charles barrow's writing

The Stolen Days of John Mann Chapter One ‘Dear Lord, thank you for the food before us, the fire in the grate, and the roof above our head. Please spare those we love and keep us safe from harm. Amen.’ John Mann opened his eyes and placed his hands in his lap as David and Helen repeated the blessing. The boy turned in his seat to face Mann. ‘You changed the words Father.’ He has his mother’s bright eyes, thought Mann. ‘David.’ This was a rebuke from his mother. ‘The boy is right.’ Said Mann. ‘Why’d you change them?’ Asked David. ‘Prayer doesn’t lose its aim because I change some words.’ ‘God still hears you?’ ‘Always. We should never be afraid of straying from familiar paths to find new ones, even when we’re told there is only one way forward.’ David looked puzzled, ‘But Mrs Ginty says…’ ‘That’s enough son, eat your supper.’ Helen levelled a firm look at Mann. ‘It’s best we don’t have talk that runs counter to David’s schooling.’ ‘Forg...

Once in a while I read a book which has a big impact on me. It might be the storyline hits home, it may be that a specific character appeals hugely, or it could be all about the timing - it chimes with my current mood. I've just found such a book in The Wall by John Lanchester, (currently long listed for the Booker prize 2019). In this case, I really liked spending time with the characters, and I really enjoyed the tension and the humour in story; it was a gripping read that I kept returning to, to the exclusion of all else. But what I really admired was the craft of the novel, the writing itself. It is a slim book (274 pages), so a concise story. The writing is direct, sparse, no flowery description, and the narrative voice, of Kavanagh the main character, is clear and compulsive. It drives the plot forward relentlessly, as he slowly reveals the story to us. We only ever know what he tells us, and we root for him, and fear for him and those he cares for. Hats off to John Lanches...

I just read Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens, for the first time. I thought I knew the story well; I've seen the film (the musical version) many times. I know, I know, the movies are never like the books, they are never as good, read the book. Well I did, and it surprised me. It's much longer and far more involved, plot wise, than I knew, and with many more characters. Oliver, Fagin, The Artful Dodger, Bill Sikes, and Nancy, are some of Dickens' best known characters, and probably some of the best known in any fiction, and I enjoyed spending more time with them (if you can enjoy spending time with thieves, child abusers and murderers). In fact, this story will linger for a long time. Dickens evokes Victorian London and its people better than anyone.

Here is an image that really intrigues me. Saw this book, on the railway line, on my morning walk to work. Annoyingly I couldn't see what the book's title was. Maybe I should say, intriguingly I couldn't see what the book's title was. It could actually have been a notebook rather than a novel. It looks artfully arranged there, rather than tossed randomly from a passing train window. It is pristine, not at all scuffed. Was it unloved and discarded, or is it missed and mourned? Did the owner have to get rid of the evidence it contained? Is someone else now searching for it? Images like this make really great prompts for stories. Photo is the author's own.

Ok, so, my autumn reading is organised. Being October, the month of Halloween and all things spooky and dead (I guess), I've loaded up with Stephen King books. I've written before about how I used to be a fan in the early days (both his and mine) and devoured titles like Carrie, Salem's Lot, and Pet Semetary but then drifted away to other genres and authors, but have recently returned. And I've become an admirer once again. I suspect people sneer at his writerly skills because he's so popular (and popular can't be quality can it?) and prolific. But he is a really good writer...which is why he is so popular. I loved 11.22.63 and Joyland. And his book On Writing (part biog and part 'How To Write') is a great read with untold amounts of advice and tips on writing and how he pursues the craft. I heartily recommend that to any aspiring authors. So, anyway, I picked up a few of King's titles and will be enjoying them as the evening's draw in and the ...

I love autumn. I know many people find it melancholic, marking the end of summer as it does, but I love its sights, colours, sounds, and smells. It always lifts my spirits. I've been having a hard time of it lately. I've been struggling with depression and anxiety, brought on by a torrid time at work.  My writing has fallen by the wayside over the last months, and I've not been able to summon the energy to do much about it.  But autumn has been working its magic and I find myself slowly resurfacing and feeling interest in my surroundings and with a sense of urgency about the future. Below are a few of the images that I've been posting to Twitter, on the theme of autumnal. I suppose taking these, and other, photos has been my creative outlet while I've been incapable of writing anything. Photos are the author's own.

A fantastic charity shop find. Pulp Fiction - The Crimefighters. Edited by Otto Penzler, introduction by Harlan Coben. It cost me only 75p, an embarrassingly small amount for such a treasure. It includes stories by such masters of the genre as Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, and many other writers that are new to me. The cover alone sold it to me, never mind the promise of the stories it contains. It conjures Bogey and Bacall, James Cagney, Edward G Robinson, Gloria Grahame; all dressed in black, harsh white lighting throwing deep shadows across the walls, snarky dialogue delivered through thick clouds of cigarette smoke, to the soundtrack of squealing tyres, and the sharp crack of gunshots. And then it's edited by a guy called Otto, who in the movie would be played by Sydney Greenstreet. I'm kicking around ideas for short stories at the moment, so reading this is research. Honestly, I am working here.