Archive for August, 2009

The Magpie’s Nest

Posted in Non-Fictions on August 15, 2009 by Tom Fletcher

The Magpie’s Nest is the relatively new blog of jewellery maker, musician, photographer, writer and good friend Rowena. I recommend it. If you pay a visit, please leave her some comments in which you make puns about ‘Rowing the boat’, references to ‘Princess Hour’, or derogatory comments about pesto on toast.

Thank you!

 

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Fright Night

Posted in Non-Fictions on August 12, 2009 by Tom Fletcher

If you’re in or around Manchester come the end of September or beginning of October, all of this looks good. I’m reading with Nicholas Royle at Northern Lawn Tennis Club, Didsbury, Friday 2nd October. Our event is called ‘Fright Night’. I don’t know how we’ll frighten you, but we will. Probably by hiding outside and following you home with our hoods up.

If you follow the link above, you can have a look at the programme for more detail and to see what else is on. (There’s a lot on. That’s what.)

List #1

Posted in Fictions on August 12, 2009 by Tom Fletcher

Burma Shave is a fictional town invented by Tom Waits, named after a brand of shaving foam that he remembers being advertised on billboards in his youth, in the 1950s. Tom Waits is a genius, no matter how many people think so. I will judge you purely on what you wear. A low growl emanates from from your sound system despite it being turned off. It is the voice of a man. A wedding ring swept away by a wave. The sky turning to mud. A red-haired girl in the river. ‘ATUN’, ‘TIRRO’ AND ‘CASAS’ were words written on a Post-It note I found stuck to a cash machine. A pendant made of some bright metal. A role-playing game set in a 1960s vision of the future. It is unreasonable to expect anybody to be really, truly good. A tramp in a leather jacket points at the yellow cross hung around his neck. His mumbling grows louder as the sun goes down. The night sky is hot and wet. You can hear everything from your bedroom. You caught a seagull with your bare hands when you were thirteen. You twisted its head off and drank it dry. Everybody has at least one fundamental, life-destroying weakness. She wore a white bikini. The river was cold that day. The sun was bright. It hit you like a tin bucket.

New Pictures

Posted in Non-Fictions on August 12, 2009 by Tom Fletcher

I’ve added some more pictures to the ‘Fell House Parties’ album. As anybody who has looked will know, there is very little in the way of fells or houses or parties in that album; it’s just become a kind of repository for some really shoddy photographs.

 

When I say ‘really shoddy’, what I mean is ‘staggeringly awesome’, and by ‘awesome’ I mean ‘terrifyingly powerful’.

This is the link.

 

This is a taster:

Phone Pics (Summer 09) 050