Tag Archives: blog

The Dawn of a New Era

15 Sep

Image: Flickr (NS Newsflash)

As some of you may know, I’m starting an MA Journalism course at Kingston University next week, in the hope that it will lead to the real journalism job that I’ve been lusting after for as long as I can remember. In celebration of this, I’ve started a new blog, in which I’ll talk about journalism in general, and my MA journey in particular. I’ll be continuing to post reviews and creative writing here, but I’d be eternally grateful if you’d hop over to Destination Fleet Street and take a look at my new project!

A Quick Update

12 Mar

After posting nearly every day for almost two months, I’m aware that this blog has looked a little empty of late. My explanation for this is simple: I had a dissertation to write. But as of 10pm yesterday evening that is complete, all 8,000 words of it, and now a more regular posting schedule can begin.

Despite the stress, I have been watching some fantastic television recently (Upstairs Downstairs, anyone?) and I even escaped to the theatre yesterday evening to catch DULOG (that’s Durham University Light Opera Group for those not in the know) performing RENT. So over the next few weeks you can expect a review of that, as well as a few more reviews, and maybe even some creative writing. Don’t you all feel lucky?

Salzburg

27 Feb






Venice

23 Feb

Because I’m feeling both nostalgic for my Year Abroad and desperate to go travelling (anything but work) here are some pictures of Venice, one of my favourite cities!





Finchdale Priory 2 (Vertical Shots)

21 Feb

Finchdale Priory 1 (Horizontal Shots)

20 Feb

All photographs are my own work.

#DearValentine Week Three: His Moment

18 Feb


Prompt: a gun, a tuxedo, an abandoned fairground.


His Moment

He’s standing next to the carousel, the gun weighing heavy in his pocket. His mouth is dry, his palms sweaty, and he wipes them on the lining of his rented tux, hoping that his nerves aren’t as obvious as he thinks they are. This is his moment. He can’t afford to screw it up.

For the longest thirty seconds of his life there is silence, and he forces himself to remain in position, eyes trained on the gaudily-painted candyfloss wagon, until footsteps alert him to their arrival. He turns, smiles, faces the newcomer.

Drawing in a quick breath, praying for his voice not to fail, he speaks.

“Hello Jack.”

His hand darts to his pocket, withdraws the gun, holds it to the other man’s head.

“Goodbye Jack.”

A shot rings out, drowning out the sound of his pounding heartbeat.

Jack crumples to the floor.

Silence falls.

But a moment later the silence is broken again, this time by thunderous applause. It continues, and he remains frozen in place until the curtain falls.

He barely registers the next few minutes; standing in line with the rest of the cast members, bowing for the delighted audience. Slipping out of that awful tux and back into his comfortable jeans and hoodie. Congratulating the others, accepting their praise with as much modesty as he can muster. It’s a blur of happiness, and he doesn’t think that it can get much better.

But the door opens and she’s there. She ignores Ben Russell, considered by most of the female population of their school (along with some of the males) to be the sexiest man alive, and walks straight past Matt Davis, who is shirtless and displaying his impressive abs to the room at large. The girl of his dreams walks right up to him, throws her arms around his neck, and kisses him passionately.

He had thought that things couldn’t get much better. Now he knows they can’t.