Why I write the strange, the quiet, and the beautiful

There’s a particular moment, just before the sun rises above the houses at the end of our street, when the light turns the treetops copper. The shadows stretch, the birds awaken, and for a breath or two, the world feels both ancient and oddly delicate. Like something could slip through a crack in the sky…

How did I get here?

​I’ve seen lots of writers, poets, librettists, and authors in the writing community share their ‘Writing Journey’, so here’s mine! At least what I remember of it. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, for sure. And it’s only when I see it all in a list that I realise how far I’ve come, and…