I’m Out

Hi.  My name’s Janine H. Jones and I’m emetophobic.  This means that I have a crippling phobia of me or someone near me, being sick. Most of you know this about me, I explain it to everyone in the hope that they will better understand some of my behaviours.  Most people are very sensitive to…

Tuesday Night Writes

Dear friends, I’m about to unveil a very special project and I’m really excited to be announcing it here. Tuesday Night Writes is a Writers’ Group online and in Cardiff, specifically for script writers (for TV, film, radio, theatre, or anything really).  We talk daily online and meet every Tuesday evening in Cardiff, usually something…

Serial – and my own ethical dilemma

This week I’ve taken the BBC’s wonderful Powerful Presentations course with the inspiring and witty Sandra Miller.  I recommend you all take it too, especially if you’re terrified; feel the fear and do it anyway. For today’s five minute presentation I spoke about my conflicting feelings towards my new favourite thing, the Serial podcast.  Here…

August

august [aw-guhst] Spell Syllables adjective 1. inspiring reverence or admiration; of supremedignity or grandeur; majestic: an august performance 2. venerable; eminent: an august personage   This month sees the third anniversary of (continuously) working back in Cardiff and so much has happened in that time, I am truly grateful. This month sees the fifth anniversary of my best friend’s wedding (and 35th of her birth) and this gives me much…

Devastated

The most emphatic conversation I ever heard Happened in a language I don’t understand Outside my door. I was devastated not to know If it was a love not loved A life that’s wasted A bill not paid A sandwich not eaten. It sounded like The words a heart most wants to say At two…

And to think…

And to think I nearly didn’t go To that steampunk Lesbian reenactment Of the TV show Ghostwatch And had I not I never would have met you My love With your eyes like A butterfly’s back And your hair Like the legs of a butterfly And your butterfly Like the lips of a kiss That’s…

Feart

Originally posted on Morning, and Other Stories.:
? It takes six minutes to get to my old house from the tube after 9pm. You have to run it – or as near as run it – for it to take six minutes. Walking takes ten. I know, still, when the corner shop shuts, when the off…

Meeces

The little urchins crept Around the cottage, late at night And scavenged what they could; Such morsels, scraps and crumbs As they could find. And in the morning Uncle Eric, knowing wink, Would smile “There seems to be A two-legged mouse around the house.” And in the future, then, When round the Twitter, late at…

It is

You loved my hands And though I couldn’t believe it, I let you. You did for me And though they couldn’t understand, I let you. You died too soon And though I couldn’t stop it, I let you.

Second Sunday

Today I attended my first ever writers’ group (at Chapter Arts, Canton, Cardiff) and read out something I’d written for the first time in twenty years.  We spent a short time writing then read aloud and discussed each other’s work.  It was liberating, enlightening and not least of all, fun! The theme for the work…

Two Shorts at The Keys

I had a couple of ideas today, so I decided to make writing exercises out of them and managed to scribble something down tonight while I was at the Sherman Theatre, Cardiff listening to two excellent bands, Wrongs and The Keys.  Potentially it was ignorant, if not a little rude, to write my way through…

Potters

Poppy begins with a tip she saw on the television.  Wet a bar of soap and scrape your fingertips over it; the soap gets under your nails and prevents the dirt getting in. She takes the tray of seedlings to the sunniest end of the yard and counts her pots out in rows.  They were…