http://newregionalgeographies.wordpress.com/ The New Regional Geographies blog is about my current research on Bosnia. Literary Hitchhiking relates to my work in the footprints of the poet Edward...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2014/02/18/new-regional-geographies-blog/
Book Review FDP member Margaret Keeping’s novel, A Conscious Englishman, about the last years of Edward Thomas’s life was published in February. StreetBooks, ISBN 978-0-9564242-3-5, paperback...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2013/10/04/book-review-a-conscious-englishman/
New Regional Geographies (For Sarajevo) is funded for three years by the Leverhulme Trust. http://newregionalgeographies.wordpress.com/ Dr James Riding is a Cultural Geographer interested in lite...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2013/07/07/new-regional-geographies-for-sarajevo/
First Known When Lost traces the footprints of nature writer and poet Edward Thomas. A resident of England for all his life, but with Welsh heritage, Edward Thomas believed he belonged nowhere. H...
smoking by the biffa bins; piss wet through us and the rats down the alley behind boots the curls of blue smoke bury themselves in our clothes and your hair bedraggled burns a graven image never ...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2012/04/09/alley-rats/
concentrating hard on nothing sweaty flesh aching muscles no memory of words only basic landforms corn field barbed wire fence trees distant a desire path follow i...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2011/10/06/hay-fever/
Find beauty in damaged things; watch a bird with broken wings that in a sad tone loudly sings and to you its soul it brings.
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/we-are-all-damaged-goods/
A grey box on the edge of town, Some corners straight up and down, Inside there could be anything, The facade is faceless and unrevealing. It could house a house for a mouse, A rat for a cat or s...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/grey-box/
Some horses wandered back and forth unhindered, across a farmers field under pylons chained. Nothing much else happened when the train stopped on the outskirts of Minehead, bar the horses being i...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/some-horses/
Beyond the pane of a packed train, a lonely cow sat in solitude in a field. Separated from the other slack-jawed fat cattle, crowded around the gate, mindlessly grouped to wait, discussing the la...
https://literaryhitchhiking.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/lonely-cow/