Returning to the craft

 It is a damp and dreary day at the beginning of October, a day the Scots would refer to as 'dreich'  (pronounced 'dreek' ) which is one of my favourite words, as it so perfectly sums up this type of weather. I have returned from a wind-swept dog walk, arriving back home just as the rain began to spatter the pavement as a precursor to the promised storm, which lashes against the windows as I write.

So here's the thing... I am writing again.

I know there are those of you who will be saying "I don't understand... he's never stopped, has he?" Well yes, I did. For almost two years I was unable to write fiction following the loss of my wife. Grief will do that to you... or it did to me anyway. Though as I have mentioned before, my ongoing journey through that particular storm has led to the publication of my 'grief memoir' - Precious Dreams and Living Nightmares - written initially as therapy for me and detailing as best I could the maelstrom of that first year of grief. (If anyone would like a copy, please feel free to click the link)

It is also true, as regular followers of this blog will know, that I have been fortunate enough to continue to have work published (indeed, just this month I have had my story 'Snowflake' published by Underland Press in their anthology 'Kozy Krampus, and at the end of October my folk horror tale 'Red, Red Wine' will appear in 'Hiding Under The Leaves' from The Slab Press) but these are both stories that I had written before Shirley's passing.



However, over these last few months I have found the will to write again, and for that I am truly thankful. Not unnaturally the pieces I have written all seem to deal with loss in some form or another, but looking back over my previous work that does not seem to be much of a departure from the norm. In fact, both stories mentioned above have loss at their core... I guess there is just a greater degree of poignancy attached to them now.

I also took the decision to turn down work (and a substantial tranche of income) so that I could attend the World Fantasy Convention which this year is being held in Brighton. It will be the first time I've attended, and I'll let you know my thoughts once it's all over. Hopefully it will give me the chance to 'network' (horrible word) with other authors and like-minded individuals, and also means that I will be on hand for the launch of the aforementioned anthology from The Slab, so I'm sure that alone will be a lot of fun!

In the meantime I continue to do odd bits of paid work (got to keep the wolf from the door); a little volunteering (good for the soul and general well-being); go to meetings (of which there seem to be a ridiculous amount); look after the house and garden (necessary evils); practice the mandolin (a new skill that I am attempting - good for the brain, apparently); and spend time with my little dog (the best emotional support I could ever wish for). 

And writing. 

Writing, writing, writing. 

And my word it feels good to be able to say that...


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