keiths ramblings

I love to write. A couple of years ago, I didn't know I could, but now I find myself rambling on at every opportunity.

Most of what I write is influenced by my surroundings. I am blessed to live right by the sea and on the edge of glorious countryside in the south east of England. The changing seasons, the unpredictable weather and the tangible sense of history have always provided rich pickings for the writers, painters and craftsmen that have based themselves here for generations.

As for me, I�ve not yet found the genre which best suits me. I dabble at humour, hammer at horror, and agonise over poetry.

I apologise in advance to any of my friends who may be reading this, because I am about to launch, yet again, into my reasons for finding poetry a tricky bedfellow.

Firstly there are so many forms and disciplines. Rules and formulae. I'm too much of a free spirit to be tied down. And to me, a lot of free verse seems nothing more than prose with gaps. Having said that, there are several poets I am in awe of. You know who you are. When I read your work all of my prejudices fly out of the window.

There will never be a pattern to my work. Expect the unexpected. Not because I�m trying to be clever, but because I�m still experimenting. I�m hoping that one day something will click and I�ll be able to give myself a title � pop myself into a compartment. Stick a label on myself.

So there you have it! A jaywalker on the writers road.