Reading …

I once had many blogs, and one that I really wanted to do concentrated on my best and worst reading experiences. I think I managed 3 entries. The final post dealt with the first volume of a steam punk alternative universe trilogy, which I did not like, especially the way it dealt with the grandfather […]

Grappling annually

The interestingly named “The Grapple Annual” (Roy Slaven and HG Nelson come to mind) have announced their forthcoming publication, and the announcement includes that my short story, “The Penultimate Report of Sergeant Burns” is among the contents. (Perhaps that is the incentive I need to write some more, and blog some more. I am far […]

Wha’s a man t’ doo?

I am far from home. My many, many books are in cartons, denied to me, being placed in storage. I have been surviving upon Neal Stephenson’s Baroque Cycle, and I am in love with Duchess Eliza, not to mention Daniel Waterhouse, the Shaftoe Brothers, Enoch Root, the crew of the Minerva, and not to forget […]

“Avoiding Gagarin” published

Thank you to the kind folk at Aurealis magazine who have included my story, “Avoiding Gagarin”, in their latest edition. And they have included a cool art work as well. This has been a fun time for me. I had three stories accepted for publication in three different magazines at quite different times, however they […]

School camp

The school camp was held in another universe. The cabin was small but the huge moon pouring through the window swelled it with liquid light. I could not sleep with the drilling of mosquitoes. I could not sleep this far from home. I had to lie in the tedium, desperate for the hours to pass. […]

Aurealis

Aurealis has been promoting Australian speculative fiction and supporting Australian writers since 1990. Their latest endeavour is to seek to become a Science Fiction Writers of America qualifying market, one of the prerequisites for which is to pay writers 5 cents a word (soon to be 6 cents) for stories published in their magazine. In […]

School massacre

I had to have my dog put down before Christmas last year. There is no art in that, nothing but bathos. Orwell may have made something out of shooting an imaginary elephant, but there is no poetry or great message in the death of my cute little dog. I stayed with him as the vet […]