Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Last Thursday, endeavouring to address a recent indifference towards and break from writing, I participated in a writers 'Open Mic' evening in Harrogate. This clambake afforded eleven fellow authors and myself opportunity to showcase our literary wares. The event offering its audience a tempting mix of poetry, thought provoking and irreverent fiction, along with comedic... Continue Reading →
Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money. As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated... Continue Reading →
In one of his trademark offbeat observations on the BBC TV gameshow ‘Would I Lie To You?”, likeable funny man Bob Mortimer claimed the distant memories he was about to recount were like “Fingerprints on an abandoned handrail.” This humorous, but idiosyncratic, observation describing how he only had vague memories of the absurd yarn he... Continue Reading →
This morning, as I tentatively peeled back door 10 of a homemade advent calendar gifted by my partner Sarah, yours truly was greeted by the word ‘Bollocks’. Her mischievous cardboard festive trinket bearing 24 curse words, each carefully chosen from my beau’s vast swearing vocabulary. These off-colour greetings hidden behind numbered doors haphazardly carved on... Continue Reading →
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... Continue Reading →
Due to an erratic night’s sleep, I awoke this morning staring through bleary eyes, accompanied by a hazy brain fog. My neurological peasouper leading to such marked cognitive disorientation, I experienced an outer body experience. An episode where I floated in my bedroom, looking down on my 5’ 11” frame. A disturbing event not aided... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, as a writing workshop exercise, we were encouraged to escribe via the medium of sensory awareness. The remit to produce fictional prose relaying our experiences after being placed in an induced coma. This state affording use of all your senses apart from sight and speech. So, in a nutshell, the literary challenge was to... Continue Reading →
After two years of retirement, I'm seriously contemplating dipping my toe back into the pool of paid employment. Don't get me wrong, since taking my pension early I have spent my time in a productive and a predominantly verve filled times. However, of late I've decided I spend an unhealthy amount of time on my... Continue Reading →
Working with this week's topic prompt of ‘The Walk’, my mind wandered to a recent discussion at a writing workshop I attend on a bi-weekly basis. This whimsical exchange relating to the merits, or otherwise, of an upcoming naked stroll scheduled to take place at a nearby North Yorkshire town. Let me start by admitting my understanding of this... Continue Reading →