“To move as a river does, to be carried forward by my own unfolding.”
“I was twenty years old when I saw a man throw himself from a window. First dead body I’d ever seen. Let me tell you, real blood is nothing like the movie blood, and real death is nothing like the movie death.”
What Kind Of Animal – one writer’s response to Covid-19 and life under lockdown.
The Igby Prize for Nonfiction Winner about the woes and wonders of living in a town with no Wi-Fi.
A conversation between Agboola Timi and myself about the writing of The Centennial Game.
“Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess,
and you don’t find out til too late that he’s been playing with two queens all along.”
– Terry Pratchett
“A strange thing happened when Robin Williams hanged himself in 2014.”
Paige Nick and I talk about how technology has taken all the romance out of anniversaries, and how men (me) can barely remember their own Mother’s birthdays, never mind other special dates.
Yolisa Qunta and I chat about rocking a pair of crocs in public, chicks who wear heels bigger than your manhood and ‘undawear that’s funtawear.’
“And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work ’em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay
That made the breeze to blow!”
“There were tremors within him.
It began around his left eye, fifty five years ago, and she remembered the exact moment.”
Paige Nick and I talk about borrowing a friend’s pornography (or erotic literature) collection, how many times you can rub one out in a day before dying – and we cram in every obscure euphemism for masturbation we can think of.