fiction
Olaf Ratbeard (927-974)When Ratbeard arrived on the Suffolk coast from Denmark in the freezing Godless winter of 941, none of his compatriots sensed his dark otherworldly powers, but Olaf always felt a little different to the other men in his band of bloodthirsty Viking marauders. One sign was that
Avalon
For my first Somerset walk since moving to the West Country I chose the best day of skies all year. There's a lot of big talk about the skies in the Fens but in 13 years of living in East Anglia I saw nothing like these. Here, in
cat videos
Read more about The Sweary Cat.
bonfires
Although lifelong bloodthirsty tyrants, my cats Ralph and Shipley will often go through long phases of not killing another living creature. Born into the same litter, yet roughly as different in appearance as a stunted lion would be from an angry monitor lizard, they are both now 14: an age
countryside
Old King Idiot And His Goose Largely due to the seemingly endless reign of The Sexy Queen, it had been aeons since the country had experienced a genuine simpleton as its sovereign, so when Old King Idiot took over he was a great talking point among the population. “Old King
countryside
For a year, maybe longer, I saw a tower in my dreams, again and again, looming over a giant rock face, in the mist. I'd seen it many times in reality too but it wasn't until I went walking in Derbyshire with my parents back in
countryside
As most people who have lived there for any length of time as a single person will know, finding romance in the countryside can be extremely difficult. There aren’t many people in it, for one thing, and many of those are members of your family. It is also likely
fiction
books
8th October, 2015My new book is out today. This coincides with the nominal birthday of my cat The Bear (all I really know is that he was born “around this time” in 1995, as he’s a rescue cat). In the post, with perfect timing, The Bear receives a celebratory
buckfastleigh
Chainsaws seemingly everywhere in the countryside surrounding my house this morning. Unfortunately they were switched on, too, so I took my notebook to Hembury Woods in an attempt to get some writing done. For this journey I was accompanied by The Blackberry, a dog belonging to my friend Susie, who,
countryside
Billy and I were sitting outside a pub on the north eastern edge of Dartmoor, inhaling a much-needed pint when the septuagenarian lady in the Barbour jacket approached us. Well, I was inhaling a much-needed pint; Billy, who is a miniature-toy poodle cross, was inhaling some much needed water from
bowerman's nose
Lots of jobs to do today, a lost phone to replace and three inboxes full of unanswered correspondence, so I decided to do what I often do in these situations: sod it all off, get in the car, head up to Dartmoor and climb a stack of weathered granite. I&