Well, that has been 2020. It’s been a year, and one that will have affected creative sorts differently. For me thankfully it’s been relatively productive.
I had three short stories published this year. Down To The Roots, my Scottish Hallowe’en story, came out early in the year in Shadows and Tall Trees issue 8 and another weird tale, Bunting, was published in Uncanny Bodies. And this morning, I received my contributor copy this morning of Biopolis: Tales of Urban Biology. My contribution, a near future SF story called Mudlarking, was constructed around the work into the science of biological resource reclamation by Professor Louise Horsfall and her colleagues at the University of Edinburgh. It’s really fascinating work.
What else? The new novel, The Poison Road, was finished and is currently doing the rounds of the publishing houses. I’ve been making notes for a follow up and expect to start that in the new year. The horror novella I mentioned this time last year is officially under way, so I’m currently thinking a lot about what scared me in the 1970s and what’s changed (and what hasn’t) in British society since then. In a number of ways it’s an interesting time to be writing about that sort of thing.
Music-wise, last year I promised I’d dedicate time to doing FAWM properly and releasing as many of the songs as I felt comfortable with. And, by George, I actually managed it. The Disappointed Skeptics Club, is a wee tour of my early musical influences in the form of eight songs about ghosts. But (mostly) not scary ones.
Hoping for more of the same in 2021, creatively speaking at least. Another novel, some more shorts and another FAWM-inspired album would do very nicely, but if they don’t happen it’s not the end of the world. There are more important issues at hand generally speaking.
Here’s to creative and healthy year for everyone.