Seven Miles of Steel Thistles

Water. You can touch it, but you can’t hold it.  It runs between your fingers.  It flows away in streams, in rivers, talking to itself.  I...

  Many a wonderful YA fantasy of the last decade tells of doomed but brilliant young men in thrall to a beautiful, capricious and often crue...

Here is Hercules, in brown, depicted on an Athenian vase. Eros, standing on his shoulder, offers him one of the golden apples of immor...

We drove up to Yorkshire last weekend, partly to take my daughter back to university, partly to visit old friends in the Dales.  My mother...

After the wedding the prince and the goosegirl rode off in their coach to live in a hall of mirrors. After the wedding roses sprang fr...

What makes a writer choose one subject over another, one genre over another?  What draws one writer to contemporary fiction, another to his...

A couple of nights ago, in the bright light of a half moon, we went up on to the Downs to visit the Uffington White Horse. This was an activ...