a writer’s life
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A mixed bag
I have been working hard on my children’s story The Second Kind of Darkness in the last two months. The end is in sight. Putting the story aside for a few years has really helped. Time is a great editor. I’ve also been filling in gaps in my reading of good children’s books, including Noughts & Crosses…
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Stick or bust?
When is it sensible to give up? Persistence we are told is a characteristic of success. Against this idea, I always think about sunk costs. An agency pal once explained to me there’s no sense pouring money into a project because you’ve already poured lots of money into it. Likewise, there comes a moment to cut your losses on an artistic project,…
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In praise of nothing
I wish you every happiness for the new year. On the last day of the year I attempted a deathless piece about 2016. But in trying to write it, I kept descending into pompous windbaggery. My conclusion was that kindness is good, and that treating people with common decency is a rebellious act. And blah, blah, blah-blah… I spare you the…
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Nostalgia, and other news
This time last week I was in Guernsey. I loved every moment of it. As soon as I set foot in my home parish of St Martin’s I feel surrounded by magic, and weirdly rebooted. The lanes are sedimented with decades of my memories, which provides the illusion that this is somehow my place. And I…
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About ‘The Centaur’, an opera written with Helen Russell
I’ve not talked much about the work I am doing with Helen Russell. We met in December 2014. She contacted me after hearing the CD called Clameur I had done with Matthew Pollard, and she needed a librettist for new a project based on a short story by José Saramago called The Centaur. Here is a link to…
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Better than I’d dared to hope for
So what a week. I’m writing this first thing on a Monday morning, after an extraordinary week. A Glass of Nothing played to three sell out audiences. It garnered some great reviews (which I’ll link again to here and here). Having now seen the play run in front of living breathing audiences, there are bits I’d…
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Two thoughts on poetry vs theatre
As a poet who writes plays, here are a couple of thoughts about poetry vs theatre while rehearsing my play A Glass of Nothing for the Brighton Fringe. Control I love this image of Jackson Pollock, at work above, because it makes me think about control. When people publish my poems I am always chuffed. But if…
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Home is where the hurt is
For someone who hates flying as much as I do, I seem to travel a lot. Countries as far apart as Mexico, Chad, and Japan have seen me emerge from the plane blinking in gratitude to the sky gods for my safe arrival, and ready to explore. But when I return to Guernsey I feel I am coming home. I…
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A writer’s progress, in 3 machines
1: the mould green typewriter. At first it was all pencil, fountain pen, biro and felt tip, until a mould green typewriter changed my life. It had belonged to my Canadian great-aunt and somehow found itself at our house in London. Plonking, one finger at time, I transferred my secretly pencilled hoard of teenage poems into typescript. Their newfound…
Peter Kenny: a writer's notebook 