…where else, right?
This evening I’m off to Borders in Cardiff with my mate Steve Volk to watch our friends Guy Adams, Mark Morris and Sarah Pinborough (and Peter Anghelides, who I’m looking forward to meeting) talk about their Torchwood novels. From there, pub and curry of course.
Full report soon!
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I haven’t been around here a whole lot lately, and for that, apologies. I’ve just come out of one of my most intensive writing periods ever, during which I haven’t had much time to breathe, let alone blog. But things are calming down a little now (which means that I’m just insanely busy instead of apocalyptically busy … and to be honest, I wouldn’t have it ay other way), so I’ve got time to pop along here and catch up a little.
My story Every Wrong Turn appears in the new anthology Hellbound Hearts, edited by Paul Kane and Marie O’Regan and inpsired by Cliver Barker’s Hellraiser mythos. I’ve only seen the book briefly in passing, but it looks fabulous and is receiving some rave reviews. Dead proud to be included in this one.
I’ve been working on a screenplay and a TV series pitch … more news about them when there is some.
And today I delivered a new novel pitch to my agent. It’s a zombie novel, but with a difference. News on that, too, when it comes in … but I’m very excited about the book.
Some stuff I’ve been reading and listening to:
The Language of Dying by Sarah Pinborough – a shattering, beautiful, insightful novella about death and how we approach it, obviously written by one who knows.
Vardoger by Stephen Volk – an exceedingly spooky and clever tale of an unusual haunting, that’ll keep you guessing until the end.
Old Man Scratch by Rio Youers - an excellent novella from this new writer. He’s so good I may have to kill him.
Resistance by Muse – disappointing. Got a few good toons, but it’s nothing compared to Black Holes & Revelations.
White Rabbit by Nathen Maxwell and the Original Bunny Band – now this is more like it. My album of the year so far, this laid back (until you really listen to the lyrics) reggae-inspired album from the Flogging Molly bass player is a revelation. Don’t expect celtic punk. Do expect insightful lyrics and wonderful music. Top notch.
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Returned home today from a quick, exhausting and very enjoyable trip to London. My wife and I are knackered, and tomorrow it’s the kids’ sports day in school, and then directly aftre that Tracey and the kids are going to Devon for the weekend with a couple of her mates and their children. I’m staying at home with the dog, mainly to work on an exciting proposal … more of which soon, hopefully. So yes, it’s like a holiday for me too, I guess … though I’ll miss them all terribly.
Some highlights from London:
Catching up with my good mate Christopher Golden and his lovely family, and Steve Volk and his charming wife Pat, and Guy Adams, and Lee Thompson, and Sally and Paul, and Sarah Pinborough and her phone, and eating quality Italian food. Beef carpaccio …. oh yes.
Sitting on the balcony of our apartment until one in the morning with Steve and Pat, drinking wine and talking about witches, cats (though unconnected), and idiots.
The London Eye. It’s big. Bloody big. I’m sure I could see my house from the top.
Borough Market this morning, where I bought some hot ginger fudge which was, I have to say, one of the finest tasting things I’ve ever tasted (stop snickering at the back).
And finally … bumping into Peter and Anne who I used to work with (when I had a proper job and didn’t scrape my living making up stuff and selling it).
A brilliant trip, and we’re now determined to take the kids to London later in the year. And oh yeah, over dinner Chris and I mapped out another two trilogies … so that’s the next 6 years sorted.
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