MARK MORRIS

Happy New Year everyone. As I enter my third decade as a professional writer (blimey!) I think now is a pretty good time to look back over the first twenty years of my career, to plot the ups and downs and assess how the world of publishing has changed.

My first novel, Toady, was published in September 1989. I was 26 years old and living on £40 a week in a draughty bedsit in the centre of Leeds. I had no job, no house, no car, no kids - in short, no responsibilities. All I possessed was a desperate, at times overwhelming, yearning to be a writer.

I graduated in 1984 and sold a handful of stories before my big breakthrough in 1988, the most notable of which was to the late Charles L. Grant for his excellent anthology series, Shadows. I had written one novel before Toady, called The Winter Tree, which I submitted to around a dozen publishers. Four of those publishers had really liked The Winter Tree, and one, Sphere, had even come within a whisker of buying it.

When I finished my gargantuan (250,000-word) second novel, therefore, I submitted it to the four publishers who had shown most interest in my previous book. One of them was a small hardback publisher called Piatkus, and on 29th September 1988 I received a letter from the founder of the company, Judy Piatkus, offering me a royalty advance of £2000 - a fortune to me back then.

That year was a bitter-sweet one for me. In January my dad dropped dead of a heart attack at the age of 49 whilst playing golf, and I subsequently spent most of the next six months living back at the family home with Mum, cut off from my friends in Leeds and crushed under a huge weight of shock and grief - both Mum's and my own.

When Toady was accepted for publication eight months after Dad's death, therefore, I felt euphoric, but also guilty for being so happy, as well as desperately sad that my dad had not lived to see my success.

And Toady was a success, particularly when paperback rights were snapped up by Transworld, who released the book in such a blaze of publicity in September 1990 that it shot into the bestseller list at number 7 in its first week of release.

Suddenly, after half a decade of plugging away in my little bedsit, I was living the dream. I was being taken out for expensive meals in fancy London restaurants by my publishers; I was being interviewed on TV and national radio and in magazines; and I was being invited to appear at swish 'meet the writer' events with the likes of Anne McCaffrey and Joanna Trollope.

The problem was, by the time my second novel, Stitch, was released in 1991, horror was already on the skids. Despite the book getting great reviews, Transworld didn't put as much oomph behind Stitch as they had behind Toady, and although it sold moderately well it didn't hit the dizzy heights which Toady had achieved.

My third novel, The Immaculate, received even better reviews, but by now Transworld were telling me that 'the book would have to find its own market'. It was no surprise - though it still came as the first body blow of my career - when Transworld passed on my fourth novel, The Secret of Anatomy, in 1994.

Despite this setback, however, the first ten years of my career, with hindsight, were more or less plain sailing. Piatkus continued to make me generous offers for each of my novels, usually tying me in to 2-book deals, which meant I had a measure of financial security. And although Transworld had passed on The Secret of Anatomy, it was not long before it was snapped up by HarperCollins, who had enthusiastic ambitions to promote me as the 'new Clive Barker', and even secured a very generous quote from Clive himself to plaster all over the very striking paperback cover.

With my fifth novel, Mr Bad Face, I kind of shot myself in the foot to some extent. Unfortunately I've done this a couple of times in the course of my career, as will become apparent. The thing is, as a 'horror' writer I like to diversify, to explore all aspects of the genre, and after writing the big, apocalyptic, multi-viewpoint narrative that was The Secret of Anatomy, I felt an urge to get all small and intimate again, to pull back on the phantasmagoria and write a dark, gritty psycho-thriller, which contained only the most minimal and ambiguous supernatural content.

Sadly HarperCollins didn't go for this at all, and after a dispiriting and somewhat heated discussion it was decided that we would part ways. And so sadly my potentially glittering career with HarperCollins was over before it had even really begun. But c'est la vie. Onward and upward.

It was around this time, 1996, that Piatkus decided to launch their own mass-market paperback line, and so in the end they themselves published the paperback editions of both Mr Bad Face and my next novel, Longbarrow. However the writing was on the wall. Neither of those books sold particularly well, and although I signed a contract for my next (and as it turned out, last) Piatkus novel, Genesis, to be published in both hardback and paperback, the paperback edition, after much prevaricating, never appeared.

By now horror as a genre was in the doldrums. After the market saturation of the late 80s/early 90s, sales were dipping alarmingly, horror imprints were disappearing and those working within the genre were finding that either their royalty advances were shrinking or their contracts were being cancelled altogether.

I had had a number of ups and downs by this point, but my first real 'dark night of the soul' came in 1998, when Piatkus decided, in the light of poor sales, to stop publishing horror altogether. As the last of a clutch of Piatkus horror writers which had once included the likes of Dean R. Koontz and Ron Chetwynd-Hayes, I was told that my services were no longer required. After ten years I was suddenly out on my ear.

For the first time since receiving the initial offer from Judy Piatkus in September 1988, I felt utterly washed-up, cast adrift. Ironically, the news that Piatkus were dropping me came on the same day that I attended Stephen King's incredibly lavish launch party for Bag of Bones in London. King - a huge inspiration not only to me, but to almost every other horror writer of my generation - was making one of his rare visits to the UK. For the first time in my life I was in the same room as the great man - and I felt crap. In fact, his incredible and well-deserved success only seemed to exacerbate my own failure. Needless to say, I got very drunk and very maudlin that night. My agent, who was also at the party, assured me that all would be well, but in the throes of my depression I found it hard to believe her.

She was right, though. Well, kind of. The book which Piatkus ultimately passed on was a novel called Fiddleback. I think I was on holiday in Cornwall when I received a call to say that Fiddleback had been bought by an editor at Pan MacMillan, who loved the book enough to throw a great deal of publicity behind it. As a result, Fiddleback became my highest-profile novel since Toady. One of the very highest points of my career came one morning when I took a call from the foreign rights girl at MacMillan. She asked me if I was sitting down and then told me that US rights to Fiddleback had been sold to Random House for a huge amount of money. What was more, a German publisher had matched the US offer, and smaller offers had also been received from publishers in France and Holland. Not only was the money great, but it was also the first (and only) time translation rights had been sold for one of my books. I eventually earned enough money from Fiddleback to put a substantial deposit down on a new house, buy a car and live comfortably for the next couple of years.

But what the universe gives with one hand it takes away with the other. Having enjoyed huge financial and critical success with Fiddleback, I then proceeded to shoot myself in the foot once again. The trouble was, Fiddleback had taken several months to sell, by which time I was 30,000 words or so into a new novel called Nowhere Near An Angel. This book was shaping up well - in fact, I thought it might turn out to be the best, and most mature, thing I'd ever written - but when I presented it to Pan MacMillan as my proposed next book, their collective face fell.

What Pan MacMillan had liked about Fiddleback was that it had been written (very successfully, I'm told) in first person from a female point of view. Therefore, in order to attract a female readership, MacMillan had elected to market the novel as a psychological thriller under the inscrutable pseudonym, J.M. Morris. What I wasn't told was that they wanted the follow-up book to be female-orientated too. But the protagonist of Nowhere Near An Angel was a male ex-punk, ex-con anti-hero in his early forties. I was given two options: turn my male protagonist into a female protagonist (impossible, given the nature of the story) or scrap the book and write something else.

In the end I - perhaps unwisely, perhaps with a certain amount of integrity, depending on your viewpoint - decided to go for a third option. I would finish Nowhere Near An Angel, try to sell it elsewhere (possibly as a one-off to an independent publisher) and then come up with an idea for another book featuring a female protagonist.

So that's what I did. I finished Nowhere Near An Angel and sold it to Pete Crowther's excellent and multi-award winning PS Publishing, and then I drew up plans to write a new novel featuring a female protagonist, which I submitted to Pan MacMillan.

It quickly became evident, however, that Pan MacMillan had now gone cold on the whole deal. It had been three years since the paperback release of Fiddleback, sales of the book had clearly not been as good as they had hoped for, and the general consensus was that I had now 'missed the boat'. Another publisher down, another potentially glittering career nipped in the bud.

So, five years on from all of that, where does that leave me?

Well, in a pleasingly healthy state, to be honest. The publishing industry has changed beyond recognition since I signed my first contract back in 1988, and writers have to be far more versatile and flexible to survive these days. Gone are those halcyon days (for most of us, at least) of living on the proceeds of one novel a year. Now I (and most of my peers) take on a variety of work, I write faster and more assuredly than I ever did before, and I feel very optimistic about my current career path. I have made a good living this past couple of years, writing mostly tie-in books and audio scripts for the likes of Doctor Who (which is a labour of love, as I've adored it ever since I was a kid), Torchwood and Hellboy. As well as helping to pay the bills, this work has won me awards, allowed me to enjoy hugely successful, all-expenses-paid publicity trips to various events up and down the country, and enabled me to meet a huge range of new and interesting people, many of whom have gone on to become great friends. In the past year or so I've been privileged enough to have had dinner with my favourite Doctor Who companion, Elizabeth Sladen (Sarah Jane Smith), to have written scripts for such renowned actors as Peter Davison, Sylvester McCoy, Benedict Cumberbatch, Keith Barron and Liza Tarbuck, and to visit the Doctor Who and Torchwood sets in Cardiff (a bit of the TARDIS console even came off in my hand!).

And aside from the tie-in work, I have also edited a book of horror movie essays called Cinema Macabre, for which I received the British Fantasy Award, have had a new novel, The Deluge, published as a mass-market paperback in the US, and have had my first three novels re-issued - Toady and Stitch as handsome hardcovers by the now sadly defunct independent publisher, Humdrumming, and The Immaculate as a mass-market US paperback.

As 2010 dawns, I am completing work on a new novel entitled The Black, am co-writing a YA novel with a very good friend of mine, am editing a follow-up volume to Cinema Macabre called Cinema Futura, and am working on several further TV tie-in commissions, both in book and audio form. Later this year, PS Publishing will release my new short story collection, Long Shadows, Nightmare Light, and there are also several other potentially very exciting projects in the pipeline, none of which I can talk about yet.

As ever in this writing game, the future is forever shifting and largely unknown, but one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that, whatever happens, I'm really looking forward to it.

I've been very lax recently, for which I apologise. I haven't blogged since October, though I've meant to many times. I've just been so busy writing stuff that I haven't managed to find the time...and yes, I know that's a crap excuse, but it's also true.

Anyhow, this is just a very short one to wish you all a fantastic Christmas and a happy and healthy 2010.

I'll be back in January (promise) to blog about the demise of Borders, my favourite books and movies of 2009, and to reflect on my first 20 years as a professional writer.

Stay tuned x

If you're in Manchester next weekend, and you like Doctor Who, then you could do a lot worse than coming along to the Lass o' Gowrie pub for a day of Time Lord-related fun and frolics.

Here's all you need to know:

Cinema Futura, the science-fiction follow-up to the British Fantasy Award winning Cinema Macabre, will be published by PS Publishing in September 2010. The book, edited by me, will contain 60 essays by an all-new line-up of genre afficionados, each of whom will spend 1000 words or so gushing about a favourite science-fiction movie.

I'm delighted to report that the anthology is now closed to submissions and that I'm now at liberty to reveal the final line-up of contributors and movies. I'm thrilled with the response I've had to the project, and - as with Cinema Macabre - I think you'll agree that the anthology has managed to attract a pretty stunning roll-call of genre names. Here's the full list:

CINEMA FUTURA

METROPOLIS (1927) - Stan Nicholls
FRAU IM MOND (1929) - Christopher Burns
THE MAN IN THE WHITE SUIT (1951) - Brian Stableford
WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE (1951) - Paul Meloy
INVADERS FROM MARS (1953) - Joe R Lansdale
THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN (1957) - James A Moore
QUATERMASS 2 (1957) - David Pirie
I MARRIED A MONSTER FROM OUTER SPACE (1958) - Steven Utley
THE 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD (1958) - John Connolly
THE WASP WOMAN (1959) - Paul Magrs
VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED (1960) - Bill Hussey
DAY OF THE TRIFFIDS (1962) - Christopher Golden
LA JETEE (1962) - Christopher Priest
ALPHAVILLE (1965) - Lucius Shepard
DR WHO AND THE DALEKS (1965) - Simon Guerrier
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968) - James Moran
PLANET OF THE APES (1968) - Gary McMahon
THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN (1971) - David J Schow
A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (1971) - Ian R MacLeod
SILENT RUNNING (1972) - Alastair Reynolds
SOLARIS (1972) - Trevor Hoyle
SLEEPER (1973) - Michael Bishop
WESTWORLD (1973) - Stephen Volk
LOGAN'S RUN (1976) - Sarah Pinborough
THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH (1976) - Tony Richards
STAR WARS (1977) - Nate Kenyon
QUINTET (1979) - Gary A Braunbeck
STALKER (1979) - Adam Roberts
MAD MAX 2: THE ROAD WARRIOR (1981) - Brian Keene
TIME BANDITS (1981) - Joolz Denby
BLADERUNNER (1982) - Guy Adams
2010 (1984) - Paul Cornell
THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI ACROSS THE 8TH DIMENSION (1984) - Chris Roberson
REPO MAN (1984) - John Skipp
THE TERMINATOR (1984) - James Barclay
BRAZIL (1985) - Steve Rasnic Tem
THE PURPLE ROSE OF CAIRO (1985) - Robert Shearman
ALIENS (1986) - Peter F Hamilton
THE FLY (1986) - Stephen Gregory
ROBOCOP (1987) - Jeff Strand
MIRACLE MILE (1988) - Terry Bisson
DELICATESSEN (1981) - Philip Palmer
TWELVE MONKEYS (1995) - Michael Cobley
THE FIFTH ELEMENT (1997) - Nicholas Briggs
GATTACA (1997) - Ken MacLeod
DARK CITY (1998) - Ian McDonald
PI (1998) - Pat Cadigan
THE WONDERFUL ICE-CREAM SUIT (1998) - Mike Resnick
THE MATRIX (1999) - Juliet E McKenna
DONNIE DARKO (2001) - Sarah Langan
THE LOST SKELETON OF CADAVRA (2001) - Elizabeth Massie
LILO AND STITCH (2002) - Tony Ballantyne
CODE 46 (2003) - Garry Kilworth
SERENITY (2005) - Anne Gay
V FOR VENDETTA (2005) - Ian Irvine
CHILDREN OF MEN (2006) - James Miller
THE FOUNTAIN (2006) - Steven Hall
THE MIST (2007) - Steven Erickson
DISTRICT 9 (2009) - Andy Nyman
STAR TREK (2009) - Toby Litt

From book news to audio news, and my forthcoming 4-part Doctor Who audio drama from Big Finish has undergone a title change, from Village of the Damned to Plague of the Daleks. I can't tell you how exciting it is to have written proper Dalek dialogue for Mr Dalek himself, Nicholas Briggs. Although I was there for the recording of the audio, I haven't heard the final version with sound effects, music etc yet. And neither, in fact, have I heard Nick do 'my' Daleks, because he became a father for the first time a day or two before the recording dates and so went into studio to do all his dialogue a couple of weeks later.

Anyway, here's the stunning cover:

Ah, FantasyCon. I love it so much. I haven't missed a single FantasyCon weekend for over twenty years now, and though the event has evolved over the years, and though various venues and attendees have come and gone, it still remains an annual highlight of my social calendar.

For me, FantasyCon is a celebration. It's a celebration of creativity, of friendship and of life. I've met some of my best friends at FantasyCon, and I've had some of my best times there. I'll never forget meeting Ramsey Campbell for the first time (you can read about that in my introduction to the PS edition of his fantastic novel, The Overnight), or Graham Joyce's 'South o' t'Border' routine at the Midland in Birmingham, or the embarrasingly drunken antics of a certain famous horror writer's wife. Happy, happy memories - far too many to chronicle here - of FantasyCons past.

So, with the dust barely settled, how did this year's event shape up?

Well, in short, it was as fabulous as ever. FantasyCon for me started at around 1:30pm on Friday when I met my old chums, Tim Lebbon and Sarah Pinborough, and a relatively new chum, Lee Harris, for lunch. We descended on local hostelry, The Olde Trip, for a pint and a sandwich and ended up sitting outside as it was such a glorious day. My resolution to take the whole alcohol thing slowly at first, so that I wouldn't peak too early, quickly went out of the window, and by the time we staggered back to the hotel, having somehow acquired various other FantasyConites along the way (including the fabulous Rio Youers, Canadian horror writer and instant mate) we were all several sheets to the wind.

After renewing various acquaintances in the bar (and finally meeting fellow Twitterites, Vincent Holland-Keen and crime writer Steve Mosby in the flesh), a nineteen-strong group of us descended on local Indian restaurant 4550 Miles From Delhi for an excellent pre-arranged banquet, which - all right, I admit it, Conrad - was a bit pricey. As a result, "Thirty quid for a curry?" subsequently became the newly shaven-headed Conrad Williams's catchphrase for the weekend.

After the curry we weaved our way back to the hotel, where the bar was filling up nicely. I had a couple more drinks and thrashed Conrad at pool, but by 11:30pm I was wasted and so decided to call it a night.

Felt great on Saturday, and bounded downstairs to meet Tim Lebbon, Steve Volk, Guy Adams, my old college mate Kev Mullins and Steve's TV producer chum Bill (I never did find out his surname) for breakfast. Eschewing the dubious delights of the hotel restaurant, we headed out to the Wetherspoons down the road, where we all ordered massive fried breakfasts and spent a couple of hours sucking up cholesterol while putting the world to rights.

After Steve Jones's excellent and fascinating interview with guest of honour - and one of my all-time writing heroes, Brian Clemens - the afternoon turned into a whirlwind of launches and book signings. I spent an hour or so sat between old chums and fellow FantasyCon stalwarts, Nick Royle and Jo Fletcher, signing copies of the re-issued The Mammoth Book of Werewolves, which has now cunningly been re-titled The Mammoth Book of Wolf Men to tie in with the forthcoming Hollywood movie, and then a little later, after a 9-book strong launch from the wonderful PS Publishing, I spent another hour sitting between two of the loveliest people I know, Sarah Pinborough and Rob Shearman, signing copies of The British Fantasy Society Yearbook 2009, which contains a story of mine called The Name Game and the now-controversial In Conversation: A Writer's Perspective, edited by James Cooper.

So why, I hear you ask, has In Conversation become controversial? Well, basically because in a book which interviews sixteen horror writers about their working methods and their various approaches to the genre, not one of the contributors is a woman. Admittedly there are far more male horror writers than female horror writers, but this is still a glaring oversight, which (somewhat admirably) the BFS and editor James Cooper himself have acknowledged and apologised for. Perhaps if there is ever a paperback edition of the book, it could be expanded to include additional interviews with the likes of Sarah Pinborough, Sarah Langan, Alexandra Sokoloff, Poppy Z. Brite and Kaaron Warren. I certainly hope so.

The food at the British Fantasy Awards Banquet is notoriously dubious, but this year it trawled the depths. At least, however, the wine and the company was great - and our table proved to contain the largest amount of award winners, with Tim Lebbon scooping the award for Best Novella for his wonderful The Reach of Children (and delivering a very poignant and moving acceptance speech which brought a tear to everyone's eye) and Sarah Pinborough winning Best Short Story for Do You See? from the anthology Myth-Understandings. Rob Shearman's acceptance of the award for Best TV Programme on behalf of Doctor Who made it a hat-trick of wins for our table. We is de man! Or something.

After the awards, in lieu of the interminable and not-much-missed FantasyCon raffle, were a couple of new and welcome innovations. The fantasy equivalent of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue featuring Sarah Pinborough, Julian Simpson, Lee Harris, Jasper Fforde and Guy Adams was suitably hilarious and filthy ('Pumpkin' indeed, Miss P!), and this was followed by a brilliant performance from comedian and magician (and fantasy writer), John Lenahan, a lovely guy who was attending his first - and hopefully not his last - FantasyCon.

And how do you follow two such wondrous entertainments? Why, with a midnight panel about the Apocalypse, of course. I appeared on the said panel with Tim Lebbon, Nick Royle, Conrad Williams, Steve Volk and Simon R. Green. We rocked.

Or rather...we rambled drunkenly for an hour or so and then we shuffled off to the bar. Late-night panels are never a good idea, but I think we did okay. Certainly, one audience member remarked that our panel was the most "entertainingly surreal thing" he'd ever seen. I think he meant it as a compliment.

After a great sleep the night before, Saturday night for me was party night. I stayed in the bar, jabbering to the likes of Gary McMahon, Lee Harris, Rio Youers Torchwood books editor, Steve Tribe, and various other people until well after 4am. Then I headed up to bed and - still not feeling all that sleepy - flopped down with a cup of tea to watch a bit of late-night telly. Ah, what crazy lives we writers lead.

Sunday was a quiet day, a time for reflection, chat and goodbyes. Tim Lebbon, Kev Mullins and I started the day with another gigantic Wetherspoons breakfast, and then Tim and I said cheerio to Kev and headed over to Starbucks to have a meeting about a project we're working on together. After that we mooched back to the hotel and sat around chatting with various people as the bar slowly emptied. I myself headed off around 5:30pm, having discovered that Vinny Chong, who the night before had won the British Fantasy Award for Best Artist, would be on the same train back to York as me (though Vinny would be going on to Newcastle). Having only met Vinny properly that day, he proved to be great company, and we chatted away for the whole journey, about (among other things) books, movies and Hong Kong (which is where Vinny's family come from, and where I spent four years of my childhood). Thanks to Vinny, the journey flew by and I arrived back in York at around 9:30pm, shattered but inspired, sad that FantasyCon was all over for another year but happy at having spent time with so many witty, joyous, interesting and creative friends.

Ah, FantasyCon. If you've never been to one, then do yourself a favour and book for next year. Trust me, you won't ever regret it. In fact, you'll probably have the time of your life.

I'm just back from my hols and trying to catch up on a bunch of stuff, so will hopefully blog in more depth in the next few days.

For now, though, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be at FantasyCon in Nottingham next weekend, where I'll be involved in the following signing:

Just thought I'd update you on some of the stuff I talked about last month. It's been a pretty hectic few weeks, promoting the Torchwood books in London, Leeds and Winchester, and continuing to beaver away on some of the projects I'm currently juggling.

The two-day audio recording of my Doctor Who four-parter, Village of the Damned was a fantastic experience. Peter Davison and Sarah Sutton were in fine form as the fifth Doctor and Nyssa, and among the superb supporting cast were the likes of Keith Barron, Liza Tarbuck and Susan Brown. Everyone was lovely and funny and full of great stories, and what was more, both days were beautifully hot and sunny, which meant we were able to sit out in the little courtyard area at the Big Finish studios and have lunch al fresco. It was a particular delight for me to meet and chat with Keith Barron, as I've been a fan of his work for a long time...well, pretty much ever since he did the two Dennis Potter 'Nigel Barton' TV plays in the mid-60s. He was every bit as lovely as I hoped he would be - chatty, friendly and full of hilarious showbiz gossip.

I can now reveal that the three anthologies I've recently sold stories to - all of which will be available in the next few months - are:

Hellbound Hearts, edited by Paul Kane and Marie O'Regan, a collection of stories based in Clive Barker's Hellraiser universe, and featuring work from the likes of Christopher Golden & Mike Mignola, Neil Gaiman & Dave McKean, Tim Lebbon, Sarah Pinborough, Simon Clark, Conrad Williams and Kelley Armstrong, among many others.



And:

Gaslight Grotesque, edited by John R. Campbell and Charles Prepolec, an anthology of creepy Sherlock Holmes stories, which features work from the likes of Stephen Volk, James A. Moore, Simon K. Unsworth, William Meikle, Barbara Roden and many others.



As well as these, I also have an original story in the BFS 2009 Yearbook, which is a lovely hardback given away free to all members of the British Fantasy Society, and which also features original fiction from such genre luminaries as James Barclay, Mark Chadbourn, Christopher Fowler, Garry Kilworth, Juliet E. McKenna, Nicholas Royle, Robert Shearman and some of the authors already mentioned in the anthologies above. The only way to get hold of this anthology is to join the BFS, which costs £30 a year (which includes £10 off the annual British Fantasy Convention), and would be a bargain at double the price!

Of all the projects I'm currently working on, the one I'm devoting most of my time to at the moment is my 50,000 word long-overdue short novel for Earthling Publications. The book is called It Sustains, and I'm currently up to about 36,000 words. I'm hoping to finish it before I go on holiday in a few weeks time. Admittedly it's a race against time as there are various obstacles along the way - my parents-in-laws' Golden Wedding Anniversary celebrations, for one thing - but I'm determined to go for it.

As soon as I've got Amazon links for the above anthologies, I'll stick them on the books page of the website so you can all flock in your thousands to buy copies not only for yourselves but also for your families and friends.

Hopefully I'll get chance to blog again before FantasyCon in Nottingham in 6 weeks time, but if I don't - hope to see some of you there.

Now that this month's issue of Doctor Who Magazine has spilled the beans, I'm finally at liberty to announce that I have written a four-part Doctor Who audio drama for Big Finish Productions entitled Village of the Damned. The story is set in the village of Stockbridge, which became the Doctor's home from home in the DWM comic strips of the 80s, and stars Peter Davison as the 5th Doctor and Sarah Sutton as his companion, Nyssa.

There's still quite a bit about this story that I'm not yet allowed to tell you, but what I can reveal is that it's set in a future Stockbridge, and is, to quote Alan Barnes in Doctor Who Magazine "a full-blooded, horror-ish sort of thing, with sinister ravens and zombie cricketers!" (well, they're not exactly 'zombie' cricketers - coming so soon after the release of my Torchwood novel, Bay of the Dead, I don't just want to become known as 'that zombie guy' - but we'll let that pass).

I'm down in London this week for the recording of Village of the Damned, and though details have not yet been revealed, I can tell you that it's got an absolutely stellar cast. I can't wait to hear them all in action, bringing the words of my script to life.

In other news, I've recently sold three new short stories to three different anthologies (more details once contracts are signed), and am currently juggling four projects - the aforementioned Cinema Futura, a long-overdue novella for Earthling Publications, a co-written novel with a very good friend of mine, and a major re-structuring job on a novel that's been sitting patiently in a drawer for about 18 months while I've been frantically scribbling books and scripts for Doctor Who and Torchwood.

Hope to see some of you at the BFS Open Night next week.

Cheers for now.

Just a quick note to let you all know that the next BFS Open Night on Friday 3rd July at The George pub in Fleet Street (that's in London, in case you weren't sure) will have a distinctive Torchwood flavour.

Me and fellow Torchwood novel authors Sarah Pinborough and Guy Adams will be joined by Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures scriptwriter Joe Lidster (whose new Torchwood audio, In The Shadows has just been released) to talk about...erm, Torchwood. The panel will be chaired by Andrew Cartmel, who was script editor on Doctor Who between 1986-89. Should be a fun night.

A week later, on Thursday July 9th, me, Sarah and Guy will be teaming up to promote our Torchwood novels once again, this time at Borders in Leeds. We'll be reading from our books and answering questions from the audience, so if you can't make it to London, why not come along to Leeds and get a book signed. The fun starts at 6:30pm.

Okeley-dokeley, that's pretty much it for now. I'm juggling various projects at the moment, so I'd better get back to work - even though it's Sunday and a beautiful day outside. Bah.

Just a quick one. I've managed to get hold of a couple of dozen Pan paperbacks of my J.M. Morris novel, Fiddleback. If anyone would like a signed copy at half-price (that's £3.50. including p&p), then please drop me a line and I'll sort it out for you.

As you may have seen on the PS Publishing website, I'm currently girding my loins to begin editing Cinema Futura, the official follow-up volume to the highly-popular and award-winning Cinema Macabre. Whereas Cinema Macabre contained 50 essays on horror movies, the new book will contain 50 essays on science-fiction movies, all of which - as with the first volume - will be personally selected by the contributors. Please note, however, that this is an invitation-only anthology, so I'm not looking for spec submissions. There is no definite publication date for Cinema Futura yet, but we're currently looking at late 2010/early 2011.

Cheers for now.

...to everyone who sent me best wishes regarding my son, David, after my last blog. I'm now delighted to report that Dave is fit and healthy, and has had no reoccurence of the rapid heartbeat that was causing us so much concern before his operation.

Every time I update this blog, I always think that I must blog more frequently. My mate Tim Lebbon updates his blog every day or two, and he's always going on about the benefits of blogging little and often rather than doing a big splurge once a month. Maybe he's right, but I find that once I'm entrenched in a project and racing towards a deadline, it's hard to break away. Also, I'm never sure whether regular blog-readers (bleaders?) just want the hard facts - what books I've got coming out, what conventions I'll be at - or whether they like a bit of personal chat along with their news.

I guess there's no definitive answer to that. After all, everyone's different. During a recent drunken discussion, a friend of mine criticised my website because he said (and I quote) 'it's all about you.' Hmm. Personally, though, I like to read a blog in which you find out a little bit about the person writing it. Maybe I ought to put this to the vote. Maybe you 'bleaders' out there should let me know. More news, less chat? Less news, more chat? Or should I just leave things as they are?

Okay, here is the news:

Since my last update I've been working hard on my two back-to-back audio scripts. I still can't say too much about them yet, because they haven't been officially announced, but I can tell you that one of the scripts has been approved by all parties, and will be recorded next week (and I'll be down in London for the recording - really looking forward to that), and the other script - which is longer and more complicated - has just gone through a second draft, which I delivered this morning.

I'm now in the unusual and rather lovely position of having no imminent deadlines for the first time in I don't know how long. This doesn't, however, mean I have nothing to do - no, sir. I've still got 3 short stories to deliver to various markets by the end of June, a novella to complete for a US publisher, a novel to restructure and rewrite, and I'm also about to embark on a major project I'll be co-writing with a very good friend of mine. But the point is, the crushing pressure is off for the time being. I can afford to relax into these projects a bit, think them through properly, take my time with them if I so wish. Of course, I've still got a living to earn, so I'll still be pushing myself to complete my 10k words a week or whatever. But psychologically the next few months should be a little less pressurised.

One other snippet of news: my Torchwood novel, Bay of the Dead, originally scheduled for May, has now been put back by a month to June 4th. Myself and fellow Torchwood authors, Sarah Pinborough and Guy Adams, will be doing some promotional events around the time of publication, though the only one confirmed so far is a panel/signing at Borders, Leeds, at 6:30pm on Thursday 18th June. Hope to see you there.

Finally, just wanted to mention a really good indie horror movie I saw last night called Splinter. It's available on DVD pretty cheaply from Amazon, and is a cracking little film - well shot and well-acted, with a great, original monster. It reminds me a bit of Feast, another excellent indie horror film, which I saw last year. Both movies are about a disparate group of people trapped in an isolated building which is under siege from ravening creatures. The main difference is that Feast is played largely for laughs - and it is genuinely hilarious, albeit hideously gruesome - whereas Splinter is much darker and serious. Both highly recommended, though.

And speaking of which, I'm going to see the much lauded Let the Right One In tomorrow. Really looking forward to that. I hope it lives up to the hype.

What is it they say about best laid plans? The eagle-eyed among you will notice that I haven't updated this blog for almost three months now - but I do have a very good reason.

Having enjoyed a couple of weeks off over Christmas, I sat down at my desk on Monday January 5th, ready and eager to knuckle down to some real work again. I had a pretty tight schedule to stick to - two deadlines, one on February 6th, and another on March 31st, to meet - and, as ever, enough projects to keep me occupied for at least the first six months of the year, and I was looking forward to the challenge.

However, all my carefully-laid plans were thrown into chaos by a phone call that afternoon.

For some time my 14 year old son, David, had been experiencing an occasional rapid heartbeat when he played sport. No sickness or dizziness, just a racing heart, which would usually last for a minute or so before settling down. After undergoing various inconclusive tests, plus assurances from the specialist that the problem was not uncommon in teenage boys, it was decided to fit Dave with a heart monitor for the weekend of 2-4 January in the faint hope of getting to the - ahem - heart of the problem.

As luck would have it, on the Saturday morning when Dave was playing badminton, his heart did its jitterbug thing and the monitor was duly returned to the hospital on Monday morning, with the specialist assuring us that he was sure everything would be fine.

As it turned out, however, things were not fine. Instead the monitor readings showed up a 'potentially nasty irregularity' in Dave's heart, as a result of which we were asked to whisk him straight down to the Children's Cardiac Unit at Leeds General Infirmary the minute he got home from school.

For the next ten days Dave stayed in hospital, being constantly monitored and undergoing various tests, including an MRI scan. We were told that the readings had indicated a 5% chance that Dave might have a potentially life-threatening heart condition, and that only an exploratory operation - which was booked in for the following Thursday (January 15th) - would reveal the truth.

We spent those ten days on tenterhooks, unable to settle to anything, and making constant trips to and from Leeds LGI. It was an odd, slightly surreal time, made even more surreal by the fact that Dave wasn't ill at all. He spent those ten days mooching around bored, reading, watching DVDs, playing board games with us when we were there and trying to keep up with schoolwork.

The day of the operation was horrible. We arrived at the hospital at 8a.m. and then sat around for hours, having originally been told that Dave would be taken down to theatre at 9:30. In the end he was taken down at 1:30p.m. and we went down with him, staying by his side until the anaesthetic took effect and he drifted off to sleep.

That was the worst moment, watching him go under. I can only imagine it's a bit like watching someone die, because after shuddering for a few seconds, Dave's body went completely limp, to the extent that the anaesthetist had to put a finger under his chin to stop his jaw from dropping open. Until that moment I had felt reasonably calm, but watching Dave go to sleep brought all the emotion flooding out and for a few minutes I felt shaky, close to tears, and unable to speak.

Nel and I spent the next couple of hours wandering around Leeds, browsing aimlessly in bookshops and drinking coffee, waiting for the phone call from the hospital. We were told that the operation would normally take about 3-4 hours, and that the longer it took the better the news was likely to be, because it would probably mean that the surgeon had found a relatively minor problem (the 95% option) and would fix it straight away. However, if the problem was more serious, then the patient would be taken straight back up to the ward until it was decided - during discussions between patient, parents and surgeon - how best to proceed.

In this instance, therefore, we were happy for the hours to crawl by, but as it turned out, the call from the hospital, to say that Dave was back on the ward, came after 2 hours.

What did this mean? Was 2 hours good or bad? We ran back to the hospital, to find Dave conscious but feeling horribly sick from the anaesthetic and sore from the operation. We then had to wait another hour or so until the surgeon was free to see us. And finally, finally, we got the news we'd been hoping for.

Dave had (and please be aware that I'm eschewing technical terms here in the interests of clarity) a 'misfiring connection', which was causing his heart to go crazy now and again. It's apparently a fairly common problem, pretty minor and easily treatable (the surgeon basically just sent a hot wire up into the target area and burned the bastard out). Dave was allowed home the next day, and was back at school on Monday. He recovered quickly - hell, the two of us even went to see the Buzzcocks together on the Saturday night, two days after the operation - and (touchwood) everything now seems fine. Dave has played plenty of sport in the past six weeks with nary a whisper of a jitterbugging heart. We're fervently hoping that it stays that way.

Deliriously happy though we were, the knock-on effect of all this was that my work schedule was shot to shit. I eventually started a 100-minute audio script (for a project which I'm not allowed to talk about yet, because it has yet to be officially announced) on January 19, instead of January 5, with a contracted delivery date of February 6. Yikes. In the event my deadline was kindly extended to March 1 (and in actual fact, I delivered this morning, 3 days late), albeit with the deadline for a further audio script (again, something I'm not yet allowed to talk about in detail) still set at a very definite March 31, because of immovable recording dates due to actor availability. It's a tight schedule, but I should be able to manage it.

However, the real victims of this 'concertina effect' were peripheral things like this blog, which I literally couldn't find even a spare hour to devote to updating. I'm only managing to do it now because I need at least a slight breather between finishing one project and plunging into the next.

As it goes, I've nothing much to report release-wise. My next book, as I've mentioned previously, will be Torchwood: Bay of the Dead, which is out early in May. Before that, in a couple of weeks time, the audio book of my September 2008 Doctor Who novel, Ghosts of India will be released by BBC Audio, read by the wonderful David Troughton. I've admired the work of David Troughton, who of course is the son of the second Doctor, Patrick Troughton, for many years (remember his hilariously edgy performance in the brilliant A Very Peculiar Practice back in the 80s), and so it's an incredible thrill to hear him read the words that I've written.

The only thing left to add for now is that I'll be making a couple of personal appearances over the next two months. This coming Saturday (March 7) at 1p.m., Rob Shearman and I will be talking about writing for Doctor Who at Nottingham Central Library, and then on Sunday April 5 at 4p.m. I'll be appearing at the Hyde Park Picture House in Headingley, Leeds, where I'm being interviewed about writing for Hellboy as part of the Leeds Young Person's Film Festival.

And that's it. Until next time...

Had a great few days at my old mate Tim Lebbon's house the weekend before last. Tim and I are working on a project together, and we had an incredibly productive couple of afternoons in Tim's study, firing ideas at each other. I can't say too much about the project just yet, but it's something we're both really looking forward to getting our teeth in to. We've laid all the groundwork now and the plan is to start the actual writing round about April/May, by which time hopefully our various other commitments will be out of the way.

It wasn't all work at Tim's, though. It was great to spend time with Tim's wife, Tracey, their lovely kids, Ellie and Dan, and their mad dog, Blu. We ate a lot of good food and drank a lot of good wine, which we offset by taking Blu on a couple of woodland walks in absolutely perfect conditions - bright sunlight shining on a glittering frost-covered landscape. Beautiful.

I finished and delivered a commissioned short story this afternoon and am now getting to that stage where my brain is winding down for Christmas. There are cards to write and presents to wrap and the house to clean in time for the arrival of relatives next week.

Before I go, though, I just wanted to share a couple of covers with you. The first is for a new version of my 2005 novella, Stumps, which was originally published in the Cemetery Dance anthology, Fourbodings, edited by Pete Crowther. This new version will be published by Barrington Stoke, who produce books for reluctant readers, and has been reduced from 45,000 to 15,000 words. I'm not sure exactly when it's out, but I think it's around springtime next year.



The second cover is for my Torchwood novel, Bay of the Dead, which will be out in May. Despite spending twenty years ostensibly as a horror writer, I can honestly say that this is the goriest cover I've ever had. I love it!



Merry Christmas!

This last month has been mental! In fact, this entire past year has been mental. I'm sure I've written more words this year than I've written in each of my previous twenty years as a professional writer. I suddenly seem to have hit a stage in my career where I'm being commissioned for books and stories and scripts, and being asked to appear at various events to talk about writing horror and/or Doctor Who and/or Hellboy, all the time. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it, and I find it hard to turn things down, because a) it's money in the bank, and b) the stuff I get offered always sounds so interesting and exciting, but I have to admit there are times when I don't know if I'm coming or going. It doesn't help that I still work two days a week in a bookstore in Leeds. Thing is, I've got so much writing work on that I could give it up. But it brings in a few extra shekels, and I'm superstitiously worried that if I do give it up, suddenly all my writing work will dry up, and I'll be left with nothing.

Anyway, the mental month began in Calgary, Canada, at the World Fantasy Awards. As mentioned before, I was a judge for this year's awards, and I was really looking forward to the Awards Banquet on Sunday to see all our months of toil and discussion finally pay off. I flew out to Canada with fellow Brits and good friends, Steve Volk, Rob Shearman and Graham Joyce, and what wonderful company they were! We didn't stop chatting and laughing and having fun the entire weekend. Once at the hotel, I caught up with plenty of other old friends - Steve Jones, Tony Richards, Ellen Datlow - and made lots of new ones. Special mention should go to fellow Convention attendees and Calgary residents Charles and Kris Prepolec for their friendliness and hospitality during our stay. They bought us drinks and meals and were thoroughly charming company. Lovely people.

At the Awards Banquet, I was particularly delighted to see Rob Shearman pick up the award for his brilliant collection Tiny Deaths. I was familiar with, and a huge admirer of, Rob's Doctor Who scripts for Big Finish and his TV episode Dalek, but I didn't realise he had written any prose until I saw a copy of Tiny Deaths in the bathroom of a friend's house in Manchester late last year. I ordered the book online, read it and thought it was one of the best short story collections I'd come across for years. I then got in touch with the publisher, Comma Books, and urged them to send copies to my fellow Fantasy Award judges. And to my delight, the other judges were as enthusiastic about the book as I was. In fact, one of them, Dennis McKiernan proclaimed it the best short story collection he'd ever read. It was some time after this that Rob and I, thrown together at various Doctor Who events during my 'promotional tour' for Ghosts of India met and quickly became good friends. So when the winner was announced I was doubly delighted. It honestly couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

During my stay in Calgary, and for the past four weeks since my return, I've been hard at work on my Torchwood novel, Bay of the Dead. I'm delighted to report that the book is finished and delivered now, and has been met with enthusiasm by BBC Books. Phew. As soon as the Beeb give the go-ahead, I'll stick a copy of the cover on my website. It's a beauty. Probably the goriest cover I've ever had.

Literally two days after finishing Bay of the Dead I had to get a synopsis in to...erm, well I'm not allowed to talk about that yet. I'd been given two weeks to deliver the synopsis, but the clash of deadlines meant that once the Torchwood book was delivered, I was left with only two days to write it. I therefore spent an incredibly tortuous, stressful couple of days trying to work out a long, complicated plot from beginning to end. I finally managed it, but I was reminded of a section from the book I'm currently reading, A Writer's Tale by Russell T Davies and Benjamin Cook, which chronicles the ups and downs of Davies's writing experience on series four of Doctor Who. It's an incredible, unflinchingly honest book, and if you're even vaguely interested in the writing process I'd recommended it wholeheartedly. There are many sections which struck a chord with me in relation to my own writing experiences, but the one in particular I'm thinking about involved an email exchange between Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat, soon to become Doctor Who's new show-runner. During the writing of his series four episode Silence in the Library Moffatt sent an email to Davies, asking, 'Do you ever feel like sticking your head out of the window and shouting at the top of your voice, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!!"? To which Davies replies, "ALL the time."

Which, to my mind, pretty much sums up what being a writer is all about.

I've recommended both Tiny Deaths and A Writer's Tale during this blog, but one other book I must mention is William Heaney's (actually a pseudonym for Graham Joyce) novel, Memoirs of a Master Forger. I read most of it in one sitting on the 9-hour overnight flight back from Calgary (I can never sleep on planes - too uncomfortable) and it's fantastic. I love Graham's writing anyway, but this is one of his best. It's poignant, moving, beautifully written and observed, and populated by wonderful characters. I'll be amazed if it doesn't win awards next year. I'll certainly be voting for it.

Some bad and good news to end on. Sadly Humdrumming, who in the past couple of years have published lovely new hardback editions of my first two novels, Toady and Stitch, have gone into receivership. They were planning to reissue my entire backlist, and also to publish a new short story collection from me next Spring, but unfortunately that won't now be happening. It's a real shame that they've gone under. For the couple of years they were around they produced some great-looking books. The good news, however, from my point of view is that the collection they were due to publish, Long Shadows, Nightmare Light has now been bought by Pete Crowther at PS Publishing. PS are currently buying so far in advance that the book probably won't be out for a couple of years, but I can happily wait. It's always a real honour to be published by PS. They are the creme de la creme of independant genre publishing.

Finally and belatedly, I just wanted to say - Obama!! Woo-hoo!! Like everyone else I've spoken to, I'm so happy with the election result. Who knows what the future will hold, but despite the current financial crisis, suddenly the world seems a more optimistic place. Personally I think it was the 'Vote Obama' badges which Steve Volk and I were wearing in Calgary which swung it.

Until next time...

For the past few months I've been working on a couple of projects which I've had to keep under my hat until now. However they've finally both been officially announced, which means that I need keep silent no longer.

First up is my Doctor Who script for Big Finish Productions. As some of you will know (and some of you won't), Big Finish have been producing monthly Doctor Who audio adventures for almost ten years now, utilising past Doctors and companions, and even coming up with a few new companions of their own. They've also branched out into other areas - Sapphire & Steel, Dark Shadows, The Tomorrow People, various Doctor Who spin-offs, the full details of which are available on their website - but their main staple has been their excellent range of monthly, very successful Doctor Who adventures.

And now, finally, I've written one myself, and very proud I am too! A few months ago Big Finish invited me to pitch an idea for a one episode (25-minute) stand alone adventure for the 7th Doctor (Sylvester McCoy) & his companions Ace (Sophie Aldred) & Hex (Philip Olivier), based around the number forty-five. As November 23rd will be Doctor Who's 45th anniversary, the idea was that a CD would be released under the blanket title 'Forty Five', containing four separate 25-minute stories by writers new to the range.

In my two decades as a professional writer, I had never written a script before, but after a few days of prevaricating I decided to bite the bullet and give it a go. To cut a long story short, my idea was accepted, I was duly commissioned, and suddenly I found myself working (with a very tight deadline) on my first script, in the full knowledge that it would ultimately be performed by professional actors, recorded in a proper recording studio and released on CD for public consumption.

Gulp.

As it turned out, however, I thoroughly enjoyed the script-writing process. Once I got into the swing of it, I loved the challenge of trying to tell a story purely via dialogue and sound effects, and by the end (though I say so myself) I was pretty damn proud of what I managed to produce.

Script editor Alan Barnes was a great help, offering advice & encouragement along the way, and beautifully ironing out a few of the script's rough edges. My old mate, Paul Magrs, was brilliant too. He's done quite a bit of work with Big Finish, & he kindly sent me a couple of his scripts to read, just so that I could see what they looked like on the page and get the hang of exactly what was required.

Eventually, after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing for rewrites, my script ('False Gods') was accepted, and the Friday before last I found myself in the Big Finish studios in London to listen in on the recording.

I must say, it was fantastic to hear actors - to hear an actual Doctor, no less - speaking words that I'd written for them. What really made my day, though, was that the excellent director, Ken Bentley, had successfully managed to secure the services of Benedict Cumberbatch to play the main supporting role of Egyptologist Howard Carter. Benedict Cumberbatch is one of my favourite young actors (he played Stephen Hawking in the award-winning BBC2 drama a few years back, and was the lead in a recent BBC1 thriller series called The Last Enemy; he's also been in the movies Atonement & Starter For Ten) and he was brilliant in the role. What made it even better, though, was that he was also a really nice bloke, warm and friendly and happy to hang around all day, eating trifle and chatting.

All in all, it was a really positive experience, and I can't wait to hear the finished audio, with sound effects and music. The cover is at the bottom of this blog entry, if you want to have a butcher's. Having now lost my scripting virginity, I'm now eager to do more work for Big Finish, and in fact - though I can't say too much at the moment - I am currently talking to them about future projects...so watch this space.

My second big announcement is that I'm writing a Torchwood novel. It's called Bay of the Dead, and is an all-out, no-holds-barred zombie-fest, set in Cardiff. I love the TV series and am thoroughly enjoying writing for Captain Jack & co. The book - along with two others: Into the Silence & The House That Jack Built by friends & fellow horror writers, Sarah Pinborough and Guy Adams - will be out in May next year.

It's late notice, I know, but Tim Lebbon and I will be doing a talk/reading/signing in Sandwell Central Library, near Birmingham, tomorrow at 2:30pm. It should be a fun afternoon, so if any of you can make it along, it would be great to see you there.

Cheers for now.

Twenty years ago today I sold my first novel, Toady, to Piatkus Books. Even now I remember the day so well. I'd spent it round at Nel's (she was then my girlfriend, and is now my wife), working on what was to become my second novel, Stitch. However in truth I was feeling a bit down. Three of the four publishers I'd initially sent Toady to had rejected it, not because they didn't like it, but because they thought it was far too long for a debut novel. The book had taken me over two years to write, and was something like 250,000 words long, and I was beginning to wonder whether I'd wasted my time, whether I'd have been wiser writing two or even three shorter novels over the same period. I arrived back at my flat around 5 or 6pm, to find a letter on the hall table with Piatkus's logo on it. Fearing that it was yet another rejection, I opened the letter and started reading - and suddenly everything went weird and fuzzy. It was a long letter, but Judy Piatkus made it clear in the first couple of sentences that she loved Toady and wanted to buy it. It took me a while before I was able to read on. I was so excited and overwhelmed that I literally couldn't think. Eventually I phoned Nel and read the letter to her, and she screamed in my ear - with joy, I hasten to add. Then she cycled round to my house and we jumped up and down for a while - and no, that's not a euphemism - before phoning a bunch of friends and going down the pub and getting massively pissed.

So...erm...yeah. That's what I was doing twenty years ago today.

To bring things right up to date, on Friday I was at the Bath Children's Literature Festival for the second year running. Together with Robert Shearman and Simon Messingham, I was being interviewed about writing for Doctor Who. It was a sell-out event, and massively enjoyable. Just like last year the kids were incredibly excited and enthusiastic and full of love for the programme. What made it even better was that after the event a bunch of us went out for a meal. Our party included Nicholas Briggs, the voice of the Daleks and Cybermen, and...giant fanfare...Elisabeth Sladen! For those ill-educated louts among you who don't know who Elisabeth Sladen is, she played (and still plays) arguably the Doctor's most popular companion ever, Sarah Jane Smith. I remember seeing Liz's first appearance at my grandma's house back in 1973, when I was ten, so to be sitting next to her at dinner was a huge thrill. And I'm delighted to report that she was lovely and chatty, and that even up close she still looks incredible. I confessed to her that when we were introduced earlier that evening, my instinct was to be terribly unprofessional and just give her a great big hug - whereupon she grinned and gave me a great big hug!

Sometimes this job is just brilliant.

One of the nicest things about no longer being a judge for the World Fantasy Awards is being able to read the books I want to read, and at my own pace. You don't realise what a luxury this is until you have it taken away from you.

After finishing my judgely duties I went off on holiday and took a selection of the books I'd been stockpiling for the past six months. And after gorging myself on nothing but fantasy and horror for the first half of the year, I must admit that there wasn't a single genre book among them.

Maybe it was the sheer freedom of being able to read purely for the enjoyment of it, or perhaps I simply chose well this year, but I must admit that every single book I ended up reading on holiday was superb.

I started off with David Peace's The Damned United, a fictional account of Brian Clough's ill-fated 44-day reign as manager of Leeds United back in the 70s. As a Leeds fan, I guess I had a vested interest in the novel, but David Peace is always worth reading whatever he's writing about. He has a blunt, almost brutal style and his books have a kind of raw, savage poetry to them. I'd recommend them whole-heartedly, but be warned - they're not for the squeamish or faint-hearted.

The next book I read was The Rain Before It Falls by one of my favourite authors, Jonathan Coe. I still regard Coe's What A Carve Up! as his strongest book (and one of my favourite novels of all time), but The Rain Before It Falls is nevertheless a very worthy addition to his output. It's a beautifully structured and heart-rending novel about life and loss and regret.

Next up was Death of a Murderer by another of my favourite authors, Rupert Thomson. I haven't read all of Thomson's books, but I've read enough to know what an incredibly diverse and brilliant writer he is. Death of a Murderer is about a man looking back on his life from a hospital morgue, where he's been assigned to guard the body of Moors Murderer, Myra Hindley. He does this by conversing at length with the 'ghost' of Hindley, who may or may not be a product of his imagination.

All right, it all sounds a bit near to the knuckle, I know, but it's really not. It's thoughtful and poignant, and like all the other books I've talked about - and am going to talk about - in this column, it's incredibly compelling.

However, if I had to give a prize for my favourite book of a fantastic summer's reading, it would have to go to The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. It's taken me a while to get round to this - my wife, Nel, read it two years ago - but I'm so glad I finally made the effort. It's a wonderful novel. I really can't praise it highly enough. It's incredibly emotional, and gets right to the heart of what it means to be a human being. Again, it's a novel about life and death, about mortality and loss and the passage of time and the human condition. Towards the end it actually made me cry. I had to stop reading for a while because the tears were pouring down my face. But don't let that put you off. Believe me, it's a stunning novel. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's one of the best novels I've ever read.

It needed a strong novel to follow such an amazing book, and thankfully David Mitchell provided it with Black Swan Green. I hadn't read anything by Mitchell before, and I'm told that this is his most straight-forward and accessible book. It's about a year in the life of a thirteen year-old in the early 1980s. It's about growing up and coming to terms with life, and I absolutely loved it. It's funny and wry and (that word again) poignant, and so beautifully observed that anyone growing up in or around that time can't fail to recognise a great deal of themselves in the novel.

This weekend it's the British Fantasy Convention, which has been one of my annual highlights for the past twenty years, and this year looks like being as fantastic as ever. It's always brilliant to see so many old and dear friends, none of whom I see anywhere near often enough. I'm particularly excited this year because Christopher Golden is the US Guest of Honour. Chris is a great mate and I can't wait to see him. Because we live on opposite sides of the world, we only manage to get together once every year or so. In fact, the last time I saw Chris was at the World Horror Convention in Toronto eighteen months ago, so FantasyCon this year is going to be really special.

And of course I'll be as busy as ever. I'm on three panels this year, two of which I'm moderating, and will be involved in various book launches - in the role of contributing writer - throughout the weekend. In fact, one of the panels I'm moderating will feature a couple of writers who are making their convention debuts, Joseph D'Lacey and Bill Hussey, both of whose first novels have recently been published by a relatively new horror publisher, Bloody Books.

Keeping with this column's general theme of great reading, as soon as I heard Joe & Bill were to be on one of my panels, I went out and bought copies of both of their novels. I've now read Joe's novel, Meat, and I'm delighted to report that it's one of the best horror debuts I've read in a long time. Despite its lurid cover, which I must admit led me to believe that it was going to be just another unimaginatively gory stalk & slash fest, Meat is a thoughtful and incisive comment on the horrors of factory farming and the meat processing industry. It makes its points clearly and decisively, and yet the novel never comes across as preachy or crusade-led. Indeed the story is utterly absorbing, the characters vivid and the style strong and assured. I for one will definitely be looking forward to more of Joe's work in the future, and I'm also looking forward to meeting him personally in a few days' time.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I've only just started Bill Hussey's novel, Through A Glass, Darkly, and so don't feel qualified to comment on it just yet. Fifty or so pages in, I'm enjoying it so far, though. With my old mates Tim Lebbon & Sarah Pinborough making up the quintet it should be a fun and interesting panel.

Before I go, here's the cover of one of the books being launched at FantasyCon this weekend. We Fade To Grey is an excellent anthology of novellas by some of the best new writers in the genre. It's edited by the irrepressible Gary McMahon and published by Pendragon Press. I've provided the Introduction.

My fellow World Fantasy Award judges and I have now completed our six-monthly task of ploughing through the hundreds, if not thousands, of books and stories published in the genre last year, and after much debate and discussion the list of nominations in the various categories have finally been made public.

And already - perhaps inevitably - people have started to moan and complain and criticise. Here's what author Jeff Vandermeer had to say:

"Locus has posted the list of World Fantasy Award finalists. There are many fine selections here - including much deserved praise for John Klima's efforts - but I can't help but note a lack of daring on the part of the judges. This continues a trend, in my opinion, within core genre, towards the more conservative. Here, for example, is the list of best novels:

Fangland - John Marks (Penguin)
The Gospel of the Knife - Will Shetterly (Tor)
The Servants - Michael Marshall Smith (Earthling)
Territory - Emma Bull (Tor)
Ysabel - Guy Gavriel Kay (Viking Canada; Roc)

'Territory' is one of my favourites from last year, and I'm happy to see it on the list. I also think the others are solid, solid novels. But I'd put Michael Cisco's 'The Traitor' up against any one of them. Or Ekaterina Sedia's 'A Secret History of Moscow'. Or Hal Duncan's 'Ink'. Or, perhaps most criminally, Dan Simmons' 'The Terror', a novel that in scope and execution dwarfs everything just mentioned. David Anthony Durham's 'Acacia' is missing from the list. Nor does the intricate second volume of Catherynne M Valente's Orphan's Tales, 'In the Cities of Spice and Coin', get any love. Great novels by Daniel Abraham, Nalo Hopkinson, John Crowley and Paul Park also apparently didn't strike the judges the right way. Or Patrick Rothfuss. Just for example.

Granted, the final ballot includes voter choices as well, but the judges have the ability to add a sixth or even seventh choice to a category in cases where they don't agree with those voted-in choices. In the major categories, however, there are only five finalists this year.

Another striking omission is the lack of any content from online sources. With online magazines now providing some of the strongest and most original fiction, this seems somewhat reactionary. Or an oversight.

It's hard to complain when the job of judging is so thankless, but I do find some of these choices puzzling. The great thing, though, is you get to make your own lists. If there's something that I've mentioned or is on the ballot and you haven't read it, pick it up. Let us know what you think of it. Be your own judge."

Now, I'm not generally in the habit of responding to criticism - everyone is entitled to their own opinion, in my view, even if that opinion is wrong - and I'm certainly not going to answer every criticism which will undoubtedly be directed at this year's WFA nominations (not because the nominations are wanting in any way, but simply because everyone's tastes are different), but as Jeff Vandermeer's comments were the first to be brought to my attention, I thought I would offer some response in this instance, at least.

I'm not entirely sure what Mr Vandermeer means when he describes this year's choices as "conservative". I'm sure none of the nominees themselves would regard their work in this way. On the contrary, I think that many of the choices that we've made - The Gospel of the Knife, Tiny Deaths, Five Strokes to Midnight, Cafe Irreal, Ruan Jia and Mikko Kinnunen, for example - might well be considered unexpected in some quarters. And what, may I ask, is particularly daring or innovative about many of the novels that Mr Vandermeer himself champions? For the record, I will state that Dan Simmons' 'The Terror' was my own personal favourite novel of all those I was sent to consider, but for various reasons none of my fellow judges thought the same way, and so that particular novel was rightly vetoed. As for the other titles, I recall simply not being personally enamoured by most of them - not because they were too different or innovative or wacky or daring for me, but merely because they didn't grab me or engage me or impress me enough to encourage me to fight for them to go on the list.

As for Mr Vandermeer's comment that stories from online sources were largely ignored, can I just say that for the six months or so of the judging process my fellow judges and I were receiving literally dozens of packages of books and manuscripts, comprising thousands upon thousands of words, every single day, and we were all absolutely busting a gut to keep up with what editors and writers and publishers had taken the time and trouble to send to us (and all this while trying to make a living too!). Does Mr Vandermeer honestly expect us, therefore, to have expended even more time and energy scouring the internet, seeking out books and stories we hadn't been sent? If online editors and magazines had bothered to print out the stories they had published and had sent them to us, then we would happily have read them. But they didn't, which suggests to me that at the end of the day they perhaps didn't consider a possible WFA nomination worth the minimal time and trouble it would have taken to try and procure one - which is entirely their choice.

When all is said and done, I believe the crux of Mr Vandermeer's criticism is simply that we didn't pick the books and the stories which he wanted us to pick. In short, we didn't pick his favourites. But there's a very simple solution to that, Mr Vandermeer. If you haven't already been a WFA judge, then offer yourself as one for next year. Then you'll get to spend many thousands of hours wading through hundreds of books you don't like in order to find the few that you do.

Hi all

I'm getting ready to head off on a much-needed holiday, but before I do I thought I'd let you know that I'll be out and about in September, promoting my new Doctor Who book, Ghosts of India, which is released on September 4th.

So far the following signing/events dates are confirmed:

Saturday September 6th -- 10th Planet, Barking & Forbidden Planet, London. Simon Messingham and I will be signing at both these venues on this day, times to be confirmed.

Saturday September 13th -- Headingley Library, Leeds (2.30-3.30 pm). Mark Michalowski and myself will be doing an 'event' (not sure what this will entail at present) & signing copies of our new Who books -- and presumably whatever else people want to bring along.

Friday September 19th-Sunday September 21st -- British Fantasy Convention, Britannia Hotel, Nottingham. As is traditional, I'll be in attendance at FantasyCon for the whole weekend, and I believe I've been pencilled in to take part in a 'Doctor Who' panel this year, though a final programme of events has still to be confirmed.

Friday September 26th -- Bath Festival of Children's Literature. Paul Magrs, Simon Messingham and I will be taking part in a 'Writing Doctor Who' panel in the Guildhall, Bath, at 6.45-7.45 pm. We did the Bath Festival last year and it was fantastic, so I'm hoping this year's event will be equally as enjoyable. Also in attendance on the day will be Elizabeth Sladen (Sarah Jane Smith), Nicholas Briggs (the voice of the Daleks & Cybermen) & Steve Tribe (commissioning editor of the Torchwood range of novels for BBC Books).

Finally, just to go back to FantasyCon for a moment, The 2nd Humdrumming Book of Horror Stories, in which I have a story entitled Bad Call, will be launched at this year's Convention. If you're not going to be at the Convention to buy a copy signed by many of the contributors, you can order one from the Humdrumming website. Here's the cover:

The family Morris all went to see Toby Hadoke's Moths Ate My Doctor Who Scarf at the Little Theatre in Hebden Bridge on Friday. For those who don't know, Moths... is basically a stand-up comedy show, in which Toby talks about life, culture, politics and the human condition in general, and relates it all to his long-term love of Doctor Who. It's a brilliant show - poignant, bitingly witty and very, very funny. Even Nel and the kids - who like Doctor Who but don't know it inside out like I do - loved it. Afterwards we met Toby and had a chat with him, and he's a lovely guy. If you get chance to catch Moths... then I recommend you do so. You won't regret it.

Sticking with Doctor Who, I've spent this past month working on two Who-related projects, which I'm not allowed to talk about, because they haven't been officially announced yet. All I'll say is that one is finished, and was great fun to work on, and the other is still at the synopsis stage. As soon as I'm allowed to talk about them, I will.

Finally, here's the cover for my forthcoming Hellboy novel, The All-Seeing Eye. It's a real thrill to think that Mike Mignola has done a piece of Hellboy artwork based on my ideas. The novel is out in October, but is already available to pre-order on Amazon.

Cheers for now.