I don’t want your algorithm, Medium — Well, they’ve finally gone and done it: removed the avatars of the people I follow from the top menu bar, along with the little icons to tell me how many new pieces you’ve published since I last visited your feed. A reminder what it looked like:

Owning the randomness of creative endeavour — Do you ever feel that your creative projects take you to unexpected places? I get that all the time. It’s one of the reasons I’m a ‘pantser’ rather than a ‘plotter’ in my fiction writing. When I start writing a story, I never know how it’s going to end. I…

Why do we tell the stories that we tell? — (If the tablet version of the Medium interface were fully functional then the above photo would have a caption. Maybe ‘random photo of a bloke in a funny cap enjoying a very expensive imported beer’.) On the occasion of my wife’s birthday, we’re in Melbourne for the week. For the…

Waiting — The registrar adjusted the horn-rimmed spectacles on his pointy nose. He looked tired and dispirited. ‘Your daughter is strong. A fighter. So she may yet pull through, but you need to be prepared for the worst, I’m afraid. The next few hours will be critical. …

River of Sorrows — January came round again, and with it, the longed-for rain after a parched year. However, it seemed that we were about to get too much of a good thing. Such is the lot of the Aussie farmer. The radio spoke in sombre tones of a deepening East Coast Low. Coastal…

Different Paths — It was clear to me from our first acquaintance that Colm and Dearbhla Doyle weren’t crazy hippies high on weed, whatever the local gossip might say. They were just people who followed their own path. It didn’t always take them where they expected to go, but they accepted that with…

The Challenge — The thought of anyone laying hands on Áine, doing violence to her, wasn’t just unbearable to me, it was inconceivable. A monstrosity that could not, must not exist in this universe. Roddy Grady’s girlfriend was Aurora Morgan, a tall, voluptuous girl with proud Maori features and long black tresses. Quite…

Closing the Circle — Some images stick with you for a lifetime. I see this one before my mind’s eye, as vivid as if I were standing there now. Mist hung over the black waters of the swift-flowing Acheron. The autumn sun was yet to rise behind the gum trees on the eastern bank…

Thoughts of a gentle bloke in 2022 I have no idea whether I’m going to click ‘publish’ when I’ve finished this. Perhaps it will languish as a draft for weeks; perhaps it will be published in the small hours of the morning. Then I may tear back the bedcovers with a resounding ‘Nooooooo!’ …