Roll up, roll up: Mittens, a new story.

The last story I had published in Black Static was ‘Listen, Listen‘, back in March.

Time moves quicky, the world is a different place, perhaps a shittier place, and here I am again, in the current issue of Black Static, with a new story, ‘Mittens’, a treat for afficiandos of fine knitwear and fast knitting.

The accompanying artwork, stylish and eerie, is by Richard Wagner, who illustrated ‘The Visitors‘ in issue 45.

Here’s how the story begins …

The first time I met him he was sat on the edge of a bed, naked except for a pair of pink mittens. The Foxbridge Hotel in Buxton. We found the body of a woman in the cupboard. She had been strangled and her chest had been cut open. Knitting needles pierced her major organs. There was blood on Percy Scollop’s mittens. Under the bed we discovered a black sports holdall containing several skeins of yarn and a selection of knitted items such as dolls, gloves, half-finished scarves. Scollop denied everything. He said he wasn’t Scollop. And he said the woman in the cupboard was not dead.

Black Static 53 Contents

BS 53 looks a strong issue, with stories by Priya Sharma, Steve Rasnic Tem, Harmony Neal, Kristi DeMeester, Danny Rhodes, Charles Wilkinson, plus regular features by Stephen Volk and Lynda E. Rucker. There are Peter Tennant’s book reviews, while Gary Couzens casts an eye over the latest DVD and Blu-Ray releases: The Witch, Penda’s Fen, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Goosebumps, The Hound of the Baskervilles, That Cold Day in the Park, Journey to the Shore, Evolution, Night of Fear, Inn of the Damned, Me and My Mates vs the Zombie Apocalypse, The Club, Even Lambs Have Teeth, Cherry Tree, The Ones Below, Visions, Baskin, i-Lived, The Forest, Intruders.

Black Static 53 can be bought here.

BS53cover

Cover illustration by Tara Bush

Lambert Flows

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of reading my work at the International Anthony Burgess Foundation in Manchester. If you haven’t been, you should. I was merely a warm-up nonentity before the main attraction, Magnus Mills, a tall and genial fellow in a noticeable shirt. He looks like Syd Little and sounds like Tommy Cooper. He  entertained the crowd with  a selection of droll readings, my favourite being a telephone interaction between a less than forthcoming grocer and an increasingly exasperated customer. Mills himself likened it to a Python sketch. He was very good.  But let’s return to the nonentity.  I read from a work in progress. The piece seemed to acceptable to a boisterous crowd hungry for Mills. Indeed, nothing unsavoury was hurled in my direction. Does that count as success?

Jamie Stewart reviewed the event for Humanity Hallows. I was pleased to see what he’d written:

“Lambert flows through Dublin,” Stephen Hargadon begins as he kicked off the night with the equally hilarious and gruesome story of a “faded, rather hairy pop-star from the 1960s, who hides himself away in the West of Ireland.” It’s hard to listen to Hargadon’s prose without feeling Dublin around you, hearing the river and the voices curl nearby. “Lambert is observing, listening, walking.” Hargadon’s ear for city sounds is both disarming and utterly charming. Hargadon has previously had his work published in Black Static and Popshot.”

To be pedantic, Lambert was strolling, not flowing, through Dublin. But no matter. My dulcet tones, combined with a dry mouth, probably led to the confusion. Indeed, it was a happy mistake. I rather like the idea of Lambert flowing through Dublin like the Liffey. Constructive criticism at its finest. (BS Johnson thought critics a waste of space unless they could suggest improvements.)  As for the dry mouth, there must have been something in the air that night, for Magnus Mills reached for his glass of water several times to pacify a mutinous throat.

An enjoyable and instructive evening for all concerned.