WELCOME TO MY NEW WEBSITE!

My old website was good, but had been around for a few years and was starting to look a bit long in the tooth. It was pretty comprehensive, included absolutely everything I've ever done, with loads of lists - and therein lay the problem. Everyone who's ever been involved with the entertainment business, however peripherally, will know that it's quite hard to get people (and by people, I mean execs, producers - you know, suits) to read anything. Properly, that is, from beginning to end, taking it all in. I hesitate to bring the 45th. president into it, but like him, they'd ideally like to see all writing presented as a series of bull points, possibly with accompanying pictures. It's understandable actually - we live in a rushed and insecure world, where time is at a premium (so if you're an exec reading this, I understand, I understand!) En passant, talking of time pressures, I read the other day about...
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‘FLASH CHORD’ – PROLOGUE AND 1ST. CHAPTER

PROLOGUE It’s late afternoon, an overcast day in a South London cemetery. Stone memorials stretch into the distance – a few pristine, garlanded with fresh flowers, most neglected and crumbling, their etched assurances of eternal life forlorn and fading. One of the gravelled aisles is blocked by a gaggle of expensive cars – Mercs, Jags, a Bentley – as well as several undertakers’ limos. The cars’ drivers, bulky men in suits and shades, lean back against their vehicles, grim-faced, watchful. A couple of them surreptitiously smoke, cupping their hands over the glow of their cigarettes. Around one freshly dug grave there’s a straggling group of mourners, gazing at an ornate coffin. Most are old men, grey-haired but hard-eyed, their ageing bodies camouflaged by well-cut suits. Some are accompanied by well-preserved wives their own age. Others by younger, thinner, blonder women. Several are in wheelchairs, but they too share the grim-faced look of the others. Also among the mourners are several older women, clearly on...
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