Fell Down A Hole

It was going fairly well. At one point in the first week of July I was rewriting a chapter each day. Then I got into a complete funk for a few days in which I wasn’t in the mood for anything other than watching Chill With Bob Ross with the lights off. Battling through this book was off the agenda because it felt exactly that, an uphill battle with no guarantee of anything at the end of it. Whatever it was it gnawed a big hole in my confidence.

I bought more notepads the other day. I probably didn’t need anymore but I wanted to write some stuff in my biggest notepad and found some written stuff from around 2009. It was a ten year echo from what felt like another dimension. There were notes about sending emails to people I can no longer recall, scripts that were dead ended long ago and half finished character profiles. I didn’t want to write anything else in that book as it just felt like adding to previous failures. A fresh one has a better outlook.

I’m thinking I might start working on a couple of short stories just to have an outlet that won’t be a massive fifty thousand word mess. It might prove to be a stupid idea in the long term as it’ll take even longer to get the book done but when was I ever in a rush?

Fret For Your Lawsuit

It’s probably a big mistake to start thinking about new projects before you’ve finished the current one but, as I get towards the end of this story, I’m doing exactly that.

Writing another book will really depend on how well this one goes. This entire blog was created at a time when I was writing a short play and U haven’t written another one since. I’m proud of giving it a go and happy it got performed but I’m not sure bothering a stage again is in the future.

Same goes with a short film. I wrote one, it got made and I have yet to return to the format.

Essentially I seem to be trying a hand at any given medium and seeing what sticks.

Next might be a game. A lovely, story driven downloadable game. We’ll see what shape that takes as the time comes.

The List At The End Of The Universe

Blame it on getting past the halfway marker on the book but I’ve been thinking a whole lot about endings recently. A chain of thought that led from the ending of the book and spanned further outwards into how everything ends, eventually stopping in one form or another. Then I began to think about ideas and projects of my own.

It’s said that Stanley Kubrick only made one film of each genre. Whilst I’ve had a look at his filmography and that statement isn’t completely accurate there is a tendency to regard his main cannon of movies cornerstones in their particular field. His Science fiction movie was 2001, his horror The Shining, his comedy Dr Strangelove and hell knows what Eyes Wide Shut was going to be.

I have no idea if this will be the only book I ever write. For something that I felt like doing just to give it a go it’s going fairly well. Any thought that I’d have it done by the time the clocks go back has pretty much faded right now though. If it is the first and last book I ever write then at least I can say I’ve written one.

This in turn got me thinking about all the small, one time projects I could do and then never make another one of that particular type again. Then I got down to writing a list.

1X Short Film.

When I was in college one of my tutors encouraged us to write a list at the start of each week with what you hoped to achieve. He added that he always put something at the top that either you’d already done or were close to doing so you could cross it off straight away and have a psychological boost right off the bat. This would be mine. Already done, made and screened. One day I’ll stop banging on about it.

1X Feature Film

Still working on this one, script have been done but nothing picked up yet.

1X Book

Currently in progress.

1X Comic Book.

I’ve always had a few ideas kicking about for a comic book actually but I cannot draw to save my life so I’d need somebody who could.

1X Album

Once again I cannot play any musical instruments at all but about a year ago I went round to a friend’s house who certainly can. We had a system running where I hummed stuff and he translated it into guitar and drums. It was a really fun day and we had something akin to a song by the time we were done. The idea of just making one album or strange bleeps and bloops, never playing it life in any way and only producing about three physical copies of it just appeals to me.

1X Radio Play.

Something creepy with sound. Quite doable on a really low budget, at home with decent microphones too.

1X Published Short Story.

In a magazine or something along those lines.

1X Video game.

Probably something with a bit of story to it especially as I’m really only able to make text adventures right now.

1X Any of the above but under the banner of Doctor Who

Because the day I get to write ‘TARDIS lands’ I will truly have to stop myself from flipping out.

Working through this list I feel I could die a happy man. Probably quite poor but still happy.

The Glass Jarred Dust Of All That Remained

The occasion has arisen when, whilst writing one script, I feel that the idea was possibly stronger and better for another one that I was just planning out. Then that thought process carries on to thinking if that better idea would be better still if it wasn’t a film script at all but a book. A straightforward book when the costs of locations for filming could be jettisoned out of the window at great speed and shatter on the pavement below.

One great thing in the positive marker for this would be the fact that text would be complete with only me working on it. It wouldn’t need another person to agree to it after reading, making sure it was worth putting on screen and taking the time and the money to gather everything needed and go forth and make the thing. The idea would be there, it would only take me to get something readable.

But then I’ve never written a full scale book before and I probably think very visually anyway so delving into such a different craft is probably not something that would come off well. Also, putting some changes into a ninety page script is fine but I can only imagine the pain of having to change paragraph after paragraph of pure text.

Yet, I still want to see what it would be like.

Time Is My Business Mr Scarman

Right then, if you missed the first part of ‘Hunters Of Gods And Demons’ then catch it here. If you’re one of those who’ve read the first part then I thank you very much. If you’ve read it and commented on it or mentioned to me you’ve read it then I thank you even more.

Here’s part 2 alongside my thoughts at the end.


He was standing on a small pile of rocks as if taking to a stage. He pointed his torch upwards towards the ceiling. The beam of light shone up towards the high stalactites. The sound of water ran through the cave, a small stream just to one side.

Do you know the difference between stalactites and stalagmites dear boy?” he asked.

I hadn’t found quite enough time to gather my thoughts.

I’m sorry, what was the question?”

Stalagmites and stalactites, the difference between?”

I thought for a small moment. This information had probably been put in front of me in school but, after what had just happened, I found myself in no position to recall. Sensing my hesitation Philip pushes forward.

Tights always go down!”

He chuckled at his own joke for a few seconds. I found myself smiling along with him.

What just happened?” I asked.

He folded his arms.

Are you one of those people who gets shown a magic trick and instantly tries to work out how it was done?”

Doesn’t everybody?”.

Yes” he replied “but some take a few moments to enjoy what they’ve just seen instead”.

I turned around to face where we had come from. There was no wind blowing through the entrance we had just come through, no view to the outside world, no sunlight. There was only a wall of dark stone. I held out my hand thinking the rocks would part again. My fingers hit only the cold rock and stopped there.

How do we get out?” I whimpered.

Out?” said Philip “I was rather thinking more of going further in, I have something to show you”.

He jumped down off the rocks and walked away. I quickly followed. The lights from our headlamps illuminated the cave just enough to see ahead. We walked alongside the small river, taking small steps and edging our way through the dark. Eventually the high ceiling narrowed down into a tight tunnel, the walls smoothed down. Eventually we both had to stoop in order to continue.

What did you want to show me?” I asked, still thinking exactly why I was down a narrow tunnel.

Sometimes people forget” Philip started.

Forget what?”.

Beliefs that become outdated and talked of less and less” he said, pressing onwards down the tunnel and never turning to face me.

What has this got to do with a mountain?”

When they’re forgotten about, many Gods or demons go into hiding from mankind, only occasionally emerging to rattle a few cages here and there”.

There was a silence as this thought hung in the desperate air for a while.

Philip stopped, turned around and held his hand on my shoulder.

I think I may have found one”.

For a short while I was glad that Philip seemed to have a plan for this impromptu expedition. Upon thinking more about it I had a sudden need to ask a very important question.

Is this a God you’ve found or a Demon?”.

If I asked you to name the God of Mischief who would you say?”


Philip’s face turned downwards, as if almost disappointed by my response.

Most people would say him but there were more with that title”.

The tunnel opened out once more, easing the atmosphere and making the walk much easier. I turned my head only for my light to settle on a stone figure. It was around six feet tall or thereabouts, muscular and dressed in furs. The figure’s face was covered my a mask which looked at first glance to be made of bone with antler horns positioned at the top. Held aloft above one shoulder was a spear with sharp flint at the tip. I reached out a hand to touch it.

I wouldn’t if I were you” said Philip “Anything here is property of the Gods, they may not take kindly to a mortal meddling”.

I quickly retracted my arm as Philip continued walking.

What is it though? Who?” I inquired.

A guard positioned at the threshold” came the response.

Threshold of what?”

Philip pointed further down the tunnel towards a light in the distance. We both gathered pace down towards the doorway. Philip walked in first, keeping to the edge of the room. He stood waiting for me to arrive.

What say you of this?” he said, looking almost proud of what was in front of him.

The tunnel through the mountain had suddenly given way to something that looked almost purpose built. It was a large room with tall walls that supported a high ceiling. All were perfectly smooth, almost marble in appearance. Sunlight shone down from gaps in the upper levels leaving round disks of gold on the floor. In the centre of the room there was a large wooden table with intricate carvings across the surface. On each leg of the table were carvings of the same antlered mask worn by the guard outside.

Philip waited for the initial amazement to pass.

This isn’t on the map they give to the tourists” he said.

I shook my head “No, it certainly isn’t”.

There’s talk around this place of a God called Bevran”.

I searched in my head for anything like that name.

I’ve never heard of anybody…”

Philip cut me off.

I refer to my previous point”.

He propped his stick on the table and tapped the wooden surface.

How did you find this place?” I asked.

Philip took a deep breath.

Local legend mentions Bevran being a figure who used to walk the mountain and the woods here. He would pop up every once in a while to remind the mortals he was still very much here”

Have you seen him?”

Not he himself, I’ve only recently discovered this place”.

But how did you make it here, walking through the rocks?”

His voice went low.

I went looking”.

And why show me all this?”

So that somebody else would believe me”.

The room was peaceful, if I strained my ear enough I could just about hear the birds chirping in the high parts of the mountain. There was a satisfactory stillness to the area.

The sound of a footstep came from down the tunnel, quickly followed by another. For a second Philip and I looked at each other as we both tried to silently think what it could have been. An animal of some kind perhaps? Surely not this deep down? Philip stepped away from the table, never taking his eyes off the doorway.

I think it’s been noted that we’re here” he called.

Standing in the doorway was the guard. No longer was this figure made from stone but now of flesh and bone. It’s masked head turned towards both of us before raising the spear over it’s shoulder. It jerked forwards as if trying to shake of years of inactivity. Philip, for reasons known only to himself, proceeded to copy this movement with his stick. There was a stand off over the table. Philip turned his eyes towards me.

Whilst I’ve got him like this I suggest you run” he shouted as the guard brought the spear down, taking a chunk of wood from the table. I turned and ran, only once turning back to see that Philip was not following. I hurtled down the dark tunnel, cowering as best I could through the smaller gaps. It was then I became aware the sound of the footsteps had not gone quiet. Gulping down air I forced myself onwards eventually meeting the stream. The antlers of the guard’s mask scraped across the rocks of the tunnel behind me.

I reached the end of the cavern and had to stop in front of the rock wall. The stones themselves seemed to stand out even in the darkness. I twisted around only to see the outline of the guard running towards me, spear ready. If it had worked before, I thought to myself, then I must work again.

Gathering pace I threw myself headlong towards the wall fully expecting to smash directly into it. Instead the rocks parted and I found myself once again running through the shadowy cloak of the mountain. This time however I did not have Philip’s hand to hold. I could only close my eyes and hope that the guard would not or could not follow. My head was down, a full on charge through chance hoping my luck would hold. My legs could no longer keep up the pace and I collapsed, sucking in every last bit of air I could.

When my eyes opened the sunlight shone down. The early morning sun had risen high in the sky and the grass had lost the dew. The opening of the mountain that had parted for me showed no signs of breaking, the face still steadfast and solid. Philip was nowhere to be seen. I quickly started to dig around in my pockets for the advert I had torn from the newspaper that morning. Once it was back in my hands I unfolded it only to see that it was blank. A scrap and nothing more with no words or numbers upon it. I thought about calling the police to report Philip missing but I had doubts they would ever believe me. A raving lunatic pointing and screaming at a blank piece of paper.

I walked back to my car, staring blankly at the walkers and mountain bikers who were passing in the parking area. I sat in the driver’s seat and took a few deep breaths before turning the ignition and pulling away.



It tails off a bit at the end there doesn’t it? The pay off of finding a dining table after walking through some rocks probably wasn’t the best idea either. The attempt to get across that Philip is also Bevran ain’t exactly done too well either. Also, it’s really obvious I read Neil Gaiman a lot.

For a knock about piece I did when I was waiting on some technology to work it’s not bad. I haven’t written anything like it in a long while.

Feel free to ask questions about it or tear it apart in the comments below. I won’t cry honest. 🙂

Deeper Into The Mountain

I should be playing Street Fighter V.


It might be released worldwide officially today but I ordered it from a very nice website that managed to send it out first class post on Friday meaning it was here on Saturday night. I’ve had a couple of hours on it over the weekend, enough to remind me that I’m rubbish at it but I still enjoy playing it.

Instead of this I’m writing. Getting further through ‘Hunters of Gods and Demons’ short story which, as a complete surprise to me, I’m actually enjoying writing. I’ve never really done much in the way of writing in the first person before but it seems to be flowing well because of it. I’m not typing away and hating every single word of it as has happened so many times in the past.

When I write a script I’m just applying dialogue to a set up and it would take somebody to come along and film it for it to be a final product. Writing a story means it’s already in the final stage after it’s typed up. It’s pretty cool to have a reaction to something I’ve written almost straight away. The fact I was greeted by a workmate today asking “What’s in the mountain Cam?” was also a pleasing moment.

Part two should be up here in the next couple of days. We’ll find out exactly what’s in the mountain in due course.

Buddy Holly

I haven’t finished the story yet.

It’s odd that something which I started purely to waste time whilst a blog post wasn’t working has now become something which I feel I must finish. It’ won’t be tonight however as it’s 11:30 and I have work in the morning. I’ve reached what might be the halfway point.

In fact, I might as well do this thing in two halves. Here’s the first part. Please bear in mind it’s been ages since I wrote any kind of short story so I’m open to it being torn apart and/or kicked to death.


The advertisement in the newspaper had stood out on the page. ‘Adventurers wanted’ were the bold letters on the top of the column, framed by requests for scrap metal and antiques. The page was already upon the café table when I took my seat. Before the coffee had arrived I had examined the wording twice, trying to fill in the missing details as I went along.

‘Long Lost Gods And Demons To Discover.

Please Phone For Details’

I had carefully torn around the edges of paper, stealing the words for myself so nobody else may enquire before I was able. My breakfast arrived and I quickly placed the scrap of paper in my pocket as if it were a contraband substance. The waitress had looked at me, noticed the hole in the middle of the page and possibly thought better about asking why. In between chews of bacon and pancake I had fumbled for my phone to dial the number. There had been no answer and so I had left a message in a low voice. Only a couple of fellow diners raised their eyes from their phones and magazines upon hearing me mention gods and demons. After leaving my number I put my phone back on the table, watching the screen go black after a few seconds.

The frantic moments seemed to have passed. Everybody around me appeared to be going about their day as normal yet my mind still whirred on what creatures could be living nearby that would warrant somebody’s help in finding them. This place was fairly rural with one road running though it. The occasional gathering of buildings were placed almost only to break up the monotony of trees and rocks. It was hardly an opening to hell.

The phone began to buzz across the table, causing the gentleman next to me to tut loudly as it broke the atmosphere. My hand dived to scoop it up from the table before answering it.

Hello” I said cautiously.

Were you calling about the demons?” came the voice of a older man on the other end.

And the Gods as well” I replied.

Are you close to the mountain?”.

About a twenty minute drive”.

Excellent, I’ll meet you in the car park and explain more there”.

He hung up. Leaving the money on the table I paced towards the door, rattling around in my pocket for the car keys as I went.

The drive was accompanied by the sounds of local radio, a phone in about the price of the postal service and how deliveries were being cut down. The sun cut low through the branches overhanging the road. ‘Drive Carefully’ the signs read ‘Beware Animals In Road’. The voice of a now former postman chimed through the car as I pulled into the parking space.

There was initially nobody else around. I switched off the engine yet kept the keys in the ignition. There I sat for a good five minutes or so watching through the windscreen for any other movement. I heard myself speak out loud, in the privacy of the car, saying this had all been far fetched and nobody was really there. If anybody was then they were currently looking through the undergrowth at a man who had fallen for the gag.

Then, from over the brow of the nearby hill, hobbled a man in his 50’s. He carried a stick in his left hand and wore beige trousers and a checked shirt. On his feet were a pair of brown walking boots. He scanned around the car park, holding his free hand over his brow to stop the sunlight from hitting his eyes. He squinted in my direction before slowly beginning to walk over.

I opened the car door and before I could stand he was extending his hand towards me. “Philip Braithwaite” he smiled alongside a jostling handshake “Sorry about not answering the first time, not much mobile reception in the caves”.

Caves?” I asked.

Indeed” he said with a shine in his eyes “Certain creatures don’t like the broad daylight you see”.

He reached into his pocket and brought out a head lamp, the kind that miners use. “You might well need this old boy” he said. I wrapped the soft cloth around my head ensuing the light was facing front. Philip had already turned around, walking back in the direction he had came from. Without turning back he cried “Good to be keen, follow me”.

The stick was no barrier to his movement. I launched myself over rocks and across streams which lapped away at the forest floor. I had only a few moments to look up and see him becoming a small speck in the distance. “There’s a footpath soon” he bellowed back to me. Maybe, I thought to myself, this is some strange man with stories to tell and I should leave him to those. The thought of giving up and just allowing him to walk on ahead occurred to me and yet it was instantly replaced by the question of why anybody would place an advert in the local newspaper asking for help in whatever he thought he would discover.

We arrived at the base of the mountain. The promised footpath had faded away under the feet of many walkers. The wind flowed softly across the grass. Philip held his stick up and tapped it on the stone. “People often imagine Gods as being up in the sky” he pointed upwards “Yet many are here on Earth hiding from us”. He ran a hand across the rocks and stared at them. There followed a few seconds of silence then, without turning to face me, he announced “We need to get inside this”.

The mountain?” I asked in disbelief.

Oh yes” he answered as if this was completely normal.

The tourist entrance is just up the path”.

Dear sir” he exclaimed “Do I look like a tourist to you?”.

He held out a hand and pushed his fingers between two rocks. Before long his arms had followed and the rest of his body was vanishing into the stone folds. Slowly he pushed his way further. As his shoulder became absorbed he turned to me.

Best be following me if you want to see this, it doesn’t hold open for long”.

He held out his remaining hand and I grabbed it, cautiously walking after him with small steps. His body pushed forward, his face disappearing into the stone. Soon my arm followed. In my mind I thought the jagged rocks would shred me, my body tense to the expectation of such an event. When the time came a few seconds later it was like being muffled by a large blanket. The tweeting of the birds outside soon faded to be replaced by a low rumble. I could see nothing ahead, only taking comfort from the fact I still had hold of Philip’s hand.

We’re nearly inside” came his voice, echoing around the darkness “Just a few moments longer”.

It was like standing behind an industrial drill. The vibrations continued making me feel like my brain was rattling inside my head as small fragments of stone dropped from above and bounced on the ground below. I wanted to cover my ears but I could not let go. I was, it would seem, between two worlds. At the moment I thought the noise could not get any louder it stopped as if somebody has disconnected the power. I stood for a few moments, my eyes still closed, until I was sure I was on solid ground. As I took a deep breath back in I felt something poke me in the shoulder. Peering out with one eye first I focused on Philip prodding me with the end of his walking stick.

We’re here” he said with obvious glee.