Category Archives: Personal

The Siren Song

Living a few hundred yards, as the crow flies, from a fire station isn’t something you think about, most of the time. During the day, the hum of traffic both near and distant, combined with the general background hubbub of the daytime that you never truly hear, but notice strongly by its absence as night falls, make it something that barely registers on your conscious mind.

In the deepest pit of the night, this changes. Your slumber is never truly deep, as the bell that fire stations once favoured has been replaced with a klaxon. Sleep is broken by that muffled, yet insistent wail… woooOOOOP-woooOOOOP-woooOOOOP. I wake, curse the klaxon and sulk for a few seconds, before remembering that the klaxon’s wail means that someone, somewhere, is in trouble; to hear the klaxon is to hear the sound of help departing for those unfortunates.

I roll over, damning myself as an inconsiderate, stone-hearted, bastard. I close my eyes again and fall back into the arms of Morpheus, embracing his transcendent kiss, lulled back to sleep by the gentling song of the passing fire engine.

weeeOOOOP
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.
.
Weeep-Weeep-Weeep
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.
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HOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

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Superinjunctions: The beginning of the end for the free press?

I try my best to keep my political views away from this blog. I make no apologies for the views I do hold, strongly to the left, but I try to keep things reasonably light hearted and personal here. If people want to read about politics there are approximately eleventy squajillion political blogs out there, both good and bad, and I figure people can find their own way to them without me adding my own flavour of screed to the cacophony.

I also hold strong opinions about the press and media in this country, but I think that sites such as the magisterial Tabloid Watch, Angry Mob and Five Chinese Crackers do a far better job than I ever could in flagging the hypocrisy of the British media.

That being said, this new trend for granting “superinjunctions” is a disturbing one, to say the very least. I first became aware of the “superinjunction” in 2009 after it went public that Trafigura had taken one out to prevent The Guardian from reporting on the dumping of toxic waste in Ivory Coast. I later heard of them again after all that ridiculous brouhaha about John Terry’s love life (I won’t dignify that non-story with a link).

Today it emerged that Fred Goodwin is Not a Banker; or at least, not if the superinjunction he tried to take out had anything to say about it. There are many interesting issues surrounding the injunction, not least of which is the tacit acknowledgement that the word ‘banker’ is now pejorative in tone, but that’s another blog post for someone else to write. The problem is, superinjunctions are dangerous and easily open to abuse. The Trafigura and Fred Goodwin stories only came to light under the protection of Parliamentary Privilege

If you can’t even acknowledge the fact that a company or individual has brought action against you, you are effectively court ordered to excise a legal proceeding from existence. I don’t care whether you’re a multinational corporation covering up misdeeds, a footballer covering up having your end away with a former team mate’s ex-girlfriend (a sentence I’m ashamed to write) or the inept, blundering, cockwaffle of a useless banker, yes, BANKER, who presided over the collapse of RBS, the fiscal equivalent of being the captain of a ship who knowingly steers straight into shallows and grounds the vessel. No-one should be able to use the law of the land as a blunt instrument to silence those who report on their misdeeds, sexual antics or the plain fact of what they once (incompetently) did for a living. Are the press running a blatantly false story? Then a plain old injunction is good enough, it prevents them running the story and justice is done.

Any action beyond that is a flagrant abuse of the system and, furthermore, it’s the kind of abuse only open to those with enough money to hire the most expensive of legal teams in the first place, effectively meaning there is one rule for the rich and another for everyone else. A two tier legal system is wrong on every level I can possibly think of.

Anyway, rant over. Since Fred Goodwin is Not a Banker, let me see if I can figure out what he really is…

Fred Goodwin is a Circus Clown?

Fred Goodwin is a Zoo Monkey?

Fred Goodwin is a Small Bed & Breakfast Just Outside Tunbridge Wells?

Fred Goodwin was a small arboreal maniraptoran that hoarded the eggs of other species? (hat tip to Jake Kale)

Fred Goodwin is a Member of the Bolshoi Ballet?

Fred Goodwin is a Rich, Entitled, Shitweasel Who Has The Temerity to Try and Pretend That He Didn’t Break RBS to the Tune of a £20 Billion Taxpayer Funded Bailout?

Yeah, I think that’s the one. Shitweasel. I could be wrong of course, why not say what Fred Goodwin is in the comments, maybe we can stumble onto the truth by accident…

In Which I Pontificate on Narrative Voices (and concede a minor defeat)

You might have seen one of my comments mentioning my grandly ambitious plans to use seven distinct writing styles for the five and two half POV characters in my current work in progress. If you did, then I’m here to tell you that that particular plan has had to be abandoned, hence my silence for the past ten days or so. I’ve had to throw out or retool approximately 20,000 words. Not my favourite thing I’ve ever had to do, but the plain fact is it wasn’t working. Each POV switch jarred too heavily and it felt as if each character was part of a different novel. That sounds very cute and clever in theory, but in practice it makes for a very choppy and disjointed story which doesn’t flow very well from one scene into another.

I’ve been having to rewrite things in something that approaches a consistent narrative voice and add minor flourishes of colour in character’s internal monologue or descriptive passages, which has taken up a lot of my time. I’m getting caught up to myself again, though, so normal service will be resumed soon. I’ll throw up a little taster of one of the other characters very soon.

Until then…

y carnt danyul rite?

I’ve managed to reaffirm something I secretly knew all along, during my absence from the internet while I tried to work on an idea I had for a swords & sorcery novel. I can’t write fantasy fiction for toffee. I’m not sure why this should be the case, since every other style of story I attempt, I at least make a readable hash out of, if not an actual worthwhile story (See Redcap for evidence of such). For no good reason I can figure out, when I try to write swords & sorcery-style fantasy, my brain turns to mulch and everything I write is, well, terrible.

Now understand, this isn’t a crisis of confidence or a novice writer’s natural doubt. I play the self deprecation card often enough in my blogging, but I’m also self aware enough to know that on my best days I’m good. My best work will stand up favourably against a surprising number of published writers, I simply lack the consistency that comes with experience. One day, with enough hard work, I’ll get there. The plain, simple, unavoidable fact, is that when I try to write secondary world fantasy everything falls apart. Every tool I’ve picked up stops working, every trick I’ve learned fails miserably and my natural ability to just keep banging the keyboard until something worthwhile appears deserts me. No matter how many words I grind out, the result is uniformly terrible and no amount of rewriting can make it into a readable piece of fiction. As the old saying goes, you can’t polish a turd. (Whatever Mythbusters might say to the contrary)

Why can’t I write secondary world fantasy? This isn’t because I don’t understand the territory, goodness knows I read enough of it. It isn’t because I don’t appreciate the genre, since I’m of the firm belief that fantasy fiction in the past decade has undergone a renaissance and is now producing some of the most exciting and interesting fiction to come about in the genre for a couple of decades. I’d even go so far as to say that I think the genre is entering something of a golden age. It isn’t because I’ve failed to do my preparation, since I’ve had the secondary world I intend to use built for at least ten years now. Geography, history, politics, economy, demographics, population densities, the whole kit and caboodle. So far as I can tell, it’s for no other reason than I’m simply not cut out for it. This is extremely frustrating, since usually when a particular style of writing is troubling me I can figure out the root cause of that trouble, then work on improving it.

Anyways, long story short. Novel is dead. Working on a short piece of sexy urban fantasy (what? What? I can’t try something outside my comfort zone as a reader, now and again?), complete with hard boiled dialogue and the re-tooling of a very special guest appearance which was initially pencilled into chapter eight of the abortive attempt at a swords & sorcery novel.

Back soon, and with an experimental short story to throw at the internet and see if it sticks.

A Few Things That I Don’t Understand

I’m not going to lie to you all and pretend I’m some kind of Stephen Fry-esque genius, the kind of person who knows a at least a little bit of something about damned near everything. Some things just bug me, though. The kind of weird, niggly, gaps in my knowledge that I’d be too embarrassed to ask an expert about. Here are some of them. If you happen to stumble across this and actually are an expert in one the things I’m baffled by, then by all means and for the love of all that’s good and holy leave an answer in the comments.

Piss Shivers: Just after taking a whizz, my whole body will judder and I’ll make an involuntary – and startlingly loud – noise. Something like “Bwmnghnnngghur!” Not only do I not know why my body does this, but I can’t even think of a legitimate reason for it to do this. Bodies usually know what they’re doing, even if the brain doesn’t have a god-damned clue about what’s going on. This just strikes me as weird. I mean picture the scene… You’re a paleolithic era hunter-gatherer, stalking through the North European landscape hunting for deer. You stop to take a leak, carefully choosing somewhere your scent won’t carry to any prey in the area. You’re mostly finished, but as the last few drops squeeze out… “BWANGAHURRRGTHRP!” With that baffling cry, every bit of prey within two square miles takes to its heels and you starve to death during the winter. Where is this good evolutionary strategy?

Askmen.com: Seriously, I’ve looked at that site and for the life of me I don’t know who the hell it’s aimed at. Have you seen it yet? Go and have a look at it now, I’ll wait for you to come back before I continue… Ah, you’re back! Is it meant to be ironic humour? Serious advice for confused men? A huge, complicated, practical joke at the expense of the kind of dickwad who takes that shit seriously? I mean, come on! Smoking a pipe is a manly ritual that should be brought back? Smoking, and bear in mind I say this as someone who smokes like the chimney of an industrial revolution era factory, is something that should never be recommended to anyone, except maybe suicidal people who intend to go through a long bucket list first. Then die horribly as gasping, wheezing, cancerous, emphysema racked,  shells of their former selves. (Yes, yes. I should quit. I know that. Let’s accept that fact and move on)

“Lateral Thinking” Puzzles: I hate that shit. You know the kind of thing, “A man is eating in a restaurant, receives the bill, pays for his dinner and thanks the waitress, then goes outside and kills a taxi driver. Why?” then the answer ends up being something ridiculous like “The taxi driver sexually abused him when he was four years old” What I hate most about it, is that it is supposed to encourage lateral thought, but all it really encourages is wild guessing until you hit on the exactly specified “answer”. To make matters even worse, the idiot posing this as a puzzle will look at/listen to sometimes dozens of wrong answers, before smugly trotting out the right one as if you’re all idiots for not having the key piece of knowledge missing from the original question. This crap doesn’t make you smarter than me, just a fuckload more annoying. And I’m someone who picks my nose and wipes the snot on the undersides of coffee tables.

Coffee tables: Their existence doesn’t confuse me. They’re useful and practical items of furniture, handy repositories for magazines, ashtrays, paperback novels, laptop computers, unpaid bills and – as mentioned above – the undersides are a great place to stash recently mined nostril gold. What baffles me about them is their name. “Coffee tables” implies that these things were specifically made to put down your cup of coffee. But we live in Britain, renowned all over the world as a tea drinking culture, even more so when these little tables became the latest must-have bit of furniture, so why name them for the nation’s second favourite hot beverage?

Painful extrusion of digestive gases through the rectum: Also known (at least amongst my friends and acquaintances) as “Thorny Wind”. Let’s not be coy about this, we all fart. Whether it’s the loud raspy one when we’re at home, the quiet squelchy one in the lift that smells like a dead badger and leaves you praying no-one else gets on before you reach your floor, the one-cheek-sneak on the bus or in the queue in the bank, this is all perfectly normal. However, sometimes your rectum bowls you a googly. Everything proceeds as normal, then BAM! Your rectum feels as if some miniature sadist crept up behind you and hammered a nine-inch nail up your back passage. I’ve checked this with several people and those who’ve answered my question (mostly men, you won’t be surprised to hear) have experienced this and find it as painful and baffling as I do. No-one likes to be caught out farting in public, so being caught out by leaping into the air, clutching yourself and shouting “SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS! PHONE AN AMBULANCE, I THINK MY ARSE IS BROKEN!” is just downright humiliating, plus it’s a terrible reason to get barred from your local branch of M&S.

That’s all for now, but these are the things that prey on mind. I’m going to stop now, before you all think I’m some kind of (even bigger) weirdo, but I will round off this almost one thousand word rant by posing one question: What irritating gaps are there in your knowledge?

Film Review: Tekken

Tekken, based on the popular series of beat ’em up video games, is the latest in a long line of game to film adaptations. Keeping to the traditions of said adaptations, Tekken is uniformly awful. Before I go on, or you read any further into this review (i.e. rant), let me tell you that there are plot spoilers involved ( for a given value of the word “plot”). Let me also tell you that this means nothing significant, since the film is barely coherent to begin with. More after the cut…

Continue reading

A beginners guide to reading fantasy fiction

Being a small list of stories for the novice fantasy reader to sink their teeth into, before heading off into the choppier waters of the more modern, or even post-modern fantasy out there.

First of all, the recognisably “real world” approach to fantasy…

Chase the Morning – Michael Scott Rohan A gentle introduction to the fiction of the fantastic. It’s rooted firmly in the modern world, although it veers off rapidly into a realm of magic based on the span of human history, travel, folklore and trade. The “secondary world” element of the novel is a shadow world where all of history and myth can be reached by anyone willing to travel far enough and for long enough.

Age of Misrule – Mark Chadbourn A trilogy of novels, about what happens to the modern world when the technology stops working and the old Celtic magic and creatures of folklore come back. Fine novels, with a good blend of action, intrigue and emotional kick. any novel in which a group of heroes try to outrun the Wild Hunt in a transit van has to be worth a look, right?

American Gods – Neil Gaiman You can get away with this one by telling yourself it’s Literature (big L my emphasis). A dark, complex, multi-layered tale of con tricks, coin tricks, dying Gods, a young nation’s borrowed folklore and the impact of the modern world on belief in the supernatural – and vice versa. It also has snappy dialogue and a very kinky sex scene.

Watership Down – Richard Adams A secondary world fantasy in all but name, this book has achieved classic status with some considerable degree of merit, don’t let the fact that it’s about little fluffy bunnies fool you. By turns dark, brutal, haunting, complex, deeply emotional and downright scary in places, this is required reading for anyone who’s genuinely looking to get into fantastic fiction. You won’t regret it.

A Wrinkle in Time – Madeline L’Engle Is it fantasy? Is it Sci-fi? Is it a children’s book? All three questions get a resounding yes for their answer, but just because a book is marketed as being for children, doesn’t mean it has nothing in there for adults to take away from it, even it’s only a sense of awe at the size of the author’s imagination. Find a copy, read it, then be surprised at the complexity and emotional resonance and honesty in a book aimed at children.

And now, for the books which fall into the category of “High” or “Epic” fantasy, as well as “Swords & Sorcery”

The Lord of the Rings – J.R.R. Tolkien You don’t have to finish it, it took me three attempts to get through it for the first time and I love this kind of thing, but you should certainly give it a really good go. There has still never been a more fully realised secondary world built in all of fantasy fiction. Almost all of the criticisms levelled at it are true; it’s dry in places, the characters can be one-dimensional, the morality is very black and white, if you don’t skim over them the poems in it can wear you down, the approach to class, race, sex and social standing in the book can seem anachronistic to modern sensibilities and the dialogue is, well, downright laughable in places. It’s also on an epic scale in a way that few stories have managed before or since, sweeping in scope, unparalleled in imaginative achievement and in places the writing is genuinely beautiful, far more often than the occasional clunky sentence or paragraph that the book’s loudest critics always pounce on (the same few examples of such, mostly). What’s more, almost every secondary world fantasy since LotR has been a reaction against, a response to, or an imitation of this book. It helps you to see the genre more clearly, if you have at least a nodding acquaintance with its roots.

A Wizard of Earthsea – Ursula K. Le Guin One of the first secondary world fantasies to achieve major success after Tolkien, the Earthsea novels are a strange and wonderful mix of earthly, and earthy, characters and high magic. Le Guin has a far better feel for characterisation than Tolkien and while the story burns more slowly, it takes a deeper root into the subconscious of the reader. Less of an adventure story (although there’s plenty of that too) and more of a character study of a young man with great power. Well worth seeking out.

Swords /* – Fritz Leiber “/*” meaning any one of “Against Deviltry”, “Against Death”, “in the Mist”, “Against Wizardry” or “of Lankhmar”. These collections of short stories represent some of the best “Swords & Sorcery” adventure to be had. Away from Tolkien’s “High Fantasy”, in America there was already a booming trade in down and dirty, sword swinging, thieving and womanising adventures and Leiber as good as cornered the market in them back in the old pulp magazine days. If you like your stories fast paced, action packed and filled with dashing heroes, desperate fights, monsters and buxom maidens, then these are the stories for you.

Magician – Raymond E. Feist Another epic fantasy, this time of a slightly different nature. This one borrows heavily from the American swords and sorcery tradition and marries it to the epic style of Tolkien. Other books had tried it before and many more have done so since, but few have done it with such ease and readability as the first novel in the Riftwar saga. A thoroughly enjoyable page turner and worth a couple of quid of anyone’s money.

The First Law – Joe Abercrombie Now that you’ve read the other novels (you have read them all, right?), it’s time to see where modern fantasy lies. It lies in a bloody mess on the floor, where Abercrombie’s characters stabbed it in the testicles and took its money pouch. The First Law is the first series of novels to truly place characters who  feel genuinely real into a story of epic quests and high stakes with the whole world hanging in the balance. Littered with memorable characters, including a corrupt and self-serving torturer, a mass murderer, a spoiled lordling and a woman beater with a murderous temper as the heroes of the story, then you have some notion of what the book is like. Only a notion though. It’s far more brutal, exciting, morally ambiguous and funny than I make it sound.

Now, go forth and read. Hopefully enjoy, too. These books should amuse, delight and enthuse most readers. If nothing else, there’s some serious weight of paper amongst them, so you’ll never be short of a doorstop if the books don’t engage you the way I think they will.

Announcement!

Remember when I wrote a little while ago that I thought it was time I wrote something in novel length? Well, that time is upon me. I’ve gone very quiet so far as the internet goes over the last few weeks, while I figure out in my head what I’m going to be doing. I’m not going to be writing this novel for attempted professional publication. It’s a well established fact that first attempts at writing novels are almost entirely made out of suckium – the same element that most airport thrillers are made from – so I’m just going to throw it at the internet under a Creative Commons license to see if any of it sticks. The main reasons for doing this, are that I lack test readers, like feedback and genuinely want to see if I have what it takes to write long form fiction. If I think I have the chops for it (i.e. I actually finish it and universal opinion isn’t of the “Your story sucks monkey balls” variety), future attempts at novel length works will be heading off to agents and/or publishing houses.

Now, what kind of story will I be telling? It’ll be a Swords & Sorcery, pulp style, adventure novel with a secondary world setting and multiple viewpoints. I’m doing this because I’ve got a worrying tendency to write angsty protagonists and I fear that sticking with the horror genre I feel comfortable in will ensure I fall into this trap again. There’ll probably be dark magic and cosmic horrors in the story as well, after all Swords & Sorcery virtually runs on this trope, but it won’t be of the “Mortal man was not meant to look upon such things” and the hero goes insane, type of endings. At least, I don’t think it will; stories always change between the planning stage and the actual writing.

I won’t be putting myself under any kind of self enforced deadline on this. I’ve got a life away from the keyboard and sometimes that takes priority – especially when all of my writing is of the I’m-not-getting-paid-for-this variety – but, all things being equal, it should end up completed at some unspecified point in 2011. I’m a “wrestle the words onto the page” kind of writer, not a “words flow freely from my lightning quick blister-fingers” kind of writer. That’s just how I roll.

P.S. Expect a few “edits to add” while I get one or two other things sorted out.

Edit to Add: I’m going to be keeping a diary of the actual writing process as I go along. I won’t be keeping it here, though. I’ve decided, wisely or not, to keep the writing diary in separate place to Stuff & Nonsense, which I now intend to use as a repository for things I’ve actually thought out first. Completed thoughts, rants, finished stories and chapters, reviews of things I find interesting (or really rubbish), links to things you might enjoy (like this!) and so on. Stuff & Nonsense is where the finished stuff goes, the newly formed “I Slap Raptors” (did you hear that faint rumbling noise? Somewhere, a volcano erupted as Mother Nature sought to punctuate such an awesome journal name appropriately) over on Livejournal is where I do the writerly pontificating about process and so on. That stuff is only of interest other writerly types and there’s no sense clogging up Stuff & Nonsense with it.

A List of Horror Stories You Should Really Seek Out (If you haven’t already)

Because I’ve been talking a bit about horror lately, as well as having posted a few amateurish examples of my own work on here, I’m going to go ahead and pretend that people give a stuff about my opinions and post a list of short horror stories which I think people should have read by now, if they haven’t already. I specifically listed shorts because I firmly believe that with horror stories, unlike so many other things, shorter is always better. The order is simply the sequence I listed them in, not an order of preference.

1. Eric the Pie – Graham Masterton I can’t recommend this horrible and horribly effective piece of suburban grand guignol highly enough. One of the best splatter stories I’ve ever read. Even better, you can download the PDF for free at Graham Masterton’s website, here, along with several other shorts should you so desire.

2. The Signalman – Charles Dickens A creepy and effective morality tale from a man high school literature lessons may have mistakenly taught you to hate. Hunt out an anthology that contains this story immediately. I promise you won’t regret it.

3. Oh, Whistle and I’ll Come to You, My Lad – M.R. James I’ve listed this one, but in truth I could have picked any James story. He was a genuine master of the low key story of creeping terror and slowly mounting tension. I chose this one, mainly for the evocative title. Just seeing it listed on the contents page of any anthology is enough to send an anticipatory shiver down the spine.

4. Pickman’s Model – H. P. Lovecraft Most people would immediately go to one of Lovecraft’s many tales of cosmic horror, or else The Rats in the Walls, but I chose this one because of its simplicity and the surprisingly deft way in which Lovecraft layers his prose from the simple opening to the hysterics of the denouement.

5. The Jury – Gerald Durrell I can’t say for certain whether this is genuinely a great horror story, or simply made more effective for being sandwiched in between Durrell’s signature gently humourous travelogues. Well worth seeking out anyway, since even if my memory has made it seem scarier in retrospect, you’ll still have Durrell’s thoroughly enjoyable memoirs to read.

6. We’re Going Where The Sun Shines Brightly – Christopher Fowler An unpleasant little tale, about unpleasant things happening to unpleasant people. Typically English in sensibility, brilliantly executed and nicely ambiguous in tone. Nothing gets explained satisfactorily either, which is always a bonus for me with short works of horror.

7. The Fall of the House Usher – Edgar Allan Poe A masterpiece of American Gothic. A lot of people claim it’s derivative of Poe’s earlier works, but since I read this one first, after seeing the Roger Corman film adaptation on television one night as a child, it remains my favourite.

8. No Sharks in the Med – Brian Lumley A typically English tale of a smug bugger getting his comeuppance.

9. The Lottery – Shirley Jackson Like I wasn’t going to list this one? If you like horror, especially modern horror, then this really is required reading.

10. Troll Bridge – Neil Gaiman Some people may argue that this is fantasy, due to it being a retelling of an ancient faiy tale, but they can get stuffed. Fairy tales were the horror stories of their day and this one is no different.

That should be enough for you to be getting on with, if you’re far enough from the horror mainstream to have managed to have read half or less of the stories above, get busy finding them. You won’t regret it.

Long overdue update

I can’t pretend I’m the most dedicated blogger. That being said, I’ve neglected this place for long enough now. Between the World Cup and some real world stuff, I’ve been entirely preoccupied of late. So, on to matters updatey without delay.

1. The World Cup blog. I’ve ditched it, quite unceremoniously and unannounced. I’ve learned something important from this. While I love football passionately, I don’t like writing about it. Writing fiction, or waffling inanely in posts on here and comments on blogs and fora (forums? fori?) feels like fun. Writing about football feels like work. Unpaid work at that. From now on, I’m just going to post my football or sports opinions that I simply must get off my chest on here. Those of you who don’t like sports shouldn’t worry. I think my love for footie and cricket in particular are how I switch my writing brain off, so those posts will be infrequent.

2. For no reason I can decipher, every piece of fiction I write of late is trying to expand beyond my initial intentions. This might be a signal from my hind-brain that it’s time to try writing something in novel length*. So much so, that my attempt to write a piece of fanfic (Don’t judge me! It was fanfic for one of the most awesome things EVAR!) of 500-2000 words in length failed dismally because the story I wanted to tell refused to tell itself in less than roughly 5000 words. My, quite frankly EPIC, entry is consigned to the dusty and neglected folder on my hard drive entitled “misc unusable projects”. It’s the same folder where I keep my Christopher Fowler/Joe Abercrombie explicit slash fic.

3. Mr Jake Kale continues to be more prolific and more talented than myself. He will pay dearly for this insolence. Oh yes, he will pay**. He has been warned…

4. The England performance at the World Cup has left me furious. More on this in a future post.

5. Dreamworlds continues to be an amazing forum populated with lovely and talented people, which I don’t spend anywhere near enough time posting on. Please to go there and sign up, if you enjoy fantasy fiction or role-playing even a little bit.

* More on this soon. I’m still planning.

** More on this also at a future date. I’m still planning this too, although this one will be far more nefarious. MWU-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!