Trusted by 500+ fans to find the fun in the funereal, the absurd in the macabre, and delight in the darkness. Join fiction author Morgan Delaney three times a week for genre-bending stories of cozy horror, dark fantasy and a brain with mind of its own...
Great News! It's All Their Fault…
 one perk of being a writer is the writer’s salon. Those evenings where us big-headed tweedy lads – and ladies – discuss matters of crucial import. And at our last session, I brought us to a very interesting conclusion. The topic was polar bears, inspired, amongst other things, by this German classic. I queried the group whether we knew the colour of a polar bear’s poop. In case you were unaware, it’s the usual colour, and this, I feel, is unacceptable. Look. I don’t expect a panda bear to do black and white coloured business. That would be asking too much, but I must insist that polar bears poop whitely. That’s a deal-breaker. The Arctic is white. Polar bears are white. Polar bear poop should be white. It’s no wonder the world is in the shocking state it’s in, if it can’t be bothered to make sure polar bear poop blends in with the background. And from there, it’s but a short step to understanding why we keep lurching from one crisis to the next. Back in the day, someone dropped the ball on the polar bears, and it’s all been downhill from there. So next time you open up your newspaper, don’t get upset about all the bad news. Just blame the bloody polar bears. Although, to be fair, it was actually the teddy bears and their damn picnic that killed my great-great-great-great-grandfather, Smurfitt Delaney, that time he went to Sweden to see the king… Chat soon, Morgan P.S. Does anybody know any good salons? I know a writer on the lookout for a new, less-judgmental one. P.P.S. More Morgan? Get 2 of my books free here: morgandelaney.info/newsletter |
Dark, Strange and Fantastic Fiction
Trusted by 500+ fans to find the fun in the funereal, the absurd in the macabre, and delight in the darkness. Join fiction author Morgan Delaney three times a week for genre-bending stories of cozy horror, dark fantasy and a brain with mind of its own...
Raise your glasses to the masses! This week I smashed past a massive 100,000 words of the latest Alumière adventure, The Cat Wore Black! 100,000 words is about the length of To Kill a Mockingbird. And I’m only about 80-ish% through the book. Don’t worry, though. I’m a messy writer, and this is the first draft. Once I pull out the Red Pen and start deleting, that word count will come right back down again. I reckon the finished Cat will clock in at a respectable 75,000-80,000 like the others....
You think you’ve seen it all… I’m friends with the stray dogs in our local park. The people working in the park feed the dogs, and I supply the tickles (and additional treats). Then the bloody birds ruined it. What should have been a win-win situation has turned into a catastrophe. The dogs get food – and tickles. The blackbirds get whatever’s left. But the birds wanted more. So they started pecking at the oldest dog, who only has three legs, to hurry him on before he’s finished. They sneak...
We want to try every restaurant in Tbilisi before we leave this summer. I can’t recommend last night’s restaurant. The food tasted fine, but the decor included a film projector projecting some old Georgian film. I know it’s Georgian because 90% of the action was people eating and drinking. The walls were stuffed with pictures, paintings, and various vintage bits and bobs, so they projected the film across the top of one wall and part of the ceiling. To be specific, the actors – mostly sitting...