I don’t like the term “creative writing” when used to describe novels, short stories, poetry, drama and certain kinds of non-fiction; it implies that there are certain kinds of text that do not require creativity in order to qualify as “good writing”.

For this reason, I am grouping my poetry and prose fiction together under the rather obscure heading of “hearth” – a reference to PB Shelley’s description of poetry as an “unextinguished hearth”. Poetry in particular, and literary art in general, is spectacularly undervalued nowadays. It has been for some time. Things aren’t helped by the fact that many people who lay claim to the title of “novelist” or “poet” are actually bland, pretentious or simply bad writers. Who knows? Perhaps I am one of them.

Notwithstanding this possibility, I believe that (to adapt Shelley’s metaphor) the fire is still burning, and I will keep on adding my coals and twigs to the blaze when time and inclination allow. I haven't written anything recently, but you can click below to read a few pieces I wrote some years ago.