Kieran.Stories

When I started this blog, I was finishing one job and starting another. Things have been busy. I’ve had to find a new writing routine. I think I’m getting there now. Something that has helped is thinking about writing as a hobby. Since the age of eighteen I’ve seen ‘becoming a writer’ (So the shit in the shuttered château / Who does his five hundred words) as the ultimate. I still take writing stories seriously, but I’m getting better at finding a balance. It’s a nicer headspace to be in.

On a related note, this week I finished Keep the Aspidistra Flying by George Orwell. The Royal Horticultural Society describes the aspidistra as ‘[the] must have houseplant’. ‘No home should be without at least one.’ Finishing Aspidistra was like applying a salve. It seemed to sum up all my anxiety from the last ten years, if that doesn’t sound too grandiose. I recognised Gordon Comstock and his unpublished opus London Pleasures immediately. I cringed throughout all his terrible decisions. Sometimes you read books at just the right time. It’s one of the magical things about reading.

In April last year, I started work on two stories about Lord Longford and Martin Amis. ‘Longford’ was featured on Free Flash Fiction in June. The first draft of this story was about five thousand words. In its final form, it’s about five hundred. Don’t bore us, get to the chorus, and all that. I think it’s better for it. I struggled for a long time with the ending. But then I knew it had to end at the bus station. For whatever reason. I emailed Nicholas Royle. I asked if he had any photos of the bus station. I love his photography. Particularly the way he captures people unawares. Nicholas was kind enough to take several photos of Preston bus station. He’s what you might call a good egg. Ian at Free Flash Fiction picked one to accompany the story. It was a fun process.

The other story is titled ‘Why Do You Let Me Lie Here Wastefully’, which is one of the strangest stories I’ve ever finished. It should be out sometime in September. I wasn’t sure about sending it out for publication for a long time, because the subject matter could be seen as a little gauche, or even offensive. What I was trying to work through in this story was my reaction to being in London. I’ve only ever visited, and I’ve never been in London for more than a couple of nights. I just find it interesting how whenever I’m there, my hackles are up. I get all defensive. Then I immediately feel that I should give up my life on the Fylde Coast to live in a hole in Brixton. There’s the voice of Gordon Comstock again. Be careful what you aim for. I have a great life. We have a nice flat. We don’t have an aspidistra, but there are strings of fairy lights; maybe that’s the Gen Z equivalent.