Creative Writing
I have always liked what happens when a piece of writing is allowed to come at something sideways.
A poem can say what a paragraph cannot. A story can let you sit inside an idea before anyone explains it. Humour can sneak past the defences. And sometimes a Glasgow voice can carry more truth than a carefully polished sentence ever could.
This section is probably the hardest part of the site to tidy into a single description, which is exactly why I like it. There are poems, short stories, memoir pieces, imagined scenes, reflections on music and place, and experiments that began simply because I wanted to see if they worked.
Where to Begin
For something rooted in Glasgow voice and Scripture, try If Jesus wiz a Weegie: The Wan Loaf. It began as a simple question about what familiar Gospel scenes might sound like if the voices came from the world I know.
The Braehead Ring – The Day I Nearly Saved the World is something different: a small misunderstanding allowed to become much bigger than it had any right to be.
And Ma Wurdz is shorter, but probably says something important about why I write the way I do.
Writing Without One Lane
I do not really separate the creative from the rest of life. Faith gets into it. Recovery gets into it. Easterhouse gets into it. Music, memory, family, irritation, laughter and things I cannot quite explain properly any other way get into it too.
Some pieces are serious. Some absolutely are not. A few probably changed category in my head halfway through writing them. That is fine. The point here is not to make everything behave. It is to give the writing somewhere to live.
Recent Creative Writing
- If Jesus Was a Weegie (4): The Lines We Knew
What happens when Jesus’ call to the fishermen in Mark 1 is reimagined in Easterhouse, 1987? A creative retelling of belonging, identity and territorial lines — and what it might mean when Jesus walks into the world you already know and simply says, “Come wae me.” - Between the Lines – Part 2
Writing honestly doesn’t mean writing everything. In Part 2 of Between the Lines, I revisit a difficult chapter of Window Seat and ask three questions: What do I need to tell you? What do I need to explain? And what am I allowed to keep for myself? - Between the Lines – Part 1
It starts small. It never stays there. Part 1 of Between the Lines. - If Jesus wiz a Weegie (3): Nae Bag, Nae Breid
“Tell folk the Kingdom’s near,” He said. “Tell them it’s time tae turn round.” Then: “Nae bag. Nae breid.” - If Jesus wiz a Weegie (2): Which Wan o Yous Is the Greatest?
The kind o silence that arrives aw at once, like everybody’s agreed tae stop breathin. - If Jesus wiz a Weegie (1): The Wan LoafIt’s only then Andrew clocks it. Wan loaf. That’s aw they’ve goat wi them. But they’ve already shoved aff, so there’s no much tae be done aboot it noo.
- I Just Killed A Man
Bohemian Rhapsody is not a confession of murder nor an exercise in nihilism. It is a ritual execution of identity — the moment Farrokh Bulsara dies and Freddie Mercury is born. This essay reads the song as a psychological, musical, and spiritual turning point, and Mercury’s lifelong silence as an act of mercy rather than mystery. - The Braehead Ring – The Day I Nearly Saved the World
You’re going about your day, minding your own business, when the universe decides to slap you. Not metaphorically — a full, open-handed wallop that leaves you blinking at reality, wondering who changed the script. I was upstairs in Costa, the one tucked inside NEXT at Braehead, perched above the menswear section with a lukewarm latte and the illusion of peace. Then I saw him — mid-twenties, navy coat, scanning the shirts with nervous hands. When the light caught the small metal object in his pocket, my chest tightened. A ring. A pin. A curved lever. The exact top of a hand grenade. Within minutes, a whisper became a rumour, the rumour became a story, and the story became a full-blown emergency rolling through the mall like a gospel nobody meant to preach. And somehow, God help me, I was the one who started it. - The Countdown Is On: Madness, Musos, and Why They’re a National Treasure
Long before addiction and long after recovery, Madness have been a constant thread—joy, mischief, and a reminder of the life I nearly lost. As the Hydro gig approaches, I reflect on why this band’s genius runs far deeper than their nutty image suggests. - Inhabiting Trauma
Delia, on the other hand, carries the trauma within her, unable to separate herself from the events. - Ode to tinnitus
silence no more - Ma wurdzIt’s how ah think
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