It’s been a long time since my last acceptance, and I couldn’t be happier that I have another story out in the world!
The Green Grave is a work of flash fiction (a story under 1000 words) and it is a short tale of a fantastical shipwreck. I originally wrote it for a writing and art competition with the writing community Globe Soup. Writers could choose one of the paintings and create a story around it.
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At the beginning of this year, I felt a sense of momentum. This is it; I told myself. This is the one.
This year, I will recover.
I don’t know how or when, but I will.
I borrowed a book on recovery from the library, and have been slowly making my way through it. Taking in the knowledge and trying to apply it to my fatigue-addled brain and life.
… Chronic Illness Chronicles #4 – Rebuilding the house
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Well, it has been a while…
Longer than I meant it to be, but fatigue makes its own rules.
Today, however, I am back! Spring is in the air, and I’m feeling inspired today to write about the intrinsic link between disability and creativity. In my experience, disability and long-term illness go hand-in-hand with creativity, as we navigate a world which is often not designed with us in mind.
… Chronic Illness Chronicles #3 – The joy of pasta
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Ahh, The Jolly Postman – that most soothing and escapist of children’s books…
A firm favourite of mine as a child; it has truly stood the test of time, both in terms of commercial sales, and in terms of my personal connection to it. It is still a book I find myself turning to from time to time; drawing comfort from the drawings and envelopes and my many happy memories of having it read to me.
… Chronic Illness Chronicles #2 – The Jolly Postman
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I’m very passionate about nature, and it’s a key influence that’s always cropping up in my work, my head, my heart… a constant part of me.
It brings me great joy and peace; it helps me stay calm. It reminds me that I live in a world designed with incredible detail, and much of it is detail I can’t see. There are entire micro-worlds hidden below the soil and nestled in the hollows of trees that I may do my best to notice and consider my impact on,
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