This is the first story in what was going to be The Dansk Finanzbar Chronicles, a series of loosely related short stories in the wonderful tradition of Raymond Chandler although my protagonist was not a private eye but a dreamer, a person who can change reality by dreaming about it, often involuntarily. Long story short, it didn’t work as I expected, so I turned it into a novel. This first story, along with a few others, I think, is good enough on its own, so I’m sharing it.
Author’s note: The ‘z’ in Finanzbar is German and not Danish but hey, that’s how I dreamed it and besides it’s a federation, so there. Continue reading A Bridge in the Sea
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but I like complaining. Yeah, I know, a lot of people like complaining and I think I know why: it’s kind of therapeutic. When you can’t change something (with the minimum effort), you sit back and start complaining about it, and eventually feel better. It’s bizarre, yes. My latest complaining target is the first draft of what I’d call “my second novel” if only “my second novel” didn’t sound so professional-writery. Continue reading The Perils of First Drafts
I knew something bad was about to happen the moment Rob walked out on the porch. It radiated from him in great big waves, this sense of badness, of wrongness. Continue reading The Hunting Party
If you’ve ever Googled “rules for writing” you’re familiar with the abundance of results that it returns, from Elmore Leonard’s 10 rules to all sorts of collections of different writers’ rules, to, of course, whole books on how to write well. Continue reading No Rules but One
Here’s a romantic story from a couple of years ago. Possibly slightly disturbing but who am I to judge. Continue reading The Book
The creature Carl saw when he opened the door was filthy. Its stink was even stronger than the odors Carl had more or less gotten used to already. It was filthy but it looked well-fed, which was why Carl did not shut the door in its face and the piece of cardboard it was holding in front of its chest saying ARM/LEG. Continue reading Through the Tunnel
This is a little people-trapped-together story I wrote a couple of years ago and included in a short story collection I first published and then unpublished on Amazon when I realised there was such a thing as magazines and anthologies out there that would give my stories a much better chance of being read by more than the five people who’d buy an unmarketed, unadvertised self-published collection. Continue reading The Situation