Halloween Sale!

What’s this? A sale? That’s right. For this years Halloween you can grab yourself (or someone else) a copy of ‘The Sword Summoner: History Repeats’ for only £5.00. That is including FREE post and package. You will not get it any cheaper than that short of hunting me down and getting a copy straight from my own two hands. Go on, treat yourselves.

Simply click on the PayPal button below and I’ll get your signed copy sent out to you as soon as possible. You have until Saturday to get your discounted copy. Don’t miss your chance.

(Ended)

Writing Update October 2014

This is a quick update just to let everyone know whereabouts I am with potential books. Since I’ve started back at university my pace has slowed a bit due to the workload but I am still making fair progress.

For those of you wondering about book two in ‘The Sword Summoner’ series, both it and book three have been written as a first draft but are in need of a lot of editing and changing. This is because I wrote all three back to back then went back to ‘History Repeats’ and basically re-wrote it so many of the story details in the sequels no longer match up. Continue reading

Video games as Writing Inspirations.

Back at the dawn of literature people who could write books could only draw inspiration from their own lives or from the verbal tales and folk lore that had been told to them. As writing became more prevalent, authors could draw more and more upon the work of others. It is as the famous phrase goes: “To write you have to read”. This was the status-quo for many years until the advent of the moving picture. With movies and television came a new way to tell stories. With these new, popular narrative devices, the audience to began to change. Things needed to happen and they needed to happen fast to keep people’s attention. Continue reading

Our Father

 

God. The Father, the Son and the bastard ghost

The mirage in the sweltered landscape of humanity

As true as anything in a false world

Of false people who wander through life

Like sheep to be flocked

Wish away our problems

Wish away our responsibilities

To dwell in the darkness of our minds

Lit by a flickering bulb of yellow

When the sun is just outside

Who are we to deny the Lord

We the animals grown beyond our bounds

We who are gods and madmen

Warped mirrors of ourselves

As we are warped mirrors of Him

And He is a warped mirror of us

All powerful in a powerless world

All seeing among the blind

All knowing to those bathed in ignorance

Never forever the one and only collective

Love is the sacred soul spread thin among us

Eternal like a legal contract wrought from toilet tissue

The Lord our savior

Our Creator

Our creation

Our damnation

Free will gifted as a catch twenty two

Excuses for abandonment

Blood and flesh is wine and bread

Artificial constructs created to appease our wants

Needs augmented to suit our tastes

A need for answers embodied by our minds

To fill our forms and child like search

For guidance from the wise infallible parents

We left behind to become who we are

He who burns cities, floods worlds

And requires the blood of children

This thing that we call Father

This king of men who died for our sins

Yet still we suffer and always sin

We hate like we love

With a passion burning from unnatural fires

Yet never do we stop to think

To think is to find thoughts that we fear

And fear is to realise we are but beasts

Beasts in the dressings of a civilised society

Under a civilised God pissing enlightenment

Like the Bible cursed rich who piss money to the poor

God’s chosen children orphaned

As their father is dragged drunk to the insane asylum

Babbling at the walls

Screaming for a mother never had

Lost in a sea of faith that none can know

Because who could know the unknown

The flows of life and death

That bind and separate us in chains of fate

Chains that we as humans make

To live, to die, to procreate

Beneath the eyes of Heaven

The eyes so misted by the time

Between each blink eternity

How could we comprehend it all

The vastness of the universe

And how could the universe possibly feel

Comprehension of an ant in space

An ant, a man, a race

A myth to our own imagination

An idea blowing in the wind

A cry to God and Allah and Buddha

And to Thor and Superman and Santa

And the ghosts who lurk in the peripheral vision

The visions of madness and glory and destiny

The ravings of the lost souls

Desperate for a hand to hold

Poem: The Thoughts of a Friend.

Running

Grass becomes fields becomes streets

Feet slow

Cars Cars Cars

Chase

Bound by neck but chase the same

Happiness

Smells fill the air

Acrid, sweet

Padding feet

Wolf down forgotten chip

See the catcatcatcatcat

Bark

Gone

Tail wags powered by joy

Home

Treats and a hand

Pat pat pat

Fuss fuss fuss

Wag wag wag

Bliss.

The pointlessness of my course.

So as some of you might know, I am in my third year of a Creative Writing course at university. I don’t much like it. To tell you all the reasons why would be an entire dissertation so for now I will simply say, it is all pointless.

Last week on a module called Experimental Writing (which sounds pretentious as hell) we spent two and a half hours studying a poem by Gertrude Stein called ‘A Completed Portrait of Picasso’ (Read it here: http://www.english.upenn.edu/~jenglish/Courses/Spring02/104/steinpicasso.html. If you can make it to the end without losing a shard of your mind then you are a better person than me. (Or are insane). I lost the will to continue at this point and longed for a strong drink to destroy even the memory of the poem. Continue reading

‘The Sword Summoner: History Repeats’ Chapter One.

Here is the first chapter of my book to give y’all a taster. It does get darker and more ‘Fantasy’ oriented, I swear. Enjoy.

000 000 000

1: An Average Day Gone Astray.

Birds scattered as the old morning bell began to toll, its deep echoes ringing throughout the ancient city of Pastrino. The noise was met by stirrings as the city below began to awaken and the people rose from slumber to begin their day’s work. All except one that is: Trey Sted. He was still fast asleep like he was most mornings.

People were amazed at how he could sleep through the morning bell because it could wake up everyone else in Pastrino, even those on the outskirts of the sprawling city. Ironically, his house stood in the shadow of the bell tower on the wide hill that marked the centre of the city. It left any who were that close to the tower with ringing ears when they chimed, but Trey never even stirred from his sleep.

“Trey, wake up! Trey, get out of bed!” his mother called from the doorway.

Trey did not move. His cheap woollen cover was wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon even though it was the middle of summer.

His mother called again. “Trey, get up now or you’ll be sorry.” Still he lay motionless. “I warned you, Trey.” Continue reading

A new challenger enters.

A module at university required us to create a website about our editing projects so I thought ‘What better than my own book?’

But I went above and beyond that simple ask. I acquired myself a badass domain name. No ‘.com’, ‘.co.uk’ or ‘.org’ for this guy. Nope. ‘.ninja’ all the way. Who wouldn’t want to click on a link ending in ‘.ninja’? Boring people, that’s who.

So what is this new site for when I already have a Twitter, a Facebook and a Website. Well this will be my central hub, my main professional presence where I can rant and rave to my hearts content and hopefully draw some others into the madness too. This should be your number one stop for any ‘Sword Summoner’ news.

So, tell me what you think. Until next time, peace.