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.
Simon Maddrell
“Even a stone has a soft spot
a worn through hole after years
of attrition, a heart
whose emptiness is its strength,
as in how a mill grinds wheat
and a cup fills up, and how
their threaded weight makes
looms and fishing nets complete.
And if by chance, you don’t
believe in hexes, hold one stone
with one hole, in one hand,
and notice if your eye resists
a telling stare, drawn through
by its own event horizon, like
the heart pulls in your dark
blood, then blows out bright.”
From ‘Untitled: a forthcoming poetry collection’– included in the showcase
Previous Showcase Authors
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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
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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:
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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
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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
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Niraj Shukla
“…The next station is Acton Town…Please mind the gap between the train and the platform…There are beggars and buskers operating on the train; please do not encourage their presence by
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David Shannon
“Simple time keep people simple. This, that, be happy, be sad. Take books away, heads have less clutter. Take food away, everyone do as they is ask. Well, not everyone.
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Pen Factor Special – winner Jill Dobson
“The ice-cubes tinkled in her glass as she took another sip. ‘What are you drinking?’ ‘Gin and tonic. I’m not going to sit here alone all evening with a cup
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Amanda Epe
“Mama Coleman soothed Bessie’s sore feet, massaging them from the four-mile daily walk to school and back. It was a Friday evening and the miles had accumulated. The relaxing massage
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James Brophy
“He was still on top of the hill, the same hill, except there were no buildings any longer. He noticed that the ground was wet in places. The sun had
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Eliza Vitri Handayani
“From Now On Everything Will Be Different tells the story of my generation. We grew up under the repressive New Order regime and learned to keep our mouth shut and
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Maggie Barrett
“Felicity sits at her desk, uncaps her pen, writes “Chapter 22’’ and stops. What is she trying to say? Not just now, in this minute, but altogether? What is this
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Jason Young
“Joanna Bromley’ is a follow-up to my feature film script titled ‘The Interesting Narrative of Olaudah Equiano’. Joanna was the mixed-race daughter of Olaudah Equiano (aka. Gustavus Vassa) in 19th
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Sharon Duggal
“Jimmy Noone drifted, alone in a cold subway, falling away with the day as it faded to shadow. He dreamt of balloons: sky-blue, bought by his father to mark his
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Paul Crooks
“I reach the St Johns Anglican church and as usual, all I can think about is death, especially when I catch sight of the stone wall and railings. I see
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Emma Cameron
“Catrìona walked along the path beside the kirk carrying a bunch of spring flowers, passing the ancient yew tree, grooved and twisted, as old as time. Lifting the latch she
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Vince Laws
“Poet John Faust is suicidal. His benefits have been stopped without warning, the bailiffs are due to evict him, his dog is in the vets dying, his car needs a
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Steve Sabella
“Let me take you back to 1996, when I sat alone in the back corner of Abu Shanab restaurant, a bustling hangout in the Old City. I was only twenty.
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Carl El Khoury
“It happened in flashes like a sequence of snapshots in a stop motion film because my mind blinked several times; blink — two hands on my chest shoving me to
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Pallavi Gopinath Aney
“Every so often Mrs. Mehta dutifully waited to do her washing after Mrs. Chadha had finished hers and then emptied the frothy, soapy water in a happy whoosh over Mrs.
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Maggie Humm
“Plucking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, Lily was desperate for a cigarette, but none of the ladies were smoking. “Can you see my painting?” “There it is,