Tuesday, 19 January 2016

Call for Feminist, Fantasy/SF, Writers & Poets: Dervish Tour


I'm looking for

16 writers with new, novella length releases or collections for 2016 (winter into spring) to participate in
8 weeks of promotional blog/web touring time
sun and weds posts
8 readers per work commenting
2 hosts & 2 authors per week
all in one, and one for all promomotion/involvement

The goal is to help generate an awareness of good writing to an online audience, noisily and with an attention each work deserves. To foster a sense of community and commentary.

The criterea is that the writing must be feminist, as in there is a principle upholding and feeling the fire of the fight for equality. A matter of concept, not a restriction on sex or gender. It must also have some speculative element, whether it be literal fictional dragons or a metaphor or poetical device of fact.

Each work should be around 30 pages, inclusive of story, essay and poetry. Each writer will need to supply a free copy of their work to one another. Participation of the Dervish Tour should not be limited to writers who can afford the retail prices of the works involved. Each of us will host once, read one peice of work a week and join the discussion for each, and write a small review to be posted on seller sites and our favoured corners of the net. We will all share links to the tour on our social media.

Once the writers of the Dervish Tour are gathered I will draw names out of hat to determine the writer and hosts duos. You will be in contact and told your slot, and the process by which you host is up to you.

If you are interested please contact


by Tuesday the 2nd of February 2016

Update 21/01/16

Dervish Tour welcomes on board the heroic Ambushed by Clark Kent for video promotions, check out the awesome below.

Saturday, 12 December 2015

Rewritten Narrativity

You thought you had one line
but really you have four
at least measuring half
 your height and a scraped knee
is stinging, mother hugging

looking at celestial clocks and glimmering
fir tress dressed in gold and glass
to distract the sobs that perhaps
a little contrived to extend
that loss of comfort.

But words are forgotten by the fire
chewing burgers and chips and quick quips
littlte sips, slow steps, jests boredom

you reveal a new tale: Jesus stolen forwith
from the manger, but no danger as
super donkey flies hoof raised to the sky,
the sheep are the baddies you see.

I teach him to project his voice,
brace myself, smile truely,
he mimics a volcano of words almost silently,
our eyes meet, I tell him I love him,
he does not reply
we hug before we part.

The Rose Key

Winter Solstice


Only Feminine #?

its the loss and the lonely time,
no holly wine quenchedparchedtongueholy
tasting past love spent in regretting
a world gone awry, all unjusified axis
axeing ropes of fragile hopes

Yet all our hearts still beat (but for those that don't)
born of relatively free feet, wheel, wing, string

and weeping tears, all ears dears damning
a cresting wave of hurt, rotundled yon fronds
of tangle weed knowing
Un tongue

Unfurling, love.


Friday, 11 December 2015

Only Feminine #?

You may distract me with
         Lots of things
But I hope you see
        the themes

Monday, 7 December 2015


My personal life is so shit it is absurd.

I had to settle in court, for now. Had to be 'realistic' by looking at the current circumstances and lack of evidence, not how they came about...like removing my child with no consent via parental responsibility, or failing to return him as per the court order that existed at the time. I tried my best in limited circumstances.

I don't have enough capacity to say much else on the subject at the moment, except that "it's not your fault" is vapid reassurance. Failure is failure. My son now resides with his father, I am surrounded by abusers and exhausted.

The fight will go on though, I will get him home.

To stop myself from having a complete breakdown I have been submersing myself in work, in trying to make one aspect of life somewhat fruitful.

So don't run away coz its all dark on the blog, the coming posts will be more positive.

Monday, 5 October 2015


I being reckless, you see
forgetting what it means to be
little mouse, all grey and eaily lost
in shadows, cobwebs, broken seeds
that should have helicoptered like whisers of
philosophy in autumn

when it was too late and all already undone,
punctured twice,
and, twice,
Bitten words in golden silence. like the nuns.
like the bats, how they swoop
like dragons
fear the flies, they come with

I just climbed too many trees, read
too many books, leafed through paths
of old and longed for dust
and bones of anciant stories
still felt like the brush that sweeps and
reaveals, or clay that clings
till it hardens
in the sun
the golden light
the beams that alights petals, roses,perfume,freedom,lie blown glass through the
leaves, just leaves
and whispers
and silence

Worst, at such a tender age, i already knew
as far as such knowing ever
knows nothing
know nothing
but whatcan nothing shelter against but cold and quicknowing, all themore
brutal for the not and the until and the then and the after and the next time and time after until
the break, the light, the gleaming, the cunning, the wild, the flight, the fight
the half step shuffleonto apath where you
where you maybe dont get hurt
where, with strive, you maybe more than
where maybe you maye able to save the only
one worth saving

all the truth spindled up

if the cogs dont chew you up first
of course