Before I became a photographer, I was a writer. I’ve been a writer my whole life.
There have been poems and short stories, a miscellany of abandoned novels, a fistful of penpals (genuinely, at one point there were around 50 of them!). I’ve written song lyrics, short plays, attempted a screenplay (and may have pinched my all-time favourite screenwriting book from the local library…) and have one failed attempt at NaNoWriMo to my name. I’ve sat up all night writing and then I’ve spent almost 15 years writing nothing more than shopping lists and text messages when what shall remain to be known as the worst Writer’s Block in living memory (ok, just mine…) plagued me.
That’s when photography kicked in. But it turns out I’m not just about images. I still love my words!
In late 2017, I signed up to do a degree through the Open University – A BA (Hons) Arts & Humanities (Creative Writing), to give it its full title. And suddenly it was like a tap had been turned back on.
The words are still there. I’m just learning how to use them again.
Here is a collection of some of my words I’ve written, just for me, over the years. I do not promise that they are any good but hey, you might get some enjoyment out of them.
Should you wish to contact me – to praise or critique my words, then use the button below. Depending on how nice you are, I may or may not reply 😉
A Beach Baptismal | Life Writing I’ve always hated sunbathing. All that prickling skin from sticky heat mixed with slimy sun cream, salt and sand while screaming children kick it all up around you… what’s enjoyable about that? And then swimming in the sea –...
Entitlement "I'll sit right here and watch the tide go out and in," the woman sighed. Beneath the aqua sky she stayed and breathed salt air the ocean made as seagulls squawked and walked the dunes she was content. She hummed her tunes, whiling away the...
Blues and Twos animated: societythrew me up again todaynow I'm just the bile that stains your pillowcase (apology)what wonderful delights will grace my presence this afternoon? dried, encrustedyou scratch me off abandoned I'll remain under your fingernail another...
Two Point Four Clocks and commuter trains dictate your lifeMeetings in bored-rooms, then home to the wifeBudgets and payments balance on the knifeWelcome to your two point four adult life The kids scream for more when there's just no cashSunday you're part of the...