Interview with CarolTHE EDITOR recently referred to a story as a 'TOT'. I looked puzzled. A Triumph Over Tragedy, he explained and, of course, I knew the genre, if not its acronym. It is not one I admire. In my experience, such stories produce the required reaction in the reader by patronising the subject. Carol Robinson, the medal-winning amateur athlete who was made limbless in a motor-cycle accident some eight months ago, does not want such a story made of her situation.
We meet in the gardens of the convalescent home where she has lived for more than half a year. In a week she will be leaving, to face the outside world for the first time. It is a prospect she views with mixed feelings.
"In one sense I'm hugely relieved," she says. "I've been here for so long that I'm starting to get a bit institutionalised, and it will be nice to start making decisions for myself again, and have a measure of independence. On the other hand, I suspect it's going to be hard dealing with other pe
The Stone Thief - excerpt 1(part of a Membra Secaret story)
Custos arrived in the City quietly, not using any of the public gates, and wholly unremarked by any officers of the City Guard, despite his formidable reputation. But then, such was his skill.
By a circuitous route he made his way into the area of the city known as Rogues Hole and headed for its centre, where the winding alleys and narrow lanes converged into a small square hemmed in by stooping two and three storey buildings. One of these was his destination, a drinking den known as 'The End'.
A body was lying in the street outside the entrance, drunk or dead, as Custos walked down the wooden stairs and into the smoky atmosphere of the tavern. He paused at the doorway, scanning the room. It was low-ceilinged and dark, criss-crossed with smoke-blackened beams. The floor, roughly strewn with old straw, was sticky with spilled wine and other less-identifiable substances, and guttering torches in rusted wall-brackets illuminated the heaving throng
|After 5 years at art school I spent well over a decade as a graphic-designer, the last 7 as an independent (so they say) freelancer. After bankruptcy it took almost 10 years till someone told me that I had burn-out. Although resenting the industry, I do very much appreciate Artists and what they do, even more so in lack of commercial motives.|