Deathpunk – the cover!

The next element of my self-publishing masterplan is a badass-looking book cover. With the aid of my extremely limited Photoshop skills, a free font and a public domain image courtesy of the British Library’s Flickr Stream I cobbled together this easy-to-read, does-what-it-says-on-the-tin monochrome delight:


Now, it’s not obviously vampirey, but I wanted to steer clear of the trends you see in contemporary vampire novel covers – stock photo of blandly attractive young woman, an inoffensive quantity of blood, spooky red font etc.

So I hope that the combination of title and design makes it immediately obvious that it’s a) gothic/punky in tone b) takes place in Victorian times and c) is set in London. And the Tower of London, of course, carries its own set of ghastly connotations.  I would have liked to have thrown some skulls in there, but didn’t want it to look ‘busy’.


Ebook Formatting, baby!

I have embarked on the formidable task of formatting my book for e-readers.  I was not previously aware of this excruciating process, but thanks to the blessed guidance of indie author Joey Paul, and her excellent recommendation of Smashwords Style Guide, I am well on my way to creating an ebook that won’t make readers’ eyeballs ache.  I have to say, so far it is looking very sexy indeed.  I am anxious to unleash it on the unsuspecting public.  Brace yourselves.


I have just purchased ten shiny new ISBN numbers, for the princely sum of £149.99.  I’m not entirely sure if these are necessary for self-publishing, but hey-ho, in for a penny, in for a pound.  And hopefully it will motivate me to write nine more books so I get my money’s worth.

I suppose the next step is to re-jig my book so it looks lovely in ebook format.  This apparently requires more technical savvy than I possess.  Wish me luck.

Macbeth! The Story of Macbeth

I watched Macbeth last night, partly because of the lure of shirtless Fassbender, but also because FUCK YES THE BARD!!!

Shakespeare’s tales are saturated with the best and worst of human nature – lust, violence, madness, hilarity, love, vengeance, ambition – to such an extent that they’ve endured for over four centuries.  Not only that, but many lines are ingrained in our contemporary language as everyday idioms… a foregone conclusion, a sorry sight, all of a sudden, all’s well that ends well, dead as a doornail, as luck would have it, bated breath, more fool you, wild goose chase, vanish into thin air, there’s method in my madness, the short and the long of it, the Queen’s English, send him packing, in a pickle, and my personal favourite Elizabethan sexual euphemism, “the beast with two backs.”

Something that I find interesting about the stories themselves (aside from all the stabbing and cross-dressing) is that they were often already ancient when Shakespeare adapted them for stage.

An illustration from Holinshed’s Chronicles, which Shakespeare drew inspiration for the story of Macbeth from.

For example, the real Macbeth, or Mac Bethad mac Findlaích to give him his catchier title, ruled Scotland from 1040-1057.  In reality, Macbeth killed King Duncan in battle, and was later killed in battle with the English.  The popular 16th-century history book Holinshed’s Chronicles portrayed Macbeth as a stabby witch-botherer, and it was from this depiction that Shakespeare’s play drew inspiration.  Further influencing Shakespeare was the Stuart king James I’s belief that he was descended from King Malcolm.  Never piss off your patron, especially if he has the power to have you hanged, drawn and quartered.

And now a story that is a millennia old, once performed to catcalls and the throwing of rotten vegetables, can be enjoyed in the comfort of one’s living room, where every ripple in Michael Fassbender’s pectoral muscles is rendered in high definition.  It’s almost as though Shakespeare, whether through prescience or rampant egotism, had some inkling of his eventual longevity, as he states in the closing lines of Sonnet 18,

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
 So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Withnail & I Director Pens Jack the Ripper Book

 I was really excited when I heard Withnail and I director Bruce Robinson had spent 15 years researching the Ripper crime. Then I read what his theory was. No, Bruce, no!

Bruce’s 1st claim: The Ripper was the brother of James Maybrick, “author” of the most-definitely-fake Ripper diary. The fact that he gives any credence to the hoax diaries immediately makes me dismiss his theory on the Ripper’s true identity.

Bruce’s 2nd claim: The Ripper letters are all real and all written by his suspect, music hall songwriter Michael Maybrick. Nope. They all have different freakin’ handwriting and are (with the possible exception of the From Hell letter) all from the pens of enterprising journalists and attention-seeking nutjobs.

Bruce’s 3rd claim: The Ripper was a homosexual. Which seems very unlikely when you consider that every documented homosexual serial killer has targeted men.

Bruce’s 4th claim: The Ripper was a wealthy man who did not live in Whitechapel.  Personally, and this is the belief of a lot of Ripperologists and crime historians, I think the Ripper HAD to have been extremely familiar with the twisted alleyways and claustrophobic courts of Whitechapel in order to so neatly evade police and witnesses and return home with bloody clothes and hands.

Bruce’s 5th claim: After the Whitechapel murders the Ripper moved to the Isle of Wight and became mayor.  Again, it is my belief that something must have happened to terminate his escalating crimes – namely mental breakdown or death, or perhaps immigration.  Serial killers don’t generally give up at the height of their mayhem and retire to the Isle of Wight.

Bruce’s 6th claim: The anti-semitic graffiti “The Jews are the men that will not be blamed for nothing”, had nothing to do with anti-Semitism, and instead reflected that the Ripper was a Mason.  Now, aside from the fact that it’s likely the Ripper didn’t even write the graffiti, I think the particular local slangword for Jew that he allegedly yelled at Israel Schwartz (the Jewish man who witnessed the attack on third canonical victim Elizabeth Stride) indicates that the Ripper’s attitude towards Judaism was more symptomatic of the prevailing anti-Semitism in the East-End at the time.  It’s also been theorised that Schwartz refused to identify the Ripper in a line-up because he was a fellow Jew, in which case it is interesting that the Ripper would make an anti-Semitic remark, being himself Jewish.  It is assumed, based on the autobiography of Police Commissioner Robert Anderson and footnotes by Chief Inspector Donald Swanson, that Aaron Kosminski was the suspect that Schwartz refused to identify.

You failed me, Bruce. Still, I’ll probably buy your book anyhow.


The Copper Pentacle

When it comes to jewellery, my collection is fairly minimalist (by Essex standards, at least).  Certainly, I don’t covet jewellery the way I do frocks and high heels.  Which was why I was surprised to find this interloper in my bare-bones collection of jewellery:


It’s about the size of a British 2 pence piece, and made of copper.  I have absolutely no idea where it came from.

I’m not in any way superstitious, but even so I am vaguely weirded out by this.

I decided to do some research on the meaning of the pentagram and Hebrew writing.  Google is, as ever, my best friend, and I gleaned the following information…

This is a talisman depicting the Second Pentacle of Venus.  The pentacle comes from a Renaissance-era magical grimoire called The Key of Solomon, claimed to have been written by King Solomon, the guy with the mines (a bullshit claim, it turns out).


The entire book can be read in English here:

The letters around the pentagram (on my mysterious necklace) are the names of the spirits of Venus that this device is supposed to invoke, and the Hebrew around the edge reads, “Place me as a signet upon thine heart, as a signet upon thine arm, for love is strong as death.”  The purpose of this pentacle is, “For obtaining grace and honor, and for all things which belong unto Venus, and for accomplishing all thy desires herein.”  Sounds like it would be very useful indeed, if only I thought magic was real.

There’s a long explanation in the grimoire of how to use the talisman to conjure spirits.  It involves the stuff you’d expect, like candles, insence, chanting, black silk, virgin paper and obscure herbs.  To be honest it all sounds very bothersome and if I were living during the Renaissance era I’d much rather be drinking ale and watching criminals get broken on the wheel.  That’s without taking into account the fact that this was a banned book that would land you in very hot water with the Inquisition.

Despite my cynicism, I’ve been wearing this necklace every day.  Because even if I don’t think it will enable me to consort with the spirits of Venus, I do like the fact that it has an interesting story behind it involving books, ye olden days, and general what-the-fuckery.

I made a crappy website

Apparently my adventure as a failing writer requires a shoddily designed vanity website that serves no real purpose other than to convince myself that I have “presence”.

Yes, it looks rather empty at the moment, but hey, I’m brimful of good intentions!

I recall how I used to play around with Dreamweaver and Frontpage and now they strike me as involving a terrible amount of faffing when compared to modern built-it-yourself-you-twat website generators.

Now I need to think about what super-insightful, inspirational, hilarious, informative things I can post here.