Author Archives: Liz McPherson

Imposter Syndrome

IMPOSTER SYNDROME. A sonnet. It greets you in the morning when you wake, at night it kills your hopes and mutilates ideas. You’re too afraid to make your mark so, sick at heart, you face the empty page, then turn … Continue reading

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1. Write for yourself, not others 2. Find your own truths 3. First drafts are just that (you should see mine!) 4. Work out your own best processes (morning pages/candles/notebook/tablet/glass of wine/cup of tea/ meditation/ fresh air/ log fire/long walk…). … Continue reading

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Last night, in the morning, I gandered down the wooden stairs, ate jellied eels for breakfast with my pals, the grizzly bears. Just a normal day so far but, as we slurped our dishes, I heard a floosome noise outside … Continue reading

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God’s Oath

Libby’s a teacher, Beta grows herbs, Liza’s a dreamer, while Elsa loves words, Elisa’s a neat freak, Belle is a slattern, Isabelle like chaos while Libby needs patterns, Ealasidde writes poems, recites them on walks, Beth’s passion is animals, she’d … Continue reading

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New Year

That oil painting course I meant to take, letters unwritten, library books unread, a special message for a birthday cake, scores of poems imprisoned in my head. Those posh dinners that remained uncooked the room unpapered, the marathon not run, … Continue reading

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Truth and Lies

In this age of uncertainty a lie gains traction, travels around the world in a click. We must learn how to listen, recognise honesty, know truth when we hear it spoken, for who can tell where each false statement, each … Continue reading

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They stand about in grandmotherly disguise, schoolchildren once, now grey-haired, stiff and pompous, propriety made flesh, cod gasping on the deck, flapping but almost dead. The one who laughs a lot, the sporty one, the fool, the quiet thoughtful one, … Continue reading

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East Coast

It’s summer. I go down to the beach where swimmers shiver in the grey waves and children open like anemones in sudden sunlight. Glimmering behind uncertain lines of cloud, time creeps in with the tide and beneath my feet crunch … Continue reading

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