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Novels and Novellas

Paper cutouts of a woman and a boy standing before a towering house made of paper
The Book Eaters
Out on the Yorkshire Moors lives a secret line of people for whom books are food, and who retain all of a book's content after eating it. To them, spy novels are a peppery snack; romance novels are sweet and delicious. Eating a map can help them remember destinations, and children, when they misbehave, are forced to eat dry, musty pages from dictionaries...
The Thief of Memory
The Hero must journey across the desert to capture The Thief Of Memory and retrieve her stolen memories. But what she finds in the end ma...
Sea Sister (out 2024!)
TITLE & COVER ARE PLACEHOLDERS ONLY.

An "Asian Gothic" historical fantasy set in ww2 and post-war Hong Kong, featuring its lush outlying islands and legendary Kowloon Walled City.

Short Fiction

All of the short stories listed below are fiction pieces that I have previously published in other venues. Now that first rights have expired, I’ve reprinted them here for anyone to read for free, if they wish, with full credit given to the original publications.

Deserted Lies the City
That night, as they watched New Nazareth burn from their little ridge up in the mountains, Elon asked, “Did I do that?”
A Possible Serenity
“The screaming faded away as the life signs went flat. ”
“—Good.”
He says, “But I’m dying,” like it’s the answer to everything, like he thinks I’ll disagree.
John Kills Jenny
John sweats beneath the wires that entangle his head and transmit images and words directly to his brain. Soft restraints encase each limb, band his torso. Another thick bar around the neck. Only his right hand can move—to touch the adjacent console panel. Four buttons nestle into its metal surface, a series of differently-coloured squares labelled A, B, C, D.
Ice Cream and English Summers
Six months pregnant, and I should have been happy. Six words to fire me, and I should have been angry. Instead, I drifted in a fugue. Spring faded, summer swelled, and our lives were falling apart.
This Song Is Dedicated to the End of the World
The End The city sprawls like a dropped jigsaw, fractured lines running through broken architecture. Sewers overflow and drown the streets in filthy water. The world is only ending, as it sometimes does. In the midst of this nauseating collapse sits the remains of the Bright Lights Arts Centre, which used to be named the Bright Lights…
The Long, Slow Courtship of Mr Death and Famishista
Death came calling in a pinstripe suit and canotier hat, of the kind that nobody had worn for at least a hundred years. My narrow doorway framed his narrow frame, and he flashed grey teeth in a winsome smile.

Blog

Articles The Publishing Quest

Publishing Quest, Pt 1: The Seeking of the Literary Agent

Let’s start with a caveat: I’m not the kind of person who grew up wanting to be a writer because I sort of figured out at the age of 11 or 12 that writing was a Bad Idea. Everybody wanted to do it, most people sucked, and the few who didn’t suck barely made any money. Before writing could ever be a goal or aspiration, I had already consigned the idea of writing to the metaphorical bin.

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