portfolio

This portfolio consists of writing, because that’s what I do. The writing may be divided into two categories: Fact and Fiction.

The writing that is “Fact” is the journalism. That entails the odd news piece, feature, travel story or guide, interview, web content.

The writing that comes under “Fiction” is the novel, short stories, flash fiction, poems, personal essays.

There’s also a third category, I guess, a mixture of fact and fiction, some call it Creative Non-Fiction, but I call it Faction.

Oh, there’s also another category, an apocryphal one, let’s call it Very Personal. But the writing in that category remains, very much under guard. By me. My rubbish bin also helps me file this stuff, too.

Journalism

Now, as for the first category, I’ve mainly written for the odd newspaper, online portal, and magazine based in Greece. I’ve collated various clippings and created PDF files of those. Here they are:

Odyssey [PDF, around 1MB]
Athens News [PDF, around 1MB]
GreeceNow [PDF, around 1MB]

Fiction

is further subdivided into:

Poetry

Red

Red was my colour. Not blue,
The aquamarine you wrapped around us,
Diaphanous so my reds shrieked
Through.

love and thick metaphors

if i pull a thick
metaphor
out of a thin
hat, will you bring your ruler?

On Encountering My First Grey Hair

I brushed my first grey today.
Styling to the left, the metallic
streak, not like hair at all, flawed
my clean part. The brown sucked out
of a strand. Washout birthday.

On The Desire To Be Famous

Because I’ve not been written about in history,
I’ll do these things. Because no one knows my name,
no one knows all the things to be envied in me.
Because I want to be bloody filthy famous,
I’m off to cash in on my fifteen minutes—
and it’s rush hour at the Warhol.

Street Angst

A streetlight flicks indecision

Desire

I expect I’ll want a man like you, again.

Blackwoman, Whitewoman

I love your skin–

Intervention

In the photograph, they lie on stomachs,

Stories

I’m working on story called “Thirty Photo Albums.” It starts like this:

ONE WEEK BEFORE the wedding Mrs Perec opened the door to her bedroom to reveal a collection of photo albums.

“Now that you are finally getting married,” she said to her daughter Sophie, “now that you are about to begin your own life and no longer be all mine, I want to give you something. Something very special.”

Mother and daughter entered the master bedroom. There on the double bed in the middle of the room were thirty photo albums arranged in six stacks of five.

There’s another story called “Tweny Minutes, Three Times A Week” that I’ve submitted to an online magazine. I wonder what the verdict will be.

My story “A Silly Little Thing Called Dick” was accepted for the See You Next Tuesday Anthology, which is forthcoming.

“Outrageous Fortune” was published in WordRiot.

It starts like this:

Before she died, Marge closed her house to chase a lover and asked to see my tits. What I remember most about that day is the frounce of her massive cleavage framed by a shocking red decollete.

Read the rest here.

“The Rules” was published by Yankee Pot Roast.

It starts like this:

To Mature Adam
C/O No Longer Lonely Personals
2004 The Long Drive
Sydney NSW 2000

Dear Sir:

Your questions are not in the least offensive, my dearest Sir! I am a mature woman, a bold, thinking woman and I am convinced that it is the wiser choice to address such issues immediately, for when the time comes there will be no time and it will then be much too late. Had you not initiated this course of questioning, I most certainly would have.

Read the rest here.