Death of the Author, the chose your own adventure murder mystery guide to modernist poetry I wrote, was previously only a book. Now it’s now available as an online game!
It’s currently lacking some of the beautiful text art of the printed version. But it’s still fun, contains all the novel poetical ways to die and can be played here…
Play Death of the Author online
I, for one, recommend it.
I have a book. It is on sale this Saturday. Hooray!
It’ll be available at Free Verse: The Poetry Book Fair this Saturday. So if you can’t wait any longer to get this book you’ve been hearing so much about (?!) then come along. They’ll be so many other great people. I’ll be hovering around the Gug Press stall, where you’ll be able to pick up so much quality poetry you’ll need to buy a new bookshelf!
Theseus slayed the Minotaur and escaped the labyrinth a hero. Then he left Crete forever. But beneath the ground, all was not quite so complete. Continue reading
In the dark of the dwindling sunlight, the roar of cars and buzz of sodium street-lights long gone, the arcing bottle barely disturbed the quiet or the stillness. Then it broke. Some homemade spirit ignited from the cloth rag and the flames licked at the concrete wall. Then nothing.
Inside, the soft candlelight didn’t alter its flicker on account of what was happening outside. The marble tables stood fast. The piano played on. Continue reading
“Just tattoo another name over it.” Water ran over his his hands while he spoke, an insipid red stained the sink with his efforts.
I’m trying my hand at making some comic strips, it seems like a really fun format to play with. I’ll try to put up one a week for the foreseeable future. Comments welcome.
Outside the noise of the crowd thundered, reverberating against the walls of the tiny capsule. It’s two occupants moved, what little they could, to try to see each other.
“Stevenson, how are you holding up?”
It was Captain Chang who spoke up first. See was the pilot, although that title suggested a degree of control that no one had quite worked out for the machine, and thought that obliged her to at least act like a leader.
“Quite well. I can’t move, which is a little uncomfortable, but I’m also strapped inside an experimental time machine, which sort of overshadows any discomfort.” Continue reading
Time span and swam, kicked and tripped over her then stopped. When it started again she was in a library. Continue reading
Jon Madge 