January 1st, 2012
I love resolutions, and sometimes I even stick to them. I reckon everyone could take the time to sit down and think of a new things they’d like to do differently in 2012. Even if we don’t fully achieve these goals, it’s good to feel like we’re moving in the right direction.
My ambitions are not grand, I know. I’m happy with the way my life is at the moment, so I don’t feel the need to try for any huge changes – but there are always things that can be worked on! Here are my resolutions:
- Stand up straight.
- Spend one Sunday per month lying in bed, reading books and watching films.
- Practise grace, kindness, and passion in all things.
What would you like to do differently in 2012?
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December 19th, 2011
I wrote a smutty, Virgin Mary-themed flash fiction called ‘Sex Lives of the Saints’, and you can read it at Tawdry Bawdry. Hope you enjoy it! Here’s a sneak preview:
Just so she doesn’t think I’m hopeless, I run my fingertip along her neck: a raised white scar, soft as fog, the width of a match.
‘My father,’ she says. ‘He was hit by lightning.’
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December 15th, 2011
Dad died two months ago today. Every day I am thankful that he raised me on the principles of kindness, curiosity and fearlessness. I will always try to live my life in a way that would make him proud.

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December 8th, 2011
I’m delighted to announce that I have an agent!
Francesca Barrie at Johnson & Alcock will be representing my first novel, Rust and Stardust, as well as (hopefully) whatever comes next. Short story collection? Novella? Genderqueer burlesque mime show? Watch this space…
Posted in Rust and Stardust, Writing | 6 Comments »
November 24th, 2011
She says: Flex your knuckles. Drop to your knees. Make me unmaid.
He says: You want a prince’s esteem, you want gallantry and grace.
She says: Princessing is not a process. I have skirts to be lifted.
He says: You have not checked under mine.
She says: Oh, now you complicate.
S/he says: Kings in tiaras, queens in the mud. We drew the line ourselves.
S/he says: I do not want to cut my hair.
S/he says: So don’t. We’ll make bridges of it.
S/he says: Skin can still cover secrets. You, I, we.
Saying: Unprincessed, unkinged.
Saying: Unmaidened, unmanned.
—
This is an entry for the Mookychick blogging competition, FEMINIST FLASH FICTION 2011. Enter now.
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November 24th, 2011
open your mouth wide wider
make sure they can hear that scream
all the way to the back of the cinema. aim
to deafen the projectionist.
look behind you when you run up to the attic
or down to the basement or whichever way
leads to snapping jaws. turn to the camera so your hair
flips just right. pull
your dress tight so your tits bounce.
leave a trail of potential weapons
dropped from your shaking hands.
you must always make it easy for him to follow.
later there will be a girl who will grab a weapon
and not let go. but this is only the third scene. you
are axe-fodder. you should not have
fucked smoked cursed filled the shape of a woman.
next time only sign on if your character has a boy’s name.
—
This is an entry for the Mookychick blogging competition, FEMINIST FLASH FICTION 2011. Enter now.
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