Chev

I am a man of simple tastes. Give me sight of a beguiling smile, visions of a ‘Six bottles of wine for the price of Five’ sale sign, or the sound of a woman saying, “Ok, Gary, I’ll rescind my restraining order application!” and I’m in clover. For most of my adult life I barely procured…

Birthday

Yesterday witnessed the birthday of one GJ Strachan from Wakefield parish. A low-key day celebration wise seeing the hirsute mischief maker attend an online working group, embark on a shopping centre visit, along with an afternoon at the park with his beau, her grandson and dog.  My evening at home was quiet, watching YouTube clips…

The Explorers

Afternoon on the last Tuesday of March 2024 – Two intrepid brothers set off in a campervan into the unknown. Forecasts of cold temperatures and unforgiving precipitation not deterring the latter-day Scott and Shackleton from embarking on their voyage north.  And why would upcoming intemperate weather dent their fortitude; after all, they had a furry…

Open Mic Night

Yesterday evening, a bohemian vegetarian café in Harrogate saw my inaugural attempt at reading my prose in an open mic night. This literary virginity lost when orating a 1000-word narrative parodying my wedding ceremony, in 1988. As I have shared some of the unreliable memories beforehand via blog, not a 100% new monologue. However, following…

Colourful

Confronted with a topic prompt of ‘colour’ for this literary piece, two different storylines sprung to mind. Those options, waxing lyrical about newly sprung colour from spring’s dawning, or, alternately, relaying tales of the colourful language frequently utilised by my Ossett beau Sarah.  After a period of contemplation, I decided that although daffs, crocuses and…

A Parody

Perched in a south Leeds café, it has been a productive morning writing wise; culminating in me completing a 1,000-word submission for a writing group while. The topic prompt of ‘colour’ stirring my creative juices, subsequently, spawning an endearing yarn about my partner’s colourful language. I may share this pastiche of old potty mouth’s scattergun…

What Next?

After abandoning a novel project whose storyline was not flowing as desired, I recently wrote about sitting at a writing crossroads. My decision to postpone the work taken despite spending hundreds of hours constructing the piece.  As revealed in the last narrative, a decision which has not left me overly downhearted. After all, I am…

A Horrible Habit

I am plagued by jawbone discomfort as I pen this narrative. A self-inflicted facial injury, the consequence of my long-term habit of grinding the mandible (lower bone) against the skull joint.  As the act of grating the jaw makes me gurn, it’s a tick I thankfully only carry out in the privacy of my own…

Nebbing

I’m back on the road when writing today’s blog.  Incidentally, when alluding to ‘writing on the road’ yours truly means penning this missive away from my apartment. Clearly, am not referring to creating this prose at the wheel of my moving car, or that I am sitting in the fast lane of the M1 motorway…