​Finally.
When I started writing, my goal was just to find the time to write. Not especially ambitious, but with a young family and a full-time job working shifts in a busy children’s home, it was enough of an target. Then I realised two things. Firstly, I was actually pretty good; and secondly, I was at risk of ending up with dozens of stories and novels lying around on hard drives and in notebooks if I didn’t do something with them.
In fact I still have several outlines for novels in my notebooks, stored in my Welsh dresser. The sequels to my work-in-progress, Longhope, as well as several sequels. A few stand-alone novellas. And three thriller novels based around a not-so-retired hitman.
So with all that material around I set myself another goal. One novel per year. Certainly nowhere near as prolific as some indie authors, but enough for me. I still have to fit my writing around my family and my job, as well as studies. Last year I completed a level five diploma in residential childcare management. This year I’m on course to complete… a level five diploma in residential childcare management, having been promoted to management in Wales. For some reason the Welsh regulators weren’t happy with the diploma I’d earned in England so I’m topping it up with several extra units, whilst managing a home.
Last year, with all that was going on, I missed my target. Although I’d written a ton of short stories and outlined a whole series of novels, I didn’t publish anything to Kindle. The novels, The Trophy Hunter Series, didn’t turn out as well as I’d wanted, so I’ve left them on the backburner at least for now.
This year I’ve just scraped by. Ten Years Gone has just gone live on Amazon. It’s a collection of short stories (twenty-five of them) but it still counts, right? It’s the most diverse piece of work I’ve published. Of course it covers horror, but there are a lot of other things in there. Sci-fi, social commentary, flash fiction. 

The two of them sat atop the National Gallery, watching the crowds in Trafalgar Square, their legs dangling over the building’s edge. It was early summer in London, which was to say the clouds were thinner and the sun approaching warm when it managed to cut through.
“How are we doing?” asked the taller. His name was Al. He liked to appear tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy blonde hair slicked back. Sometimes he wore sunglasses, but today it wasn’t worth the effort.
“Terribly.” Lee favoured a shorter appearance, darker hair and a pot belly. “We were meant to turn twenty by sundown. Thirty, if they’d already sinned and we could lead them further down the dark path.”
“What are we on?”
“Three.”
“Oh.”
From here they watched the crowds, but more importantly, they could see the aura of every person too. Auras not only broadcast a person’s emotional state to these two. They could read a person’s lifestyle, habits, choices... and propensity for certain kinds of behaviour.
Al sighed. “I thought it’d be nice to come up here. For a change, you know? I miss the pigeons. We don’t get pigeons down there. But this, if I’m really honest, is bloody boring.”
“Tell me about it. I spend most of my time up here. Not through choice, mind you. I seem to get lumped with this gig whether I want it or not. I remember when this was a craft. You could spend years destroying a man’s life, piece by piece, choice by choice until his soul was as black as slate. Nowadays, it’s a couple of sins and on to the next one. Still, at least it’s not misty. Mist gets everywhere. Takes hours to dry out after a day spent sat in the mist. And it fuzzes up the auras something terrible.”
“Oh!” There was the sound of air imploding, and Al disappeared briefly. When he reappeared he was grinning. “Heh heh heh.”
“What did you get?”
“Adultery. That fella, there. The one with the brown jacket, the ginger one. Got a silly little beard. His PA has been flirting with him for weeks now, and he’s going to decide to take her out when he gets back to the office. A few drinks, then back to hers for a quickie in the kitchen. He’ll dump her a few weeks later out of guilt before his girlfriend gets suspicious.”
Lee squinted. “Yep, got him.” He opened the app on his phone and pressed an icon. “Adultery. Bingo. That’s four, then.”
“What time is it?”
“About half past eleven.”
“Oh.”
Time passed. The sun climbed the sky and discovered more cloud. Whether or not it was a better class of cloud made little difference to those below. In Trafalgar Square more and more humans were carrying food. Many auras dimmed as people threw leftovers and litter to the ground. Some felt guilty as they did so; other couldn’t care less. London’s rats and pigeons were indifferent as to why food hit the floor or how the humans felt about it.
“Got anything to eat?” asked Lee.
“Penguin or Kit-Kat?”
“Um, Penguin if you don’t mind. Tea? I’ve a flask here.”
“Yeah, why not.”
More time crawled by as they scanned the crowds. No likely prospects were found. People passed beneath them, every one with a small hint of sin about them. Some carried biros stolen from the office. Some fancied their best friend’s partner but would never do anything about it. Some knew they had been given too much change at the till and kept it. Some never tipped when they knew they should. But there was nothing of real consequence, no sin to cause harm enough to register towards their quota.
“There! There!” Al pointed into the crowd. “Two O’clock. Carrying an Iron Man messenger bag!”
“I see him, but...”
 “Homosexual!”
Lee frowned at Al. “How many decades has it been since they let you up here last?”
Al’s hand dropped to his side, his finger still pointing. “Not a sin anymore?”
“Never was.”
“But I thought-“
“Lots of people did. Turned out it was just a typo.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Love thy neighbour didn’t specify any type of neighbour for a reason. Funny how many people ignore that key fact when they find someone to fear. Nowhere was it written Love thy neighbour except the ones who are a slightly different colour or worship at a different church or fancy different people than you. That’s the problem with humans. Give ‘em an instruction clearer than pure spring water and they’ll still twist it to suit their own prejudice.”
“Oh.”
Minutes passed. Five or six pigeons were now vying for Al’s attention. One decided to try his luck with Lee and was swatted away.
“D’you think He did that on purpose?” asked Al.
“What?”
“Put all that stuff in there that contradicts all the other stuff.”
“Never really thought about it.”
“Because if you read the book, his side killed a lot more people than our side did. If he’s screwing with them he could easily be screwing with us.”
“Never really thought about it.”
“Maybe he’s a double agent. Maybe he runs both departments, just wears a different glamour when he manages us.”
“Shut up.”
“That’s no way to speak to people. Anyway, have you ever seen the two bosses in the same room at the same time?”
“No, but... no. I can’t see it myself. Ham sandwich? It’s got some of that red Welsh mustard in it, got a zing to it but lots of flavour.”
“Sorry. I can’t. Vegetarian. Got any cheese?”
The crowds ebbed and flowed to the clock of the day. Two more potential adulterers were tipped over the edge of temptation into action, one man planned to solve his financial woes by conning an old business partner, and one teenager decided to steal a Mars bar from the local Tesco express after finding he had left his wallet at home.
“Every little helps,” said Lee as he tapped away at his phone.
Al fed Red Leicester crumbs to a pigeon. “This job is harder than it used to be. D’you think?”
“Sometimes. Yeah, I guess so.”
“It’s as if they’re doing most of the work for us.”
“I know.”
“Remember  when everyone was expected to live by The Book?”
“Only in certain places, mind.”
“True, but it was easier then. Sin, or not a sin. Now it’s all ‘free thought’ this and ‘personal responsibility’ that. Where does that leave us?”
“Yeah, I know.”
More minutes passed. One person collected a tenner from the floor when they knew who had dropped it. A teenage girl in a denim jacket picked wallets and purses from the crowd. An adult male downloaded a Justin Bieber track to his iPhone in full knowledge of what he was doing, for reasons not even Al and Lee could fathom. They decided to leave that one alone.
Al drained the last of his tea and handed the mug back. “Got any crisps?”
“Got some Monster Munch.”
“They’ll do. Pickled onion or roast beef?”
“Beef.”
“Pass them over anyway.” He opened the packet and inspected the contents, frowning. “Oh. What happened? Didn’t these bags used to be bigger? And look, there can’t be a dozen in there!”
“You have been away, son. They’ve been like that for ages.”
After finishing the Monster-Munch, Al scrunched the packet and threw it over the edge of the roof. He watched as it opened a little way, and floated down to the steps below.
“Don’t do that, it makes the place look untidy.”
“We’ve a Hell of a lot more to worry about than that, my friend.”
“True. But still, don’t do it.”
“D’you ever think we’ve made the wrong career choice?”
Lee shrugged. “There’s only two options open to the likes of us. And really, we’re both two sides of the same coin. Once people start to question everything, start to act out of responsibility instead of the fear of retribution, we’re pretty much redundant. We need to be a lot more creative than we used to be.”
Al checked his watch and let out a long sigh. “Sod this. Shift’s over in ten minutes. May as well start packing up now. Tomorrow, I think, we’ll play this game at The Garrick Arms. Or maybe the Harp.”
“You mean clock off early? Isn’t that against the rules?” And two more auras, invisible to their owners, turned the slightest shade darker.
 
 
You can follow me at www.facebook.com/morganclarkauthor
To purchase my novels or audiobooks, please visit https://www.amazon.co.uk/Anthony-Morgan-Clark/e/B00JTHFCCG/ (Kindle and paperbacks). For all other electronic formats visit https://books2read.com/ap/8VKGAx/Anthony-Morgan-Clark.

​One thing I’ve noticed whilst trying to market my books, is that everyone -readers and writers alike-seem obsessed with the idea of ‘genre’. But consider this:
 
There's a boy, unsure who his father is. He lives alone with his mother, in a backwater. They make ends meet, but the rumour is, it's only because the local ruler gives her preferential treatment. Turns a blind eye to short taxes, gives a slightly higher price to the goods she sells him, that sort of thing.
The local ruler is a tyrant. Abuses his power, suppresses all opposition, takes what he want from whoever he wants, with impunity.
One day the boy comes across an injured stranger. Takes him in, nurses him. His mother wants the man out. The boy meets with the man in secret. The man tutors him, broadens the boy's mind. Teaches him how to fight. Tells him a secret.
'The tyrant is my brother', he says, 'and I'm here to kill him.'
What does the boy do? He hates the tyrant, but can he be party to insurrection? Can he afford to lose the favours his mother has earned?
One day his mother follows him. Discovers where he's been going when he should have been working. Questions him when he returns. The boy tells all.
She's terrified. She tells him, the stranger is your uncle. If the tyrant dies, all he owns should be yours, not his. We'll go to the tyrant tell him everything.
But the tyrant is cruel, and mean, and unjust. And the boy us too young to rule. Now he has to choose between his birthright and his conscience.
 
A decent story, I think, and one that's been told in one version or another countless times. Sometimes it's the plot that draws us in to a story. Sometimes it's the characters. But the genre?
I live Stephen King's writing. But my list of favourite books includes Hitchhiker's Guide, Discworld, Weaveworld, Watchmen, The Sandman, Of Nice And Men, and countless others. People are often surprised at this; as if a horror author should read only horror. I've lost count of the times I've heard, 'Oh, but you're a horror writer- you must have read X!' If truth be told, I'm not massively knowledgeable about the genre. I like Masterton's work, though am far from being an avid fan. Jack Ketchum is on my 'should read soon' list. So why am I not an obsessive horror reader? Sure, there are tropes that any genre author should be familiar with. And I think I've read (and watched) enough horror to be able to invert and play with those tropes.
But think about the story above. The two main characters, the boy and his mother, even in that brief unfinished sketch, have enough conflict to keep the reader hooked. And the uncle - is he as altruistic as he seems, or is he motivated by a cynical power grab? Is he just using the boy?
It's the story and the characters that have your attention. You don't know the genre.
The backwater is a farmstead, the tyrant a sheriff. You've got a western.
The backwater is a run-down asteroid mine, the tyrant the local administrator. You've got a sci-fi.
The backwater is a cottage in a swamp, the tyrant a wizard. You've got a fantasy.
The backwater is a post-room job, the tyrant a CEO. You've got a thriller.
My advice to readers is to not get hung up on genre. If the characters and story captivate you, the setting doesn't matter.

​There’s a McDonald’s. In fact, there are two. There's a KFC. A Burger King. A Domino’s. A Frankie and Bennie’s. All scattered along the bypasses and roundabouts strangling this town, dropped like Lego bricks on a sick child’s duvet.
The river runs through and away from the town. Sometimes it doesn’t matter where you’re running to, just that you’re running.
It’s fucking freezing, biting my fingers.
The trail walks along the river. Stop here. Look there. Think about this.
Mist hangs in funeral wreaths over the river. In the water a fluorescent jacket clings to a rock, covered in long strands of stringy weed. Bright eyes in a gaunt face. Carling, Bulmer’s, Stella; their detritus hides in the undergrowth on the banks. Interlopers, all. A phrase from a movie pops into my head: “Never shit where you eat.”
Here, in the mist and drizzle, tracksuits clutching Home Bargains carrier bags, baseball caps skipping college, minimum wage zero hours, zero opportunities, zero reasons to stay, is anybody hungry?
Fifteen feet of mosaic forms a mural. Trams. An industrial past, the skeletons of which are still in the valley’s carcass. Miners. Happy, smiling miners, hardworking men of the pits, industrious men, hard hats, a pickaxe over one shoulder, smiling, not coughing, not desperate for breath, not post-industrial destitute, not dying of lung disease and COPD before they can enjoy their pension, not leaving widows in terraced cottages as cold a tombs.
Black and grey spray paint, the cheapest, nastiest graffiti of meaningless slogans, names, crudely-drawn bollocks, cover the flat-capped chappie on the Penny Farthing, obliterates the tram and the generation-to-generation shops, and the exciting high-rise housing of the nineteen-sixties, a flash new scrapheap for those left behind.
Not art. A dirty spray-can Fuck You to the sanitised, gentrified, tourist history.
It’s glorious. And I wonder if India, if Hong-Kong, if Cairo or Sierra Leone or St Helena or Ireland are told what their heritage should be.

Through my time in self-publishing I've used Kindle publishing, Smashwords and latterly Pronoun. Pronoun was, for me, the easiest and smoothest tool for self-publishing. And, it was a platform that enabled me to access all e-book markets.
All that is now over.
A few minutes ago I received an email informing me that as of today, no new products can be uploaded to the service and no new accounts created. For reasons not really explained (come on Macmillan, you owe us that much!) the service will end in January 2018. Perhaps there are genuine business reasons. Perhaps it was all a data harvesting exercise. Who knows? Either way, I've downloaded all of my work and will now spend time I can't really afford to lose putting all my books back on Amazon and Smashwords.
This is a very important lesson. Whether you are publishing through an aggregator like Pronoun,or directly through Kindle You are at the mercy of another company's whims. It's the same for any platform you do not own. Just look at the faith we had in Facebook and how it was going to help us reach all those readers... and look now at how wide your reach is if you don't pay Mr Zuckerberg enough silver.
As indies we need more control over our work, our platforms, our marketing; everything. For several months now I've been looking at ways of hosting files for purchase via this website rather than relying on third parties. It's something I'm going to look at again in the coming months. What if I put everything through Smashwords, and they go to the wall? What if Amazon decide to charge indie authors for promotion? None of us can know what the future holds.

The full text of Pronoun's email is below:
Epilogue
Two years ago Pronoun set out to create a one-of-a-kind publishing tool that truly put authors first. We believed that the power of data could be harnessed for smarter book publishing, leveling the playing field for indie authors. 
We are proud of the product we built, but even more so, we’re grateful for the community of authors that made it grow. Your feedback shaped Pronoun’s development, and together we changed the way authors connect with readers. 
Unfortunately, Pronoun’s story ends here. 
While many challenges in indie publishing remain unsolved, Macmillan is unable to continue Pronoun’s operation in its current form. Every option was considered before making the very difficult decision to end the business. 
As of today, it is no longer possible to create a new account or publish a new book. Pronoun will be winding down its distribution, with an anticipated end date of January 15, 2018. Authors will still be able to log into their accounts and manage distributed books until that time. 
For the next two months, our goal is to support your publishing needs through the holiday season and enable you to transition your books to other services. For more detail on how this will affect your books and payments, please refer to our FAQ. 
Thank you for the time and attention you’ve contributed to this experience. It has been a privilege to publish together, and we look forward to meeting again. #keepwriting
Sincerely,
Macmillan Publisher

UPDATE: 
For reasons of ease and speed I have chosen to use Draft 2 Digital as a distribution platform, rather than Smashwords. 11all the links to my books are on the relevant pages.

Not so much a blog post this week. Instead I thought I’d share a short story with you. As regular visitors to my Facebook page will know, the 24th of this month sees the launch of my latest novel, Swarm.
The initial draft of Swarm was written very quickly. I tend to think at least one book ahead, so when I’m writing one I’m planning the next.
Swarm was different. I had the core of the story drafted in a few days. I was working on The Soul Bazaar at the time. My wife, who has trypohobia, came in from the garden. Something had bitten her on the cheek, leaving a small hole. What if it wasn’t a bite? What if it had laid an egg? Within moments I had Malcolm, Sandra, Iain and Emma’s story. As I played with the idea, I came up with Lucy’s story (though I changed her name several times before I found one that sounded right). But how the hell did such deadly insects come to be in a National Park?
Around the same time, I came across a flyer in my local library. The Dean Writers Circle was holding a short story competition to celebrate their fortieth anniversary. As it was a local competition I decided to keep the story local. I wrote a few stories that I placed in the forest, or in local towns. None of them felt ‘local’ once I’d written them. You could see they’d been dumped close by; they could have taken place anywhere. Then, whilst out with my family at Cannop Ponds, I saw an older guy fishing. Nothing unusual in that. But this guy looked asleep. Not just dozing, either. I mean, could-have-caught-anything-and-wouldn’t-have noticed asleep. So I began wondering why. I used to fish myself in the estuary near where I grew up. It was always a relaxing way to spend a few hours… until I got good enough to actually catch fish. I was never a fan of killing them, so I used to catch-and-release. Then one day I caught a flatfish that had swallowed the hook. A young, healthy fish too small to eat. I had to kill it. The act felt cruel and pointless. After that I lost the bug, and sold much of my fishing equipment at a car boot.
An old fellow who fishes but not for fish. Why? Fishing as a blood sport. And, by association, animal rights protesters. What if the fisherman had found himself a quiet spot away from picnicking families? What if the protester found him? What if the protester saw himself as some sort of vigilante? What if he valued the lives of those who kill less than the animals being hunted?
People think stories come from inspiration. They don’t. They come from questions. And with these questions I had a story and two characters. One of the characters, Spider, was a perfect fit for Swarm as well as The Stranger at Cannop Ponds.
 
 
 
The stranger at Cannop Ponds.
 
 
The lake was wide and dark and flat. Stalky grass grew in awkward tufts at the edge.  Above the still waters an overcast sky glowered, sulky clouds grey and low.
Aaron’s rod perched on its rest, his newspaper sprawled on his lap. His green canvas seat creaked as he shifted his weight. It was quiet out here. There was the breeze. Lapping waves. The swishing of traffic from the road.
Footsteps crept from behind. Padded almost, like a cat hunting birds. Aaron looked over his shoulder. He didn't recognise the face.
"Allright mate, how's it going?" Not a local accent.
"Not too bad. Nice day for it. Could do with a bit more sun, though." The stranger didn’t reply, only rocked on his heels. One hand stayed in the back pocket of his jeans. His eyes flickered from Aaron to the road at the sound of every passing car. Aaron tried again. "What's your name, but?"
"Spi- Simon. Caught much?"
"Simon. Aaron. Pleased to meet you. Where you from?"
"Just visiting. Staying in the Forest nearby."
"Ah, one o' the b’n’b's around, maybe Parkend, yeah?"
"Sure."
"I see. They're all pretty decent down there."
"Sure. This a good spot for it? How many have you caught?"
"Me? Ho ho. Let me show you something."
Aaron leaned forward and picked up the rod. The multiplier whirred like a showroom model as he cranked the handle. Yard by yard he reeled in the fishing line until it was clear of the water.
"You've lost the hook."
"Don't use 'em. Don't like fishing. But I can't drink, see. Diabetes, my doctor said. And we've no garden in the flat. I only work part time, to top up my pension. Wife's the same. Love her to bits, we've been together nigh-on forty years, you know. But her can't stand me being under her feet when we're both off work. So I comes down twice a week for a break."
"Why fish?"
"It's quiet. Out of the way. I can read my paper in peace, ‘er indoors gets a break from me. By the time you've parked up across the road, traipsed this far from the picnic area... I'm surprised you came here rather than there. There's a car park nearer it, if you want to pay. You must have missed it. Anyway, the wife, her sister's a carer. Looks after old people at home. Their own homes, you know. Drives back and forth along this road between Parkend and Lydbrook a dozen times a day. Always slows down to look. She'll let the old girl know if I'm not here. And if I’m not… well, that’s a whole load of questions I can’t be buggered answering." He proffered his flask to the stranger. "Tea?"
"No thanks, mate. I’m, ah, exploring. I'll be off."
"Oh. Right. Well, take care. Enjoy the rest of your holiday."
"Yeah, yeah."
Spider backed away from the lucky old man. He released his grip on the blade in his back pocket. Fishing was a blood sport, and those who took blood should be prepared to lose their own.
You can order your copy of Swarm for any device via this link.

It's been a while since my last blog post, I know. What can I say? I've been busy. I've completed Swarm, which you can preorder here. It's the first time I've commissioned a book cover rather than a piece of art I've turned into a cover. There's an obvious difference between the results of two approaches. I'd be happy to hear your thoughts on which you think is more effective.
I've also finally completed my first thriller, a short story titled 'Piece by Piece'. It's been through several iterations and several titles since I first started work on it. That was back in May, I think. It's the longest time I've ever spent on a short story. It'll be released soon. I'm giving it the final look over, and will get to it as soon as I've finished the initial marketing of Swarm.
Speaking of which, I was lucky enough to be included in the 31 Days of Horror promotion by a fellow author PJ Blakey-Novis. He reached out to me and several other authors via Facebook. Throughout the month of October he's showcasing up-and-coming horror authors, of which I'm one. You can check out his website here.
And that's it for this short post. Preorders for Swarm are already coming in. I've had a few readers review it too; the reviews will be published in the usual places closer to the release date on the 24th Oct. Please, if you do purchase a copy leave a short review. As I always say, reviews are crucial to an author's success - especially to an emerging voice like mine. I do appreciate every single one.
I'll be back next month with a regular blog post. Until then, take care.
​Anthony

As anyone who has been following me on Facebook knows, I’ve spent a lot of time recently recording tracks for my upcoming audiobooks. As with anything to do with self publishing, I’ve had to learn to do it myself, and learn quickly. If you’re interested in doing this yourself, here are telling tips to get you started.
Where to spend
There is, of course, a minimum outlay involved in this. Isn’t there always? I’m going to assume that you have a decent-spec computer or laptop. The biggest expense for me was the microphone, but even that wasn’t too expensive. A decent USB microphone is essential. Do a bit of research before buying one. There are several different types. I gave a Fifine Studio condenser mic, which I paid about twenty quid for. If you intend to use the mic for podcasts with other people a bidirectional mic may be a better purchase – though you will pay a lot more. A pop filter is essential too, but these are cheap enough.
The last essential is a set of good headphones. I picked up a pair of Sony monitoring headphones a few years back in a half-price sale. I only paid thirty-five pounds for them. What you need is a set of overhead phones with as little bias as possible.
Where to save
Software. You don’t need a high-end studio to record simple vocal tracks. Audacity is free and powerful. I use it, and I’m certain I’ll never use all of its features. There are also good quality free plug-ins available to enhance the program.
Audacity is simple to use once it’s going, but I’ll admit I found it a little intimidating at first. But that’s no reason not to do it. Writing was intimidating at first. The gym was intimidating at first. Releasing my work was intimidating at first. Everything is.  Thankfully there are tons of free video tutorials on YouTube, which I’ve made liberal use of.
Where to record
I’m lucky that the front room of my house is quiet enough to allow me to record. It’s also large enough that my voice doesn’t echo from the walls into my microphone. During term-time it’s ideal. During the holidays... during the holidays I cut back on writing activities and spend more time with my kids. I can write in the evening’s but the house is never quiet enough to record in. If I’m working to a deadline there are offices above my local library for hire at thirty pounds a day. They’re run by a local co-operative. If you don’t have a suitable space at home  it’s worth you finding out what local facilities you have.
Recording an audiobook is a much longer task than I expected. You won’t do it in one sitting – that much is obvious. Less obvious is the difference in sound between one recording session and another, if you’ve had to remove your equipment and set it out again. It’s essential to have the equipment set up in the same way each time you sit down to record, and to sit/stand the same distance and angle from the mic as before. A few discreet marks on the surface holding the mic can serve as a reminder of how to set it up again. If this is not possible then measure and make a diagram of the recording set up. This sounds like a hassle, but will ensure the finished product sounds like one professional recording rather than a series of recordings edited together.
Where to sit
Do a few test recordings to find the best place to sit and the best angle for the mic. You’ll want to be close to the mic to get as ‘dry’ a recording as possible. Try different angles to get as clear as sound as you can without the harsher p, b, and s sounds ‘popping’.
A word about posture. You should sit upright. Slouching will affect the quality of your recording and make the reading more difficult. I found I had to concentrate on my breathing as much as the words when I first started. Regular breaths, deep and steady, are the way to go. Sitting upright, or even standing, helps this immensely.
What to read
I find it easiest to read from the Kindle. It’s easier to prop up in a readable fashion, the text is scalable, and it has no pages to rustle. I find it easiest to read each short story or chapter in one continuous take, editing out all the mistakes afterwards.
What to wear
This may not seem important, but the more comfortable you are when you record the easier you’ll find the experience – and the better the final product will be. Wear something loose, and not too hot or cold.
You’ll also need to be aware of any jewellery you’re wearing. If anything clinks or rattles the mic will pick it up.
What to drink.
Water is best. Keep a beaker handy, and drink regularly when recording. Little and often is the best way to keep your throat moist when reading or speaking all day. A coffee or tea is okay too, though I find I need to leave the mic more often when I’m drinking caffeine. Avoid sugary drinks. They’ll give you a claggy throat and affect your recording.
When to record
This one’s up to you. I prefer to record in the mornings once the kids have gone to school. I’ll usually do two or three hours’ worth before moving on to another task – writing, drafting, social media, editing or mastering the recording. Try recording at different times of the day, and for different lengths of time to see what works best for you.
Those are my ten tips for recording your audiobooks and podcasts. If you have any to add please leave a comment! 
The Tor will hopefully be releases on Audible before Christmas. The Soul Bazaar is undergoing post-production.

​My bookstore can be found here.

​As a white, male author I have taken a great interest in the ongoing debate over diversity in fiction. The furore rages on every blog and podcast. At least, that’s what it feels like some weeks.
It fascinates me for several reasons.
Firstly, the number of people who don’t understand what ‘diversity’ means. It doesn’t mean inserting your minority of choice into everything you write. Homogeneity is homogeneity regardless of who you are writing about. If you only write, for example, sci-fi that takes place in a favela and features Hispanic characters, or fiction that only takes place in the Caribbean, or only features any one non-white ethnic group, then your fiction is as ‘diverse’ as any that features only white people. Case in point: whilst using Google to look for sci-fi magazines open to submissions I came across an online ‘zine that wanted diverse sci-fi presenting women in a nonstereotypical and empowering fashion, with a focus on bi and homosexual relationships. If that’s what you enjoy writing, then fine. If that’s what you want to focus on as a publisher, if that’s the niche you want to give exposure to, then great. The more writers granted a platform, the better in my view. It’s the pedant in me that objects to such a narrow, targeted market describing itself as “diverse” and “inclusive”. It’s neither. It shouldn’t pretend to be, and it has no obligation to be. If it was it wouldn’t be specialised, and those writers would likely have lost a voice.
It also doesn’t mean ensuring that people of colour, or women, or people with disabilities or any other group of people in your fiction have to be presented in an eternally positive light, as some commentators maintain. That’s unrealistic. People are complex. They are good, bad, aggressive, caring, greedy, ambitious and self-contradictory, and their gender ethnicity and sexuality have nothing to do with this. Cassandra is the lead character in Swarm, my next work to be released. She can be sarcastic, even caustic. She is loyal, but not foolish. She thinks Iain, her husband’s friend, is both shallow and stupid, and on occasion she lets this show. She is a strong lead female character, yes; but she’s not without her flaws. Rachael is the main protagonist in The Tor, but read between the lines of Rest and you’ll see she isn’t as all-powerful as she seems. She may be a negative force, but she retains some compassion, some humanity. Why else is she so reticent to lead Joseph along her dark path?
I get the need for diversity in fiction. People are all different, and all people can be found everywhere. In other words, to introduce diverse, three-dimensional characters into your work is to introduce a healthy dose of realism. Your ability to manage diversity is your ability to write realistic characters.
What I don’t get is the right some commentators think they have to impose their inaccurate ideas of diversity on other people. Yes, genres such as scifi and horror and action have an overabundance of male leads. Yes, roles for women in those genres tend to be limited in both number and scope, which is why characters such as Ripley and Janeway made such an impact on the screen. Can you name the literary equivalents? People of colour and people with disabilities are practically invisible in such roles.
In large part this has been due to the monolithic nature of the industry. White male publishers saw no market for non-white, non-male characters in these roles, which created no market, which in turn meant few stories were published. Yes, that’s a simplification, but the broad strokes are accurate. Certain groups of people were denied access to the market, whether that was due to a political choice on the part of the publisher; or due to a commercial decision, based on a mistaken belief that the market for certain types of fiction wasn’t big enough to show a return on investment.
However, the industry has changed. The market is both broader and more accessible than it was several years ago. Broader, in that more books are being sold to more people in more places than ever before. More accessible, in that books are cheaper to buy and to produce than they ever have been. Crucially, you no longer need a publisher’s permission to get a story out. I love to see the type of story traditionally considered ‘niche’ to find a place on the open book market.
It astonishes me how, in an age when anyone can write and publish a book on any subject for any market, people still expend time and energy lambasting authors for being too white, too male (phrases that some people use as pejoratives when discussing diversity, without any sense of irony). We live in a time of long-tail marketing, when every literary permutation has a market waiting to be tapped.
Now, I should clarify that I’m not saying that there’s no need for white male writers to fill their writing with a range of characters. Being able to do so is the sign of a good writer. What I’m saying is that we are not obliged to. And to those who read a stereotypical plot-driven novel full of white males and criticise it for being just that: move on. There are plenty of other novels available; perhaps you could even write your own. Are James Herbert’s early novels (I’m not a fan of his later works) any less entertaining for being white, plot-driven horrors? Of course not. Would it be boring if every horror was white and plot-driven? Definitely. Enjoying such novels for what they are does not mean you are against diversity in your reading.
The book market is becoming ever more democratised. Read what you like. Write what you like. And let others enjoy what they like.
What do you think? Do we worry too much about diversity in fiction? Is it a relevant debate given the nature of self-publishing? As writers, do you feel under pressure to be inclusive and diverse, or would you rather a diverse range of writers working in their own niches? Let me know in the comments.
 
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I've had several people recently ask me about my writing process. Mine evolves with every new project I start. Normally I don't reveal much about a project until I'm near the end, but this time I've decided to share the writing process with you. My current work in progress is a paranormal horror which I hope will be the first of several in the series.
I started off as a Discovery writer, but the process has evolved to the point where I now plot most books before I start the first draft. I find that this helps a lot with a pacing and structure of the novel, it helps me spots potential plot holes before they cause a massive rewrite, and I find it speeds up the writing process.
Whenever I'm out I carry an A5 notebook with me. This together with the Word app on my phone allows me to write whenever I get a few free minutes. However, the story I'm working on at the moment is something that I first thought of about three years ago, before I completed the first draft of The Tor. That's why in the photos you'll see the book is larger than A5. Smaller notebooks are great for carrying around with you, but the margins in the larger books mean I can make more notes on my notes as I'm writing. Longhope is going to be the result of two unfinished manuscripts that lacked a home until I realised the common ground between them, much like The Tor was the result of a whole raft of ideas floating around a central theme, only coming together once I mixed them up.
For the first time, I'm also using Google Docs to write my work via the voice input function. Or at least I will be. I'm using that right now to write this blog post and it's already increased my word count considerably. It’ll also be good for my RSI.
The plot of my current work in progress revolves around a woman in her 20s searching for her long-lost sister with the help of an older medium. It flips back and forth between the 1990s and the present day. The book will be titled Longhope, and I hope Vol 1 will be out next year.
I tend to write very quickly. I usually have several projects on the go at once, between my editing projects, my short stories, my blog, my newsletter, and whatever novel I'm currently working on. I'll be keeping you all updated with the progress of this new novel through my blog, and I hope you'll all be happy to join me as I discuss my progress and the problems that I encounter whilst writing this novel.
If you have any questions about my writing process or about any of my work, please feel free to message me via the website I will get back to you as soon as I can. I do try to respond quickly, but like most authors I also have a day job which often gets in the way of my real job (writing!) so please don't be disappointed if I take a little while to get back to you. I'm really excited about this novel and can't wait for the release, even though it's a long way off yet.
Once I've finished the plan I'll start work in the character bios. Stay tuned for those!
Feel free to share your writing hacks in the comments.

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