Tag Archives: armpit

Good afternoon! There we are, a nice, positive start to today’s bloggulations.

I’ve been a bit busy today, I was busy yesterday and have been busy in general these past few weeks, putting together what I hope will be my first novella length work (outside of fan-fiction, that is, where I’ve written far larger pieces) with the intention of having it published in the new year. Lately I have been working on a piece of genre fiction (stop groaning) featuring the undead (hey! Come back!) and a post-apocalyptic Britain (alright fine, go! I’ll be fine by myself!). For those of you who are still here, I hope to have this finished over the Christmas break (that includes a full edit and re-draft where necessary) and will post a thousand words or so for your general perusal once it has been proof read by non-biased eyes and adjusted accordingly.

Now I have to decide where to sell such a thing. There are many options open to me, with self publishing online being one of these, though I would much prefer to see it in print and on somebody’s shelf. I’m a bit old fashioned with my books and a big fan of must and well-bound pages over ebook readers, but a novella is a tricky beast in that it’s short and lends itself well to digital media. I think I’m leaning towards publishing it myself in some way, maintaining as much control of it as humanly possible, and then looking to include it as a rather lengthy prologue to the novel length follow-up which is due to be started in the summer.

The main purpose of today’s post is as a small introduction to what is to come, hopefully creating a little bit of interest in what I am doing and possibly even building a little enthusiasm for it. With this in mind, here is a small snippet of what I’ve been up to these last few weeks. There is a fair amount of swearing involved at certain stages but, to be fair, this is fairly in keeping with the setting and the situations in which the characters find themselves. I’ve always been somewhat confused by people’s tolerance of extreme violence juxtaposed with their intolerance of swearing and, as a parent, I would be far less angry with my sons if they had cursed in public as opposed to having thumped someone, yet movies and television programs will often include scenes of torture where the victim does not swear. Anyone who has ever stepped barefoot on LEGO or, worst of all, an upturned plug, knows how unrealistic that is, yet violence is everywhere and swearing seems to be a far greater taboo.

Funny old world, innit? Ladies and gentlemen (I say, optimistically assuming a readership where plurals are appropriate), I give you my work in progress.


‘We were just happy to be alive,’ Anders rumbled. ‘Made sense when we first got stitched, don’t think any of us were surprised that we were kept at arm’s length when we didn’t even know whose arms we had, but over time it seemed less and less fair. You lot remember how you felt when you looked down at yourself?’ We all nodded. “Well we had bigger problems than a bunch of snot-arsed business men, but we weren’t looking when the lines were drawn between us and them. This is just business and looking after our own, but this could be the start of something. Fuck, do you have any idea how serious what we are doing actually is?’

We did. We all did. Even Deacon fell silent while Anders spoke. The segregation between “us” and “them” had been a gradual thing, a rot that had crept in slowly until it permeated our entire culture, but now I wasn’t sure that it could ever change. We didn’t live in cages or behind fences, behind razor-wire walls or even in separate towns, but those of us who had known the Doctor’s hand seemed to naturally gravitate to the more lowly areas while the rest, the untouched, took the higher ground. It was an unspoken accord at first, an instinct to be close to our own kind, but over time it had taken on a more rigid, cultural element that made social mixing the most serious of taboos. They were disgusted by us while we resented them, and so the divide had widened. Though I knew that what we planned to do was wrong I knew that they would never allow us to ascend to their level.

Our only choice was to drag them down to ours.

And there we have it. The story features a group of undead (note, undead, not zombie) protagonists as they struggle to come to terms with the horrific realities of living forever, while everything that it ever meant to be human crumbles all around them. Sound good to you? Well I hope it does and I hope that you’ll follow my progress over the next few months, hopefully from first draft to publication in whatever form I choose.

Thank you for reading, please let me know if you have any thoughts on my email account, Inquisitorfiddlesticks@rocketmail.com