Author Archives: Zoe Nightingale

I have been writing my novel for nearly four years and I know less about writing a novel now than I did when I started. It may take another four years, more or less — I hope not too much … Continue reading →

FADE IN EXT. HOUSE From various angles converging on the front door. The number on the door is 659. ALICE, a teenage schoolgirl has her hand on the doorknob, turning it. A cute looking boy smiles and waves. INT. HOUSE Alice enters … Continue reading →

The Venusian Delayed Species Death Touch. Some people, when they touch one of us, touch everyone. “Hello, I’m Bernard. I’m from Venus.” “Ah, right. I said. “You don’t have much of an accent. None that I can make out. But … Continue reading →

I open the lid of the crate and look out. There is no one there. I’ve done it. I’ve got through the security at Cutcost, and now I can take anything I want. That’s the weak point in their security: … Continue reading →

Looking back, our relatives will say, We planned it. We chose, certainly but no, No plan about it; anarchy – although Design came into it. And yours will say, I dragged you up the garden path! And mine will say, … Continue reading →

The reality is, Labour lost in the sense of it cannot hope to get its programme through Parliament, it won’t even be trying. The Tories lost in that they no longer have a majority to get their programme through, although … Continue reading →

“Just like the fifties,” says Mum, gazing at the broken skyline. “It was like it when I was born, and it’ll be like it when I die.” “You’re not going to die, Mum,” I say. “Not yet. You’ll get through … Continue reading →

My Facebook stream is getting too full again. Time for another cull? Not of people, not ‘friends’ you understand, that’s not the problem. It’s these random items like weather reports and reminders of things I’d rather forget and articles that … Continue reading →

It is terrible being poor I feel powerless I cannot afford the Semtex

We found the hut near the peak, half buried in Alaskan snow. The windows were broken, the glass was lying all around. “So they were broken after the blizzard — from within.” Weston enjoyed playing detective. Hearne — the other … Continue reading →