Eric Nash's Blog, page 5

No paddle or sail, but the horizon’s a beauty

Dispensing with further dramatics that evoke a lack of direction, I’ll just come out and say, I’m not writing. That I’ve been fortunate enough to have written almost everyday for over a decade has made it especially difficult to process not creating for a few months. It comes at a point where I’ve just finished my first short fiction collection, Along the Corpse Road, and have started work on my second, with enough ideas and impetus to carry me through to completion – or so I thought. So why now then, when I’m on a roll? There are a few possible reasons.

Blaming it on the personal stuff that’s been going on is easy, but there’s always that stuff going on, isn’t there? Historically I’ve continued to write through the bad shit, often finding the process cathartic.

When I was working on Corpse Road in 2020, my story submission rate dropped considerably and so far, this year, I’ve submitted just one piece to a magazine. Without this drive there’s a danger to feel even more isolated than usual as a writer.

Social media is always an easy target for a multitude of blame, and there’s good reason. It can eat into your time massively, distract and delay you, and ultimately provide you with and an abundance of opportunities for negativity and self-doubt. I have severely limited my time spent on such platforms, yet still I do not write.

I’ll admit that the current story that I’m supposedly working on has been a right bastard. It has been rewritten several times during which the protagonist has had a few stark reincarnations, the setting swapped back and forth and back again, the plot dissected, stuffed and stitched into something unrecognisable. Never before have I fussed over a story so much and remain dissatisfied. This is could be a chicken/egg scenario, though I have my doubts that the story is the problem.

Whatever the reason(s) for this break in creativity, the truth is that without sitting down every day and writing one word followed by another, then another, forming one nonsensical, or mediocre, or brilliant sentence after another, I will not write at all. Perseverance is key. I could sit back and drift but I miss writing, so I’ll use my head and my hands to ride this sea without sail or paddle. And maybe someone else is in their own boat. Hopefully this will help them, though, I admit, I didn’t write the post with them in mind. That was done for a purely selfish motive of kicking myself up the ass. A dare to get the job done.

So, what next for Nash after this self-reflection? Along the Corpse Road is under consideration. Two of my short fiction pieces are to be published: Wounds are Lips Waiting to be Kissed, will be featured in the upcoming issue of Ghostlight, The Magazine of Terror; The Memory of Hannah Babinski has been accepted for publication by Coffin Bell Journal. And, of course, work on my second collection, Sex, Death and Moonbeams (working title), will begin again today.

The Creased Spine Bookshelf

Four banging stories that stood out in June and one novel recommendation for you.

Short fiction

A Thousand Acres of English Soil by Benjamin Myers (from the collection, Male Tears, pub. Bloomsbury Circus, 2021) is a tale made chilling by its inevitability. The prose is so evocative that I could almost smell the earth under the characters’ feet.

Opening sentence: “The hare is on its haunches and sniffing the air when the man enters the middle field.”

Another from Male Tears by Myers: Bomber is quintessentially masculine, delightful and tragic.

Opening sentence: “That final night Bomber had an argument with Karen in the pub. It was very vocal and involved much waving of limbs and waggling of digits, mainly on her part.”

Fairy Tale by J S Breukelaar (from the collection, Collision, pub. Meerkat Press, 2019). The  characters in this collection are often battered; the masterfully written stories, dark yet philosophical. Fairy Tale is one such story, focussing on a war veteran suffering from PTSD.

Opening sentences: “Spring came late that year. I had just finished planting the cherry tree in the yard when I heard the grind of a skateboard out on Route 90, the thuckathuck of tiny wheels up the driveway.”

A note on the publisher: Meerkat Press are now becoming one of my go-to publishers for thought-provoking work.

Call Out by Steve Toase (from the collection, To Drown in Dark Water, pub Undertow Publications, 2021). A simple, short horror story set in rural north of England that deftly shows the eternal battle between faith and superstition. A great opening to an impressive debut collection.

Opening sentence: “Opening the field gate, Malcom sensed something born wrong sheltered in the old cattle shed.”

Long fiction

Foe by Iain Reid, (pub. Simon & Schuster, 2018). Interesting read, this one. I swung between feeling uneasy to frustrated to fully creeped out each time I picked this book up. It’s a dialogue-packed, quick-flowing novel with a slightly irritating protagonist, a disturbing villain, and a satisfying conclusion. 

Opening sentences: “Two headlights. I awake to the sight of them.”

(image credit: John Willie)

The Creased Spine – April

Welcome to April’s best that I’ve read. It feels like I haven’t read much last month, but that’s not exactly true. Less stories, same number of words. And a few stood out, so let’s get to them.

Short fiction

Sister by Seán Padraic Birnie (from the collection, I Would Haunt You If I Could, pub. Undertow Publications, 2021). Such a haunting and horrific portrayal of grief.

First line: “After my sister died, in the appalling silence which filled our home, I made an effigy from the store of materials in her studio.”

Long fiction

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward, (pub. Viper, 2021). This is a study in horror at its best. Ward’s skill in the first chapter continues to enthral us throughout this tragic story. A beautiful and engaging read, it’s also a crucial book providing a voice for the unheard. Go read it. 

First line: “Today is the anniversary of Little Girl With Popsicle.”

The Girls I’ve Been by Tess Sharpe, (pub. Hodder Children’s Books, 2021). From the beginning, Sharpe grabs you and runs. Nora, the protagonist, is ballsy, funny, and leaves you breathless in this story about survival and friendship. Ignore the YA tag, it’s an exhilarating read for both teenagers and adults.

First line: “It was supposed to be twenty minutes.”

Other mediums

Sublime Horror (podcast). I’ve been exploring podcasts recently and Sublime Horror is one of the best I’ve come across so far. It ‘celebrates the best in horror’, offering thoughtful discussion and analysis. While the website is certainly alive and delivering much-needed coverage of the horror genre, the six SH podcast episodes available date back to 2018/19.  

Podcast: https://www.sublimehorror.com/podcast/

(Image credit: unknown)

The Creased Spine Bookshelf – March

Welcome to the second instalment of the Creased Spine Bookshelf. A regular post listing what I’ve read that’s had a positive impact on me. This month features plenty of dark fiction and horror.

Short fiction

At This Table by Keith Rosson (from the collection, Folk Songs for Trauma Surgeons, pub. Meerkat Press, 2021). A wonderful love story with a phantom twist, in which Rosson extracts emotions then slops them onto a stone slab to air dry.

First line: “The table is in a restaurant in a building that was built in 1885.”

Walking Dog by David J. Rank (from the anthology, Call of the Wyld, pub. Wyldblood Press, 2021). The beauty of this short, blunt tale is in the matter-of-factness of the young protagonist.

First line: “The kid saw the cop coming long before he reached her.”

This, and the next story are both in the same anthology. I’ll proudly admit it’s a book in which my story, Rewilding, is also featured.

Werewolf Eulogy by Adam Stemple (from the anthology, Call of the Wyld, pub. Wyldblood Press, 2021). With believable characters anything can happen. A beautiful story too.

First line: “Fall scoots out of Minnesota as fast as the migrating ducks.”

SWANSKIN by Alison Littlewood (from the anthology, After Sundown, ed. Mark Morris, pub. Flame Tree Press, 2020). An eloquently told folktale that, like many, resonates loudly in today’s world.

First line: “Later, it is not so much an attack that I see, again and again, in my mind, but what came after it.”

Other mediums

Coven of Sisters (film, 2020, dir. Pablo Agüero, available on Netflix). A powerful movie that explores superstition and persecution in the Basque country.

Memorable line: “Nothing is more dangerous, you see, than a dancing woman.”

View trailer

Marianne (TV series, 2019, dir. Samuel Bodin, available on Netflix). An exceptional, quirky, frightening, funny French series with an excellent score and soundtrack. It’s about an evil force obsessed with a successful French horror writer. Unfortunately, Netflix cut funding for the programme after the first season due to poor ratings in the country of origin, despite being well-received internationally. The season concludes satisfactorily enough to warrant viewing.

View trailer

15% Discount on Books

I’ve teamed up with the fine folk at A Great Read to bring my followers a great deal on books. We are offering 15% off orders over £15 placed through their online store.

A Great Read is an independent family-run business, proud of our status as a small UK book retailer. We’ve recently been shortlisted for ‘Book Retailer of the Year’ by The British Book Awards.

Created in 2007, we sell a wide variety of books, and like to market smaller press titles to support other small UK businesses. We have achieved success with many of these titles in the past.

We aspire to be as eco-friendly as we can whilst selling books. All our packaging is recyclable and biodegradable and we are working to improve further on this.

Our Customer Service team are always happy to help and during business hours there is always somebody available to talk to you should you need help with your order.

A Great Read is very active on social media, posting regularly to our blog that features reviews of our favourite titles, along with author Q&As. We especially love seeing and hearing what our customers are reading, so be sure to share with us via @agreatreaduk.

Pop over to A Great Read to see their great selection. For the 15% discount, use the coupon code: NASHBOOKS15. The offer expires April 30th.

Spread the word and happy reading!

The Creased Spine Bookshelf – February 2021

This is something new that I’d like to try out for a while. I’m reading so many cracking stories that I feel compelled to shout about them. So, here we are with my monthly Creased Spine Bookshelf where I’ll be including a list of writing that has moved me in some way during the month, and I hope will have a similar effect on you. The set-up, as you’ll see below, is simple. I’ll provide relevant links and a one or two-liner summary, along with the crucial first line. If you’d prefer a little more detail as we progress, let me know, and if the demand is high enough, that’s what I’ll do.

Short fiction

Look at your Game, Girl by Kristen Roupenian (from the collection, Cat Person and Other Stories, pub. Vintage, 2020). A haunting story of a young girl and a drifter. Frightening and beautifully crafted.

First line: “Jessica was twelve years old in September 1993—twenty-four years after the Manson murders, five years after Hillel Slovak died of a heroin overdose, seven months before Kurt Cobain shot himself in the head, and three weeks before a man with a knife kidnapped Polly Klaas at a sleepover in Petaluma, California.”

Biter is another story in Cat Person and Other Stories. This is a humorous, darkly feel-good tale set in an office.

First line: “Ellie was a biter.”

Available from Vintage.

Stanislav in Foxtown by Dan Coxon (from the collection, Only The Broken Remain, pub. Black Shuck Books, 2020). A statement on modern day Britain rolled out on a leafy carpet of folklore with a deeply satisfying conclusion.

First line: “At night, lying in my bed, I often fantasize about murdering Mr Sharples.”

Available from Black Shuck Books.

Hippocampus by Adam L G Nevill (from the collection, Wyrd and other Derelictions, pub. Ritual Limited, 2020).

First line: “Walls of water as slow as lava, black as coal, push the freighter up mountainsides, over frothing peaks and into plunging descents.”

Full on horror that’s heavy-duty in the way Tony Iommi strums heavy. A book that VisitDevon may not be using for any tourism purposes.

Available from Ritual Limited.

Long fiction

Malorie by Josh Malerman, (pub. Orion, 2020).

First line: “Malorie stands flat against the brick wall of a classroom.”

I was a huge fan of Birdbox as a masterpiece in tension. This sequel isn’t far behind. I was rooting for Malorie throughout. I also thought it was an interesting reflection of parenting.

Available from Orion.

Other writing

Into the Forest and All the Way Through by Cynthia Pelayo (pub. Burial Day Books, 2020). A collection of true crime poetry of missing and murdered women that is too important not to be read, and too harrowing for a reader to be left untouched. Throughout I kept asking myself: Why?

Available from Burial Day Books.

Transgender hate crimes recorded by police go up 81% – https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-48756370.

I came cross this shocking report when I was researching my story, Michaela’s Wraith, for my own collection, Along the Corpse Road. This BBC article was from June 2019. In October 2020, the BBC reported that transphobic hate crime reports have quadrupled over the past 5 years.

The Creased Spine will be back next month with a few more suggestions, and I’ll be rereading a particularly delicious favourite of mine from Agustina Bazterrica.

Call of the Wyld

“Twelve grisly new tales of fur and fury in this brand new anthology of werewolf stories. Liam Hogan’s The Mortsafe, full of gothic darkness, Holly Rae Garcia’s Werewolf’s Lament (because werewolves have feelings too), Chris Muscato’s Howling on the Moon. Werewolves in space – and right in the place where it all happens for them. Full moon all the time – kill or cure, right? Then M.T Johnson’s Ivanwolf tells a very human story of some decidedly inhuman happenings. Holly Barratt’s Rabbit Ears in the Laundry helps us face up to some of the more troublesome consequences of living with a werewolf, but the mood swiftly darkens with the tense suspense of Eric Nash’s unsettling Rewilding. Laura Garrity’s The Lodger explores what happens when the new guy in the spare bedroom suddenly has more fur than a landlady has a right to expect, followed by a tale of doomed love – The Wolf is Always at Your Door by E.J Sidle, and C. H. Knyght’s To Prey which (spoiler) is nothing to do with going to church. Then a pause with the quirky Walking Dog by David J Rank before settling into a fine lupine love story – Adam Stemple’s Werewolf Eulogy. Then full circle with the Big L – like the opener the Mortsafe, this is a story of how to tame the curse, but with a very different outcome.” – taken from the anthology’s Amazon page.

Rewilding was written after a discussion about the reintroduction of gray wolves into Scotland. The story is based on the Beast of Barmston Drain. The Beast shot to fame when the national press reported eye witness accounts of a werewolf in the vicinity of Barmston Drain in the city of Hull in 2016. Despite a hunt, the Beast was never caught.

Call of the Wyld is available direct from the publisher’s website, Wyldblood Press, and also from Amazon.

Reviewed: Tender Is The Flesh

If a virus infected all animals and made them inedible to humans what would we do? In Agustina Bazterrica’s novel (translated by Sarah Moses), we adapted and legitimised cannibalism. Except “no one can call them humans because that would mean giving them an identity. They call them product, or meat, or food.”

The main character, Marcos, runs a meat processing plant which supplies tanneries, butchers, even game reserves, and we’re along for the ride, experiencing day-to-day industrialised farming through eyes uncomfortable with what they see. This nightmarish world is balanced by the humanity of Marcos whose wife is staying with her mother since the death of their child. He lives alone at the house, a “place of broken words and silences encapsulated between walls, of accumulated sadnesses that splintered the air, scraped away at it, split open the particles of oxygen. A house where madness was brewing, where it lurked, imminent.” His father, “a person of integrity, that’s why he went crazy”, is in a nursing home suffering from dementia. And Marcos has a troubled relationship with his city-dwelling sister. “He thinks that she was never much interested in maternity, that she had her kids because it’s one of the things you’re supposed to do in life, like throwing a party on your fifteenth birthday, getting married, renovating your home and eating meat.”

Bazterrica’s prose is simple and unencumbered but laced with enough emotion to gut the reader. It is a story about Capitalism, and about words because “there are words that cover up the world.” Ultimately, though, this novel is an exquisite exploration of what it is to be human.

Kitchen Sink Gothic 2

Kitchen Sink Gothic: “tales of darkness and horror, of the supernatural and the weird within the overall framework of the social realism of the kitchen sink drama.” – David Riley, Editor

The second volume in the Kitchen Sink Gothic series published by Parallel Universe Publications features my short story, The Christmas Tree. The premise of the story was inspired by a conversation I had one December a couple of years back, with a friend whose family had recently lost a loved one and were dreading the upcoming festivities.

Kitchen Sink Gothic 2 is a charity anthology and all royalties from its sales will be donated to Homeless charities. Homelessness is a massive problem for the UK. Shelter reported as recently as December 2019 that “280,000 people are recorded as homeless in England, an increase of 23,000 since 2016 when the charity first published its landmark annual report.” Given the current economic state, I’ve no doubt that figure will continue to rise.

So, please donate, share the links, buy the book, leave a review, and, of course, enjoy.

Purchase Kitchen Sink Gothic 2 via Amazon, or direct with Parallel Universe Publications

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