Where did 2016 Disappear to?

So another year has swept silently by, taking with it many of my heroes into the ether that is the afterlife. Although last year for me seemed to be a never ending stream of loss and disappointment,  It was also a very productive one. I completed a number of projects. Some of them were ghost writing projects for others, but I have also moved the follow up to Five Daughters Of Spite along considerably.  Moving on from the theme of Spite as an entity, this collection reflects upon those human emotions that hold us back and chain us to our mundane existence, More details to follow shortly, but I hope to have this second collection of poetry published by the second half of this year.

The prodigal writer

I was surprised to see that I had neglected my blog since July 2014. The time since then has been a bit of a blur for me, a number of challenges have meant my writing had taken a back seat. In order to write, one has to read and also gain life experience. I'm fortunate in that in my new role as a consultant I get to travel quite a bit so reading and gaining new experiences have been in plentiful supply.  It made sense to me that the writing drought should be broken by taking part in the flash challenge that is the prediction, as that is the place where I first started taking my writing seriously.
My first piece in about 12 months is over at  http://predictionfiction.blogspot.co.uk so why not take a look or have a go yourself, new writers are always welcome, as well as lost sheep returning to the fold.

No Sight For The Saved

I'm more than a little Excited today, because  No Sight For The Saved has been launched, an anthology of work inspired by a great artist of the horror genre Niall Parkinson. I'm a big fan of Niall's work so I'm incredibly proud to be one of the authors chosen to be in this anthology. Each written piece is inspired by and accompanied by an image of an original art work by Niall. Grab the opportunity to own a great book on kindle.

No Sight For The Saved - Amazon UK

No Sight For The Saved - Amazon USA

Days of madness starts tomorrow

The schedule for Days of Madness has now been published. My offering  "The Talking Hand" goes online on Wednesday the 19th. However I am totally overwhelmed by the talent that surrounds me that I would urge that you visit starting tomorrow to read some great original fiction. Days of madness

Great News

The authors of this years Days of Madness (DOM) have been announced over at Chris Allinote's Leaky Pencil.
I'm very proud and honoured to have been chosen to be amongst some very fine company, some fantastic talent for whom I hold a great admiration.

You can keep up with the madness over at http://chrisallinotte.blogspot.co.uk which starts 15/03/2014

The Winter of Eternity from Five Daughters of Spite

The Winter of Eternity

 The wind sweeps through this forgotten seaside town,

everyone has left now the sun is not around.

Every bone in pain, my body a colander to the wind,

bent double in wretched agony, I move on.

I scour the beach and town in search of you,

through places you’ve likely never been.

A delicate yet frantic search,

for the girl that no one’s seen.

Your face etched into my retina,

my eyes exhausted of their tears.

This loss has ripped the soul from me,

and drained me of my years

If I had held your hand more tightly,

taught you to defend yourself from harm.

To run from things unsightly,

and avoid those speaking words that charm.

Would our world be any different?

Would you still be with us now?

Or would this winter of eternity

Still be upon us now?

William Davoll (C) 2012

From the The-Five-Daughters-Spite  Available on Amazon

Invisible

As it's Mothers day today, this is for all those mums that will be forgotten, tucked away in hospitals and care homes up and down the country.

Invisible

Invisible like a pebble in a moat, I lay and wait all day.

Reality is a slur in my mind; my perception’s almost blind.

A lovely man holds my hand, till noon every day

He tells me he’s my husband and I often wish he’d stay.

The daytime nurses chat with everyone but me!

I call out, but they don’t hear, they shut my curtains so I can’t see.

At night they leave me laying in my soaking wet nightdress,

they disconnected my panic button, so I can’t alert my distress.

My son arrives, every day he brings me something from the shop.

If he knew what’s been going on, he’d make this cruelty stop,

but he has his own troubles, and worry clouds the beauty of his face,

so a mothers love cannot reveal the depth of my carers disgrace.