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Thievery is a series of blog posts about story inspirations. On Thursdays, I invite my favourite writers to share the inspirations behind their stories. Here’s one from punk rock writer Simon Jacobs. The Story: ‘The Theatre of the Floating World’ was first published in PANK 7, and was later anthologized in Best Gay Stories 2013. An Extract: A hundred meters out on the water, the beach’s only current attraction blotted the skyline: the three floating Japanese theatres. Three enormous, creaking…

Thievery is a series of blog posts about story inspirations. On Thursdays, I invite my favourite writers to share the inspirations behind their stories. Here’s one from the mysterious Ever Dundas. The Story: ‘The Cake Tree’ was published in Duality 6: Home. An Extract: The cake tree had seen many generations come and go, had seen the city grow, as the tree itself had grown. The tree stood, imperious and beautiful, icing sugar dripping from glistening branches. The cake tree belonged…

Goodreads Book Giveaway The Rental Heart and Other Fairytales by Kirsty Logan Giveaway ends April 11, 2014. See the giveaway details at Goodreads. Enter to win

At BookTalk, I discussed death, autobiography, licking batteries, and what makes a fairytale.

Thievery is a series of blog posts about story inspirations. On Thursdays, I invite my favourite writers to share the inspirations behind their stories. Here’s one from the multitalented Jarred McGinnis. The Story: ‘The Family Snaps’ was broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and published online at Underground Voices. An Extract: “Ma, Ma, Ma,” says Colin. He cries and thrashes. He barely fits the seat, and the pushchair bounces with his movements. At the end of his fleshy legs, white trainers…

Thievery is a series of blog posts about story inspirations. One Thursday per month, I invite my favourite writers to share the inspirations behind their stories. Here’s one from novelist and screenwriter Lisa O’Donnell. An Extract: Gene’s flesh was literally falling off him and ripping like paper in some places. Every time we moved he made a noise, like a fart, except wet and by the time we’d reached the top of the stairs we’d had enough and couldn’t bear…