White Label

Support the Work

Four ways to be part of what we're building.

Reader Free

Everything on the site. All 27 chapters of Shredded Time, the quick reads, the audio, the JazzSo archive, the randomiser. No account required — but we'd like to stay in touch.

  • Full access to all published content
  • No registration, no barrier
  • Optional sign-up for occasional updates
Sign up for updates
Subscriber £5 / month

For those who want to stay inside the world as it develops. New content arrives occasionally, without schedule. You'll hear about it first.

  • Notification when new chapters, audio or content is added
  • The White Label newsletter — occasional dispatches on the work
  • Everything in the free tier
Subscribe — coming soon
Serious Enquiry £100 — first consultation

White Label works with people who have something worth making. Writing, radio production, creative consultancy. The first conversation costs £100. What follows is open.

  • Initial consultation — one hour, your brief
  • Honest assessment of what's possible
  • No obligation beyond the first conversation
Make an enquiry
From the archive

Among the papers recovered from Cameron Strange's London address was a letter, apparently written in the early 1970s, addressed to no one in particular. It was never sent. We don't know who it was intended for. We think we do now.

London, sometime in 1973

I have been trying to write a letter of thanks for several weeks now, and finding it more difficult than writing the book itself — which, as you may have gathered, is saying something.

The difficulty is this: I don't quite know what I'm thanking you for. Not the money, or not only the money. Something more like the act of believing that a thing is worth finishing before you've seen whether it is. That particular variety of faith is rarer than it looks, and I am aware that I have been the beneficiary of it.

I have tried to write something that is honest about time — about the way it accumulates and the way it shreds. Whether I have managed it, I genuinely don't know. You will be a better judge of that than I am.

With more gratitude than I know how to express without embarrassing us both,

Cameron Strange
Recovered from the papers of Cameron Strange · London, 1995 · Unpublished