Joy Cometh with the Mourning

(yes, the picture is a link, if you buy via it we get extra from Amazon, and it costs you no extra.)

I am known, principally, as a writer of Science Fiction and Fantasy. To a lesser extent perhaps as a satirist, particularly fond of amorality in his aliens (or dragons… or rats) to question human mores and worldviews. A fool who takes on hell with a fire-bucket, a friend of battlers and lost causes, the old, the weak, the underdog, and indeed dogs in general. And marginally, a contrairian and philosophical fellow, who is mildly barking mad, living in the remotest of quiet backwaters, if one surrounded entirely by extremely turbulent ocean waters.

Humans are complex creatures, and some of us have more small moveable parts than others. I suppose the book above is an example of how different I can be from your preconceptions. It’s not what you expect. It has no elements of fantasy or science fiction in its plot. It is what is commonly called a ‘cozy’. A murder-mystery, with no on-scene blood, gore, or sex. Down the lines of Agatha Christie, with a touch of Miss Read. Oddly such a thing is much harder to write than my normal genre, at least for me. It is set in a small coastal village, more or less present day. The lead character is a rather timid lady-priest from an urban background sent out to hold the fort on the sudden death – in the aisle of the church – of her predecessor, under somewhat mysterious circumstances.

No I did not choose to have a female priest for doctrinal reasons, or because of any deeply held belief on my part. I wrote her as the lead character for two simple reasons – that it is a common de facto situation in the Anglican Church in Tasmania, and I wanted the least suitable character for the problems of a remote rural church and its congregation. That’s what authors do to make a good story: they put their characters in the most difficult situations, and let them dig themselves out. You know, Superman would be really boring without kryptonite. Joy finds ways to turn her weaknesses into strength and, well, she has help.

I wrote this book as a fundraiser for the tiny little Parish of Furneux Islands. I have donated it entirely to them, because they’re in strife and do good things in my community.

And because the image isn’t showing in some browsers…

Final 3

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