I recently participated in a Threads thing where you were challenged to name twenty books that you'd read that had greatly influenced you - without commenting why or how. At first I didn't think much of it, but as I progressed I realised it was really interesting - possibly more so personally - to think of these authors and works. These authors and works, Have they influenced me as an author? So I figured, as a blog, I'd consider them in more detail, looking at how and why t

I recently participated in a Threads thing where you were challenged to name twenty books that you'd read that had greatly influenced you - without commenting why or how. At first I didn't think much of it, but as I progressed I realised it was really interesting - possibly more so personally - to think of these authors and works. These authors and works, Have they influenced me as an author? So I figured, as a blog, I'd consider them in more detail, looking at how and why t

A New Me? Kind of, but not really... I know. Strange title. And it's been a while. October 2022 since I last wrote a blog post. Strangely that coincides with my last venture out for a walk on my own (before this month) and me becoming really reclusive - 10 months, that's bad, isn't it. I've also realised that it's the same time Elon Musk took over Twitter, and it became a much more toxic environment. Is that a part of it? Perhaps. It must surely have a bearing. So I guess, th

Light. Pretty. Soft flutter of wings in flight. Strange flight. Funny misshaped meander. Colourful, up, down, round and ‘bout, this way, that, ne’er seeming to go in one direction yet leading me on. Ever on, down through shadows of trees. Lost and yet found, a butterfly, by me. Follow glint of silvered fire, purple hues, kiss of gilded light ‘bout painted eye; downhill by tree and through fern, thick green light, the nettled kiss as hurts my hand. Tingled sting. Care not. Lau

Where has the year gone? April in 3 days. Already! And for those unaware, it means #INDIEAPRIL is upon us. Consider this your wake-up call. It all started in 2019 on Twitter, and although I was there at the beginning - well from the 2nd April in that year before COVID and lockdowns were even a thing - I don't recall much about how or who started it (*). What I can tell you though, is it's an opportunity for Indie Authors, via the #WRITINGCOMMUNITY on Twitter, to not only show

DreamSwarm celebrates the art and artists of a strange place. The brainchild and baby of Andy Mark Simpson, it is a place that enjoys the art and feeling of the supernatural, the otherworldly, yet encompasses those works that do not necessarily fit within the popular, more mainstream genre conventions of traditional Horror and Science-Fiction. This is the liminal world of Fae and folklore, myth, magical realism, and urban darkness - where time travel simply is the hum of an e

I tried reading the Silmarillion when I was about fourteen, after having finished (and falling in love with) The Lord of the Rings. I suppose it must have been 1983/1984. A time of the Tories under the evil that was Maggie Thatcher. There was the Miners Strike, National Front, Anarchy, Greenham Common, CND, great music and genre inspired fashion - Punks, New Romantics, Skinheads, Mods and Rockers haunting record shops and roaming streets - me hanging out at bus stops with fri

Time I reinvigorated the blog. It's been awhile. Being a recluse - and indeed having become even more reclusive over the last couple of years - I guess I was struggling with content. Indeed, my mind has made it difficult to read too, and so book reviews dried up. Now, with the onset of 2022 and all we've all been through with Covid, lockdowns, and the like, I think it's time to start anew. Push this old soul back out into the world and hopefully put some smiles on faces. I fi

There is a place in the forest. Beautiful. Once found, forever lost. I found it. Once. A Place in the Forest - Image by Paul Jameson A place the wisest never leave. Forever they live there, beyond touch of time. Eternally asleep, fore’er awake, they ponder woes of Man and know there the answers ‘fore ever a question is asked. ‘Tis magick of the Gods, of Immortals, gifted them as were once like you and me; man, woman, boy and girl, as Gods now to t’ Tribes of Man. Sought out.

Is a strange piece, even by my standards. A novella in length, I wrote it as a kind of precursor to NIGHTJAR, to put into context hinted at apocalyptic events that led to the strange feudal future that that novel is set in. I set the piece out as a kind of prayer book or hymnal, divided up by Chapter and Verse. Each chapter is inspired by one or more medieval images, and the dark events we seem to be witnessing in our own time - which include war, famine, sickness and a chang