writing
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It wasn’t (just) what happened to you. It was the silence you had to keep. The silence you had to protect. The silence of the truth that could never be said. For Fridays Frosties. Keep the peace. Daddys not going to know about this. Daddys never here to love me like you doDaddys not able…
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‘Have you ever even bothered to think about men for a change? I’d like you to understand men better’ Theres a moment at the end of one of my favourite books Paulo Coelho’s ‘Eleven Minutes’ where the main character, ‘the coming of age learning love though prostitution’ Maria is confronted by a man Ralf (The…
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Thats the noise ive kind of made in the last few weeks as I’ve headed towards my 48th Birthday, which is today. A kind of deep, in the breath humming noise. A kind of wistful, soulful, pleasantly grateful feeling, of being 48. Definitely not relief of making it through another year thing, oh no, that…
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Therapy and Walks. Thats basically what I was doing for about 2 months, late 2023. And writing at weekends, using coloured pens and writing out the tiny starting shoots of a story, in the safe space of the bookstore coffee shop. Writing a book in a place of books and words, and in the place…
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I got to the Coffee shop After a walk that included more work chat. Sitting down. I Open the blank lined page Green tea poured. Red pen chosen. Ready. Tired. But ready, The page. Blank. Inviting. Alive with possibility. Daunting with expectancy. Weary limbs picking up the pen. Mind unsure. Facing the unknowingness of what…
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Its the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting (Paulo Coelho) ‘Whats the dream?’ once asked my university tutor, over eight years ago. It was a question I meekly answered, along the lines of ‘to be well known in theodrama’. It was the first time, aged 38 that I had been…
James Ballantyne 