tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26797216218805906062024-03-05T08:10:09.364+00:00Huw LangridgeIndie author of science fiction and creepy stories, living in North WalesHuw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-128975364097481942023-06-21T12:14:00.002+01:002023-06-21T20:06:27.501+01:00Turning Fifty<p>I woke up early this morning on my 50th birthday. It was as bright outside as it would ever be at 5am due to it being the summer solstice, the longest period of daylight time. From here on, the nights get longer.</p><p>Sitting in bed with a cup of tea I started to think about some of the first stories I wrote, and a few memories came back to me.</p><p>The first thing I remember writing was in my penultimate year in primary school, so we're talking 1983-4. Successfully combining two major phobias of mine, it was called "Tarantursnake" and took up a whopping four pages of my English workbook. I remember getting a decent mark for it, but the only thing I could remember from the story itself was a man hanging on for dear life to a pole suspended over a pit of tarantursnakes. In fact, that may have been the whole thing. I'm not so sure it followed any conventional rules of narrative.</p><p>Later, in 1987, in high school, a collection of us smuggled copies of the newly published paperback of Stephen King's IT into lessons. All of us were at various points in the thousand-page book, and we would hold our copies open under our desks, reading while lessons progressed. Our love for horror riding high, my school friend Nick and I decided to collaborate on a story which I don't think ever got a title. We alternated writing the chapters, combining our handwritten A4 sheets into a single mammoth copy. We never finished it, but on reflection I think it was more heavily influenced by Salems Lot than Pennywise. Set in the town of Weston (near Knighton on the Welsh borders, a place neither Nick or I had ever been to, but found by sticking a pin in a map) it centred around the mysterious Duarte family, who lived in a remote house on a nearby hill. They wore dinner suits all the time, and would decend into the small town at night to kill the local residents. We never finished it. Maybe because of looming exams, but also I had a growing love for writing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MULTFp4LswM&list=PL-65QYoZldjtVJ3wN7rVGgXDi0lalHTcV" target="_blank">music</a> at the time.</p><p>However, the writing itch seemed to always need scratching and in 1998, using my trusty Atari 520ST and a dot-matrix printer, I wrote a short story collection called "The Cruise", with a front cover drawn by the very same Nick, and glued down one side to create a binding for the A4 sheets. I can't remember all of the stories but one of them featured a couple who snuck onto the upper deck to go for a night-time swim after the pool was closed, only to be devoured by a killer squid that had somehow found its way in there. Another story featured a down-at-heel professional clown who longed for applause, and created a computer program to power a pair of (real!) hands to clap for him whenever he performed a magic trick in his cabin. The Cruise found its way into the hands of a young Lucy Speed, who had been acting in a show in Wimbledon with my mother at the time, and, over a cast and crew dinner we went to at the local curry house, proceeded to rave about it to another young actress, Keeley Hawes. "Cruise II" followed. I wish I still had those pieces of writing, however amateurish they were.</p><p>I remember researching and writing Spireclaw on my daily commutes from Kingston upon Thames to Waterloo in 2003, making the most of the downtime that train journeys provided. The whole first draft was written with a stylus on a Sony Clie (basically like a Palm Pilot), often when there was standing room only and someone looking at the screen over my shoulder while I tapped frantically away, trying to keep up with my thoughts. The second piece I wrote on the Clie was Flyers (part of the collection on The Train Set) in 2005. The story was originally called The Fourdrinier Operator. I had managed to spill out 16,000 words in two weeks only to later fall foul of the document sync on my computer. Somehow I'd managed to sync a blank copy of the file over the one I had written on the Clie, and lost all of the work. I was so distraught that I was unable to begin writing it again for another six years. Ever since then I always save a new version of the file I'm working on with a new date every time, despite the wonders of Version History.</p><p>As for the future, I'm fully hoping that the sequel to The Tolworth Beacon will see the light of day before I'm 51. At least I know I won't lose any of it to the dreaded document sync!</p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-9228994546233950272022-12-13T18:42:00.001+00:002022-12-13T18:42:10.868+00:00My books are now in Prestatyn and Rhyl Libraries in North Wales<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAdxV5GPUWWImZoifpngKTaV6AkFUS5plON4NCkbpOo1h8GHHSeqUNiMJgAfPT5eDcJ6QsjMkYhJamiTP6l8qdKY79D0PK6kfGcS5GklYGrLApTwLAakfEfiyZ-ccCu21x_clj7LNHMEzko-9Kr2yWepshgTBm5HMHYW5ecuAK-M62Sa28rPbto3I/s957/Denbighshire%20Libraries%20Banner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="369" data-original-width="957" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAdxV5GPUWWImZoifpngKTaV6AkFUS5plON4NCkbpOo1h8GHHSeqUNiMJgAfPT5eDcJ6QsjMkYhJamiTP6l8qdKY79D0PK6kfGcS5GklYGrLApTwLAakfEfiyZ-ccCu21x_clj7LNHMEzko-9Kr2yWepshgTBm5HMHYW5ecuAK-M62Sa28rPbto3I/s320/Denbighshire%20Libraries%20Banner.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Four of my books are now available in Prestatyn and Rhyl Libraries. Being an indie author I wasn't sure that they would accept book donations as they might have had a computer system on which they may have needed to be discoverable. Either that wasn't a thing and my concerns were unfounded, or they were actually discoverable on said computer system. Anyway, they have taken copies for both libraries. If you happen to be in the area, the books they have available are:<br /><br />The Tolworth Beacon</p><p>The Axiom Few</p><p>The Sapling Method (set in Prestatyn!)</p><p>The Train Set</p><p>So basically, and this was definiitely not intentional, they have all my "The Something Something" books. Does this mean my titles are becoming as cliche'd as "A Something of Something" or even "The Girl Something Something"?</p><p>Maybe I need to find a new title format... Except I am writing a sequel to The Tolworth Beacon which is going to be titled "The Tolworth Something". (I do know what the full title is by the way).</p><p>Many thanks to Denbighshire Libraries!</p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-77348136783902216122022-10-30T15:54:00.001+00:002022-10-30T15:54:42.494+00:00The Path Behind the House - a two minute ghost story<p>So eager was I to get home to my wife and child, that I drove a little carelessly. It was Friday evening, and I was at the end of another long working week in the city. A weekend at home was exactly what I needed. When I was only a few roads away I rang Juliette. I was sitting in traffic waiting to join a roundabout and she told me she had lit the fire to make the house cosy for my return. She was bathing little Elliott and had allowed him to stay up late to see me. I was concerned when she hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Perhaps she had needed to urgently attend to our boy's regular antics of tipping water out of the bath.<br /><span> </span>I pulled up the gravel driveway and swung the car in front of the house, noticing that the front door was ajar and all the lights in the house were on. I got out and stepped across the threshold, calling out to Juliette. She didn't answer. From the kitchen a beautiful smell of cooking. The carpeted stairs were peppered with dark drips. The light from the bathroom illuminating the upper landing. I called up to Juliette, then Elliot. No answer.<br /><span> </span>They must have gone out into the rainy night. So I stepped back out through the door, looked around the gardens that flanked our driveway. I called out her name again.<br /><span> </span>Sirens, behind the house, and could I see flashing blue pulsing through the trees? Or had I imagined it?<br /><span> </span>I made my way along the walkway that led around the side of the house, to the end of our long garden where a neglected rusty gate led to an overgrown path which cut down the hill through the trees. I don't know why I thought they'd come this way, and it was my instinct above anything that encouraged me to continue.<br /><span> </span>Through the trees before me the sirens became louder. The flashing lights were real. I had never ventured down this path before but my wife obviously had because she knew where it led. She stood at the end of it, Elliott in her arms, wrapped in a towel. When I reached them I saw that the path came out near the roundabout.<br /><span> </span>I called her name but she didn't react. Instead she cried my name towards our car and ran forward through the rain, still carrying my boy. I looked at the crumpled cars and the body they were removing from the one with the crushed bonnet; the body of the man who was still, in death, holding a mobile phone.</p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-86194505098848047162022-04-27T13:01:00.000+01:002022-04-27T13:01:47.792+01:00THE SAPLING METHOD is now available in Paperback, on Kindle, or Kindle Unlimited<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAKD7OtupkNEQwUj0tXDYgsF7Gs96Zvul7U52LxPjrUL1WHMsq8ZjWDeHxlmlNFBKkUGvonzx6gBj9lYtRVM9tN_1tx1hgQSCAKXzwOV8uKqC147VMHJQEfsiQG-G3Psa5lg2sptTE_C1EbAX4aF_eiyOJjzZmdIB0sO1aNkgEEonQvIvAb2WqkcM/s1245/Cover%20Banner%20Out%20Now%20All%20Formats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="1245" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAKD7OtupkNEQwUj0tXDYgsF7Gs96Zvul7U52LxPjrUL1WHMsq8ZjWDeHxlmlNFBKkUGvonzx6gBj9lYtRVM9tN_1tx1hgQSCAKXzwOV8uKqC147VMHJQEfsiQG-G3Psa5lg2sptTE_C1EbAX4aF_eiyOJjzZmdIB0sO1aNkgEEonQvIvAb2WqkcM/w400-h188/Cover%20Banner%20Out%20Now%20All%20Formats.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>I'm delighted to announce that THE SAPLING METHOD is now available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited and in paperback.</p><p>Here's the video tralier for the book:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/64U01SwbqAI" width="320" youtube-src-id="64U01SwbqAI"></iframe></div><br />And here are the Amazon links:<p></p><p><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">UK: </span><a class="css-4rbku5 css-18t94o4 css-901oao css-16my406 r-1cvl2hr r-1loqt21 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/eACk750YGn" rel="noopener noreferrer" role="link" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank"><span aria-hidden="true" class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-poiln3 r-hiw28u r-qvk6io r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" style="border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 0px; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; white-space: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">https://</span></span><span style="color: #1d9bf0;">amzn.to/35FDiJ3</span></a><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e7e9ea; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
</span><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">US: </span><a class="css-4rbku5 css-18t94o4 css-901oao css-16my406 r-1cvl2hr r-1loqt21 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/5UjI4MespZ" rel="noopener noreferrer" role="link" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1d9bf0; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank"><span aria-hidden="true" class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-poiln3 r-hiw28u r-qvk6io r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" style="border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 0px; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; white-space: inherit;">https://</span>amzn.to/3IE2Zbu</a></p><p><br /></p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-77363076315849042402022-03-16T17:00:00.000+00:002022-03-16T17:00:24.787+00:00New novel THE SAPLING METHOD available to pre-order on Kindle<p>I'm thrilled to announce that my latest novel THE SAPLING METHOD is available for pre-order on Kindle. The digital version of the book will be released on 21st April 2022 and the paperback version will follow a couple of weeks later, date to be confirmed.</p><p>Here is the front cover marketing banner:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQstyg8prlW9fUF-J5N5EmJuDOkbWh0vPAXoeWnq2w8vmUGusLN411OvnJkn1yWJXXkaMyLMYzW2K57Qsobnf9C22crXpgpN0riMUYr3jH8Q1E5_JPQplg-O9BN3z_jPL2xozMq_6qFkflmbU_jWX650ProJnIT76yjKn9mJWWJAaD6iNkQUYV_59P=s1245" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="605" data-original-width="1245" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQstyg8prlW9fUF-J5N5EmJuDOkbWh0vPAXoeWnq2w8vmUGusLN411OvnJkn1yWJXXkaMyLMYzW2K57Qsobnf9C22crXpgpN0riMUYr3jH8Q1E5_JPQplg-O9BN3z_jPL2xozMq_6qFkflmbU_jWX650ProJnIT76yjKn9mJWWJAaD6iNkQUYV_59P=w400-h195" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>The novel tells the story of young James Lewis, who finds a way to make contact with his future self. But information is only meant to flow forwards, not backwards. When paradoxes appear, there are forces at work that that seek to redress the balance.</p><p>The story is set in the town where I live, Prestatyn in North Wales, predominantly on the forested hillside that backs onto the town. The book has taken the best part of a year to write, and I'm really excited to finally be sharing it with you.</p><p>If you want to get your copy please click on the links below:</p><p>UK: <a class="css-4rbku5 css-18t94o4 css-901oao css-16my406 r-1cvl2hr r-1loqt21 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/eACk750YGn" rel="noopener noreferrer" role="link" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1d9bf0; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">amzn.to/35FDiJ3</a></p><p>US: <a class="css-4rbku5 css-18t94o4 css-901oao css-16my406 r-1cvl2hr r-1loqt21 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-1ny4l3l r-1ddef8g r-tjvw6i r-qvutc0" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/5UjI4MespZ" rel="noopener noreferrer" role="link" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1d9bf0; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline-style: none; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-decoration-thickness: 1px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">amzn.to/3IE2Zbu</a></p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-61221970228028414312021-10-31T07:44:00.001+00:002021-10-31T16:42:50.498+00:00The Car Outside - A Ghost Story for HalloweenHarry felt a familiar tug on his heart whenever he saw the shape of a Triumph Herald. There was something about the way the rear quarter windows terminated in an acutely angled sloping point of glass that seemed to resonate within him indescribably. Besides, Harry felt no need to describe such a sensation because it did not encounter him all that often anymore. At least, that was the case until the first Thursday of January, when he finally acknowledged the faded burgundy Triumph that was parked at the end of his road, a few doors down from the house, since the morning of New Year’s Day. He had passed it six times on the way to the high street to fetch mother’s shopping.<div><br></div><div>Triumphs aren’t made anymore and Harry guessed that the car he could see from between the lace curtains that were drawn across the lounge bay windows was probably assembled towards the end of the cars’ twelve-year production lifespan, as it boasted the angular headlamp formation and horizontal grille slats that were not introduced until 1967.</div><div><br></div><div>To say that Harry was obsessed by the production history of the Triumph Herald would be an overstatement. It wasn’t fair to say that he was anything of a car enthusiast of any sort. His knowledge of automobiles was precisely confined to the Triumph on account of the fact that his older brother was killed in one some forty years ago. Different people grieve in different ways and Harry, who was ten at the time, chose to channel his into an interest with the vehicle, which, to his young eyes possessed an innocence that seemed to betray the very nature of the brutality of the accident.</div><div><br></div><div>He blinked away his momentary lapse into the past when he realised he could hear mother calling from her bed upstairs. Letting the curtain fall back to the vertical, Harry checked his watch. It was five after four in the afternoon, and mother always liked her cup of tea at four.</div><div><br></div><div>He called out ‘Tea’s nearly ready mother,’ before making his way to the kitchen, passing a pocket of warmth where the bar heater tried in vain to banish the chill from the house.</div><div><br></div><div>Somebody had been sitting in the car.</div><div><br></div><div>It was an aspect of the scene, framed by the window, that had somehow escaped him until now, and as he filled the kettle from the tap at the sink by the back window that looked out into a garden full of skeletal trees, he blinked quickly a few times, as through such a process would enable him to recreate the image of the old faded burgundy car in his head.</div><div><br></div><div>That someone had been sitting in the old Triumph Herald was not exactly much of a curiosity, but for the fact that now he thought about it, that person had been sitting in the car every time Harry had passed it, which had been several times over the last three days.</div><div><br></div><div>He placed the kettle on the sideboard and switched it on.</div><div><br></div><div>The occupant of the car had been a young man, sitting at the wheel. His face obscured by the reflection of the low winter sun that cut its way across the January sky to paint endlessly long shadows of trees, cars, people and houses onto the street.</div><div><br></div><div>Mother called out again but this time it wasn’t Harry’s name that slid weakly down the stairs, stripped of any tonal dynamism. It was Thomas, the name of her ex- husband, Harry’s father, who now lived in South America of all places. She didn’t remember things very well anymore. She had been suffering from Alzheimer’s for four years now, and had been bed-bound for four months, and sometimes she called her husband’s name instead. Occasionally she would call Harry a liar when he reminded her they were not together anymore. The symptoms of forgetfulness were to be expected, Harry thought. People grieve in different ways, and despite the debilitating disease that stole her powers of recognition, it may have been a truth she deliberately denied herself.</div><div><br></div><div>‘Just coming mother,’ Harry called back, as he dropped two spoonfuls of loose tea into the floral china pot that had been a part of the family for decades. In fact, Harry thought to himself; that teapot had been in the family for longer than his brother had. The very thought made the corners of his mouth turn down and caused a lump to develop in the depths of his throat.</div><div><br></div><div>A certain number of busy things need to fill one’s life in order for it to later become empty, Harry thought. He had always known this was true because everything exists in balance. To witness his mother’s once full life descend into a void and become a void itself was saddening. In a way the same was beginning to happen to him. With a bit of money put aside, he had quit his job at the Standard West Paper Company to look after his ailing mother. A single man throughout his life he often wondered how things would have been different if his brother had lived through the accident all those years ago. Would brotherly courage and buoyancy have created in Harry a more assertive character?</div><div><br></div><div>The kettle whistled now and he let it sit a moment before filling the pot. The hollow filling sound was as familiar to him as the sound of the engine of a Triumph Herald starting up. He found himself longing to hear that engine sound again, and wondered absently if he would be around when the owner of that car outside chose to put the key in the ignition and turn it.</div><div><br></div><div>After giving the tea a gentle stir and replacing the lid, Harry placed it onto a wooden tray. Also upon the tray he placed a small jug of milk, a strainer, a teaspoon and a china cup. Picking the tray up, he made his way through the house to the stairs.</div><div><br></div><div>As he passed the living room he paused, looking at the window in there, feeling that he would like to look out at that Triumph just one more time.</div><div><br></div><div>Instead, he went up the stairs.</div><div><br></div><div>'Mother there’s an old…’ he used his foot to push the bedroom door open wider so that he could fit through with the tray, ‘…an old Triumph Herald outside. It’s a little like the one he used to drive. Though I think his was a little older, and the colour is different. Mother?’</div><div><br></div><div>Mother lay still in her bed, her eyes staring blankly at the door as though she had been so eager to receive a tray of tea that she could force it to come quicker by sheer willpower alone. Harry dropped the tray when he realised what this meant. He barely registered the destruction of the old china pot as it hit the edge of the dresser and smashed into three or four large fragments. Tealeaves and brown water spilled onto the carpet, mixing with the toppled jug of milk to form a very unfortunate helping of tea indeed.</div><div><br></div><div>Mother was still and silent. He took her hand. It was warm. Her last breath had escaped from her lungs only moments ago and had he not been so slow and laboured about preparing her tea he would been here sooner. But, he thought, it was not the tea that held him up. It was the sight of the old Triumph sitting outside which had caused him to be late in its preparation. And as he looked at his mother, he realised deep down that her death was of course inevitable, and that bringing her tea on time would only have caused him to witness her sad passing first hand, not alter its inevitability.</div><div><br></div><div>Then a sound outside. The first sound he had heard in the last ten minutes, for no vehicles had driven along the quiet street outside in such a time. The sound was so very familiar, and expected, and timely.</div><div><br></div><div>Harry went to the window, his back to the room, and parted the lace curtains to look out to the street below. Though he could recognise the sound of the Triumph’s engine, the only other way to know it was coming from that car was the thin dark billowing smoke emanating from the fragile oscillating exhaust pipe.</div><div><br></div><div>Mother was standing on the pavement at the passenger side door. She was dressed in her gown, looking away in the direction of the high street.</div><div><br></div><div>Even though Harry could not clearly see, he was able to make out the young man inside the car as he reached over and opened the door for her. She eased it open wide, ducked her head slowly, smiled at the driver, and climbed in.</div><div><br></div><div>Once she was seated with the door closed, Harry watched as the driver put the car in gear, pulled out and accelerated smoothly away up the street.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-57960843716946536552021-10-30T14:37:00.001+01:002021-10-31T14:38:47.872+00:00Where to find me<p> I thought I'd post some links so you can find me in various places online:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRwfU96faCLPELDehvKG1m2gLkwdbpIxF-mPiNeYBOBhR6m6NNAvKN1j6CXczARo2sWjK0Izz7ETk6BbGMoXGd3OXPNPcCO5VQupO1JekCC2qlSbzkc-9fjcWMbzPGyRhPX_lw0LrbcE/s600/Links+Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRwfU96faCLPELDehvKG1m2gLkwdbpIxF-mPiNeYBOBhR6m6NNAvKN1j6CXczARo2sWjK0Izz7ETk6BbGMoXGd3OXPNPcCO5VQupO1JekCC2qlSbzkc-9fjcWMbzPGyRhPX_lw0LrbcE/s320/Links+Image.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><a href="https://twitter.com/huwlangridge" target="_blank">Twitter</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Huw-Langridge/e/B00ABJL29I/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="https://www.facebook.com/HuwLangridgeBooks" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a> | <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/HuwLangridge/videos" target="_blank">YouTube</a> | <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4721636.Huw_Langridge" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-65409511600184770802021-10-27T14:44:00.003+01:002021-10-31T14:48:55.668+00:00Strange Answering Machine Recording - London - Early 1970s<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabDoV0a9j8pDLVl5km47HbsHo8y0ywq1R-JxoEsiOr3CO99Iz_3YzoUp7axsvyoxfMnGE7VwIrTraxMNc05Dmab9MijyMAq5oEb6Sdmclm0HQLDED1-2wDCEKyR5Bw4oS8e5RRIuKtck/s2048/AnsweringMachineTapePic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1544" data-original-width="2048" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabDoV0a9j8pDLVl5km47HbsHo8y0ywq1R-JxoEsiOr3CO99Iz_3YzoUp7axsvyoxfMnGE7VwIrTraxMNc05Dmab9MijyMAq5oEb6Sdmclm0HQLDED1-2wDCEKyR5Bw4oS8e5RRIuKtck/s320/AnsweringMachineTapePic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I've been meaning to post this video for some time but only just got round to it. I warn you, it's a bit creepy. Well, it is Halloween soon. Dim the lights and put on some headphones...</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtOSZ5v99RY" target="_blank">Click here to watch the video.</a></p><p><br /></p>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-3704413205789539842021-07-01T17:33:00.002+01:002021-10-31T14:09:50.789+00:00Musical inspiration for The Tolworth BeaconFor those of you who have read The Tolworth Beacon, you may understand why I found real inspiration from this DJ mix of music by Gregory Esayan. The first few minutes of this mix really helped me get into the right headspace for the subject of the novel, but I would often have the whole thing playing while I was writing it.<div><br /></div><div>The link is <a href="https://youtu.be/En1tBA56ZQI">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qaxBLQKSnJohmQvXaEbN60uxjX2DAt8WTX5IHW-DAW-K8LEkayBUPNDKZWn3I0KxOZ13ziUgxDxUuO13fh1XO8wiTPv_6shCosHPxjxSKzhTZV6ssq_wd_DdVDE2g71NVZxhUOCZZ1M/s522/Gregory+Esayan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="458" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qaxBLQKSnJohmQvXaEbN60uxjX2DAt8WTX5IHW-DAW-K8LEkayBUPNDKZWn3I0KxOZ13ziUgxDxUuO13fh1XO8wiTPv_6shCosHPxjxSKzhTZV6ssq_wd_DdVDE2g71NVZxhUOCZZ1M/s320/Gregory+Esayan.jpg" width="281" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-5081384657564884692020-05-23T16:22:00.000+01:002020-05-23T16:22:21.720+01:00The Tolworth Beacon out now in paperback<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmszv9mty6Dv90k7kyPWMYWpHsALAcomoZ9NqDbS8FDPx8y9TS_0YTrH2GrXG_0SsILrodopG_tXtnb_ZYlhi2NoNLsbI_7QaWDNXx3by8j5JropgG5u7tdxBMdEUEWXQWiPaMzPadJIg/s1600/IMAG2161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmszv9mty6Dv90k7kyPWMYWpHsALAcomoZ9NqDbS8FDPx8y9TS_0YTrH2GrXG_0SsILrodopG_tXtnb_ZYlhi2NoNLsbI_7QaWDNXx3by8j5JropgG5u7tdxBMdEUEWXQWiPaMzPadJIg/s320/IMAG2161.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Well it's a seriously windy day here in Nortth Wales and I'm thrilled to announce that The Tolworth Beacon is now available on paperback to buy from Amazon. The first few copies were delivered to me today and you really cannot beat the wonderful sense of pride in holding this thing that you have created in your hands. I'm seriously proud of this novel. I think it brought out the best of my creativity and I'd be so chuffed if you indulged yourself and picked it up. Don't forget to write a review on Amazon if you do!<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B088VX7PB7/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o00_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1" target="_blank">https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B088VX7PB7/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o00_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1</a>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-74464506316952914102020-04-13T20:12:00.001+01:002020-04-17T20:53:44.019+01:00Pre-order my new book on Kindle from Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZhHdMk9EHiGrq5Op4bmiktL6E6ohjWcELcMznwJx5iu8P8brhPnPsFNArfOI1-tp52wJEuiiXjucOpXO37xUy7nVqcs-czFd9bSuKAkvA4iIPl_qom-FiZAoGPNoVSH13gW9Ql6az3Y/s1600/Cover+JPEG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZhHdMk9EHiGrq5Op4bmiktL6E6ohjWcELcMznwJx5iu8P8brhPnPsFNArfOI1-tp52wJEuiiXjucOpXO37xUy7nVqcs-czFd9bSuKAkvA4iIPl_qom-FiZAoGPNoVSH13gW9Ql6az3Y/s320/Cover+JPEG.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I hope everyone is maintaining their sanity during the lockdown. These are incredible times aren't they?<br />
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I've been spending my time at home finalising my book. On Friday my new novel The Tolworth Beacon will be going live for <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tolworth-Beacon-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B0876GKRFN/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=the+tolworth+beacon&qid=1587152203&s=digital-text&sr=1-1" target="_blank">pre-order on Kindle.</a></div>
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I'm really excited about this story. I've put my total heart and soul into making it the best it can be, and I hope you enjoy it.</div>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-959135057013688432020-01-27T12:00:00.002+00:002021-10-31T14:13:31.896+00:00Writing a Novel in a Month for Charity<div>I have been preparing to write a new novel recently and I'm now ready to take on the challenge of getting the first draft written in a month!</div><div><br /></div><div>Cancer has affected a lot of lovely people around me over the years but particularly recently amongst work colleagues and friends. It's devastating how it affects lives and I wanted to combine fundraising for Cancer Research with a challenge which I thought would be unique, but also tie in with something I think is achievable for me. I hope you can come along on my journey to complete a 30,000-word first draft in the month of February. I do get a bit of extra time as it's a leap year, with the month starting and ending on a Saturday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Along the way I'll be posting updates about my progress, taking about what is inspiring me each day, as well as trying to get to grips with Instagram (username huwlangridge) to give short video updates too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway here's my JustGiving page.</div><div><br /></div><div>https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/huwlangridge<br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXKQS0wcPqRqI_4v-mnZ6z0lUu-Q9MM1SNguUX36z5tZWQj47p4Gn432rkQIgR_B46uxdHtvxgWmPUAC18Fkc7j3Kfomm27jPCzqHnyTSN6qZl6vBoaRimNf7UvAZC5BkbzvQaGOxABY/s273/JustGiving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="273" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXKQS0wcPqRqI_4v-mnZ6z0lUu-Q9MM1SNguUX36z5tZWQj47p4Gn432rkQIgR_B46uxdHtvxgWmPUAC18Fkc7j3Kfomm27jPCzqHnyTSN6qZl6vBoaRimNf7UvAZC5BkbzvQaGOxABY/s0/JustGiving.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-74758615051190380882018-01-10T10:03:00.001+00:002018-01-10T10:03:33.073+00:00The Axiom Few at Tapas<p dir="ltr">My short story collection The Axiom Few is currently one of the staff picks over at Tapas. Please head on over and subscribe to read new episodes.</p>
<p dir="ltr">https://tapas.io/series/<u>TheAxiomFew</u></p>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-48103061448305033542016-09-25T16:36:00.001+01:002016-09-28T22:30:44.154+01:00All in good time<p dir="ltr">The art of plot procrastination is something you have to master when you're writing. You can't burn through your plot too quickly, so how do you overcome the desire to throw in each staggering revelation in your story just to get them onto the page?</p>
<p dir="ltr">It's sometimes frustrating when it's done badly. The protagonist finally locates the one person who has the answer to all the questions, and when the critical question is asked of the character, the response is often, "I will tell you everything you need to know, all in good time, but first, you must be hungry!"</p>
<p dir="ltr">This sort of thing usually ends up with the character with all the information getting murdered before he can answer said question.</p>
<p dir="ltr">How did I get round it when I was writing Spireclaw? Well, without wanting to spoil the plot and revelations in that story (Spireclaw thrives on its twists and turns and blind alleys), there were a couple of techniques which I employed.  Use several angles at once. Keep several balls in the air so that the reader is never quite sure which one is going to drop. Is the twist going to be around This or That? Bring your revelations in from a perspective and angle that is unexpected. It enables you to build new perspectives on the issue at hand without having to play your trump card so quickly. I realise these are abstract concepts, but if you want to know what I mean, go and read Spireclaw on this very website, or get it from Amazon on your Kindle. Then come back and read this blog post again.</p>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-6392530995282603472016-09-23T12:32:00.000+01:002016-09-23T12:32:06.397+01:00Sound of my summer<div dir="ltr">
This is what was playing repeatedly in my ears while stretched out on a sunbed by the pool this summer. A blissful trance track to listen to while staring up at a pure blue sky through swaying palm trees. Very inspiring.</div>
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Oh, and did I happen to mention that my book "Schaefers Integrity" is free on the <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Schaefers-Integrity-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B009NG7TDS" target="_blank">Kindle this weekend?</a></div>
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Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-24539704562049749992016-09-22T20:51:00.001+01:002016-09-22T20:51:47.482+01:00The new stuff or the old stuff?<div dir="ltr">
On a Nerdist podcast I was listening to recently (I can't remember who was being interviewed, it might have been the awesome Michael Ironside), Chris Hardwick asked the question, sorry to paraphrase, " Do you keep looking out for new stuff to fill your head with, our do you keep going back to the old stuff you love, to reinforce those things in your mind?"</div>
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What a great question! Something I've considered several times since. When my better half asks me why I buy new music when I have so much music already (my HTC 1 M8 has a 128Gb MicroSD card full of pinned music from my Google Play repository), I struggle to answer.</div>
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But I suppose the real reason is that you can only discover a piece of music for the first time once. I have favourite albums from every year and every decade. And when I bought them I would listen to them on hard rotation for as long as a month, unable to bring myself to swap out the CD and listen to anything else because it would be some kind of betrayal. While I still love those albums, I'd never go back and listen to them again in the same way. But maybe I should. Why quest for new bands, new artists, new music, when all those amazing records still sit there waiting to be listened to again. There are some songs that are so beautiful that I could listen to them on repeat forever.</div>
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My favourite science fiction books, like the Isaac Asimov Foundation Series, Stephen King's The Dark Tower or the Arthur C Clarke Rama books, cannot be discovered again for the first time. I doubt I could feel the same sense of wonder again by reading them a second time. But then what about all the details I've forgotten? Surely that merits another dive into those worlds?</div>
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Part of it comes with age. You've exposed yourself to so many things, so much music, so many films and books, that suddenly it feels right to honour those things you loved from your younger years, because didn't they serve to form you into the person that you came to be?</div>
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Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-12820858723825197972015-11-03T22:45:00.001+00:002015-11-03T22:48:07.990+00:00Bonfire Night Freebies<p dir="ltr">Four of my books will be available for free this Thursday (5th November) for a one day only, get 'em while you can deal on Amazon Kindle.</p>
<p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Schaefers-Integrity-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B009NG7TDS/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1446590451&sr=8-5&keywords=Huw+langridge">Schaefer's Integrity</a><br>
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Comet-Ideas-Looking-Planet-ebook-x/dp/B00DOC30QC/ref=la_B00ABJL29I_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1446590840&sr=1-5">A Comet of Ideas Looking for a Planet</a><br>
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Axiom-Few-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B009NCOMP0/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">The Axiom Few</a><br>
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Train-Set-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B009URQS00/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">The Train Set</a></p>
<p dir="ltr">I hope you take this opportunity to pick up one of these books and get lost in a world I created.</p>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-17786894318017492212015-01-19T22:05:00.001+00:002015-01-21T20:41:35.566+00:00The Origins of BRENDA<p dir="ltr">My follow up to "The Axiom Few" is coming along nicely and I sincerely hope to get it out the door before the summer. By the way, "The Axiom Few" is free on the Kindle from the 21st to 23rd January. Click <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Axiom-Few-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B009NCOMP0/ref=pd_sim_kinc_4?ie=UTF8&refRID=191PXN0C7W4RGRB3S0R2">here</a> to get it.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The sequel collection, "The Axiom Tapestry" will contain eight more stories, one of which, "The Pytance Initiative" will contain part of the origin story of the BRENDA device that is so prominent in the first book.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Here is an extract from "The Pytance Initiative"...</p>
<p dir="ltr">The quantum strip hung in the centre of a clear, spherical bosonic chamber which could be seen from the upper gantry where Vernal Campion now stood, tablet in hand, scanning the system event logs for errors. With two hours to go, thankfully there were none. If any appeared now, he may have to be the one to tell Derek. And the Prime Minister had already departed London on her way to the Stratabyre. Trying to halt this rolling snowball would be a messy business.</p>
<p dir="ltr">He stepped out of the inner glass door, which slid closed softly behind him, and traversed the elevated walkway towards the rear of the Stratabyre. Below him a system of cable troughs crisscrossed the cave, disappearing into sections of rock wall towards coolant lakes and hidden banks of processor arrays housed deep within the perpetually cold, ancient stone. Above him, dim lamps barely lit the space, due to the lumo-sensitivity of the biological meshes that hung vertically from specially designed dermabrackets. He could hear the sound of soft unseen fans working to keep the cave drier than nature would intend, while leaving the environment moist enough for the bio-meshes to retain their elasticity. The combination of sounds felt to Vernal as though the whole cave was humming with anticipation.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Something about the majesty of the space, where high technology fused with millions of years of geology made technicians speak in low voices when they were out in the main area, away from the control room. Or was it just that the Stratabyre had the capacity to carry echoing voices and resound them into an unintelligible susurration. All he could hear were whispers now. A quiet church.</p>
<p dir="ltr">And despite being nothing more than a biologically enhanced machine, straddling the inside of the cave like a confined spider, the Brenda device had no front or back, no face or physical interface, and had not even been fully connected up, yet Vernal Campion was convinced she (no, not she... IT) was looking right at him.</p>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-12968905039928765822014-10-20T20:43:00.001+01:002014-10-20T20:45:02.241+01:00What does God look like?<p dir="ltr">My five year old son asked me what God looks like yesterday. I immediately started thinking about the way I asked myself that question while I was writing Schaefer's Integrity about ten years ago. But I replied, "Well, what do you think God looks like?" He said he didn't know, but could we look him up on the iPad. So we Googled God. And sure enough, on the internet you get a lot of pictures of a bearded old white fella parting the clouds. I explained that nobody had ever seen God and these were just people guessing. Then I suggested maybe my son would like to draw his own idea of what God looks like. So he did. What does it tell you that he drew a man dressed in black with a red face and... are they horns...?</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8ZcjbCsMd_icwEBd-WDWzUpCSSDOJzuwuxIRZWAdpB-6ZZoQUbRJ346NS09s8_U7NXKLNflgtsWYSgwSXsqUDRF9ylhnwT3ZsGjD7udpy-Ssipk5X5rLOYLQXs3NEUcqNoRlOjYpYmw/s1600/IMAG0616_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8ZcjbCsMd_icwEBd-WDWzUpCSSDOJzuwuxIRZWAdpB-6ZZoQUbRJ346NS09s8_U7NXKLNflgtsWYSgwSXsqUDRF9ylhnwT3ZsGjD7udpy-Ssipk5X5rLOYLQXs3NEUcqNoRlOjYpYmw/s640/IMAG0616_1.jpg"> </a> </div>Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-40025731566034651402014-07-13T20:12:00.001+01:002014-07-13T20:12:12.660+01:00Winner - Best Large Service Desk Award Of The Year 2014 - CoSocius (Forrest Screendump)About a year ago on this blog I presented a spoof video I had written and directed for our company called "Service Desk in Black", which, as the name would suggest, was a riff on Men in Black. This year, the company's submission (again written and directed by yours truly, although not without some stellar input from many others) was a spin on Forrest Gump. Not only did the video win (unofficially) best video at the Service Desk Institute awards, but our company CoSocius won the overall award for Best Large Service Desk. Well done to all involved. And here is "Forrest Screendump"...<br />
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<br />Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-13006842807827524292014-06-19T12:31:00.001+01:002014-07-11T13:03:13.040+01:00"The Axiom Few" moves on<p dir="ltr">I'm going to use the word "tapestry" here because I can see no other way of describing the route my new set of Axiom Few short stories seems to be taking. BRENDA's origin story is well underway and I'm really excited. The stories are becoming a tapestry and that may well influence the title of the story collection when it comes out. It won't all be about new characters though. At the end of The Autumn Structure our friend Geek was trapped on an alien vessel and I have to get him off there!</p>
<p dir="ltr">All this will come in time. I'm having a lot of fun with it at the moment. In the meantime, why not head over to <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Axiom-Few-Huw-Langridge-ebook/dp/B009NCOMP0/ref=la_B00ABJL29I_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1403173513&sr=1-2">Amazon </a>and get the book that started it all...</p>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-55344106999504546232013-10-21T21:59:00.001+01:002013-10-21T21:59:38.439+01:00The ThingsThe other night I treated myself to a Blu-Ray double bill of "John Carpenter's The Thing" (1982) and "The Thing" (2011), though, of course, the correct order to see them in, given that the latter is the prequel, is the other way round.<br />
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A lot has been said against the 2011 film, that it is a pale imitation of John Carpenter's classic horror, but I think it is a great piece of work, and it stands well against the older film, and it is a real joy to see them back to back, to learn what happened to the fated Norwegians before that helicopter came buzzing over the Antarctic ice shelf chasing that dog. And the two films, despite being made nearly 30 years apart, gel beautifully together.<br />
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What is especially fun is seeing how well Matthijs van Heijningen, Jr has recreated the living scenes from the ghosts or aftermaths of the scenes in the 1982 film, in his 2011 prequel. It's great to see the continuity of the helicopter, the dog, but also the ice-block and the room it is stored in, the axe in the wall, and the dead man in the chair. The attention to detail is exemplary, and it shows a real reverence for the older film, which, as Matthijs van Heijningen, Jr rightly said, could not be improved upon, so why even attempt to remake it.</div>
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If you're a fan of John Carpenter's classic film, I highly recommend a late night double bill.</div>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-88541541910035821362013-09-25T20:07:00.001+01:002013-09-25T20:07:50.207+01:00The Crowdfunding ThingCrowdfunding is not something I'd given any thought to when it came to putting a piece of fiction out to the world. I'd always gone down the Lulu and Amazon KDP route, which for me seems to be working very well and gains more traction with every passing month. So when a work colleague, Ian Stove, mentioned to me today that he was using Kickstarter to put the finishing touches on his children's book it certainly made me think more seriously about it.<br />
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I've backed Ian's book and you can do it too by going <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ianstove/the-mystery-of-liberty-island" target="_blank">here</a>, and I'll be keen to hear from Ian how he gets on with his project, and I hope it gains the funding level it needs to go forward. The book certainly looks like a lot of fun, and although it initially looks like it might be an older read than my four year old will be able to understand (though I may be wrong about that), I'm sure I will enjoy reading it nonetheless. It's always great to read stuff by people you know.<br />
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Ian also has a book on Kindle, A Year Without Beer, which you can find <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-Year-without-Beer-ebook/dp/B00C114C6E" target="_blank">here</a> and gets a respectable 4.5 stars.Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-22272388489886198522013-07-11T09:48:00.001+01:002013-07-11T09:48:58.572+01:00Free till Sunday - A Comet of Ideas...<p>My brand spanking new short story collection A Comet of Ideas Looking for a Planet is free on Kindle until Sunday 14th July.</p>
<p>This collection covers fifteen years of writing, of stories that weren't part of the Axiom Few canon, or novels, obviously. In a later post I will write more about the stories behind the stories, but for now I hope you enjoy reading it.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00DOC30QC?ie=UTF8&force-full-site=1&ref_=aw_bottom_links">Click here to get the book</a></p>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2679721621880590606.post-2577131991328959942013-07-03T21:05:00.001+01:002013-07-03T21:05:44.015+01:00Schaefer's Integrity - free till Sunday 7th July<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I hope you enjoy it. Get it between now and Sunday and it will cost you nothing. You can get it from <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Schaefers-Integrity-ebook/dp/B009NG7TDS/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_t_1_MAPC">here.</a></div>
Huw Langridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16925144265072692727noreply@blogger.com1