We are grateful to many of our members for sharing their work with our community through our events.


We share their talented writing their permission.

Enjoy these stories from our past Writers in Residence.

‘Threads’ by Tessa Moriarty

It’s all you want for them, isn’t it, as a mother, a parent? To be happy in what they do, healthy, good in their heart, and to outlive you.  I only have two. Both boys.  Actually, they’re young men, and the eldest a parent himself now.  But I ‘ve always been more...

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‘The Garden of the Moon’ by Danielle Davey

He’d regarded it (pleased at the metaphor) as the ultimate trompe-l'œil, smiling as he recalled snippets of the brief, since etched-to-memory, report he’d found in The Argus some years ago. An exciting titbit sandwiched between the dry political news ...’Her...

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‘Bertha’ by Danielle Davey

He conceals his true spirit as he now hides me. A respectable facade has been painted, yet inside, hidden deep within, his passions are prone to excitability as readily as mine. God knows you're lying, Rochester. I know...and He knows. Uprooted from my Jamaican home,...

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‘Re(pre)sent’ by Danielle Davey

My Babbles has a nasty knack Of keeping monkeys on her back.   Her back is filled with 'monkeys' now A tattooed memoir recording how Those she knows have done her wrong She wears these grudges all day long.   In actual fact, they do all vary These ink...

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‘Mnemosyne Peninsula’ by Danielle Davey

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" they'd ask when I was a young girl. (It is well they didn't know). It struck me then as curious, given my head was neither particularly attractive, or undersized, but I supposed this phrase was intended...

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‘Wooster in Sorrento’ by Danielle Davey

‘A Coffee Palace? No Gin?! It's positively rummy! What ho! Jeeves. Did you hear that?’ ‘Yes Sir. Very amusing.’ ‘I'd be dashed if we're related at all. Aunt Alvina runs her own business. That sounds positively unlike the Wooster female. On the contrary, Wooster...

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‘Like Mother, Like Daughter’ by Sue Brown

The back door slammed shut. The noise made her start but she carried on weeding, determined to finish the patch she was working on before the light went. She knew her mother would have wanted the garden to look at its best when the new people took occupation....

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