This site is really just an online business card so people can contact me. When I get round to it I will add more of the material I’ve been working on over the last couple of years.
My background is in journalism. Now I enjoy writing fiction and non-fiction, I edit, and I lead writers’ groups. I also love films: the blurry image is from White God (2014), directed by Kornél Mundruczó.
I like talking about the things I do and am very approachable. I live in Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, UK. You can contact me by emailing email@example.com or texting +77 8851 5387.
Continue reading “Contact John Morrish”
The mood on the bridge of the Starship Poseidon was grim. Commander Freeman, a square-jawed man in early middle age, turned away from the giant view-screen to address his crew.
Continue reading “On the Bridge”
Lady Mary composed herself on her wooden chair in her bedchamber, working on her needlework.
Continue reading “Lord Thomas and Lady Mary”
On Friday night after work, Dad came in through the door, wrestling with a five-foot Nordman Fir wrapped in plastic mesh. It slid out of his arms and he dropped it in the hallway.
Continue reading “Starfucker”
Is there any sound more upsetting than the cry of a small baby? I’m not referring to the full-scale shrieking of an angry or tired or hungry infant, rather the pathetic mewling of a baby that is alone and neglected.
Continue reading “Have you been drinking, Sir?”
When we look back, does pain leave more of a mark, or does joy? It is easy to say pain, but in time that slips away.
Continue reading “California Saga”
It was their happy ending. Stephen and Sarah signed into the hotel in Venice as Mr & Mrs Russell, and it was the first time they had ever done that, and they smiled. They marvelled at the splendour of the place they had chosen from the brochure in the travel agent’s. They brought their bags in from the shuttle bus. They were looking forward to their honeymoon.
Continue reading “On Reflection”
Within months of moving to Zurich, it became clear to Nick and Samantha that they had made a mistake. Nick had taken a senior management position in a Swiss bank, and it was supposed to have been the adventure of a lifetime; but it proved a struggle.
Continue reading “High Windows”
Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you today, or sit, to explain a difficult decision the club has had to make. We have had to dismiss one of our biggest stars, a veritable superstar in fact, up there with Messi, Ronaldo and Madonna.
Continue reading “The Club Would Like to Apologise”
I sat at my desk, flicking through the Times and wondering how I was going to make the rent. Taking in washing suggested itself. Then Doris buzzed in a couple of potential clients. The tall one was wringing his cap in his hands like a washcloth after a shower. The other, shiny faced and fat, fixed me with an eye like a raisin in dough. He must have been the brains.
Continue reading “No Raymond Chandler”
The writing had been on the wall. Eleanor Stephens knew that people were not going into the High Street, they were not booking holidays, and when they did it was on the internet, not by going into an old-fashioned travel agent.
Continue reading “A Change of Career”