Topher Lydon

I wanted to honour the readers who asked for me to introduce Wil, and given that we did discuss this that night, I felt I could use it to frame the incident, and the one to follow. I might use this lens again, it's not something I have tried before and it seems to work nicely to allow context depth.

There is a photo I saw in a Restaurant in Campbellton New Brunswick of James Dean in Time Square, and it was so powerful I had to write about it. That photo is now blown up, and hanging on the wall of my living room as I write this. My friend John, an American who I know and love dearly, insisted on getting it done for me. that piece of writing has been a curse to me over the years, and I like that it is in the past. Somethings are best left there.

We have made great strides in Jimmy’s journey. There are inevitably going to be setbacks, side tracks, and there are always those that will cause others harm. Jimmy’s greatest enemy has always been himself, he suffers from anxiety issues that prey upon him, make him uncertain, and cause him to doubt what he is capable of. The greatest crime of child abuse isn’t the scars, it’s the ingrained doubt. That you aren’t worth it, that you aren’t worthy of love, and that you distrust and disbelieve

Oh... oh boy... @Jeff Burton will rap my knuckles with a ruler if I say any more.

I totally agree, I had to make a compromise based on what would be best for the reader, over the characters. Being this late in the game, as it were, I needed to keep the focus on the immediate problem.

i used to materialize behind students who were acting up. So I had this one student, Eric, who was *ahem* one of those grey hair inducing students, and I had a first year class of ALL female students. I arrived in my lecture hall to find Eric at my podium (he was a second year and wasn't supposed to be there... but he'd spotted pretty pretty girls...) And he was doing what can only be described as a comedy rendition of Prof. Lydon that would have made Rowan Atkinson proud. He was waving about, issuing commands to the room, to the tittering girls who were loving it. Now as I said, I moved extremely quietly when I was in my prime. And I wore soft shoes (comfort thing, you try standing for eight hours a day in bloody Oxfords... no thanks) So I was able to move up behind him. The girls saw me and immediately there was a hush. Eric, being a total dork, kept on with his act... oblivious to the danger he was in. I still remember him freezing in place when he realized something was terribly, horribly wrong. He squeaked... like high pitched Squeak of "Teacher!" As he turned, in abject horror. "Get out Eric." I swear that boy wet himself... ahh memories.

I am told, that I do a rather effective Snape impression. I don't see it, but I do use "Teacher voice" which is a secret super power all teachers have to control rowdy children... which Alan Rickman beautifully brings to the film.

It is a place where people collectively hold their breath. But Anachronisms know of it Which means one other knows of it.

Good morning, One more to go for this one. Then Paradox Lost

Washington D.C. – November 25th 1953 The early morning light was a soft, pale wash over Agent Reed's craftsman kitchen. Wojciech moved with a quiet, methodical rhythm, his hands busy with simple, grounding tasks. He found a loaf of bread and a container of ham in the unfamiliar refrigerator, and began assembling sandwiches, a quiet act of preparation against the long, uncertain day ahead. It was busy work, a way to keep his hands occupied and his mind from

Yeah I think he has the most complete book list, he's always been a really great guy. @Dabeagle also, he was the first to host my work and a damn good friend. A lot of my work is out of print pending a second edition that I need to work through. New epub rules in the EU require them to be reworked to comply. I will get to it, just tired and focused on the writing side and not the publishing side... though I should... it's how my generate income... :: sighs and thinks he should employ his son Jacob to get the work done he's more technically minded ::

I have one that I know is in Canadian school Libraries. Queen of Ice, worst one of my sci-fi in my opinion, it's embarrassingly bad, but hey it's the only one that has no controversial moments. So they played it safe. I had a letter back in 2007-ish informing me that they were doing it. I was quite flattered.

If it counts, Reed does have a favourite gun, we'll get into that at a later date

07 yes General Scrubber, sorr

Chapter 6 Snow. Canada, especially Ottawa, was inexorably linked to it. The cold bit at Jimmy's face, a sharp, bracing contrast to the clammy warmth of the music hall. It crunched beneath their feet, slushed around their shoes, drifting down from the night sky through the orange-tinged light from the street lamps around them. They exited the video store, the scent of plastic and old movies clinging to the air, Wil clutching his selected film in both hands, as he walked precisely half a foo

Paradox Lost hit 76000 words today. The milestone that marks it as officially a book. 22 chapters so far, 241 TPB pages. It is getting there. I think another eight chapters for this one. Then Book 3 -- It seems I'm set to write a trilogy for this one. I never realized that historical Science Fiction would be so intriguing to write. The Watchers: Shattered Citadel.

I am fairly sure she's high on Stoker's "List" of naughty. And while he isn't Father Christmas, I am sure he has an Idea of how to deliver her some coal... and it doesn't involve politely handing it to her.

Perhaps he did.

Conviction often is, especially when it's weighted by certainty

As I've said, I like Henry. Henry is a decent man, trying to do what he believes is right. But he also has a conscience, and he's trying his best not to let a repeat of his own mistakes burn the world up.

i'm awake, honest...

Washington D.C. – November 24th 1953 Reed’s car, a sleek, dark 1953 Ford Customline that melted into the shadows, whisked through the streets of Washington D.C. The city at night was a breathtaking spectacle, a stark, modern marvel of light and steel. The headlights of passing cars streamed past, a constant, rhythmic blur, and the glow of neon signs and streetlights painted the wet asphalt in shifting colors. In the back seat, the air was thick with

Jimmy did a lot of his thinking with them back then....