Helen Henley describes literature as being
the oldest profession because writing on cave walls predated sex, then
still evolving and awaiting suitable guides, text books and chat-up
lines. An unashamed fan of comedy, she believes modern fiction takes
itself far too seriously. So she tries to inject humour, parody and
satire into her stories with varying degrees of success evinced by the
growing pile of rejections. She has somehow managed to publish two
books, had a number of her short stories appear in various magazines
together with articles commissioned by editors who were deluded into
thinking she is an expert on female erotica.
She has retired to live in rural England where she continues to write short stories, rude letters to politicians, prune her roses and polish her boots. She also likes exchanging emails on every subject with fellow scribes and tries to disabuse young writers who want to believe you can make a healthy and luxurious living out of the business. You can’t but it’s fun trying.
She has retired to live in rural England where she continues to write short stories, rude letters to politicians, prune her roses and polish her boots. She also likes exchanging emails on every subject with fellow scribes and tries to disabuse young writers who want to believe you can make a healthy and luxurious living out of the business. You can’t but it’s fun trying.