I fail at Newsletters. I fail so epically that it is almost visible from orbit. I have been planning newsletters for years. There is still no newsletter. I have a few draught newsletters on my laptop that have never been sent out. I’ve plans for Mrs Tuesday’s household hints with lists and copies of ancient housekeeping manuals that are currently going nowhere. The biggest obstacle is that legally I need to include a physical address in my newsletter and it can’t be a post box.

If anyone pays the slightest attention to me, they almost certainly can find me. I have a habit of wearing my heart on my sleeve and saying what’s going through my mind at the time. This has got me into so much trouble at times, but it means that you can pick up all sorts of details about me. However I don’t quite feel comfortable putting my home address down, and while you can pay to have a physical address somewhere, it’s a little more money than I want to spend, at least until I earn a little more from my writing.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and when I found out about Substack, it seemed like the answer. Anyone who wishes can set up a Substack account for free. There are paid for subscriptions, but I’m not going there. I may later, I’m not ruling it out, but I’m not currently comfortable with it. If you subscribe to me on there Lyssa Medana’s Writing (it is such an unoriginal title but I couldn’t think of anything else at the time) then whenever I post something on there, you will get an email letting you know. It’s like a newsletter, but not a newsletter and I’ll take it.

There are two main downsides to this. The first is that there will probably be something like a chatty bit like this most weeks, or maybe two or three times a month and it may feel like spam. The other main downside is that apparently you can do podcasts through there, I am very good at talking indeed. I’m not very good at shutting up, however, and I lose the thread a lot. My train of thought often leaves the station without me. Me having access to the chance to talk without interruption is not necessarily a good thing. By the way, it looks like there are a lot of interesting writers and accounts on there to browse.

There are some instalments of Invitation Accepted on there at the moment, but they are likely to go. I may well be sharing the fiction I post freely on here on other sites but I’m working that out. As I went to link to my account on Substack, I realised that there were still references to books published by Three Furies Press which no longer exist. And that made me realise that I have a lot of places where I need to go and edit. I’m still finding it a little hard.

I was looking on Unsplash for pics to represent the notes I’m currently taking, then remembered the pic above. I was trying to sort out the blog and found over 170 stories on here. Around eight, I think, made it to Whisper in the Shadows (I added some new stuff, of course). As I work out what I’m going to do now and what direction I’m going, the stories will be a little reduced and there may be other stuff going on. I’ll share when I work it out myself.

As I have mentioned a few times over the last month or so, Dark Picture, Under Dark Hills, and all the stories that aren’t really speculative fiction, such as those found under At the Fireside will be taken down on April 30th. Dark Picture and Under Dark Hills will eventually find their way into ebooks, but I don’t know when that will happen.

There are likely to be a few posts like this over the next few months as I work out what I’m doing, make mistakes, try and correct them and generally dither. I hope that you can bear with me, and I would love to hear from you. What do you like? What gets on your nerves? What do you want to know?

I hope to hear from you. Thank you for reading.

I am easily distracted, and far too easily bored. I found myself wondering how someone who found the blog for the first time would see it, and whether they would find the fiction easily or whether they would get bogged down by all the notes and articles.

That is why I spent most of this weekend going through the fiction and poetry on here. I found 170 separate pieces, which is a lot more than I expected. Most of those pieces have been collected together and you can find them on the menu above, on the right, under ‘Collected Fiction’. There is a drop down menu and you can find collections of poetry and fiction. Please feel free to have a rummage and see if you find any old favourites. I’ve also left them in place in the blog for anyone scrolling through.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be doing some blog housekeeping. I’ll delete any duplicate posts, junk any stuff that I think is below standard and I am going to force myself to go through and properly tag all the posts. I’ll do a little editing, tidy up punctuation and hopefully find a way of formatting that means that all the posts have the same line spacing.

I’m also considering removing some stories and perhaps placing them in an ebook. So many stories are lost in the crowd here, and I think thinning out some of the posts will make it easier to read. If I do put them in an ebook, though, I promise that I’ll add plenty of new material as well.

By the way, the pic above shows some of the notes I was making.

I’d love to hear any opinions you have on this, so please leave a comment if you have any thoughts.

It’s World Meteorological Day and I found this quote:

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it’s right too often for use to ignore it and wrong to often for us to rely on it

Patrick Young

I’ve been thinking of the myths and stories about gods recently and it’s led me to all sorts of snippets. For example, did you know that there is evidence for a thunder god in the reconstructed Indo European language of four thousand years ago? There is a whole section on weather gods from prehistory here in Wikipedia.

I don’t believe in weather gods and thunder gods, but I can see the appeal. When you’re counting on the harvest to keep you alive as the first farmers did, being able to appeal to a deity that might help must be a comfort, even if they are capricious. And, despite knowing the science, a thunderstorm feels supernatural. If you are in the middle of a loud one, when you can barely hear yourself for the thunder and the rain and hail is battering the windows, it doesn’t help to think about electrons and convection movements. It feels like something primeval. I’m not surprised that there is evidence of huge sacrifices of horses and cattle to appease the destructive force.

And I am fascinated that stories and myths can be traced back all those thousands of years to a people whose language we can’t fully know but which developed into so many different tongues as far apart as English and Bengali. That the stories that they told are still echoing around and finding their way out. Thor, who is definitely a thunder god, is still having his stories told in cinemas around the world.

In the flash fiction that I posted on Monday, here, I wrote about a retired thunder god. I can imagine that a retired weather deity wouldn’t be a comfortable neighbour, but I bet he wouldn’t be boring.

It’s that time of year. People are dusting off their Christmas traditions and huddling inside away from the cold, dark days. In Iceland, there is a tradition of Jolabokaflod where people give each other gifts of books on Christmas Eve and then settle down to read them straight away. The more I hear about Iceland, the better it sounds.

Mind you, knowing how people are, those books may be read with different degrees of enthusiasm. I honestly think that there will be lots of happy people curled up with their favourite author, or a favourite genre, or even a completely new type of book that is perfect for opening up new ideas and thoughts in a wonderful and well-received way. I also suspect that there will be people muttering in corners, ‘My mother-in-law got me a book on Swedish Death Cleaning and I know exactly what she means by that!’

We don’t have that tradition in our family, mainly because my lovely husband has mostly audio books and I read a lot of books on a reading app, so we don’t usually buy physical books. Son reads in fits and starts and I just let him get on with it. Besides, he’s old enough to raid our bookshelves now when he feels like it. I also don’t want to force reading on him because he is overloaded with schoolwork and I would feel guilty trying to make him do anything more.

Speaking of schoolwork, son has been blessed by some amazing texts for his school syllabus, and one of them is A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. We don’t have many Christmas traditions, but one of them is watching A Muppet Christmas Carol every year. We snuggle in, have the room nice and toasty with a scented candle, pile up snacks and drinks and enjoy. It’s years since I read the original, but I dipped in again the other night. I was pleasantly surprised by how much of the original work made it into the Muppet version. I have watched dozens of versions over the years, but I think that the Muppets get it the closest. Drop a comment if you agree or disagree. I’d love to hear what you think.

One thing that struck me was the original story, written in nineteenth century London, doesn’t have much to do with religion. It refers to Christianity, but that was natural for a nominally Christian writer in a nominally Christian country. However, it doesn’t really bother with theology. It talks about people, and a reminder that people are important. That it is worth cherishing the bonds of love and friendship. That it is a human duty to look out for others who cannot look out for themselves.

The language of the original is dated. Some of the expressions are unfamiliar to a modern reader. It’s a cracking story, though, and the dozens of films inspired by it (some a lot better than others) take up the sentiment. It seems that there is a deeply ingrained impulse to have a celebration at the darkest time of the year and to remember those who need a little help. I have watched A Muppet Christmas Carol so many times I can practically repeat the dialogue along with the film. I’m still looking forward to it though. It’s not a bad Christmas tradition.

This is the response from Katy van Cuylenburg to this week’s prompts, which is also in the comments.

Oh wow, that sunrise is…is. I always enjoy a sunrise.It’s so beautiful. Now I have to deal with my sister. I don’t want to do this ever. She killed somebody. She just went out there and killed somebody…a guy. Sliced him to death. She said it was self defense. I believe her. I believe she was left to her own defenses…and her own weapons.

So I’m pulling up in front of the cottage to see her. We have always enjoyed being by the ocean. The rhythm of the tide and waves has always been our zen.

Dinner is on! The bbq is working. Loving this beach house. Okay Sis, tell me…
What gotcha there…How hard did he hurt you? Glad she didn’t go to jail.

This is a great space. Fine house. Beach, tide, sand. I’m happy being here. Glad to have this space. How wonderful she puts on the music.

And then the uniformed contingent arrived. Okay. I can listen. It’s time for alternative situations. Good grief, my sister has always been convinced quicker than me.

I say No! Nee! Nien! Nyet! She yells at me. I don’t care. I feel the need to be me.

I do not run. I do not hide. I leave. I

I love the madness of this!

Mr Suave

Here is Marianne Gustavson Madson’s response to the writing prompt. Due to similar technical difficulties to Katy, I’ve posted it onto my blog so it can be shared, and I think it is amazing, and I want to know what happens next.

It was the summer of 1974 when Mr. Suave strolled into the popular Hollywood Restaurant’s bar where I sat at a darkened corner table. My head had been bent over my journal as my hand scribbled but the paper suddenly wafted as if struck by a breeze.

My eyes lifted to the sight of a very attractive man whom I immediately named ‘Mr. Suave’. He leaned causally against a bar stool and faced the bartender as if they knew each other.

“Welcome back, the usual?” The bartender said with a smile as he reached where the expensive liquor was stored.

Mr. Suave nodded yes as he gracefully eased onto a bar stool.

My eyes secretly admired Mr. Suave in his expensive black suit which he wore comfortably as if he were in an old shirt and jeans. His body looked agile and lean and he was tall and graceful yet very masculine, I thought as I drank him in.

As if he felt my gaze upon him, he casually looked over his shoulder … at me. His dark chocolate bangs hid one eye while the other checked me out. I blushed from being caught and half lowered my eyes so I could still see him through my lashes. He gave me a lazy smile as he shook his glass in greeting.

I didn’t answer but instead bit my lip as my pen hovered and then froze midair when I saw the chair across from me move.

“Mind if I join you?”

I looked up into a handsome face that made my eyes fully dilate, he looked like a young Cary Grant.

“What are you writing?” He didn’t wait for my answer as he went ahead and sat across from me.

“Just stuff, thoughts.” I said as my eyes met his. “Let me see,” his right hand reached for my journal but stopped …when I said.

“You have pianist hands.

” He looked at me and then at his hands. “I am a pianist, a composer.”

“I knew it, may I?” I asked to hold his hands. He let them rest in my mine as I studied his. I explained with envy in my voice, “you have the right length, that extra tip to play Chopin.”

He laughed, “I can and do, and I know what you mean.”

“What did I say that made you laugh?” “It wasn’t what you said, it’s like the saying, don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“So you’re saying I look like a dull book?”

“No, yes, I mean, it’s Hollywood and you look normal to be sitting in a bar.”

“I’m sitting in a dark corner,” I said as if that held weight.

He gave me a long look as he held his glass in front of his lips, he suddenly took a sip and then said. “I want you to hear a piece I’m writing, come back to my place with me.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “I don’t know, I’ve heard tortuous killers can also be good-looking.”

“Harve, please assure the lady she’ll be safe with me.” Mr. Suave called out to the bartender without turning around.

“He’s good,” Harve assured with two thumbs up

There were some technical difficulties with Katy’s response, so I’m posting it here, but I can’t claim credit. This awesome story is from Katy van Cuylenburg

You sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve – JK Rowling

I knew this day would come. I didn’t sleep all night. Awake mostly for the celebrations, dancing, embracing. Including the trepidation of what was to come, the journey.

I must have dozed off. ‘Wake up! Get up!’ yells my Mom shaking me. ‘You’ll be late’. My Mom is a stickler for the rules, old fashioned some would say. She’s okay, she keeps me in line…and goodness knows I need to be kept in line sometimes.

I’m up, dressed, and psyching myself up for the journey. I’m looking forward to the ceremony. I get to see Sadepisara. She’s also making the journey. She’s really cute. I hope I end up in her group. My friend Rankkasade is coming too.

‘How late can you be??’ ‘Stop daydreaming and get you brother ready, your father is waiting for us’. Snapped out of my daydreams, I get my brother into the tram and we head off for the Village Square. The bells are just beginning to ring.

I can hear the roaring coming from the square. The bells are ringing. Have to admit, I’m starting to feel special. I worked hard for this and was chosen. It just seems a bit overwhelming. I don’t like I have to leave, but I’m happy a couple of friends are going with me…and Sadepisara. I’m hoping she notices me.

‘Hey Lumi!’ ‘Over here’ yells Rankkasade. He’s standing with a few I don’t know. I think I recognize two of them. I’m busy looking for Sadepisara.

‘ATTENTION ATTENDEES, ATTENTION’ comes from the podium. A lull falls over the square. The bells ring out the anthem and then also fall silent.

‘Time to form your groups for the journey’ ‘This is special. You are special. Please make sure you report to your group by 1200’

The drums start beating!! The lights flash, flash, jagged lines, and then more drums. They are harder now. I’m looking for my family to wave at them. We are in our groups. ‘Lumi! Lumi! Over here Lumi!’ It’s my Dad. I wave. I think he saw me.

I’m scared. I don’t know what’s at the end of the journey. The lights are bigger now. The drums louder. It’s almost time. A few groups have already gone. We were kept back. We are the biggest, strongest. We are ready! I am ready! Jump!!!!

Here we go….I am the downpour in your Thunderstorm! I am the strongest raindrop you will ever know.

But my future is undecided in what puddle or place I arrive.

A guest post by AF Stewart, author of the compelling Saga of the Outer Islands series

Bottles of Rum and Drunken Sailors

Now, what seafaring story would be complete without the rum?

Certainly not my Saga of the Outer Islands series.

Rum, or alcohol in general, and sailors (or pirates) is fairly synonymous, as is the scenario of sailors having a bit of a tipple on shore leave. The tradition arose with the old sailing ships keeping men at sea for months at a time, and alcohol becoming a ship ration to ease the trip. However, early stores of liquor for the lowly sailor were wine and beer, (that often went bad) not rum. It was about 1650 that rum become the drink ration of choice, due in part to economics, a surplus of rum, and the durability of the liquor to not go off. The rest is history and good movie lines.

Which leads me back to my book series. Of course, as a seafaring fantasy, the crew of the Celestial Jewel and her Captain like a good drink from time to time. And my books, Ghosts of the Sea Moon and Souls of the Dark Sea, do have plenty of flowing booze, with not only rum but port and other wine, cordial, beer and ale. Even the traditional grog. So here’s a little insight into some of the characters and their favourite drinks.

Captain Rafe Morrow: He can most often be seen with either a glass of wine in his hand or a glass of rum. As a god, alcohol doesn’t affect him significantly, so he drinks quite regularly.

Elliot Blackthorne:  His tastes are a bit more refined with his preferred alcoholic beverage being a good wine or port, though he will take rum with his Captain when asked, or indulge in an ale with the crew at the local tavern. Rum and other spirits tend to go to his head quickly though, so he generally does not imbibe much.

One-Eyed Anders: He likes his ale (and boasts he can drink any man save his captain under the table) or a good glass of rum.

Pinky Jasper: The preferred drink is grog, though he won’t refuse an ale at the tavern.

Lord Merrill: More of a social drinker, he drinks almost exclusively wine, port, or cordial, but has been known to sip whiskey or rum on occasion.

Now for a couple of drink extras.

What is Cordial?

By definition, cordial is a sweet fruit or floral flavoured syrup, but can also refer to a low-alcoholic liqueur or other alcoholic beverage that uses cordial syrup. In my book, a cordial refers to a fruity liqueur.

Here’s a site with a recipe for a berry cordial made with vodka: Berry Cordial

And one for a cordial syrup: How to Make Cordial

What is Grog?

Grog began as a way of keeping sailors from over inebriating from the highly intoxicating rum and for spreading out rations by simply watering down rum. As one might expect, sailors were not happy with this, so later they were allowed to add lime juice, spices and sugar to make it more palatable.

Here’s a good basic grog recipe:

2 OZ DARK RUM

0.75 OZ LIME JUICE

0.5 OZ DEMERARA SYRUP

1 OZ WATER

Add all ingredients to a mug with ice and stir to combine.

And another one:

2 ounces dark rum

1/2 ounce fresh lime juice

1 teaspoon brown sugar

4 ounces hot water

Slice of orange and a cinnamon stick

Mix the rum, lime juice, brown sugar, and hot water in a mug. Garnish with an orange slice and a cinnamon stick.

I hope you enjoyed a little insight into my sailors and rum. Please come join me on the high seas.

Set sail on a new adventure with gods, ghosts and sea monsters. You can find ‘Souls of the Dark Sea in all amazing book shops including Amazon, and it is currently at an offer price of 99p.  Check out the YouTube here and for further wonderful tidbits, check out AF Stewart’s website here