Fiction and Bullsh*t

trinketFAO anyone who stumbles across this blog.

I haven’t been uploading recently because life, but I’ve actually got a lot of material ready to go. If you are really unlucky I’ll upload my Elder Scrolls fan fiction.

I won’t be doing any more book reviews because I’m just terrible at them. Also I like reading literary criticism, but I’m not really sure my opinion is useful to anyone. And I’ve literally got a folder full of unfinished stories here and some of them aren’t terrible. It seems very lazy of me to be writing sloppy reviews when I could be doing that.

So first of all I’m going to finish my London story (terrorists can get fucked), and then in the new year we will move on to phase two, something different: probably another London story, but one grounded in reality, not science fiction. In this case a story I started a few years ago that concerns a particular type of Englishness I wasn’t sure really existed, and now I’m 1000% sure absolutely exists.

Sometimes I wish I could find a genre and stick to it.

So that’s how the future looks, of course I won’t get paid for any of it, but I do work on some books for other people in my spare time and there’s no reason I shouldn’t do both and attempt to be, as someone once said of Orwell, ‘the wintery conscience of a generation’. Because I’ve had time to think about why I write, and I think it presently comes down to this: to expose hypocrites. To rail against hypocrisy wherever I see it. Even if, sometimes, it’s only in myself.

As Agatha Christie once said: ‘that’s the killer.’

Merry Christmas.

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