HEHEHE! Three Steps to Heaven
'Til I Kissed You
Always On My Mind
A rock'n'roll romance series by Pam Howes all available on Amazon in paperback and e-Books.
Visit my website for details.
Fast Movin' Train - A stand alone love story.
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"And, in the end, the love you take / Is equal to the love you make." Lennon and McCartney 1969

Try saying 'literary' after a number of LARGE whisky and cokes - hic

Not -hic - easy.

As for litre - litt - oh bugger - literary - hic - I had to retype that a number of times - hic .

It's, as often as not, the words that accompany 'literary' that put people off. - hic.

Writingsh can be 'literary' without attaching the label and all the bellsh and whishtles that 'literary' writers feel obli- hic -ged to flag their work with- hic

FFS that posht took effing agesh - hic.

Whenever someone says 'I'm a literary writer' I sometimes feel like saying, 'well, I'm an illiterary writer'

Bugger the bloody labels.

Goodnight.
I also talk bollocks on; awriteblog.com

The literary bard must have his/her alcohol for a muse ...



"A,B&E", "Not In My Name" and "52FF" (flash fiction anthology) all available on Amazon Kindle

"How a psychopath makes sweet love. I can get you ringside. Royal box even."

Seriously though.

Why do you feel so strongly about calling yourself a 'literary writer'?

I see myself as a writer, full stop. If, on occasion, I reach some literary height, fine. How 'literary' I am is in the eye of the reader, not me.

I write to express myself at the time I am writing; sometimes that may be quite poetic; sometimes in the playful manner I did last night. It changes all the time.

I move around and would see a label as a straitjacket.

I also talk bollocks on; awriteblog.com

Aren't we supposed NOT to use words that end in 'ry'?

The first time I got pissed was on coke and Argentine Scotch Whisky (Criadores, a name designed to target beef barons out on the Pampas). I was hell bent on shagging one of my classmates who was always showing me her knickers.

"Andresitooo...." she would say and give me a flash.

Ah, Lidi, Lidi, we were so young once upon a time.

The only problem was that, because I am so clever, I was 13 and Lidi, like the rest of my classmates was 16 and not interested. So despite an initial surge of bravado, that was entirely down to the Whisky and Coke, I ended up being sick all over the dance floor.

Like 30% of my (female) classmates, Lidi had a child out of wedlock and three years later she showed more interest.

"What is all this?" she murmured in my ear on the dance floor, running her fingers through my chest hairs.

But I had moved on by then.

So Whisky and Coke has bitter sweet memories for me. The taste of things that took the wrong turn. The taste of life. Which is sort of what Whisky means: The water of life. In the name of unrequited love, it is never wasted, whatever you mix it with, whichever way it flows.

Cheers

Andrew

Memory... What was that?