If the story matters, so does the voice
Writing
Sound & Script Studio creates immersive storytelling for page and stage, from poetry and spoken word to fiction that connects with readers and live audiences.
CURRENT PROJECTS:
(Not yet published)
NEURAL WITNESS -
Their creation promised justice.
It delivered something far darker.
Cal, Marcus, and Ray were inseparable - three brilliant minds on the edge of graduation, united by the promise of change. Their final-year project was meant to be groundbreaking: an AI simulation that could reconstruct crimes from the victim's point of view.
But on presentation day, their masterpiece becomes a nightmare. The simulation doesn't just observe, it embodies. And when a fatal flaw in the code awakens something no one anticipated, the fallout will sever bonds, silence truth, and leave one of them behind.
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WHEN SILENCE BOOMED -
This anthology is a journey through light and shadow, hope and heartache. Drawn from deeply personal experiences, these poems explore the weight of difficult moments while also celebrating the joy found in brighter days. Each piece is written with honesty and care, offering reflections on love, loss, resilience, and the quiet beauty of being human.
For those seeking connection, comfort, or simply a glimpse into another’s world, this collection invites you to pause, feel, and reflect - whether in the darker chapters or the uplifting ones.
SNIPPET ALERT!
Nature's Rest:
I recently took part in a wellbeing course through work, provided by The Literary Fund. It was about writing for self-expression, something I’d not really considered as a term before, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised personally that that is literally what my creations are, whether in the forms of my books, poems, artwork, music or voice work, it is all self-expression!
In this course, we were given two poems to read and were asked to use one line from each to write whatever came to our minds.
The first poem created a sense of calm in my mind, and so this bit of writing reflects that.
I hope you remember the quiet of the trees,
the moment you feel the cool morning breeze.
As the light shines through and reflects off the path,
and the sounds of your loved ones as they play and they laugh.
I hope you remember the water as it flowed,
gently licking at the banks where the toads and reeds grow.
The birds that sail past as the current takes them through,
flowing further down the river, bobbing slowly on the blue.
I hope you remember the dirt under your feet,
that connection to the earth as you walk to the beat
of your heart, echoing deep inside your soul,
as your mind finally rests, enjoying the whispered lull.
(TITLE TBC)- A sneak preview at a very rough first draft
Skeptar slowly shifted below. The hammering turbulence had quietened, and the planet that was supposed to have all the answers peered through the cracks in the clouds. He shifted steadily towards the window, resting his forehead against it as he took it all in. Apart from the glowing redness shining up at him, there wasn’t all that much to look at. All they’d found on the ground were clouds filled with embers, lava flowing across empty lands, and them.
A flash of purple ricocheted off the side of the ship as his head bounced off the window. A deathly shrill rang out as he hastily shuffled back to the console, rubbing the pain from his forehead. It was now or never if he was going to escape. His bloody fingers hovered over the homeward-bound diamond.
Three, two, one!
The ship shuddered as he crushed the button, throwing him back from the console as the ship performed a sharp 90 degrees turn, putting the raging planet directly behind him and out of sight. The piercing sound had stopped, giving him a moment to hear the engines roaring. Bright streaks flew past the windows, getting quicker with every second, enough to create some distance between the Vorlyn and the angry planet. I might actually make it home to alert the others.
The shrill sounded again, this time with her voice ringing out throughout the ship.
“Warp-drive failed. Engines at 27%.”
He slumped into the closest chair with a loud sigh, closing his eyes as he succumbed to the disappointment and anaesthesia taking over his body.
I’m sorry, Mellie. Daddy’s sorry.