Thursday, August 30, 2007

new Philbin interview @ Associated Content

thanks to Nickolaus Pacione for his in-depth knowledge on all things Chimera, here he is interviewing me (across four pages) about 'the writing life before, during and after Hertzan Chimera' on Associated Content, the media site for the people.

Sunday, August 26, 2007


Wife swap lard-ass demon goes ape!

I mean, it's funny but... those poor, bewildered children who obviously love their mommy. Yes, this is what possessed people look like, children:

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Mike Philbin novel PLANET OF THE OWLS - second draft

it's been in storage since its first drafting, earlier in the year. But with the Bukkakeworld novel out of the way (it's with a publisher, editor loves it, awaiting word back from his board of directors), I started work on the second draft of Planet Of The Owls, my most sci-fi novel yet. Well, everything I do has elements of horror, sci-fi, thriller, who-dunnit, romance. Always teh romance. However, this book's about romance with angels. And angels' morals, well, they're from another plane, right, and it's neither pretty nor kind-hearted. There are global cataclysmic issues to resolve...

I'm really enjoying revisiting this book, ripping out the guts of the second parallel half, restructuring it anew and rewriting and enhancing the apocalypse scenes, the Reckoning. No spoilers there but it's gonna rock! Great fun. And a pacy, little thriller to boot.

Three days later: novel's word count came to 50,000 and I now know what that blocked-out 'first draft' was lacking, ENIGMA. All my writing life, and I remember this from some of the earliest critiques of my prose-poems back in the Dreams & Nightmares and Psychopoetica days, I've tried to explain too much in my writing, tried to fasten off every bleeding artery, tried to explain too thoroughly. See, I'm even doing it here. This time, I let the words and actions of the principal characters weave their own spell - I just hung on for the ride. The rewrite/restructure of PLANET OF THE OWLS went 90 billion times better than I could ever have imagined, given the state of that first pass. Happy, happy, happy.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Tony (Anthony H) Wilson R.I.P.

Tony Wilson was a big northern TV star when I was growing up - the Look Northwest evening show. He owned and ran Factory Records and the Haciende nightclub in central Manchester. Quite by chance, he became the reason why I finally found the publisher of my first novel RED HEDZ (Creation Press of London) back in 1989.

He'd had a 'road to Damascas' moment or something and was now going under the moniker Anthony H Wilson (he'd clearly been looking into his numerology). He had this late-nite contemporary arts and literature show, forget the name was it Dark Side? And who was being interviewed that night but James Havoc of Creation Press (the publishing arm of Creation Records) talking about his new all-capital-letters thesaurus-archaism known as RAISM. I phoned up Creation Press the next day, got Red Hedz a publisher.

Here are links to his two-part Video Obituary on YouTube: I personally like the way he explains, "Yeah, when you're diagnosed with terminal cancer, finally everyone loves you."

L.O.L. a lovely man to the bitter end.

obituary - part 1
obituary - part 2

Anthony H Wilson 1950-2007 R.I.P

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Bukkakeworld climax approaches

...two of the most harrowing chapters I've ever allowed myself to write. Each chapter in the book is about 1,500 words because, quite frankly, that's all I think the reader can take in one sitting.

I already have the final chapter (that needs a blissful rewrite) and have just the penultimate chapter to resolve. I did quite a bit of writing last night and then didn't sleep much knowing I'd have to deal with these two truly horrible chapters this morning. For example, I was awake at 3 a.m. taking notes on the most effective way to re-insert HORROR into a book many would consider to be just Philbin having a bit of a piss about. The 3,000 words I wrote this morning that sets the scene for this penultimate chapter are so raw and disturbing, they may never be totally understood by the reader, and that's okay because as you know, I don't care about the reader one iota.

Anyone who writes for love can't really care how one's 'imagined' clique of loyal-so-far readers will respond to one's latest outpouring. Horror, for me, and I'm a self-confessed radical in the genre, is all about stunning the reader, making him totally afraid to turn the next page, making him totally dubious about even picking up your book, such will be his horror when reading Bukkakeworld.

Update: Rewrote the final chapter and Bukkakeworld's in the lap of the Gods now (or the whim of the commissioning editor) at the publisher who rained rather gushing praise (no pun intended) upon the first three chapters he recently read. Fingers crossed that I didn't totally fuck it up.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

Cycling: Botley - Woodstock - Oxford - Botley

It was a lovely day and I was in no rush. I was just mooching around on the bike heading east from Botley into Oxford and realised I hadn't been past the Perch (public house) since this time last year when I blog'd my rather damning whatever happened to the Perch? Erm, it's burned down - there's literally nothing left of it but the door, the thatched roof's gone and internally it's gutted. What a very sad end for a what used to be a proper country pub.

Cycled over Summer meadow and ended up on Woodstock road. I've been to Blenheim Palace before on the bus but never cycled. Thought it might be interesting to see if it's cycle-friendly and proceeded to make my way up the Woodstock road. I bought a little bottle of refreshment at the Co-op in Woodstock, then cycled round Woodstock in no particular hurry (signs advertise a medieval knights jousting competition on the weekend of the 10th -12th of August) before finally heading all the way back down to Oxford past the airport.

Through Oxford, down St Aldates and back onto the river, heading west to Botley. All in all took about two hours. Recommended.

hatred by the masses, revulsion among one's peers

...that's what one of the great literary thinkers once said, isn't it? "The best a writer can hope for is hatred by the masses, revulsion among one's peers."

I don't know if that statement's true but it's a philosophy worth pursuing, in my opinion. I got another rejection from a New York literary agent today, just another perfect result in my continuing campaign for obscurity, "Your book isn't what we're looking for."

I love it when a plan comes together.

August Update: Bukkakeworld last night raced past the 35,000 words mark and shows no sign of losing the momentum many in the horror industry thought it deserved. Allegedly, I have an award-winning publisher just chomping at the bit for me to finish this book - it'll be about 40,000 words so just four chapters or less left. If anything, momentum's growing and there's such a psycho-erotic pressure building, the resultant blast of narrative ennui might well make all the negative hype and jealous slander a historical burden worth shouldering.