S.P. Oldham's Blog, page 23
March 8, 2021
International Women's Day
The theme for International Women's Day this year is Choose to Challenge #choosetochallenge If you would like to know more, take a look at their official website International Women's Day 2021 #ChoosetoChallenge You may also be interested in their Creative page, featuring women of all kinds of creative ability and interest International Women's Day Mission Creative Their mission statement is: To celebrate the work of women creatives and elevate visibility for commercial projects and commissions.
I like to think of myself as a Creative, by virtue of my writing. I for one would love my work and projects to be elevated in visibility! I think this is a great mission. Here's hoping that International Women's Day 2021 proves to be a huge success, and that its achievements - creative, equality and others - carry over into the rest of the year and beyond.
Image: International Women's Day Creative
February 5, 2021
Ginger Nuts of Horror
Childhood Fears - my article for the presitigous The Ginger Nuts of Horror is up today. Click the link https://gingernutsofhorror.com/.../childhood-fears-by-s-p... and leave me a comment. Do you have any childhood fears that have followed you into adulthood? Any stories or experiences you want to share?
Feel free to share with your friends. Loads of great articles there to keep horror lovers happy!
February 1, 2021
WiHM - Red Cape Publishing Recommendations
My good Monday morning continues! A privilege to be included in this list of women authors compiled by Red Cape Publishing for this year's Women in Horror Month. Thank you Red Cape Publishing House
Some great recommendations for books in the genre here, plus some interesting links to reviewers, bloggers and other women who contribute to the horror genre.
Red Cape Publishing WiHM Recommendations
This is the Kindle cover for Wakeful Children:
This is the paperback cover, available in paperback form from Troubador:
Not a Bad Start to a Monday...
A nice way to start a new week. I log on to find that I have an honourable mention in tcstu's Tumblr blog monthly competition. The challenge was to write a short piece to suit a piece of art selected for that month. The art for the month of January 2021 was created by hydraart on Tumblr and can be viewed on either of those pages.
My Honourable Mention is a short piece of dark fantasy prose called Maran-do. Take a look at the winner and the other Honourable Mentions too.
As if that wasn't enough, I then log on to Facebook to find that I have won the weekly competition on the Grimdark Fiction Readers and Writers page. This challenge was to write a 'story' of no more than twenty words which was, again, prompted by a piece of art, this time by Marcel Marcado. The exciting thing about this is that I now have to go up against the winners of all of the previous weeks in January to try to win 'a small prize.' Bring it on! I love little challenges like this, that test the imagination and the self-discipline to comply to word counts and deadlines. What do you mean, I am supposed to be writing three (yes, three) books, not to mention a few new Silly Sunday Zombie Limericks? What's your point?!
December 31, 2020
Creepy New Year!
— S P Oldham (@dogskidssmiles) December 31, 2020
December 24, 2020
Merry Christmas
Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy and Peaceful New Year. Thanks for all the support (you know who you are!) Here's hoping that 2021 is a lot better than the disaster that has been 2020. Take care everyone, be safe, be healthy and be happy xx
December 20, 2020
'Menna' - Short Story for Christmas 2020
'Menna wound her way through the thronging high street, weaving in and out unnoticed by the distracted crowds. Her nostrils hummed with a thousand different scents, at once familiar yet strange. She paid them no heed, her focus on one thing alone: finding her way home.
She was confident that she knew the route from here, although she could not precisely recall how she had reached this point. All she had to do now was leave the painfully bright lights behind her, exchanging them for the softer glow of streetlamps on the roads beyond, and her way would become clearer.
She stepped down onto the road, flinching as a huge, unnatural monstrosity bore down upon her, twin lights glaring like an admonition. She froze, crouching low and cowering, expecting a blaring wail of sound to come. A sound she knew commanded her to get out of the way.
There was nothing. No screech, no ear-splitting blare, no cries of horrified onlookers. Puzzled, Menna slunk across to the other side, the pounding of her heart slowly receding as she reached safety.
This side of the street was far less crowded, a good deal darker. Her confidence returning, Menna broke into a trot, glad to be leaving the bustle behind her at last. She thought she caught a whiff of home, the length of her stride increasing until she was all but running towards it. Down past the stone wall where the musty odour of long-dead things drifted over her, along the lane where the hedges bristled with small life darting from her approach, before clearing the stile into what she had always thought of as the Free Place.
Menna loved coming here. Memories raced through her mind; being released, given leave to run as wild as she pleased. The smaller humans trying to race her, failing with good grace, their laughter ringing in her ears, echoing her own bright joy. In the Free Place, Menna found sticks to chew, puddles to splash through, scents beyond measure. Sometimes, there were even others of her own kind to play with. It was more than a place; it was a time and a feeling that her canine brain could not name, but that her heart knew and burst with love for.
She yelped with pure excitement, sensing the nearness of home and of her pack. She flew across the frozen ground, her paws numb to its icy coldness. A tall hedge rose before her. It was no hindrance. She knew where the gate was, her strides becoming compacted, stronger, until she launched herself over its top bar, her fur ruffling silkily, silently in the night.
She landed soundlessly on the other side. Panting, Menna turned, the scent of home powerful in her nostrils now. Just a few more paces and she would be back in the bosom of her pack, fussed over and petted until she became too exhausted to do anything other than curl up before the fire and fall asleep; succumbing to dreams in which her joyous return would govern all.
All at once, she was home. Beside herself with excitement, Menna sat proudly before the door, looking up at it, hoping that they would simply sense she was there and let her in.
For the longest time, nothing happened. Undeterred, Menna stood on her hind legs, using her forepaws to scratch with. The marks she had made by doing this over and over were etched into the glossy panels. She sat back, waiting patiently.
Puzzled at the lack of response, Menna began to whine softly. Surely, if they heard her crying, they would come then?
Still nothing. Menna, at a loss for what to do next, attempted her last move against this impenetrable defence. Resting her forepaws against the door once more, she nudged her nose under the flap in the centre and flicked upwards; once, twice, three times in quick succession.
This time, there was movement. Thrilled, Menna stood, wagging her tail in anticipation, folding her ears back over her head, a smile forming on her soft, eager face.
The door opened, drowning her in a sudden rush of warmth and familiarity. She languished in it, incapable of nothing beyond this ecstasy, just waiting for the touch of a loving human hand to bring her inside.
Then a strange new smell reached her. That of a different pack member, one she did not know. She tried not to let it dampen her joy, but something about it made her anxious. She looked up at the figure in the doorway. It was her pack leader, of that she had no doubt. But there was something small and wriggling in her arms.
A puppy.
Surprise and confusion warred within Menna. She sat down, trying to understand it. There had been no cry of joy at her return. Not even a word of recognition. What was the meaning of this young usurper? Was she not welcome anymore?
“Who is it?” Another of her old pack appeared in the doorway. Menna’s hopes rose again. She stood once more, wagging her tail in earnest.
“No one there.”
“Really? That’s odd. Well that is odd, right? I mean, we both heard it, didn’t we?”
“Yes, we heard it. It sounded like, well, just like, when…”
“When Menna used to ‘knock’ the door. I know.”
His voice had a mournful tone. Menna’s heart leapt at hearing her name spoken, but there was a sadness to the way it had been said.
“It’s okay hun, I miss her too. We all do.”
She heard sobbing, saw a silver tear fall to the ground, dropping slowly past her eyes like a silver leaf. Her confusion absolute, Menna could only sit and look upon her owners as they stood in the doorway, looking through her as if she was not there at all.
“Damned driver! Should have looked where he was going!”
“Hush now love, come on. What’s done is done. We’ll always love Menna, but she’s gone now. Just imagine how excited the kids will be when they wake up tomorrow to find little Dexter with a bow around his neck. They’ll be beyond thrilled!”
“Dexter’s beautiful, and I love him already, but no one will ever replace Menna.”
“Of course not. Dexter’s not a replacement, he’s just a new family member. Here, give him to me, he’s making a mess of your Christmas jumper!”
Menna watched in dismay as the puppy was passed from one set of hands to the other before being taken out of sight, deep into the heart of the home. Her home.
“I know you’ll never really leave us, Menna,” her pack leader was murmuring softly, looking up at the stars. Menna whined, lifting an unseen paw in consolation.
“Merry Christmas girl, wherever you are.”
The door closed, leaving Menna alone once more in the cold night air.
Disconsolate, she curled up on the doormat, not knowing what else to do. She tucked her nose beneath her tail and closed her eyes.
Sometime in the depths of the night, Menna’s form pulsed brightly once, grew dim, then faded away; silver trails falling upwards to mingle with the snow.
Inside, Dexter fell at last into sleep, all fear and doubt finally leaving him. He had been scared and unsettled when they had taken him from his mother, bringing him to this strange and overwhelming place. Now, he felt sure he was where he should be, where he belonged.
They needed him here. He could feel it.
S P. Oldham'
To see the story in its original form go to solostinwords.com
Merry Christmas!
December 15, 2020
Silent Wing Illustration by Mike Steward
I am so blessed in my friends. This beautiful illustration depicting Silent Wing, the key character in my fairy tale (of sorts) called The Feathered Nest, was done by the talented Mike Steward. Not only did Mike create this artwork, which is now framed and awaiting pride of place in my new 'office,' he also sent me a set of five greetings cards featuring the same illustration. Thank you Mike, for your interpretation of Silent Wing, for your time and your talent, and for the stunning final piece. I am deeply touched and more grateful than you can know.
You can find The Feathered Nest here: Mari on the Mountain and Other Short Stories
December 8, 2020
Time for a Creepy Christmas read, but what would you like? Let me know!
It's that time of year again. The building work in my house is a little more under control, hopefully will be pretty much done by Christmas, so I may just have time (and room) to pen a little something. What do you think - spooky Christmas prose, or spooky Christmas poetry? Or something else? What do you fancy? I may even be brave and do my third 'live' reading. Let me know!
November 23, 2020
Witch Marks and Mummified Cats...
This is fascinating! 'Witch marks,' marks to ward off the Devil and a mummified cat found in the walls of a Tudor house just down the road - more or less- from me. Llancaiach Fawr Manor is a beautiful place to visit, with an interesting history and tales of hauntings. I had an afternoon Christmas wreath making with my sisters there a year or two ago. They host lots of things for the public to attend, as well as a ghost walk. I would love to do one, when things are little more 'normal' again.
Witch Marks Found in Welsh Manor House - Article from In Your Area/Newsroom
Image:Llancaiach Fawr
Click the link to find out more about the beautiful and historic Welsh Manor, Llancaiach Fawr
