McCaw Media

Tag: BBC Local Radio Writing Club

  • Poem: Better Than Nothin’

    ‘What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?’ The first one asked as he ordered some wine; ‘I’m researching a book that you could help me with,’ She said, ‘It’s all about out-dated chat-up lines,  So push off. Here’s your wine, Sling your hook, go away. I’m not talking to you, not…

  • Poem: What Don’t You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

    I don’t want to be a singer, I don’t want to drive a train. I don’t want to be a teacher, ’Cos teachers are a pain. I don’t want to be a footballer, Don’t want to be a cleaner; Don’t want to work an ice-cream van Or be a ballerina. I don’t want to be…

  • Poem: Why I Don’t Keep a Diary Any More

    To track the year ahead of me, I bought myself a diary. Looking back now, it is clear: This was not a good idea. January – Tried to ski, Ended up in A&E. February – Valentine. Not a single card was mine. March – St Patrick’s celebrations. Drank green beer, had palpitations. April – Shakespeare’s…

  • Memoir: Living Under a Romany Blessing

    ‘Ye’re not scared of buying from a Romany are ye?’ said the old woman at the door one November night. ‘Of course not,’ I said. My granny was born to travelling horse-dealers so no, I wasn’t scared. ‘Blessings be upon ye,’ she said. She was seventy-five if she was a day; a lot younger than…

  • Memoir: Parcelwatching

    I was watching my phone to get some clue as to when my parcel would arrive. It was to come from Peterborough to just outside Cambridge, a distance of some 36 miles. It arrived, 277 miles later. That’s over seven and a half times the distance it should have gone. What had happened? Where had…

  • Poem: My Spam Folder

    The volume of emails coming into your inbox Is often alarming, I think you’ll agree. Thanks heavens we’ve all got our spam filters working Or else we’d be drowning in a spam email sea. My spam filter roots out the dodgy and scammy The grifters, the venal, the thick and the strange; So I’ve braved…

  • Poem: The Usual Routine

    Every morning, seven-fifteen Sydney showered, short but keen, Ate his breakfast, washed the bowl Listening to some rock and roll Flossed and brushed his teeth with care, Cleaned his glasses, combed his hair, Donned his shirt and tie and suit, Pulled on each well-polished boot; Grabbed his briefcase, coat and hat, Left the house and…

  • Short Fiction: The Same Every Time

    I turned my car towards the hotel with some trepidation, to be honest, even though I knew exactly what was going to happen. I didn’t want to go there at all, and if I thought I could have got away with it I’d have gone straight past and ignored her, but I knew she’d have…

  • Short Fiction: A Letter From Jane Austen To Her Brother

    My dearest Edward, How timely is your wonderful invitation to come and stay with you a while in Hampshire! I am in sore need of a prolonged rest with little to disturb me, for I am quite beset with all manner of communications which clamour for my attention, hence my tardiness in replying to your…

  • Poem: A Blind Date? What Were You Thinking?

    Why am I doing this? What shall I wear? Do I have time to colour my hair? What about nail varnish? Heels or flat shoes? Dress, skirt or trousers? Why can’t I choose? What shall we talk about? Where will we go? Why am I bothered? Why didn’t I say no? What if he’s awful?…

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