Pages for the commute
out now in hardback
For those who do not know me and for people who know me really well, but didn't know this bit, let me explain 'the DG Coutinho' thing, simply put, it is my pen name. It comes from an equal marriage of the initials of my real name and a family name on my mum's side ( they are very Portuguese-Goan Catholic.)
I chose it as something to separate the creative from the professional writing I have to do each day, Mainly, because in that job I really am not allowed to make anything up. legally. (contrary to some very popular opinion)
I am also a film editor, a trade union activist, a Liverpool fan and ferociously dyslexic. I find neither spiders nor right-wing politics even vaguely attractive.
I have three children and partner, who helpfully suggested that I should do this before I die.
I have been writing lots of words since I was quite, quite small but it has taken me years to get it together and actually make books and other things out of them that other people may want to read.
When I was small, I lost my voice, don’t get me wrong, I could speak,
I just could not talk,
AWARD WINNING, INTERNATIONAL SELLING AUTHOR OF DAYS OF GRACE, PROOF OF LOVE AND REPERCUSSIONS HAS THIS TO SAY ABOUT ' TONGUE TIED'
I can’t tell you how much I hate my boss. He is the Darth Vader of youth work. Like a professionally registered anti- Christ or something. Everybody else thinks he’s River Phoenix returned in social enterprise reincarnation
All Ezi wanted was a Friday night, a maybe a little dancing, definitely some drinking, but absolutely no bumping into the boss and being roped in to helping him chase around town after his daughter just so he could restore familial order, no, definitely not that....
Martin is an absolute 7 and lives with his mummy called Helena. Helena now lives Clara, but she used to live with Martin's daddy who everybody called big Martin well everyone except Martin's uncle Tunde who called big Martin a fucking bastard
This is a short story I am working on about negotiating divorce when you are only 7 years old and trying to understand why adults spend their entire time shouting
It is India, 1897. The British own everything, everything in India, that is and quite a lot more. Red maps indicate the boundaries of their possessions mashed together from what they have managed to grab with force, bad policy, disease and trickery.
This is a novel I am working on about death taking the day off to save a family from losing their children, only to be scuppered by their sister Mother Nature at every turn.
yeah imma got me an instagram page
go on click the titles treat yourself to a book or two