The Language of Footprints

Cumbrian writer Ian Hills submission to Lancaster Litfest for a special publication of new work inspired by Lancashire landscapes is one of three pieces that make up The Language of Footprints, the latest ebook from the festivals Flax imprint.

Instar explores and celebrates the liminal landscape of Leighton Moss and Morecambe Bay, where land and water continually change places and struggle for dominance. Read more>>

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The Weekly Poem #50

I missed you by a quarter of an hour.
I should have hurried through my morning shower,
missed eating breakfast in the sleepy sun
or read no emails, or replied to none

Sue Millards granddaughter Naomi died last year of a rare form of cancer Wilms tumour six weeks before her sixth birthday. Missing is the harrowing yet cathartic poem written in response. Read more>>

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BHD on camera Turkey Cock


Curthwaite fictionista Brindley Hallam Dennis has been playing with some new toys and filming himself telling stories. Here he is with a quite brilliant tale (which you can also read on his blog) of a chilling encounter on a taxi rank, Turkey Cock>>

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The Weekly Poem #49

The children are ahead, pretending to be adults
walking and talking fast.
We are dressed like old people.
Even our stooped shoulders look real.

At a time of year when many parents have just deposited their children outside university halls of residence, Elizabeth Stott puts her eye to the other end of the telescope in Alumni>>

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Swinging The Fire Crane

Its not just a piece of old iron, you wont find it on the back of a big red truck, and it hasnt got any feathers unless youve just plucked a chicken (or some other unfortunate fowl) over the hearth.

The Fire Crane, in fact, is Cumbrias first literary newspaper. And its FREE.

Read more>>

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September Sonnets

Deborah Parkins distinctively edgy and atmospheric black and white photographs of her children are complemented by a series of poems written especially for her exhibition at Keswicks Theatre by the Lake.

Read more>>

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The Weekly Poem #48

Diamond shoes meet the Diamond Sutra in the latest Weekly Poem, in which Angela Locke meditates on the business of worldly attachments, moving from material desire to something altogether higher and, paradoxically, more humble.

Read her poem, The Diamond Sutra and the Duchess of Windsors Shoes>>

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The Weekly Poem #47

Dont giggle at its shape
girls have had babies with vegetables before

If RS Thomas had been a lass, would he have written something like Josie Shinns Supper in Wales? Just a thought. Probably a stupid one. To see what we mean, click here>>

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Writing mob-handed in Wigton

Writer and (Trifolium Books) publisher Connie Jensen thought she knew a thing or two about putting a script together but then she found herself heading up a team of writers building The Throstles Nest 750 years of Wigton history condensed into a two-hour play for the towns Theatre Club, performed at the John Peel Theatre in June.

Read her blog about the team-writing process in Sharing a Pencil>>

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The Monthly Flash #08


Were barely able to read this uncomfortable little story by Helen Fletcher. Then again, we cant bear not to. It makes us squirm but its kind of addictive. Its Charlottes Partner>>

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The Weekly Poem #46

The blue sky
is a round wet mouth

Phoebe Powers love poem might be called Maybe, but theres no maybe about the poetry its definitely hitting the spot. But dont take our word for it get it read>>

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The Weekly Poem #45

Poet Clare Crossman grew up in Cumbria and lived here for many years before relocating to the flatlands of Cambridgeshire, and then leafy Hertfordshire.

You can take the woman out of Cumbria etc and in this weeks poem, shes back On Cold Fell>>

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The Monthly Flash #07

Its been too long since we posted some flash fiction here apologies, weve got a bit of a backlog. Anyway, heres some blue soup from Elizabeth Stott but rest assured, Bridgit Jones it isnt. Its A for Alice>>

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