Oh lord, I really wrote that...

"Nobody's perfect." It's a very common phrase. It's a joke, an excuse, a trope and a cliché. But it's also an unfortunate, literal fact. Personally, I dislike perfection. I think of it only as an unobtainable abstract. Leaders creating a "perfect" society, creatives striving for that "perfect" project, people trying to lead "perfect" lives. Aiming for perfection is an easy recipe for inferiority complexes.

At the same time, maybe try not to make colossal mistakes which undermine what you're trying to do. Let's start this off with what triggered these thoughts. The use of the word "female" as a noun. It's actively insulting, especially today, and it makes reading some pieces of fiction more difficult unless you put in a metric tone of cultural relativism or some hefty world-building that explains why they aren't using some other noun to describe an entire gender. This is present in Mass Effect because obviously 'woman' can't be applied to non-human non-male members of a society, right? Except when the writers slip and do use that, and wouldn't translation devices approximate for humans so that genders would be described using their own words--and I'll save this for November.

The mainspring is that Emily Inkpen made a point about men who use "female" as a noun. I assume in their everyday speech and writing. She, with impressive restraint, told them to get off her feed and unfollow her as she didn't have the time. I thoroughly understand, using "female" as a noun is just insulting. But then, a penny dropped. I have read some older literature, and as was raised during a recent discussion for an in-progress project related to this event here, I let some of my archaic inspiration leak into how the characters were talking. And I checked: had I used "female" as a noun? And...well, the results were slightly mixed. More usually I realised I'd been using the word "female" as an adjective, but sometimes it did seemingly slip. I haven't checked to see whether I was doing it to help characterise the person in the writing, but regardless the point stands.

For those who don't get what I've been going on about, let me define noun and adjective as simply as I can, as I'm by no means an expert in the technical side of language. A noun is a word used to refer to something, that being an object or a named person or a location in a sentence. So "noun went to noun" or "have you seen noun". There is the further distinction between common and proper nouns. For proper nouns, think of all the esoteric terminology in fantasy and sci-fi. Meanwhile, an adjective is a word which defines a noun, so "an adjective noun" or "out with that adjective noun", or even "noun, adjective, did this three times".

This was something else Emily Inkpen brought up on a reply through one of her socials, where she was pretty angry at the people trying to defend the use of "female" as a noun, probably without realising that the examples being used were technically "female" being used as an adjective. As in "a female voice", or a "female creature". In the Cluster Cycle, I was faced with the unenviable task of creating three other distinctly not-human species for humans to interact with, and I didn't want to use the terms "man" and "woman" to refer to their traditional genders. Mostly because to me, those words are strongly linked with the word "human".

Now, to deliberately use "female" as a noun is insulting and degrading. One might use it in a character's dialogue to signal as such. One shouldn't use it willy-nilly in their own speech, or their prose description, or whatever else. So when I came across those points, I felt more than a little embarrassed. I'll have to be extra careful going forward, because I know I might end up slipping again. I might write something unintentionally insulting and belittling. And today, with many people on a hair trigger, I need to be more aware of that.

I can take a small comfort in the fact that when double-checking, I found that I generally used both "male" and "female" as adjectives, which seems acceptable. I don't know if there's been any update on that, because not only are cultural taboos changing at lightspeed these days, but English is an inherently difficult language because it's both extremely gendered and gender-neutral enough that it causes problems. It's not like French, German, Japanese, Chinese, and dozens of other languages where gender is baked into words and grammar.

All I can do is remember that before it became an excuse and a cliché, the phrase "Nobody's perfect" had a real meaning. And while I can't be perfect, I can try not to be an insensitive author.

My first awards ceremony (and my first award....ever)

So, on Thursday 24 July 2025, I attended my very first awards ceremony; the Pen to Print Awards 2025. It took place in the Learning Centre in Barking, a town on the outskirts of London. And I had enough fun there that I feel the need to dedicate this week's blogpost to it. I'll recall as much as I can, but apologies if I forget some names.

A small introduction may be warranted. Pen to Print is a publicly-funded initiative which effectively sponsors writers and creatives who are residents of the UK. Their goal is to foster and expose new talent, be that in poetry or prose, accepting fiction and opinion pieces for their magazine, and of course hosting their awards for competitions they run. They have been going for close to a decade at this point, and their awards are varied and offer genuine exposure. The full list of winners and runners-up can be found here on Pen to Print's Instagram. This post is more of an emotive impression from an audience member.

The event that I attended on Thursday took place in a medium-sized conference room on the building's second floor, and while it was very hot, it was nice meeting fellow writers and publishers, and talking shop about aspects of publishing and writing. I was sure it would be an enjoyable evening regardless of what happened regarding me personally. At 7 PM, the ceremony started, with an opening speech from the main organizer Lena Smith, and from the sitting mayor of Barking and Daganham, Princess Bright. The first event was a special "Staff Writing/Poetry Award" as the organizers of the event weren't allowed to participate but it was felt that something should be done for them. The winner was Mazedda Bellevue for "Seasons Of Life", with the runner-up being Samiul Kayes for "Echoes Of Gaza". For the major awards after this, many of them were announced in a semi-joking manner using a golden envelope. It brought a chuckle to everyone, considering how meme-worthy the Oscars have become.

Then came two Speech And Drama performances on either side of the second award, which I'll get to at the end of this piece. Basically, we were given the performances, which were basically a monologue of sorts with some mild dramatization, then we were given paper slips to vote on which we preferred between Liyana Abhram's poem "A Walk In The Woods", and the monologue "News from France" by Julian Walker. Both were lots of fun to listen to. Next was the "Michael Feld Award", named for a local notary and patron of the arts, which was aimed at supporting the work of young people. There were two nominees; Key Stage 2 student Sanjana Arunkumar with "Rumble And Grumble" (which was a fun and funny little skit) and Key Stage 3 student Lurmaya Mathews with the poem "Chaos" (a visceral dramatization of what felt like a massive anxiety attack). "Chaos" proved the overall winner.

Then came the intermission, with snacks and drinks and talk. After that, and some minor drama with the mislaying of the voting bag, we were able to cast our votes. Liyana Abhram proved the winner, with a narrow margin that required a recount to make sure of the result. Then came the "Adventurous Voices" competition, which was split across three age groups and featured writing on a particular theme. There were nearly a dozen entrants who got some form of recognition on that stage. The winners in this category Daisy Higgins with "Elara And The Enchanted Rainforest!" in the Primary School category, Musfira Sharif for "Who Am I?" in the Secondary School category, and Patrick Blosse for "Off The Beaten Path" in the Adult category. All great pieces to hear.

For most of these that weren't orated on the platform, we got an audio sample of the winning pieces, which was more than incredible to listen to. The "Portry" award was given to Gillian Davies with "When The Streetlights Blinked To Life", a piece that can best be described as a nostalgic trip through pre-internet teenage urban life. Truly nostalgic. For the "Short Story" award, the winner was Lianne Warr with "Mouse", and...wow. The sample for that was positively chilling to listen to.

Closing out the ceremony was the Book Challenge awards. Basically a challenge to write a full novel in twelve months, with further mentoring and consultation as part of the prize. As it was ongoing, they instead had finalists appear, giving them awards for their efforts. The finalists were The Revenge Pact by Yana Yanovic, Misery Loves Company by Gulnaz Abdullah, Vigilantes Anonymous by Nick Burdett, The Fisherman's Daughter by Lee James Broadwood, and Elderwood by Ruth Frendo. There were no samples, but it was a nice way to round things off with the awards. The ceremony closed at around 9 PM with a final message from Saima Ashraf, including a poetic message relating to the current times of discord and fear being fostered by authorities the world over.

But, and I've saved this for last not to deprive anyone else of their deserved recognition, I was also the recipient of an award. All the way back in March, I submitted an audio play I'd created, "The Angry House", to their Audio Play Competition, which was being done in association with Alternative Stories. You may know them for Emily Inkpen's Dex Legacy series alongside other creations. It was just something I threw together in a brief amount of time, and I'll probably be able to share more about it later. But, in a moment that left me genuinely speechless, I won their award. And part of the prize is that "The Angry House" is going to be produced as a full audio play. The interval and the immediate aftermath before I returned to my hotel was both strange and...oddly euphoric. The nitty-gritty business aspect of what comes next starts after today, but for now I feel like I've arrived in a sense.

This is still a start, but a start is better than nothing. And it's likely the same for everyone else who has gotten exposure and validation through these awards.

This is overwhelming in and of itself, and it's taken me till today for it to truly sink in and for me to find the words to express it. There's nothing like the thrill of getting your first award, especially when you're sure you won't get it. I just froze momentarily when the words "Thomas Wrightson for The Angry House" were read out by Councillor Bright, and I had a photo taken with the award and the mayor. And then, remaining on stage by choice, I heard an audio sample created by Chris Gregory and Emily Inkpen of Alternative Stories, demonstrating a part of what would eventually become...a thing that everyone can listen to. It's an indescribable sensation, hearing your words for the first time being spoken by someone other than you. I imagine that's also how many of the other winners felt.

It may be a ways to go there if you live in distant parts like I do, but it's also worth it if you can. It's a fun event, with a chance to hear great pieces of work across a variety of genres, and perhaps begin either your journey outright, or the next part of it. Here's to the future, whatever that may hold. And congratulations and best to all those who submitted, and all those who have seen this recognition on an evening I won't soon forget.

Author Talks S3 E3: The Glorified Dystopia

So. This was a topic that came to mind due to the...everything that's happening. This episode of my one-person podcast looks at a phenomenon that's been going on for the last several decades; turning what are actually truly terrible times for everyone involved into visual appealing masterworks that I'm sure everyone would be totally happy living in to get that fashion. So sit back, grab a cool drink depending on where you are, and hopefully find something to enjoy or even laugh at in this one person's scripted rant.

YouTube and Spotify links are below (as hyperlinks because this blog can't handle links properly).

Spotify Version

YouTube version

I name thee...

What happens when the name of someone or something vanishes into the past, irretrievable even by linguistic reconstruction?

Well, we tend to create new names. We're a very verbal species, and consequently names are important. Every culture in the world has names or terms for something, always with a rich cultural and social history behind it. But something that struck me some months ago as an interesting facet of how names work is that, sometimes, a name can be completely lost. And when that happens, it lends an interesting level of depth to something which might otherwise appear shallow or inconsequential.

Apologies for bringing it up, but a certain overly popular urban fantasy series by a non-kosha author has an antagonist whose name is so deeply feared that speaking it is considered like an unlucky omen or even a curse. So they are referred to using the epithet "[They] who shall not be named". Believe it or not, this erasure of names through fear or social prejudice is nothing new. Several periods of Ancient Egypt made a habit of rubbing out inconvenient periods, such as systematic attempts by pharaohs after Tutankhamen to destroy evidence and memories of the Amarna Period represented by him and his father Akhenaten. There is also the the notorious Venetian Doge Marino Faliero, who was not only executed but subjected to Damnatio memoriae, basically erasure from official memory with associated punishments.

The mythic power of names is also very common. From the Ancient Egyptian myth of Ra's true name being learned by Isis and granting her great power, to traditions among the Ainu people of Japan for children to have a false name for the first few years to deter evil spirits, to old fairy tales like that of Rumpelstiltskin, to modern interpretations from le Guin and Paolini where knowing a name literally gives someone power over it. There is even an interesting superstition surrounding bears, where to speak its real name was to make it appear. So they used a term that now is rendered as...bear. There were similar superstitions around speaking the names of deities like Hades and Persephone. Don't exactly want to attract attention from the literal king and queen of the Underworld.

Sometimes, names just aren't recorded because the type of language it was preserved in wouldn't have survived, or suffered a devastating blow. While there are plenty of names surviving for Aztec and Mayan mythical and legendary figures, many others don't have surviving names. The picture heading the article is of a figure commonly called either Teotihuacan Spider Woman or the Great Goddess of Teotihuacan. We don't know her by any other name, there's even debate as to whether she was really a goddess, but unlike the Flayed God (Xipe Totec) or the Feathered Serpent (Quetzalcōātl/Kukulkan) she doesn't appear to have cognates in later cultures. In fact, most of the deities identified around Teotihuacan have few or not later equivalents. We don't know their names, they're only known by modern epithets. The civilisation of Teotihuacan left precious little of their pictographic writing, and we also have little left of the writing of the later Aztec culture of the region because...Spain happened.

Historical and political figures have also done this on purpose. The most obvious example is the 'disappearance' of former colleagues of Josef Stalin who fell foul of his regime, which is almost certainly happening in other countries under present or attempted totalitarian rule. And in other cases, certain names related to the development of advances or technologies may be left out due to the inconvenient light they shine on an established cultural narrative. But there is also a more personal example, that of George I's wife Sophia Dorothea of Celle. Long story short, it was a deeply unhappy cousins marriage of state, Sophia Dorothea allegedly had an affair, and she was divorced and imprisoned for the rest of her life. Here, the damnatio memoriae was more by personal choice than official decree, in as much as George I didn't talk about his wife. Or his own complicity in the event.

There is an interesting aspect of the loss of names that stems from cultural norms, and that is China. Xiran Jay Zhao touches on this in their videos on Fu Hau, Qin Shi Huang, and We Zetien, but women's names in Ancient China were typically not recorded, though I don't have the resources to go into detail on exact cultural or social reasons. But it means that, while there are many prominent women in Chinese history, we know them more by titles or honourifics than by their actual names.

And don't think this is some far off and distant thing that we now totally never do. Erasure of names or faces from something is happening all the time. Particularly if said figure is involved, whether justifiably or not, in either negative cultural movements or criminal activities. From the games industry alone (my hobby area), there is the dropping of the voice and likeness of Pierre Taki from the international version of Judgment, the removal of Michael Jackson's musical contributions to Sonic the Hedgehod 3, or the scrubbing of Hideo Kojima from the marketing of Metal Gear Solid V. While the reasons behind these erasures vary wildly, and I have my own feelings on this kind of thing, it is both an understandable reactions from corporations wanting to protect their products and sets a worrying precedent in this digital media age.

For a long time, names and words were considered to have literal power. In some circles historically, you didn't say 'damn' to someone unless you really, really were prepared for them to be damned to whatever underworld equivalent existed. Today, one could argue they still have. Writing, whether fictional or journalistic (can be interchangeable, discuss if you wish), influences people's perceptions of a subject or person.

This post is getting rambling, but it is an extremely deep field of potential study that I only just seriously though about as I was writing this, and I realised there's a huge amount of additional research that could be done into the concepts of damnatio memoriae, the somewhat-related Streisand effect. But I'll leave on a final note relating to someone else who wrote about unspeakable things. H. P. Lovecraft commonly wrote about terrible and unknowable forces that drive one mad by mere knowledge of them. But here's the kicker; his creations would've been far more terrifying if they hadn't been named at all. If we didn't have anything but epithets to attach to the humanoid squid-faced dragon thing, we might actually be scared if we saw its idol.

Summary: 30 Days of Pride #2

Over the past thirty days of June, AKA Pride Month, I've been sending out posts on my socials. Once per day, I've highlighted a creative--be they writer, poet, composers or artist--who falls somewhere within the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. I did my best to cover several genders, incorporate ethnic diversity, and as wide a range of the spectrum as possible. You can read this post if you want to know more about how I put this stuff together and drew my lines so it was doable. Now, I'm going to give you my complete list for posterity and ease of reading.

1: Angela Morley, a British composer, prolific but slightly forgotten today. From classic British radio to film and television, perhaps Morley's most enduring work is the soundtrack for the classic 1978 animated film Watership Down.

2: J. C. Leyendecker, an illustrator famous in America's interwar period for his commercial illustrations. From the covers of Colliers to famous advertisements for men's apparel, Leyendecker was a major artistic force in his country.

3: Zanele Muholi, a photographic artist who has been using their medium to portray, document and confront the queer experience within the black communities of South Africa and beyond.

4: Yuhki Kamatani, a mangaka and illustrator who is a more recent arrival. While maybe best known for their debut manga Nabari no Ou, perhaps their most notable work is the highly inclusive manga Our Dreams at Dusk.

5: Jeannette Ng, a fantasy author originally from Hong Kong who is just as famous for her novel Under the Pendulum Sun as she is for her acceptance speech for her what-is-now Astounding Award for Best New Writer. She got it renamed with a speech.

6: Masha Gessen, a Russian-American journalist who has been consistently pushing for truth and inclusivity in both countries, no matter the risks.

7: Francis Poulenc, a French composer who was active in the first half of the 20th Century. His body of work is large and varied, from ballet and opera to songs and orchestral pieces.

8: Ethel Smyth, another composer, this time from Britain, and one disregarded in her day due to her gender. She also campaigned actively for women's suffrage during the 1910s, and was eventually awarded a damehood.

9: Cyril Wong, a poet, orator and literary critic who has also stood up and out as a prominent gay rights activist in his native Singapore.

10: Alan Ball, an American screenwriter whose body of work might surprise. From Six Feet Under and American Beauty to True Blood, Ball can be credited with some interesting pieces of fiction.

11: Audre Lorde, another American writer whose work encompassed a large field. I think the best summation of her comes in her own words: "a Black, lesbian, feminist, socialist, poet". Read her full piece, it's amazing.

12: Vikram Seth, a British-Indian author and poet. While he has a number of other works to his name, many will know him for the novel A Suitable Boy. I might also recommend An Equal Music.

13: Juliana Huxtable, a multitalanted individual from America if there ever was one. Writer, artist, composer, DJ, and rights activist for black and LGBTQ communities. Plenty more to say, but I've run out of space.

14: Manuel Puig, a Mexican writer who created inclusive and confrontational fiction at a time when his country wasn't kind to LGBTQ groups. Broadway goers may know him for the original book for Kiss of the Spider Woman.

15: Gabriel J. Martín, an American writer and psychologist who has made their career out of helping, in person or through writing, people suffering from the pressures created by intolerance of LGBTQ groups.

16: Ocean Vuong, a Vietnamese-American poet, essayist, and novellist. His debut novel is the episelatory semi-autobiographical On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous. Warning, it gets harsh.

17: Ambrosia Tønnesen, a Norwegian sculptor regarded as a pioneer in her field in Norway as rather than a hobby, she made a living from her busts and figurines.

18: Abdellah Taïa, a Mocorran writer and filmmaker who has created relatable and unambiguous queer characters for the Arab world, a feat in and of itself even today.

19: Maddy Thorson, a game designer and writer from Canada who is best known for her work on the platformer Celeste, inspired by her own experiences coming out as a trans woman.

20: F. W. Murnau, one of the defining directors that codified--at least in pop culture--both German Expressionist cinema and later horror. His best known creation--Nosferatu.

21: Rune Naito, perhaps not well known today, but a pioneer in Japanese art in the later 20th Century. He both contributed to the gay magazine Bakazoku, and is credited as a pioneer of the kawaii art style.

22: Lesya Ukrainka, one of the best-known writers on Ukraine's literary tradition, famous for her poetry and also known for her activism on behalf of women and of Ukrainian independence from Russia.

23: Alla Nazimova, a Russian expat probably best known in pop culture as the definitive Salome in the 1922 silent film. She was also a well-regarded pseudonymous screenwriter and producer of early adaptations of Trotsky and Ibsen.

24: Joe Orton, a British playwright who had a short and controversial period of fame before his untimely death. His work included biting black comedy and openly gay characters prior to the decriminalisation of homosexuality in the UK.

25: R. O. Kwon, "a recent name at last" I hear some of you cry. Originally from South Korea, Kown has made her mark as a writer to watch with just two novels: The Incendiaries and Exhibit.

26: Murathan Mungen, a Turkish writer who has worked on stage plays, short stories and poems alongside branching into music. He is also something of a figurehead for the Turkish gay rights movement.

27: Nibedita Sen, born in Kolkata, and a writer who has won multiple major awards for her speculative fiction, focusing on short stories and anthologies.

28: Akwaeke Emezi, another recent writer, this time from Nigeria. She has written across numerous genres, but is perhaps best known at the moment for The Death of Vivek Oji.

29: Ngāhuia Te Awekōtuku, a writer probably better known in her local academia than in the mainstream West. A scholar of Maori culture and an activist for lesbian rights in Aotearoa (New Zealand).

30: Ryan Sallans, another academic, this time from America. Sallans has built his career on writing, speaking, and advocating for LGBTQ rights.

Now, among the honourable mentions and potential candidates, there were...a lot. Frankly too many. I wanted to limit myself strictly to those for whom definitive evidence beyond their work was included. That's why I didn't include Shakespeare last time, and why I didn't include two female poets who might otherwise qualify--Emily Dickinson and Wu Zao. There were also plenty of others that seem to be included on lists of LGBTQIA+ figures, but didn't have any substantial commentary or reliably cited evidence. I know that may seem restrictive and pedantic, but I'm of the opinion that we should be true to history unless it's deviating in a number of other ways (looking at you, Our Flag Means Death, don't get me started on its complete abandonment of history)

In these times, when queer rights are once more under vicious attack--intentional or not--from exclusionary and discriminatory laws and governments, it's important to remember these people. Creatives old and new who stood outside the Western heterosexual norm that's been enforced for over two centuries. Our past is littered with both triumph and tragedy, and there's still a road to travel to reach acceptance and tolerance being the widespread norm rather than what they sometimes are, legally-enclosed exceptions. I hope you find inspiration in at least some of these people I've highlighted.

As for next year? Well, if I'm still around, who knows? Maybe some mythological role models for people across the spectrum. See you then!

Year So Far: June 2024

So, in what's becoming a minor habit, I sum up stuff that's been going on for me in the first half of 2025, which has been...a year. For a lot of people. So here are the things I've been doing or managed to achieve. Think of it as something that everyone can read and think "Huh, I guess we can do something even in 2025."

Completed dev edits on my third book: My third Cluster Cycle book, The Murderer's Lament, has completed its development edits and is back with my publisher Roan & Weatherford. This was an...interesting one, since it's a murder mystery and I was expecting it to be picked to pieces, but instead most of it was more about tone and delivery proper punch, or eliminating redundancies with characters or exposition. It was fun to do, and gave me more confidence in the series going forward. Still gotta get through the last two, and who knows what'll happen with them.

Started the new series of Author Talks: More details here, but it's been fun and challenging creating a fully-scripted, more professional series of my one-person podcast, choosing a topic or piece of fiction to discuss each month between May and November this year.

Got some stuff done around the house and garden: After last year brought a cascade of upsets, setbacks and illnesses (culminating in five back-to-back flus one of which became pneumonia), I've actually been able to properly help with parts of the garden. Getting the vegetable area sort of prepped and usable, netting up our fruit bushes, bringing other parts of our large area under control again.

Decided to take a rest, didn't go as planned: Last year, I went to BristolCon and had a blast, but I realised I needed to take a year off that event at least for my love and enjoyment of it to still be present. You know, like needing to take a break from a food you really like so you can still enjoy it. I know I disappointed several people, but it was either that, or I wasn't going to enjoy it. But things happened, and it's not going to be as complete a rest as I imagined.

Found full comfort with my sexuality: I'd realised it fully and openly last year, but now I'm truly comfortable with the fact that I'm bisexual. It can be difficult to become comfortable, even for someone like me who doesn't have any hangups of LGBTQIA+ communities. Heck, I've got multiple family members who fall within that spectrum, and a wider family as a whole who is accepting in the best way. But...still took some time to realise about half of my fictional crushes were truly on men, and that I have certain types. It's made my bristling feelings about still-pervasive bisexual stereotypes even sharper, but that's a story for another time.

Got shortlisted for an award: This is EXTREMELY recent, nothing may come of it, and I don't think I can say which award yet (don't know the protocol for it), but I actually got shortlisted for something and I've been invited down to the ceremony next month. First awards ceremony of any kind I'll have attended in that capacity, which is insane.

Played a couple of really neat games: I know that sounds exceptionally trivial, but for me games are a part of my life and entertainment, and also part of my media/story intact. First, Baldur's Gate 3. For a long time I've wanted to have my own time with it, but my last Larian experience put me off their products...just, in toto. But I gave it a shot, and I actually completed it. Wrote a whole blog post about it. And I've decided to do a second playthrough and try to take it easier and not let it impact my work...as much. Hopefully. Seriously it's a real time sink. Second was Atelier Lulua: The Scion of Arland, which was a delightfully cozy if deceptively deep experience that informed something that I'll detail further down.

Reduced my news intake: That may be misleading, but it's more along the lines of "Get my news from reliable and undramatic sources, and don't stress over them too much." The world right now is terrible. The United States' current leadership is attempting regress the country at record speed, the people of the Near East are suffering en masse at the hands of their governments, and Ukraine is still partially occupied and in the middle of a war. So I needed to filter some stuff out, stop checking certain sites, but also not cut myself off from everything. It was for the sake of my mental health, and I think it's working.

Started a new fantasy project: Trust me, I've got LOADS of stuff in the pipeline with my publisher, maybe too much, but I wanted to write something that would distract me from the everything everywhere all at once going on right now. And I decided on a cosy fantasy inspired by the chill vibes of Atelier Lulua and the rest of its series. The music of Atelier has been one of my go-to writing aids for this project alongside the soundtrack for Frierin: Beyond Journey's End. The premise is a practitioner of "transmutation" (an art combining "magia" with real-world aspects of alchemy) teaching an unlikely apprentice as part of a challenge. Also, I named my lead Khemia. She's a dragon. And I didn't realise until yesterday that I named her after a part of the Greek origin of the term alchemy: khēmía.

Perhaps started a sci-fi project: This one's still a little wobbly, but I also wanted it to be lighter in message if not in outright tone. This one is set in a possible alternate history 1912 where alien species arrived on Earth thirty years before and are well into the process of integrating, granting humans new technology and exposing them to a wider range of social norms. As for why I chose 1912? Well, it's part of the belle epoch of Europe, a time of great change in other parts of the world and...something else happened that maybe can be used to differentiate this timeline from our own.

Aaaand that's it. I hope you enjoyed this summary, found some measure of encouragement that things can be done, and that you will press on and find comfort and courage. Deep down, I do think we can survive these times. It's just difficult to see the end of the tunnel when blocked by obese bodies or overinflated egos.

Author Talks S3 E2: My Writing Journey

 It's all in the title, and all for your enjoyment and cringe. The next episode of my one-person podcast Author Talks is now live, and it's very different from what I've done before. It's a 50-ish minute summary of my writing journey with both extracts of my earlier work (yikes...) and a preview of my upcoming Cluster Cycle book The Murderer's Lament (yay!). The episode is available on YouTube and Spotify, so if you can put up with my narration and some musical interludes/background music that seemed appropriate, then do enjoy. No-one shall expose my early cringe...as I've already done it myself!

(Note: Due to this blog's...quirks, I've needed to create text-based links for both versions.)

YouTube version

Spotify version