it goes from your past to the ancient past, dark and hard, and then on to the school gates with your lil gal and resting with a scratch to your head thinking about your missus. Go on, give her a big smacker of a kiss!

Lovely and insightful, I really liked with the way you portrayed the psychologist and feared the worst at the beginning. The girl's otherworldliness is powerful in that we tend to look forwards rather than backwards for enlightenment, as if the past taught us nothing. For the last few months, I have had an undeniable urge to go to Israel and see it through my own eyes, so I know I should go. I love the unwavering mindset of the girl. She's free as a bird.

Your work reminds me that I have a way to go yet. I kept thinking that Brett's mother would flip at Father Nicholas. Some people are put are on the planet for higher purpose; it's usually the indignation of ambitious parents that takes them off it before their time, but Mrs Goldberg was made of stronger stuff.

You were had there, Will. Still, they could have pinned a nice little knife-attack or robbery on you, I suppose, if it tied in nicely with circumstantial evidence. Maybe they couldn't find anything to fit on you. You could have at least asked the copper if you could buy the dope back off him for a discount. You never know. These folk are mighty nice. ....and to think that some people are worried about the prospects of anarchy. The world is run by organised anarchy anyway.

Thanks Rob. I didn't make the longlist for 50 stories but noticed yours is in there so I'm off to read it now. Well in.

David, Railway Children is as much a revelation as Abctales. That they've both been presented to me at this time in my life is a real positive. I'm very much looking forward to meeting you. Richard.

Been thinking. If there was a cricket pitch somewhere close to or in Brighton, there would be the added bonus of a pavilion. If it was rainy, the event could take place in the pavilion. Rain's a dampener but a cancellation's even worse, and very costly for nothing. Cricket pavilions are cheap to hire, usually set in very pretty surroundings, accessible and undercover. I know for a fact that marquees are at least £1500 but if a pavilion was hired, an add-on length of tarpaulin of maybe 70m sq would cost peanuts comparatively and could be attached to the pavilion. This would allow the pavilion to be used as a stage (on the outer-deck) with a buffet-area inside, while the shade of the extravagant tarp could provide people a place to have picnics. Pavilions always have bogs too!

I'm working on a novella about a wall at a fictional national trust estate called Neesup Hall. I'll be posting it soon. Of course it was tastefully chalked up on a hand-painted board. Even more sick-making! Day's been great but Arsenal gave it away in the dying seconds. Apocalypto's on BBC2 tonight.

Wow. You stopped me in my tracks here. Very well carved out with wonderfully descriptive imagery. Watching Britain's Property Scandal on C4 and now this. Poverty's been big business for quite some time. I'm sure you've read it but get The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell. Another shocking read about 'the good old days' is A Hoxton Childhood. That one was written by my grandma's brother. Well done with this poem. I think it's a good choice for POTW.

Thanks for reading, Pia and Sundays

Thanks for reading, Rachel and Rob. All the best Richard

Cherries have enjoyed a bumper year. Considering that 90% of the UK's cherry orchards have been axed over the past fifty years, this season's tangy yield has been put down to the moist but warm spring and the dry, hot summer. I suggest you give yourself a well earnt treat and try these beautiful fruits. There's never been a better time.

I agree with Mangone. Let extremists be and they will eventually see their own lack of credibility. If the BNP had anything pertinent to say it would have been said last year when they had the chance. Although coverage was biased, they only diluted their message by being accepted in the political forum. As for Nazis, Germany will always try to rule Europe and be number one. They tried with the first world war, then the second world war and now that war is impossible to undertake in Europe (and they know they can't beat us), they had the brainwave of doing it with peace and monetary unification. What a coo! Again, their egotistical plight to make everyone as boringly efficient as they are has fallen flat on its face and the Euro is nothing but aa damp squib in the water. In fact, it was dead years ago, when Holland and France voted no, and if the German and British people were asked to vote they too would say no. But how can a person or govt change when they are in denial, lost in a battle of inferiority and superiority? It's impossible. When everyone's told Germany to stuff their master-plan so they can get on their lives, the shit will hit the fan because they don't like to lose. My hope is that the world community goes bankrupt and starts to look within at their own problems, rather than seeking to control and be answerable to the wonderful accountability of a global community. If we put the nations of Europe together in a line for a photo shoot, using one ordinary person as representative of each country's persona, we'd be a sorry sight; fag in mouth, phone in hand, eyes avoiding the camera, feet shuffling and thoroughly unkempt. Denmark has the cleanest system in the world because of high (and relatively well spent)taxes, so it's surprising that alcoholism is on a par with Britain. I'd put it down to the weather. As for Fox news, just don't bother watching it, Mangone. You know what it does to you. Just let it be, and they lose one unhappy customer. Let's call it Fox With The Head.

This is really good. Captures the costly effects of a delusional egomaniac well past his best and living on borrowed time. SOTW by a long way for me. Hopefully Jezzer'll lose his job, his wife and his house and wake up on some slagheap outside Glasgow after being thrown in by Soho hoodlums on a blackout.

keep em coming. I don't have a dictionary but I'll take your word for it and stand corrected on the petrification of wood. I love that silvery grey look. It's the most beautiful lived in look in the world.

same again

Hi Oldron, I don't know what'll happen but I'll keep writing about injustice. The age-old problem of Europe seems to have come full circle from the early 1930's, when the 1929 stock market crash led to the Depression. This brought about soul-searching and idealism, just as we're seeing now around the world. The anger of the people is aimed at capitalism, just as it was back then, but in the end there was no resolution and we were given WW2. This time is like the endgame (potentially much more dangerous) because the capitalists have been sucked up all the world's money (our money) and left 95% of us with very little. The divisions and loyalties of each country are much the same now as back then, with France and Germany, mother and father of Europe, telling off their children in a show of muted togetherness, warning of punishment for bad behaviour to those who don't comply with their wishes. The fact is, the euro is an unwanted gift. Just as back in the 30's, Britain is allied most closely by America and, now more than ever, Israel. This time, Germany has imposed its domination by forcing on the EU a single currency that nobody wants (which is the modern way of physically overpowering neighbouring member states, as it did with the past two wars). It all comes back to the same two things; money and integration. Integration is a fine concept, but in reality each European country's identity is so strong that any formally federal ideology coming to fruition may never be possible unless, of course, by force, and even then only until it is put right. New world integration was different in North America. They had a clean slate, apart from the Indians that were trounced, but Europe's marriage has always been marred by conflicting faiths/belief systems and its member states remain happier divorced. The prospect of remarriage is as sad and romantic as the dreamy Liz Taylor and the beautifully alcoholic Richard Burton; two extremely talented actors who found co-dependence more powerful than love. If only they could have loved themselves, they may have had a chance to truly love each other. The problem rests, though, with money. As with 1929, the crash of 2008 found that all developed nations were in debt (to the power elite, who remain a nameless, invisible body). Much like all mortal deities whose God is money, the power elite's actions are carried out by their puppets (MPs) and their intentions are hidden (from the people), and we all know what happens at the end of films like Wall Street; the shyster gets found out. That is when the shit will really hit the fan, because each developed nation is corrupt from top to bottom, and those who are guilty of perpetuating the corruption (ie. almost every MP and lawmaker in power since we can remember) will not wish to be linked to the problem. They will not want to take responsibility for their actions and they certainly won't want to suffer the consequences, so rather than accepting responsibility, blame will be conveniently attached to other nations, seeking a war of attrition to erase the truth and exonerate themselves. The problem with this is that ordinary people suffer most of all during the war and when the dust finally settles, they are faced with going through the whole cycle of corruption again until the next time it implodes. People deserve more than this, and they deserve to know the truth so that we can start afresh next time.

Lovely writing. I'd like to know what Matthew's problem was, but, in the context of the story, that's secondary to the writer's state of mind. Captures young love really well and makes me want to conjure something of the same ilk. Two cherries in a day. That's some going, but to be honest, you deserve it.

Just read the lot in one foul earthling swoop. The exercise of doing 200 words at a time has concentrated, and given meaning to, each section. This has made the most of each sentence. It reads well between each and did the job of gripping me very well. If this was a novel, chapters 1-15 would probably make a very good introduction as chapter 1. I'm glad I read it in one go. Nice one

05.42 is especially good. Well made.

Just torn through 'Runaway' by Skye Sinclair and this piece placed me back with Skye at the part when she's in Paris aged about seventeen, experiencing her first lesbian love after becoming appalled by men. It's a harrowing read but very rewarding (she always stands up for herself and other vulnerables, her aggressors never take her spirit) and she has angels with her all the way. I'd strongly recommend it, not so much as a literary work as for its frighteningly adventurous beauty. It's 180 mph. All the best Richard

Ta for reading, OP, Magic, Scozen, Chris and Julie. We're only as sick as our secrets! All the bombastic best, Richard

I hope you do get round to tinkering/adding to this. There's so much delicious incidental humour thrown in that high emotive value is able to trickle into the reader's mind, allowing for his/her own purposes of expansion and identification. What I love most about this story is the journey you take us on. It starts in an uneasy present full of sentiment and loss, then drifts off into past experience which seems regrettably unresolved/unravelled in the narrator. It drips in pathos and a sense of hopelessness but easily manages to get away with it because of the humour (which the narrator has somehow managed to retain). The trick with stories as excellent as this is the (in my opinion, desperate) need to revert back to the present tense where the thread started for the reader to follow. It's crying out for the loop to be respectfully reattached, and without it the string of life is left dangling in the air. It's just too good for half measures, so treat me why not. As Alan Bennett puts the Queen to say in his 'The Uncommon Reader', 'Etiquette may be bad, but embarrassment is worse'. I'm only trying to tease your fingers towards your keyboard. All the brilliant best Richard

Buff it up some, self-publish and reserve me a copy, please. There's way too much good writing on this site but my eyes don't like computers. I increasingly feel that I should be doing something else that must be really important when I'm on the computer, but I eat books for brekkie and love to go to bed with them. My posture's better with a book, too.

This is so good it's killing me. Do I know you? You'd have a hoot with my ex. Honestly now, you hit the mark perfectly, and he's still reeling from the impact. Enough to drive a man to .. sobriety? A few wee tweeks and this is my POTW. So much raw talent on this site. Well in!

Thanks very much for all the comments everybody. I really appreciate your reading it.

Nice one, Rob. Especially liked 'blind man's hallucination' (conjured sparkling images) but this whole series of bite-sized chunks is riddled with faultlessly descriptive English. You haven't put a foot wrong throughout and I can see why you'd like to have it done with animation. This is right up my mate Chris' street but you'll have to wait cos he's taking an eternity to finish my kids story. Worth the wait as you'll see.

It's a who from me and a who from you. I wondered whose perspective this neat little poem was written from. I don't mean to be rude in any way but is it meant to be by a sex-worker or am I barking up the wrong tree?

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