Mark Piggott is the author of two novels, “Out of Office” and “Fire Horses”, published by Legend Press, London. Magazines to have published his short stories and creative non-fiction include Aesthetica, Prole Books, Pulp Books and 3:AM.
Now a staff reporter for the IB Times he’s had major features in the Times, Guardian, Independent, Mail, Express, Sunday Express, Telegraph, Observer and more. He has appeared on TV and radio and lectures in creative writing and journalism. Read his "Suffolkating" column at the Huffington Post.
|Posted on March 10, 2014 at 9:55 AM|
"As Christmas approaches all I seem to do is shuttle between house and station in the dark, rain, sleet and dead badgers on the windscreen, huddling in the cold at Newmarket station (the most foul, loathsome train station in the multiverse) or if there are no trains drive to Cambridge for the early London shuttle. I never even see the green fields and woodlands around our new home, let alone visit any country pubs. I never have time to even s...Read Full Post »
|Posted on March 10, 2014 at 9:15 AM|
|Posted on March 3, 2014 at 5:50 AM|
|Posted on February 28, 2014 at 8:35 AM|
"It's almost Christmas: the kids rehearse for the school nativity, the Christmas tree has been
extracted from its tatty box, the living-room walls are festooned with
cards from those lucky souls to whom we remembered to give our new
address (the woman with whom we house-swapped hasn't forwarded mail,
though we kindly sent on all her bailiff's letters, summonses and unpaid
Having received a card from the middle-aged couple a few doors along,...
|Posted on February 22, 2014 at 5:50 AM|
"...Sean's spots are healing, Emma making friends; Lynda is working in London today. The house is
"coming together" (as in, it's no longer falling apart). The roof of the
summerhouse is secured with tarp and screws. There's nothing useful I
can do alone. Nothing for it: I must write.
My biggest concern about leaving London was whether I'd find the ambient energy I needed to write surrounded by these verdant greens and mixy-addled rabbits. Regardles...
|Posted on February 17, 2014 at 9:15 AM|
The wind on Friday night was so strong it took our summerhouse roof off, so I decided to leave early in case the roads to Cambridge were blocked by trees. Set off at 5:30 am and by 9 I was at my desk on the 32nd floor at Canary Wharf - writing about the "Valentine's Day storm" (as I'm insisting on calling it). Thank Christ for the goo...Read Full Post »
|Posted on February 14, 2014 at 11:45 AM|
"Neither of the kids seems traumatised by their first day at Straddlewick; we heave sighs of relief. Then, at tooth-brush-time, Emma says Sean was called names by an older boy in the playground. After years of bliss in a vast London school, Sean is experiencing his first bully in tiny Straddlewick. Still, at least here the kids are unlikely to be exposed to an eight-year-old waving a knife belonging to the local drug-dealers in their faces, as happened ...Read Full Post »
|Posted on February 7, 2014 at 11:20 AM|
"...Lynda's supposed to meet me at the train station but the Stilo's out of
action: some sort of steering rod calamity that will cost more to fix
than we paid for the infernal thing. For about a trillisecond I consider
taking a mechanic's course then remember I have better things to do.
I'm not sure what, exactly, but I do.
It's dark and raining again - I've never seen this train station in daylight but I'm pretty sure it's worse. Having clattered a...
|Posted on February 5, 2014 at 5:05 PM|
My granddad, Leslie Piggott, died last month at the age of 98. He is much loved. Really pleased to announce that today The Guardian published his obituary in its excellent "other lives" seriesRead Full Post »
|Posted on February 3, 2014 at 11:35 AM|
"Morrissey and I have history - albeit one-sided. Since the astonishing moment I first heard "what difference does it make" in 1983 I've thought of "The Smiths" as somehow separate: not music but an integral part of life. When asked to contribute to a collection of stories about Islington ("Down the Angel and up Holloway") I called my story "Hatful of Holloway". When asked to writ...Read Full Post »