The Realm of Katherine Vick

  The Joy of Spectre Just to offer up fair warning, this blog discusses a scene that appears in my third novel, The Narrative , so if you haven’t read it (and if not, why not? Hmmmm?), spoilers lie ahead. Have you ever had more fun making something than you feel should strictly speaking be allowed? For me, that was the creation of Bob the Mysterious Spectre. There are very few things in my life that I have enjoyed writing so much. In many ways, Bob’s moment of glory was the very essence of what I was trying to do with Fodder’s adventures – an affectionate pastiche of a genre I love without pardoning it for its cliches and absurdities. The all-knowing ghost imparting deep and profound wisdom from beyond the grave is such a longstanding fantasy trope that I couldn’t not play with it – but how to make it work in the way I wanted it to? The answer was easy once the magic ring came into play – by having Fodder be the ghost and poke the requisite fun at the Merry Band for me. Becau

Happy New Year everyone! Your reward for making it this far is a story I wrote years ago for the writing challenge prompt "change" - a demonstration of the First Rule in action. ;)  Inevitable Beyond the narrow gate, the Rachsis horde were screaming. They seemed to stretch out forever, a writhing, shivering mass of gnashing teeth and air-tearing claws, gibbering, leaping and falling over each other as they surged forward like an unstoppable, bestial tide towards the tiny hilltop bastion where the last dozen brave survivors of the Kingdom of Cryna were huddled. Pale faces peered down over the battlements, hair lank, faces dirtied and battered but yet strangely unbowed, knowing as they did that they were the last hope and that all the kingdom, all humanity depended upon their actions. And the King was ready. The great hero, heir to the lost throne, who had emerged from a tiny farm in the middle nowhere to face the Rachsis threat with muscles gleaming and eyes shining with