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a writer's life Blowing my own trumpet Horror Planet Poetry Poetry Prose Short Stories

Now, where was I?

I just finished another freelance job last night. And feel like a young otter released back into the wild. Is it just me, or do you do this too? As soon as I create a clear and focused plan about what I am going to do in my life, something else happens. My noble literary plans this year have been swept off the table by the Mr Hyde of my commercial writing alter ego. One of the downsides about leading a double life, along with those mysterious bloodstains, is that I often have had to ration the time I spend on things that give me joy: writing poems, fiction and making the Planet Poetry podcast with my pal Robin Houghton, to focus on filling the echoey Kenny coffers with a few doubloons.

In a few lucid moments, I have written several new poems and many of them sparked by diagnosing a fault in my writing: wanting to be likeable. So I have begun writing poems that do me no credit as a human being, but are at least honest. In my own mind I find writing about my ‘unfinest’ hours is actually quite liberating. One of these new-for-me poems was accepted by Richard Skinner for his stylish 14 Magazine which only prints poems of 14 lines.

Here’s the poem…

This is not exactly confessional poetry. But at the poem’s heart is a real death of a former friend and my own shabby response to it. Remembering this makes me physically squirm as I sit at my desk. In fact I have decided that if the new ‘unfinest hour’ poem I’m working on isn’t making me cringe, then it just ain’t working.

I also had a poem in Jan Heritage’s excellent Finished Creatures magazine. And even attended a reading organised by Jan in Lewes. It was great to go there, hear poets read poems and bask in the sunshine having beers with some of my favourites. This poem was about the Mezquita, which readers of this blog may remember me banging on about here.

Meanwhile my stealthy and malevolent progress in horror continues. My tale The Grieving was published in Supernatural Tales 46 — edited by David Longhorn. Suitably gruesome cover art by Sam Dawson and crammed with excellent tales — from Kathy Hubbard, Sam Dawson, Jane Jakeman, Michael Chislett, Tim Jeffreys and Jon Barron.

The Grieving is about an art piece that sends the nephew of the artist mad with grief, and is underpinned by anxiety, and unpleasant feelings about family. Which is all good stuff if you are trying to write weird fiction. You can buy a copy from the supernatural tales site (link above) or download a copy here.

Categories
a writer's life Autobiographical Blowing my own trumpet Fiction Short Stories Theatre

Doctor Spotlight

I don’t know exactly where I first heard the term ‘Doctor Spotlight’ to describe the way that being in the spotlight can momentarily conceal, for example, the terrible hangover or malaise you might be experiencing.

In the early nineties I was knocked off my bicycle one morning cycling down Chiswick High Road, and sustained quite a nasty injury to my hand. I stood in shock and dripping blood. I wandered over to a policeman who said, ‘you’ll live’. He was right.

After being stitched up in Charing Cross Hospital, I made off to my evening engagement. I was doing a poetry reading at the Commonwealth Institute in support of a mental health charity. The star was Spike Milligan who had generously asked for some local poets to be involved in the reading. Of these was a young Mario Petrucci (who second to the great Spike rather stole the show), Rosemary Norman, and I was one of two or three other poets Rosemary had called on.

I arrived early, and made straight for the bar to add booze to the shock, adrenaline and anaesthetic cocktail I was running on. The show opened with Rosemary, Mario and the other poets reading before Spike Milligan. He asked not to be last, so someone was needed someone to finish off. Weirdly, this was me. Sat behind the curtain, in the order of reading, I wound up next to Spike for a couple of hours. He was lovely, but distracted and clearly did not want to talk much.

As the audience, in the hundreds, filed in the PA began playing an interview the great comedian had given the BBC about his depression. After five minutes of this, he leant over to me and asked who it was speaking. I said, ‘It’s you Spike,’ which seemed to surprise him.

Every now and then he tried to escape. He sprang up and wandered distractedly into Kensington High Road, followed by a panicking stage manager, who would shepherd him back.

As the evening wore on, I was left with Spike alone. To me he seemed too distracted and ill to even walk to centre stage, and absolutely not able to perform. Perhaps it was just nerves, I thought, but I was seriously worried about him. But as his name was introduced, he got up, straightened out and strode onstage. Suddenly he was the wonderful entertainer and comedy genius the audience had come to see. He delivered a dazzling performance. For me watching that instantaneous transformation was unforgettable.

Anyhow… This is a roundabout way of saying I have a short story on the Horla website, called Doctor Spotlight, which draws on my experience of seeing the magic the spotlight can do. Hope you like it!

I really have to thank again here, the wonderful short fiction writer Matthew G. Rees, who edits Horla, but also was responsible for kick starting my return to writing short stories.

READ Doctor Spotlight by Peter Kenny here.

Categories
a writer's life Publishing Short Stories

Proof positive

I want to heartily recommend Tess Jolly. Not only is she an amazing poet but she is also a fabulous proof reader. I asked Tess to proof a few of my short fictions which I am tentatively starting to assemble into a collection.

She found a fair amount to fix: including a regrettable promiscuity with commas and the odd toe-curling typo (including the classic patios when I meant patois) the odd tautology and so on. It was great to feel the MS was now more watertight.

Little bad habits, invisible to you as the perpetrator, being made suddenly visible was a little like having a writing masterclass. I fully intend to use Tess’ eagle eyes on my prose projects from now on. I can wholeheartedly recommend her.

You can find out more on her Poems and Proofs site here.

Categories
Autobiographical Fiction Horror Short Stories

Powerful work from Clare Best and Matthew G. Rees

Here are a two things I have read lately, that I would highly recommend.

51573H-S9ILClare Best The Missing List 

I’ve met Clare several times, but bought this book without realising that its subject matter was in fact a memoir about child abuse, published in 2018. I discovered it to be a beautiful patchwork of impressions, of childhood memories, of telling descriptions of home movies, and a deeply human but unsentimental record of an abusive father’s protracted death.

Clare Best quietly tells us how she dealt with her father’s expectation that she should write down his memoirs, all without him ever acknowledging the appalling abuse he had foisted on her.

I was tremendously moved by The Missing List, and by imagining the cold courage it must have taken Clare to write it. It is a careful memoir, by this I mean it is aware of its readers as well as dwelling on how caring for others is full of complexity and nuance.  For anyone who is compelled to make sense of their own past, this book’s quietly understated wisdom is very welcome. 

The Missing List is published by Linen Press.

Matthew G Rees The Snow Leopard of Moscow

mosc-2-2

As dippers into this blog may recall, I have been immersed in short stories in the horror and weird fiction genre for a while now.  One contemporary writer who I find genuinely interesting is Matthew G Rees, and I wrote about his excellent collection Keyhole here.

A recent story, The Snow Leopard of Moscow, struck me as an instant classic of the literary horror genre. The time he spent in living in Moscow clearly informed the writing of this story, which is pervaded by what, for this reader at least, is a refreshing backdrop for a horror story.

It really has it all — atmosphere, ambiguity, proper characters, and an absence of weary tropes. It was also made me think about the Jungian shadow, and archetypes of tramps and the wounded healer we encounter in dreams. Why not read it here now? 

 

Categories
Fiction Guernsey Guernsey Literature Prose Short Stories

Supernatural Tales 41, Autumn 2019

As a horror and weird fiction newbie, I’m delighted to have my first story The Inheritor in Supernatural Tales, edited tirelessly by David Longhorn. My tale is set in Guernsey, and draws on my childhood experiences of living in my Grandparent’s haunted 16th century granite cottage.

The story concerns the return of an exile, a burial and a the return to a haunted house (see above). You’ll be pleased to learn it all ends horrifically. I preface The Inheritor with a quote by Victor Hugo, who lived on the island.

‘Houses resemble those who dwell in them, and can, as it were, die…  These weird looking abodes are not rare in the Channel Islands; all agricultural and seafaring classes have a strong faith in the active agency of Satan.’

Victor Hugo, The Toilers of the Sea

The table of contents has some heavy hitting horror and weird fiction writers. Chuffed to be among them.

  • That the Sea Shall Be Calm by David Surface
  • Pertrichor by Sam Dawson
  • Old Habits by Stephen Cashmore
  • The Sea Man by James Machin
  • Sorrow is the Mother of the World by Jeremy Schiliewe
  • The Inheritor by Peter Kenny
  • No Passage Landward by Steve Duffy.

You can buy your copy of Supernatural Tales here.