It’s summer and hopefully you have a bit of time on your hands, so use it well and […]
Memoir
Every late autumn, early winter, I get to thinking about Canadian musician Mac DeMarco. His woozy, chiming, angular, […]
In an effort to stave off breakdown, writer, critic and editor of the (now sadly defunct) Bookslut Jessa […]
Recognition: the known way the sky opens as you drive up and over the level crossing, that awkward […]
On Thursday June 22nd we present our first The Real Story: Live event of 2017 at Gullivers. We’re delighted […]
In leafy, liberal Providence – capital of Rhode Island, America’s smallest state – the talk at dinner is […]
Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy, we wrote, on the squares in our maths books, […]
With its massive lion-claw feet and its huge bulk covered in worn brown leather, my mother’s old chair […]
And I walk with abandonment, want to walk it off. Needing to distract myself. I anaesthetise myself with my child. I feed her. I change her. I play with her. I comfort her in the night. This night is different. She’s not here. I can’t anaesthetise myself from life. I can’t distract myself. I think – mental pain suffuses me. I take pictures – this distracts me. And maybe it’s true of everyone. We distract ourselves not to feel.
Today’s date had been circled on my calendar for weeks. It would be my first solo drive, […]