Brain fluff and an anthology.

This time there is a trifecta of reasons for my absence: a hellish journey to France for an international fencing tournament (no legionnaire's disease this time), one of those long illnesses that lays you out flat for weeks, and a directive from Ali Smith to go write a novel and the accompanying discovery that when I begin a novel everything else ceases to be important - a trick of psychology or a flaw of personality that Henry assures me is pretty common.

February is over, but it still feels like February. The return of marked coursework resulted in loud dissent in the ranks, for assorted reasons. My personal annoyance stems not from my marks but from the conflicting commentary attached by the markers, which makes me wonder if anyone really knows what they're doing when it comes to the rough side of fiction. There seems to be a great element of chance in producing a piece that 'works,' and even more chance in getting it published. Or perhaps that is just what I tell myself to lessen the sting of rejection letters.

Speaking of publication, Cruentus Libri press will be birthing a horror anthology next week selected around the unifying theme of the sea; The Dead Sea will be on Amazon US, UK, for Kindle and on Create Space. My contribution to the collection was one of those instances of incredible chance and the vatic voice; it was written in one breath (after an extended debate with my partner on the monsters of Celtic mythology), came out exactly as I wanted it to, and found a home immediately. Which is not typical of my writing or publishing process.

Doesn't that just look precious?

Two more anthologies should be poking their sunny heads through the snow along side the daffodils this spring, though if the present trend continues they will be excessively delayed. By the time the last comes out I hope to have found an agent for some longer pieces that have been sitting in the closet for a while, or at least have enough rejection letters piled up to show that I've tried.