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Where we are now

The first print proof of Sinful Submissions was completed a couple of months ago, but I wasn’t happy with it so the time since has been spent improving it. The text itself is the same, but I’ve changed the formatting and moved the pictures around a bit. The revised version should be available within a couple of weeks and it’ll be available as a paper book from this website and from Amazon. I’ll post links when it’s up. There will also be an ebook version of Sinful Submissions coming soon, for Kindle and other platforms.

In the mean-time, for NaNoWriMo 2011 I wrote the first draft of the follow-up, Succumbing. This is another collection of short stories about sex and death featuring a range of returning characters from Sinful Submissions along with a load of new faces with their own tales to tell. Find out why Antoine stopped using paint and how he learned to use corpses as the basis for his great works and how distance helped to bring Richard and Laura together.

I’ve added a Page to this site where Beheld and Sinful Submissions can be bought directly from me. Email me at if you need.

Do you know the truth about African mango?

Apparently it’s been a little while since I’ve updated anything. Let’s just pass it off by pretending I’ve been doing something useful in the intervening time that has precluded internet access, like working with starving children somewhere in Africa. Not feeding them of course, making sure they dig enough to keep me supplied with diamonds.

That aside, the book that I wrote over the course of NaNoWriMo last year is perilously close to being unleashed upon the world. To save me from having to read back over what I’ve written about it I’ll proceed on a basis of assumed ignorance, which is generally one of the safer assumptions that can be made. National Novel Writing Month is an annual project that encourages people to write a novel (they call it 50k+ words) in a month, specifically November of each year. The rough text of Sinful Submissions was completed within it last year. Other than some light editing the text is as it was written.

Sinful Submissions is a collection of interlinked stories about sex and passion. Mostly sex. Stories include the life affirming story of how Svetlana became a mail-order bride, how Antoine’s love of the dead helped him become great, why isn’t always the priest’s fault when there’s sinning in church and how John and Beatrice found out what really made them happy. Needless to say, it includes explicit sexual content.

It’ll be available via Amazon and other online shops, as well as directly from me. It’ll also be available from Amazon as an ebook for Kindle. In addition to the text, the physical book includes more than twenty of my drawings. I’ve also designed the covers of both version, using my drawings. The costs haven’t been fixed yet but I’ll be posting details shortly. I’ve got a sample story from it that is available to anyone that would like to read it for no charge. You can find it here. It’s also available as a .pdf for those that prefer them. Drop me a line at if you’re interested.
Sinful Submissions
Sinful Submissions 1


I’ve foolishly got out of the habit of writing things to add here, so I suspect that I ought to try and fill the gaps of the last couple of months. Two main projects have absorbed the brunt of my creative time since the end of November. The one is getting Sinful Submissions sorted for publication, which I hoping to have completed within the next couple of months.

The other project, is well… somewhat more ephermeral.

The above picture will be easily immediately understood as being a sign of a minor Minecraft habit or lead to heavy confusion, depending upon the individual’s familiarity with that most successful of indie games from the last year.

Compared to some of the projects that I have seen posted online by fellow addicts of this latest digital narcotic mine is very simple, but it still involved the wasting of a significant amount of quality time. As with most people, I had been deposited by the game onto a patch of sand surrounded by an elaborate and rugged landscape of brightly coloured cubes and had immediately set to work punching trees and sheep to see what would happen. Clutching fistfuls of wool and wood with bloodied knuckles I was able to start interacting with the world in earnest and seeing what it might hold for me.

My first night in game was spent cowering in the dark in a small cave that I had hacked into the side of a hill, listening to the sinister noises as zombies and the like prowled around outside, much too close for comfort.

In time I developed the rudiments of a material culture in this new land, focussed on an excess of dirt and stone and just enough coal and iron to scrape by. My alien society of one, surrounded by day by the placid crowds of cows, sheep and pigs and the dangerously aggressive zombies, skeletons and creepers that come out at night was forced to focus heavily on its defence. The green hills that I was so free to wander in daylight became hostile to me when the moon rose and I was forced to spend my nights safe within the solid stone walls of the increasingly elaborate fort that I had built for myself, which can be glimpsed in the top left corner of the screen shot.

Over time I felt like there was something missing from the society that I was developing. I had architecture, agriculture, industry, mining, but what we were lacking was ritual. Where better to start than with that oldest of ritual forms… the stone circle?

NanoWriMo Day 28

I broke 50k words yesterday but have continued messing around with the text today. It’s a little over 52k and feels like it’s a completed something. It’s more an interconnecting sequence of short stories than it is a novel but it’s worked as a thing. I’ve seen some people have managed to break 100k in the month and are still going. Crazy people. I’m guessing they can’t have had jobs to go to.

NaNoWriMo day 17

So… a bit over half way through the month and I’ve got 36,000 words down and my brain is edging towards collapse. I seem to have exhausted my internal supply of debauchery and have had to resort to writing stuff that is weirding me out quite considerably. With the topics I’m covering, that’s probably a good thing. I didn’t really think I had these limits. I suppose that’s something interesting to come out of this exercise. Working title for the book is Sinful Submissions, which possibly hints as to the nature of the content. Breaking 50,000 is still seeming terribly possible. It might be an idea for me to let my brain rebuild for a day or so before I head into the final stretch though.

NaNoWriMo Update

So, eleven days into NaNoWriMo and I haven’t given up yet. Admittedly, besides that, working and sleeping I also haven’t got much else done. I’m so far on 26,000 odd words, which for less than two weeks is feeling pretty good. As for the content, well… it’s interesting. Challenging you might say. Taboos are being broken. Bad things are being discussed. Isn’t that what writing is for, though?


So, having avoided it for some years now, this year I’ve committed myself to doing NaNoWriMo . Considering that on my last book I managed to work the fastest I’ve ever done and produce about 10,000 words a month, it feels like it’s going to have to take a bit of a leap in  my creative abilities to do 50,000 in November. Am I concerned? Not exactly. I’m just doubtful the product will be much good.

As it stands I’ve got no real idea what I’ll be creating. In some ways I think that is preferable. I’m reluctant to “waste” any of my existing stuff on this, likely as whatever I work on is to become shit. Anyway, the way that I work, I don’t plan/draft/sketch out characters etc. before I start the actual writing. Most of my stuff gets written because I sat down and wrote a chapter of it from cold without knowing where it was going, and then looked at it later and decided that I had a novel there.

I haven’t decided yet what I’ll do with the product of this fevered period. I’ll have to judge it when it’s finished. It is likely to contain a fair amount of fucking though. In case of creative fallow periods, it’s either people fucking or spontaneous outbreaks of random violence to get things moving again.

Howard Marks Aftermath


So, now this is up and running I really ought to start posting shit on it. I just left a Howard Marks gig, in the Globe in Cardiff. It’s a small, weird little venue that can apparently hold 300 but in my experience could only manage it if they’re a terribly intimate 300, y’know, like the ones that fought Xerxes, that spent all day fighting and all night making friends.

For me, the timing was suspiciously perfect. I was supposed to see him at Guilfest in 2008, but I foolishly assumed that being the top billing in the comedy tent meant that he would be doing his thing late night. As it was I was mistaken, as I discovered at about 6.30pm when I was wandering off from having completed the necessary negotiations for the purchase of an elaborate soap-stone pipe I wandered past the tent, on my way to see somebody who doubtless seemed terribly important at the time but I now can’t remember. Maybe I’ll look  it up in the edit. Regardless, I caught the last half minute or so of his set purely because the strength of his accent made me turn round. I can’t tell you if it was a good set, but he got a decent round of applause from those that had seen more of it than me.

Tonight, I was in the venue for much longer than he was. However charmingly small and close to my flat it may be, they do have a bad habit of opening the doors at 7.30 for a gig that isn’t starting until 9.00. I really ought to have learned by now, but we didn’t have tickets and instinct had told me that it might sell-out. As It was, we spent a long time in a queue, then an absurdly long time drinking and being cramped before he came on. The place was crowded, loud and sweaty and the floor had that disconcerting stickiness that’s so often present in venues.

As for the man himself, well, he’s just one of those people. Of course he’s a good speaker. Of course he’s an interesting character. Even if for some reason you aren’t interested in the most famous supplier of cannabis that the UK has ever had, he’s worth your attention because he’s a good raconteur and what I will regretfully lapse into cliche for long enough to call a lovable rogue.

He’s been doing this kind of bit for enough years now that he makes it look easy. Stand on the stage with drinks lined up in easy reach, talk bollocks, ride the laughs, complain about the smoking ban, repeat until all and sundry are drunk.

Shortly after the above I feel asleep, so whatever other brilliant observations I might have written are lost to the ages. In fairness, it was pushing 4am by that time and the bottle on the desk was long since empty.