Showcase
The Literary Consultancy is excited to be working on an innovative showcase for its writing talent, initially in association with Staple Magazine. See TLC Showcase Introduction for more on the inception of the Showcase and please see below for where it is now.
Once a month we will highlight the work of one author whose work we believe deserves a platform, whether simply because our readers felt it worth championing, or whether we have helped the writer on to commercial publication.
If you enjoy reading our Showcase, please feel free to share, and let us know on Facebook or on Twitter.
Gayathiri Kamalakanthan
“You wake up and think of her. Try not to check your phone till you’ve had a cup of tea. A bowl of cereal. You tell yourself that having a decent breakfast, having yourself a full stomach means you’re more likely to pick up the phone, call her in good spirits.”
From ‘Poetry Extract’– included in the showcase
Previous Showcase Authors
Ambreen and Uzma Hameed
“When H asked me to dance, I was unwilling at first. For the last few years – in fact, dating back precisely to the time of my Loss – it
Miriam Burke
“I love my job. I love standing in the darkness taking in the smell of their cooking, a whiff of perfume, or a trace of lemon fabric conditioner on a
Daniel Adediran
“Dolapo knew he was going to die. Not in any vague, distant way, but in a manner quite acute and not at all of his own making. The premonition clung
Lachlan McIver
“Life and Death Decisions is my little crate of dynamite. It’s part medical memoir, part call to arms for action on some of the greatest but neglected global health crises of
Shazia Altaf
“Ishrat knew a false step could be it. A plunge. The end at the beginning. Crossing jagged ancient steps root arteries snaked cliff faces offering secret footholds, whilst grassy clumps
Janet Savin
“I had been living in Prague two years at the time of the Velvet Revolution. I was fluent in Czech and had been following the politicisation of the studio theatres,
Pen Factor Special – winner Johnny Gaunt
“There was the saw-toothed ‘kronk’ of the dawn raven, throaty enough to splinter dreams, send them skittering like silverfish. Chrissy-boy stirred, but his eyes stayed shut. Parched, he was. And
Sarah Clement
“From the doorway, it looks as if a flock of baby doves has landed on our coffee table. Mum glances up at me from where she’s sitting crossed-legged on the
Lauren Nathan-Lane
“Self-care when you’re long term sick is incredibly important but sadly the idea of self-care seems to have been hijacked by the more toxic side of ‘wellness’. In this chapter
Jools Abrams
“The winter wind had bitten through her thin coat. She hung it in the wardrobe and fingered the worn astrakhan collar. It was time for a new one. A small
Kate Oliver & Toby Oliver
“It’s time to wake up! Some people open their eyes and are full of enthusiasm for the day to come; others groan and yank the covers back over their heads.
Nicholas Graham
“Above us the kilns glowed deep against the darkness of the valley sides. Mud clung to my boots, every step adding a fresh layer. The last heave up to the
Neel Patel
“The train journey had been long, but they had managed to entertain themselves. The cans of lager they carried were cracked open within minutes of sitting down, and soon, the
Kate Lockwood Jefford
“It didn’t cry or make much of any sort of fuss all day, which was amazing really, considering. After picking the baby up, I’d dawdled at the fag-end of a
Alinah Azadeh
“There is only one person ahead of me in the queue for the phone at school, which is in the corridor near the main hall and front entrance. It is
Bobbie Jean Huff
“The woman beside her buttons her shirt, then wheels her cart back to the corner opposite where the other woman is squatting. Are they friends? It doesn’t appear that way,
Fathima Zahra
“Ramadan, 2019 We stalk the moon all month round, lick our lips, till the Adhan goes off on our phones, dig our teeth into the soft flesh of dates, wash
Maia Elsner
“When a coal tit tears into my room. Rush of wings thrashes against white. No clouds. No whisper-thin rain threading through a grey miracle. Instead, this thing we call shelter:
Merryl Futerman
“Babe, its freezing. Can you get my parka? Such a straightforward request means I can turn over, keep dozing. This state of bliss lasts about a minute until I remember
Jessica Zarins
“She knows immediately after Nothing to Declare that he isn’t there. The air in the Arrivals hall isn’t any different from the plane or from Gatwick this morning. Thousands of