There’s this guy who lives in my street. Called Dutch. Rides a motorbike. Looks like the type of cat who’s already gone through a few of his nine lives. Lives in the front half of a rented place at the bottom of the hill. Dutch, of course, is not his actual name. I don’t know […]
It will be the year of structure. I will make time to write, corral little chunks of hours. Things will be produced*. (*I will find an alternative to the passive voice to avoid that overexposed personal pronoun.) I have been guilty of calling myself a writer with little to back it up. Let’s be honest. […]
