Don’t Rush Me

Let me tell you about my son. My son who wouldn’t put his coat on outside even though it was minus 3 celsius this morning. (Eventually I managed to persuade him to be carried so that I could keep him vaguely warm with my body heat.) My son who had to be carried from the … More Don’t Rush Me

Nothing to write

I have nothing to write. It’s a bit like being stuck at a railway station when your train is cancelled. You’re used to jumping on an idea and riding the bumpy journey until you get off – or are thrown off – at a random narrative juncture. Instead your muse didn’t show up today, now … More Nothing to write

What Became of Cylandria, a short story – Part 3 (conclusion)

[Read Part 1 here] [Read Part 2 here] Sometimes, when it’s night time and I just need to think, I’ll leave the lights off in the lab. Let the glow of the emergency exit sign guide me; the corridor light that spills through the window, the 60Hz pulse of the computer monitors, the night light … More What Became of Cylandria, a short story – Part 3 (conclusion)

What Became of Cylandria, a short story – Part 2

[Read Part 1 here] Sophia took me out for drinks and backgammon one evening shortly before her stint with me came to an end just under a year ago. “We have had another letter from the Centre of Scientific Enquiry,” she began, raising her eyebrows. (She said ‘of’ but I knew she meant ‘for’; her … More What Became of Cylandria, a short story – Part 2

What Became of Cylandria, a short story – Part 1

Or, how to create a world in ~44,000 hours I made a world last month. Or, more accurately, following >44,000 hours in the lab, I concluded my final experiment last month. 44,000 hours ought to be enough to achieve something as great as planetary creation. I seem to have become a little distant from some … More What Became of Cylandria, a short story – Part 1

The Scarecrow (Poem)

Darkened sky,Barren hill –Bloody field,Deathly still.Circling cryRings the sky,High aboveThe scarecrow. Hanging head,Flapping wind,Tortured mouth –Weight of sin.All who passLaugh at him,Passing byThe scarecrow. Limp in limb.Heavy eyesDrooping, seeAll that lies.Not a word,Not a sound –MercifulThe scarecrow.

Behind the songwriting process for ‘Spring Rain’ (with lyric video)

Behind the scenes It might be erroneous to advertise that I can give a full behind-the-scenes tour of the writing of this song, as frankly it has been a couple of years since its genesis, and I can’t remember much of how it started. I don’t know which part was the first idea to come. … More Behind the songwriting process for ‘Spring Rain’ (with lyric video)