A nice email dropped in my inbox today. It was from Artificium, an independent publisher that runs short story competitions every spring and summer, and publish an anthology of short fiction, flash fiction and poetry two to three times a year.
The email contained the shortlist for their summer competition and my name was among them! The full title of the story that has been shortlisted is “The Bisley Boy” (Extracts from Margery Ingleby’s journals — Modern English translation).
If anyone’s heard of the ‘Bisley Boy’, you’ll have an idea as to what this story’s about. It’s another Million Eyes short story and is inspired by a famous English conspiracy theory that dates back to Tudor times. I won’t tell you what it is (as it’s technically a big-ass spoiler) but I’ve written an article about it if you want to know!
At the moment it’s just been shortlisted and I believe it gets published in Artificium only if it makes it to the top four. The results are announced at the end of this month — eeek!
This week: Are we any closer to knowing who really killed JFK?
Eleven in ‘Stranger Things’
The world’s talking Stranger Things now that Season 2 has hit Netflix. But did you know that there might actually be some truth to the story of Eleven, the Demogorgon and the portal to the Upside Down?
Stranger Things was originally known as Montauk and Montauk is a name that’s pretty familiar to conspiracy theorists. It’s believed that between 1943 and 1983, the US government conducted secret experiments on children at Camp Hero in Montauk, Long Island, that have long been dubbed the ‘Montauk Project’.
The experiments were said to have involved time travel, teleportation, mind control, and contact with extra-terrestrial and extra-dimensional creatures. They were allegedly a continuation or extension of developments of the Philadelphia Experiment that took place in 1943. And some of the experiments, as you’ll read, bear a striking resemblance to the happenings in Stranger Things.
The story of the Philadelphia Experiment goes like this. On a quest to find new ways of foiling Nazi radar during World War II, the US military conducted secret experiments at the naval shipyard in Philadelphia involving a destroyer escort called the USS Eldridge. According to the letters of an eyewitness, Carlos Miguel Allende, which surfaced in the 1950s, the US military were successful in teleporting the USS Eldridge to New York, another dimension where it encountered aliens, and forwards in time. These teleportations resulted in the deaths of several sailors, some of whom ended up fused to the ship’s hull.
Stories about the Montauk Project popped up much later. In the early 1980s, a man named Preston Nichols claimed to have recovered a series of repressed memories about working on secret experiments at Camp Hero in Montauk. He said that during the 1970s, he worked on something called the ‘Montauk Chair’, a piece of furniture that used electromagnetism to amplify the psychic powers of certain ‘special’ children.
I wonder if I write about time travel because of a deep-seated longing to skip the utterly soul-destroying process of trying to pummel into the publishing industry and travel to a point in the future when I’m already there. Dunno. Maybe.
It. Will. Happen. That’s what I have to keep telling myself. It’s what all writers who want to be successful have to keep telling themselves.
Anyway, as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, my search for a literary agent for Million Eyes has been—so far—fruitless. I’ve submitted to 40 or so agents, nothing positive yet. I could still hear from a few of them because their estimated time for responding isn’t up (and I have the patience of a small child).
I’ve been through a few weeks of tearing my hair out, thinking the book is crap, and doubting that it’s ever going to happen. But then, we all go through that. Even the biggest, most successful authors have gone through that.
Nevertheless, I stopped submitting Million Eyes and took stock. I sought advice from my fellow scribblers at Rushmoor Writers, read them my query letter and opening pages and asked if there was any way I could improve them. Perhaps they’re just not catching agents’ eyes?
The advice I got was great. Mostly they recommended small tweaks to up the intrigue and grab the reader earlier in those opening lines and early pages. They also offered some much-needed words of encouragement: the book is good, and there’s a market for it.
So here I am, confidence resurged, ready to start submitting again. Will this next round of submissions yield any success? Heaven knows, but I’m keeping my chin up and everything crossed.
In other news…
I’m super-excited to have been chosen to become one of three new contributors to Time Travel Nexus, a website for time travel enthusiasts.
It covers movies, books and TV series in the time travel genre, as well as discussion about real world research into the possibilities of travelling in time.
Apart from my own writing in the genre (my forthcoming novel, Million Eyes, and its accompanying series of short stories), one of the reasons I was chosen is because of my research into real-life time travel conspiracy theories and urban legends. Stories like Rudolph Fentz, Andrew Carlssin, the Rendlesham Forest Incident, and the Vanishing Hotel. I’ll be helping Time Travel Nexus to explore these stories and debate the evidence for whether time travel is already happening all around us. Cue some lively discussions!
I’m also scheduled to be doing some serious geeking out over my favourite time travel episodes of Star Trek and Doctor Who, as well as movies like Looper, The Butterfly Effect and Back to the Future.
Looks like my life’s about to get a lot more wibbly wobbly. Can’t wait.
Between 1250 and 1000 BC, all of the major civilisations of the Bronze Age suddenly collapsed. No one knows why. Climate change? Volcanoes? Drought? Or was it because of an invasion by the shadowy and unidentified Sea Peoples? Archaeologists claim that a 3,200-year-old stone slab has the answer.
The Late Bronze Age collapse brought a violent end to all the major urban centres and governing systems of the Mediterranean, the Aegean, and most of Southwest Asia. The Hittite Empire fell and the New Kingdom of Egypt fragmented and lost a bunch of its colonies. Almost every city between Pylos and Gaza was destroyed, with scores of others abandoned. The collapse sparked a period of turmoil, famine and mass migration, and left behind the isolated village cultures of the Greek Dark Ages.
Nobody knows what or who caused the Late Bronze Age collapse. Scholars have long suspected that a mysterious seafaring confederation known only as the ‘Sea Peoples’ may have had something to do with it. Now archaeologists have managed to decipher the ancient symbols on a 3,200-year-old, 29-metre-long limestone frieze, shedding new light on these maritime conquerors.
The stone was found in the 19th century in what is now modern Turkey. Its inscription is the longest known hieroglyphic inscription from the Bronze Age and written in an ancient language called Luwian, which only about 20 scholars on the planet can actually read.
The Moon, it’s said, is an anomaly with so many freakish coincidences surrounding its existence that it must be a big, fat fake…
Even to the world’s best scientific minds, the Moon is a mystery of gargantuan proportions. Nobody knows how it was formed, and the most popular hypothesis—that a planet-sized rock called Theia smashed into Earth, ejecting a lump of rock into space that later became the Moon—has recently been thrown into doubt.
Even Irwin Shapiro, an astrophysicist and former director of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics, said:
“The Moon is bigger than it should be, apparently older than it should be and much lighter in mass than it should be. It occupies an unlikely orbit and is so extraordinary that all existing explanations for its presence are fraught with difficulties and none of them could be considered remotely watertight.”
There’s no escaping the fact that the Moon is damned odd. Here are some examples of its weirdness:
- It’s too big. The Moon is bloody huge compared to all the other moons in the Solar System. Author and professor of biochemistry Isaac Asimov argues that the Moon ought to be tiny, only about 30 miles in diameter, yet it’s actually 2,160 miles.
- The Moon is responsible for 80% of the Earth’s constant rotation. In relation to all the other planets and moons in our Solar System, the value’s less than 1%.
- Every planet and moon in the Solar System has different, unique isotopic ratios, and yet the Moon’s are the same as Earth’s. You might think that the ‘giant impact’ hypothesis or ‘whack theory’ explains this—because the Moon is a bit of Earth that broke off. But, in laymen’s terms, whack theory says that the impact would’ve caused the Earth and Theia to melt. The molten debris that eventually became the Moon would’ve mixed with Theia and re-formed in a completely different way to the Earth. This should’ve resulted in different isotopic ratios, but didn’t. Because, well, the Moon’s weird.
- The mother of all coincidences is the very nature of a total eclipse. The Moon is 400 times smaller than the Sun and 400 times closer to the Earth, which is why it completely obscures the Sun during an eclipse. Its size and orbit are just right. What are the chances?
Car accidents are, sadly, a normal occurrence on Britain’s A3 highway. But there was nothing normal about a crash that took place on it in 2002…
On the evening of 11th December, Surrey Police’s annual Christmas party was interrupted by calls from multiple witnesses reporting a probable car crash on the A3. They said they saw a car lose control and career off the dual carriageway—headlights blazing—about 100 metres before the slip road at Burpham in Guildford, Surrey.
All seemed fairly routine. Police attended the scene, initially finding no evidence of a crash. Continuing to search the area, they came upon a wrecked Vauxhall Astra, nose-down in a ditch just 20 yards from where witnesses had seen it veer off the road. It was obscured by trees and undergrowth that made it impossible to spot from the road.
The driver was found near the car, dead. It appeared that he’d crawled from the car and tried to climb the bank to seek help, but didn’t make it. The driver’s door was badly damaged, so he’d probably crawled out of the passenger side.
And his body was a skeleton.
I know, right. Classic “wait—what?” moment.
Turned out that the man, identified by dental records as 21-year-old Christopher Brian Chandler, was wanted by the police for robbery and went missing in July of that year.
So—unless skeletons are capable of driving—Mr Chandler’s accident actually occurred five months before the police found the car.
Question is, what on earth did all those witnesses see?
Vajdahunyad Castle in Budapest
Do you ever walk past a building and wonder if it’s really as it looks? Probably not, but that’s because we’ve all got too much on our minds. We take our surroundings for granted and we don’t question them. So how do we know that we’re not being deceived left, right and centre? Newsflash—we are.
There are buildings that aren’t what they seem all over the place. Last year I took a jaunt to Budapest with my girlfriend and we visited the grand and ornate Vajdahunyad Castle. Though it looks like it has been the home of kings and queens for centuries, it hasn’t. In fact, it’s only been standing since 1896 and nobody’s ever lived there. It’s a fake, a folly, a fantasy pastiche showcasing Hungary’s architectural evolution.
Vajdahunyad Castle amalgamates copies of parts of major landmark buildings from different time periods across different parts of Hungary. As a result, it’s a mishmash of Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque architectural styles, and even more telling is that it was originally made from wood and cardboard! It was rebuilt using stone and brick between 1904 and 1908 because it got so popular.
But Vajdahunyad Castle is not alone. There are tons of folly castles all over the world, and dozens in the UK alone. Take this castle, for example, which overlooks the city of Bath, Somerset.
From a distance, this looks like a typical medieval castle—but it’s nothing of the sort. Literally known as Sham Castle, it was built in the 18th century to ‘enhance the view’ from philanthropist Ralph Allen’s town house in the city. The blocked-up windows are a hint, but when you walk through its main entrance, that’s when you realise. There’s no more castle! You can see from the picture below that it’s only supposed to be viewed from the front.