Thursday, 1 February 2018


Well the big day has finally arrived. The only problem is I wasn't there to see it.

Yesterday two boxes turned up at home containing copies of 'The Aldwark Tales' fresh off the presses.

Here we go.

Unfortunately I am stuck up in Aberdeen at work for a few more days yet so I will have to wait to get my hands on these lovely things. But the time is fast approaching when everyone will be able to get a copy as the book is officially published in both hard copy and e-book format on March 1st.

I am so excited I think I need to celebrate with a tot of cider brandy. I don't need anyone to pass the bottle this time as I have one right here.


Monday, 15 January 2018

The rumours of my literary demise appear to have been exaggerated.

Well, it has been a staggering seven years since I last wrote anything on these pages.

Just a few short months ago, when I revisited the blog and thought I ought to update it, I was preparing to explain why it was my stories had evaporated into the electronic ether - a tale of woe, betrayal and not a small amount of derring-do with some staggeringly beautiful maidens thrown in for good measure. It would have made a fine tale; funny and shocking in equal parts and would, of course, have been complete fiction. I am, after all, apparently, a writer.

The truth was far more prosaic. So much so that I am not even going to bother explaining it.

The reason I can do this is because, all of a sudden, I am to be published. A lovely lady by the name of Lisa Greener from Green Cat Books had a chat with me at a local book fair and decided to take a chance and read my short story collection. She also did a wondrous thing called editing, something I consider to be one of the darkest of dark arts and a skill reserved only for those who have sold their souls - and those of the whole village - to the devil himself.

In short, I have a publishing deal and my collection of supernatural short stories - The Aldwark Tales - will now be appearing on sale from March 1st.

I will be back with more details of this amazing turn of events over the next few weeks but for now, in the tradition of this blog, I think I need a tot or four of Somerset Cider Brandy.

Someone pass me the bottle.  

Friday, 17 September 2010

Black Dog howls at the moon

Prolific is probably not a word that springs to mind when looking at my current output. So far my published work consists of a total of six rather long short stories collected as the Aldwark Tales. There is, of course, a lot more in the pipeline with a further four supernatural tales and a couple of science fiction stories under way.

But in the meantime Neil Jackson over at GWP is concentrating on trying to get my work and that of the other writers out in as many different formats as possible.

So next up is the second chapbook release of a story taken from the Aldwark Tales - Black Dog.

With a suitably scary cover designed by Neil himself, this is a story of supernatural events driven by a very natural human condition and it draws its inspiration both from the classic Black Shuck/Black Dog tales of English folklore and also from the evocative description of his own depression by that greatest of all Englishmen, Winston Churchill.

The story is available in ebook form from Smashwords and will shortly be available for Kindle from Amazon and direct from Ghost Writer Publications as a chapbook.

Hope you enjoy it.

And now once again I need to write and I feel the need for inspiration.

Pass me the bottle someone?

Monday, 6 September 2010

Is there anybody out there?

So the boss said to me,

"Tricks old son, you may have a job to hold down, a family to support, half a dozen stories still to finish and a house that's falling down around your ears, but what you really need to do is get yourself a blog. That way you can stop wasting time worrying about all those things and instead tell everyone else about them. Then they can worry about them instead and you can get on with the important things in life.

Like Calvados."

That was of course a low blow. The boss knows all my deepest darkest secrets and he especially knows my uncontrollable weakness for the old apple brandy.

So the job can wait, the family can starve, the stories drift away into the aether and the house can continue its centuries long collapse back into the earth from whence it sprung.

I have a new obsession now... and an old one.

Pass me the bottle someone.