Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Eyeball scrawls: Manchester Fiction Prize


Here I am on the list of Commended Stories for the 2011 Manchester Fiction Prize.

If you click the pic for embiggerating, you'll see it says 'Ian Carrington', my real name. The story is You. Me. And This, which I wrote for and read at Bad Language. I should have submitted as 'Fat Roland', really, but I had no idea I'd get this far in this truly international competition.

I am humbled and astounded to have caught the attention of the judges. It is a story of which I am particularly proud: hopefully you'll get to read it soon. Thank you, Fiction Prize Overlords.

Meanwhile, fingers and toes and eyebrows are crossed for Vivmondo, who has gone one better than me and is representing the North West of England on the shortlist for the £10,000 prize. The result is announced this Friday.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Libraries that no longer exist


Hayle Library: wheeled down the road by monkeys

Brigg Technical Library: lack of interest

Dawlish Library: confusion

Romsey Library: annexed in putsch

Saint Barry Norman Library: fear by paper cut

Newton-Le-Willows Library: offensive stained glass

Filton Library: now sells tanks
Continue reading somewhere on the Paraxis Library Wall »

Saturday, 1 October 2011

My night (in Gene songs)


In this darkness, the stone bird table is a mucked grey, a permanent ghost.

Gustav feels a scrunch of leaves as he puts his hand on the table. He wipes them to the floor. The pocked ruddiness of his skin makes a scraping noise that reminds him of his mortality.

He uncups one hand, gently angled, close to the surface of the table. Four pebbles roll out. They roll then click into a huddle, barely forming separate shapes in the night light: dirty grey on dirty grey.