12 months, 12 Reviews: R.I.P Viola Winkle

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I struggled with rating R.I.P Viola Winkle. To begin with, it wasn’t quite I had expected from the blurb, but then again, some of the surprising elements were the pleasant kind of surprise. In theory, this is exactly my kind of book: Gothic vibes, mysterious curse, Irish folklore. There’s even a dog. And I LOVE dogs. 

Twelve Months, Twelve Reviews: Angels Before Man

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First things first. I really wanted to love this book. I tried. And I had to take two weeks to really think about exactly how to put all of this, and I still don't really know exactly what to say, but I'm going to attempt to make my thoughts and feelings on this at least semi-coherent.

Darling There Are Wolves in the Woods (and I can’t get enough of them): A Review

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★★★★★ A gripping, dark fairy-tale set in the frightening fey woods where danger lurks around every corner with an enticing smile. L.V. Russel' sharp and alluring description captures the wickedness of faeries and balances it on a knife-edge with their charm. Teya Jenkin's inner turmoil puts her in very real danger as she desperately seeks … Continue reading Darling There Are Wolves in the Woods (and I can’t get enough of them): A Review

Today’s offerings…

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So I haven't been very active recently. What with moving across the country for the new job, and then contracting Covid on week 4 of that job...but as an offer of appeasement here is a painting. I definitely need practice. But not too shabby for my first landscape in a long long time...and certainly the … Continue reading Today’s offerings…

Kingdom of Thorns by Katherine MacDonald

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Once again I am blown away! This Sleeping Beauty retelling is a whirlwind of witty banter, stunning scenery and gorgeous worldbuilding. Leo and Talia's adventures through a magical forest as dangerous as it is enchanting had me on the edge of my seat, and occasionally bed, kitchen counter, bath tub and the odd park bench … Continue reading Kingdom of Thorns by Katherine MacDonald

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Secret Society for Supernatural Ass-Kicking, Folkestone Division, or, F-SSSACK, for short (working title)

Martin has been running this place for the last fifty years; insists that the abandoned shopfront off the beaten track of the high street is the ideal locale – less snooping civilians. Or at least, that was the rationale. And well you could believe it. The filthy windows, crumbling windowsills and downright disturbing collection of … Continue reading Secret Society for Supernatural Ass-Kicking, Folkestone Division, or, F-SSSACK, for short (working title)

Elawyn (excerpt from a work in progress)

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Her vision swam in murky water. Stupid. Stupid, Stupid. The sigh had become ragged breaths. She had to take care of this, before the guard came looking for their missing patrol. “Do not let it control you,” her father’s voice said, through the thumping drum beat that filled her ears and the swamp water that … Continue reading Elawyn (excerpt from a work in progress)

A scene from my Work in Progress.

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So I discovered that drawing/painting is an excellent cure for writer's block. “Do you not remember me?”             The wjyrm opened one eye reluctantly. A hazy figure came into sharp focus as she drew closer, her face hidden beneath a hood. But he saw the fire inside, beneath the trappings of her frail form.             … Continue reading A scene from my Work in Progress.

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And still we resist

Something like despair had settled over me, muffled everything like a cold snow blanket reduced my flames to ember, taken up residence in my chest, thorny roots dug in and spread in this heart that once had beat with the rhythm of the picket line drum. But tonight, tonight those drums! tonight through the horror … Continue reading And still we resist

I watch the tide come in…

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Helplessly, gleefully, drawn to the sea, to where light dances on waves and comes tumbling ashore in a crash of white foam, to a place that is neither land, nor ocean. Perhaps my home isn't anywhere, but any in between, a place where fey live hidden in twilight a place for ghosts and memories. I … Continue reading I watch the tide come in…

A walk

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Against the wind, we walked along the boardwalk swerving, from other walkers and veering into pebbles, my dress a dancing ribbon orange against steel blue sky. We took the path beneath the bridge, you needed somewhere to sit, and wind was snatched from our ears, emerging into sudden silence we found a garden of agapanthus … Continue reading A walk

A View From The Sea

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Something atop the cliff black against the pale sun stumbles, rights itself, strides out toward the cliff edge on matchstick legs; stands, on a precipice for all the world looking like an oversized crow, a baby bird afraid to flex its wings, and turns its back on the sea becomes smaller, is gone. Looking up … Continue reading A View From The Sea

Her song is soft;

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her hands are a shock of cold that runsup my backI bite my lip, biting back the gaspas her icy touch climbs my spine and trickles down again I sink into hersink into the cold until the sting becomesa pleasant numbnessand I am almost warmthough the sun wanes behind a cloud and the breeze sends … Continue reading Her song is soft;

Socially Mobile

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I have been reading a lot about social mobility for a teacher-training related assignment, and I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be 'socially mobile' and what that looked like for myself growing up. I come from a working class family, grew up in social housing, fought tooth and nail for a place at the local grammar school and went to university to pursue my love of literature only to come home to unemployment and arguments with family over political differences. I have never forgotten where I came from, but I feel deeply a sense of loss of identity that cannot be mitigated by being ushered into the 'middle class' because of my decision to become a teacher which has left me no better off than my working class parents but with a very different perspective on life that often causes tensions with my loved ones. In education we talk a lot about motivating pupils, about social mobility, and aspirations, encouraging pupils to go to university because we take it to be an indisputable 'good'. But my reality has been that despite my love of learning and passion for my subject, I was unable to pursue the research and writing I loved because I did not have the financial backing to do so, because my family were not wealthy. And though I decided because of this to become a teacher instead, and find value and importance in the work, teaching is considered middle class while simultaneously being an incredibly poorly paid profession, and I often wonder whether I am truly helping pupils, or merely enforcing the status quo, by pushing pupils towards a social ladder that necessitates the 'failure' or, rather, undervaluing, of their peers, and more often than not, their family members. Anyway, I wrote a poem.

He left us in the spring

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And I thought, what was I doing, on that day? and remembered the half finished sketch dropped on the bed the paints out preemptively to catch the pink buds on the Tamarisk tree. All of it discarded, then, interrupted. I remember, the phone rang and an awful feeling in my gut as the quiet answered, … Continue reading He left us in the spring

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When I think of you

Granddad, you died of a broken heart long before you were ever truly gone and the years between then and sending you on your way were spent first, trying to bring you back we filled your home with love and laughter and in your ears it all rang hollow Your soul had departed moons ago … Continue reading When I think of you

At long last I can announce that a cover has been made, and The Forsaken Ones will be going live very soon!

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With the release of the paperback edition of The Forsaken Ones, I am looking for reviewers! I am happy to give free copies in exchange for honest reviews, just contact via the blog or twitter so I can start getting your copies ready.

Remains of spring

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The leaves on the tree have grown back in the kind of yellow green that suggests a readiness for autumn though to my mind, it is barely spring. Perhaps I saw them, for a moment, the pink blossoms but now their petals line the road like bloodied snow. From my window I watch petals dance … Continue reading Remains of spring

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An idiopathic shadow

I have been silent on my blog for a while now. Part of that was starting a new job, in a new town, as a trainee teacher. Another part, is my deteriorating health that makes every day a struggle without reprieve. I have been suffering idiopathic allergic reactions and anaphylaxis since I moved to start my new role, which on a number of occasions has left me on death's door, which has been, frankly, traumatising. I still work. I try to pretend that I am coping, but every time I get an itch, the anxiety sets in. Yesterday, I found out that after five months of waiting, and four anaphlactic episodes, my allergy clinic appointment was cancelled and the referral pulled from under me, with no communication from the clinic or my GP, and at this point, I don't know how to continue as I am. I am lucky that I have a partner, friends, and family who look out for me. But with austerity in the UK as it is, and NHS services being deliberately underfunded, myself and millions more people living with disabilities and life threatening conditions are living with this fear and anxiety and any support they had is pulled out from under them. This poem is really just my attempts to work through all the fear and frustration that has been building.

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Too Much Terminology

They saidthere's too much terminology these daystoo muchexpressionyour identityis too wordytooExclusive,they said. Our words should be their wordsor not exist at all. They offer understandingon conditionthat they can definethey offer inclusion through subsumptionconsumptioncome, climb into my mawwhere words do not matterin the darkbring a rainbow flag. I'll wear it for you,what more could you want?They … Continue reading Too Much Terminology

Teach First, the Happening

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So first of all, I need to apologise to everyone who has been kind enough to follow this blog, for having produced next to no content for a while. Next up comes a confessional which attempts to excuse my reticence. Yes, I pledged to keep writing, even when I thought that writing might be drivel. … Continue reading Teach First, the Happening

Newquay (1/2): Bootlegger’s Voyage

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We arrived in Newquay as the sun emerged from the clouds. Our mission: to find a skipper to take us out fishing. After contacting several, we finally found one who was willing to work that day. His boat: The Bootlegger. With the tide out we were able to take the short cut across the harbour. … Continue reading Newquay (1/2): Bootlegger’s Voyage

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The Cursed Book Release Trailer

When I first wrote my debut novel, I was still in school a sixth-former being pressured into undertaking extra-curricular activities, one of which was the arts award. Here follows the saga of not one, but three failures of technology that thwarted my attempts to achieve the silver award, in a feat which frankly, I begin … Continue reading The Cursed Book Release Trailer

Cover Art for a Second Edition

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So a few months back I mentioned that I was going to let The Forsaken Ones be. But last night, at around 3 am, I went on an editorial spree after thinking for a considerable amount of time in the dark, drunk on insomniac exhaustion, that I would like to write a prequel. And then … Continue reading Cover Art for a Second Edition

In the Dunes

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Each morning in the dunes began in a fine sea-salt mist, with the waves down at the beach calling me to the water's edge, and out... The walks atop the sand and grass were scratchy. Pointed blades nipped through fabric. But the sun shone through the morning haze, the wind filled my city-lungs with clean … Continue reading In the Dunes

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The Problem With Dead White Men: A Response to a Response

David Didau's simplistic rebuttal of Mary Bousted relies on a deliberately sustained ignorance of the formation of the canon and the history of women's and peoples of former colonies writing. This is especially disturbing as he is a public speaker influential amongst teachers and teacher training providers.

A Walk Around Tintagel

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Tintagel. One of my favourite spots in the world. I recently took a trip down to Cornwall. Anyone who's read my debut novel will know it is a place that holds deep meaning for me. So this blog has been quiet for a while. It has been a hectic time for this already very disorganised … Continue reading A Walk Around Tintagel

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The Leather Skirt

The leather skirt is sitting in the wash basket. It has no stains, not a mark that you could see. But its dirty. I washed it a few times before but it never really gets clean. I threw it in a bin once. But it came back. And I thought, I’ll give it another chance. … Continue reading The Leather Skirt

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Lilith’s Curse

My hopes they blossomed but never bloomed Hanging on Weighing down these branches As they swelled matured pendulous, parasitic, they rotted from the inside out but never fell, their weight bore down until these branches cracked. Hot fissures opened up my twisted life tree at the very core broken but growing on, its hands reaching … Continue reading Lilith’s Curse

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Introducing: Handsome Tyb

He cut through an alley between two equally loud taverns to avoid the crowds, and almost immediately tripped over something small and very dirty. Its matted fur was covered in mud and more besides. But rather than yowl as a disgruntled cat might, the creature gave a feeble mew and remained where it had been, … Continue reading Introducing: Handsome Tyb

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Re-imagining the Natural: Putting the World to Rights in the Fictional Ecotones of Cavendish, Lane, and Le Guin (Introduction)

A feminist reading of interconnected women's fantastic science-fiction utopias through the lens of Cavendish's Observations which traces the cross-temporal approaches to gendered knowledge production. Using Cixous’ ‘écriture feminine’ as a guide to identify common linguistic and formal tactics for the outmanoeuvring of masculine discourse, this work posits fantasy and science-fiction as ‘ecotones’ of past and future resistance to dominant hegemonic forces, asserting the importance of the imagination as a subversive means of ‘knowing’ the world.

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Women’s Knowledge, Magic, and the Patriarchy

So last week someone sent me this video, and frankly, if you haven't watched it, you should. I'm not just doing Philosophy Tube's promo for him here. The reason I am posting this video here is because it reminded me of an essay I had written at the beginning of my MA which I think … Continue reading Women’s Knowledge, Magic, and the Patriarchy

The Quiet Stillness of Empty Houses: A Gothic Romance Masterpiece

★★★★★ TWs: Death, SA/Violence (implied) If you enjoyed the Haunting of Bly Manor, or the works which inspired it, or are a fan of Charlotte Bronte, you will find your Gothic horror and romance thrills here. Rustling skirts and muddy footprints, and walls that refuse to speak even when their secrets cast heavy shadows make … Continue reading The Quiet Stillness of Empty Houses: A Gothic Romance Masterpiece

Twelve Months, Twelve Reviews

Back in December last year, I set myself the challenge of reading (and reviewing) twelve books from the stellar Twitter writing community. All of them either self-published or from small independent presses. Twelve books in a year may seem meagre—indeed, by the standards of the me from twenty years past, it is a poor show—but … Continue reading Twelve Months, Twelve Reviews

Twelve Months, Twelve Reviews: Ladybirds by R. Raeta

A gorgeous slow burn paranormal romance that I just didn't want to put down. When tragedy strikes, Sara's world is turned upside down and inside out, and the last thing she needs is a haunting. But an unusual exchange outside the hospital with an apparent Bedlam escapee leads to an inadvertent Faustian bargain, and Seth—ghost, … Continue reading Twelve Months, Twelve Reviews: Ladybirds by R. Raeta

The Trouble With Fairies: adventure abounds in this heart warming teen fantasy

I cannot recommend this enough to avid readers of teen fantasy and adventure, and perhaps some younger readers too. It may not have been entirely what I was expecting, but this story nevertheless has found a place in my heart. I will certainly be getting my hands on the rest of the series to follow the adventures of Demi and friends.