Thursday, 21 December 2006

'Cor lummy it's been a while.

So is Jack Frost twisting pretty patterns on your window can you feel the chill and brr of winter well I can abit but then it is cold(obvious-sentence-man joins the Just-ice leauge :P)

Finaly I have my computer up and running thanks to my lovely partner :) so it's important I write another entery into the blog even if it's as freqent as Hialys comet.
The last month and a hlf has been a massive turn around in my life I have met the woman of my dreams,moved out of my parents place into hers/ours,relocatted to a place by the sea*Brighton* and finaly got what I always wanted.
I didn't see it comming nor did I expect things to turn out the way they have...but they did and I am thanking the heavens for the blessings I have recived.

I hope all my readers are doing fantastic and are looking foward to Xmas or whichever festival you are celebrating for this time of yeah.
I am going to my parents for a great christmas but it will be noisy and it will be that time of year when you wished batteries did not exsist.
Silas if you are reading I want to send out a personal Merry Christmas to you and to say sorry I haven't been around as of late but I have now finaly set up and we can contact each other more :).
My writing is doing well I need to finish off a few things and I am also writing a Christmas horror tale that with a little luck will be avaible in audio form via the B.H.F(georgy doing the vocals).
For now that's is the update just wanted everyone to know how amazing my partner is and how much I am looking foward to the bright future we shall have...I am so very happy right now and I hope you guys/gals get the same feelings in your lives as I do.

Bye for a bit

James :)

Wednesday, 1 November 2006

Progress it seems...

Okay first off I am still reviewing the B.H.F horror book but rather than review each tale as I read them I am going to read them all then review them shouldn't be long now :)

That's that done so unto the next bits.

it feels as if progress is being made in my life I mean I still have a crumby job but that isn't really to difficult to change and the way I see it I will have a pretty dull place of work for as long as my writing is part-time.
If I manage to get a little cash from writing it would be brilliant and I am not expecting anything other than personal satisfaction out of writing I mean getting paid elephant sized bags of cash for writing isn't easy.
I am more than happy to be a not to rich writer because I know I would be happier that way than working somewhere with no spare time making okay money but having no time for what brings me joy.

Anyway that's not the real progress in my life what is would be the person who I have recently met her name is Georgy and he comes into my life like a beautifuly combined angel and devil partnership:)
It was totaly unexpected I was just trudging through the leaves of life looking up to see if I could find the sun behind the clouds and their she was arms encasing me in love.
I can feel a clear focus falling over my eyes and new swagger in my step I am growing a little more each day inside with the most lovely warm feelings.
People are capable of powering up others with the ease of an arrow through velvet and Georgys love passed into me with such guile and sublimity I don't think I knew I was hooked until I was. I got someone and that hasn't been something I could say in a long while and I aim to keep it.

All the cold places where I go seem to now thaw the frost without the bite it used to love to numb my heart with more. I have someone to accompany me on the many battles that await me in life...or should I us.

I would also like to mention to my friend Silas that I am sorry about his friends departure but all I will say is that he is stronger in spirit form than anyone can ever be in physical.
He will excel wherever he is now because he is weak no more and I bet right now is delighted with the things he is discovering about...well everything.

Keep warm and well my dear friend.

Sunday, 10 September 2006

Anthony Clarke is Sick (review)

This is the first tale of the B.H.F Horror Stories book and sets the pace with an uneasy chill.
Anthony Clarke wakes up feeling unwell and his feeling are communicate to the reader from the off set creating a sense of mucas filled unhealthy.
Making the reader feel whatever ailment this man has with the use of common themes that play around things we have all had blocked nose,bad head and incessant weakness.
The tale quickly establishes the condition of the main character without over explaining and moving swiftly into advancing the story with natural pleasing pace.
As Anthony moves around his flat you also get the sense that the place hasn't been the most active of homes in quite a while almost as if Anthony has been in his slumber for more than a night.
Infact if it wasn't for the writer later explaining how often the main character did go to work I would be inclined to think that he had been in his house for some considerable time. Festering in his bed and struck down with some powerfully virus. This does however work well when we come to the climax of story of which I shall explain later.
Anthony Clarke then muses about his life a little allowing the reader a small glimpse into his history and how boredom and the numbness of being one of many has seemed initially enter his life and later almost consume him.
The nihilism of an office is cleary communicated in Anthonys thoughts it his clear that the man not only doesn't want to work in his office but feels it is detriment to his very existence.

After the short self reflection Anthony summons the the will to call into work however he is not calling in sick instead he wishes to play a prank.
The writer tells us how Anthony strives to spark life into his work place with simple gestures however when Anthony does get a reaction it is usually one of distain that he does not wish to encounter again.
As a joke our lead character calls his deparment and demands to talk to Anthony Clarke(himself of course).
At first the call is met with a little confusion as the girl at the desk (Debbie) doesn't seem to know if there is such a person in the company.
However then there is a short silence and then a young voice and this is where the chill kicks in. Anthony recognises the voice infact it is too familiar for comfort he recognises at his own from when he was younger.
His mind then tracks back to when he first startd the job and recalls that he received a call very much like this on the same day from a person demanding the same thing.

The disturbing fact causes our lead man to place the phone down and we are left to wonder what exactly are the consqences of this.
To me it appears that the writer has left things open maybe Anthony has called into a parallel universe or it could be that he has gone insane due to the numbness of his life.
There are a few possibilities but the way I read it is that Anthony Clarke has acutely ceased to be he has died possibly in his sleep and of the virus that he supposedly "awoke" from.
Somehow the dead ghost of Anthony called his younger self somehow breaking all barriers of time and physics with the untamed rules of the supernatural.
Of course this is just my interpretation of the events in the tale however what I do know is that the ending is far more than it seems and presents far more chilling question than we care to ask.

Review by:

James Stanger

Tuesday, 29 August 2006

It's all worth it.....

Yes that's right all the doubts and worry coupled with fear of faliure it's all worth going through when you manage to produce something that is someway towards worthy.
To have my story included in the this book makes me feel on top of the world because I am amoungst writers of great talent who know what ideas are and what makes for a chilling yarn.

Not only does this make me feel like I have made a personal break through but it begs me to write more as I feel that there is a solid reason to carry on with writing.
Not only this but I have had some great things said about my tale too which I never even thought could be said about it.
Aside from my input which I have spoken about a lot already there are some superb writers in this short story collection and I will write a review of each tale as I read them and put the review up on this blog so you can get a taste for what treats are in store for you if you wish to pick up a copy of it(and you will be satisfied if you do so).

However because I am feeling self-indulgent this once and also due to the fact this my blog I just wanted to add a couple of things some important British Horror freinds of mine have said to me about what I wrote:

Chris(Tsar of the British Horror Forum and talented writer)

And James' story... well. I'm so happy that people are enjoying it. When I read it I thought it had a strange kind of power all of its own - there's an anger there which really leaps off the page, and ideas which get under your skin. I think I'm right in saying it was his first attempt at a short story too - perhaps it'll be James who beats us all to the punch and gets a publishing deal?

Darrel Buxton(The true source of British hororr fil information EVER and talented writier)

Just read 'Beggar's Banquet' this evening, having saved it til last, and found it to be a really creepy, squalid little piece of modern horror. I'd go so far as to say that it's also the most 'British' story in the whole collection - despite echoes of Jeffrey Dahmer, you set the city scene so well, and encapsulate the world of the homeless with such accuracy, that it's somehow difficult to imagine this tale taking place in a foreign setting. The lives of the shabby unfortunates at the centre of the tale work as a microcosm of a much greater social problem (the expansion of the story for the final paragraphs therefore working perfectly). I could virtually feel my feet sticking to the carpet in Calvin's flat, and the insect population of the place almost take on a weird character all of their own. Very daring of you to incorporate a flashback in the middle too! (Mart's frantic, half-remembered recollection of his abusive father).

I know you'll take it as a compliment if I say this would have made a really great episode of the 'Urban Gothic' t.v. show.

Okay you all must be board with my self-promoting by now so I will make up for it in the next couple of days by showing you how good the other tales are :)

Thursday, 27 July 2006

Something about today....

Things can change drasticly in a matter of hours today feels just bleak I am left feeling pretty used up and despite advice from my physcoligist about taking control of your own life it really feels as if that isn't enough.

Early this week I managed to get part time work in a clothes shop near me tere isn't a lot of hours on my basic contract infact I am contrcted to one day a week which is bare minium by anybodys standards.
The problem is that this is all I could get because there just wasn't the vacneys to take and if I am turthful I was lucky to get even that.
The problem is it's terible money and the boss really doesn't care for anything apart from standing around watching you like a hawk making sure you never cease working.

It's left me feeling empty inside as I have worked all my life from the age of 15 (now 27) and only ever not worked due to depression.
So now I am making do with a really pathetic low job which leaves me wondering what was the point of working hard in the past if all my efforts accumliate to this.
When I tell people about the fact I actuley have gained employment thier first reaction is happines then when I tell them the kind of work I do and what the hours I am doing they look really dissapointed in me.

I was speaking to my sister to see what she says and she told me that there really isn't an alturntive and this is really what I will have to do for work unless I have a skill or am inteligent to get a better job.
I felt frustrated and asked what was the point in carrying on breaking your back for nothing she replied telling me we all need money to survive.

That's a deffenate truth.

I told I would rather take a job where your boss is a little more easy going even if the money wasn't great(at the moment I have a dictator boss with lousy money).
I said why don't I just become a roadswepper and not bother about a higher paid job where the stresses obviously effect me...there was no reply.

The problem is I don't think I handle pressure well and let's face it a well paid job has pressure ...otherwise it won't be well paid.
I thought about it for a while and a few of my dreams died I don't know if this is realism finaly sinking in but I used to think if you wanted something bad enough you could get it.
I think I am realising how limited my skills and talents are it feels like my heart just broke but maybe this is real life.

One thing is for sure that no matter what you do no matter how far you go it's never good enough even if you do better than somebody else in life that person still thinks you have failed.

This song below actuley demonstartes my frustration and angry about living up to the world...
So much to say so little time for me, to explain the way I feel
You only see, things the way you want to see them
It makes sense to you all these things you do
You’ve got it all figured out while everyone is confused
How do you do it? (how do it?)
In your mind I'm just blind
You're right all of the time
If I think for myself, I guess I'm way out of line
I'm not who you are
I'm so sorry (im so sorry)

I can't do anything right (right)
You don't know me, stay out of my life (life)
Kick me while I'm down, I want you to
I can't be like you
Don't want to be like you

I can't do anything right
You don't know me, stay out of my life
Kick me while I'm down, I want you to
I can't be like you
Be like you

No matter what I do it's never good enough
I give all that is me; still it's never enough
So, why try? I give up.
What does it feel like to be in your shoes
And walk over everyone like you do?
Tear me down again, I want you to. (want you to)
You're lovely, so beautiful and
You're perfect in every way.
Your interior rusted and I'm so disgusted
Can't trust it. You're busted.

I can't do anything right
You don't know me, stay out of my life
Kick me while I'm down, I want you to
I can't be like you
Don't want to be like you

I can't do anything right
You don't know me, stay out of my life
Kick me while I'm down, I want you to
I can't be like you
Be like you

I can't do anything right (repeat)

Is that it?

Wednesday, 26 July 2006

Finaly published

It finaly happened I have a story in print for the first time but it still doesn't feel like it has actuley happened until I have got my hands on a copy of it.
It's a story that has been finished for a while now and I made an effort to copy it up on computer and see if I could get it included in this short story collection.

I was plesently suprised that it was accpeted not being the biggest fan of my own work but then your always your own biggest critic.
It's a book that is going to be should online and it looks as if there is going to be a follow up collection to this current one so I can now start putting pen to papaer and write up another story now.
So far this is the most important achivement this year it's a leap foward because my writing is so important to me to take that first step in actuley getting it out there for people to read makes me smile.

I have actuley landed a part time job as well but this isn't such a great achivement even if I am glad I have got some paid work now.
It's a pretty meanial job the problem is I met an old school friend who told me that he could get me a good sales job with good money so I don't really know what to do (I detest sales).

This blog addition is irnoicaly dull for such exciting news but I guess I am being more mechinical with my writing today rather than creative.

Have a good day now ;)

Friday, 23 June 2006

I'll carry you...

This to a friend of mine called Silas who has experenced a targic loss recently and finds himself in a time of dampend spirits and reflection.
I just wish to say my strengh goes out to you to get you through this difficult time but be sure to know it won't be like this for too long.

This is just the intense part of loss something that everyone finds unbearable at times and unwilling to face.
..but it's okay it's alright because it's what humans do you are coping in the way you know how and nobody has a mgic way to do things.
The only reason why it feels so bad is because the person you lost was such a good person and ment so much to you.
Her influence and goodness lives on inside your heart which means she has not gone but still sharing her love with and others through you and the things you do and say.

People are fragile you and I are fragile and times such as these we realise what that actuley means. You see that is good because that means your real and normal like you should be.

Also remeber this the only thing to come out of darkness is light and it always does just let it happen and the rest will follow.

To my dear friend Silas.

Tuesday, 20 June 2006

Since I was 14.....

Above you will see a scanned image of a human brain of someone with the condition of epilepsy (not mine) the colours make it look pretty spectacular but the condition itself is acutely mysterious.

First of all I have to point out that doctors today are still unsure as to the real cause of epilepsy there are theories as to what could be the reason such as:

-Head injury

-Serious brain infections, such as meningitis,scar tissue on the brain

-Brain tumors

-Brain surgery


-Alzheimer's disease or other diseases that change the brains structure
Any condition that keeps blood or oxygen from getting to the brain (e.g. hardening of the arteries)

-Alcohol or drug abuse

-Brain injury during fetal development

-Trauma during birth (such as lack of oxygen).

-High fever (in children)

-Certain medications

As you can tell there a host of possibilities but nobody acutely knows or can pin point a cause at least not yet anyway.
Since I was 14 I have suffered from epilepsy one chilly winter morning I was in school and out playing football with friends at breaktime and without warning I blacked out.
I remember waking up with a crowd of people around me mostly friends and some teachers too I didn't know where I was and the I could only sense things like smells and the taste of my own blood in my mouth.
It caused quite a sensation and thanks to the help of some really good friends of mine an ambulance came in short time.
I felt as if something important had happened to me but I could tell what or why I found it impossible to walk.

It was as if I had been blasted with a paralyzing ray of somekind I had no energy,my tongue was painful because I bite down hard onto it and all I wanted to do was sleep.
I was checked over at hospital and told that this was an epileptic fit and it was possible this could be my one and only siezue.

Well around two years passed and I had been clear of any such complications the notion of me suffering from such a condition had all but evaporated.
Until one day in December where I had my second fit it was pretty nasty and I scared my little brother soo much he hid under the table(I must have looked like a wild man).

Shortly after this I was told by my specialist to have a brain scan the results revealed I had some excess electrical brain activity that indicated I had epilepsy.
basically when you have a fit you brain goes through something of an electrical storm and due to the complicate nature of the neurons in the brain this causes turmoil.
The brain then shuts down much like a computer does when it crashes and then reboots after a time setting up itself to work properly once more.

A lot has happened between when I was first diagnosed at 16 and now 27 some terrifying some character building but I am still here and epilepsy is one condition where doctors can offer a lot of help for you.
My medication (touch wood) is working very well I have even got to the point that when I get enough money together I can take driving lessons.

So it was strange when a friend of mine told me I reminded him of a character Simon from my favarourite book Lord Of The Flies.
Simon is the character that discovers the pigs head on a spear and the shock causes him to have an epileptic seizue.
In the book he as seen as some type of prophet figure claiming that the pig is a beast due to his hallucinations whilst having a siezue.
It was strange as my friend didn't take this into account and it was the most bizarre comment to make me smile I have had in a long time.

There is always something to learn about yourself if you look hard enough and if you look for the good things and take into account the bad with the same humble demeanor you shall be fine :)

Sunday, 18 June 2006

Fun and regret

Last night was fun but I got a little carrried away with someone who is VERY attached to a VERY good friend of mine.
I woke up this morning with various memories of the night before flooding back to me and one particular moment stung me like an angry hornet.


Deffently one of those "I wish I didn't do that" moment the major reason wasn't so much the drink as being single for so long.
I don't really trust come on's from girls all to much and as freindly as I am I really become paranoid when I think someone likes me.
My friends girlfreind was really effectionate towards me a couple of nights ago and last night just as much.
I made a pass at her and she suddenly stopped and said "heeeey" it felt as if I just crashed into the side of a lorry and went head first through the windscreen.

I felt dirty,guilty and such a horrible bastard she is a great friend of mine and I have known her guy for ages and he is a close friend too.
In a moment of madness it seemed as if I didn't care about all that and just went and done something really dumb.
It's not an excuse just when someone tells you that your really attractive and hugs and gives you lot's of little kisses you tend read things even if you shouldn't and you should riegn in those thoughts.

Strange thing is it was a fantastic night it was the morning after that really hurt I got a phone call from the friend of mine who is involved with that girl he seemed as happy as he ever was and asked me to join them at the river side for a few drinks.
I couldn't go and actuley thought it was wise to let the dust settle because I knew she would be there.

However come Tuesday I am seeing all my friends again and I am worried how she will react when she see's me next.
I can be such a horse's arse when I put my mind in a lower gear I hope to God things will wash over and this can be forgoten about as quickly as possible.

...Ironicly I have actuley immortilised this moment by putting it in my blog...hmmm...maybe I will laugh about it later...I hope.

Thursday, 11 May 2006

A-Team fight scenes

Okay so this isn't dark,moody and reflective so in that case I should acutely get people reading this post hoho ;)

I am up at the early hours as usual(this time I am working on my horror short stories however:) ) and on the box is the A-Team.
Right I looked up at the T.V screen for a few seconds to see the MOST inept bunch of crooks on the face of the planet.

First of all Murdoch knocks-out a large black junk yard worker by slamming a car door in his stomach???
He proceeds to creep along the roof tops of wrecked cars to aid his fellow A-Teamers who are being held at gun point.
The criminals all seem to be as intelligent as a pork chop and not a well seasoned one at that. Anyway when Murdoch gets to the edge of the last junked out car he says "Okay pilgrims put down yer irons.." Or words to that effect(oh and it's funny how in some parts of England being called an iron is a snide way of being called homosexual HAHA!)

Well as usual the criminals all look up in unison mouths gaping which leads to the most bizarre fight scene I have seen in ages...Basically like this:

Hannibal (40/50 years old) leaps vertical up towards the head crook which cuts to a scene of him colliding into the guy like a begalise tiger???

B.A bonks a small mustachio man on the head and the guy tumbles to the floor as if he was made of play doh???

.....And that annoying passionless TWAT Face has the most effeminate fisty cuffs with another junk yard felon. All the while smiling his porcelain grin and making sure the crook doesn't hit him in the face before disposing of the said naughty fellow.

The thing that annoys me is this programme was suppose to evoke unruly and violent behavior into me as a kid and nearly got banned from I.T.V as a result.
All I have to say is if the govenment at that time saw a apocalyptic future of all conflict between man choreographed by Wayne sleep then yes maybe the A-Team would have worried you.
However if that vision of a nightmarish future has never caused you to lose any sleep(not Wayne this time) then you may see my point.

Wednesday, 19 April 2006

Dark Motorways and long dead Motocades

If a car drove down a motorway with out streetlights and without headlights. If the driver was cloaked in darkness not being able to see backwards forwards or sideways would he/she be making progress.

Would the road be leading anywhere or is it a strech of endless tarmac where the journey only ends when the car runs out of fuel.
Should the person turn around and go back to look for a turning he missed or is it impossible to do,Perhaps all they can remember was one straight road and only the illusion of alternative routes.
Could you even hear the engine it could be roaring like a pride of lions but would it be heard by a single living sole.

Just imagine this person gets out the car pulls up at the laybye and waits if his appointment was with bleak nothingness he would be early.
The driver sits down on the verge and looks...Examines tire tracks and barriers made filthy through fumes.
Listen and you too can hear the specters of the past the old traffic jams the bleating horns of angry vehicles. All gone now all away from here this driver has missed it all I think this driver whomever they may be couldn't take the struggle. They felt the rigid motorcade and furious jaw snapping people were too much to take.

However they are all somewhere finally in a place who knows where but you can be sure there is light there and warmth and company.
This driver swapped all this in preference for the cold dark night the lightless void too which he alone owned...Or did it own the driver.

The sun had set and died here the night pushing it down and ripping it away from the sky so the driver walked back to the car.
Sat down and thought,eyes closed the driver flicked a switched one that failed time after time praying and sweating chilling tears from the skin the switch was slowly turned again.

This time not only did the engine growl and thunder against the unfriendly twilight but the headlights came on ...The driver gasped ...Crying shocked something had happened.

Something force him to carry on...To drive forward and refuse to turn the head back...To eat the road up with the vehicles tires.
The driver visualized a destination ...One with light,warmth and people.....And if the lights can be turned on so can the destination.

Monday, 10 April 2006

Off the Cuff Blood...

Right down below is a straight off the cuff peice of writing that has no direction or real purpose other than to see where my thoughts go and to see how it turns out on text :)

Battling from the shore he fought off hordes of the armoued demons. The tide raging behind him the froth and foam the sea bit the shore with a toothless mouth but rabid bite.

The masked invaders feet sunk in the wet sands as he trudged to the mainlaand crushing the swarming demons like soo man tin cans.
Reacing soild his progress became labourd and slow striking his sword into the soil to gain balance and purchase into the vile land.
The demons slain he viewed his horizen the dark red skies hummed with malice and war the struggle had only just began and maybe he was too late.

Even with his might may not be enough to even the odds this clash of forces,this final pursuit of destiny may have already been lost yet still the warrior continued.
He must the people of this diseased soild had activated his exsistance tharwed him from his glacial rest.
Stood tall upon the hill side he noticed to the west the burning fortresses the smoke bellowed a smog of roasting flesh and crushed machinery.
East held little promise of hope the legions of skeletal buzzards massed upon any living and free thinking being and tore them to shreds,eating,ripping.

The warrior progressed north the great grey plains of dead grass lay ahead and so did the forces breed to stop him those three deadly creations that could only be made but not born due to thier diabolical darkness.
The warrior roared into the raw crimson heavens he cried for rain to aid him and it came hard and fast to quell the fires and aid the populas of this dying terrian.

This quest had only started and he must finish it NOW he must furfil the pact he made thousands of years ago, A pact sealed by spitirt and will....

Okay...that started off in my head as just a vision of something stroming a shore battling turned into something else along the way :)..I don't have clue if it will ever be used.

Thursday, 6 April 2006

A bloody pulp

Before I was born...well the early 1970's there was a writer called James Herbet he written a book called The Rats which is now infamous it's abilty to make the skin crawl and has probably made a lot of money for rent-o-kill.
James Herbet's book was a massive succsess world wide selling millons of copies and it still sell strong to this very day.

Now he started out writing a type of horror called Pulp horror the kind of stuff that many fans of the U.S comic E.C would recognise.
Pulp horror is basicly for entertainmentit plenty of ghastly deeds,a troff full of gore and some dirty sex.
It's view as the most low brow form of horror litriture around people often disregaurd it as badly written and horribly concived.
I freely admit that after The Rats had been set upon the public there were many hack writers scribbling out paper backs with the promise of a quick few quid.
The problem is that amongst the slew of hacks and wittles scribes there were writers with obvious talent and love for the genre.

My foavourite pulp horror writer of all time is Guy N.Smith a man who never pretneded he wasn't in it for the money but he was also a writer with tremendious indsutry and knowledge of what the pblic wanted to read.
His most famous books were and still are his Crab nasties the basic premise being that humans are being attacked by a legion of well orginised and blood thirsty giant crabs.

...with a plot like that how can you not have fun reading his stuff since then Guy N.Smith has championed the pulp genre by writing over 80 titles that contain a host of grisley monstrousities and diabolical jernoys.
It has been said that one of his more famous works The Sucking Pit is THE ultimate pulp horror paperback even Stephen King himself endorse the work.

I have almost all of Guy N.Smiths books(they take up a lot of shelf space I can tell you) but I haven't got around to reading this one yet(currently reading Doomflight) so maybe I should.
So what I would say to anyone who wants to read the trashy horror books in todays supposedly high-brow world is that do it it's fun and you will find some extremely well written peices.
Also just like any diet reading is no different as long as you balance pulp horror with other works like Lord of The Flies,The Wasp Factory,I Am Legend won't go far wrong.

Wednesday, 5 April 2006

Money spiders or Ants?

Have you ever been in the kitchen or bathroom and see that little black crawling speck pass your eyes?

The chances are it was from the corner of your eye and you didn't get to see it properly. So you recheck because you thought you saw a money spider and we all know the folklore behind a money spider.

You gently pick it up betwein finger and thumb and rotate it around your head three times. If you do this it is said fourtune comes your way in the finacial sense I try not to be trapped by superstition but I afford to pass up magik ;)
I find that when I find a money spider or someone else does it brings a smile and a giggle to thier faces and a sense that it was lucky to find such a darling little spider.

However sometimes when you do look again from the corner of your eye it turns out just to be a normal black ant and you snear or sigh in dissapointment.
I mean there are thousands,Millions,Billons of ants thier not special ...thier all the same not magical like the money spider.
They don't offer the possiblity of unearned riches ants arn't omens they don't even weave webs to eat the flies that land on your dinner.

The ant is ignored becuase it's just like all the other mindless drones of other worker ants mindlessly working it's life away for it's queen.
One of of one-hundred...of a thousand..a million...legion!

When you look at the world and you see the queens and kings infront of the flash of cameras courted by the many who ethier admire them or in hope that being in proxy with them some of the queens/kings magik may rub off on them.
When you think and look in the mirror you can't help but feel like the ant you passed by in the kitchen.

It's a cliche but with out the black ant The Queen would starve and perish and you may be a black ant but you hold much more power than you will ever know.

Tuesday, 4 April 2006

From Atoms To Anthologies

If there is something that really gets under my skin above all else then it's procrastination leavin it 'till tomorrow in other words.
I do this a lot when it comes to writing and I am not going to even try to foll people that I am an industrious writer because that would be a lie and why lie.
I have pads upon pads of ideas and notes story formulas that I to turn into something worth while.
I want to draw in all the gunge of ideas and thought process's on papaer and create something great,something worthy for a few people to read.

Looking through old ideas I see where I fall foul to the deamons of leathargy you see an idea that was once hot can so easily grow cold and decay.
A good writer should keep the idea bruning with enthusiam and drive the problem is I lack patenace and want things to happen automaticly.
This is not a good trait for a writer to have because the nitty gritty of doing your work is basicly about sitting doing and doing it.
I suppose if you want something more active you should be a would cutter...the problem there is I can't cut wood and I if I could I would probably stand there day dreaming about being a writer.



The other draw back is my technical English isn't too good ethier the morse estute may notice this as your read(if you read) this blog I hope my writing is at least bearable.
So when I write a first draft I have to edit the thing about four or five times. Even then when I pass it on to someine else it's will still have mistakes it's almost like buying a t-shirt with dirt on it already.
So as you can guess I do get passed over as being unitelligent or just not worth while.
I posted a short story on a Horror Forum a while back and I was in such a rush to get it done I only put it through the spell check ONCE.
For me that's a diabolical error and my work was hideously slated from one memebr inparticular.
I fired back at the critisim at first but then when I taken time to rethink my actions I found it wasn't the story that let me down but my lack of forsight.
Well I know better now and my skin has become a little thicker through the experence and I think it will teach me to better writing practice for the future.
A the present moment I am set to meet my younger brother in the libary up the road we are going to talk through some ideas for a comdey script.
It's just fun but I think it will do me good as getting caught in a cycle of inactivity for too long degrades you and your talent.

If I can just get the atoms of my ideas to merge into something I may one day create an's a theory and I want to at least have a crack at it .