Body and Soul

My sixth novel, "Body and Soul", is published today via Elsewhen Press, an excellent independent publisher who have been great to work with and who I heartily recommend!

"Body and Soul" developed out of a simple idea which I realised would work well at novel length and which I wanted to write with a kind of old-style SF sensibility, whilst also ensuring it dealt with modern themes. I'm very pleased with the book, which sports stunning cover art from Alex Storer who perfectly matched and executed the brief.

Probably the best way to describe the concept is to quote the blurb on the back cover:

COME TOGETHER IN BODY AND SOUL

When a pregnancy occurs on Heart it is two-fold. The woman carries the body and the man carries the soul. Both have to be present at birth for the soul to enter the body, otherwise the body is born useless and the soul is left to dissipate.

Heart is a planet recovering from an unexplained catastrophe which occurred so long ago that the inhabitants are entirely unaware of their history. Most live in isolated settlements that are self-sufficient, thinly populated, and generally happy; their only source of outside information limited to encounters with travellers, lone nomads who have chosen a life of hardship in order to find artefacts, tell stories, and gain wider experiences. Following an encounter with one such nomad, Calvin, a boy on the verge of puberty, harbours a secret desire to travel; but it will take an unexpected act of violence to encourage him to leave everyone he knows and to strike out on his own.

What he discovers is not only unexpected, but will shock him to his core.

Whilst there are no reviews as yet, it has been described as spiritual dystopian fantasy SF which, if you know my predilection for genre-bending, will come as no surprise. Levity aside, the novel explores themes of identity, gender-roles, isolation and love.

Published in both e-book and paperback from the usual outlets, purchase information can be found here on the Elsewhen Press website.

Mont Blanc

My short story titled "Mont Blanc" was recently published online at House Magazine (Salt Publishing) and as usual I'm blogging a few words discussing how the story came to be written. There may be spoilers within.

"Mont Blanc" is one of twelve recently written stories which takes French New Wave cinema as a starting point and then runs with an alternative version of it. In this case, the film in question is François Truffaut's "Jules et Jim" (1962). I've seen the film many times but it wasn't until I read the source material - a novel by Henri-Pierre Roché (a very poor novel, it has to be said) - that I noticed how much the character of Catherine (played by Jeanne Moreau) is little more than a 'manic pixie girl' trope and a cipher for the characters of the Frenchman, Jim (Henri Serre), and the Austrian, Jules (Oskar Werner). I wanted my story to readdress this balance and to be written from the perspective of Catherine; a feminist retelling of the tale, if you will. I can't remember now why I chose this title, but it fit. And as usual, once I had the title, I could begin to write. Thematically, the collection as a whole (still seeking a publisher) plays on French New Wave as much as my previous collection, Candescent Blooms, played on Hollywood.

Here's an extract: 

They swallow my independence like Evian water. Then seek to bottle it.

The compartment in which I am squeezed is designed by men. It is Baudelaire who said that a woman is natural, that is to say, abominable: the greatest idiocy combined with the greatest depravity. The Austrian and Frenchman make this debate in my presence. I light a cigarette, the smoke from the Gitane curling around my smile. These two consider themselves free thinkers, yet my thoughts spiral in my head without their knowledge. Together they impose stereotypes onto unconventional lifestyles. They pour glasses of wine.

These men – with their shielded homoerotic tendencies, with their belief in a ménage à trois on the condition that there are only two in a bed– these free radicals who are no more than horrors, monsters, assassins of the arts, little fools, little sluts – these men.

Regular readers of this blog will know I usually listen to music through headphones whilst writing, and this entire story was written to - of course - Jeanne Moreau's "La Tourbillon" on continuous repeat.

To reiterate, "Mont Blanc" is available to read online for free, at House Magazine published by Salt Publishing. Do so here.