They were saying that I’d lost my edge. After ten years the angst and dread that had infused my early paintings and established my, rather tenuous, notoriety in the art world had largely dissipated. Not wanting to repeat myself after my early success I, naturally, sought other more mature modes of expression and arrived at
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Ronnie MacKenzie’s gangly body tripped across his bedroom giddily. When he reached the closet, he flung open the door and grabbed hold of his old suitcase that Grandpa Angus had brought over from the old country. The black color was terribly faded now, and the metal pieces were showing rust, but in the end, how
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1. Do not assume that just because the story ends with the man and the woman not living happily ever after that the author has problems in her own relationships. 2. A cat can sometimes be just a cat. It is not necessarily a metaphor for death, or motherhood, or even Derrida’s theory of Difference.
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“You’ll never make anything of yourself, Brian Boggis.” That’s what my old teacher used to tell me – which always felt a bit strange as my name’s Brian Pollock. Still, I’m sure he meant well. But you know what? I think I’m about to prove him wrong. I’m writing a novel. A thriller. They say
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I’m beginning to have this uncomfortable feeling that I’ve been cheating on my wife. It began a couple of months with a website offering information on “how to catch a cheating spouse.” Harmless enough – until you read the warning signs: 1. Spouse has been hiding the cell phone or ducking into another room to
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