A shiny, squeaky, brand new story has been emerging tonight.

Given that I've been thinking of all the other starts I've made over the last few years, I'm a tad surprised that I'm typing up an unplanned story that has no relation to anything I've done before. It's only 1K in, and I haven't gone back over to edit, but it's there, and it's flowing quite nicely. I may have to get some advice regarding certain ideas that have popped up - wireless spy cameras etc (do they exist? I have...

So, I had a slight epiphany.

I’ve never really had a job that felt satisfying, although I’ve made the best of what opportunities I’ve had. Well, at least I’ve made the best of the people I’ve met, but I’ve never really put myself forward for extra responsibility or more duties – not because I’m work-shy or shirking, but because I was never really confident enough to believe that I would be any good at anything more.

On occasions where I’ve been pushed, I’ve almost always...

I've not been around much, nor have I recorded any new vlogs for almoft one week -- because I am lost in that wonderful realm of intense artistic creation. I've had an idea for a book that I thought was far-off in ye future, a wee collection of my tales of Nyarlathotep. Well, over the past couple of years David Wynn of Mythos Books has been hinting big-time that he wants to publish a new Pugmire collection, and suddenly I didn't want to wait any longer for my collection of Crawling Chaos tales....

It was inevitable that I didn’t keep this up daily, and I’m not in the slightest bit surprised at myself. Part of the reason is that life is just so busy on every level, and I think another part of this is to do with the change in seasons.

When I started this blog, we had frequent days of snow, sometimes being essentially housebound, snuggling up by the log fire and baking bread as the shops had run out. There was something so peaceful about that time as the outside world was forced...

I've been straining to hang on to very small ideas recently (takes a very fine strainer). Why? Just in case they can be squeezed down to seventy five words, obviously.

So, 'that's a nice little idea. I wonder how long it'll be when I write it out?'

As I passed the hundred word mark, I wasn't worried; there's always some dead wood to be pruned. The five hundred mark was more alarming, and the story had the bit between its metaphorical teeth, heading for the horizon....