The short story is a sadly neglected art form. At one time, short story magazines and collections were common, but nowadays, a writer seems expected to cough up a few novels first before publishers assume they are smart enough to produce anything shorter. Personally, I have no great desire to write a novel – they’re much too waffly and windy for me. The short story, on the other hand, is terse, economical and portable. You can read it on the Tube, in your lunch-break, on the bus or between changing nappies. Or in the dentists’ waiting room, as you sit happily waiting for his drill to stop whining. And finish it. You can’t say that for a novel. Many’s the used bus ticket, tacky sweet wrapper, slice of bacon and infinitely worse, that I’ve removed from the pages of a novel, which are only dog-eared up to page 105. So let me put in a word for the short story. Short. Well, speaks for itself, really. But as I always say to fellow writers, it takes STAMINA to write a novel, but it takes CONTROL to write a short story….
Here is a short collection of some of my stories