In the center of Brighton, beside the iconic nineteenth-century clock tower, stands a small solitary tree. It is an olive tree, an evergreen that retains small leathery leaves into the winter. The tree stands at a junction, especially busy during rush hour on a Friday...
However many books on writing we read, and however many novels we have consumed in our genre, there are still things that we get wrong as new novelists. I know I fall into these traps. I also reviewed a friend’s manuscript the other day and found myself telling... 
