KHALID PATEL

The bulk of the work, word or visual, often happens in a shatter of creativity, feverish bursts of scribbles, keystrokes, sweeps, dabs. Then the cooler process of refinement.

Writing fiction with stern intent began in my last days as a student, the toil deepened by a spell of unemployment after graduation. This stretch yielded working drafts of a short story, “Red”, novella, Dr Craine’s Body, and novel, Hollow Shotguns. Stirred by the surge in independent publishing, the drafts were scattered about with slapped-on cover art while they continued to be honed. An underground publishing house got primed too, tagline… Not a fucking beach read.

The snags of life catch and tear. Day jobs. Health. Fiscal woes. But the shatters still come. The cooler task unfurls. These Shards, picked among the shatters, will reveal, reflect, build a record of the creative process.