On several occasions my interest in the supernatural has taken me to some of the most prestigious seats of learning in the entire United Kingdom. From the venerable halls of Oxford and Cambridge, to the more humble surroundings of inner city colleges and schools, my pursuit of evidence to substantiate such claims has rarely been fruitful. However, while exploring the University of St Andrews in Scotland, I found an intriguing tome hidden away in a dark and musty corner of the old campus library.
The book itself was unusual, its cover bound in a weathered and blackened leather which unashamedly wore the wrinkles and cracks of time. It dated back to the 16th century, and seemed to contain various descriptions and accounts of the daily lives of the people of Ettrick; a small isolated town built in the south moorlands of the country.
Greetings, dear readers, listeners, watchers, and lurkers. It's February, and it's time to share my goals for this year.
I've essentially scheduled things so that I'll be releasing about a project per month. This would be a crazy schedule if I were working on everything from scratch, but most of these projects are somewhere between 75%-90% complete already. I just need to finish them off. So, the year looks like this (God, Random Chance, or Programmer spares me).
January - The Nosleep Live Tours
This consists of four scripts I've been commissioned to write for The Nosleep Podcast, easily one of the best horror fiction podcasts I've ever had the pleasure of listening to. There's a live tour going on in February and March across the USA, and the extremely talented cast will be treading the boards performing one of these four audio plays each night (16 shows in all), as well as narrating some stories from other writers and doing a Q&A. I finished these at the beginning of February.
February - From a Campfire's Embers...
This is a series of six horror stories I'm writing to be broadcast via the Ghastly Tales Podcast. I piloted the idea a couple of years ago by writing and narrating The Whispering Woods. A special seventh episode is in the works which will be a 360 short film set at a campfire. The stories range from 1500 to 3000 words in length. There will be a book version of these stories so that they can be told around a campfire. The book may or may not release this year, though.
Folds of grass mounds dipped and rose as we climbed the cliffs. At their peak an old cottage stood, the time of its construction long forgotten. We drove, and had been driving, for hours. It was all I knew how to do. Our house foreclosed, my dreams - our dreams - repossessed along with them. I sat in the driver’s seat, my wife alongside me, and our two children in the back. It was good that they couldn’t see my expression. How could I face them? How could I explain that our lives had just been cut loose, taken out by a nameless tide swathed in empty bank accounts and red letters typed harshly demanding final payment. I had failed.
Lauren knew. She hadn’t spoken since we started driving. The men had come; we put the last of our things in the small caravan, which now toed behind us, filled with the echoes of our previous lives. Our home had been lost, and the old rickety caravan, which had been my Aunt’s, was now our only hope of shelter. Thank God it had not been taken from us as well.