book swap, creative writing, love, novel, prose

Stoner, by John Edward Williams: Book

I bought this book a while back and after a pause in reading at about Chapter 4 a few weeks ago, I was determined to finish this on our holiday last week and in the evenings since being home.

The first thing I will say is, I would advise this as a read for absolutely anybody and everybody. 

“A stunning novel… more timeless, more important, more real, than most novels can ever hope to be”The Snow Child

Usually I find myself making excuses for why I don’t have time to read, but this weekend I found myself making excuses as to why everything else could wait whilst I sat curled up in the duvet on the sofa engrossed in Stoner.

This novel is the most beautifully simple story about the life of a simple man. This is not a story about any elaborate adventurous event, or a far fetched fantasy, but focuses on the ups and downs of what in the grand scheme of things, is a very ordinary life.

And that, in my opinion, is what makes this novel so overwhelmingly brilliant and something everyone should read. It touches upon the disappointments of the everyday, the fragility of time in our lives, the dangers of comfort zones and the results of settling for what we think is enough. Whilst the main story of Stoner’s life is set in the 1920s and 1930s, many of the issues touched upon remain wholly relevant to the world today.

What resonated with me the most, was the reoccurring waves of a sense of ambition and passion that Stoner has throughout the novel for pursuing his research, which continue to be overwhelmed and suppressed by the speed at which our other daily commitments take over. This is something I continue to lose a battle against.

John E. Williams made me feel sympathy, sorrow, love, hope, ambition and melancholy in just the turn of a few pages.


book swap, creative writing, novel, prose

Living through lines: of books

Up until now I have kept this blog focused on poems, but this week I have had a change of heart after finishing an incredible book which all I want to do is talk about.

This also comes at the perfect time as myself and some friends from University a couple of years ago, whom now live several hours away from me, have decided to start a Book Swap Project to encourage us all to read more. Today I received my first book in the post and so from hereon I will also be sharing my thoughts on the books I will be reading.

First stop is last week’s novel (which I am now sending on as my first book swap!) which has left me deep in thought for quite some time…

creative writing, love, poetry, prose, rhyme, Uncategorized


Perhaps, if you had said yes 

And not maybe;

Perhaps if you had smiled 

And not looked away; 

Perhaps if you didn’t apologise 

For their mistakes;

Perhaps if you weren’t scared

Of getting it wrong;

Perhaps if you took a risk 

Instead of running;

Perhaps if you took action 

Instead of thinking;

Perhaps if you make a move 

And don’t remain still;

Perhaps if you pursue 

Rather than just wish;

Perhaps if you listen

To your own words;

Perhaps, then perhaps, 

If will finally be when.

livingthroughlines 2017.


creative writing, poetry, prose, rhyme

The Art of Life.

A little something I wrote in 2014 that I think is great food for thought for us all.

Think of your life
As four plain, white walls;
You are the artist,
You are designing them all.

One of the walls
Is your life so far;
In permanent paint
Are you happy with your art?

Take your second chance
With wall number two,
Pick up the brush,
Design the next part of you

But, just remember,
You’re now halfway through;
Two walls are filled
And there’s nothing you can do.

So just consider,
As you paint on your ways,
How many of these
Would be regretted days?

Two walls left,
Just think it through.
You, the artist
Control the picture of you.


livingthroughlines 2016.  

creative writing, poetry, prose

A ‘Chance’ Encounter.

You were but a face in the crowd
That I may have once seen;
Like a distant, dancing cloud
Slowly lost in the wind.

This world that we’re living in,
That is so brilliantly small;
The roots of the tree
Somehow connecting us all.

Like a pebble lost out at sea,
You slowly drifted back to me.
Everything has a way
Of falling into place.

You don’t believe in fate
And I doubt you ever will,
But there’s more than chance
On which our love was built.

A man amongst the rest,
I had forgot I’d ever seen,
Now I sit writing poems
About the other half of me.


livingthroughlines 2016.