The Passing Place

Oh… you’re just self-published?

Posted on April 15, 2026 by Mark Hayes

Opinions, as the saying goes, are like arseholes, everybody’s got one, and some peoples are closer to theirs than others. As a rule, therefore, I only put credence in the opinions of those don’t voice theirs via the wrong orifice. However, no matter how hard you try to ignore bullshit opinions you consider invalid, ill-informed or just plain insulting, such opinions have a way of getting through even the thickest skin.

Why, you may ask, am I telling you this? It is after all something you have probably worked out for yourself, something we all work out for ourselves, and indeed all probably have our own opinions about, which is to say you probably don’t need mine.

Well, this is about one one opinion in particular, an opinion that gets under my skin and crawls about like a cockroach thankfully never could, (except in movies about Mummies, specifically the bandaged kind that feature Rachel Weisz*.). It is an opinion I utterly reject yet still nags at me, because it eats away beneath my skin in exactly the way that thankfully cockroaches don’t.

*Yes I know in the movie they were scarab beetles not cockroaches, but as the whole analogy is just a blatant excuse to have a picture of Rachel Weisz in the post, I am not sure what point you are trying to make…

The cockroaches under the skin opinion is one that often comes out in otherwise quite bland conversations. Such as

You’re a published author, that’s wonderful, oh… you’re just self published? Well, I guess that’s great too…

And just like that the opinion been ventured devalues all the hard work, all your beautifully crafted words, woven plots and carefully drawn characters. Such an opinion when ventured also devalues hours, days, week, months and frankly years of work. All the time spent trying to create something both uniquely different and entirely wonderful. Even if it is only uniquely different and entirely wonderful in your own opinion.

And look, I get it, I understand the confusion, I understand why people may think self published work is of less value. I do. I really do. But that doesn’t mean that it is not a bullshit opinion, it doesn’t mean it isn’t downright insulting. It also doesn’t mean a writer who self-publishes need pay such opinions the slightest heed. We know its a bullshit opinion after all. And yet… in our dark moments, in those moments of self-doubt that sap at the soul and eat away at the very core of our existence. On those dark nights when you’re all alone writing. When you’ve sat in front of the keyboard and screen, fighting the urge to just say ‘sod this for a lark’ and go to bed, or perhaps find another vocation that doesn’t isolate you from the world and give you nothing in return when the words don’t flow… On those dark nights, in those small hours between the time you should have gone to bed and the time you have got up to go to the day job that pays for the bills, on those dark nights, the implication of the words…

Oh… you’re just self-published?

Will eat at you and you may even start to believe it’s true…

But that is just personal angst and imposter syndrome. The long dark night of the soul gripping at you with fingers of burning ice… That is not the problem, the problem is there are people in the world, lots of people in the world, who will not read a self-published book because they actually believe the sentiment behind those words and that a self publish work can not possibly be well written, let alone add something to the greater zeitgeist of human achievement.

A self published author is in the opinion of many readers is a less than. Unworthy of their time. A poor imitation of good writing, written by a wannabe. No, they would sooner read the latest James Patterson thriller, churned out now through co-authors because he can’t even be bothered to write them himself. The same readers would sooner read the new Dan Brown that so big in the airports book rotisseries this spring… They would sooner read another Stephen King novel that… actually scratch that, everyone should read the next Stephen King.. and so many other great writers who are main stays of traditional publishing, even, if it floats your boat, Dan Brown, though I would question your judgment if that was the case.

Just not Patterson, okay, never Patterson… Oh yes, shitty opinions, everybody has them, even me…

Now, I can tell you confidently that being Self-published doesn’t make you any less of a writer. I can tell you with hand on heart that a work being self published doesn’t devalue its worth or the quality of the writing. I can tell you that and mean every word, as well as give you a list of a great many self published authors. But it does not matter what I say there will always be those who think otherwise, and such opinion when they are voiced will eventually get to anyone.

Even thick skinned Yorkshiremen.

So here is the thing. I self publish through choice. I self publish because the books I write do not sit into the nice tidy little genres publishing houses are looking for, and frankly big publishing houses (not small independent ones of which there are a great many good ones) care only about sales. I don’t ‘query’ because I don’t want to ‘query’ and don’t need that kind of self flagellation in my life as I search for the benediction of a commissioning editor.

I am also not purely self published. I have had short fiction published in over 20 anthologies. I was commissioned by a publisher to write a non-fiction book on H.P. Lovecraft that comes out later this year. (now that was an interesting book to write, mostly because of the process of writing something for a publishing house is very different in some respects)

My novels however, some more successfully than others, are all self published, but that has been and has always been my choice. I don’t wish to ‘query’ my Victorian Urban Fiction novel full of magic and mystery but actually has a central theme examining trans identity. Is there a publishing house that would publish that novel? What about a novel set in a pan-dimensional bar that is actually a complex examination of suicide and choice? I don’t write cookie cutter novels that happily sit in genres, even my steampunk novels are a tad more complicated than they look on face value.

What’s my point? You may well ask. Well for the most part it is this, no writer is ‘just self-published’ it is easy to self-publish these days, but just because you self publish does not devalue your work. Indeed, often self published novels are far more interesting than cookie cutter main stream publishing. I am not alone in writing strange off wonderful books.

So if you are a self published author, I wish to say this to you….

Oh… your self published, that’s wonderful, tell me about your book…

And if you’re a reader, I would posit that perhaps you may consider doing the same…

Of course that’s just my opinion

Posted in amwriting, indie writers, indiewriter, publication, self-publishing, Uncategorized, writing | Tagged author, books, fiction, publishing, writer, writerslife, writing, writingtips | Leave a comment

Dear Edgar 58 ~ The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar

Posted on April 13, 2026 by Mark Hayes

You might remember us discussing mesmerism when we spoke about ‘A Tale of the Ragged Mountains’ and in particular the story ‘Mesmeric Revelation’. In the case of the ‘Ragged Mountains’ mesmerism was really merely used as a narrative device to get to the story itself. Mesmeric Revelation by contrast was a story in which what little narrative existed was there purely as a device to discus mesmerism. This third tale of mesmerism owes much to Mesmeric Revelation as it is very much the story that the early work used as a framing narrative.

The short of it is that ‘The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar’ is the story told by a mesmerist who puts a dying man in a hypnotic trance right at the point of death, to see what happens…

Unlike Mesmeric Revelation which was framed as fiction but was really speculative non-fiction, ‘The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar’ was fiction framed as a factual non-fiction account of an experiment in mesmerisation.

One reason why ‘The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar’ at the time was often mistaken for a ‘true’ account is quite possible because it is dry to the point of arid. The Kalahari has more moisture in it. I do not mean this is written with a dry wit, as if oft times the case with our Dear Edgar, instead it is the absence of any real wit that makes it so dry. Dry like a mummies husk or a Utah lake bed.

In these, the enlightened days of modernity, hypnotism is a casino act and the other aspects of mesmerism is consigned to long debunked and forgotten corners of pseudoscience. In Edgar’s time however, there was some basis of belief that gave credence to this story. By presenting it in such an arid perfunctory way it seemed like a genuine scientific account. People wanted to believe, and the story offered ‘proof…’

Valdemar is mesmerised at the point of death, dies, and then continues to converse with the mesmerist. But for a man now passed beyond the river he has little to say worth hearing. This, it has to be said adds to the whole Hoax science paper feel of the story. he he given out fantastical revelations the narrative would have been more obviously fictional While the dead man is in his mesmerised state he is both dead and communicating for days then weeks, until he is finally realised at which point the body more or less dissolves into a putrid mess.

That is all the story really has to offer. Unlike ‘Mesmeric Revelation’ there is nothing speculative or intriguing said by the dead Valdemar. There are no great revelations , or even minor ones. In the end it seems like a story trying so hard to seem real that it fails at the most basic of requirements for a story, it neither entertains, informs a perspective or makes you speculate.

The problem is perhaps that this is a story is over one hundred and eighty years old. This is not to claim that modern audiences have become too sophisticated to be taken in by such a story. Instead I would posit we just expect more. In an age where endless reams of pseudoscience is accessible through a device you carry in your pocket. Ghost hunters have TV shows, and Paul McKenna doing 50 date tours making people believe they are chickens on stage. Mesmerism is a long forgotten fringe idea that isn’t anywhere people go looking for answers.

Which leave us with this, a story written as hoax science to enrapture a credulous audience that have long since moved on to other things. Which may be something of a shame as it clearly was entirely successful at the time as it took Poe admitting it was purely fiction months later in letters to put to bed the idea that it was in some way a true accounting.

TWO RAVENS, MOST OUT OF CURIOSITY AS TO WHY ANYONE WAS TAKEN IN BY THIS BACK THEN

Should your read it: Well, after all I have said, I do not dislike the story as such, it is dull and unengaging but it is interesting what could be considered a successful hoax nearly two centuries ago. But that is really the only interesting about it.

Bluffers fact: Rudyard Kipling refenced this story in his own tale, ‘In the House of Suddhoo’ some forty years later, while Kipling knew it was a story, he refenced it in a way that treats it more as science. Using the hoax to give credence to his own tale.

Posted in amreading, book reviews, Dear Edgar, Poe, reads, retro book reviews | Tagged amreading, book reviews, book-review, books, Dear Edgar, Poe, reading, reads, writing | Leave a comment

Maybe, just maybe…

Posted on April 7, 2026 by Mark Hayes

This is a post about writing and books. Specifically my books. I apologise for this…

Back in 2019 I started writing a trilogy of novels with a plan for all three books and a time scale within which I intended to have them written. This is not entirely true as I had actually written the first 20000 words of the first of these novels a year or two before, then it had sat around waiting for me to rediscover it and try to work out what the novel actually was about.

In case your wondering, it is perfectly possible to write 20000 words and have no idea about the story you are telling. This is what first drafts are for, this is where ideas develop and characters come to life. Not everyone writes this way, I do however to an extent and it works for me.

In any regards in October 2019 I came back to a file called ‘Maybe’ read through it and started jotting down ideas. This was after the second Hannibal novel had bene released and I needed a break from him before I wrote the third. So I started toying with Maybe again after leaving Hannibal was plummeting to his death… He was to fall for three years…

The Hannibal novels average around 85000 words which is a tad long for genre fiction but not excessively so. With Maybe I tried to write shorter novels, so around 60000 words per book was the plan (the first ended up at 65k) they were to be brisk, fast and fun. and I planed to spend 6 months writing each of the three and bring them out in march 2020, September 2020 and finally march 2021. 60K words every 6 months was easily doable in late 2019.

Once the Maybe books were done I would return to Hannibal with the third novel , A Squid on the Shoulder, for which I had a brief outline of with all the major plot points and characters noted down. If you have read Squid and the first Maybe you may have an incline why I wanted to finish the maybe books first…

In any regard, the best laid plans saw Maybe, the first of the three planned novels come out on the ids of march 2020 with everything on track , and then Covid hit.

Despite this Maybe’s launch was successful enough and it has been one of my most popular books ever since, however, tt turns out a global pandemic causing you to be stuck at home, is not conducive to writing at all. Almost no one wrote ‘the great lockdown novel’ and I was no different. By the time I was in a mental place to write once more the impetus for the Maybe novels had faltered, I had a few thousand word I had written before covid but they lacked the urgency of the original. It seems slow and forced and I was not sure how to get it going once more.

Since the pandemic I have written a host of short stories, and two novels, those being the third Hannibal novel and Lucifer Mandrake. I have a couple of other novels in the works as well waiting on the right moment to finish them, and the two remaining Maybe books to write.

Now I am aware that I have been promising the next Maybe novel for some time, at least once a year every year for six years now. But recently I went back to what I had for the second book and went to it with a new idea and new angle and a new way to tell the story I want to tell. It is my genuine hope to get the next book written by October to come out before winter. It is slow going, but it is coming together and I am close to half way through the novel, least ways if it hits the 60K mark as intended. I have been avoiding this book for 6 years but finally now I have another book to avoid writing I have the time to write this one.

So Eliza, Benjamin, Inspector Grace, Perkins and perhaps even Gothe are on there way back…

A storm is brewing in the mid Atlantic and the airship Maybe’s Daughter is caught up in the middle of it. Benjamin West is hanging from a cargo net after someone tried to kill him. Eliza Tu-Pa-KA is trying to save the airship, unaware of West’s plight. Meanwhile in a realm beyond the mortal world, the soul of a dead man faces a stark choice.

Hopefully Perkins will put the kettle on before it all goes too far…

Posted in amwriting, books, fantasy, Hannibal Smyth, indie novels, indie writers, novels, sci-fi, steampunk | Tagged books, creative-writing, fiction, reads, steampunk, writerslife, writing, writing-tips | Leave a comment

Not Committing Ritualised Murder

Posted on April 6, 2026 by Mark Hayes

Today I have quite a bit of book news, because if you wait long enough everything comes at once.

The first bit of news is of a Free anthology. Yes FREE, on kindle and Smashwords and other places. Now normally the moment I talk about a free book I develop a nervous tick because no book is free, it all costs the writers, editors and publishers those most vital of resources, time and energy. Giving books away for free feels like a betrayal of the artist and a betrayal of the art… It is part of the malaise of the industry, because no one truly values that which is free*. However in this case the free anthology was created specifically to be free. It was also, ahem, my idea…

*except love… which should always be free

Sometime back in October last, round table of scared wood, with drinks in hand, there met three souls of dark wisdoms and strange visions. Which is to say Me, Gillie and John were in the pub discussing the Harvey Duckman Presents anthologies and how we might get them before a greater audience. We fired around a few idea, and after my suggestion of sacrificing virgins to the great god Arknuckle was ruled out because there is no great god Arknuckle, virgins are at something of a premium in Teesside and it was morally abhorrent to commit ritualised murder just to sell a few books, apparently, the idea of doing a free to reader anthology was suggested.

Now obviously, rather than give away a book I doubled down on the ritualised murder, but even when I pointed out that publishing in general is not an industry overwhelmed with morals I was again overruled and so we discussed the options of doing a limited free giveaway for one of the current Harvey anthologies. Which I pointed out was just not viable, books cost money to produce, we had invested in these titles and while we did not expect to make money, breaking even would be nice. Also I knew where I could source a nice barely used granite alter top…

Then I suggested, well we do have all the stories from the original Harvey anthologies, and we could ask the writers and see whom would be up for contributing a free story, and I am sure you could use one of mine if your really not up for ritualised murder, but I do have a nice set of yellow robes and everything…

At this point Gillie said she wanted to use ‘The Tower’ which is an old story of mine that I am somewhat fond of, which has a twisting knife of an ending that is almost a ritual sacrifice to the gods of narrative in of itself, so I said “sure,” and added “I am sure we will get ten or so of the writers to agree to let us use old stories from the defunct original Harvey series and a couple of the newer members of the collective might have the odd story knocking about, some might even write a story for the book if we ask. I am sure we can get enough to make a free book if we ask…”

So, we messaged the collective with the bare bones of an idea and I half expected us to struggle to get to 15 stories which is the average number of stories in one of our anthologies. As it proved, I was wrong…

We ended up with 28 Harvey authors and 29 stories, some new, some reprints, some flash fiction joys spread among the longer tales which ended up been all Gillies favourite writers and some wonderful stories, and because Gillie got carried aware with her enthusiasm (delightfully) for the project it is now the biggest Harvey Anthology we have ever done by some margin and all available from FREE on multiple platforms.

Welcome to this weird and wonderful gathering of our favourite Harvey stories from across the years. Some are old, some are new… all have been donated to showcase and celebrate our fab collective of slightly if not outright rebellious, and possibly unhinged, writers.

Bringing you the best of our main baskets, enjoy a taste of Dark Fantasy, Alternate Reality, Science Fiction and Urban Fantasy and get a glimpse into the many worlds beyond these pages.

Featuring stories from:

DARK FANTASY
Mark Hayes – The Tower
Steven C. Davis – Rievaulx Secrets
J.A. Wood – Fireflies
John Holmes-Carrington – The Dop-A-Glop
Jack Pentire – The Devil’s Bargain
Anna Atkinson-Dunn – The Knight and the Devastation of Lisièborg
Christine King – The Child, The Witch And The Werewolf

ALTERNATE REALITY
Liz Tuckwell – Tully and the Ghost
Phil Sculthorpe – A Change of Plan
Mary F. Carr – A Boiler Scout Jamboree
Jon Hartless – Poppy Orpington does the Business
Nils Nisse Visser – Learning The Ropes
Keith Errington – Pirates & Paperwork
Reino Tarihmen – Games Without Frontiers

SCIENCE FICTION
Will Nett – Come To Kepler
Nimue Brown – Swallowed By Time
C. K. Roebuck – Splinter Of Hope
Kate Baucherel – Xanthe
Reino Tarihmen – What Might History Say About Us
Joe Whitbourn – Rosetta
C.G. Hatton – Taylorson
Andy Hill – Distance

URBAN FANTASY
Angela Smith – The Butterfly Tea Set
Ben Sawyer – Shamble
Davia Sacks – The Flatmate
Louise Ewing – It Being A Tuesday
R. Bruce Connelly – The Seventh Attempt
Tamara Clelford – The Adventures Of Little Bear
Mark Hayes – Nothing Has Happened

You may of noticed the reason it is 29 stories from 28 writers is Gillie wanted two of mine in the end. the second of which features a frustrated occultist…. I don’t remember where the inspiration for that one came from…

But Harvey news does not end there. As well as FREE Harvey we also have another fabulous Sci-Fi anthology coming out in a few days and available on pre-order, which may feature a planet with a dead god entombed with in it, or possibly not….

Featuring stories from Adam Stone, Alexis Ames, Andrew Leonard, Louise Kerr, E.B. Sommer, Floyd Largent, James Waite, Keith Errington, Reino Tarihmen, Mark Hayes, Nimue Brown, Rob Butler, Ben Sawyer, Steven Mathes and J.M. Faulkner.

That isn’t the end of Harvey news either, there are also the monthly flash fiction books, the frankly a bit ridiculous Round Robin book and the 2025/2026 flash collection book. you can find out all this and much more at Harvey Duckman Is Alive!

Oh and I am finally writing the second book in the Maybe Trilogy, but all that aside, does anyone have a good source for ritual daggers and advice on the best way to get blood out of yellow linin ?

Posted in amwriting, books, fantasy, fiction, Harvey Duckman, horror, indie novels, indie writers, rites, sci-fi, writing | Tagged books, fantasy, fiction, reads, sciencefiction, short stories, steampunk, urban fantasy, writing | Leave a comment

Dear Edgar 57 ~ The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether

Posted on March 25, 2026 by Mark Hayes

See a clinic full of cynics
Who want to twist the peoples’ wrist
They’re watching every move we make
We’re all included on the list

The Fun Boy Three

Once upon a dark time of tribulation and despair, whence an ancient nation state lay beneath the uncaring heel of a feared tyrants regime*. Grim dark clouds that circled those that once sang of ghost towns and a race of rats left the safety of there fellows and that which was special ceased to be, and thence they became fun boys a three… And sang they did the words above, fore they declared a truth that said…

*you might know that time as ‘the eighties’

But the sound track of my youth aside out journey with Dear Edgar brings us today to ‘The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether’ A tale in which the narrator, out of little more than curiosity, sets out to visit to an asylum, what follows is a tale as baroque as the asylum buildings described within. The Maison de Santé in question is in southern France and the narrator, who you will doubtless be unsurprised to learn is unnamed, has read that they employ a revolutionary new method of dealing with the asylums inmates known as the ‘system of soothing’. He remarks on this to a traveling companion who purely by chance, the kind of chance used to guide a narrative with all the subtlety of a steam train, happens to know the superintendent of the Maison de Santé in question and is of course happy to make an introduction.

And so our anomalous narrator is introduced to Monsieur Maillard, the hospitals superintendent, and taken on a tour of the grounds before been invited to dine with the staff. While on the tour he is told that the ‘system of soothing’ he had read so much about is no longer practiced at the asylum, and instead they now favor the ‘system of Doctor Tarr and professor Fether’.

Now I would ask you allow me a little side bar, the 8th amendment to the American constitution as you may be aware, prohibits the use of cruel and unusual punishments. I mention this because the 8th amendment was ratified in 1791 as part of the US Bill of Rights, something Americans are rightfully proud of. Coincidently 102 years after the English Bill of Rights used the same language in 1689, so it just reaffirmed rights that the former British citizens had had prior to the revelation of 1776 but took 15 years to regain… Regardless of which under both jurisdictions the practice of covering the convicted with hot wood tar then throwing fathers at them, was not considered to be cruel and unusual… This begs the question of what on earth is…

After the tour the dinner with the staff is… interesting shall we say. The staff take turns to pretend to be inmates. Doing the kinds of things their charges are want to do. These demonstrations become increasingly odd, involving music, no a little shouting and the occasionally clucking. The good doctor Maillard try’s his best to calm the staff down several times but they just get increasingly disorderly as the dinner goes on. All the while the superintendent precedes to explain all the changes he has instigated in the new methods he has adopted.

The reason the new method of Doc Tarr and Prof Fether was adopted was, the superintendent goes on to explain, that at one hospital that retained the older ‘system of soothing’ method, the lunatics had conspired to overpower the staff and locked them away, while the leader of the rebellious inmates took charge and instigated a new policy. Allowed no visitors, save one chap who seemed a little slow on the uptake…

Very slow on the uptake as Maillard is telling the narrator exactly what has happened in the asylum he now sits. the narrator is the chap who seemed a little slow on the uptake…

At this point there is a ruckus in the grounds and a bunch of figures charged into the dinning room, half naked, and covered with tar and feathers… It is about this point the hapless narrator realises the terrible truth. That being that in the words of The Fun Boy Three…

‘The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum’

FOUR RAVENS, UNWILLING TO CONTRIBUTE FEATHERTS BUT HAPPY TO WATCH

Should your read it: The story is entertaining, it surprisingly avoids being offensive, as it is as preposterous as the narrator who is clearly not the brightest bulb. In the end, even after all he has witnessed, which includes the whole staff having been tared and feathered by the inmates, he still has not grasped that Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether and not real people but figments Mallards madness, and is therefore surprised he can not find works by them anywhere.

The only important question really is, is this funny, which it is. I was worried it might make light of mental health, but it doesn’t, the humor is more at the narrators oblivious stupidity.

Bluffers fact: The earliest documented mention of tar and feathering is in orders written at the behest of Richard the 1st denoting the practice to be the punishment for theft amid his navy that dates from 1189 and crusades.

The Fun Boy Three emerged from The Specials in 1981, did a few singles including two singles with hard drinking girl group Bananarama, who inspired Jenifer Saunders to write Absolutely fabulous. Somehow the fun boys livers survived and all three later rejoined The Specials.

Posted in Dear Edgar, Poe, pointless things of wonderfulness, reads, retro book reviews | Tagged books, Dear Edgar, humour, Poe, reads | Leave a comment

Time waits for…

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Mark Hayes

Not done a quote post for a couple of years, may not do another for a while. But time was on my mind today and as Chaucer said…

And yes you probably didn’t know that was Chaucer, as his quotes, much like those of that old hack from Stratford on Avon have submerged so deeply into the lexicon of the English language as to become part of its very nature. It is surprising just how much Chaucer reflects modernity which it to say how little humanity has changed in the 600 years since Geoffrey made a name for himself with bawdy stories dressed up in respectable clothes…

The guilty think all talk is of themselves. ~ Chaucer

There’s no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily. ~ Chaucer

Women desire six things: They want their husbands to be brave, wise, rich, generous, obedient to wife, and lively in bed. ~ Chaucer

By nature, men love newfangledness.~ Chaucer

Forbid us something, and that thing we desire ~ Chaucer

Love is blind. ~ Chaucer

There’s never a new fashion but it’s old. ~ Chaucer

The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people. ~ Chaucer

Posted in big questions, quotes, reads | Tagged quotes, reads | 2 Comments

Dear Edgar 56 ~ The Imp of the Perverse

Posted on March 13, 2026 by Mark Hayes

By July 1845 our Dear Edgar was achieving the level of success he had craved so long, Six months earlier his titular poem ‘The Raven’ had seen its debut in New York’s Evening Mirror, and had made him an over night success. The kind of over night success that had bene publishing his poem’s and story’s for twenty years before he really broke through into the national consciousness. He became the full time editor of the Broadway Journal, a newspaper he would come to own later that year, and which gave him an outlet to publish revised versions of his earlier stories. From a professional point of view things were certainly on the up.

At home, however, the story was different Virginia’s illness was growing more server as the months went buy and Edgar had returned to the bottle, ostensibly to cope with the stress. His bouts of heavy drinking in turn cause a degree of self destruction with his professional life, as his reputation as a literary critic became strained. As the editor of the Journal he had no one above him to reign in his more venomous comments on other writers and this poisoned his reputation among his contemporaries. Perhaps the most well known of these incidents is ‘the Longfellow war’.

Four years before Poe had written to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow expressing his admiration for the poet and writer, and citing him as an inspiration for his own work. Publicly he had called Longfellow ‘unquestionably the best poet in America.’ Yet in the Journal, either to try to cement his reputation as a critic, or in an attempt to boost the Newspapers circulation with controversy, he public accused Longfellow of Plagiarism. At the time Longfellow was by far the most popular American poet. Poes critique of him in the Journal was at best a misjudged publicity stunt, soured Edgars reputation and the reputation of the Journal, rather than boost it.

If this professional self-harm was not enough, Edgar also began a somewhat public flirtation between its pages with Frances Sargent Osgood. Osgood, herself still married though separated from her husband Samuel, was often invited to the Poe’s home. Reputedly Virginia was fond of Frances, for whom Edgar would lay off the drink and saw something of herself in the other woman.

It was against this back drop of self destruction that Poe wrote The Imp of the Perverse, a story about self destructive impulses. Occasionally one wonders just where Poe got his inspiration, this is not one of those times.

Borrowing from the structure of ‘The Premature Burial‘ a year before the story starts more like an essay in which the narrator examines the self-destructive nature of man. The imp of the title not being a literal imp but more the nagging thoughts that drive someone to do thing that are against their own best interests. And here there is a bit of an issue, the structure that worked so well in The Premature Burial doesn’t work quite so well here. In the earlier tale the narrator sites several examples of people being buried alive which work to build towards the actual story in the latter half of the tale. In this story the essay on mans self destructive impulses is much drier and feels like you have to wade through mud flats of heavy verbiage before you get to the story itself.

The story itself, by which I mean the last thousand words or so, is quite brisk and entertaining. The narrator admits he murdered a relative for money, and did so by use of a poisoned candle. A scheme so carefully considered that the candle itself would burn away all evidence of the toxin which would evaporate from the air long before the body was discovered. The murderer goes on to inherit the wealth and live for years on the back of the homicide he committed convinced that he will never be caught due to the brilliance of his plot.

As time goes by the narrator comes to realize that the only way he could ever be caught would be if he was fool enough to tell the world what he had done. He has taken to reminding himself of this with the words “I am safe!” whispered to himself. But having realized only he could be his undoing he starts to get an irrepressible urge to confess his crime. The Imp of the perverse, as he has described the self destructive urge in the frankly tedious essay that forms the bulk of this story, is working upon him, pushing him to betray himself. Which eventually he does, unable to contain himself.

Thus the tale ends, with him facing the noose due to his own self-destructive nature leading to his confession.

Now, the latter half of the story is fascinating, and a theme that is hardly new to Poe, it mirrors The Tell-tale Heart, and The Black Cat among other stories. Self-destructive urges can be found throughout Poe’s work. In that regard the essay portion holds some interest but not as a story, more as an insight into Poe’s own mind. Which is the problem, this is a story with two halves and while one informed the other both are better read with a degree of separation, unlike the premature burial where the essay portion builds right into the story itself, this one doesn’t. The first half is not so much ‘like an essay’ as it is ‘an essay’ and should be treated as such. The latter half is the story and a good story at that, it just does not need the long dull preamble.

THREE RAVENS AS TWO OTHERS FLEW OFF AFTER THE PREAMBLE BORED THEM

Should you read it: the latter half certainly, the first half you can skip unless you find you need an essay on self-destruction

Bluffers fact: The two pictures above are of Virginia and Frances, the two women shared a remarkable resemblance, so much so that they are occasionally mistaken for each other even now. With Frances portrait occasionally mistakenly used for Virginia Clem and vice versa on the internet. They shared other taints as well, a certain child like qualities, raven dark hair, fair skin and tuberculosis…

The latter killed both women…

Posted in amreading, Dear Edgar, Poe | Tagged anxiety, art, Dear Edgar, depression, mental-health, Poe, poetry, reads | Leave a comment

Dear Edgar 55 ~ The Power of Words

Posted on March 12, 2026 by Mark Hayes

Oinos. — I clearly perceive that the infinity of matter is no dream.

Agathos. — There are no dreams in Aidenn but it is here whispered that, of this infinity of matter, the sole purpose is to afford infinite springs, at which the soul may allay the thirst to know which is for ever unquenchable within it since to quench it, would be to extinguish the soul’s self.

It is at this point a reader may feel a driving urge to slap Agathos, or our dear Edgar, preferably repeatedly with a large wet haddock. Though maybe that is just my irrational response to this the third, and thankfully final, of Poe’s dialogues between spirits in heaven that pontificate on the meaning of existence, the divine, and eternity…

not a quote form this story, but there is little worth quoting within it

As I have noted previously when discussing the previous dialogues The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion, and The Colloquy of Monos and Una, I am actually a student of philosophy, or at least I was formally, but I am not sure if one can ever cease to be a student of that particular discipline once you embark upon it. Philosophy is not a subject that has answers, but rather forms frameworks in order to ask questions. This is very much what Poe does in this story, the two spirits ask questions and each tries to answer the other, which is the definition of a dialogue in many respects. However…

Here is the rub…

Despite my grounding in philosophy, nothing discussed in this dialogue intrigues, fascinates or in any way interests me. This is not to say it won’t be of interest to someone, and I was aware before reading it that of the three dialogues it is widely considered the best. So while I was far from enamored of the first two, I had some small hope this would be more captivating… It isn’t.

What it is for the most part is impenetrable. unlike Mono and Una which leaned into actual philosophical questions that held a degree of interest all be it some what peripheral interest this final dialogue failed to reach that somewhat low bar. I read it through three times as I do as a minimum for all these stories for this project. I had to force myself to do so in this case, and yet even as the final read through came to an end I could not tell you one part that inspired interest or made me question and idea expressed within…

In that regard it fails as an exploration of philosophical ideas, for me at least. As if I am not driven to contemplate what is discussed then it is not philosophy. Which given the intent of the piece is the most damning critique I can offer.

A LONE RAVEN

SHOULD YOU READ IT: Only if you have read and enjoyed the other two dialogues… So I suspect not.

Bluffers fact: Sloths can hold their breath longer than dolphins. I am aware this is not relevant to the piece in question but it is at least an interesting fact, where as there is nothing interesting about ‘The Power of Words’

Posted in Dear Edgar, Poe, reads | Tagged books, Dear Edgar, metaphysics, philosophy, Poe, reads, religion, theology | Leave a comment

All we are saying, yet again…

Posted on March 9, 2026 by Mark Hayes

I wrote the original version of the post below in 2016, I came across the original draft of it in one note earlier today while looking for something else. I have only made a couple of superficial changes, and tidied up the language a little, but for the most part this is an exact restatement a decade later… Sadly, something do not change…

So, we are at war AGAIN. 

The last war destabilised a region to the point where extremist militants carved out their own empires across international borders and having done so become a terrorist threat to the western world. 

So we are going to war. Again. .

I know its a wild and wacky idea , but perhaps we could try not bombing people and creating the reason for the next war. We have done this particular dance on and off for about the whole of human history.

Perhaps we could try a new approach , 

I would like to suggest we give it some new name, to distinguish it from war. Perhaps, we could call it Peace. Under the new approach of peace the people we don’t bomb this year will not become the people we then have to bomb in five or ten years’ time when they are frankly a bit pissed off with the west for it policy of bombing them.

Peace would instead mean that having not bombed them now, they will have less inclination to attempt to bomb us in future.  In turn we will then not have to go to war. and the billions and billions spent on the policies of War can be spent on policies of peace. For example, funding the NHS and not having food banks as a basic requirement of a bankrupt welfare state. Free high education, better state pensions, a decent standard of living for all, homes for the homeless. Nice peaceful things rather than bombs.

We have tried this war thing time and again ,

I know as a civilisation we are a bit slow on the uptake at times, but frankly it’s past time we realised war as a policy doesn’t work. That is unless you’re trying to perpetuate a corrupt ruling class, an industrial military block and breed a state of paranoid acceptance among your people of increasingly intrusive state control designed to keep the rich in power and control. A state where the poor do as there told and accept that they are ruled by those who know better. While blaming the problems of the state on the refugees from countries where the ruling elite have perpetuated war.

So…

Why not give this Peace idea a chance, there possibly a song someone could write about that idea now i think of it.

Let’s try not killing more people in wars, followed by wars followed by more wars. constantly breeding the next bunch of militant gun wielding fanatics who want to exact some revenge because we keep bombing them. Frankly, if we were bombed every day year on year, we would probably be a little tetchy ourselves,.

Peace . 

its a new idea , 

lets give it a go …….

Posted in big questions, humour, opinion, politics, rant | Tagged history, iran, peace, politics, trump, war | Leave a comment

Barbaric Pottery and Things of That Nature

Posted on February 17, 2026 by Mark Hayes

Fine Bone China is somewhat literally named. It is made by grinding up bone burnt bone ash and added the resultant powered to a mixture of clay and ground stone. This helps bind the clay allowing you to make much finer, or thinner walled, cups and saucers, or tea pots etc.
This is an ‘ancient Chinese process’, invented in Stoke on Trent in the 1790’s and used to allow British potters to compete with imported porcelain. Indeed it was only called Bone ‘China’ because the rich almost exclusively bought expensive imported Chinese porcelain and so owning a set of fine ‘China’ was considered aspirational among the middle classes.

Buying a set of Bone China was the equivalent of buying a knock off Chinese copy of a Gucci bag. Only the British potters were doing the knocking off. It was also why ‘willow pattern’ Chinese plates were such a popular design, with its ‘ancient Chinese folk story’ told in the pattern that was first designed in Stoke on Trent and is exactly as Chinese as Robbie Williams and Stanley Mathews aren’t.

Bone ash, ground stone and clay are relatively cheap and bone ash really is a great binding agent. As you may imagine, you get bone ash by burning bones. Specify in the case of most fine bone China, the leg bones of cows. Why the leg bones of cows you ask? Well mainly as cow leg bones have a low iron content, burn hotter, produce a finer ash and that helps add to the translucent qualities of fine bone China.

However, while cow leg bones are reputedly the best for the process, most any animal bone will do, chicken perhaps, or horse, or indeed when it comes down to it human… All you need is the right kind of furnace. It is possible therefore, if you are of a mind, to make fine bone China out of the bones of your vanquish foes…

Note. I say possible, not legal, nor entirely ethical…

That said however, skulls are bones. Ergo, if you learn the porters art and find yourself not entirely burdened by moralistic constraints it is possible to drink from the skulls of your enemies. in the most civilized British way imaginable..

This appeals to my barbarian potters soul…

In other news strange people, the kind of people who might well drink tea from the fine bone China of their vanquished foes have been singing things… (actually they are perfectly lovely people who have never ground the bones of their enemies because they don’t have any enemies… )

Feral Folk

Not any more at any rate…

Also in other news the ever lovely Madeleine Holly-Rosing, the writer/creator of the popular and long-running steampunk supernatural series, Boston Metaphysical Society. has a kickstarted going on for her other series Morgana Pendragon. As ever I recommend anything she is involved in.

click on the entirely appropriate picture below to find out more,

Madeleine almost certainly doesn’t drink tea from the fine bone China of their vanquished foes, due to being American and prefering coffee…

And finally as we are on about barbaric things… A reminder that the latest Harvey Duckman anthology is out there in the world, a somewhat pagan delight called Knot On Tree, Fire On Stone: Curse On Axe and Bloody Thrones , because sometimes a title does not know when to stop… (its actually from an ancient four line pagan war poem me an Gillie made up on New years day, that is to say that special kind of ancient that applies to things that aren’t…