The Silver Dawn Caravan Park I pulled in with low expectations and drove parallel to a little turd-strewn shingle beach. I was tempted by green lawns...
I go to baby yoga and dance class too tired to stare at the women and watch Martha cover her face in silk scarves and hop about like a rainbow ghost...
50 of my comments have received 57 Great Feedback votes
3 Votes
i can't understand the first
Posted on Tue, 11 Aug 2015
i can't understand the first para... there seems to be lots of typos:
Josh rubbed his three day stubble and looked turned towards Lyn, who smiled sternly.
The kids were being noisy and the traffic was heavy. A combination...
I really enjoyed the clarity of the writing, especially the 'insomniac sensory memory...' the power of an image to spring out at you in the present and clarify some aspect of the past. something you want to forget or had forgotten..The Dance...
brilliant, you make us in the first extract breathless and tense as the baby, and this world reads like some weird dangerous planet 'soaring carbon dioxide levels...' Brings home the jaw-dropping fragility with the trapdoor sealing itself of...
I love the echo from Futility the sun-warmed arms in the classroomand the sun that fails to wake the dead boy in France. Setting it in school gives added weight and poignancy to the cold clays being dragged and shaped and...
Great choice for story of the week. I particularly like the skill and ease of the transition from third person view point to Phyllis's interior, effortless and no hiccoughs-- hard to pull off.
this really struck a chord-- eating our parents before they devour us is the founding myth of civilization (that's what that guy said in the gents), blood guilt shackles us together. I like the way you've domesticated the details to a Sunday...
I'm so sorry to hear the latest news after all you've been through and I hope you feel better. You're a great advocate for why this site is different from other writing sites, all your thousands of thought out critiques-- I hope you get out...
Great sepia tinged snapshot of the insomniac dead and smouldering centuries old love story. nineteenth century feel-- the use of slightly archaic 'spectre.'
I cycle through Brompton cemetery on my way to work and yes there are even a few...
i can't understand the first
Posted on Tue, 11 Aug 2015
i can't understand the first para... there seems to be lots of typos:
Josh rubbed his three day stubble and looked turned towards Lyn, who smiled sternly.
Read full commentThe kids were being noisy and the traffic was heavy. A combination...
Posted in Whistle on the wynd part 1
I really enjoyed the clarity
Posted on Sun, 29 Dec 2013
I really enjoyed the clarity of the writing, especially the 'insomniac sensory memory...' the power of an image to spring out at you in the present and clarify some aspect of the past. something you want to forget or had forgotten..The Dance...
Read full commentPosted in Remembering M
brilliant, you make us in the
Posted on Wed, 30 Mar 2016
brilliant, you make us in the first extract breathless and tense as the baby, and this world reads like some weird dangerous planet 'soaring carbon dioxide levels...' Brings home the jaw-dropping fragility with the trapdoor sealing itself of...
Read full commentPosted in First Breath:Last Breath
I love the echo from Futility
Posted on Wed, 08 Jul 2015
I love the echo from Futility the sun-warmed arms in the classroom and the sun that fails to wake the dead boy in France. Setting it in school gives added weight and poignancy to the cold clays being dragged and shaped and...
Read full commentPosted in Chinook (Poetry Monthly)
Great choice for story of the
Posted on Wed, 06 Aug 2014
Great choice for story of the week. I particularly like the skill and ease of the transition from third person view point to Phyllis's interior, effortless and no hiccoughs-- hard to pull off.
The domestic details of dusting become cosmic...
Read full commentPosted in Dust
this really struck a chord--
Posted on Sun, 11 May 2014
this really struck a chord-- eating our parents before they devour us is the founding myth of civilization (that's what that guy said in the gents), blood guilt shackles us together. I like the way you've domesticated the details to a Sunday...
Read full commentPosted in Family Dinner
you've set a clock ticking in
Posted on Sun, 31 Jul 2016
you've set a clock ticking in me--- the metronomic fear of annihilation
i like the calm borne out of weakness that I can understand and the contradictions, you've said it all!
Read full commentPosted in Last Night
I'm so sorry to hear the
Posted on Wed, 20 Apr 2016
I'm so sorry to hear the latest news after all you've been through and I hope you feel better. You're a great advocate for why this site is different from other writing sites, all your thousands of thought out critiques-- I hope you get out...
Read full commentPosted in Bee's Journey
Great sepia tinged snapshot
Posted on Sun, 07 Feb 2016
Great sepia tinged snapshot of the insomniac dead and smouldering centuries old love story. nineteenth century feel-- the use of slightly archaic 'spectre.'
I cycle through Brompton cemetery on my way to work and yes there are even a few...
Read full commentPosted in My dead diary – Sunday 7th February
great idea, pasta facists and
Posted on Mon, 25 Jan 2016
great idea, pasta facists and also clear instructions how to get it right
can the relationship survive such sloppy linguine?
I'm a prawn cocktail facist
Read full commentPosted in Pasta Fascist
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