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Monthly Archives: November 2015

Urban Pastoral

December 4-8 – Free Kindle Download

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UB

The Heaven Field

A story of redemption.

Free Kindle Download 28th November – 2nd December.

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The Heaven Field

replicant

Is Deckard an android? Deck

The answer is yes.

And no.

The movie works either way, so choose whichever belief works for you. You can change your mind and swap, midway through the movie, or you can watch it again and think the opposite of what you did the first time, you can believe both are true at once, it really doesn’t matter.

That’s how good it is.

The book, in which he definitively is not an android, is even better. But not because of that.

Stateless – Free Download

 

Stateless word coverWhen you write a story and have it published, you’re putting it out there, naked and vulnerable:

Stateless is as naked and vulnerable as it gets for me. It’s the end of something, in the story, and for me as a writer.

If you have kindle it’s available for Free Download from 23-27 November.

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tumult

 

fireDo you ever sense the crackle and static of an approaching storm?

 

The Great Gatsby

Where do you start with this book?

Jay Gatsby’s desire for everything he isn’t, and everything he wants to be encapsulated in the shallow, vacuous heart of Daisy, the woman who destroys him?

Or maybe just the shirts scene? shirt

Everytime I venture near Gatsby I fall in love with his desire; his hunger; his ambition. And it makes me incredibly sad.

I keep meaning to watch the movie, maybe I will someday, but the book is enough.

 

The Garden of Eden

My favourite Hemingway novel is The Garden of Eden, a book he never finished in his lifetime and was only completed after he died, with the publisher painstakingly going through his various drafts and editing it into shape. Some say they butchered the original manuscript. I only know what I’ve read.

And it’s a gorgeous book. Garden

I won’t give away the plot, but if your impression of Hemingway is of a hunting, shooting, posturing macho man, then this gives the lie.

Click on the image and buy a copy. Read it yourself. Give it to someone as a gift.

story of the month

As a writer, I’m patchy, but when I get it right, and by right I mean exactly the way I like it, then it sings.persephone

November’s Story of the Month Persephone is as good as I can write.

If you like it, great, if not, no worries, but it’s what I do.

not the dark side

As a friend of mine says of the dark stories I always seem to write, “those James Ross stories, yuck!” but with the completion of Stateless, I think I’ve said goodbye to all that. Leaving it all behind.

It will be nice to write from a place of light. But I will need to learn to speak the language.

Babe

With the publication of Stateless I’m pretty much done with Christopher James ‘Babe’ Walker. In fact, I suspect that I’m moving away from the darker side of fiction.

Babe came to me in a number of guises: the first was way back, before I ever wrote stories, when I was going through a phase when I wasn’t a good guy. Not a monster or anything, just a bit of an idiot.

In one of the many stupids situations I found myself in back then, there was a guy I needed to beat unconscious, but I had a serious leg injury. And it made me consider, how do I approach a situation from which I can’t run away? And how do I get close enough to someone, and destroy them so quick, that they can’t even take a couple of steps away to relative safety.

A few months after that, I was in a queue for a nightclub and four smart young guys got out of a Range Rover and walked past the queue, and after a brief chat with the doormen, who were all smiley and friendly, they were allowed in. I asked my pal who they were and he said, ‘Robbers. Armed robbers.’ They were just kids. No older than twenty or twenty-one years old. Apparently even the Range Rover was stolen – every week they’d land at a club in town in an expensive freshly stolen car. They were outlaws.

That same night I had a row with one of those guys, and being hotheaded back then, I flung him up against a wall and threatened to tear off his head. He just looked at me like it was nothing, like I was made of glass and he was looking through me. It turned out, he was the driver, much sought after amongst the criminal cognoscenti, and while he didn’t do violence himself, he wasn’t scared by it either. I let him go and he straightened his clothes and walked off like it hadn’t happened. Unfazed.

The other guys were thugs though, and I maybe should have been worried. But it didn’t matter because within a year, two of them were dead, including the driver, and the other two had disappeared from the planet.

And later still, looking back at those two moments, at the back of my proto-writer’s mind I just thought, hello.