tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21003553271877344412024-03-27T09:33:01.220+00:00In Search of PerditionPhil Sloman dark fiction authorPhil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-37604596162213407392024-01-11T17:34:00.004+00:002024-01-14T16:00:18.921+00:00Fourteen - a free short story<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: left;">Last year I had a great time at Chillercon hanging out with my horror mates. One evening, a few of us were hanging out in the hotel lobby chatting away having had a drink or three. I can't quite remember how but we started to play a game which has stuck with me to this day. Below is a fictional re-imagining of that game undertaken by different players. Enjoy!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, and other than that conversation with friends, please remember that <span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkp4st4-GvtcaFxo96_UcwTNw6Vh6fne_7JjtxYyg_ePjhUxBSpXaz060lmdGXJdcKE8aVZnQdRMngYgiPWj1fff6EPSKhtzepm2ZLx0bvsQcPpM5f_sDhneEvoNoYyW1eiv06DGuVzZXagudOO7JDkz2Da4ZeP2H-HkKeYRTunj-qDMhNUkKXbp0hoZDN/s1080/14.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="810" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkp4st4-GvtcaFxo96_UcwTNw6Vh6fne_7JjtxYyg_ePjhUxBSpXaz060lmdGXJdcKE8aVZnQdRMngYgiPWj1fff6EPSKhtzepm2ZLx0bvsQcPpM5f_sDhneEvoNoYyW1eiv06DGuVzZXagudOO7JDkz2Da4ZeP2H-HkKeYRTunj-qDMhNUkKXbp0hoZDN/w186-h248/14.jpg" width="186" /></a></div><br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Fourteen<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">by Phil Sloman<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Seaside rain is different to rain elsewhere in that it is almost
always unwanted. At the beach, the expectation is of sun-kissed sands covered
with happy bathers eager to buy overpriced ice-cream which drips down the sides
of cheap brown cones. All the while, gulls call raucously from above. When the
rains come none of that is possible – except the gulls –and the air of holiday
and eternal joy is banished.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">This was the case at Maudling-by-Sea where
rain streaked the grubby hotel windows. The hotel itself – we shall call it The
Grand though it is anything but – has stood in this spot for over a century,
dating back to Victorian times when people visited to take the air. There are 347
rooms in the hotel. There is nothing significant about this number unless you
happen to be a member of staff - especially if your job is to clean each room -
or if you are someone who collects such trivia for your own undoubtedly good
reasons. Nor is it a number you should bother to commit to memory in case you
think it will have bearing at a later point. It will not. Write it down, by all
means, or make a note to check back here at the end but it is simply a number
with no particular role. No, there is a much more significant number to come.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Now, the Mitchells were booked into
room 275. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">This, again, is not a number to
trouble yourself with. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The hotel advertises itself as a
family room. As such, there is a double bed alongside two single beds crammed
into a space slightly bigger than your average living room with the added
luxury of an adjoining bathroom replete with the feeblest of showers known to
man and a toilet which flushes intermittently and only with great patience on
the part of the user. All of this is tolerable when the sun is shining and when
the family can explore the limited delights of Maudling-by-Sea. But that isn’t
the case today. Today, with the arrival of the rain, they have decamped to the
bar before one of them kills the other.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Settled downstairs in the bar, Beth looks
up from her phone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“What are you doing, girls?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Counting,” says Mary. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Counting?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes, counting.” It is Lucy who replies
this time. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Whatever for?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Just because,” say the twins in
unison.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Just because?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes, just because.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Beth decides to leave things be. Karl
has left them in the hotel bar so he can get some “fresh air” which we all know
means he might be anything from five minutes to half an hour depending on just
how many cigarettes he smokes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Three!” squeals Lucy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Three what?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Just three.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Beth rolls her eyes and goes back to
her phone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">This is far from the holiday she had
hoped for. But then that is Beth’s lot in life. Moments of joy between long
bouts of disappointment and weariness. Maudling-by-Sea has done nothing to
change that. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">On her phone are pictures of friends
enjoying beach holidays where the sun shines down with extreme gusto. They are
sitting on sun loungers holding hollowed out pineapples filled with a
combination of spirits, cocktail umbrellas and straws. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Having the time of my life!”,
“Life’s a beach!!!” and similar phrases caption each image. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Beth reflexively taps a thumb to the
screen and gives each one a heart symbol without really meaning it before
scrolling to the next image and then the next. That could have been them in the
sun by the pool getting shit-faced if Karl had remembered to renew the
passports in time. Like he said he would. Like he promised. But that was Karl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Four!” exclaims Mary. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Beth ignores the girls and continues
to scroll through her feed with levels of jealousy rising. Frustrated, she
looks around the room which mirrors the greyness outside.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">An anaemic thirty-something stands
behind the bar, wiping down the counter with a dirty wet rag, their eyes shaded
and sunken from lack of sleep coupled with an inevitable shattering of
expectations earlier in life which will always haunt them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">In the far corner sit an elderly man
and his wife on a faux-leather couch, both wearing matching raincoats despite
not having been outside today. A pint of beer and a glass of wine rest on the
table in front of them. Drinks they bought an hour ago which they have been
nursing ever since. Beth is confident they haven’t said a word to each other the
whole time they have been sitting there.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">A television screen flickers in the
corner, the weather interfering with the reception in spite of the reassurances
the satellite company had given the landlord, the image distorting momentarily
then resetting. Beth makes out horses bunched together with jockeys on their
backs, whips cracking as the jockeys spur their mounts onwards to the finishing
line. Closer and closer they get. It’s going to be neck and neck to the line. A
man is standing up in the bar fixated on the screen, holding a copy of The
Racing Post all screwed up in a tight roll. He forgets himself and brings the
paper down against his own right buttock in mimicry of the jockeys and their
whips, urging on the favourite, pound signs growing in front of his eyes, the
horses about to reach the finishing post.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">A roar of frustration as the
television flickers off, he throws his paper to the floor, stepping forward to
hit the television with an unflinching hand in an effort to coax it back to
life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Five, six, seven!” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The girls are focused intently on the
entrance to the bar. A mother and her two sons have entered. Beth gives the
mother a knowing look then returns to her phone. The mother and sons settle at
the far side of the bar in a vacant booth, picking up sticky menus to see what
culinary delights the hotel has to offer them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">On Beth’s screen is a video of a cat
playing with a ball of wool. She smiles then flicks to the next one, and the
next one, and the next… <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Eight!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“For the love of God, what the hell
are you girls doing?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Counting.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes, I know that. But what? What the
hell are you counting?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">She sees the girls exchange uncertain
glances; their smiles flattened. Beth doesn’t mean to lose her temper like that.
It simply happens. She’s just tired. Oh so fucking tired. She wants to relax. To
have time to herself. Like Karl. Karl who always seems able to nip out for a
cigarette, or just needs to go and do this or that, who always gets to have
time with his friends whenever he wants.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Sorry,” she says, deflated, “what is
it you are counting?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“The people,” says Lucy. “The people
who come through the door.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Oh.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes,” says Mary, “we’re waiting to
get to number fourteen.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Why, what happens with number fourteen?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“They die,” says Lucy, the weight of
the words lost within a child’s nonchalance. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“That’s a horrible thing to say, Lucy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Lucy rolls her eyes. “It’s just a
game, Mummy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Nine, ten,” pipes up Mary, perhaps
too eagerly, as two hotel staff walk into the bar carrying boxes of crisps to
the barman.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Lucy grips Mary’s arm tightly in
anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">A figure walks past Beth, a blur in
the periphery of her vision. She recognises him as the gambler when he reaches
the door then exits. “Eleven,” she mouths unexpectedly. She places her phone
face down on the table.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“How do they die?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“They just die,” says Lucy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Perhaps they explode,” says Mary,
gleeful at the thought.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“No,” Lucy’s tone is stern, a voice
of authority. “They just die, like a ragdoll falling to the floor.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Oh,” say Mary and Beth as one.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Twelve, thirteen.” Lucy taps the
table as she counts reels off the numbers, like a metronome, watching the hotel
staff leaving now their delivery has been completed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Does that count?” asks Beth, wide-eyed.
“They’ve been through already. Does it count?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The girls don’t answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">In the corner, the old couple are
stirring from their seats. He is holding their now empty glasses ready to take
to the bar. She is picking up her bag and clamping it under her arm.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Beth can feel her heart racing. She doesn’t
mean it to, after all this is simply a child’s game invited by the twins. Two
bored eight-year-olds with nothing better to do with their time. But what if it
isn’t? What then? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">In the distance she sees Karl in the
hotel lobby and holds her breath. If she were closer, she would smell the ciggies
on his hair and clothes. He’ll go to kiss her later and there will be the taste
of spearmint chewing gum with a hint of ashtray tinged with disappointment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The elderly couple are at the bar
now. The man has placed their glasses on the countertop. He is asking the
barman something Beth cannot hear. Perhaps something about the local area. Or
maybe where they can find the toilets. Either way, the barman replies and
points to the door and the lobby beyond.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">In the lobby, Karl is halfway across its
chequered floor, barely twenty steps from the bar’s entrance. There is a wet
trail behind him on the black and white tiles where he has traipsed rainwater
inside.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The couple are walking slowly to the
door, arm in arm, very much in love even after all these years. Beth is looking
to the couple, then to Karl, then back to the couple, calculating who will make
it through the door first. Calculating exactly what it could mean. What it
could mean for her. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Karl, come quick,” shouts Beth
standing up, planting her arms squarely as she leans upon the table, not caring
what anyone else in the bar thinks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“What?” shouts back Karl, stopping.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">And still the old couple creep
forward.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Are you sure it’s fourteen?” Beth
asks the girls. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">They nod, their faces uncertain,
trapped within a game they no longer want to play.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“I said come here quick, Karl. I’ve
something to show you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Look, just give me a sec. I can’t
hear you, right.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">He starts walking.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The couple are inches from the door
now. Even if Karl were to run he’ll not make it before them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Beth can only let the game play
through now. She slumps down into her chair.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Excuse me, mate.” It’s the barman. Signalling
to the old man. Holding up a hat. “This yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The old man places a hand to his
head, feeling the bare withered skin. He sighs, heading back to the barman, his
wife moving with him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“S’alright, mate. Wait there. I’ll
bring it over.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Revised calculations spark within
Beth’s mind. What if the girls missed someone earlier? The hotel staff went through
twice, once each way. Did they count as two or four?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The barman is handing the hat over. Time
is running out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Karl!” yells Beth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Daddy, don’t,” scream the girls in
unison.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Hold your horses, all of you!”
shouts Karl. And he’s moving now, driven by an inner force, white tile, black
tile, white tile, black tile, step after step after…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“Fourteen” whisper the girls as Karl passes
through the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 42.55pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">END</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 42.55pt;">Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed Fourteen then please do consider checking out my latest collection No Happily Ever After: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Happily-Ever-After-Phil-Sloman-ebook/dp/B0BZZFY8DL">No Happily Ever After eBook : Sloman, Phil: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store</a></p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-66036966426040054602023-09-10T11:05:00.006+01:002023-09-10T11:05:54.377+01:00FantasyCon 2023<p> FantasyCon is an annual highlight for me. It's a chance for me to catch up with writing buddies, buy books, and generally immerse myself in the UK horror writing scene. My creative juices always feel recharged afterwards even if my bank balance is lighter and my need for sleep increased ten-fold!</p><p>This year, FantasyCon is being held in Birmingham at the Leonardo Royal Hotel from 15 to 17 September. I'm delighted to be sharing a panel on the Saturday afternoon at 3pm with Kat Day (Moderator), Ramsey Campbell, Philip Fracassi, and Raven Dane. The panel is called Writing 21st Century Horror and the blurb says "What are the new techniques and innovations in Horror? Is there a new scare? How does the tradition of horror writing help us develop new stories and new ideas? Join our panel to discuss and pick up some reading recommendations."</p><p>I also have a reading slot at 5pm on the Saturday alongside Trip Galey and Ruth EJ Booth. Hopefully I'll see a few folks there.</p><p>If you're at FantasyCon this year, do come say hi. I'll also be bringing some copies of No Happily Ever After with me for anyone who wants to purchase one.</p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-28432829286191804222023-04-30T12:15:00.000+01:002023-04-30T12:15:07.497+01:00No Happily Ever After: first review!<p><span style="font-size: medium;">There's always a nervy period as a writer when you put your work out there. The doubts creep in. Is it good enough? Will people like it? <br /><br />Well, the first review is in ahead of the official launch date for No Happily Ever After on Friday 26 May. Absolutely delighted with it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1e1915; font-family: "Proxima Nova", Montserrat, Arial, sans-serif;">Phil Sloman has put together a truly wonderful collection here. Proper effortless storytelling with a genuine heart to create something different."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Full review here: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/141301186-no-happily-ever-after#CommunityReviews">No Happily Ever After by Phil Sloman | Goodreads</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Definitely a nice addition to a great weekend.</span></p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-38690198084481513462023-03-26T11:46:00.001+01:002023-03-26T11:46:23.541+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><h1 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No Happily Ever After cover reveal</h1><div><span style="font-size: medium;">After a hiatus from writing, I decided I really should get back into the saddle and get some words out there. Over the past few months I have been pulling together a few of my short stories and writing a couple of new ones. All these will be part of a short collection of stories which I will be releasing in May 2023 under the title No Happily Ever After.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In anticipation, here is a sneak look at the fabulous cover using art by Warm_Tail.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh61VbsRW21OuMnOLdnv_x-kmJ7JFN5J5qN7lbIFVWFNzL5QFqGBm_jn-Futno-RAtl2PNPzAXuRWljjnU07xcrh3y7wzYF4lnIk9bREjgoBer_w4afMGlO0S4XA0vjIBm4P8uV0hwi1N1ZM7H3gq1yTb3kHiOTIQAI4IO3yMghf9XxUfzd3CD223gkw/s1487/No%20Happily%20Ever%20After%20ebook%20cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1487" data-original-width="1005" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh61VbsRW21OuMnOLdnv_x-kmJ7JFN5J5qN7lbIFVWFNzL5QFqGBm_jn-Futno-RAtl2PNPzAXuRWljjnU07xcrh3y7wzYF4lnIk9bREjgoBer_w4afMGlO0S4XA0vjIBm4P8uV0hwi1N1ZM7H3gq1yTb3kHiOTIQAI4IO3yMghf9XxUfzd3CD223gkw/s320/No%20Happily%20Ever%20After%20ebook%20cover.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><br /> <p></p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-6433665982912640412022-01-19T13:31:00.001+00:002022-01-19T13:33:53.119+00:00The Man Who Fed The Foxes: free to read<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I got older today. As a little gift to folks, below is my short story The Man Who Fed The Foxes for your enjoyment which can be found in my collection <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07NSB668N/" target="_blank">Broken on the Inside</a> or <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Broken-Inside-Black-Shuck-Shadows/dp/1913038114" target="_blank">here if you are in the US</a>.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9x-qRhtpz8uodZvx0RR6zEn_60GrxYXTa3zhN8vaJrydap7a7s2PEgBGByy89L6-zBhiJG2nPEja9f34D1Anxd2o-BUYaSyQ1BvWACpSZR0duApt8QH0NRawHFOcfjClxw-5f0-zII6W3RF0j1YjG3kYhrF0l605TBvqx1H_KaTKyphxdNCrCcMuzKQ=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9x-qRhtpz8uodZvx0RR6zEn_60GrxYXTa3zhN8vaJrydap7a7s2PEgBGByy89L6-zBhiJG2nPEja9f34D1Anxd2o-BUYaSyQ1BvWACpSZR0duApt8QH0NRawHFOcfjClxw-5f0-zII6W3RF0j1YjG3kYhrF0l605TBvqx1H_KaTKyphxdNCrCcMuzKQ=s320" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><h1 align="center" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The man who fed the
foxes<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></h1>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">by Phil Sloman<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul Wilson sat alert on the
decking, peering into the gloom. Even if the sun had been high in the sky
rather than cresting the horizon, as it currently was, there wouldn’t be much
to see. An overgrown garden in need of an industrial lawnmower and a team of
willing volunteers. At the end stood a broken greenhouse, barely five years old
yet virtually forgotten, the glass fractured and smeared the colour of pond
scum by a colony of algae. A couple of abandoned compost bins nestled beside
it, like giant salt and pepper shakers, overflowing and surrounded by flowering
weeds. His borders, which had been so immaculate in a former life, flourishing
with begonias, tulips and carefully cultivated roses, were now clogged with bindweed,
nettles and dandelions. His lawn had once been his pride and joy, manicured to
the millimetre, but that was in the past when his friends used to joke you
could have played crown green bowls on it. Not that his friends visited any
more. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul was
a mimicry of his garden; shabby, unkempt, in need of attention. A scarecrow man,
broken and forgotten. His shirt, stained with last night’s dinner, was fraying
at the seams, struggling to contain his middle aged spread, his jeans more
holes than fabric, the denim pale and faded. His hair used to be a uniform
short back and sides but now hung lankly in a mix of browns and greys against
his shoulders, blending with his beard which claimed home to the yellowed,
crusted yolk from that morning’s fried egg sandwich.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not that
any of it mattered much in the great scheme of things. If nature wanted to
claim his garden then let her, it had been hers to begin with anyway. And as
for his friends. Well, if they didn’t want him then he certainly didn’t want
them and that suited him fine. Just fine. He had other things to occupy his
time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul dragged
his blanket closer, warding off the chill as the summer air cooled around him,
the tartan pattern ruffling as he struggled to get comfortable. Cheap plastic
creaked and cracked in protest, the chair complaining beneath his weight, but
it held, ready to see out another night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On the
lawn, less than ten feet away, a haze of flies were squabbling around the meat.
They did so most nights. He always placed it there, never nearer, never
further, carefully positioned as to be far enough from the decking but close
enough to give him a clear view. The cloud of insects performed a little dance;
fly, land, suck and twirl, fly, land, suck and twirl, repeated like a miniature
troop of Morris men performing for the crowds. Except there was only Paul who
watched on, struggling to keep track of their flights in the worsening light. The
offering wasn’t for them but it didn’t matter. There was plenty more meat to be
had.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Next to
the meat was a bowl of milk, curdled in the heat of the day, a viscous skin
crusting its surface. The letters D O G were embossed on the brown glazed ceramic,
though it had been years since they had owned any pets. The bowl had belonged
to Shandy, a canine substitute for the children they never had, not that they
would have ever admitted such a thing to themselves. Shandy had been gone for
nearly a decade - they never said dead, always gone - and Paul couldn’t bring
himself to get a replacement. It seemed such a callous act of betrayal. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">She</i> had asked Paul a hundred times to
throw the bowl out and threatened on more than one occasion to do it herself. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">She</i> had said that about a lot of things
but he always ignored her, always loathe to throw anything away, a hoarder then
and a hoarder still, but the one thing he hadn’t been able to keep hold of was
her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So now
he sat here alone of an evening, every evening, watching and waiting for the
foxes to come. But none came that night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The last
‘friend’ to visit was Rachel Gladstone, all full of concern and nosiness. That
had been six months ago, long before the foxes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ding
dong. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
jumped, it had been so long since anyone had rung his doorbell. Paul waited.
Whoever it was might go away. He was comfortably cocooned in his living room, nursing
a glass of cheap rioja, soothing the world away. He had sat in the exact same
way for several weeks now, huddled into his armchair for hours on end. There
was routine to his life, a routine he liked. Get up, wash (optional), throw on
some clothes and face the trials and tribulations of the day all delivered
through his television set. Now and again he might be as bold as to attempt a
jigsaw. Something classic depicting battles from the Napoleonic era, officers
in blood stained uniforms barking out orders whilst grand explosions ballooned
in the background. He enjoyed the banality of it all. The simplicity. There
were no grey areas, no ambiguity. Either the piece fitted or it did not. And
when the last piece was down he could settle back with his wine for company. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ding
dong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sit and
wait them out. There was his answer. No one could be that concerned about him. Probably
one of those Jehovah’s come to spread the good word. There had been enough good
words from friends in the past months; not one of them changed anything, not
one of them stopped the tears from soaking his pillow every night. He took
another sip of wine, enjoying the numbing feeling creeping across his forehead.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw something twitch. A silhouette at the
window.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bugger.
He should have hidden. Perhaps slunk behind the sofa out of sight. Maybe they
hadn’t seen him. It was dark in here and they could mistake him for a pile of
dirty laundry abandoned for later.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tap,
tap, tap.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
sound of knuckles rapping against his windowpanes. And waving. There was waving
now, definitely in his direction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Paul,
Paul, yoo-hoo, it’s Rachel.” The words were muffled as they came through the
glass, like someone shouting through a towel. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
inwardly shuddered. Rachel. Rachel Gladstone. Rachel bloody Gladstone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A local
snoop with nothing better in her life than to live through the lives of others.
She reminded him of a parasite, a bloated leech which kept sucking and sucking
until it eventually fell off. But she never did. This was the third time she
had visited since Amelia had gone. He knew from past experience he would have
to let her in. The tenacious bloody leech.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“My God,
you look terrible.” Those were the first words from her mouth as he opened the
door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rachel
bloody Gladstone. As delicate as ever. He was inclined to slam the door in her puffy
little face right there and then but he knew it would cause more aggravation in
the long run. Get more people poking their nose in where it wasn’t wanted. He
smiled sweetly and stood aside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“How
lovely to see you, Rachel,” (lie), “Won’t you come in?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
didn’t wait for a second invitation, shoving her way past him, her sensible
shoes trailing mud across the threshold from the soil beneath his front window.
In her hand was a hessian bag, the word Waitrose emblazoned on the side to show
the world what a good person she was, one who thought about the environment by
not needlessly wasting plastic carriers. It sagged in the middle like its
owner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Now, I
hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought you some…..oh.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul
knew what had stopped her mid-sentence, he could smell the snobbery wafting off
her in waves. He could hear the sound of the cogs whirring in her elitist skull
full of its airs and graces, judging the disarray which was his house. He shut
the door and followed her into the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Some
what, Rachel?” He kept his tone flat, not caring what she had brought with her.
He wanted her in and out, and anything which sped that up was fine by him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Some,
um,” she stepped over a pair of discarded pizza boxes and shuffled towards the
armchair. That had been Amelia’s chair when she lived here. It wasn’t anymore.
Now it housed a mountain of circulars, fallen through the letterbox and dumped
there unopened, a nest of false promises to improve one’s life. One day Paul
would get around to throwing them away. One day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Some…?”
ventured Paul. He picked up his abandoned wine glass and filled it, disinclined
to offer Rachel any.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Some
dinner.” She dipped into her bag, flourishing a Tupperware container filled
with something which resembled a casserole or stew. Her gaze fell back to the
pizza boxes. “Though I see you seem to be looking after yourself…,” she sucked
at her teeth, searching for the right word, “…admirably.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That
wrinkle of the nose as she finished her sentence. He had forgotten about the
wrinkle. God, how he hated the wrinkle. Paul sipped his wine, draining a third
of the glass before it left his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Thank
you, very kind. If you could leave it on the side.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Paul?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh God, she’s perching. She’s actually
bloody perching.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Tupperware disappeared back into the bag as she cleared a space on the arm of
the sofa, sending an avalanche of junk mail crashing to the floor. She ignored
this and carried on; after all, it wasn’t as if she was making the place
anymore untidy then it already was.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul
took another swig of his wine and topped up his glass.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Paul,
I’m worried about you. You haven’t been the same since, um, you know, since Amelia.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How would you bloody well know what I was
like in the first place? Stupid woman.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
simply stared.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“And,
well, I said to myself, Rachel I said, you need to go round there and let that poor
man know he’s not alone. Show him he has someone to talk to.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Someone to leech off him, you mean.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Another
sip. Just a small one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“So, Paul,
how long has it been since, since….Amelia and him?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There it
was. There was the rub. This was the blood money she wanted for her homemade
casserole. To hear about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him. Her. Them.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I’d
rather not talk about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">Him</span></i><span style="line-height: 200%;"> had been his one-time best friend,
or so he had thought at the time. Rhys Davis. God, he wished to this day he had
never set eyes on him. Paul had met Rhys at The Griffin’s pub quiz. Rhys, new
to the area, had sauntered over, asking if he could join Paul and Amelia at
their table.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Room
for one more?” was how he had phrased it with his oh so easy-going Welsh tones.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul
hadn’t been keen but Amelia had insisted. To Paul’s surprise they had hit it
off, especially when Rhys got the round in, and before long Rhys became a
regular feature round their house, popping round to help with the DIY and Paul
would return the favour, helping Rhys with his garden.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amelia
had welcomed the new friendship, saying it was good to see Paul smiling again.
Things were good. Amelia was more ‘friendly’ than she had been in years, she
had even stopped nagging him about his ‘ways’ as she called them, the hoarding
and the clutter; unfinished puzzles covering any vacant surface in the house. Things
were good indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul had
come home early one evening. He had been at the garden centre for more
fertiliser to feed the tomatoes in the greenhouse. Last year’s batch had been a
poor show and he was determined to give the current crop a fighting chance. He
had caught Rhys and Amelia <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">en flagrante</i>;
that was the term the foreigners used, wasn’t it. His best friend and his wife
of thirty years playing ‘hide the proverbial sausage’ in their marital bed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There
had been words, plenty of words, though he couldn’t remember many of them. He
had blacked out from the stress. He had always been bad at confrontations. Even
as a child he would shy away from arguments, quick to anger and quick to flee, running
away to hide in the corner until the red mist cleared and the bad words faded
into the ether. When he came to with dried tears tracks streaked across his
cheeks, there was no sign of the pair of them and Amelia’s clothes were gone.
For the first few days he stayed at home, waiting patiently for Amelia to tell
him she had made a mistake, for her to settle her slight frame down on the sofa
and beg for his forgiveness (and he knew he would give it). He busied himself
with the garden, potting on his tomatoes, keeping the lawn trim, even tidying
away the clutter ready for her return. But she never came back. He tried
phoning her mobile with no success. Always to voicemail. Then one day he
received a text out of the blue saying to forget about her and that was that.
Nothing more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As word
spread across the neighbourhood, he realised he had been the last to know about
the affair. Those friends of his who dared to show their faces all used phrases
like ‘I half suspected as much,’ or ‘it was inevitable in the end, really.’ So
he hid away like he had in his childhood. Giving up on his garden and his
friends. And no one came to visit him anymore, which he liked. Until today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I think
you should, Paul. I think you should talk about it. It will be helpful, don’t
you think?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“No. No
I don’t think it would.” He surprised himself by speaking out loud. If Rachel
heard the anger in his words she ignored it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Paul,” she
murmured, that tone of mock concern stretched over two syllables. The sofa arm
creaked as she rose, reaching over to put her arm on his wrist, the touch of a
leech sensing sustenance. “Paul, sit down and let’s talk about things.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
flinched, flinging her arm away from him, sending an arc of Rioja flying across
the room. Deep red seeped into the carpet, flourishing like the bastard child
of Rorschach’s nightmares. Its twin was spawning over Rachel’s outfit,
blossoming in her pastel ensemble.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Now
look what you’ve made me do,” he mumbled, turning from her anger. He grabbed for
the bottle, desperate to refill his glass and find some small grain of solace
from what was left of his afternoon. If he didn’t look at her perhaps she would
leave.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What
the hell do you think you’re doing!” There it was. The veneer dropped, no more
sympathy and concern; the monster revealed. He imagined Rachel’s face twisting
in rage as she spouted behind him, the eyes scrunching into wrinkle encircled
raisins, exaggerating her crow’s feet. He could hear her lipstick fracture as
her lips thinned, the sound of a crème Brule’s crust cracking. He could imagine
flakes of red Estee Lauder Pure Colour falling on to her collar mixed with
spittle and rage.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The bottle
felt comforting, the familiar feel of the thin neck in his hand, grabbed
perhaps a little more tightly than normal. His glass, where was his glass?
Dropped when she had touched him. Look for the glass, not at her, keep your
eyes on the floor, away from the leech. Oh for some salt!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I said,
what the hell do you think you’re doing!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A hand
on his shoulder. Oh God, why did she have to put a hand on his shoulder? Surely
she knew he didn’t want to be touched. Wasn’t that clear? He tensed up. His
muscles tightened. His jaw pulsing as his teeth gritted. He gripped the bottle
a little tighter still, his knuckles whitening as he spun to face the seething
harridan.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her face
was as he imagined, all bile and hate, yet still the countenance of a victim as
if it wasn’t her who had come to his house unbidden, nosing into his business.
He knew there were going to be more words. Words he didn’t want to hear. He
would do anything not to hear those words. He shifted his weight, readying
himself for the onslaught.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And that
was when the blackness took him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When he
came to, he was alone, face down like a murder victim in the centre of his wine
stained carpet, the empty bottle lying by his side. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No one visited him again. Or no
one human. He had become <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">persona non
grata</i> which suited him fine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
couldn’t remember exactly when the foxes started visiting or when he started to
feed them for that matter. He was no stranger to the foxes, or their nocturnal
sounds to be more precise, listening to their lust filled exertions, screeching
like fire branded owls as they rutted into the small hours of the night. From
time to time he would see a snout poking from the tangle of weeds, sniffing the
air, slinking away as soon as they caught his scent. It was like that for
months, an occasional sighting followed by a flash of orange and white before
the tail disappeared from view. The last thing he expected was for one to brazenly
present itself to him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It had
been another night spent in the embrace of his good friend Jack Daniels,
waiting for the booze to drag him off to Never Neverland, or whatever place
would have him; he was far too old to be a Lost Boy anymore. Caught halfway
between sleep and consciousness, he half fancied he saw a flickering of
activity in the long grass around his compost bins. Not that they had seen any
use in the days since <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">then</i>. It had
been his plan to make his own compost to feed his soon to be prize winning
tomatoes; trips to buy fertiliser only carried bitter memories for him. But the
plan never grew much beyond conception leaving the bins to stand as further
testament to his failures in life as his tomatoes withered and died. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
movement flickered again, more definite this time, a parting of the grasses and
nettles between the bins. It was the snout he saw first, a red furred cone sporting
a shock of white on the underside and tipped with a shiny black button. His
initial inclination had been to throw his empty bottle of Jack in its general
direction. On a rarer, soberer night he might have made the effort. Maybe. But
tonight was a familiar one where the ‘buzz’ had claimed him, easing him into
the role of witness rather than participant.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Eyes,
ears and a neck came next followed by a mangy body, the fur matted in patches against
the thin frame, blackened in spots with faeces. Two more heads emerged from
either side, squeezing into the space between the composters; Cerberus reborn.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul
watched impotently as the trio stalked forth, leaving a trail of flattened
grass in their wake. They paused momentarily amongst the sprawl of grasses,
sniffing at a handful of pizza crusts he had thrown out for the birds into the
centre of his lawn. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">‘Scavengers</span></i><span style="line-height: 200%;">,’
thought Paul, sighing internally ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">blooming
scavengers. At least you’re more honest than some. Well, come take what you
want, you’re welcome to whatever you can find.</i>’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They
ignored the off-casts, slinking onwards towards Paul. And then they stopped, dropping
their rears and sitting upright. Three narrow heads staring back at him from
barely six feet away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For a
while that was all they did. Sitting and staring, man and foxes, waiting as the
moon rose higher. And then the world changed for Paul forever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We know
what happened.” It was the middle fox who spoke first, the mange-ridden cur,
not that the other two looked any healthier. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul
stared at them, mouth open, waiting for his brain to catch up with the scene.
Surely someone would remind him of his lines any time now. The bottle of Jack
dropped from his hand, shattering against the floor, a sticky sea of molasses
weeping across the patio, bleeding into the cracks, but he didn’t care. There
was only one thing in his world right now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We want
to help. We can bring her back,” said the one on the left.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Who?”
The word was stuttered, almost scared to be spoken in case the illusion were flung
aside to reveal the Great Oz behind the curtain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Your
bitch. The one you lost.” The right one now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“You,
you can’t. S-s-she left me…she’s gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We
know.” Mangy turned to its brethren. Paul couldn’t tell if it was for
reassurance or validation. “We will bring her back.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“She’s
gone,” Paul repeated, his voice close to cracking as he fought the madness
seeping into his mind, trying to cling to the one thing he knew for certain.
“She’s, she’s gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We will
bring her back,” they said as a trio, yipping in unison.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And with
that they were gone, turning with a flourish, leaving Paul to watch them weave
their way beyond the greenhouse and out into the bushes framing the end of his
garden. A final flash of white fur and then they were out of sight.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Clouds
trailed lazily across the face of the moon as Paul tried to reconcile what had
happened. It was the booze, it had to be the booze. Or a mental breakdown. He
had been told it was possible after the experience he had been through. Those
were the most plausible explanations. A good night’s sleep and things would be
clearer in the morning. Hell, he might be asleep now. He pinched two ragged
fingernails into his forearm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Shit,”
said Paul to no one in particular, shaking the pain out of his arm, looking at
the white crescents forming there. “Not asleep then.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
chair groaned under his weight as he pushed himself out, ready to begin the
trudge up to bed. He would clean up the broken bottle in the morning and get a
‘fresh’ one from his supply under the stairs. It was only as he was rising he
noticed the gleam in the grass.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul lurched
from his chair, a mixture of alcohol and tiredness, shambling his underwhelming
physique across the patio as his blanket fell away. He let his legs guide him,
only to fall down into the grass where the foxes had spoken. This was where he
had seen it. A small rectangular trinket lying amongst the flattened stems, no
bigger than a man’s palm, catching the broken beams of the full moon. Kneeling,
he reached out, his hand trembling as his fingers curled around Amelia’s phone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The foxes became regular, though
unpredictable, visitors over the following months. One week they would come
every day, other times Paul would sit outside, waiting for them, come rain or
shine, only to be disappointed when they failed to appear. He was fairly sure
they had built themselves an earth at the back of his garden, beyond the slanting
shadow of the greenhouse. It was tempting to go exploring, to have a poke
around in amongst the weeds to find their bolt hole except they had an unspoken
agreement. A gentleman fox’s agreement as it were. The patio and the house
behind it were his, the garden theirs. He provided them with food, good food,
not scraps, and they provided Amelia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When not
waiting on the patio, he would occupy himself inside. He had a new hobby. A
twist on an old favourite. He was building a jigsaw. A life-sized one in his
living room. A two hundred and six piece construction. This one didn’t come in
a box, or not one he was aware of. And the only picture he had to go from was stashed
in the attic with his wedding photos. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So the
foxes brought Paul his pieces. Sometimes the pieces were large, other times
they were of such a size that Paul had to feel his way amongst the grass with
his fingertips to find their offering.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If, in
his more sober hours, he had broken his gentleman’s agreement he would have
found the box, or rather boxes, the pieces came in, two flat topped pyramids at
the end of his garden which some might say resembled salt and pepper shakers, bought
to provide food for his precious tomatoes. But he didn’t and he flourished in
his ignorance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And if
his neighbours were ever so inclined as to glance across in the dead of the
night they might see a blanketed man crawling on all fours across his lawn. The
Rachel Gladstones of this world might have seen such a man disappear into the
darkness where the nettles and dandelions clustered around the greenhouse and
the composters. None the wiser, they would see him crawl back to his chair,
pausing to hide something in the grass, nibbling at the raw meat he had left
out which you couldn’t find in any butchers local or otherwise, before slumping
into his chair and passing out. The Rachel Gladstones of the world would have
seen all that if Rachel Gladstone was anywhere to be found.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As it
was, Paul Wilson sat night after night, feeding the foxes as they brought his
Amelia back home to him. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-47355032466026008292021-09-05T11:35:00.001+01:002021-09-05T11:35:17.912+01:00Fear The Future: publishing news!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29I9r5PkYWHn6xlM-Binnidhk5UZf5m9CZiPg2BK7K7CPjhU7924rsTMcHqmSDir3ryMCirgfQrVfPoB9_r70p1C831uQGyvZd5u4Ub8IHo4lWperxBkzgxEuFByhZ2RCs-5uYEcCw4-S/s1200/Fear+the+Future+Custom+Social+Media+Ad+-+Phil+Sloman.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29I9r5PkYWHn6xlM-Binnidhk5UZf5m9CZiPg2BK7K7CPjhU7924rsTMcHqmSDir3ryMCirgfQrVfPoB9_r70p1C831uQGyvZd5u4Ub8IHo4lWperxBkzgxEuFByhZ2RCs-5uYEcCw4-S/w608-h341/Fear+the+Future+Custom+Social+Media+Ad+-+Phil+Sloman.png" width="608" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I have been sitting on this news for ages and it is great to be able to share it with everyone (and some of you will already have seen this going round on social media).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The brilliant <a href="https://www.corpuspress.com/" target="_blank">Corpus Press</a> are putting out the third in their In Darkness, Delight series called Fear The Future (great title!) and I am delighted that Evans and Andrew accepted my story What It Takes alongside works from an amazing array of talent including Penn Jillette of Penn and Teller fame.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My story is a near-future tale about bio-tech and what happens when it gets hijacked. I had a lot of fun with imagining how someone might react when they thought what would be their saviour possibly becomes their route to destruction. Just what would you do to survive and to protect your loved ones?</span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The blurb and full stellar line up (just soak up the talent on display!) are below and copies of Fear The Future can be purchased from </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Darkness-Delight-Fear-Future-ebook/dp/B09BDMYSTK/" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> <span style="font-size: large;">and </span><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Darkness-Delight-Fear-Future/dp/1953451047" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a>. <span style="font-size: large;">Plus take a look at that amazing cover; stunning! </span><span style="font-size: large;">I really think you're going to love this book and would love to hear what you think of it.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">IN DARKNESS, DELIGHT: FEAR THE FUTURE</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Tomorrow is coming whether you’re ready or not.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In Darkness, Delight: Fear the Future delivers twenty-two strikingly original tales of terror from Bram Stoker Award®-winners, bestselling authors, genre stalwarts and rising stars.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Includes Emmy-winning, New York Times bestselling author and world-famous magician Penn Jillette’s delightfully wicked short story “The Pain Addict,” which was adapted for a hit sci-fi anthology television series and is available here exclusively for the first time in book format.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Be warned: these are not science fiction stories with a dash of dread. These are visions of the horrifying futures that await us all.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Featuring:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">“Airborne,” by Lisa Morton</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Err,” by Michael Laimo</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Daddy's Girl,” by Ben Eads</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Husk,” by Marshall J Moore</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“We Have Names, Too,” by Michelle Muenzler</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“The Haunting of Asteroid H111,” by Van Aaron Hughes</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Shoulda Read the Fine Print, Blanche," by Ben Lawrence</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Transference,” by Jenn Hopkins</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Game Over,” by Andrew Lennon</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Schroedinger's Head,” by Joanna Koch</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Locusts,” by Dominick Cancilla</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“The Pain Addict,” by Penn Jillette</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“The Sluggie Rebellion,” by William Meikle</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Noise,” by Max Booth III</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Seeking Harmony with the Infinite,” by Evans Light</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Billy Campbell's Bones,” by Jason Washer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Survival is an Act of Selfishness,” by Frank Oreto</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Boxed In,” by CS Mergo</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“What It Takes,” by Phil Sloman</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Neuroworm,” by Tim Curran</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“And the Winner is...,” by Sheldon Higdon</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“If I Drive Before I Wake,” by Eric J Guignard</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-1906915704600394762021-09-05T11:09:00.001+01:002021-09-05T11:09:34.828+01:00It's been a while<span style="font-size: medium;">So it's been a while since I posted on this site and the simple reason is essentially life coupled with a global pandemic.</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Last year was quite tough as sadly my mum passed away after a long battle with cancer and I also ended up losing my job. These things coupled together alongside the general world of Covid meant I reprioritised a few things and have spent a lot of time getting out and about in nature which I always find a comforting thing to do. Anyone who follows my Twitter feed will have had a taste of that.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Things are not all doom and gloom though. 2021 has been kinder and I am back in employment again and was also able to get some writing done over the past year too. I was also proud as hell for The Woods to be nominated for Best Anthology at the British Fantasy Awards. Even though it didn't win it is always a huge honour to be shortlisted by your peers for such a prestigious award.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I've also got some exciting publishing news but I will put that on a separate post. Just wanted to come and say hi and let you know that I am still plugging away at this game of words.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Also, for anyone going to FantasyCon, do come and say a socially distanced hello in person!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Much love to all in these interesting times x</span></div>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-8352475225799529662020-10-28T07:35:00.002+00:002020-10-28T07:35:26.361+00:00The Woods shortlisted for British Fantasy Awards 2020!<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPSP6e0i7oEPqIfUGzls1vUnffs-AxlsgqipHqLlY69i-i8VMXqif7r64P8JRvOP-cAp34fyKIp_Fp6ggR_Ng1hvydZ3dmk-z90rrI_1YfmASHogEBHGGkGqjRDpqOqjMc693FUSiDZSg/s500/The+Woods+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Picture shows book cover of The Woods" border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="328" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPSP6e0i7oEPqIfUGzls1vUnffs-AxlsgqipHqLlY69i-i8VMXqif7r64P8JRvOP-cAp34fyKIp_Fp6ggR_Ng1hvydZ3dmk-z90rrI_1YfmASHogEBHGGkGqjRDpqOqjMc693FUSiDZSg/w210-h320/The+Woods+cover.jpg" title="The Woods cover" width="210" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Woods<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>I've been a little excited over the past few days and with good cause. The Woods has only gone and been shortlisted for Best Anthology at the <a href="http://www.britishfantasysociety.org/awards/british-fantasy-awards-2020-shortlists/" target="_blank">British Fantasy Awards</a>. Huge heartfelt thanks to everyone who took the time to vote for us. The shortlist for Best Anthology is chock full of amazing books and it is an honour for The Woods to appear alongside them.<br /><br />And congratulations to everyone else who has been shortlisted across all categories. There is some outstanding talent out there at the moment and it is fantastic to see people getting the recognition for all their hard work.<br /><br />For those who haven't read The Woods, the pages contain five original short stories from <a href="http://www.categardner.net/" target="_blank">Cate Gardner</a>, <a href="https://jameseverington.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">James Everington</a>, <a href="http://www.markwest.org.uk/" target="_blank">Mark West</a>, <a href="https://www.penny-jones.com/" target="_blank">Penny Jones</a>, and myself filling the traditional editor slot in this the sixth entry in the PentAnth series from Peter Mark May's <a href="https://silenthater.wixsite.com/hersham-horror-books/books" target="_blank">Hersham Horror Books</a>. Each of our British authors brings a unique take on our simple theme of The Woods with each bringing a very different tale indeed. When I approached everyone I knew we were in for something special and each and every one of them knocked it out of the park with their offerings. <br /><br />If you want to grab a copy of this award nominated anthology then what's stopping you? Go pick up yours from <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Woods-PentAnth-Phil-Sloman/dp/1096358891" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> or <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Woods-PentAnth-Phil-Sloman/dp/1096358891" target="_blank">Amazon US</a>.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-22194128030511125222020-08-01T12:47:00.004+01:002020-08-01T13:18:45.504+01:00Getting into character<br /><div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9LhP10cZbEnieUJe8j00HUufREwH7s2kLZ1Vkmh-nuqKNltvITzRQgMtpD98dPR0LEShxZr2SmjZOC2r1U0mhffq5XTqb5qoh2dp_jt0zxONoRh1EVfRSibWaT5i01VdvNJBU_jQIout/s300/masks-300x199.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Bronze drama masks showing comedy and tragedy" border="0" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="300" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9LhP10cZbEnieUJe8j00HUufREwH7s2kLZ1Vkmh-nuqKNltvITzRQgMtpD98dPR0LEShxZr2SmjZOC2r1U0mhffq5XTqb5qoh2dp_jt0zxONoRh1EVfRSibWaT5i01VdvNJBU_jQIout/w301-h201/masks-300x199.jpg" title="Drama masks" width="301" /></a></div><font face="arial">The majority, if not all, of my writing seems to centre around characters. The interplay between them, their insecurities, their personal journeys. It's what people seem to note most when commenting on my stories. So I thought I'd put down some words as to what I think helps to craft good characterisation. It would be great to hear some of your thoughts too.</font></div>
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<font face="arial"><b>Firstly, observe.</b> Before putting pen to paper I think there is a lot of value
in simply watching people and observing how they interact with others and the
world. Study how people act in the everyday, the beat and rhythm of
conversations, nervous tics, how people behave when they are uncomfortable,
when they are happy, and so on and so forth. See what stands out to you. I
remember being at Stansted airport waiting for a flight to Glasgow for
FantasyCon 2019 when we could all travel that more freely. Now airports are
great places to watch people. There's this vast array of life going on around
you. No different this time. Hundreds of lives unfolding before you, hundreds
of stories playing out. Yet one innocuous thing struck me. There was this
bloke, somewhere in his early fifties I would guess, slightly overweight but
not so much that you would notice, and he's standing there with his right hand
held out from his hip just ever so. And his first and middle finger were stuck
out in a slight V-shape with his thumb flicking at his middle finger every so
often. Smoker. Or ex-smoker at least. Now there's nothing remarkable there but
that one action glimpsed for a minute or so will get used by me at some point
in a story. And no one will really notice that it's in the story but it's a
little layer to add to a character.
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<b>Be diverse!</b> People are this wonderful tapestry in life and you should be able to weave that into your stories. Try to make your characters stand out from each other. Give each character a voice and traits which are their own. Think about their vocabulary, whether they use slang words, what swear words they use (if any), and if they are a talker or are more taciturn. And if your characters are perpetually all of one background, be that based on ethnicity, sexuality, gender, age, disability, religion, social status or other traits, then maybe think about branching out and better reflecting the diverse society we live in. <a href="http://midnightbreakfast.com/writing-people-of-color#:~:text=Writing%20People%20of%20Color%20%28if%20you%20happen%20to,and%20enough%20intrigue%20to%20keep%20the%20reader%20riveted." target="_blank">MariNaomi over at Midnight Breakfast</a>, <a href="https://deaddarlings.com/closet-writing-gay-characters/" target="_blank">Kelly J Ford over at Dead Darlings</a>, <a href="https://www.tor.com/2015/03/04/writing-women-characters-as-human-beings/" target="_blank">Kate Elliott at Tor.com</a> and <a href="http://www.ariefarnam.com/books/2018/2/16/problematic-and-irritating-disability-tropes-to-avoid-in-writing" target="_blank">Arie Farnam on her blog</a> all provide far better advice on writing characters from a variety of backgrounds than I ever could.<br /></font><br /></div><div>
<font face="arial"><b>Nobody is perfect!</b> Whatever else you do, make your characters flawed! I don't know a single person who doesn't have some trait or other which makes them human rather than robot. Find out what that is for your character and use it. Personally I find the more flawed the character, the more interesting they are.</font></div><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8B6ft0DFukiKa5sPMmWe2GN-Bic06S8TMpOhyj0WHm5IseqstzMpSmFllXeqgJJkxXH17jh8y2018Y6XaxLNcsuHNdUxuMfI4GWKJ9NUDApbpuY3SWWjoMraQ6Hh1dhdyWN329sdwdF8d/s442/Silence.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><font face="arial" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></font></a></div><font face="arial"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-NDIycCPTipxlcTwfzlFX0kRaFgaWZjrMTvCa3RZWmpGKT3khJuSxquXDFFwPTcb33vaDAZvhNvxoFEoee6tXxow2OQT1YKGhIVl_OSXIOdDVJVM7FIPdxzIB4kBVimm7IkMmcNiqtFH/s387/Shush.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Woman with finger to lips in a shush gesture" border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="327" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-NDIycCPTipxlcTwfzlFX0kRaFgaWZjrMTvCa3RZWmpGKT3khJuSxquXDFFwPTcb33vaDAZvhNvxoFEoee6tXxow2OQT1YKGhIVl_OSXIOdDVJVM7FIPdxzIB4kBVimm7IkMmcNiqtFH/w168-h198/Shush.jpg" title="Shush" width="168" /></a></div>The sound of silence. </font></b><font face="arial">I talked earlier about listening to people and conversations. Think about your own conversations in the day to day and how they play out. At some point someone will pause and that is when things change. Silence can be the quickening of a heartbeat as two people fall in love. Silence can also be the awkwardness of a word said in anger or a misinterpretation of a situation. When that moment of silence comes some people will fidget, some will look at their feet (anywhere but the other person), some will be comfortable and gaze with affection at their companion. Whatever happens, don't be afraid of your characters interacting in non-verbal ways. </font></div><div><font face="arial"><br /></font></div><div><br /></div><div><font face="arial"><b>All by myself.</b> A lot of what we learn about a character's personality is often by what they are doing than what they are saying. In fact, you can develop characters massively when they are in a situation on their own with no other characters to interact with. Sometimes you might do this via inner monologues. Sometimes it's how they are interacting with the environment around them. Sometimes it's both. </font></div><div><b></b><font face="arial"></font><br /></div><div><font face="arial"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnqVD6fjrG-jrn2ZUyxnuOZ2KLNsMMLxl52kr8LXv5Wi0R256OpnIp73wlCkfN9HSFKjsRONDsNaie-C60NdDR05la5Zrd0OKyPyYlEMrJZbvKq4WoN7rPkGLT6Iz_sTb6hIvS7_YkEqA/s480/Dump+truck.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Rear of dump truck with maxi dump written on it" border="0" data-original-height="358" data-original-width="480" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnqVD6fjrG-jrn2ZUyxnuOZ2KLNsMMLxl52kr8LXv5Wi0R256OpnIp73wlCkfN9HSFKjsRONDsNaie-C60NdDR05la5Zrd0OKyPyYlEMrJZbvKq4WoN7rPkGLT6Iz_sTb6hIvS7_YkEqA/w246-h183/Dump+truck.jpg" title="Dump truck" width="246" /></a></div>The information dump! </b>Okay, but your characters will probably have to communicate verbally at some point (they might not). As already noted, there is generally an unspoken ebb and flow to conversations. Almost as if you wait your turn. We generally tend to talk in short sentences before passing to the next person (though we all know the person who can talk non-stop). Have a listen when you're next chatting to someone even if that passing of the baton is someone else going "Uh huh," before passing back to you. Sometimes people will be listening to each other, other times they will be biding their time until they can make their killer retort. Now when writing stories there is the temptation, and I have done it, to use dialogue to provide massive information dumps. And you know what, that can work really well if handled properly. However, sometimes you will see characters go into lengthy monologues with barely a pause for breath. Try to find the right balance and think about how the interaction with other characters and the surrounding environment breaks up what can be a chunky bit of speech. </font></div><div><font face="arial"><br /></font></div>
<div><font face="arial"><b>Reaction.</b> Years ago I wrote a cliched script for a slasher film which has never seen the light of day and is probably better for it. In that script a head is found in the middle of a campsite by some college kids (I mentioned cliched, right?) who started talking calmly about how it had got there. Now I showed this script to my friend Phil who gave me this wonderful piece of advice. "For the love of God, have someone scream!" Now the scream here is not the most important message, it's the fact that no one on finding a severed head would simply go into detective mode. There needs to be an authentic reaction to whatever action has just taken place and this will vary from character to character.<b><br /></b></font><br /></div><div><font face="arial"><b>Be true unto thine self.</b> Or rather, have the characters be true to themselves. This sort of backs up my previous comments on reaction. Some traits will remain constant. For example, if a character hates coffee creams at the start of the story then it's highly unlikely that they are going to love them by the end. Equally, you will probaby want to see some personal journey for your characters throughout your story. Make sure that if that character evolves that it is believable. If you're going to have a confident individual reduced to a traumatised wreck by the end of the story then draw that transition out. Take the reader on that journey with the character. Don't just snap your fingers at the culmination and go 'Hey Presto!'. </font></div><div><font face="arial"></font><br /></div><div><font face="arial"><b>Why am I here?</b> Not an existential question. One more of relevance to the story. If a character is doing absolutely nothing in the scene or the story then think about whether you actually need them there. </font><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmQhWZFr3sIZIsMslv_4AmvYOHTp-bjBlLIOljaKzNNrEjcFucO8v8Zr3Vt5HZwomTS-Y8ksmCoo1oH5PfQUoU1HZeh5F4jw3h9ZxdRzI1zKbTNZcrOw506PTIy01BbPyLMroqXf7kfzr/s1743/Iceberg+image.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="arial"></font><br /></a></div><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaeyav2JH8QXsAmN8KjK7f_j6PQN_E0KFMXl6XVD5ZcorUViRvCtfwrCHJay1I-YzkHx3uLE_rtIC1tfzgeUeB-_U-fbrin6_08Og3OV2QFFi-LEDqZMLUziJZckSgSBaiPvrx4V29u6T1/s1743/Iceberg+image.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="arial"><img alt="Iceberg part submerged in the sea" border="0" data-original-height="1743" data-original-width="1200" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaeyav2JH8QXsAmN8KjK7f_j6PQN_E0KFMXl6XVD5ZcorUViRvCtfwrCHJay1I-YzkHx3uLE_rtIC1tfzgeUeB-_U-fbrin6_08Og3OV2QFFi-LEDqZMLUziJZckSgSBaiPvrx4V29u6T1/w181-h263/Iceberg+image.jpg" title="Iceberg in water" width="181" /></font></a></div><font face="arial">The iceberg.</font></b><font face="arial"> Not everything about the character has to be on the page. Think of them like an iceberg; 20% visible, the other 80% beneath the surface. It's the same when you're meeting someone new. You get certain information about them but you don't get anywhere near all of it. Favourite foods, childhood experiences, what music they like, etc. Now you don't need to craft a 100 page thesis on your character and their backstory but it's useful for you to have in your head some salient details which helps you grasp some of the way that character reacts or is motivated. And in doing so you'll be surprised at how your character comes to life more on the page and also in your own head as their creator.</font></div><div><b></b><b></b><b></b><b></b><font face="arial"></font><br /></div><div><font face="arial"><br /></font></div><div><font face="arial"><br /></font></div><div><font face="arial"><br /></font></div><div><font face="arial"><br /></font></div><div><font face="arial">So that's about the majority of it, I'd say. Or at least what works for me. Hopefully there are some useful thoughts in there for you to make use of and I hope it resonates with your own experiences of writing and reading characters. I look forward to meeting the people you go and create on the page. Good luck.<br /></font>
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Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-26068930465655040552020-04-12T12:29:00.002+01:002020-04-14T08:49:55.886+01:00Les VacancesMany years ago, when I was first starting out in this writing game, I was at one of the British Fantasy Society open nights. These nights have always been fun events with books, banter and booze and varying degrees of measure. They are also a good place to 'talk shop' as my friend CC Adams would say. I was talking with one of the leading editors in the horror scene and amongst the advice he gave me, he said "get yourself published by the reputable presses, presses like Alchemy."<br />
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Those were words which stuck with me and I was delighted to have my short story The Girl with Three Eyes published by The Alchemy Press back in 2018 in <a href="https://alchemypress.wordpress.com/alchemy-publications/2018-publications/the-alchemy-press-book-of-horrors/" target="_blank">The Alchemy Press Book of Horrors</a>. Move on to 2020 and I am even more delighted to announce that my novella <a href="https://alchemypress.wordpress.com/2020/04/06/les-vacances/" target="_blank">Les Vacances</a> has been picked up as a reprint by Peter and Jan at Alchemy. I am always nothing short of impressed with the books they put out there and so it a huge privilege to have a standalone story from me bearing the Alchemy name.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Originally printed by Lycopolis Press back in 2018 as part of a wider anthology including stories from Jan Edwards, Dean M Drinkel and Romain Collier, Les Vacances is a foray into folk horror for me as we follow husba</span>nd and wife Frank and Elizabeth on their holiday abroad.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; display: inline !important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 300; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">"Monasteries rising and falling. Heretics and stakes and fire. There were rebellions and revolution and tales of abundance and happiness and new beginnings. Within the book there were also lies and omissions and fallacies all designed to gloss over a dark past many had long forgotten. Many but not all. The vacation of a lifetime."</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">What will happen to Frank and Elizabeth? Will the locals be friendly? What might have been otherwise? Come grab a copy of find out.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Les Vacances will be part of an <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1127932154218460/" target="_blank">online launch</a> of Alchemy Press titles on 16 April on Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1127932154218460/" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/events/1127932154218460/ </a> Other titles are The Alchemy Press Book of Horrors 2, Jan Edwards' novella A Small Thing for Yolanda, and Tina Rath's collection Talking to Strangers and Other Warnings. Come along, bring a bottle, and settle down for an evening of books, booze and banter in varying measures ;-)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black;">Pre-orders available here: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Vacances-Phil-Sloman/dp/191103409X/" target="_blank">https://www.amazon.co.uk/Vacances-Phil-Sloman/dp/191103409X/</a><br />
Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-54267298070364546192020-02-17T21:38:00.000+00:002020-02-18T10:56:27.347+00:00The Prediction - one time onlyMany moons ago I had the honour of hosting The Prediction, a weekly flash fiction challenge which was the brainchild of horror author extraordinaire <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lilychildsfeardom">Lily Childs</a> who hosted it for years before I became involved. Lily would post up three words and ask guests to write a 100 word story with those three words somewhere within the prose. After I hosted it, Colleen Johnson picked up the mantle alongside Rebecca Kovar and, in turn, it passed to <a href="https://predictionfiction.blogspot.com/">Sandra Davies</a> who runs it to this day.<br />
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I enjoyed running The Prediction but I found I didn't have the time to commit to it in the long run. What I saw in my time of hosting was some fabulous talent. I also saw authors using it to get out of a rut in their own writing. The slumps we all go through from time to time. This evening, a good friend of mine posted about being in one of those slumps. Therefore, <b>for one time only</b>, I am running a Prediction round on this site.<br />
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The rules are simple: I give you three words. Take those three words and include them somewhere in a story of no more than 100 words (less is fine). The genre should be horror. Post your story in the comments section of this post. Deadline is midnight Saturday 29 February (UK time). I will choose a winner on Sunday 1 March. The prize: my adoration of your words.<br />
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Your three words are:<br />
- Debate<br />
- Quiver<br />
- Weevil<br />
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Variants of the words are allowed. For example, debates, debated, debating, debater, debatably.<br />
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Update: Ross Warren of Dark Minds Press has very generously offered prizes for this. The top three entries get a copy of <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Imposter-Syndrome-Gary-McMahon/dp/1974566153" target="_blank">Imposter Syndrome</a>. The overall winner also gets a couple of titles from Dark Minds Press' novella series. Many thanks, Ross!<br />
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Good luck. I await your stories with anticipation and dread. And if you enjoy this, then go visit Sandra's site <a href="https://predictionfiction.blogspot.com/">https://predictionfiction.blogspot.com/</a> and play on a weekly basis.Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com62tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-47721099093332341402019-12-31T13:36:00.002+00:002019-12-31T13:37:59.910+00:00Good FortuneRowan Fortune provides a round up of books which stood out for him in 2019 and I was delighted to see my collection <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Broken-Inside-Phil-Sloman/dp/1719049009" target="_blank">Broken on the Inside</a> appear. As Rowan puts it, <i>"</i><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #ba0008; display: inline; float: none; font-family: , "georgia" , "cambria" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 33.18px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i>I will also always associate 2019 with a set of indie horror fictions that I read throughout the year; these are books that left deep impressions on me. Such fiction engages with a horror that is deeply concerned with personal and social realities, and it does so with creativity and flair."</i> </span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
I would highly recommend the works Rowan has picked out and the full list can be found <a href="https://medium.com/@RT_Editing/a-year-of-eight-horrors-9997a0379330" target="_blank">here<span style="color: #b00000;">.</span></a>Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-40491746301423601982019-12-23T16:00:00.002+00:002019-12-23T16:05:26.213+00:00The Woods makes Ginger Nuts of Horror's Books of the Year part 1Absolutely delighted that The Woods has made Ginger Nuts of Horror's Books of the Year Part 1. I've been fortunate enough to makes Jim McLeod's list of best books in previous years but this is the first time as editor of an anthology.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJg8pYGF64S8dzHSHiDxELy9bxsTkVV6KUOnwCnhJuRAb6CvPhg9_pqT5RtpKtcJ7GVX9iFUIjVGSI3iwcxkUH6gTSkH0rB9Q1xhTY7Nugsok18C4rysmodAOtk3rBspcrJ8x-zpm9WYb/s1600/The+Woods+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="636" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJg8pYGF64S8dzHSHiDxELy9bxsTkVV6KUOnwCnhJuRAb6CvPhg9_pqT5RtpKtcJ7GVX9iFUIjVGSI3iwcxkUH6gTSkH0rB9Q1xhTY7Nugsok18C4rysmodAOtk3rBspcrJ8x-zpm9WYb/s320/The+Woods+cover.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
The Woods contains superb stories from Cate Gardner, James Everington, Mark West and Penny Jones alongside an offering from me. I loved each and every story sent to me and it was wonderful to work with such talented writers.<br />
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Plus a huge thanks to Peter Mark May for asking me to helm this for his Hersham Horror Books imprint and his coming up with the theme.<br />
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Here is a link to Jim's Books of the Year Part 1. There's some fabulous works on there showing just how strong horror is currently as a genre. Very much looking forward to seeing what else Jim has picked out for his next selections.<br />
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https://gingernutsofhorror.com/fiction-reviews/ginger-nuts-of-horrors-books-of-the-year-jim-mcleods-picks-part-1Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-14698796382418172332019-05-19T09:25:00.001+01:002019-05-19T09:25:07.619+01:00The WoodsFirstly, for anyone who passes by this blog from time to time, apologies as I have been neglectful in my duties and have left the weeds to grow. This has mainly been due to life with a major family illness and a lot of change in my day job. However, I have been busy writing in the background when the time allows and also a bit of editing.<br />
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Peter Mark May of Hersham Horror Books was kind enough to ask me to be editor for the latest in his fantastic PentAnth series. The connecting theme is five writers coming together on a single themed anthology (hence the Pent and Anth). Peter asked me to wrangle writers together on the subject of The Woods. Fantastic! I love the woods in general, spending lots of my free time either with family or on my own walking in the woods and exploring nature, so this was a perfect theme for me.<br />
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I am delighted to say that I was able to find some fine, fine writers to be part of this anthology alongside my good self (the editor always puts in a story in the PentAnth series). I was delighted when Cate Gardner, James Everington, Mark West and Penny Jones all said yes to being involved. They have crafted some fantastic pieces and I expect to hear their several if not all of their names mentioned when we come round to awards time next year.<br />
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Mark, as well as providing a story, also worked with Peter to provide a fantastic cover for the book which I present to you below:<br />
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The Woods launches at EdgeLit on 13 July in Derby and will also be available from the usual online places. I hope you grab and copy and enjoy the stories therein.Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-13932295176231442252018-07-08T09:23:00.002+01:002018-07-08T09:39:34.005+01:00The reviews are coming in.....and they're great!It's been about a month since <a href="https://blackshuck.greatbritishhorror.com/shadows-6/" target="_blank">Broken on the Inside</a>, my micro-collection from Black Shuck Books, was released. There's always a nervous feeling when you launch a new book, your baby out there in the world. Will people like it? Will they hate it? Will they even read it?<br />
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With Broken on the Inside I lined up a number of reviews with different sites in the genre and I've opened each review as they've been published with excitement and trepidation. I needn't have been apprehensive. Suffice to say I have been blown away with the love being shown. And thank you to all the reviewers for taking the time to read Broken on the Inside and give their thoughts. Here's a few links to show what people have been saying:<br />
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<a href="http://www.gingernutsofhorror.com/fiction-reviews/book-review-broken-on-the-inside-by-phil-sloman" target="_blank">Jim McLeod, Ginger Nuts of Horror</a>: <i><span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body">"Broken on
the Inside, is a magnificent collection of stories. Writing about mental
health issues is never easy, it can result in some clumsy, heavy-handed
writing that does nothing to address the issues that the writer is
trying to address, but to attempt this within a genre story, that
demands the inclusion of certain aspects and themes makes this task even
more daunting. Sloman has more than risen to the challenge, all of the
five stories transcend the trappings of the genre to deliver a set of
intelligent, heartfelt, and haunting incursions into the broken minds
that so many of us suffer from. If this book doesn't win awards this
year then there is something seriously wrong with the world."</span></i> <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://kendallreviews.com/phil-sloman-broken-on-the-inside-kendall-review/" target="_blank">Gavin Kendall, Kendall Reviews</a>: <i>"Phil Sloman is unquestionably a talent, someone I definitely want to
read more of. Sloman has a writing style that leaps off the page and
offers near perfect characterisation, Broken on the Inside is a
superb collection. Five excellent shorts that evoke all sorts of
emotions. For a book with such dark, and serious, subject matter it’s
not a heavy read in the slightest."</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.dlsreviews.com/broken-on-the-inside.php" target="_blank">Chris Hall, DLS Reviews</a><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>: </i></span><i>"It’s savage and cold and utterly
unforgiving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then that’s what Sloman
does best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He might be a happy smiling
fella on the outside, but in his stories he’s slicing and dicing the souls of
his characters until there’s nothing left but broken shells and insanity."</i><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></i><br />
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<a href="http://anthony-watson.blogspot.com/2018/06/broken-on-inside.html" target="_blank">Anthony Watson, Dark Musings</a>: <i>"It’s a strong ending to a very strong collection. Along with
the clever ideas already mentioned there’s a great deal of intelligence in the
writing. Ideas are great but it takes skill to craft them into stories that are
as enjoyable to read as these five are. This skill, along with a keen eye for
the minutiae of human behaviour in all its dark reality mark Phil out as a writer to watch for in
the future."</i><br />
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
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<a href="http://terror-tree.co.uk/2018/06/broken-on-the-inside-by-phil-sloman/" target="_blank">Yvonne Davies, Terror Tree</a>: <i>"Each story was completely different and whilst there were not monsters
and demons in this book, it shows how frightening human nature and
conditions can be. Each story built up to unexpected endings. I love
this author’s short stories and I hope there are more to come. If you
have not read any of this authors work before than this is a great
collection to get you started."</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://charlene.booklikes.com/post/1771558/broken-on-the-inside-by-phil-sloman" target="_blank">Charlene Cocrane, Char's Horror Corner</a>: <i>"These stories were all heavy hitters and combined, make up this
powerful narrative as a whole. I enjoyed it as entertaining storytelling
on one level, but it also caused me to think deeply about life as we
know it and how we go about living that life. Every single person in
this book had problems-addictions and obsessions. They were broken on
the inside. This led me to thinking about the people I know and even
myself. Aren't we all BROKEN ON THE INSIDE in one way or another? Highly recommended for fans of extremely well written dark fiction!"</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://daniel-i-russell.blogspot.com/2018/06/review-broken-on-inside-by-phil-sloman.html" target="_blank">Daniel I Russell, Horror Writer</a>: "<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>In summary, goddamn this Phil Sloman and
his book. It's a perfect example of how strong the horror game can be,
particularly on reaching levels of characterisation other authors may
require chapters to reach. Goddamn him."</i></span></span><br />
<br />
Broken on the Inside can be bought <a href="https://blackshuck.greatbritishhorror.com/shadows-6/" target="_blank">here.</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-15476095327777540332018-05-13T18:33:00.000+01:002018-05-13T18:33:03.147+01:00A trio of announcementsAs usual, have been a bit quiet on here. Perhaps one day I will get good at this blogging lark! Anyway, it is with good reason as I have been busy on the writing front and with something to show for it. Over the next two months I have three writing related ventures out in the wider world.<br />
<br />
To start with I have my first solo collection out with Black Shuck Books. Steve Shaw approached me at FantasyCon 2017 to ask what my plans were for the next year and offer me a deal to pull together a mini-collection. Naturally I jumped at the chance. Steve has been doing some great work and building a respected name under the banner of Black Shuck Books. My collection, Broken on the Inside, will be the sixth in the Shadow Series which has featured such names as Paul Kane, Joseph D'Lacey and Thana Niveau among others. What a line up to be alongside!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghN9GzaIP8HWVeBqjdlBWlIPqlsejaGMoto1hmJP0Q9QE2aZgFpPd2pox1ZNGq8R0sDrZb52d-EjCUPyvg97aUzzq1ei_zaMWIpgsfvMxNMh4E1dHK67EPYSOkvaxVa3eawQxEabp9LgGt/s1600/Broken+on+the+Inside+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghN9GzaIP8HWVeBqjdlBWlIPqlsejaGMoto1hmJP0Q9QE2aZgFpPd2pox1ZNGq8R0sDrZb52d-EjCUPyvg97aUzzq1ei_zaMWIpgsfvMxNMh4E1dHK67EPYSOkvaxVa3eawQxEabp9LgGt/s320/Broken+on+the+Inside+cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Broken on the Inside features previously published stories Discomfort Food, The Man who fed the Foxes, There was an Old Man and Virtually Famous alongside a story penned specifically for this collection, the titular Broken on the Inside. And Steve himself produced the cover art based on a concept I gave him which he ran with and then some! I hope folks notice the gradually expanding fracture in the dolls which Steve went above and beyond to sort out. It is released on 4 June and pre-orders are available here:<a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="asynclazy" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.blackshuckbooks.co.uk%2Fshadows-6&h=ATM3KvvisjZ9D8oISE6FljI4z_VyBiN0UHfW-j7VatHqDc97UUfIMQBscq6Q6ZCky3C5f9vcnK6pJjRAEI0CxS1RxbSSIbYSalA1YbsWW8iG7jxHuT79EIcVww0WMB9g0q6HCX20" href="http://www.blackshuckbooks.co.uk/shadows-6" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">www.blackshuckbooks.co.uk/shadows-6</a><br />
<br />
Next up is my short story Dust which appears in Holding on by our Fingertips from Grimbold Books and featuring some brilliant writers at the top of their game. I was approached by Amanda Rutter to submit a story with no promise of acceptance. The premise was those early days when the end of the world is imminent. Fortunately Amanda liked what I came up with and there is a launch on 8 June at Waterstones, Oxford alongside two other superb books from Grimbold.<br />
<br />
Dust tells the tale of a couple in their retirement, holed away in the remoteness of the countryside. How does someone tell someone the world is coming to an end when they have dementia? Does it matter or do you struggle on and pretend everything is normal? A sad tale as the world lurches towards its end game.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewLx72v3MfFyA-aH1vL9DeEzKtNkNHE5Fxivw3MgvcJtdiWdd9iB4EQv-SAzPOCHSLYnygFLM2aO6jRjKe5ectWG_pqed_FccyC0CZ6I7keQUHj9LWKmnBL6baS_1nT7vHA87KKxr1R6W/s1600/Holding+on+by+our+Fingertips+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewLx72v3MfFyA-aH1vL9DeEzKtNkNHE5Fxivw3MgvcJtdiWdd9iB4EQv-SAzPOCHSLYnygFLM2aO6jRjKe5ectWG_pqed_FccyC0CZ6I7keQUHj9LWKmnBL6baS_1nT7vHA87KKxr1R6W/s320/Holding+on+by+our+Fingertips+cover.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And finally a book a long time in the making yet well worth the wait. In Dog We Trust launches on 14 July at EdgeLit in Derby. The brainchild of Anthony Cowin, In Dog We Trust brings us a collection of tales from some amazing writers about our four legged friends and the horrors which exist in the world. All proceeds go to the Birmingham Dog's Home.<br />
<br />
My story A Dog is for Death is a grim tale exploring the world of dog fights and dishes out revenge to the vile scum who run this racket. Another offering from Black Shuck Books.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqSLUYXGrA3gyx9sL4LUHNnkngYXwoBr31F6WNNXG3K4fJhaUEDBGvV4Jwbmaqe-EZ3HTl4GkPU4W3FEFyNFKbKimMVUtscwmCDrgcDkSCr3yeirZIeXnaSg8SwK9N3C0GiLlPnIGEiMR/s1600/In+Dog+We+Trust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="601" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqSLUYXGrA3gyx9sL4LUHNnkngYXwoBr31F6WNNXG3K4fJhaUEDBGvV4Jwbmaqe-EZ3HTl4GkPU4W3FEFyNFKbKimMVUtscwmCDrgcDkSCr3yeirZIeXnaSg8SwK9N3C0GiLlPnIGEiMR/s320/In+Dog+We+Trust.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
So there you go. Three books for you to get your hands on with some cracking tales therein. I hope that you enjoy them if you're kind enough to pick up a copy or two.<br />
Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-77697343406373931902017-12-27T19:02:00.001+00:002017-12-27T19:33:02.082+00:00Onwards into the unknown!Onwards into the unknown! Okay, that was a mildly more exciting title than it needed to be but I've had a multitude of food, booze and cheer and so it was the best I could do in these trying circumstances. What I wanted to say was 'here is what I am up to in 2018' but it's less snappy and filled with wonder and unknownness.<br />
<br />
2018 is one of those years where I'll look quite busy (and I invariably will be) but a lot of the initial legwork has been done in 2017.<br />
<br />
Plans for writing work to come out are:<br />
<br />
La Vacation - this is a novella length French folk horror story as part of a small anthology being edited by Dean M Drinkel who has published a number of my stories previously. It follows Frank and Elizabeth, a middle-aged English couple, as they take a trip to France the latter half of the last century. Think Hammer horror with a touch of Gallic flare. My first dip into folk horror so will be interesting to see what people think.<br />
<br />
I've about three charity anthologies which I have contributed stories to (one story still to be written). The causes will go to help people with autism (Child Autism UK), homeless people (Shelter) and a dog's charity (charity being finalised). Will plug properly as they become available.<br />
<br />
On top of that I have four other short stories which have been accepted in to anthologies with themes ranging from monsters, ice cream trucks, the end of the world and industrial horror. There are also a couple of open submissions I might chance my arm at.<br />
<br />
I am also really excited to have my own mini-collection coming out with three or four re-prints and a new short story which I shall be penning next month.<br />
<br />
And final current work in progress is a novella I have embarked on off my own back entitled Stanley Sebastian Solomon. It's a dark psychological tale about a lad on probation housed up in a halfway house and the residents he lives with. I'm about halfway through and this one feels quite angry as I am writing it (I think a reflection of a personally dark 2017 I have had where my head has been an interesting, if not pleasant, place to be) and hopefully offers something a little different to other works out there. Currently considering whether to experiment with self-publishing or pitching it to established publishers.<br />
<br />
Then the real push for 2018 is to put a novel together (isn't that what most writers say at this point?). I have the plot in my head and it feels like something both commercial as well as something I want to write. Sitting in the psychological market I hope I can ride on this year's BFS Best Newcomer nomination but we'll see. The first thing is to get the words down on paper otherwise wishes and dreams count for nothing!<br />
<br />
Looking forward to an exciting 2018 and also to reading the vast quantity of books from others coming out this year. I'm am in awe of so many other writers out there at the moment and the quality they are producing month after month. We truly are in a golden age of horror.<br />
<br />
Love, hugs and kisses and an amazing 2018 for all of you!<br />
<br />
Phil x<br />
<br />
<br />Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-80086406809819922052017-11-18T11:27:00.001+00:002017-11-18T11:28:17.369+00:00Imposter SyndromeNext weekend sees me at SledgeLit where I shall be doing a reading from a great anthology I am in entitled <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Imposter-Syndrome-Gary-McMahon/dp/1974566153/ref=sr_1_15?tag=geolinker-21&ie=UTF8" target="_blank">Imposter Syndrome</a> published by Dark Minds Press and edited by James Everington and Dan Howarth.<br />
<br />
Here's the blurb:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52GVvGrN8f-Cxcp9XozgZWUEUg5Egl6wsnXVrG7ews6nwpg_JIP0iXKX9yjJPaJ1c5j8nA_me2oJ1aQi_vopwlpRu9H3V3WhF5uwL8GbJEVIvYqkCxdhqZEv1IbNQAXApQdQk6jD5E_Uf/s1600/Imposter+Syndrome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="257" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52GVvGrN8f-Cxcp9XozgZWUEUg5Egl6wsnXVrG7ews6nwpg_JIP0iXKX9yjJPaJ1c5j8nA_me2oJ1aQi_vopwlpRu9H3V3WhF5uwL8GbJEVIvYqkCxdhqZEv1IbNQAXApQdQk6jD5E_Uf/s400/Imposter+Syndrome.jpg" width="254" /></a><i style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if you thought your family had been replaced by identical copies? </span></i><br />
<br />
<div style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if you could no longer trust the faces of people you met? </span></i></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if you saw someone who looked exactly like you? </span></i></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dark
Minds Press brings you an anthology of doppelgängers, clones,
changelings, Capgras-delusion and pod-people, featuring stories from
some of the best writers of horror and speculative fiction around. </span></i></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
And the line up of authors is amazing! Just check out the TOC below:<br />
<br />
INTRODUCTION<br />
James Everington & Dan Howarth<br />
<br />
I KNOW WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE<br />
Gary McMahon<br />
<br />
IN THE MARROW<br />
Laura Mauro<br />
<br />
WHO IS THAT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF YOU?<br />
Timothy J Jarvis<br />
<br />
WHAT’S YOURS IS MINE<br />
Holly Ice<br />
<br />
THE INSIDER<br />
Neil Williamson<br />
<br />
OTHER PEOPLE’S DREAMS<br />
Stephen Bacon<br />
<br />
HOLD MY HAND AND I’LL TAKE YOU THERE<br />
Ralph Robert Moore<br />
<br />
THE WRONG HOUSE<br />
Tracy Fahey<br />
<br />
LITTLE HEART<br />
Georgina Bruce<br />
<br />
VIRTUALLY FAMOUS<br />
Phil SlomanPhil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-70730935331043563312017-10-22T19:41:00.000+01:002017-10-22T19:41:04.760+01:00Does the West need to be quicker on the draw?Before the magazine was no more, I did a bit of film reviewing for John Gilbert' Fear Magazine. One of the articles I wrote had a look at animation in horror films. Below, with the permission of John, is the article in full. Hopefully some new films for people to discover and old favourites to be reacquainted with.<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnJltqALmWlvV1qso9xviL_ZbpYZEU5BjR8MfVvOnsaCIPQAara3DbhXDrfDoaC9dct5IYP1a0REQzJfIPTfnvEMjgQuK0rdEbaO4ndJ1fwqArQ8tUrvDmIQupMS8uIQU7P7NUECxXIt-/s1600/Time+Masters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="750" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnJltqALmWlvV1qso9xviL_ZbpYZEU5BjR8MfVvOnsaCIPQAara3DbhXDrfDoaC9dct5IYP1a0REQzJfIPTfnvEMjgQuK0rdEbaO4ndJ1fwqArQ8tUrvDmIQupMS8uIQU7P7NUECxXIt-/s320/Time+Masters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ever since I was a kid I have loved animated films. And it’s
not just me. You simply need to look at the money taken by smash hits such as the
Toy Story, Shrek, Despicable Me, and Madagascar franchises as well as the likes
of Frozen, Cars, A Bug’s Life, Antz, The Lego Movie and so on and on and on. Going
back into the history of cinema we have a dominance of Disney in the box office
from Bambi, Pinocchio and Cinderella through to the Lion King, Aladdin and The
Little Mermaid alongside other animated films from Europe such as a spate of
Asterix films and Hergé’s Adventures of Tintin. Millions and millions spent to entertain us. The
target audience for these films is predominantly children with the right mix of
content to keep parents engaged too. Yet where is the darker side of this
painted cinematic world? What is out there purely for an adult audience? Where
are the terrors which come to life from the skill of the artist’s pen in
celluloid framed glory?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
A quick look on IMDB under horror
will suggest 5,545 animated horror films with a further quick look showing that
a lot of those are either shorts, TV series, Japanese or a combination. As with
a lot of things horror, Japan latched on to this idea and has run with it in a
unique and wonderful style. I remember first coming across Japanese animation in
the 90s whilst working out how to navigate the social interactions of
university campus life. A friend of mine was heavily into anime and introduced
me to a plethora of films which pulsed with life in their exaggerated fashion. Some
films people may be familiar with are Perfect Blue, Blood: The Last Vampire,
Vampire Hunter D and Demon City. Now several years later I came to pondering
why this visibility in the Japanese market hasn’t translated itself to the
Western world. Therefore I decided to spend the last few weeks seeing how
prevalent animated horror films are on this side of the globe. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Over here you might think that
animation is solely a gateway drug to get children into horror though I suspect
the influence would more likely come from online games nowadays. Kids’ horror
films do great business. If you don’t believe me then look at the figures below
from a small selection:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
The Nightmare Before Christmas
(33<sup>rd</sup> highest ranked film for worldwide box office in 1993)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
The Corpse Bride (Budget $30
million, sales $114 million)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Hotel Transylvania (Budget $85
million, sales $470 million)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Frankenweenie (Budget $39
million, sales $106 million)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Monster House (Budget $75
million, sales $218 million)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
(Source: The Numbers.com)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
And this ignores the behemoth
which is Scooby Doo with its massive horror traits. To this day I swear they
paid homage to The Bird with the Crystal Plumage in an episode of Scooby Doo!
Mystery Incorporated.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFDs6A4L3mFKR6t-VSmdkvDqWAaCHhl-_UwtVg7Ivmc_6pus3mayM95Yph8a58V0ajyvTdC5kqFUMHy-ujfADDznU-gCto3YR2_mTZHetTHwmz7UH0LcPq_9gskUVfgXp50-kB3I3Rw3M/s1600/Watership+Down.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFDs6A4L3mFKR6t-VSmdkvDqWAaCHhl-_UwtVg7Ivmc_6pus3mayM95Yph8a58V0ajyvTdC5kqFUMHy-ujfADDznU-gCto3YR2_mTZHetTHwmz7UH0LcPq_9gskUVfgXp50-kB3I3Rw3M/s200/Watership+Down.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Horror in children’s animation is
nothing new. These of you who grew up in the late seventies or early eighties will
invariably have been scarred by the images of General Woundwort ripping out
throats in Watership Down combined with the more spectral imagery of the black
rabbit El-ahrairah. And though whilst firmly in the fantasy camp, it would be
impossible not to mention Ralph Bakshi’s incomplete telling of The Lord of the
Rings whose raw animation style through the use of Rotoscoping made for a dark
and gruesome film at times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsnRmleT4bmQAsiH2e4WoFY43esBmdmjzXoigEo7_KMUYBWXWMRMb5J3ELV3cw5KXS9A9VDMuMa6EGSLXbOVYzpaL-ZD3VvrOsCgaOXHj8FmBxVMMPWeEpjUiuLkHjpuVRCCO3gE6e1iJe/s1600/When+the+wind+blows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="415" height="105" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsnRmleT4bmQAsiH2e4WoFY43esBmdmjzXoigEo7_KMUYBWXWMRMb5J3ELV3cw5KXS9A9VDMuMa6EGSLXbOVYzpaL-ZD3VvrOsCgaOXHj8FmBxVMMPWeEpjUiuLkHjpuVRCCO3gE6e1iJe/s200/When+the+wind+blows.jpg" width="200" /></a>A few years after both Watership
Down and The Lord of the Rings we were presented with Jimmy Murakami’s
adaptation of Raymond Briggs’ graphic novel When The Wind Blows. This was back
in an age where the fear of nuclear war felt omnipresent and when films like
the grim (but unanimated) Threads would be shown in schools up and down the
country as educational pieces. Set in rural Sussex, When The Wind Blows presents
us with a naïve elderly couple who can readily be described as quaint in their
approach to the oncoming destruction (one scene has the wife, Hilda, rushing to
get the washing in as the three minute warning sounds). There is almost a charm
to the film, as much as there can be for one dealing with nuclear holocaust,
filmed in similar style to the likes of The Snowman and Father Christmas (both
Briggs again with the former also directed by Murakami). Surprisingly, When The
Wind Blows carries a PG rating in spite of the stark reality of radiation
sickness and the inevitability of the storyline. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Nuclear war is also the subject
of Peter and Joan Foldes' short animation from 1956 A Short Vision. In a little
over six minutes we are given a brutal, bleak, matter-of-fact depiction of what
happens when the bomb drops: “Their leaders looked up, their wise men looked
up, but it was too late.” Originally funded by a BFI Development Fund, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkhNED3-mnI" target="_blank">A Short Vision can be found online as part of the BFI National Archive</a>. And as we’re
discussing war films, let’s give a little nod to Ray Harryhausen who was chief
animator on Tulips Shall Grow (1942), a short animated film set in Holland. A
Dutch boy and girl’s lives are ruined when Nazi-like creatures called
Screwballs lay waste to their land but redemption is on hand. If we were to
focus more on science fiction and fantasy then a whole section could be given
up to the late, great Harryhausen who has rightly inspired and awed generations
of cinema-goers and filmmakers alike. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Speaking of science fiction, before
we move up the age ratings, it would be remise not to mention the work of René
Laloux. Back in 1973 he presented us with La Planète Sauvage (The Fantastic
Planet), a joint French/Czechoslovakian production. A film about oppression,
slavery and revolt with the humans (Oms) captive to their giant masters (the
Draags) on the planet Ygam. The film won the special jury prize at Cannes in
the year of its release. Perhaps lesser known is Laloux’s Franco-Hungarian film
called Les Maîtres du Temps (Time Masters) based on a novel by Stefan Wul and released
in 1982. French comic book artist Mœbius (who people will also know from his
work for Alien, Tron and The Abyss) provides the visuals for this clever futuristic
science fiction film which has some reasonably dark scenes for a children’s
film. Both films have stunning visuals which are worth the entrance price
alone.</div>
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So, what about the non-PG market?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Michael Gornick’s Creepshow 2
from 1987, a mixture of Stephen King’s works and George A. Romero’s screenplay,
brings us a trilogy of live action tales with animated interludes which follow
young Billy alongside Tom Savini’s The Creep though these pieces total little
more than six minutes of the film’s running time. Creepshow 2’s animation team
featured the talents of Rick Catizone, Gary Hartle and Phil Wilson. Tim
Burton’s Beetlejuice from 1988 brought us stop-motion animation sandworms
developed by Doug Beswick who was also involved with Evil Dead 2, where he
provided the stop-motion animation to bring to life Linda’s dancing corpse, as
well as a host of many more films everyone will be hugely familiar with.
Beetlejuice itself went on to spawn its own animated series running from 1989 –
1991 with an eye-popping 94 episodes as well as a video game and Burton clearly
continued with using animation in later films (see our list of children’s films
earlier).<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sticking with stop-motion, let’s
take a moment to look at the incredible work of Jan Švankmajer, a Czech
filmmaker and artist. His first theatrical release was a short film in 1964
called The Last Trick with over thirty more shorts and feature length films
made since then. His take on Alice in Wonderland entitled Něco z Alenky (Alice)
is a dark and surreal interpretation of Lewis <o:p></o:p></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC6uONJ5xH5LGPfu564bnsWcvhRqD2-LJxWKGXbSs-S-VdprNmnWE2ea3hUrIn5PIKACPxhcUdUQhJW80H48ceQHykGIchifonMbWo-z-XlnWC88dv2LyPdScPVU47arUQSvrBzYclE2Pa/s1600/Little+Otik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="239" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC6uONJ5xH5LGPfu564bnsWcvhRqD2-LJxWKGXbSs-S-VdprNmnWE2ea3hUrIn5PIKACPxhcUdUQhJW80H48ceQHykGIchifonMbWo-z-XlnWC88dv2LyPdScPVU47arUQSvrBzYclE2Pa/s200/Little+Otik.jpg" width="159" /></a>Carrol’s masterpiece and features
a taxidermed rabbit who leads Alice into misadventures where she meets a whole
gamut of bizarre beasties along the way. I thought it excellent but was more
taken with another of Švankmajer’s films called Otesánek (Little Otik). Little
Otik was made with his wife Eva, as was Alice, and is a glorious example of how
the use of stop-motion animation can work within a film shot in ‘real life’.
Little Otik tells the story of a childless couple who create a child from a
tree stump. However, the child needs feeding and it has a taste for the
family’s neighbours. There is a deliciously dark humour running throughout
Little Otik and Švankmajer does a superb job of creating perhaps the most disturbing
baby since Eraserhead and one you end up rooting for, if you will forgive the
pun, as his demise begins to seem apparent. Both films are to be highly
recommended.<br />
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On to a cruder type of storyline.
In 2009 Rob Zombie gave unto us The Haunted World of El Superbeasto. The blurb
pitches this as ‘a washed-up luchador and a super-spy investigate Nazi zombies,
a nefarious scientist, and a stripper with a Satanic birthmark’. It falls under
the reasonably unique category of ‘adult animated exploitation musical black
comedy horror’. Personally, I only mention it here for a bit of completeness
but if it sounds like your thing then go check it out. Equally, if that does
sound like you then you may wish to view Hell and Back (2015), a Claymation comedy
featuring the vocal talents of Bob Odenkirk, Mila Kunis and Susan Sarandon. A
feature film where two best friends have to rescue their mate who is dragged to
hell. The jokes are puerile and not especially funny though it does feature
some great animation from production company Shadowmachine. It would be good if
both could have taken a leaf from the book of City of Rott (2006). While not
the greatest film ever made, City of Rott is a fun 2D animated zombie feature
which has the feel of an early nineties video game. A pensioner called Fred
braves the hordes of zombies in his town to go and get himself some loafers.
His companion is his metal walker which talks to him in his head and warns him
of danger. This is a work of love from Frank Sudol who was a one man production
machine having written, directed, animated, edited and voiced the entire piece.
At seventy-five minutes it does feel a bit overlong for the storyline but worth
a one-off watch for those seeking something a bit different in the zombie genre
– grab some mates plus some beverages of your choice and you could have some
fun with this splatterfest. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf_wIRqMnugPzVvAMr7DKxzjtrUt6oxJPoFsdKPGpMXEz-pAy19uBnB0Er-Q7hULj0S7xnq5s3DyXa9PsQEeccQEedeJ4y2GqOoX1JhyOjZpQbsAGzmhXIOAyVAnEgnxbl71ZaB_I4J45/s1600/Fears+of+the+Dark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="560" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf_wIRqMnugPzVvAMr7DKxzjtrUt6oxJPoFsdKPGpMXEz-pAy19uBnB0Er-Q7hULj0S7xnq5s3DyXa9PsQEeccQEedeJ4y2GqOoX1JhyOjZpQbsAGzmhXIOAyVAnEgnxbl71ZaB_I4J45/s320/Fears+of+the+Dark.jpg" width="320" /></a>For something more stylish and
chilling then Fear(s) of the Dark (2007) is an excellent French horror
anthology. The film boasts six different directors: Blutch, Charles Burns,
Marie Caillou, Pierre Di Sciullo, Lorenzo Mattotti and Richard McGuire. This mix
of directors gives us different styles in this largely black and white
offering. In the film we meet a man who collected insects as a child, a
Japanese girl bullied by her classmates, a mysterious beast brings death to a
village and a man fleeing a snowstorm seeks safety in a spooky house. All these
stories are interspersed by an aristocrat out hunting with his dogs and the
voice of a woman talking about her fears. Worth seeking out for those who like
a quieter horror and the fifth story is one of the tensest pieces I’ve seen on
screen in a long while.</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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Another anthology film I would
give a nod to is Extraordinary Tales. Raul Garcia (who has worked on the likes
of The Lion King, Hercules and The Hunchback of Notre Dame) brings us a
collection of five stories based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Released in
2015, Extraordinary Tales features the vocal talents of Christopher Lee, Bela
Lugosi (taken from a recording in 1946), Julian Sands, Guillermo del Toro and
Roger Corman. We are treated to The Fall of the House of Usher, The Tell-Tale
Heart, The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar, The Pit and The Pendulum and The
Masque of the Red Death all depicted in differing animation styles. My
favourite was the starkness of The Tell-Tale Heart, drawn in the style of Uruguayan
born Argentine cartoonist Alberto Breccia and narrated by Lugosi. Other
adaptations of The Tell Tale Heart worth highlighting are a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flKOtXC4oyM" target="_blank">version from 1953narrated by the rich tones of James Mason</a> and more recent version from this
decade by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDLLHTdVSgU" target="_blank">German animator Annette Jung</a> which has a dark humour running through
the film. Both are under ten minutes in length and can be found quite readily
online.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGhPIFN3siQmc5qu_o8i8A8CazQ21g71vGmxPviLeB-I8aYmYcIlFHmkGSaja7HEiv7thL4fqliQKMTAyx-ys3HCQvAntVxk4sIXWl1emDscqF_GRXb7vzEGqieghHkp9QlZ3uaz0kejw/s1600/Telltale+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGhPIFN3siQmc5qu_o8i8A8CazQ21g71vGmxPviLeB-I8aYmYcIlFHmkGSaja7HEiv7thL4fqliQKMTAyx-ys3HCQvAntVxk4sIXWl1emDscqF_GRXb7vzEGqieghHkp9QlZ3uaz0kejw/s200/Telltale+heart.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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And it was here my journey ended
for now in my brief foray to find what was out there. At this point I fear that
I have only scratched the surface of what Western animation has to offer to the
cinematic world of horror. There will undoubtedly be films I will kick myself
for missing off this list. I haven’t mentioned Dante’s Inferno: An Animated
Epic made by a mix of US and Japanese studios, I have overlooked the wonderful
‘9’, a delightfully dark science fiction affair about handstitched dolls come
to life in a world destroyed by war between robots and man, and I have completely
failed to mention the animated movies of the Hellboy franchise which I am sure
may be one of the more glaring omissions. This has been a whistle-stop tour and
there will be many others you, as readers, will be aghast have not been listed.
It strikes me that perhaps we should be seeing animation used more readily in
cinema horror releases than we do currently. I think it is a medium which has a
lot to offer. Over the past few weeks I have gazed with glee and awe at some of
the films I have watched, marvelling at the style and imagery to be found
therein. All I hope from this article is that I’ve highlighted a few treasures
people may not have been fully aware of and that maybe there’s an animator or
two reading this who may feel inspired to provide us with some new horrors on
the silver screen. In conclusion, the West has a lot to offer in the world of
animation and horror but it isn’t half hard to track down!<o:p></o:p></div>
Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-55196608386769578392017-10-21T13:05:00.002+01:002017-10-21T13:05:52.405+01:00Come a long, long way....So I didn't win the BFS Award for Best Newcomer but, you know what, I'm not doing too bad. Now being up for the award got me reflecting on where I was a few years back. <br />
<br />
I remember one particular night in bits and pieces, a whole host of people who I barely knew chatting away in a downstairs bar near Tottenham Court Road called The Phoenix. The gathering was a <a href="http://www.britishfantasysociety.org/" target="_blank">British Fantasy Society</a> Open Night at some point in 2013 and I was attending my first one with little more than one short story and some flash fiction smatterings behind me combined with a willingness to chat to most folks. This was me testing the waters, seeing if I could work out how to progress in this writing game.<br />
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Now that evening was a bit of a first and last throw of the dice for me. I was in a slump, sending out short stories to different places and seeing what stuck (which was not a lot back then). During the evening I met <a href="http://www.allenashley.com/" target="_blank">Allen Ashley</a> who is a regular feature at these events and a very nice person too. We got chatting about writing and open submissions and he mentioned '<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Potatoes-Dana-Wright/dp/1909573167/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" target="_blank">Potatoes</a>' an anthology being compiled by <a href="http://terror-tree.co.uk/" target="_blank">Theresa Derwin</a> of Knightwatch Press. The premise was to use a potato as a plot device in your story. I'd seen the call but had not thought too much about subbing anything. That chat with Allen made the anthology stick in my head and the rest, as they say, is history. I crafted a story called The Banshee's Egg and Theresa accepted it as the opening piece to the anthology and I am extremely grateful for that.<br />
<br />
That same night I was grabbed at one point by <a href="http://www.timdry.co.uk/" target="_blank">Tim Dry</a> who had seen me post in the Facebook group for the evening to say I would come along. "Are you Phil?" he asked in his warm tones and then led me over to sit down with a small group of folks who were all lovely. Among them was <a href="http://deanmdrinkelauthor.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Dean M Drinkel</a>: freelance writer and editor. Dean, who was wearing this amazing pair of pointy, red shoes, had published Tim in some of his anthologies and I was encouraged to get Dean's details and see if he'd fancy seeing some of my writing. I dropped Dean some of my stuff via email and a few weeks later he invited me to submit a story for his latest anthology <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Phobophobias-Dean-Drinkel-ebook/dp/B00OYMXMMI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" target="_blank">Phobophobias</a>. I duly did so and came up with There Was An Old Man Who Swallowed a Fly.<br />
<br />
Now why am I taking this little trip down memory lane? Well it's a bit of a reminder for me of how far I feel I have come with my writing. Three years ago, and a couple of times since, I have thought about just giving up on writing. It would certainly free up a lot of valuable time to spend with my family or do other things like sleep! But I am glad I didn't. I've made a load of great friends through the different anthologies I've been involved with since and from going along to varying conventions. And I'm now being approached to write pieces for people rather than chasing down the latest submissions myself. Plus that award nomination.<br />
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Have I a long way to go still with my writing? Of course - a million miles and more but I'm growing as a writer every day. I'm not sure what lies ahead for me but hopefully it will be fun finding out.<br />
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Thanks to all my friends who've said encouraging things along the way. You may not have realised how much those small interactions can change a person's life.<br />
<br />
And if you want to check out some incredible writers who will all have had their own journey and are still travelling along it then here is the list of the <a href="https://www.tor.com/2017/10/01/announcing-the-2017-british-fantasy-award-winners/" target="_blank">BFS Award winners</a>. Go seek out their writing.Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-64455866057404724092017-07-19T21:55:00.000+01:002017-07-19T22:04:24.976+01:00So I only went and got shortlisted for a BFS Best Newcomer award!Okay, so I was a little bit blown away a few days ago - so much so that I forgot to put anything here on the blog (note to self - get better at this blogging malarkey). I went out for an afternoon visit to the cinema with my wife on Friday. Had a great time watching War for the Planet of the Apes. Got back home and checked into Facebook. A load of PMs and notifications. Turns out Becoming David had been shortlisted in the British Fantasy Society's awards for Best Newcomer. Holy crap. A book which I wrote up for such an amazing award.<br />
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Huge thanks to everyone who voted for me and for all the kind words since. You've made a still vaguely youngish bloke really happy.</div>
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And do go check out the talent listed for the awards across all the categories. Such a great time to be a reader: <a href="http://www.britishfantasysociety.org/awards/british-fantasy-awards-2017-shortlists/">http://www.britishfantasysociety.org/awards/british-fantasy-awards-2017-shortlists/</a></div>
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Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-561748216503969082017-07-03T22:15:00.000+01:002017-07-03T22:16:59.771+01:00Anatomy of Monsters launch - Saturday 8 JulyExcited to have my short story The Darkness of our Dreams appearing in Anatomy of Monsters which is edited by Robert Teun and published by Stitched Smile Publications. Each story gives us a take on the birth, or coming into being, of famous monsters like the Phantom of the Opera, the Wolfman and so on. I took a bit of a liberty and decided to go with the birth of nightmares as I figured that is the boogieman which affects us all.<br />
<br />
Really proud to be appearing alongside some of the heavy hitters of the horror genre. Full list of contributors here:<br />
<br />
Ramsey Campbell, Josh Malerman, Gary McMahon, Nicholas Burman-Vince, Brian Hodge, Daniel I Russell, Laura Mauro, Simon Bestwick, Alex Laybourne, Jess Landry, Alisha Jordan, Phil Sloman, Greg Chapman, Carl Jennings, Stephen Chapman<br />
<br />
And a quick note to say Greg Chapman also provides the cover and internal art as well as a story of his own.<br />
<br />
The online launch party is Saturday 8 July and can be found by clicking <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/281818558893069/?acontext=%7B%22ref%22%3A%22106%22%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22null%22%7D" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-24913141546494785572016-12-04T21:42:00.001+00:002016-12-04T21:43:40.057+00:00Never ever settleThe other night I was out at the British Fantasy Society Christmas Social (and a great night it was too). I got chatting with a number of top folks and we got on to the subject of writing as is inevitable at these things.<br />
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I made the following statement (or words to that effect):"I cannot see myself making enough from my writing for it to be anything other than a hobby."<br />
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And in one fell swoop I had settled. It was as easy as that. I had dismissed my dream of being a professional writer as being too hard, the likelihood of me achieving it too astronomically small when you call the maths in to play. This right at the moment when folks are saying some amazing things about the stuff I am putting out there.<br />
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So this is a message for current me and future me (and anyone else who might be in a similar position). NEVER EVER SETTLE.<br />
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I may not make more than my current salary each year through my writing. But then again I might and then some.<br />
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One thing is for certain - the minute you accept that you cannot achieve something then you've created a self-fulfilling prophecy.Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-2401456638901332772016-09-29T19:41:00.001+01:002020-09-01T21:06:45.573+01:00Let's review thatGetting your work noticed in this age of the internet is tough. There's lots of people shouting to be heard so how do you get your work noticed by reviewers and up on their sites. I don't have a magic bullet but as an author who used to be a reviewer I can offer some words which I hope are useful.<br />
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First up, find out who the reviewers in your genre are. I write mainly horror so tend to go to places like Ginger Nuts of Horror, DLS Reviews, British Fantasy Society and so forth (there are loads out there so don't be offended if I haven't mentioned your favourite site - in fact, let me know of your favourite site as I love to discover great reviewers and hear what they are reading).<br />
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Next, have a read of what they review. Does your book fit their preferred genres? If your book is splatterpunk but the site tends towards quieter, more psychological tales then they might not be interested.<br />
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<b>Read the site's review policy!</b> This is really, really important which is why I've put this in bold. Most sites will have them. In fact, here are a few:<br />
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<a href="http://gingernutsofhorror.com/review-policy.html">Ginger Nuts of Horror</a><br />
<a href="http://www.theeloquentpage.co.uk/review-policy-2/">The Eloquent Page</a><br />
<a href="http://www.dlsreviews.com/contact.php">DLS Reviews</a><br />
<a href="http://www.britishfantasysociety.org/bfs-review-teams/">British Fantasy Society</a><br />
<a href="http://kendallreviews.com/review-policy/">Kendall Reviews</a><br />
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These sites get hundreds of requests every month (if not every day). Make the reviewer's life easier by giving them your book in their preferred format and providing the information they are after up front.<br />
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Okay, you've chosen the sites and read their review policies. Next up - sending that all important email to ask if they would be interested in reading your book. Before doing anything now, check you are happy with the book you are sending. Have all the typos been picked up? Has the cover art been sorted? Do you have a link for Amazon or wherever it is being sold from? Do you have a release date? Do you have a succinct blurb to pitch your book? Yes. Excellent! Have one last double check though as you only get one shot at the next piece. Let's crack on.<br />
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Sending the email!<br />
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The email to the reviewer should be short, polite and contain all the information they need which will be detailed in their review policy. Something along the lines of:<br />
Dear (name - and do use their name, it's only polite)<br />
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I hope (reviewer website name) would consider reviewing my book (title) by (name) which is being released (date) by (publisher/being self-published).<br />
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(Book title) tells the tale of (insert that succinct blurb).<br />
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Please find attached (whatever format of book they prefer from their review policy - mobi, epub, etc). I have also attached a cover image for you (saves the reviewer trying to hunt one down) and a link to (insert link to where book can be purchased by those reading the review - by the way, NEVER ASK THE REVIEWER TO BUY YOUR BOOK TO REVIEW IT!!! EVER!).<br />
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Thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy the book.<br />
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Author name<br />
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That's it. If you know the reviewer via social media or in person then personalise it a bit more but other than that you've got all the detail there the reviewer needs.<br />
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Right, so when do you follow up because your review has not gone up yet? Personally, I suggest never or, at the most, once a couple of months later. Keeping nagging the reviewer and you will get noticed for the wrong reasons with the likelihood of your book being reviewed diminishing with each subsequent email.<br />
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And if you get a review. Thank the reviewer (whether negative or positive). They've just provided you with free advertising. Advertising. For free. Pretty good, eh? And sharing their review of your book promotes their site which gets more people reading about your book and all the other books the reviewer has been promoting. That's kind of cool - lots of love of books spreading out all over the place like that. You could even share their reviews of other people's books too to keep spreading all that book related love.<br />
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So, the review itself. One thing not to do if the review is negative is get angry with the reviewer. They've given an opinion. That's all. Which is what you've asked them to do. Reviews will pretty much go one of five ways (there will be exceptions to these five - that's life!):<br />
1) Loved it, oh my god, this was amazing<br />
2) Really enjoyed this, go check it out<br />
3) It was fine but had problems<br />
4) Didn't enjoy this but there were some bits which were okay<br />
5) Really disliked this (my experience is this is the rarest review to get as reviewers, in the main, are not there to trample over people's work and will tend to not review the book especially if it is a new author finding their feet).<br />
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If you get a review which falls into the first three categories then that's great. If you get one which falls into the latter two then read the review a few times and see if there's something there which is useful to improve your writing. Equally, if you find all other reviews are positive except that one then maybe it wasn't to that reviewer's taste this time; a bit like the way some people love coffee creams and others despise them.<br />
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After all that, get back to writing your next book, short story, whatever. And more power to you for doing so.<br />
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Final thing to take away is that most reviewers, unless writing for a national newspaper, are doing this without payment purely because they love reading books and sharing their love of books. They have personal lives which come with all the usual joys and hassles - they are not reading and reviewing books 24/7. Equally, remember that reviewers want to have books to read and if you send them something they enjoy you might have a fan for life.<br />
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All the above is just my thoughts on the whole review process as someone who has been on both sides of the fence as a reviewer and as an author. If you find something here you think rings true then please pinch and copy. If you think I've missed the mark somewhere along the lines then that's all good too. I certainly don't have all the answers and am still learning in this whole writing adventure but the above feels about right for me.<br />
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Love and hugs<br />
<br />
Phil<br />
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<br />Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2100355327187734441.post-46063428201532985842016-09-29T19:32:00.004+01:002016-09-30T16:29:49.358+01:00Becoming David - finally he lives!<span style="font-family: inherit;">Exciting times for me. I have published my first novella and it is with the wonderful Hersham Horror as part of their <a href="http://silenthater.wixsite.com/hersham-horror-books/books-primal-novella-range" target="_blank">Primal Range of novellas</a> alongside Mark West, James Everington, Stephen Bacon and also Marie O'Regan who has her collection out with Hersham.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Becoming-David-Phil-Sloman-ebook/dp/B01J2ANY56" target="_blank">Becoming David</a> is a dark tale about a cannibal and what happens when David comes into his life. You can read the blurb here:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Richard leads a simple, uncomplicated life in the suburbs of London where anonymity is a virtue. His life has a routine. His cleaner visits twice a week and he works out in his basement, where occasionally he kills people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br clear="none" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;" />Everything is as Richard wants it until David enters his life. What happens next changes his whole existence and the lives of those around him. Is he able to trust anything to be true? And will he be able to escape David or will David take over his life completely?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt69mFZA-w8iucGR0UY83mA0mtujNfV3X9OLoz2TKs_7LAATW6MXulVlX3MrWYmmoxJcRllZeS4wWpRXT3sWoCq4EV7GSTm01Okx4R2f7h0RnEshpaZhtY-jWeE2xiiNXRho-2HN0tIC7/s1600/BECOMING-DAVID_COVER_WRAP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt69mFZA-w8iucGR0UY83mA0mtujNfV3X9OLoz2TKs_7LAATW6MXulVlX3MrWYmmoxJcRllZeS4wWpRXT3sWoCq4EV7GSTm01Okx4R2f7h0RnEshpaZhtY-jWeE2xiiNXRho-2HN0tIC7/s320/BECOMING-DAVID_COVER_WRAP.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The artwork for the cover is excellent and undertaken by the talented Neil Williams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There are some great reviews up already and here are a selection of them:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://gingernutsofhorror.com/fiction-reviews/review-becoming-david-by-phil-sloman" target="_blank">Ginger Nuts of Horror</a> - "Becoming David is a powerful novella, it is intelligent, thrilling story that carves its own distinct path in a genre filled with far too many cliched psychos."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.dlsreviews.com/becoming-david.php" target="_blank">DLS Reviews</a> - "What you get with ‘Becoming David’ is a quietly unnerving tale with a thought-provoking purpose. It’s one which sucks you into its stark and meticulous world, only to then shove you down some strange passageways where nothing is quite as black and white as it first appeared."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.thisishorror.co.uk/book-review-becoming-david-by-phil-sloman/" target="_blank">This Is Horror</a> - "He has all the twists and turns of a craftsman with the right tools to construct a great story. His sharp style and gift of building tension within his horror stories makes Sloman a writer worth keeping an eye on in the future."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you fancy having a read then you can grab a copy either in e-book or dead tree format from Amazon <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Becoming-David-Phil-Sloman-ebook/dp/B01J2ANY56" target="_blank">here</a>. </span><br />
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Phil Slomanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12464183612097326811noreply@blogger.com0