A read through Feathers Fall

So a good friend of mine (and the namesake of one of the characters) posted a series of photos as she read the entire way through Feathers Fall last night. I loved the shots and she let me steal them.












April 18, 2015

It’s broken, Jim

So I woke up this morning to a broken website. Not sure what happened. Mildly concerning. But anyway, with some adjustments, we’re back working again. Good times.

April 17, 2015

The struggle


Without a doubt the hardest 10k. I possibly could have gotten there faster, but I needed to go back and edit the work I’d already done to add some semblance of consistency and order to the story and get my head around things. Viridian is in a much better state, but this story is going to be a slog. I can only hope it’s worth it at the end.

Talking about it today, I don’t do this for the love of writing. Sometimes writing is fun, and sometimes it’s anything but. I don’t feel the need to write stories down for me to enjoy them. I sure as hell don’t do it for the money. I write for those little moments when somebody tells me how sweet they found a character in Feathers Fall, or begs me for news on the sequel to Crimson (it’s coming!). I write so that others can read, and I’d pretty much do anything to get more readers. That’s what storytelling is all about.

April 12, 2015


I am eating cake for dinner. Birthday cake. My birthday was a week or so ago, but I reluctantly held the celebration last night. It was fun. Cake is delicious.

It provided an unusual opportunity to flog off copies of my books. It’s a strange experience to earn at your own birthday party. Possibly socially incorrect. Still, it’s nice to see copies of FF and Crimson go out to more readers, and to get the feedback from finished readers.

And it was great to catch up with all my friends. While I see most fairly frequently, some I wish I saw more. And some know just the right thing to say or do.

I am also currently reading Stephen King’s On Writing based on recommendations. Which, so far, is proving to be a fantastic book on the art of writing. I haven’t learnt a thing from it, mind you, because it appears he and I share very similar thoughts on the craft. Unexpected, and delightfully justifying. I only wish I had the opportunity to produce as much as he has.

April 5, 2015

Time – A quick flash story

This was a nightmare that I wrote down and fleshed out:

The oppressive heat hits me as I cross the train station. Like me, I assume, it sweeps over the platform hoping to catch the next train and escape the dead town that beyond the tracks in front of me. Even it has given up trying to fight this lonely desert.

I catch the time from a clock that hung over the station’s entrance. It tells me I still have three minutes to go. I collapse onto the nearest bench, exhausted. The last miles was the hardest. My legs weren’t used to that. Still, anything to ensure I caught this train. I couldn’t miss it. There were reasons. Today, I had to escape. The clock may tell me I had three minutes remaining, but for me, this town had run out of time.

Impulse turns my head to the left. Or fate. Choose whichever. Two benches sit between us. The length of this small town train station. Our eyes meet. Mine catch the briefest of bashful smiles, told with her eyes as much as her lips. For reality, the glance lasts only a moment. For me, it lasts a lifetime. And with that smile, if she weren’t already the girl in my dreams, she becomes her immediately. Another soul waiting to escape. It must be so. She’s beautiful for it. But to find out who she is? It seems such a disservice to fate, to interrupt this moment. There will be time.

The train pulls her eyes from me as it sweeps into the station and blocks the town from view. A brief escape.

A phone rings, its bell echoing throughout the station. Our gazes meet again, this time to share our confusion. We both stand up. Hesitate. Nothing passes between us, yet somehow, between us, a choice is made. The train is long distance. It won’t leave immediately. I have time. Still, I hesitate to turn away. The phone continues to ring.

It takes me longer to find the phone than I’d expected. Not long, only longer. Tucked behind a pillar at the station’s entrance, it rings one more time. I watch the final moments of a conversation between the girl and a train conductor before she ducks into the carriage. I lift the handset off the receiver hook and place the speaker to my ear.

She reappears, taking a seat at the train carriage window in front of me. She turns to look out the window. Our eyes meet again.

Click. The phone goes dead. Too late.

The station clock shows the hour. Blithely, I press the headset onto the hook. My attention elsewhere, it bounces off and drops the ground. One voice tells me to leave it. The rest insist I stay and fix my mess. I should have stopped listening to them a long time ago. The question then, is would I have crossed paths with the girl from the station? I put the phone back and dash across to the train carriage.

“I’m sorry sir. I can’t let you on without a ticket.”
“The next train is in an hour,” he interrupts.

March 18, 2015

The framework

Four floors burn down
Three seconds burn a friendship
A kiss burns two
But only one burns to confess

March 10, 2015

Simpsons Sensory

Some good friends of mine have just opened up their own online business, Simpsons Sensory & Emotional Relief, selling a number of products that provide help and relief for children with various autism spectrum disorders. There’s some fantastic products and ideas that have been developing lots of great feedback since they’ve started. If you’re reading this and might be interested, go check them out and support.

February 27, 2015


Did I mention work was tough lately. It’s taken all the energy out of me, which means less writing and less updates. Mentally exhausting. Certainly no fun.

I wrote a nice little passage for Viridian just then, but I’m still along way behind where I’d like to be.

I was talking about writer’s block and writing on another one of my online haunts, and wrote this little explanation that perhaps give some insight into my writing process:

It’s worth pointing out that my ‘style’ isn’t free writing. I just don’t plot the story chapter by chapter before I start. A story idea for me is a beginning and an end (or really, a climax). I’ll write down scene ideas along the way. When I’m writing a scene, I’ll know what I want to happen in the scene and where I want to go for the next scene. Writing the scene then becomes:
Transition in -> Scene event -> Transition out to next scene.

It’s that transition out where I most often block, specifically, the moment the scene moves from event to transition out. That’s normally where I work myself into a hole.

February 25, 2015

Now in paperback

Feathers Fall is now available in paperback through createspace. And with that, it’ll show up on Amazon shortly as well after it goes through the usual process.

Feathers Fall @ Createspace

February 11, 2015

Four Floors

So I had some inspiration in the shower the other day, in much the same way that Feathers Fall came to me. It was enough to bang out a first chapter that is thoroughly entertaining.
Working title Four Floors. Strangely similar Feathers Fall. What is it about showers and alliteration?

February 6, 2015