Dylan and Orwell. Different times. Different genres. But both were lighthouses beaming out shimmering brilliant words to light the way. I was in hospital aged 14 with a cracked skull after a tree fell on my head during a lightning storm in Epping Forest. My dad gave me a copy of 1984 while I was […]
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Writing by Hand
Writing by hand in the days of keyboards has become an art form, an anachronism, even an act of anarchy. When you write with a pencil you can smell the graphite, with a pen the resins, wax and precious oils. The words as they loop across the page awaken something emotional and vaguely nostalgic. For […]