The Tale Untold

Slowly I slip towards the veil in my final frailty, no longer fearful. Afloat in peace and love, my dearest friends and family nearby, clarity returns and I shiver a little. This plain, windowless and comfortable room feels crowded by others who drift silently in through the walls as if to bear witness.

I wonder what they are. And a terrible question washes through me like an echo of sorrow. Are these the unwritten tales, untold stories & undrawn, unpainted pictures stuck within me? Unseen, unknown and never made, they will be lost with me.

A wave of angry regret washes over me as relive my excuses. Waiting until I felt ready, until I was in the mood, until I had the time. The strangling creepers of doubt and fear I allowed to hold me back. My gifts unused or perhaps misused. Knowing, but failing to understand, creation wanted to play me as an instrument. And the little me, too fearful, too stubborn and too uncomfortable to surrender to the song that was to be sung through me. And now no time at all.

All those wasted years trying to find my purpose, my passion. Looking in the wrong places. I want to cry, to yell, to rage at myself as the room grows brighter, a greater peace and calm washes it all away. Love holds me and shows me the truth I need to see. Not the shades of unwritten things but the hearts untouched. Faces both familiar and strange gaze gently at me. An audience waiting to listen.

Brightness rises within me to fill the room, bliss overwhelming as the veil parts to show me what comes next. I hear whispers as a last massive smile spreads over my face. The time has come and the audience awaits.


I’ve just listened to my heart after deciding to ‘just write’. While reading the latest edition of Writers Forum magazine I came across an online course by Neil Gaiman. And it slapped me in the face – “I need to do this!”. A writer who I’ve admired for a long time; from the Sandman graphic novels, through his books ‘The Ocean at the End of the Lane’ and then adaptation to the big screen ‘Stardust’ and then the small screen ‘American Gods’ .

So I looked at the cost £90 and thought ‘no-brainer‘ for a course by one of my favourite writers. Then, as usual, I looked at my bank balance…my bills and thought ‘I can’t afford it right now’.  With my Mr Lack head on (think Worzel Gummidge) I gave a shrug and decided it would have to wait.

However, my heart wasn’t impressed and demanded I take off Mr Lack and put on Mr Abundance instead. So I did, I chose not to focus on the scarcity thoughts and just allow that somehow, because my heart wanted this so obviously, that it would happen. I didn’t tyr to figure out how or when. I just knew in that moment, you could say I belived if you like, that this was something I just had to do. No matter what.

And it happened just like magic. I received £90, in cash, from an unexpected source and after a moments hesitation*, I deposited it in the bank and came straight home to enrol and begin the course. I’ve just watched about half an hours worth and my heart was so right! I need this. It’s like oxygen. It’s like waking up inside a dream and realising it was real all along. I can only describe it as watching the best movie ever about the subject you most love.

To say I am excited is an understatement. This is the fuel I needed for my rocket. As the man says “To Ininty and Beyond”.





Write here, write now

crow flying above green grass field

Photo by Batuhan Alper Bilginer on

Meeting Mr Tourmaline

I met a curious character whilst out walking the other day. Dressed in black with his neat grey waistcoat, I instantly knew this skip walking corvid was Mr Tourmaline. Of good standing in the Hooded Crow clan, he was in a cheerful mood muttering as he slowed to a waddling saunter, inspecting the grass with bright eyes for his breakfast.

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The Pivotal Moment

August didn’t know it yet but his mission, hidden by his momentary loss of reason, carried a soul crushing responsibility. Crossing into a world bereft of magic and hope, slowly smothering itself in inhuman technology, he was here to prevent the crystallization of the formless mass of interconnected machines and processors into a unified inorganic god.

The sheer weight of millions of devices and quadrillions of calculations would press the technology into an indestructible whole, much as graphite dust can be compressed into a diamond lattice. Already the weight of the ever-growing pervasive technology had pushed out the old magics and created an entropy gap between the bound and boundless realms. Once the transformation happened it would be irreversible, trapping August in a world doomed to a slow death in service to the new god.

With the aid of a few remnants of the old races and embers of magic, he would have to strike at the precise moment of the transformation. Too soon and, like punching smoke, it would have no impact on the result. Too late and, like punching rock, it could not undo what was done. Only at the pivotal moment, when the energy in the system began forging, crystallising the random formless parts into a mesh of new indestructible bonds.

A moment when the forces could be turned to consume the parts, shatter the new bonds and destroy the technology completely. To avoid extinction, August would unleash destruction almost as severe, in order to rebuild the bridge between realms and begin healing the world once more.

crow flying above green grass field

Photo by Batuhan Alper Bilginer on