So, here we are, alone at last.
Truth be told, I imagine this first post will find me largely talking to myself – at least until I pester enough of you to come check out this blog. But let’s not think on that; that way lies madness. Let’s enjoy this maiden voyage. Let’s crack a bottle of champers across the bow and get cruising. Hmmm… I haven’t actually any champagne in the house. I’ll grab a Fat Yak Pale Ale instead.
So. In an effort to increase my online fiction profile, I’ve put this little blog together. It’ll tide us all over until I manage to get a full website up. I’m no stranger to blogging, having posted a number of drunken rants on MySpace and Facebook, but this is new. So, where to start?
Now that I’ve created this, I’ll be doing another run of short fiction submissions. They’ll include stories such as “Ivy’s First Kiss” (online dating leads to a bizarre first meeting), “The Girl Who Killed Gods” (lesbian genius tackles theology in an impossible deathmatch) and “His Favourite Phantom” (lonely man experiences a rash of sexy dreams in his new flat, BUT…). I’ll let you know the results as I get them.
I haven’t written a whole lot of short fiction in the last six months or so, because from the beginning of September I threw myself headfirst into my latest novel manuscript. Taking a week off work, I spent eight straight days writing, with a tally of 64,000 words; I finished the first draft of 92,000 words in a total of 25 days, though on at least 10 of them I didn’t write at all. Now at around 100,000 words, I’ve decided to call it A Banquet Of Broken Hearts, and it’s the best long-form work I’ve written yet. I have only one final cosmetic draft to go, and then I’ll be looking to find a home for it. Shall I pique your interest? Okay, then…
SYNOPSIS: Ramsey is a failed musician, author and lover who has disappeared into the depths of heroin abuse. Those who know and care for him have finally managed to track him down and, at wits’ end, have locked him in the cool room of a deserted warehouse to go cold turkey. But what they don’t know, and can’t believe, is that Ramsey had a very good reason for his drug use – black whispers in his head have been growing steadily louder, and now that the smack is no longer fogging the lens, something terrible is coming through him to work its wicked will in this world. Now, his best friends and past lovers will have to face their own failures if they hope to survive against something that knows them better than they know themselves…
In addition to this fantastical foma, I’m also doing the third draft on a novella entitled Natasha ♥’s SLAYER. It’s more of a dark drama, a coming of age story, but replete with all the gritty detail, heavy metal and explicit sex that you’d expect from my horror work. Slayer guitarist Jeff Hanneman died just days after I completed the first draft of this one, so I think it only fair I dedicate it to him if I can find a publisher. I have one in mind… we’ll see.
Well, I’ve kept you long enough. Off you pop, and be amazing. See you here again soon, I trust…?
– MRD x
PS. The blog title is a quote from The World’s End, my favourite film of 2013. It’s not one of the more memorable lines from that movie (I prefer “Why don’t you get in your rocket and fuck off back to LEGO Land, you cunt!” or “What the fuck does WTF mean?”, but this one seemed more appropriate.)