Frost crackled into jagged patterns across the window pane. Jack curled his fingers away from the glass then rubbed at the ice with his sleeve. So many years, but old habits died hard.   A faint ticking from the mantlepiece clock filled the silence. Darkness seeped through the glass. He leaned his hand on …

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Neon lights flickered, sizzling in the damp night air. Cigarette butts littered the gutter. Damon clenched his hand, pulling back the lilac mist threading through his fingers. A cold wind tugged his coat away from his legs and he glanced at Phoebe in her thin sweater.   She caught her full bottom lip between her …

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Revisions are tough. I mean, drafting is hard too, but you get to ignore the bad bits and the lumpy plot and the endlessly repeating ‘looked’, because everyone tells you to “Just get it out! words on a page! You can edit a bad page you can’t edit a blank one!”. You can’t escape this …

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