“Sing Your Sadness Deep” cover reveal

One thing everyone knows about Undertow Publications is that they make gorgeous books. From Priya Sharma’s ‘All The Fabulous Beasts‘ to Mike O’Driscoll’s ‘The Dream Operator‘, Simon Strantzas’ ‘Nothing is Everything‘ to Georgina Bruce’s upcoming debut collection ‘This House of Wounds‘, Undertow’s books are never less than stunning, and immense care is taken to create books which are works of art, both outside and in. So I’m very pleased to be able to show you the cover to my own debut short story collection, due in September 2019:


The art is by Stephen Mackey, whose work is absolutely sublime, and the cover design by Vince Haig – I’ve always harboured a quiet ambition to have a Vince Haig design accompany one of my stories, so as you can imagine I’m very pleased about this! Also, as anyone who knows me will know, I adore foxes, so a creepy fox-woman feels very ‘on brand’ for me.

I’m deeply grateful to the Undertow team and Vince Haig for this amazing cover, and I’m really excited to share the collection with you all in 2019!

It’s Cliffmas Time

’tis the season, and my good friend Holly has put together a series of podcast episodes exploring popular Christmas songs, and just how their popularity has endured over the years. So if you’d like to hear the story of how Cliff Richard became an unlikely medical laboratory icon, check out my appearence on Holly’s podcast and all will be revealed.


I’ve sinced moved on from lab technician life, but I’ll always think fondly of the decommissioned fume cupboard grotto at this time of year. Merry Cliffmas indeed.


Sing Your Sadness Deep

Rounding off an incredibly exciting year for me is the news that my debut short story collection has been picked up by the wonderful Undertow Publications, and will be published in autumn 2019. It’s titled “Sing Your Sadness Deep” and I hope you will enjoy it.

An Undertow collection has been a dream of mine for a long time. My very first short story, ‘Red Rabbit’, was published by Undertow in ‘Shadows and Tall Trees #4’; they also published my Shirley Jackson award-nominated short story ‘Sun Dogs’ in ‘Shadows and Tall Trees #5’, so to have my first collection published by them is something really special. Anyone familiar with Undertow will know they produce absolutely stunning books, and I can’t wait to share mine with you all.

(As an aside, Undertow are also publishing British Fantasy Award-winning author Georgina Bruce’s debut collection next year, and you should be very excited about that – I know I am. It’s going to be something very, very special.)

Thank you, Laika



I think there is probably a limit to the number of times I’m permitted to mention That Thing That Happened before I become incredibly annoying, so let me get it out of the way: I only went and won a bloody British Fantasy Award, didn’t I?

The award-winning (!?) story in question is “Looking for Laika”, which was published in Interzone #273 and reprinted in Best of British Science Fiction 2017, and is a story close to my heart for all kinds of reasons, not least of which because it’s a kind of love letter to Laika, the Soviet space dog who was sent into space to die. I’m still astonished, honestly. I never expected that I might win, and I think I might have gone into some kind of shock when Adrian Tchaikovsky called my name out, because I don’t really remember anything that happened between that moment, and sitting back down. Apparently I made a speech, which sounds legit, although I didn’t write a speech because I didn’t think I’d win and I’m not entirely sure what I said (though I do recall yelling at Simon Bestwick to stand up…)


photo courtesy of Donna Bond

Anyway. That’s a thing that happened. And ironically even though I’m a writer, I’m not sure how to express in words how much it means to me, a vaguely person-shaped ball of anxious, imposter-syndrome infused jelly who has been writing since I was old enough to pick up a pen. Except to say that it means that much more that I was in a room surrounded by dear friends, and respected colleagues, and of course, Mr Mauro. I might never fully be over it, but I promise I’ll stop going on about it, at the very least.

And then there was Fantasycon more generally, which may actually have been my favourite Fantasycon yet. Brilliantly sprawling hotel filled with weird, mismatching statues. Beautiful city. Tons of gorgeous books. And most important of all, wonderful company.


photo courtesy of Jim McLeod


photo courtesy of Tim Major


Photo courtesy of Jess Jordan

I would do a full con report, but it wouldn’t do any of it justice, and I’d miss people out. So I’ll just say, to everyone I spent time with last weekend, whether we spoke briefly in passing or spent hours laughing, whether we shared a few drinks, or a signing table, or a reading slot, or near enough the whole damn weekend: you are all magical people and you make my world so much better by being in it. Thank you.


Where You Can Find Me At Fantasycon 2018 (if you want to)

Due to the often ad-hoc nature of Fantasycon I can’t guarantee I’ll be in any one place at any given time, except for those panels and so forth that I’ve signed up to do. So, I’ll list those below. But if you happen to be at Fantasycon and you’d like to say hello – please do! I tend towards the shy and slightly awkward, but I’m always happy to say hello to friends old and new!

My confirmed schedule is as follows:


The Edward:

4.30pm: The Role of Class in Science Fiction and Fantasy with Kevin McVeigh (m), Rosanne Rabinowitz, Peter Sutton, Laura Mauro, Alison Baker

The Disraeli:

8pm: Horror Readings with Catriona Ward, Kit Power, Laura Mauro



The Gladstone:

2pm: The Genre Magazine with Laurel Sills (m), Terry Jackman, Cheryl Morgan, Laura Mauro, Sandra Unerman

The Jubilee Room:

4pm: Launch: Titan Press (for New Fears 2)

5pm: Launch: Newcon Press (for Best British Horror 2018)

And of course on Sunday I will be hanging about at the British Fantasy Awards ceremony trying not to die of anxiety,.
If you’re going – hope to see you there!



Very excited to announce that my short story ‘人間’ (‘Ningen’) is available to preorder as a standalone short for Kindle, published by the excellent Darker Worlds Publishing:

“Tragedy has befallen the Russian submarine, Ussuri. Without explanation, the vessel has been lost to the depths of the ocean, all hands aboard presumed lost. A team of deep-sea divers has been dispatched to investigate.

What they will discover is the infinity of depths and landscapes that become only more alien to them. And as the team themselves are stricken by yet another tragedy, they must face the increasing reality of the possibilities that lay below. That what awaits them could be the ultimate truth. Or madness. Or both.”

It’s out on 24th October, so if you like creepy stories about weird things in the deep, dark ocean, I’ve got just the story for you…

It’s that time of year again


FantasyCon is almost upon us. Every year it sneaks up on me – one day, it’s months away, then all of a sudden it’s a matter of weeks and I’m signing up for panels and readings and wondering when I’m going to have time to do the important stuff: buying books, and propping up the bar.

I’m actually uncommonly nervous about Fcon this year. I’m always nervous (social anxiety is a hell of a drug) but this year I am filled with a creeping dread at the thought of it. And that’s not to say I’m not also looking forward to it, but imposter syndrome strikes in all kinds of weird ways, and it’s suddenly taken the fun and hilarious form of but what if this is the year I get found out? Every year, I have a wonderful time with wonderful people, who seem to like me well enough, and the creeping fear that I’m secretly awful and nobody’s guessed it yet is white noise in the background. This year, it’s louder. This year, I’m convinced that the goodwill and party atmosphere my subpar personality has coasted by on will no longer be enough, and everyone will see me for who I actually am. It’s super fun!

I think it’s something to do with being an awards nominee. And it’s difficult to talk about any negativity associated with awards nominations; of course I’m absolutely thrilled about it, even as I am slightly baffled. But they do come with a certain amount of pressure. And yes, much of it is self-imposed; nobody holds me to higher standards than I do.

Earlier in the year I was shortlisted for a Shirley Jackson award for my short story ‘Sun Dogs’. It was without a doubt one of the coolest things ever happen to me. And even though I didn’t win, it remains one of the coolest things, because it’s true that being nominated for awards is an honour and a joy even if you don’t actually win. But. And there is always a but.

It’s hard to admit to, but not winning an award stings. It’s hard to admit because it feels inherently selfish and egotistical. Shouldn’t the nomination be honour enough? And it is, yes, but there is always the hope inside of you somewhere – tiny, and quiet, but there – that you might possibly maybe be in with a chance of actually winning. So when you don’t – like I said, it stings.

It goes away, though, and the status quo resumes, because you can’t really miss an award you never had. And when I received my Shirley Jackson nominee pebble and certificate it really was a joy; even if I didn’t win, nobody can ever take away from me the fact that someone, somewhere thought my story was good enough to be shortlisted. I can say that now, with the benefit of hindsight, because the sting has healed.

But I am going in to FantasyCon an awards nominee again. A double nominee, in fact. I’ve been here before: in 2015, I was nominated for two British Fantasy Awards and attended my first ever FantasyCon feeling like I’d swallowed an especially nervous stone, which I carried around in my stomach all weekend. I feel like that again now. And although I tell myself I dare not entertain the hope that I might win, I know that my brain will betray me and do it anyway.

I’m sure it’ll be all right on the night. I’m sure I’ll manage to swallow the nerves down and have fun with my friends, and I’m sure they won’t see through my Normal Person Suit and find only terrible things beneath, because that’s something my mind has made up. (I mean, I’m not a Normal Person, that much is true, but the part of my brain that isn’t constantly on fire tells me that I’m pretty okay, actually.) And whether I win or not, I will always have the honour of having been considered worthy of the shortlist – and that is a hell of an honour.