Novel 'O Man of Clay.' After sea-level rise. https://www.stairwellbooks.co.uk/

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County Durham, United Kingdom
'O Man of Clay,' set in Hartlepool and Siberia in the near future while the tundra is thawing and the sea level rising, was published in January 2020 by Stairwell Books.

Sunday, 28 November 2021

An Elven name for unreal times. That 'noble maiden,' Arwen, blew up flocks of flakes, moaned her song and smothered us in her shroud. And we remembered. Was it she played ice bells on the Church Burn in sixty-eight? A little of ourselves sleeps through that other winter still.

Saturday, 27 November 2021

Review

Mary Woodbury (Dragonfly) curates a wonderful website about eco-fiction. In her words 'Dragonfly.eco is a place to find meaningful stories about our natural world and humanity’s connection with it.' She is active on Twitter @EcoFiction on writers and artists responding to the climate crisis and runs a discussion group on Discord. How does she fit it all in? Thank you, Mary.  Review of 'O Man of Clay' on Dragonfly.eco

Tuesday, 23 November 2021

Two reviews of climate fiction on the great Susie Williamson's blog:

 http://susiewilliamson.blog/2021/11/23/for-the-love-of-books-11/

Saturday, 20 November 2021

David is building a fence by eye with rough wood. He is out there with jackdaws and a rusted thwacker like a bell to knock in the posts. I am roughly placing fenceposts and then shifting them about ready, over time, to nail some chapters in place.

Friday, 19 November 2021

 She?

Thinking of a friend gone,

spilt leaves along a field edge

rising close-by to a long curve. 

There. A shape cut out of sky. 

Moments pass. The silhouette 

 slots into place.  Single-tine antlers, 

looking, one ear turning, letting 

time sift the air between us.

A dog barks in the wood below 

and in her own time, a launch, legs

crooked, still in the air, again and 

again. Stops. Looks. Doe? We.

 

(C) Eliza Mood


Sunday, 14 November 2021


 Gather round and i'll tell you a story about some of the animals - some human apes - who forgot all about our common ancestor's warnings when we took different paths through the forest. They didn't think to clean up after themselves. We've been doing it for them. When they come knocking on our door, we'll have to break it to them. We'll go on doing our best, but only if they become like us again and really mean it, will they be around to see how it all shakes down. 

'O Man of Clay'available at Stairwell Books or wherever you buy or order your books.

Tuesday, 9 November 2021

A little group of us had a chat about 'The Swan Book' by Alexis Wright. Organised by Linda France, writer in residence for New Writing North. Extraordinary, terrifying fable. My review on Goodreads is here. (Bonnet Mycena)

'O Man of Clay'available at Stairwell Books or wherever you buy or order your books.
 

Saturday, 6 November 2021

 

The butterfly eggs have hatched. Began trying out the voice for a new novel yesterday. It's been fluttering about for a good few months. Not in any hurry to write any number of words. There are other things on the go.

 You can buy 'O Man of Clay' at Stairwell Books or on Amazon or order from any bookshop.

Wednesday, 3 November 2021

 You can buy 'O Man of Clay' at Stairwell Books or on Amazon or order from any bookshop.



Tuesday, 2 November 2021



November 2nd, 2021. 

Scarlet wax cap. A spotlight. Just the way the sun struck it.

We are still eating the kale and brocoli we grew. Its purple is darkening.

Sunday, 31 October 2021

Late leaving for the Sahel. Waited to carry news from Glasgow. For now, we still breed in these sandy banks. But drought and flood rock our winter people. Leave it too late and we may bring bad news of sowers and herders. And some of us may not return

'O Man of Clay,' published January 2020 by Stairwell Books. Set in Hartlepool and Siberia  in the near future, tundra thawing and sea-level rising.

Wednesday, 27 October 2021

 26th October 2021

Under dark pines. Candletuft fungus struck the match. Gold and red crisp packet deeper in, lit the gloom. Stumbled on a hideout. There are many, many reasons. The tether's end is closer than ever. 

 

Tuesday, 26 October 2021

 25th October 2021

Bilberries still forageable at Swallowship on my visit to Hexham. Some blackberries, though many dried on the stem. Where are the children with jars and purple fingers? Wasn't this once blackberry week? The blackberries came early and the children with their jars late, too late. 

Fingers stained blue-black and crimson, I took my lateral flow. Maggie smiled over brambling the wartime Solway. Then clouded, for there the Hudsons from Silloth dropped berries. The trainees drank a last tea from her father's canteen. If blackberries came in time, the boys fell early, too early.


Sunday, 24 October 2021

24th October 2021

 

Back after writing a new book during lockdowns. Will tell more.
 
Today to Crow Pond. Holly berries. Fly Agaric. Hare, clear-eyed, fresh killed, in field.
 


What's Happening?

  26th October 2021 Under dark pines. Candletuft fungus struck the match. Gold and red crisp packet deeper in, lit the gloom. Stumbled on a ...

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