fiction

Suburban Book of the Dead an awards finalist!

The finalists for the Sir Julius Vogel awards, New Zealand’s science fiction awards were announced last Sunday. Here’s the longlist.

The Suburban Book of the Dead is nominated for Best Youth Novel! I’m absolutely over the moon that it got to the short list. My little book, a nominee! I’m so pleased and honoured.

The awards are voted by the Science Fiction society and awarded at Geysercon on Queen’s Birthday weekend. (Friday 31st May – Sunday 2nd June 2019) 

If you’re local, I highly recommend attending Geysercon. I’ll be appearing on a panel or two, and paperback copies of Suburban Book of the Dead will be available for purchase at the book fair all weekend.

Click the cover to be taken to the book on Amazon. It’s also available on BookDepository and the Hutt based indie bookstore Writers Plot Readers Read

fiction, writing

Void breath

Breathing to re-anchor myself. To make myself more human and less void. Breathe in, breathe out.

I need less aether in this skin. My skin.

Some days it takes longer than others. A disruption to my routine will certainly cause the human-ness to disappate, the myriad confusions of the universe rush in instead.

This openness to the void is usually not much of an issue. Not too big, not too bothersome. But if I have to get up at 4am to check into an early flight, or if I get wrapped up in excitement at a party, or playing a video game and stay awake to late then it rears up.

Any day I forget to eat.

If I get sick with a fever.

If I run into an ex unexpectedly.

There are warning signs: a slight nausea where my stomach should be, a prickling in my fingers, or a tingling up the forearms. The feeling that something in my spine is out of place and wants a good crack. My eyes dry out, my throat scratches, the corners of my mouth crack painfully.

When these things happen, even one of them, I get irritable.

It’s best not to speak to me.

This is for your own good, you understand. Anything that sets me off in this state could trigger… well. I don’t exactly know what it triggers. I don’t know what would happen. I’ve always been able to control it.

Breathe in, slow, controlled.

Even the time I woke up halfway through the process. My heart fluttering somewhere around my left ear and my being feeling such affinity to the infinity. The void filling me and threatening to do something worse, something more…

Breathe out, longer than I breathed in for. Control the rate of expulsion.

If I couldn’t breathe my body back into the completeness who knows what might happen. But something in me continues to chase the void away. To return to the anchor of the flesh and breathe. In and out.

Breathe in

Breathe out

____

This is a short piece I found in an old notebook from 2015. I rather liked it, so I updated it and now you get to enjoy the existential horror of anxiety. You’re welcome.

fiction

Suburban Book of the Dead giveaway

I’m giving away paperback copies of my book…

Enter now and be one of three lucky people to win a real life copy of my YA ghost story, The Suburban Book of the Dead!

I’ll ship internationally, and I’ll sign the copy for the winner if they choose. There will be three winners, who will get one book each.

I will contact the winners on March 31st, and if I don’t hear back from any winner within three days that prize will be redrawn.

Entering will sign you up to my newsletter, but I promise I’ll only use it to contact you when I have a new project or exciting news. No spam.

Enter here, via Kingsumo