Words of Cormac Mccarthy

“They rode on. The horses trudged sullenly the alien ground and the round earth rolled beneath them silently milling the greater void wherein they were contained. In the neuter austerity of that terrain all phenomena were bequeathed a strange equality and no one thing nor spider nor stone nor blade of grass could put forth claim to precedence. The very clarity of these articles belied their familiarity, for the eye predicates on some feature or part and here was nothing more luminous than another and nothing more enshadowed and in the optical democracy of such landscapes all preference is made whimsical and a man and a rock become endowed with unguessed kinships.”

CORMAC MCCARTHY
BLOOD MERIDIAN

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Yurik’s Prisoner: An Excerpt from Red Moon.

Whilst in India I have started to write a book.  I’m calling the book Red Moon and here’s an early excerpt.  The book centres around disappearances of young people in Goa.  The initial inspiration was supplied by some spooky events in Pondicherry.   This is the second post related to the book.  You can read the other by clicking the link at the end. Enjoy!  Or not as the case may be… Continue reading

out of work. Into life.

“Your forehead smells like a lost corridor, as you move towards the staff quarters of a Balearic hotel”. Pete.

Born on the day of verbal acuity, Pete has always had a way with words. He manages to articulate and translate the world in the most remarkable ways. Sights, smells and experiences are all wrapped up in alarming, acrid metaphors. Vivid, corporeal and often crude, he speaks the world alive in ways that often leave me awestruck. And often lost for words. Which is ironic because my writing business is called Found for Words.

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