I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking ‘Eh? Eh!? Dan only writes once a month these days, and even then it’s usually half-arsed’. Yes, friend, you are right. But I feel a smidgeon bit inspired today, and lo: words. Continue reading
bristol
Lockdown Diary: The Anti-Glib
This one’s a little bit of a jumble. Stream of consciousness or whatever. Love you x
Lockdown Diary: Electric Worlds
Firing up an old video game is like opening a time capsule. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: A Germaphobic Jaunt
Yesterday Jeanne and I took our daily lockdown walk, and we went a little further than usual. It was March the last time I walked further than the Arches down Gloucester Road. Since then, all our late afternoon strolls have seen us weaving through suburbs, exploring sleepy avenues and cul-de-sacs. On a whim, however, last night we decided to continue on, right the way down to the harbourside we’ve not seen in so very long. What a bleeding mistake that was. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: God Help Me, I’ve Started Appreciating People’s Lawns
Today is my 34th day indoors. Well… ish. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: Bald and Unproductive
Well, I burst at the first hurdle, didn’t I? After ending my last diary entry with the optimistic ‘I think I’ll write again tomorrow 😊’, I did not write a word for a full week.
I did not do it because I did not feel like doing it, and instead of being productive I got drunk for three days in a row. It was a choice that made sense at the time. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: Yeah It’s Happening
My mum recommended I write while we’re all in lockdown. So here we find ourselves! Continue reading
Bristol: Lonely Boy
How do you meet people? Continue reading
Bristol: Poison and Punch Ups and Jacob Marley’s Ghost
Plenty has happened in a relatively short space of time – relative, that is, specifically to the age of me, Dan, rather than the Byzantine Empire or the moon or a housefly, because these things would throw that qualifier way out of whack. Come to think of it, I wish I’d not used it. But then if I only said ‘in a short space of time’, you might have thought I meant twelve minutes, or a nanosecond, and that would be ridiculous. So here, let me try again: a lot has happened in the last two weeks (Earth weeks, naturally). Continue reading
Bristol: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dan
I’ve always felt one of the surest signs of a writer in a rut is that they start writing about writing. Hi there, I’m Dan.