I’m looking forward to meeting Caroline Rance, whose debut historical novel has recently been released. Kill-Grief is based in Chester and so has resonance for me. Caroline’s website will whet your appetite here. You’ll see that the novel is a gutsy medical drama set in the eighteenth century – mystery, well-researched history, medicine and a lechorous surgeon – what more could you want?

She is part of the Chester Library Meet the Authors programme this year and will be talking about her book and the research that went into it on Wednesday November 25th at 7pm. Entrance is only £3 and includes refreshments.

One of my favourite people sat on a rug and talked for half an hour to himself. So I thought. Then I realized Oliver was nattering to his friends – a book, a plastic collandar, a polar bear and a rattle. He moved them around while talking to them. Perhaps they talked back but my hearing isn’t all that good, and more importantly, I don’t understand his language.

You will have gathered that Oliver is my grandson, not yet 9 months old. I’d love to know what is in his head when he plays like that. Raw thoughts and emotions? Almost seems a shame that we try to teach him English, or any formal language. Will he then lose the concepts he now uses with his friends?

Wordsworth once said in verse ‘The child is father of the Man.’ He knew something…

My science fiction mystery is available in weekly chapters free for readers at Kalkion at

http://kalkion.com/node/646

My short story, Brothers’ Largesse, has been published in the famous anthology, Twisted Tongue, issue #13. It is currently available for free download at

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/twisted-tongue-magazine-issue-13/7794651

A pay-for-print version is available later.

Brothers’ Largesse explores the possibilities of the Big Brother phenomenon getting out of hand.

Ilam Hall is a grand old limestone building in the beautiful Dove Dale in Derbyshire. Check out the photo

And yet it is let to the Youth Hostel Association for anyone from kids to ancients to enjoy overnight stays while in that part of the Peak District on hikes and bike rides.  I chose to stay there one night this week during a farewell bike ride from Chester to Nottingham.

My son decided to try cycling to work in Nottingham and in my garage leaned the first Dawes Super Galaxy I owned. Surplus to my requirements since my wife bought me a brand new one two years ago today, I offered it to my son. Of course he expected me to take it on the train or the car but where’s the fun in that? And my bike deserved one last cross-country ride. It had faithfully taken me to Cheltenham many times as well as to Snowdonia and beyond. I’ve had the urge to ride to Nottingham since son went to university there but the route eluded me. It seems easy planning north to south minor road routes, embellished by National cycle routes but not so west to east at this latitude. Nottingham is almost due east by about 100 miles from Chester with the Pennines (the backbone of England) in the way. Also there is the conurbation of Stoke-on-Trent with its subsumed towns of Kidsgrove – never easy to cycle through while navigate on the wheel. Nevertheless, I enjoyed planning the route and on Wednesday I set off with two loaded panniers on the rear, and a map-holder on theh handlebars. The forecast was cloudy but no rain and a slight headwind, made worse the faster I cycled so I cheated and cycled slowly.

On nearing Sandbach close to the dreaded conurbation, I saw a National Cycle byway sign for route 5. Umm, tempting because it headed east and in the direction of one of many canals. They have tow paths, many of which have been surfaced for cycling. Risking going off my route I hurtled into unknown but quiet country lanes. They actually took me over the canals and their humped-backed bridges but along a disused railway. Marvelous cycling but for one thing: I didn’t know where I was! Mile after mile, the nice level gravel path passed under bridges and when by a canal up the lock slopes, but there were no signs to say which roads passed on the overhead bridges or what the towns were. I just had to stop and cycle up to one of the overhead bridges and ask a local: “Is this the A50?”

“Dunno, mate, it’s the Stoke Road.” Grrrr.

Route 5 leaves the security of traffic-free journeying at Kidsgrove but, hey, a Tesco! Toilets, cafe, hooray. Not many customers in there only buy one banana, and one bottle of isotonic energy drink but I did, then asked an assistant for where they hide the single bars of Snickers. She made a wild guess and said: “Are you on a bike ride?” I resisted a one-liner and followed her for miles away from multipack confectionery. Since I had an operation on my calcaneous heel many years ago, I walk slowly. After a couple of hours of my legs in rotating mode, I found walking even more silly and so had to guess which aisles she steamed around. In the Mens I enjoyed washing the salt off my face. To amusement of others, I used the high-force drier to jet the moisture away from my face.  It nearly blew away my nose – amazing how powerful - those new driers. In Stoke-on-Trent I had to leave Route 5 to cross a suburb – very hilly Chell – to find Route 55 for a few more miles. I met a few unleashed dogs, most of which returned to owners when called. I stopped, ready to blast them with my dog-dazer though it wasn’t necessary.

Back on my route, the hills climbed up the foothills of the Pennines. I found no alternative but to cycle along the A52, ostensibly a main road. However, it was surpisingly quiet but more up than down. Some stretches warned drivers to use low gears on the uphill! I did too, but I have a rule: if it’s faster to get off and push then do so. I did, for hill after hill. Funny thing is that sometimes once the momentum of downhilling runs out on the up, I could carry on far easier than on other hills. I think some tarmac is more go-faster than others. Eventually I saw the very welcome sign for Ilam Hall, 3 miles. And downhill! My brakes were in danger of meltdown but it is so heart-lifting to see the final signposts for your destination after a days hard cycling.

My brain must have been tired too because it took me a few cycle arounds the grounds to find Reception. Once there I asked directions for the cycle store. “Sorry sir, there isn’t one.”

What? A youth hostel boasting of its refurbishment last winter and with pictures of cyclists most of its door signs and yet has no safe cycle store. The 12-year-old receptionist recommended I took the bike around the back to a recycle store instead. No locks on the gates and I had to move the large bins to get at the only metal bar available to lock my bike to. The need to use a recycle store instead of a cycle store aside, the youth hostel is very fine indeed and I slept like a hibernating bear, waking up hungry.

Thursday morning it was foggy with light rain. Aaarrggh. Even so I had to go. There are several problems cycling in rain: poor visibility for drivers, brakes don’t work, slippery roads, I couldn’t see the lovely Dove Dale so well, and my glasses don’t have windscreen wipers. Nevertheless, the route to Nottingham from Ashbourne, although mostly on main roads, went very well and it was a joy to reach the boundary of Nottingham.

I handed over the bike to bemused (he’s quite mad) looks from son’s fiancee’s mum and in exchange son made me a wonderful humous and olive sandwich for the return journey by train.

It felt strange being back in Chester on Thursday night, knowing that I’d left it only the previous day having cycled and pushed hard for 100 miles. Strange but wonderful and answering the question I’d asked while struggling up some hills on why I did it.

On another matter entirely, my scifi Exit, Pursued by a Bee, is soon to be serialized by http://www.kalkion.com

There I was happily dreaming that I was on my bike pedalling furiously up a hill – actually it was a brick wall, there is probably a metaphor there – when I encounter a group of people. I realize with shock that I am speaking a foreign language, and they are returning with the same. What’s going on? I could speak fluent German as a kid but although I don’t now I do recognise it. Then another person comes along – the top of the wall – and speaks in English to me. I kind of like this idea even though it is a little disturbing that part of my brain is fluent in Betelgeuse while the cognisant part isn’t. There must be a story there.

Having trouble with Boots.com  I bought a kitchen appliance from Boots.com recently and phoned the Advantage card people to ask whywhen I inserted my card in the shop machine it doesn’t tell me about my additional points. The conversation flowed thus:

Me: where’s my points?

Advantage: your card is terminated.

Me: why?

Advantage: you ordered a new one on Boots.com yesterday.

Me: No, I didn’t.

Advantage: Yes, you did – the computer says so.

Me: No, I didn’t. I say so. I haven’t been on Boots.com for days.

Advantage: sorry about that.

Me: are you saying someone has hacked my account, used my password, etc – stolen my identity?

Advantage: Seems like that.

Me: what happens next then?

Advantage: We’re issuing you a new card and changed your number.

Me: What about the theft of my ID?

Advantage: Yes, that’s a nuisance.

Me: It’s theft and against the Data Protection Act and the Computer Act. Call the police.

Advantage: Ah no, it might be a Boots computer glitch. Don’t call the police. I’ll speak to a senior and he’ll get on to you.

I’m still waiting. That reminds me, I’d better change the password again.

I have started a regular monthly column at Kalkion, an internet-based magazine on science fact and fiction. Rather like our one print based Escape Velocity but covering slightly different ground.

My column is at http://kalkion.com/column/it-science-fiction/555 it’s about Margaret Atwood, whose writing I love to bits but not her attitude to the science fiction genre.

Sometimes my words will appear translated in the Hindi version, which is really cool – as they say.

Just returned from this year’s FantasyCon in Nottingham, UK. Great event with Jasper Fforde, Juliet McKenna and many others. I was a panellist speaking on ebooks and future wizardry in publishing. I sold an armful of my books and our Escape Velocity magazine, but the best aspect was catching up with other fantasy friends such as Joseph D’Lacey, Steve Upham, Terry Martin and too many more to mention.

It’s always a pleasure to attend FantasyCon even if I only sell a few books.

This is to be a crazy weekend. FantasyCon, the annual shindig of the British Fantasy Society, is 18-20th September this year at Nottingham’s Britannia Hotel. I have booked a table to sell my wares, but mainly I’m looking forward to meeting buddies again such as Terry Martin, Steve Upham, Ian Whates, Terry Jackman and many others. Somehow I got roped in to be on a discussion panel. This one is on ebooks and future wizardry in publishing. Okay I know a tiny bit about ebooks but often speculate about zapping ebook data directly via wireless into our neocortex. What fun. Lots of futuristic issues there – not all nice. Hah.

Then I like to combine my FantasyCon weekend with visiting my son, who lives in Nottingham. This is always a pleasure especially now he lives with his fiancee and her delightful cutie-pie toddler daughter. So my daughter says she is due to visit to Nottingham too. Well, her baby son is also cute and we love to spend every spare second with him too, and daughter, son-in-law – all the family. So our poor little Rover 25 is now packed to the roof with bedding, travel cot, pushchair, and overnight kit. I nearly forgot to pack the books and kit the whole visit to Nottingham was in aid of!

Yesterday I received a note from Terry Jeeves in Scarborough. He was the original artist for science fiction magazine, Vector, which is still running. He and my dad were both scifi artists in their spare time, both ink-drawing spaceships, robots and planets in the 1960s. I’ll be scanning some of the pictures Terry sent me. He’s 92 and not in the best of health but his scifi heart is beating strongly. If anyone has spare scifi mags and books then send them to him at Queen Margaret’s Nursing Home in Scarborough.

Murky Depths is deep but in my opinion not murky. In fact it is the 21st century graphic literature’s coruscating must read / own fantasy. The story lines and art are leading edge with art by such talent as Leonardo M Giron, Martin Deep,  Nancy Farmer and Paul Drummond; writers such as Juliet E McKenna, Gareth D Jones and Jon Courtenay Grimwood; and both art and writing from the multi-talented Richard Calder.

I love our own Escape Velocity magazine, but Murky Depths is a gem and undoubtedly the best illustrated adult mag of all time. Sample it at

http://www.murkydepths.com/

Congrats Terry Martin for running Murky Depths and for taking the bold step of publishing talent in paperback novels such as Sam Stone with her vampire stories. Her Futile Flame is now out adding to the fang-curling success of Killing Kiss. (both available here)