Tag: short story

Mother Trees

I’m reworking The Red Spot Murders tonight. It’s a Pourquoi story exploring the haunted house phenomenon, and features a delightful antagonist by the name of Maeve. It was by researching this character that I learned that there are such things as Mother Trees. I had hoped there were. In fact I typed that exact term into my Google search to see what would come up, and was rewarded with this wonderful TED talk with Suzanne Simard, a Canadian ecologist. Damn, the woods have just got a whole load creepier.

UTV - Vallis spring15.JPG

Euryale 1

Tonight, I was listening to the sound of growling made by dogs and wolves for my current project, Euryale (working title). At first, I wanted to describe the sound, but am now thinking to concentrate on the feeling it unearths within us.

Mudlark 5

The final section in Mudlark is entitled, The Mime. I found these two beautiful performances by Jérôme Murat and Clown Adrien whilst studying the art form in preparation to write my story’s conclusion. First draft of the story has just been completed!.

Enjoy the show!

They’re Closer Than You Think

Photograph ©Jaroslaw Datta http://jaroslawdatta.com/

I thought I would share the small piece about Poseidon’s Standing Stones that I was asked to contribute by fellow writer Gregory L Norris. The story has been recently published in ‘From The Corner of Your Eye – A Cryptids Anthology’ by Great Old Ones Publishing, It’s a damn fine book which stands next to Lovecraft’s Necronomicon and Barker’s Imajica on my writing desk and features some pretty creepy tales about those creatures that exist on the edge of our consciousness. ‘Ere’s ‘wot’ I wrote:

Holidays to the coast as a kid had me searching the flat-line horizon for sea-monsters. I found none, so I imagined them. Years later, I imagined one again. I then gave her a place to live, a modest social life including friends from English legend, and of course, a leisure interest. Every monster needs a hobby. All this, I thought, ought not to stretch one’s imagination too far since individuality is embraced by the society I live in, and neighbourhoods have become extremely transient. Maybe she would live unnoticed in a town, possibly making weekly trips to the Benefits Office. Maybe she would be saddened by the lament of the gull or be comforted by the gentle shush of the sea. Maybe she would find love. Or maybe not.
And here we are. How was I to know things were going to happen as they did? After all, she is a cryptid and they’re supposed to stay hidden, aren’t they? Something about the corner of one’s eye, or is that just myth?

To explore what inspired the other authors to write about their particular beasts, please do visit Gregory L Norris’ blog.