Tag Archives: John Simmons

An anniversary

There’s something perversely appropriate about the fact that the darkest Christmas period I can remember (I’m speaking meteorologically here), should have heralded the year in which Dark Angels celebrates its tenth anniversary. Though there is actually nothing dark about Dark … Continue reading

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Nine years

It’s nine years since the very first Dark Angels course took place at the Arvon writers centre at Totleigh Barton in Devon. Even more amazingly, it seems to me, it’s seven since we held our first advanced course on the … Continue reading

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Human and humane

I started this blog exactly four years ago, on 18th August 2009. I think it would have surprised me then to know that I would still be going four years later. In that first post I wrote this: ‘I want … Continue reading

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As I Died Lying

Last autumn, John, Stuart and I, the three Dark Angels (d’archangels as we’ve now been christened by the endlessly inventive Faye Sharpe – see link to the Secret Archaeologist in the blogroll below), had a mad idea. It was a … Continue reading

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Spit and polish

Today we’re setting off to Balavil, a large house in the Highlands, on our maddest Dark Angels adventure to date – an attempt by 15 writers to produce a collective novel (I’ve mentioned it in previous posts). We obviously won’t … Continue reading

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The next big thing

I’ve been persuaded by my fellow Dark Angel John Simmons to take part in something known as The Next Big Thing. It’s described as an author blog chain. This is how it works. I answer the questions below and ‘tag’ … Continue reading

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Leading and following

I listened to a talk the other day by Mark Robb, a former member of the M&S business recovery team – the firefighters who got the retailer out of the hole it had fallen into during the late nineties. He … Continue reading

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Swedish angels

Something extraordinary happens on Dark Angels courses. People who don’t even think of themselves as writers discover that the simplest of words have a power to connect beyond their wildest imaginings. And the connections they make are not only with … Continue reading

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Into the light

Today I felt like a bear emerging from hibernation. I left the house at six-thirty to catch the early Edinburgh train. It was a crystal clear morning, fields and roofs dusted with a light frost. Cock pheasants preened themselves in … Continue reading

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Breaking up is hard to do

I’ve been dismembering one of my books, painstakingly taking it apart, page by page, so that each comes away from the glue of the spine cleanly, a perfect rectangle. It’s a strange, not entirely comfortable, feeling. The book in question … Continue reading

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