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Monthly Archives: April 2017

Dakota Scout

She’s out there, in the badlands somewhere, she’s still alive, and Jester is searching for her, obsessed; killing everyone and everything gets in his way.

He’ll find her.

She’s the only good thing he’s ever known.


The Baptist – free download

A northern motel and a possible visit from Lucifer. A novel about life, death and ordinary things.

Free download from 29 April – 3 May. Click image for link.


Started writing again after a gap of four months spent working to pay the rent. New routine too that gets me out of bed at 5am, stretch, get dressed, walk my pooch, then along to MaccyDs for cheap coffee, free wifi and solitude.

Trying to work out what happened to Dakota Scout.


I’m extremely right-brained, which means I tend to understand things from the outside in – I like to know context and purpose, say, before you introduce me to the details  – and sometimes I never get far enough in to really understand.

Also, I think in metaphors and analogies.

On the flip side I’m not so constrained as many people are, in terms of what I dare think or do. My natural state of mind is on the edge of chaos, which is not unusual in itself, but it’s a place where I’m very comfortable, which is, I think, unusual. I’m sure there are millions of potentially great writers out there who will never write a single story because their lives run on rails and writing is away off in a place where the rails don’t run, or they won’t step outside of the constraints of the role that society has given them, or maybe they’d be embarrassed to even declare an interest in becoming a writer.

For me, it’s simple: I’m an adequate writer, but I dare to do it.

I can’t not.



13th April – last day for free download of Grendel, my ultra-violent love story. Click here for the Amazon link. This is the trailer, created by the quiet genius of Lucas:

free jazz

I first heard Free Jazz many years ago and I didn’t get it.

I played it tonight and it clicked.

It’s the sound of every conversation in an apartment block, all heard at once, at something like half nine on a sultry July evening: people on the step, cracking cans, people inside
watching TV, in the basement doing their laundry, traffic, some kid playing scales, football on the radio, nursery rhymes, plumbing, the whistle of a kettle boiling, a dog barks, lovers having a row, police sirens, lovers making up, old people breathing, a shift worker’s alarm clock going off…

I do love it, suddenly, like I just realised that girl I rejected when I was young was not only the loveliest but also the nicest and the most good person I’d ever met, and she’s just called and wants to meet up.

…I’ve gone all Kerouac. Better stop

I blame the wine.



all of the books

Ian works part-time as a DJ. He doesn’t have any vinyl or CDs or anything, everything is stored on a hard drive. ‘It’s got all the tunes,’ he said.

All of the tunes?’ I said.

‘All of them.’

Which made me think, what I want is a kindle with all of the books. All of them.


My soprano sax is called Junko, she’s smooth, sleek and gorgeous, she’s my main squeeze and she’s learning to follow my instructions – she doesn’t freak out on me too much any more.

 Junko. One of my saxophones.




But I bought an alto sax a short while ago too – he’s old, also Japanese-built and surprisingly good at what he does, so I’ve called him Miyagi.

 Mr Miyagi. Not one of my saxophones.




A honey-coloured square-rigger to sail the oceans of my mind.


and pause…

…because what happens next is the part I like.

Sherlock Holmes talked about a two-pipe problem. I’m thinking along the lines of a two bottle-of-wine solution. Preceded by an hour’s meditation and a walk of my pooch.

First I need to wake him up.