Trigger (warning)

Des Lewis is a writer who’s quietly become a legend. He’s had 1200 or so short stories published (under the name D.F. Lewis) since the mid-80s (a great era for the horror genre), making the Year’s Best Horror Stories collection on five consecutive years. In recent times he’s focussed on reviewing fiction in real time. He’s very select in what he reviews and stories are dissected in a unique way, as he makes his way through a story or collection. Many writers consider it as an honour to have their work reviewed by him, including myself. I’m chuffed to say that a fair amount of my stories have received the Lewis treatment and I’ve been blown away by the results. The photo above shows Des looking back at his review of Trigger, which appeared in the mighty Vastarien (a journal of work inspired by Thomas Ligotti’s writing) in 2018. It was the only review published of that story that I know of, which I’ve assumed is because of the subject matter – a person self-harming before taking their own life, and I’m grateful to Des for doing so. It was a piece that needed to be written; some thirty years ago I went through a period of cutting myself, for reasons I won’t go into here and I’ve lived with mental illness for most, if not all, of my life. I took this part of my history and linked it to the suicide of a friend of a former partner, who killed herself pretty much in the way described in the story, although I wouldn’t presume to know her reasons or thoughts at that moment. I saw the dent in the concrete where she hit the ground and I went to her funeral. Now that’s pure horror. Vastarien was probably the only publication that would have even considered accepting the piece, and I appreciate them for doing so. Review aside, I did get a message from a US serviceman, who found the story ‘reassuring’. I thanked him for writing but I didn’t push him to explain exactly what he meant. I hope it was that it made him feel heard and less alone. Looking back I worry about whether I got that right. I hope he’s alive and well.

Women and faggots will save the planet

2025 continues to be a year of slow progress – which is amazing compared to last year’s horrorshow. My health’s improved somewhat but it’s a continual battle against fatigue, breathing difficulties and some unpleasant but inevitable signs of aging. I’m determined to get out on Cornwall’s coastal path this autumn to do some photography and have a short walk on something other than tarmac or concrete.

Creatively things are going extremely well. I’ve started working on the screenplay, Charcoal, again and I’m probably around two thirds through turning my rough story into the first draft of a script. As far as fiction goes, earlier this year I began a complete rewrite – 5000 words in – of a new story, We Only See Ourselves In Mirrors. It took a long time to ‘tune in’ to this one, but it’s now going nicely. I’ve also dusted off a pile of unsold/unfinished stories with the aim of getting them ready for submission. I worked on The Ladder Acrobat’s Ascendency To Heaven over the weekend and I believe it’s now complete, although at just under 10,000 words it’s too long for most publications. However, I believe it to be possibly the best story I’ve ever written so it might be good for it to see the light of day somewhere/sometime. The other story that’s also finished is Every Moment Is The Beginning Of Forever, a tale set in 1970s and 1980s Stoke Newington, which at nearly 10,500 words is no doubt way too long to submit anywhere! Of the others, And When It’s Twelve O’Clock is probably finished, Eleven Eleven and Yes, No, Goodbye (both around the 5000 word mark) need tweaking and Into An Expanding Sun needs a substantial rewrite. Finding suitable publications to submit to is proving more difficult than ever these days. Apart from my word count, anthologies appear to be extremely specific in their themes so I go through periods where I don’t even look for them. Add to that the fact that I’ve yet to be paid for the last story I had published then it seems almost pointless.

As for Brother Frank, I had the honour of walking into my local record shop the other day to find the owner showing the single to a couple of music fans on holiday from upcountry. They bought the record and had me sign it for them. It was a delightful and strange moment. I recently bought a digital multitrack recorder so am still learning to use it, but it seems like an extremely useful purchase and I’ve laid down the bass and guitar parts to a new track, I Don’t Know Why I’m Here. I’m still learning how to drum on my digital drumpads, but I’m much improved and will be recording the drum part next before adding a second guitar part. The quality of the recordings seem to be very high, although not using an acoustic drumkit will inevitably give the finished tracks a ‘lo-fi’ atmosphere. Should I release another record it’ll likely have the title given to this post. It was something a wise man, now departed, once assured me.

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