Tag Archives: Gothic

A Gothic Symphony: Bethany (Part 1)

My parents are divorced, and that’s probably all you need to know about me. They split when I was seven, and it kind of fucked me up. I never thought it was all my fault like everyone wants to believe – they both talked to me a lot about it. It was my dad’s fault, and we all know it. My feelings were a lot more complicated, and I guess I still haven’t got it all worked out.

My dad’s an alcoholic. I guess I didn’t really know what that meant when I was seven. He just drank a lot of beer, which is what I thought all dads were supposed to do. Maybe he didn’t know what it meant, either. Either way, what I do remember is that he and mom fought a lot, and she’d scream at him just as much as he did. He never beat her – he never laid a hand on either of us – but I always got scared when they fought, and I’d hide in my room and cry.

I never felt like it was my fault, but I did feel guilty. When dad took a day off work and we hung out, we had […]

Read the complete chapter here.

A Gothic Symphony: Beginning

It is a dark city on such a late summer evening. The sun is blood over the rooftops, and the girl in the park is sitting in the last rays passing between the old brick buildings.

It is a small park, of course; not much more than a few benches and a couple of old trees, but it is a refuge in a town that is huge, and busy. The trees haven’t begun to turn yet, and the grass and paths are golden in the spaces between their leaves. There are people, and they pass through, but they are few, and don’t spare the girl a glance.

The girl is sixteen; looks fourteen. The cigarette hangs in her hand, ash burned back almost to her fingertips. Black hood over her head and black jeans to her boots, she’s like a darker shadow in the shade of the trees. A lock of crimson hangs forward, and the small silver nose ring glints a little. Under the hoodie is a lace top, black also, and at her breast is a silver pendant: a silver crucifix entwined with snakes. A choker holds a black glass heart with a skull inside to her throat. […]

Read the complete chapter here.

Back to Work

When I finished writing the first draft of The Redemption of Erâth in June, I decided it would be worthwhile to give the story a rest; take a break, relax, think of other things, and not even read it for some time. I originally intended only to take this break for a month, but a month turned into two, which turned into three…

Anyway. It’s the first of September (yes, yes…don’t correct me), and it’s time to begin a new resolution. I would very much like to have this story finished, in publishable form, by the year’s end. If I can achieve this, it will leave me in a good place to begin writing the second book at the start of next year. The pattern of completing one chapter each week has worked out pretty well so far, and I would to make an attempt at this again.

Now, at the risk of stretching myself and completely destroying my sanity, I feel it’s also time to turn my attention back to a long-neglected project, very near and dear to my heart. Many, many years ago I discovered a story, one that spoke to everything that was in me, that embodied my very person, and it was a story that I knew I must tell. However, I was younger then, and unprepared for the task of writing a book. However, the story has stayed with me, always, and given that its events have remained unwavering in my mind, I know it is a project I must complete.

I write, of course, of A Gothic Symphony, a tale of the struggle against despair and depression. For those of you who have enjoyed the dark-tinged fantasy of The Redemption of Erâth, this will be nothing like it. Not even close. Autumn – the fading death of the world and the descent into long, cold nights – is at the very heart of this story, and coming into this time of year, I can’t but imagine this is the time the story must be told.

I don’t know if I will manage; editing The Redemption of Erâth is, above all, my priority. I very much want to continue the story next year. But I feel I have waited too long, and this story must escape me onto paper. If you are interested, please stop by; perhaps you will find something new to enjoy.