BLACK SAND

              From chapter 8 no less , comes the vision described as "Black Sand " . I was in Kingston at the time it occurred , sitting by the river , peaceful and alone . Water draws me , I cannot say why .

              

                           Above , a hollow sun with curved flames radiating outwards hung motionless in a space where the sky should have been . Below , black sand covered all with the exception of rocks that erupted out of the dead earth . Voiceless this place , no sound emanated from any direction  , no hint of even my thoughts disturbed the air , all was nothing and nothing was all . A void devoid even of itself .
                          The snake was immense , yet came into being with no warning . Perhaps it had lain there unnoticed waiting to display itself since I had been born  . Perchance my arrival had caused it to come into existence only then . It rose up , higher and higher , and was covered in feathers that spread out into wings with which it blotted out the sun . To witness this marvel raised no curiosity even when it grew so vast as to be no longer visible , there was in fact no time to feel so for my location changed as the world moved around me .
                         I dreamed of a hollow sun
                         Spinning endlessly through the void
                         Suspended in black eyes
                         Unseen by any but I
                         Even the sand beneath my feet was lifeless

                         No fires range there
                         Far older is this place
                         Remnants of some great mind
                         That had collapsed an age ago
                         Hiding from itself

                         What echoes ranged silently
                         Over each and any thought
                         Removing all trace of need , or self
                         Devising hidden words whilst
                         The savant lay a dreaming

                         I dreamed of skies that were not there
                         Of stones and rocks that spoke
                         Where a serpent clad in feathers
                         Spread his wings in that place where
                         Even the stars refused to look
                         

LAUNCH DATE !

               Welcome , whoever you may be . Here is a small item that may be of interest . THE KEY OF THE STORM IS ON SALE ! Admittedly 'tis for advance orders , but you can if you so wish pre-order via waterstones , amazon , etc . The actual release date is Dec 21st 2011 . Thanking you , and anyone else who comes to visit and especially if you do buy my book . 

BISHOP REYNARD

                     From  "The Key Of The Storm ", chapter 9 , " Bishop Reynard " is based on one of a series of visions that make up the bulk of the book . If it seems strange to some then ponder this , why did I undergo them in the first place ?

                    The Pious come to be absolved
                    By the Bishop in the box
                    For over them he has a hold
                    Praying prey ? Oh wily fox !

                    Queueing quietly they arrive
                    The godly come to pay the fine
                    The priest who has his flock to drive
                    Can pick and choose on whom to dine .

                 " New members of our congregation I see not , so who might you be ? " . A Bishop emerged , in full regalia , with the head of a fox raising his hand as if benediction , " Timeo danaos et dona ferrentes , " he grinned showing sharp white teeth . Whether a warning to his followers or to us I could not say  , perhaps to both or maybe he was just revealing his intentions from the start . " Neither of you are lost  , so you knew your way in the world before  , of that I'm sure  . If not lost then you're not mine , so speak your peace for now's the time " . 

THE SEVENTH DAY

               A post now with a bit of a jump , all the way up to chapter 12 . Just an excerpt , and a poem . What's it all about ? That's for you to find out .

               This was indeed a place of wonders , time existed when it felt like it . Days could be years , years could be seconds . To dwell upon such matters would not help my situation nor would it do to ignore them . A dichotomy of the soul came to pass , laden with a freezing of the thoughts . The more I tried to comprehend the more indecisive I became , and this in itself produced a fearful , if not terrifying reaction . As the dream of the Queen had faded into nothingness , so did my surroundings . I found myself between worlds .


                                        Thoughts my own , or Calibans' ?
                                        Whispers carried on a dream
                                        A certain voice carries from afar
                                        Such a reasonable request it makes
                                        How agreeable it seems
                                        So easy it would be
                                        To bring the fires spoken of so highly
                                        Here to burn
                                        So brightly

TO ANSWER THE QUESTION OF "WHY ? "

                        "Why ? " . A few people have asked this question , it's a tad frustrating in that the answer given in reply never seems to quite satisfy them . I started " The Key Of The Storm " purely to see if I could get down on paper my thoughts and memories of certain experiences , the original intention was just too see if I posted bits on my f/book pages and those sites I visit would they get favourable responses . They did , and so it became a serious attempt to try to communicate with others to see if they had endured similar occurrences . As it happens , some of those who read my work had , and so it continued to a point where I wrote with the hope of  being published .

                     " Where do you get your ideas from ? " , is another question that has cropped up as has " Is it hard to write ? " . Ideas ? I'm writing about things that have happened , whether you believe it or not , and to be honest half the time it just seems to take over and I'm barely aware of  the fact . Sometimes thoughts come into my mind that clearly aren't mine , that's for sure . Perchance I should have stayed on the depression pills , mayhaps 'tis true that I am more than just eccentric . Who can say ? Betimes I wonder , and 'tis likely others do too .

FENRISULFR

               Moving along with chapter 1 , part 2 is concerned with an experience that occurred back in 1990's . Suffice to say 'twas not a pleasant one , albeit an enlightening one nevertheless and it did teach me caution . To a degree .

                                                           Night , choose your masque
                                                           Hide my screams
                                                           For refuge sought
                                                           Within such dreams
                                                           Brings no succour
                                                           Nor timely respite
                                                           From the Wolf
                                                           That now follows
                                                           Eyes darkly bright
                                                           Fenrisulfr ! He comes
                                                           His hunger impatient
                                                           Unbound now , unchained
                                                           With anger unsated

TWO TREES , A CELT AND HIS SEED

             I know what you're thinking , 5 posts already but not much about the book . So here it is , the opening of "THE KEY OF THE STORM"
              

             To the West a City of Towers , resplendent in its strength dominating its surroundings , connected by a rarely used trail that traversed a scrubby wasteland to a series of low laying hills that fell away to the East . A desolate , frost spattered , tract of land that was seemingly devoid of both hope and life with the exception of two , broken , stunted , trees that sat together on one side of the trail for all the world looking like a pair of elderly sisters who sought solace in each others company from the ravages of an uncaring world . Their bare branches reminded me of withered hands raised accusingly to the sky that watched impassively from above . A flat stone of immense stature lay opposing them on the other side of the trail , covered in faded markings that possibly once were runes of some sort and remarkably free of moss or lichen . Perhaps it was waiting to see if they might recover their youth and spring back to life I mused . Sitting on this lonely rock I surveyed my surroundings , strangely calm of mind .
            

ALL IN THE MIND ?

                This is actually from the third book I'm working on ," The Child Who Died From Other Tales"

                 Mayhaps ' tis merely mind fraught schism
                 That lends belief to such a vision
                 Quietly words from Voices come
                 Half heard yet they linger long
                
                 

THE KEY OF THE STORM ; FORTUNE SMILES

       When I first began to write  The Key Of The Storm , sometime around April or May 2010 , I really didn't know whether I was doing so purely as a cathartic exercise or with the hope of it being published and thereby allow others to read it . Around this time I signed up to Facebook , and as time passed was offered the chance to display examples and excerpts on a forum wall by the rather wonderful Ali Bevan . Jumping at the chance I readily did so and was , and I'm being honest here , was amazed to find that people liked it . Over time , and many rewrites , the book evolved .
      www.taraforum.com

      No longer just to keep myself busy , especially with the responses I was getting , it took over and became a whole new life so to speak . So , a tiny bit more background info done with and more importantly a big thank-you to Ali Bevan , Heather McAlendin( hmcauthor.livejournal.com ) , and all those at the Tara site ( and it's twin site the Glastonbury Goddess pages on F/book , and those friends on my own  F/book pages . The next few posts will be about the book and excerpts from it .
                                           Hailsa

DAVID PARRY

So , it begins .Not with news about my work , nor even excerpts from the books , but with a little bit about someone else . Why ? Why not ? And the first person I'm going to place here is David Parry . Now he's a clever old sod , university and all that , and has been a friend for some years . In fact my best friend and a major influence , and despite the fact that some might think that this is a blatant bit of plugging it's not . Perchance 'tis true to a degree , for I have read his books . I'm even mentioned in one . Yaaay for me . David actually runs his own theatre group , so if you take the time and preferably after you've done with me for the day take a look on facebook and search out  "Gruntlers" and  " Occult Theatre "  .

Boyh of David's books are published by Mandrake of Oxford ,