The rules of writing… #1

This may or may not be the first post in a series of posts, in this case thought it is also an old post from 2020 redone as the question that inspired that original post came back around once more. The question a writer friend asked me the first time around being ‘Can I as a sis white male write a novel where the main character is a woman of colour?”

It’s also an excuse to just remind everyone what a wonderful writer N.K Jemisin is.

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N.K. Jemisin is one of my favourite modern fantasy writers, and I love that particular quote.

I say this, but I could have said she is one of my favourite female African American writer. People often believe its important when talking about her work to mention she is both female and black. However, the reason N.K. Jemisin is one of my favourite modern fantasy writers is not because she is a woman, or because she is a member of an ethnic minority in her home country. Its because she is a bloody fabulous writer.

To me, this is much the same way as my love of Anne Mccaffrey’s ‘Shell Ship’ novels has nothing to do with the writer being an Irish American, having red hair and being a woman, or my love of David Gemmell’s heroic fiction has never been informed by his beard and the way he stands when he urinates. What informs my opinion of a novel and of novelists is, and always has been, the quality of the writing, the telling of the tale, the envisioned worlds and the characters who inhabit those worlds… Those ultimately are the only important aspects by which you can just a novel.

That my friend asked the question, ‘Is it okay for me as a straight white male to write a novel in which the main character was a black woman and would his doing so risk offending someone?’ says nothing but good things about him as a writer and a human being. Its a very good question to ask yourself before you put pen to paper.

But it is also one that leans heavily on political correctness. So to quote N K again…

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There is nothing wrong with a writer considering the question of what is or isn’t politically correct. But in my opinion if you’re being politically correct for the sake of being politically correct then your missing the point entirely. You should consider other peoples opinions, you should consider their feelings, and you should do so because, quite simply, that’s the fucking human things to do!

I have the same argument with people who complain about other being ‘woke’ and ‘wokeness’ in general. Which is little more than the latest buzzwords for political correctness. There is nothing wrong with being ‘woke’. Being ‘woke’ to me means little more to me that taking a moments out of your day to consider other people’s feelings and try and avoid upsetting people by railroading through your own opinions…

However, to railroad though my own opinions, if someones opinion is that a privileged white male can not and should not write a story about someone other than a privileged white male, then their opinion is utterly worthless. Write a damn fine story, with a lead character complete with flaws and strengths, well rounded, interesting, and perhaps even a little inspiring. Then I don’t care if you are the same gender, race or sexuality as the character you have written about. Why should I?

And yes, I say this as a privileged sis white male… Do you have a point you wish to make?

The friend who asked that question is a fine writer. I am damn sure that people of every gender, every race, creed and colour will enjoy whatever tale he crafts. Maybe some of them will be damn pleased that the heroine is not an upper middle class white woman, because they aren’t an upper middle class white woman. Or maybe they are, and still are damn pleased.

As I say, I love N K Jemisin’s novels because they are bloody good books, with great characters, set in strange intriguingly different settings and worlds compared to the normal fantasy fare. But I dare say if she chose to write a novel who’s hero was a sis white male in a box standard foe-middle-ages European setting I would also read it, and not for one moment find myself wondering if it was okay for her to write such a novel because she is a black woman…

This is a bit of a rant I know. This is also just my opinion, yours might differ… But if you think any writer should only write that which they personally experience due to their gender, sexuality and skin colour, then yours is an opinion I don’t give a damn about, because I believe you are fundamentally wrong.

That said, every writer should ask themselves if what they are writing might offend someone…

Then they should write it anyway, because someone will always be offended, but just because someone is offended it doesn’t mean they are right. It just means they are offended. The job of the writer is to write the best story they can, to write good believable ‘real’ characters, that people what to read. If the writer does that and someone is offended that the writers main character isn’t the same skin colour, sexual ordination, or gender as the writer, then I do not despair of the writer, but of the one who has taken offence.

In short ‘Rules of writing #1’ write the great characters you want to write, not the characters people think you should write.

Of course, I said all this in the original post when I was writing ‘Maybe’ a book with a lead character who is both female and half Polynesian. Neither of which I am. Which is partly why I was reminded of it earlier as current WIP which has a main character who is in theory, at least in the start of the novel, a sis white male and remains that way most of the time. When Lucifer Mandrake isn’t being Lucy at any rate.

I am not half Polynesian, nor am I female, yet maybe remains a popular novel because I wrote Eliza Tu-Pa-Ka well. I am not a Trans magician in Victorian England who presents as male with the aid of carefully constructed glamours either, but I hope I write Lucifer Mandrake just as well as I did Eliza..

I asked myself a great many questions before I set out to write ‘The Hanoverian Conspiracy’ Whether I was going to offend anyone by not writing about a sis white, slightly over weight, grumpy Yorkshireman in his early fifties, wasn’t one of them.

Write the characters you want to write.

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Oh and go read N.K. Jemisin you’ll not regret it

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Words to music…

When I write, I write to music.

The Music changes,depending on mood, and what I am writing. Often times the music influences the words, not so much on a individual basis but in sense of place, emotion and feeling. So sometimes the right music is needed for what I am attempting to write. As it hard to write intense emotion while listening to Aqua sing Barbie Girl…

In fairness I have never deliberately listened to Aqua sing Barbie Girl…

Sometimes howsoever a musical choice is just perfect for the mood you are writing, sometimes that means rediscovering a forgotten classic…

The trick is to keep writing, and resist the urge to dance. Particularly if your are writing in the office..

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Severn sisters…

Somewhere along the banks of the river Severn there is a small tumbledown stone cottage, with a patchy thatched roof which I suspect the local swallows have been stealing away for nesting material for a decade or so. A small plume of wood smoke from the crooked chimney lets you know it’s occupied rather than abandoned. You know there is a stove below that chimney and something is slowly bubbling away on it…

The garden that has lost a battle with weeds and brambles, if not the war, made it hard to be sure if that was the case. Though the trio of large sunflowers, tied to bamboo canes, should have been a clue. Strange mosses gather on the old stones and an old stump in the middle of the garden has long been given over to interesting fungi, which is either delicious, deadly or both. There is also an old well at the back of the garden. Not the picturesque kind that grants wishes, but the kind something that was once a woman might climb out of in a thin cotton slip and drip ominously at you beneath a tangle of unkempt hair.

On the breeze as you pass by there is a smell of baking bread, and the iron tang of blood, but what you hear is the rhythmic thunder of a keyboard being struck, or perhaps wrestled into submission. A word herder is at work, and the act of creation is as violent, painful, bitter, dark, inspired and wonderful as it ever is…

Of course, none of this is true… At least in what we can loosely describe as this reality, but there are others, even if they are only realities of our imagination… And the river Severn is tidal, sometimes to an extreme degree… As is the number seven…

None of this is in any way relevant to the reason for this post or the ‘word herder’ who’s book I am reviewing. She lives in a nice little flat, in a nice little town and not a tumbledown witches cottage slowly giving itself back to the earth. But in some other version of the universe, she should, at least for a couple of days a week, in the middle of summer, if its not raining.

Spells For the Second Sister by Nimue Brown

Seven is a strange number. According to numerology the number seven represents perfection and is a symbol of eternal life. Seven suggest completeness, there are seven wonders, seven days to the week. It is also the number of change, it is often said that at the age of seven we become complete within ourselves and our true personalities manifest. While its multiples in years are also times of change. At fourteen we truly become teenagers. At twenty-one we become truly adults with all the horror that entails. At twenty-eight we start to look for something more than hedonism and joy. At thirty-five we confront the panic of a looming middle age, half out three score and ten already gone… Forty-two we reconcile with the past and access the future with an acceptance we could not find before… Then at Forty-nine and we rip apart reality and reorder all existence… As for fifty-six I’ll let you know when if I get there…

Spells For a Second Sister is by way of a journal written by Kathleen Sylvia West, documenting her life, starting with the evens of her fourteenth year and moving up in increments of seven. How true any of the events described are is a matter of perspective. Also which version of Kathleen is writing her journal is also a mater of perspective. She’s not entirely sure herself much of the time, what is true, what is false recollection, what is wishful thinking, what isn’t. Which version of Gloucester did she wake up in this morning. Is the sinister mouse circus still opposite the cafe? Whats at the heart of the bookshop? Who is Merryweather? How exactly do you bake bread with blood in the middle? Is the tide coming in?

With a supporting cast of ‘interesting’ individuals including other versions of herself, this is at times horror story, fairy tale, urban fantasy, coming of age, philosophical, parable for the modern age and just a little Micheal Moorcock at his most surrealist. While its not in anyway similar to his ‘The Fireclown’/’the Winds of Limbo’ it has a vibe that reminds me of it.

There is a lot, and I do mean a lot, that could be unpacked here. Philosophy, morality, existential guilt, self-loathing, self-consuming… There are a lot of levels to this novel, its smart, sexy, funny, engrossing and layered with complexity. As well as the number seven…

Or its just escapist waffling fun with lines line this randomly sneaking up on you…

...the Local unicorn is a pervert.

The novel works on whatever level you wish to consume it. Though it is hard to walk away form it without some complex thoughts. I am still trying to digest it myself. Not to mention some of the singular lines contained within it. What I do know is it was weird, wonderful and wild.

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Wisdom in word form…

Not done one of these for a while, but I’ve collected quotes for years and occasionally I feel obliged to share a few. We all need a little more wisdom in our life…

And some times just need to read a line that makes us smile…

Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘I’m possible’! ~ Audrey Hepburn

Be wiser than other people, if you can; but do not tell them so. ~ Lord Chesterfield

Life is like the ocean, it goes up and down. ~ Vanessa Paradis

Some people are so poor, all they have is money. ~ Jack Kerouac

A clever person solves a problem. A wise person avoids it. ~ Albert Einstein

Do Kind things for badgers ~ Nimue Brown

Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise. ~ Sigmund Freud

Three o’clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made. ~ Groucho Marx

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Pointy Eared Humans

‘The Rings of Power’ Amazon’s Lord of the Rings prequel, Love letter to Tolkien’s mythology, or poorly written Sauron, Galadriel romance fan fiction? Brought to you, as it was, by more money than sense, it has it’s detractors. I have to admit I have a certain ambivalence towards it, I enjoyed the first series, and enjoyed playing ‘spot the dark lord’, but some of the flaws, of which there were many, were jarring.

The ropy CGI of the opening scene of Galadriel on the ice-wall was as convincing as some Doctor Who special effects form the late 70’s. While the ‘epic’ battle of the south-lands looked like a minor squabble between a couple of villages. For all the money thrown at the series at points it looks like it was filmed for spare change and a couple of bits of string. It reminded me at times of the mid-90’s New Zealand fantasy TV series with slightly better sets and a budget that stretched to decent make-up.

Also its reputed budget could have put a sizeable dent in child poverty, world hunger or any other good cause that springs to mind, rather than average at best eye candy for a few hours… I struggle with this as a concept.

So, as I say, ambivalent. All that said however what it did do well was the elves and the sense of otherness about them. Which brings me to The Witcher, or more specifically The Witcher prequel currently on netflic’s Blood Origin’s… Which doesn’t.

Now before this becomes a rant, which it will in a paragraph or two, I want to be clear that I love the original series, which is one of the best written fantasy series I’ve ever watched. The first season is particularly masterful in the way it was written out of sequence to better tell the story. The second season suffers slightly from the success of the first as it can not pull of the same trick, but is still good solid fantasy, made for a fraction of ‘The Rings of Powers’ budget, but is far more polished. The world is well imagined, and carefully true to the source material of the books (which I read afterwards) and the games which I have never really played.

In those two original series, the elves are pitched carefully to have parallels to medieval European Jewish society, and the treatment of the Jews which, well, the holocaust was hardly a unique event in the history of the European Jewish peoples. They were the others within society, despised, hated and blamed for all the ills of society by a cynical ruling class that will always use the other as scapegoats. (these days its immigrants that fill the role of ‘the other’ but there is nothing new under the sun). If your people are starving, blame the ‘others’. If there are no jobs blame ‘the others’ etc… The elves of ‘The Witcher’ are in essence an oppressed race in a society dominated by humans. They are also a race that has been subsumed by humanity as a servile class. However as they live within a human dominated world and have for thousands of years it makes sense that they have adopted many human traits. Ten thousand years of oppression, and being forced to ‘fit in’ with the human overlords will do that to you.

But still they hanker back to the golden age before humans arrived. When the world was an elvish world.

In short, these humanised elves felt right in the original series. They were still ‘other’ and pitched as such but how they acted made sense. Also towards the end of the second season the elves became far more ‘elvish’, rebelling against the oppression of thousands of years.This again made sense and was part of the wonderful writing I have come to expect from the series.

That writing was why I had high hopes for The Witcher: Blood Origins. On the face of it those high standards slipped a little. But it was still a good fantasy romp all the same. A bit two dimensional, with two dimensional characters and it suffered from been based on deep back story, in many ways it had similar issues to the writing on ‘The Rings of Power’ yet it drew on thinner less defined ground to start with. It also had a fraction of the main series budget,which showed at times. None of this was a problem however. It was watchable fun… Except…The elves…

Blood Origins is set in a world before the coming of humanity. This is an entirely elvish world… Yet the elves here are basically nothing more than humans with pointy ears. The society is in effect entirely human and if you remove the pointy ears from all the actors you don’t need to change anything else for this to be a world mirroring medieval Europe…

Only in this version of medieval Fantasy land Europe its the dwarves who are the Jews, oppressed by elves (presumably this is because the writers felt someone has to be the Jews…) The dwarves it seems were there before the elves , and we discover they are the ones who actually built the mysterious monoliths… I suspect this is a Russian doll of a plot point and one day we will discover the dwarfs oppressed a race of squid people who actually built them.

But back to elves…

Now I am not saying all elves need to be Tolkineque. The elves in the Dragonage games are a great example of a different kind of elves… But what they do need to be is something other than just ‘humans with pointy ears’. They actually need to be ‘other’, different, strange… This entire series hangs off one mage who does everything because he is insecure about his origins, his social class, and desperate for power because of it. All very human. Every in the make of society is the same too. Noble houses ruling, merchant class been merchanty. Lower class being trodden on.

Nothing about these elves is anything other than human, except the ears… The golden age of elves was a short lived oppressive empire after a thousand years of war between kingdoms left the continent stricken with famine… This is not a glorious elven past, its a mirror of the political and social reality of The Witcher present, but everyone has pointy ears…

It’s watchable, there are some nice touches. Lenny Henry (who is also in the rings of power) makes for a great villain as Balor. There are nice little bits at the end, hints to the main series with a ancient elf mage realising he can use the monoliths to travel in time. The commander of the elf army picking up a bone helmet after he is vanished to another plain of existence by Balor. A helmet worn by the leader of the wide hunt…. There are other little ominous things as well. There is in fact much well crafted here…

There is much good about the series, much it adds to The Witcher universe….

It’s just all let down by the lazy ‘humans with pointy ears’ thing…

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Books of the year 2022 edition

As with last year this may be slightly early, as there is a fair chance I’ll read a couple more before the end of the year. (in fact I know I will as there are a couple I am reading at the moment), but building on the tradition started way back in 2021 it is time for my annual Passing Place Blog Books Of The Year Awards. An with last year this award ceremony carries very little prestige, and no prize money… It also doesn’t have a particular order, but does include all the books I have reviewed on the blog ‘this year…’ for a given quantity of twelve months since the last rewards so includes books read in December last year…

The Award for: Book by a Steampunk Author that not Steampunk but in in fact beautifully written dark age fantasy with more than a Hint of David Gemmell in his pomp, goes to Annis: Goddess of Sorrows by Mat McCall

The Award for: Book not being a just another Talented child novel… with special mention of strange nocturnal bees, indoor rain, quires of vixens, and dirigible’s used as giant night lights… Goes to Monica Orphan By Stephen Palmer , with equal mention of the other two novels in his Conjuror Girl series.

The Award for: Book that includes Were-Otters and that not even slightly being what the novel is about but by god its beautiful, wonderful and deeply, impossibly, fascinating… Which is a new and very singular category, goes to Hunting the Egret by Nimue Brown

The Award for: Sequel for a book from last years list that is even better than the first book and deeply deeply sinister on a whole new level… goes to Visitation by Kieth Healing

The Award for: Best book in a formatted I can’t stand but read and enjoyed anyway… A special category for books of micro fiction goes to Micro Moods by Amy Wilson. If you like micro fiction give it a try…

The Award for: Books that include a fictional book within them that contains the sage advice like Do kind things for Badgers goes to When we are Vanished by Nimue Brown, just read it…. and remember Be more like the toadstool. Then you will be happy.

The Award for: ‘Third book in a trilogy written by the person who writes this blog’ goes to A Squid on the Shoulder by Mark Hayes., No its not nepotism, I am not related to myself… Did I mention the giant volcano powered cannon pointed at the moon?

The Award for: Novella that was a stretch goal on a kick started and I don’t actually know if it was published or not but it certainly should be… goes to Semblance of Truth by Nimue Brown… Yes that is her third appearance in this list, whats you point, have you not read Nimue Brown? And if not why not?

The Award for: ‘Book that grew out of a series of blog posts on this very blog and is now strands as a warning to all of the dangers of H P Lovecraft… goes to Lexinonicon: A Blaggers Guide to the Writings of HP Lovecraft by Me… Still not Nepotism, though I have been know to sleep with myself… I also know how to summon the old gods, whats your point again?

The Award for: Best Hardback containing a trilogy I love, goes to Hanover by CG Hatton, which is three of my favourite books sandwiched into a lethal weapon…

The Award for: I saw the ending coming a mile off, yet I was still both surprised and delighted by it when I got there… goes to Critical Nexus by Kate Baucherel the forth in her SimCavalier series

The Award for: Anthology of the year goes to Harvey Duckman Volume 9, by Various the one with the octopus on the cover that may or may not include a story inspired by the wisdom of an old plumber written by his son.

The Award for: Book by an author who is a huge ball of over-excitement but delightful with it goes to Dexter and Sinister: Detecting Agents by Kieth W Dickinson, warning book contains cats… well a cat, almost a cat at any rate….

The Award for: Best use of the colour orange… goes to Apocalypse When? Apocalypse How? a book of photograph by the immensely talented Ian Robinson , which also contains stories and poems from the writers and poets of the Post Apocalypse School of Teesside, This may include a story by me as they gave me an honour degree in ‘Waffling on about the importance of tin-openers’, I look forward to my post graduate studies in zombie slaying and woodcraft.

The Award for: Novella I loved but and still waiting for book 2 of, what he just made a new (and very cute) human with his wife, oh fine I’ll wait then…. goes to Engines and Amulets : The Aethertide Saga Book 1 by Craig Hallam. It also has a pretty cover… It’s all purple smoke (the book not the baby)

The Award for: Book by another author who for some reason thinks they should write this series under a pen name… goes to Dormant Magick: The Whitby Witches Book 1 By Lillian Brooks, who has also received an award under her actual name in this awards ceremony. Frankly I loved Lillian’s novel and don’t know why Amy feels she needs to write them under another name, though Lillian is taller and looks better in a pointy hat…

The Award for: Proper folklore of the dark and twisted verity that makes you skin itch and sets your teeth on edge… goes to Lore of the Saelvatici by Steven C Davis, which was also the most surprising book I read all year in many respects, and utterly visceral.

The Award for: Anthology of the year, yes a second one, goes Harvey Duckman Volume 10, the one with the gargoyle on the front by Various ( and me ) contains among other things ‘The Ballard of Jonny Two Bones’ which could be described as a western, for the first paragraph or two. It then becomes something else entirely…

The Award for: Book based on a book written by a long dead relative who based there book on a Wagnar opera… goes to Bleak Future : The flying Dutchman book 1 by Nils Visser which was also beautifully illustrated by Julie Gorringe. Its a fabulous read, but don’t ask me about the flag…

The Award for: A hardback you could Muller a badger with… goes to The Complete Hannibal Smyth Misadventures By Mark Hayes*. This is the first three Hannibal Smyth novels combined into a single book, with extra’s. It exists because I wanted a copy of the novels in hardback… *Mark is a wonderful author and a delightful human being and you should all read his books. He also likes people to buy him gin and tonics with a slice of lime, light on the tonic…

The Award for: Non-fiction book of the year other than the Lexinonicon… goes to Wyrd by Kieth Healing. Its all about runs and ‘Ball of string theory’ …

The Award for: Novella I really wish was a full sized novel , its just that damn good… goes to Owl Eyes Motel by Barbara Avon, which is just delightful in it’s dark sexy wonderfulness

The Award for: Novel I have been waiting for for four years that did not disappoint… goes to A Boy and a Rat by Peter James Martin. Which Peter can pick up provided he doesn’t send Riz…

And there we are, that the full list, mostly… I did a lot of reviews this year and some short ones and frankly the list was getting out of hand. It was only twelve long last year… I don’t really have an overall book of the year. I recommend them all or they would not be on this list, but if you twist my arm its Hunting the Egret by Nimue Brown, because, I’m a sucker for a love story, and were-otters…

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Rune Rat Rune…

Some four years back I reviewed a book of interconnected short stories about a middle-aged paranormal detective and a ‘rat’, which you could at a stretch call his partner. I equated this to something along the lines of Jim Butchers Harry Dresden novels, but set in Teesside, with a talking (generally swearing) rat. It was my first foray into the alternative Teesside of Brennan and Riz. A place I have visited many times since in the form of the authors micro tweet stories (frankly if you don’t follow their author on twitter you should) and with Peter James Martin’s many contributions to the Harvey Duckman Anthologies featuring the unlikely duo.

Back then Peter told me he was working on a novel about Brennan and Riz which was in essence the origin story. I looked forward to it, and waited…

and waited…

and waited…

and hunker down due in a global pandemic…

and waited…

and came out of the other side of a global pandemic

and waited…

and waited…

Bloody authors, tell you they are writing something and then take an age to get it written, and don’t get me started on Patrick Rothfuss… If I wasn’t just as bad my self I would scream a little…

Then finally…

So you wait for years for a book to arrive and finally it does and it sits on your to read pile for months, because readers… But eventually I got around to reading it and I was not disappointed.

Riz, when he is not swearing, cursing and generally been a bit of a swine, is a rat. Actually he is a rat when he is doing all that as well. He is also something else. Very definitely something else, but want that is, is a question that gonna remain unresolved. We may be better not knowing, certainly Brennan is probably better off in the dark.

There is a fair chance Brennan would have been better off if the rat never hid in his backpack to avoid the spring-heeled goblin murders lead by Jack the Ripper, who’s working for a Fae lord who wishes to ‘Make humans believe in the fae again’

The the emphasis being very much on ‘Make’ as it is hard not to believe in mystical creatures when they start ripping your face off, and murdering everybody. The survivors will almost certainly believe…

Luckily for Brennan he and his best friend Merrick, along with Valarie who might be Brennan’s girlfriend at some point, with a little help from the rat, are sure to be more than a match for the ancient unspeakable evil Fae Lord and his army of murdering Zebedee impressionists… Just as long as they are all on the same side and none of them are too busy squabbling. Thankfully Riz is a calming influence and Bren’s parents are perfectly normal…

Peter writes with wit and charm on every page, there is also a sense of darkness and dread that seeps in at the seams (possibly that’s Riz). If this is the first time you have come across Brennan and Riz then you are in for a treat, if you have cross paths before you are not going to be disappointed.

Also, whats a littler mass murder between friends.

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Harvey Duckman Presents Volume 12

Also contains Lit’Plastic Santa’s which is a somewhat anti-Christmas story. Because who doesn’t like a little brutal murder in the Holiday season …

Ben Sawyer's avatarBen Sawyer

“Saw Dickens do a reading once. My God, that man’s voice does things to me.”

– Holly Trinity

Harvey Duckman Presents Volume 12, in the snow with a Santa hat and UFOs flying past

Harvey Duckman Presents’ 2019 Christmas Special has been re-released just in time for the holidays, now folded into the series’ main range as Harvey Duckman Presents Volume 12. (Days of Christmas, that is…)

Among the fantastic festive tales of renegade fairies, festive dream worlds, nightmarish Santas and why elf on a shelf is just plain dystopian is my first contribution to the Harvey series, The Carol of the Bells. It’s also the first print appearance of Holly and Mira, who investigate the mystery of York Minster’s ghostly monk. Very happy to see this collection getting a new push.

Lurking inside are stories by Thomas Gregory, Andy Hill, Peter James Martin, Craig Hallam, Kate Baucherel, Cheryllynn Dyess, Marios Eracleous, Zack Brooks, Ben McQueeney, Maggie Kraus, Gerald Wiley, Lynne Lumsden Green, Mark Hayes…

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The Sad Cthulhu World Tour 2022 is over…

On the bookshelf of books ‘Wot I’ve Wrote’ sits Sad Cthulhu, usually… But on those occasions, when I venture out into the cruel cold world to sell books at events, he comes with me. Clearly this is merely an affectation on my part and in no way because of a deep-seated worry that if I left him behind, he might burn down the house and rampage through the village. Crashing through realities as he did so to harken the stars becoming right and the coming of Hastor, Azathoth and other being from the cold unforgiving cosmos…

Over the course of the year I’ve gotten around a fair bit with him, in fact there was only one bookish event he didn’t go with me to. Funnily enough the one that was actually just about books, specifically a book about the Apocalypse, he might of enjoyed that one…

The first event of the year was back in April at Scarborough SFI, then a nice local event in Stockton, before I dragged him along to a plethora of events in deepest darkest strangest Gloucestershire (which is a constant delight, as are the locals), in Shroud and Gloucester itself. Oddly the first doctors he met were in Scarborough… along with a Wookie…

Its been a busy year though I should do more events I know. Sad Cthulhu is home now on the bookshelf once more, and will be going no where for a while..,.

He does not have a hat, thanks to The Octopus Lady, Who says “he just spoke to me…”

So that’s not worrying at all…

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Yule is coming…

Its that time of the year again, the nights are drawing in, there is a chill in the air, entities from beyond what we foolishly believe to be reality are seeping through the cracks…

It’s time to mull some wine, and roast innocent vegetables. Time to contemplate our nearest and dearest and how we should encourage them to read more books. Perhaps they are interested in the works of Lovecraft and need a guide on what not to read… Perhaps they hanker to visit a quiet little bar perched on the edge of oblivion staring out across a universe and asking the questions Why?

Maybe you should encourage them to indulge such splendid questions on love, death and the wisdom of cats. Give them the gift of Inuit saga’s, Horticultural demonology, flint-eyed gunslingers, wolf creation myths and the right way to drink brandy…

Or maybe just Maybe…

Other book are also available… Merry Yule…

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