Poets Go Through A Very Tough Apprenticeship

A Novel, In The End, Is A Container, A Shape Which You Are Trying To Pour Your Story Into.

I Wish I Was Away In Ingo Far Across The Briny Sea Sailing Over Deepest Waters Where Neither Care Nore Worry Trouble Me

As Individuals, We Are Shaped By Story From The Time Of Birth; We Are Formed By What We Are Told By Our Parents, Our Teachers, Our Intimates.

If We Understand The Past, We Are More Likely To Recognise What Is Happening Around Us.

Reread, Rewrite, Reread, Rewrite. If It Still Doesn’t Work, Throw It Away.