Pete Hartley: sometime dramaturg, perennial scribbler
What I owe the Open University Fetishism was not a personal priority upon applying to the Open University, but it proved too much of a temptation subsequently, when it was the title of an optional lecture at one of the residential summer schools. Despite being on the final half day of our week-long stay that … Continue reading I.O.U.O.U.
Trials on a tandem “I’d like to ride a tandem,” said Bob, “along the Pennine Way.” It was the kind of remark Bob would make. He was a well-known character locally and had been my best friend as a child. We were in our twentieth years and still very close. Sharing a tandem in the … Continue reading Downhill from John O’Groats
The word 'academic' is the bane of creative subject teachers' lives, yet it is an unjustified means of establishing a hierarchy of learning. It is usually defined by the proportion of cerebral to practical activity. Subjects with a high practical content are deemed less worthy. That is lazy thinking. The academic is ultimately worthless without practical application.
How an excursion on a veteran steamship and the making of a miniature replica fuelled a perplexing retro-adventure.
“The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one,” he repeated. “He’s right,” said Wendy Tyrell, the physics professor. “How can you be sure?” I asked. “Because I’ve measured the trajectory, and they’re not coming from Mars.” “Then where are they coming from?” Wendy re-positioned the telescope and invited me to look through it.
It was a magnificent honour for the terminally ill Mike Airey to see his name emblazoned of the vintage Blackpool Standard Tram 147 less than a month before he died on 12th August 2006. Twelve and a half years later, the tram looks as resplendent as ever. It has recently had a few more buckets … Continue reading Ticket to pride
Fiction, addiction and ostentation.
Dashing through the show; in a three-horse open sleigh. From a Soviet soundtrack to a festive farce.
A seasonal ghost story I am well aware of the dangers of walking alone late at night. I do so by choice, frequently, most nights. This is because I cannot sleep. And I’m looking for someone. If you are tempted to walk home after the bars close my advice is always call a cab, but … Continue reading To whom it may concern
A seasonal excerpt from Will at the Tower, a novel exposing William Shakespeare's secret seventeenth year.
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