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Leon Craig
Leon Craig is a writer and editor based in Berlin. She has written for the TLS, the Literary ReviewAnother Gaze and the London Magazine among others. Her queer gothic short story collection Parallel Hells is published by Sceptre Books and she is currently working on her first novel The Decadence.

Articles Available Online


Cosy Violence

Book Review

June 2023

Leon Craig

Book Review

June 2023

The 22 year old Australian narrator of K Patrick’s sensuous, subversive debut novel is a long way from home. A matron at an unnamed...

Fiction

September 2021

Lick the Dust

Leon Craig

Fiction

September 2021

When you misplace something in the library here, it stays lost for a very long time. The eighteenth-century catalogue...

No terrain is impossible for the Urban Cyclist His powerful legs drive the pedals down in alternation, right, left, right, left, calculating the degree of incline by the strength required of his thigh and calf muscles for each complete revolution of the front sprocket The soles of his feet and palms of his hands read each vibration transferred from the tyres to the handlebars and frame, making micro-adjustments to his direction and balance at a speed faster than thought The initial uphill stretch when he first leaves the house is short and serves to lubricate his joints and warm up his muscles He quickly reaches Reservation Street Its sloping cobbled lanes are separated by a grassy central reservation Five blocks to The Strip Knowing every inch of the way like the back of his hand doesn’t make the challenge any less dangerous for the Urban Cyclist From one week to the next, so much can change A resident might decide to have a new driveway put in so they can park their car in the garage more comfortably, and may have to deposit mounds of sand, gravel and cement in the middle of the pavement, an example of the kind of mutant obstacle for which the true Urban Cyclist must be prepared There are dogs that shoot out like rockets from behind walls to try to snaffle a bit of their favourite food, an unwary cyclist’s shin Even trees, an apparently peaceful and inoffensive element of the natural world, from one week to the next push out branches and roots, which can obstruct the Cyclist’s path Weeds sprout from the pavement, concealing pebbles, holes and bricks that can catch one by surprise and cause serious accidents from which only the most skilled, experienced cyclists emerge unscathed   The day is auspicious for a high-risk, high-speed ride It’s chilly out, with a cold wind of medium intensity and a clear sky Although the wind causes certain discomfort, whipping the Cyclist’s face and making breathing difficult, it means he perspires less, thus reducing the need to wipe sweat from his eyes and the

Contributor

April 2016

Leon Craig

Contributor

April 2016

Leon Craig is a writer and editor based in Berlin. She has written for the TLS, the Literary Review, Another Gaze and the London Magazine among...

Art Review

April 2019

Oscar Wilde Temple, Studio Voltaire

Leon Craig

Art Review

April 2019

The light is dim, the air richly scented. Little purple tea lights flicker in the votive candle rack and...

[Getting] Down with Gal Pals

Feature

November 2018

Leon Craig

Feature

November 2018

There’s a moment in Laura Kaye’s underrated novel English Animals when the protagonist Mirka, sitting in the village bar with her married lover, notices...
Mute Canticle

Prize Entry

April 2016

Leon Craig

Prize Entry

April 2016

Giulio the singing fascist came to pick me up from the little airport in his Jeep. He made sure to come round and hold...

READ NEXT

poetry

June 2011

Beautiful Poetry

Camille Guthrie

poetry

June 2011

‘Being so caught up So mastered.’ Yeats     I was too shy to say anything but Your poems...

Interview

June 2015

Interview with Moyra Davey

Hannah Gregory

Interview

June 2015

One way to think about Moyra Davey’s way of working across photography, film and text is in terms of...

fiction

March 2011

In the Field

Jesse Loncraine

fiction

March 2011

There were flickers of red in the water, a tint the colour of blood. He stood in the river,...

 

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