Born in the English Midlands. I graduated university with a first class degree. I have been writing stories and making things up since I was a child. I have had a few poems published here and there, but my heart really lies with fiction. I write shorts, novels and novellas and sometimes they take a dark turn, but I go wherever the words take me.
dc lauf in 60 seconds
When did you start writing?2003 In a quiet room with the door closed.
What do you love about Short Stories?They are economical and a good one packs a punch.
Do you write in other forms?Yes, novels and novellas.
What distracts you from writing?Spoons and wine.
Outside of writing, what are your other passions?History, archaeology and dog walking.
What is your favourite book?
Who are your favourite writers?, and
Where is your dream location?Britain 43AD
What one item would you put into Room 101?The list is endless ...
Do you have any advice for new writers?chin up.
ebooks by dc lauf:
If the public don't have the discipline to watch what they put into their mouths then the state is just going to have to do it for them... "The lines are always long but no one ever complains about that. It’s to be expected. After all, this service is provided by the government. More than that, it’s for our own good.I shuffle along in the queue. The girl behind the plexi-glass window sees me out the corner of her eye and continues to monitor her customer’s products but I know she is thinking about me. The way she purses her lips gives away her disgust. The buzzer sounds and customer 4572 inserts his card into the payment slot. No unauthorised items. His units are deducted, his items are dispatched into suitable biodegradable packaging and off he goes. Relief obvious on his jowly face."
The Green Man
Looking for a fresh start, Maison moves to a remote country village. But instead of finding the peace and tranquility she'd hoped for, she discovers something rather more sinister in the shadows of England's green and pleasant land. "She let go of the tree then looked at it closely. It was gnarly and seeping sap but just a tree. She moved around the trunk, her boots sinking into the soft earth. As she touched the ridges and bumps she expected to feel the reassurance that the tree was ordinary and the same as all the others, but instead she felt sick, a wave of revulsion washing over her as she moved away from it. Instinctively she wiped her hand on her parka. At first she didn’t understand what she was feeling but then she saw it. Gouged deep into the wood was the outline of a face, eyes fixed down and staring directly at her."
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