I’m excited to announce that I’ve (finally!) set up a wordpress site with which to publish my late father’s writings.

For over 40 years my Dad wrote his own poetry, songs, stories, letters, monologues, articles, and plays. He jotted down his deeply personal thoughts on love, life, and death in myriad notebooks, and also collected the wisdom of others, writing down both profound and silly quotations from greats and mates.

When he died in 2016, I became sole caretaker of my father’s writings: poetry, diaries, folders, notebooks, post-it notes, scraps of paper, numerous files, type-written sheets, illegible/smoke-stained/water-damaged pages; anything and everything he wrote that he didn’t destory when he was alive, I have with me.

Despite his talent, prolificity and passion, my father never had any of his work published, in print or online. I know that at several points in his life he began editing old work and started to organise some of his poetry into “collections.” I believe he always had the dream (as all writers do) of one day having his poetry published in print, but he never did anything to actively make this dream a reality.

He never submitted his poetry to any newspaper or journal. He never completed a manuscript. Never sought out an agent or publisher. (Side note: when going through his medical records, I saw that he was diagnosed with amotivational syndrome. He was also a stoner, smoking hash every day. He suffered from depression, and fought multiple horrific physical illnesses every day from January 2000 until his death in October 2016. Dredging up his past decades and having to do so much work, on the off-chance that he may have some future success, was neither practical or conducive to a life lived “one day at a time”, in the present, on borrowed time).

When I started posting my writing on WordPress in 2015, he was so pleased for me, so proud. “You should start a blog, Dad,” I said to him more than once. “It’s easy! I’ll help you set it up. It’ll be great!” When drunk, he’d say “Yeah, fuck it, why not!” and we’d make plans to create his site. For various reasons, it never happened.

Since his death, I have always had the intention of transcribing his writings, creating a platform for him, and publishing his work. Early on in my grief, I couldn’t even look at his handwriting without bursting into tears. Did I want to read about his ex-lovers? What would I discover about him and his life, good or bad? Am I doing the right thing?

Putting my Dad’s poetry and wisdom out in the world is a project that I’ve always been determined to do and, though it’s taken a while, I’m finally ready to do it: for him, for myself, for posterity, for you.

I will post the link here when it’s ready to go live!

H xx


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