Tag Archives: Writing

What’s With Words?

It was with some pride that i first introduced myself as a writer, although it took a number of years before i stopped feeling too fraudulent. It was a badge, i figured, i had a reason to take. I write … Continue reading

Posted in Words | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Story Machine

Stories don’t come from a machine: they come from people. They’re not stamped out of steel, but rather crafted around a campfire. Or in a corner. Or on the train. Or over Facebook. Stories are not available on demand, but … Continue reading

Posted in Stories, Storytelling | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Iteration

My work is iterative: never complete, constantly evolving. Sometimes i talk about #WorkingOutLoud, but it’s more than that. It’s about being unafraid to share ideas half formed, in the hope that the community will help you gain the momentum and … Continue reading

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The blowing of boundaries

That should have read “blurring“, but today I’m dictating the blog to my iPad for the first time. That means you’re likely to see more errors than usual. But maybe not that many. Because the technology is progressing fast, it’s … Continue reading

Posted in Change | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Colour of Magic

A great artist doesn’t paint a face: they frame a space that we see the face within. A few deft lines delineate empty paper from empty paper and yet, somehow, the face exists. Terry Pratchett would write like that: creating … Continue reading

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Voices

Whispering in the wind, echoing through hallways, buzzing like an angry fly down a bad phone line or whispered tenderly late at night. Voices of purpose and intent, voices that implore or beg us to take action, bullying or directive … Continue reading

Posted in Communication | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Grounded by the mud on my boots

Fire forms the beating heart of the house: by day, just a background image, flickering weakly, demanding food every few hours. By night though, as the darkness crawls up the side of the valley, it reaches out: a red flame, … Continue reading

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