Fortnightly update 26: 23.11.2020 to 06.12.2020

In this blog series, I share my fortnight-to-fortnight triumphs (and failures) as a writer. Despite all the ups and downs, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Flash fiction and short stories

I’m currently submitting flash fiction and short stories to online magazines and such for publication. This fortnight, I got my SECOND acceptance, in another of Black Hare Press‘s anthology series — Seven Deadly Sins. This one was just under 1,000 words, so I’m just under 10 times more excited than I was last fortnight.

Frontier Media

I write scripts for Frontier Media, a media production company specialising in YouTube. Our two largest channels are The Front and Geetsly’s, and while I’ve written for Geetsly’s in the past, I mostly write for The Front. Three videos for which I wrote the scripts were uploaded this fortnight.


I write 280-character stories using various writing prompt hashtags on Twitter, and I also host #WeirdVSS. This fortnight, I wrote six stories, so I’m back on track!

#dark / #weird

When he shut his eyes, he didn’t see darkness, but the infinite, congealed weirdness of his own creation. It was safer there, in his own world, until, one day, he recited a phrase marked in a twisted old tome, opened his eyes, and let his world come pouring out.


There’s no core in the centre of the world, but a contracted heart, getting ready to thrust out a billion trillion tons of blood and shake everything that grew on its skin between its aeon heartbeats down into its pores.


Dash my brains out and make a mosaic of my skull. Suck in another bowl of that lung-shaking junky honey and put me back together. I’ll pick you apart right after, my crystal-cheeked doll, and fucked if we don’t stop till the freeway rooster-crows us to our sweating bed.


There is a castle on the lake and a lady in its tallest tower. She sings when the Moon is full and mirrored. Men row to her in scores, the rotting skiffs of those who rowed before them choking her gripping banks, their wives left to sing ever for their own loves lost.


The firestorm swept over, melting those who’d hidden underground. A week later, in the city’s charred remains, firemen opened a cellar beneath what had been a pagan church, and the survivors clambered out, fused together in a screaming mass of molten flesh and bone.


Other than the news of my second publication acceptance, this fortnight was relatively quiet. It’s probably the calm before the shitstorm that is the December/January period for YouTube creators.

Thanks for reading <3