At the most crucial times, I cannot grasp just what to say right.

But my mouth always know the wrong things to say.


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What Price Sight?

Ever visited a gallery and been struck the the beauty of a piece of art? Try looking out your window now and again, or raising your eyes from the ground or shop windows.

You might just see the evidence of God.


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So a pastel sketch I did of the face of the Madonna (of the Rocks, as far as I remember) has offended someone who thought it was a sketch of her. Ah vanity…

So I’ll take it down to placate the dear.


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Last Darn Rites

Two of my stories (Beach Gods and Millennial Sentience) appear in the Whitesboro Writers anthology, Last Darn Rites, available NOW on Kindle.

It’s a brilliant collection of stories about the diverse aspects of death, including the quirky, the weird and the humorous.

Read it while it’s hot.

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I’ve just discovered I’m “cisgender”, which is a shock.

Definition per OED. “Denoting or relating to a person whose sense of personal identity and gender corresponds with their birth sex.”

Uh … oh — kay!! So I’m fucking normal, then. Ah, I see, this was invented to pamper the poor wee mites who don’t want to be classed as not “normal”. And in order to do so, the vast majority of people on the planet can apparently go stuff themselves if they are offended by being called “Cis”.

Know what, I’m beginning to lean toward Trump.

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The missing child-syndrome is no longer restricted to the good old US., as you can see from today’s pet owners and several media promoted pet psychologists and even mediums.

Charlatans are not restricted to the past.

All the various Lassies had trainers … until the last twenty years or so. I suppose those trainers wanted to be recognized as more professional. They do, after all, get into behaviorism.

Then again, there had to be a time when Timmy just couldn’t be rescued from the well. Think of the trauma!! Tum-tee-tum! Never mind the gender issues of most Lassie “actors” being male and effectively Dames.

Dogs are pack animals and as such tend to reflect the emotions and form of the alpha, which makes anthropomorphism easy. Plus writers are an imaginative folk.

The like of Anna Sewell’s Black Beauty (1945) and James Herbert’s Fluke (1977) – about a father reincarnated into a dog’s body (later dramatized in film 1995) helped cement the non-human “humanity”. And being human we can only express and explain actions and projections in human terms.

We call animals fussy eaters,when there may well be a more practical reason why they won’t eat one product at one specific time. We can’t think like them, so we interpret on our terms: imposing our reasoning upon them as so many nature shows do – purely to humanize the observed behaviour for increased viewing.

Any behaviourist will tell you that the act of the observer either being there or planting cameras for longitudinal studies immediately skews the natural behaviour of an animal, or community of animals.

In short, we are arrogant enough (when not even all humans think alike) to presume all animals have the same thought processes we do, or even as each other – yet how can they: they don’t have the same convoluted motivations or goals?

If a deer could think the same as a wolf – wolves would go very hungry.

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Updates on Publications

Still hunting through the hardcopy records to recover my full list of publications, I meanwhile commit those recovered and those more recently accepted to this site.



I am also glad to announce that Mythic Blood is available in hardback.

The plague of “killer” clowns has alarmed me somewhat, because they are eerily reminiscent of a character in my 2001 play, initially titled The Camouflage Murders … which is among my ongoing projects … both to commit to publication as a play and develop as a novel.

I first thought of Stephen King’s ‘It’, but that was more a supernatural being taking the form of a clown and sticking to King’s ubiquitous Derry, Maine, rather than my own Derry, Northern Ireland. What is it with clowns and Derrys?

Anyway, here’s a look at my rough draft play.


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