Posts tagged Fluff
Shadows, Psychos and Spiders

I’m trying to remind myself these days that horror is a many splendoured thing. In fiction, that is. I’m not watching the news, smiling a slow snake smile and muttering the word ‘beautiful’ to myself. I’ll leave that to the people pulling the politician’s strings. Surely there must be someone watching the blossoming groundswell of chaos reaching far across the world today and congratulating themselves. Before turning to Hitler’s living brain (now safely implanted inside the body of a gaunt, pale, asthmatic gorilla) and offering a deeply worshipful high five.

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Lost in the Required Reading

Sometimes, the universe speaks to you.  Or that’s how I choose to see it.  I suppose it’s just coincidence, really.  It’s either that or I’m deciding to pick up on the same, repeating cues to assemble my own, personal breadcrumb trail.  It’s a way of making sense of the noise.  Or using the noise to make sense of yourself.

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The Fluff Launch - What's a good word for Aftermath?

Either last week’s blog is incredibly late or this week’s blog is incredibly early.  I’ll leave it up to you to decide.  I’ve got other things to try and worry about.  Like, for example, where to begin?  Seriously, where do you start something like this?  Last Thursday, in a little pub near the ring roads of Birmingham, I got on a stage in front of friends and family and launched my second horror novel.  Which is not to say I threw a book at my friends at family.  Well, not physically anyway.

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Stuck on the Slow Train

Some weeks, you just can’t win.  It’s not right, it’s not fair.  They're the horrendous traffic jam when you're already late.  They're the one email or customer that is going to totally derail your plans to get through Monday unscathed.  The large, slow moving spider that appears as the shampoo starts to sting your eyes.  It’s basically some sort of event horizon conjured by statistics and chance.

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Here comes the Fluff

This is it, people.  This is not a drill.  The second novel is out.  Which is crazy.  I’ve managed to write another one.  Three decades on this planet, two novels published.  That’s not bad when you consider the whole first decade and some of the second was spent primarily being forced to learn things in various classrooms.  
   “So, where did this new novel come from,” I hear you ask.  “And what’s with the pink rabbit?”
   I guess it’s time I properly introduced you to Fluff.

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Dear 38

Dear 38 year old me,
   Hi, how’re you doing?  Well, I guess you’re resting right now.  If all things go to plan, then you’re due for a pretty big year ahead of you.  There’s the new book coming out, Fluff.  There’s another book to write.  You’ve got a massive new Avengers movie and the first female Doctor Who to look forward to as well.  I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish you luck and send on your way with a little advice.

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