As of last September I am not only a teacher but a fully-signed up, fifty-nine-year-old, doctoral student under the supervision of Lily Robert-Foley. On the 13th January 2025 a new remote course based on writing language memoirs opens for second-year undergraduates at Paul Valéry University. Here is the official résumé of the thesis. The working…
Once they are seated I begin: “Zanzibar, Shimmy, Shiver, Core, Strength, Fuck, Whatever” Question to class: What do you think this is? Silence. Then timidly. A list. A twirly-keep-going movement with my right hand. A list of words… What sort of words? My favourite words. Question to class: What does this say about me as…
The electricity was rewired in my study. Okay. You rewired the electricity in my study. Credit where credit is due. You rewired the electricity in my study whilst I was out. My first proper out since lockdown began. Why is that significant? Just so that people know clearly where their sympathies should lie. This out…
On a confined afternoon our writer sits at the kitchen table with a flower placed strategically in front of her. She has decided that today’s task is to describe the flower in a manner that will enable her readers to see the flower through her eyes. To visualise it. Maybe even catch a hint of…
Happy New Year to you all: fellow teachers, students, writers, friends, family, random internet readers, anonymous followers, … For your pleasure, this short story is a mischievous take on / a feminist rewriting of James Thurber’s ‘The Unicorn in the Garden’ A big thank you to my friend James Wright for the cover illustration. Kindle…