I reverse-engineer morsels of reality and extract their meaning. I then inject this concentrate into carefully assembled words and hope for a positive outcome. In other words, I’m a writer. But isn’t everyone? I bet even your cat is. And if you’re thinking ‘But I don’t have a cat’, check your study. He’ll be there, typing. (If you’re now thinking ‘But I don’t have a study,’ that cat is doing some serious Derren Brown shit on you.)
I have had some things published. I would like more things published. I write fiction and sometimes haiku.
I am currently working on a novel, Resuscitating God, set in London during the tumultuous July of 2005. Kamran, a virginal student, has lost his faith and is looking for meaning. Could he find it in Lily – a ‘telephone hostess’ and the personification of sex, experience and hedonism?
I live in beautiful Oxfordshire, where I will sometimes slouch behind my desk watching deer out of the window and call this ‘writing’.
When asked, I say I write literary fiction and it’s not a term I like. All I mean by it is this: I write whatever stories I am inspired to, they aren’t always in a particular genre, and I write them as well as I can.