The working life of a professional writer is not exciting. You write. You read what you have written. You sigh. You try again until, with luck, something passable appears on the page or screen before you. Now and then – again, with luck – you get published. Rows or bust-ups in the little world of… Continue reading ‘Play nicely, children,’ said the Society of Authors …. They didn’t.
Read moreIt is summer in the southern hemisphere, where I am seeing in the New Year, but now and then a cold, sour blast from the north reminds me of home. One of the on-line messages, left in response to an article I had written in the Independent about the limitations of Twitter, expressed sarcastic amusement… Continue reading Oh, yuk, he writes for children…
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