Sleazy times are a-coming...

When it comes to horror, I’m willing to embrace most of the sub-genres and enjoy them for what they offer. Sometimes I like a good ghost story, sometimes I like a good action-led piece, sometimes (looking at you, Gary McMahon) I like them bleak and sometimes I like them old-school, with lashings of sex and violence. I began reading horror in the mid-80s, when gore was good and over the past few years, thanks mainly to Johnny Mains, I’ve begun collecting and re-reading the trashy, sleazy horror from the late 70s/early 80s (especially from Brit houses, such as NEL, Star and Futura). Also, thanks to my reviewing commitments with VideoVista, I discovered Shameless and Arrow, re-releasing on DVD old 70s and 80s sleaze extravaganzas. I’ve been like a pig in the proverbial, I tell you, catching up with titles (books and films) that I’ve been after for years but haven’t been able to find.

Late last year, I was involved in Hersham Horror Books’ “Fogbound From Five” - a five-writer-collection edited by Peter Mark May. It’s a classy paperback, a good size and has some excellent stories. I didn’t realise, at the time, that Peter was planning on making this style into a series - which he’s called PentAnth’s. The second edition, due in September of this year, is Stuart Hughes’ “Siblings” and I have no doubt it’ll be excellent - Stuart’s an excellent editor and he’s got some great writers lined up.

Then Peter asked me if I’d like one. It took me about a second to say “yes, of course” and about a minute to come up with a pitch of what I’d like it to have as a theme.

The book has now been announced on the Hersham Horror Books site and if I tell you the title, you’ll guess the sub-genre straight away.

“Anatomy Of Death In Five Sleazy Pieces” (how cool is that?) will appear in both print and digital editions in March 2013. It will contain stories by Johnny Mains, Stephen Bacon and my good self, plus talented newcomers Selina Lock and Andrew Murray (the latter’s an Aussie and I’ve told him that if he wants to mine the Ozploitation field, he’s more than welcome!) and I will be producing the cover art (probably in league with Neil Williams again).

It’s a long way off, of course and I have no idea what my story is going to be, but I’m very chuffed about this. I hope you will be too.

More news as and when…

This is wonderful...

It combines my deep appreciation of the father/son bond and Stormtroopers. How can this not be a win-win situation?

(I didn't take this picture, but found it on Facebook via tor.com)

Guest post by Cate Gardner

(I don't usually have blog tours coming through here but, for the first time ever, I've made an exception for the lovely and hugely talented Cate Gardner. Support her work, folks, you won't be disappointed).

"The Travelling Theatrical Tour: Diary of a Horsewoman"


Thank you to Mark for allowing me to invade his blog so that I can celebrate the release of my book, Theatre of Curious Acts.

The following page was found on a road made from teeth and toenails….

Tuesday
Actually, it's always Tuesday here. Or that's how it feels. Why name the days when they all have the same goal… Bloody hell, I think my sigh just toppled several trees. Sometimes it's cool to be apocalyptic.

Today, a rabble of schoolchildren took a wrong turning during a school trip and wandered into the Worm World Market. My sisters are convinced the children are whom we've been waiting for. The apocalypse is nigh. Overdramatic or what? Personally, I think they just don't like children. And I know the children don't like us. Such caterwauling.

Wednesday
We don't like Wednesday's. We'd quite like the world to end on a Wednesday.

I think I saw one of those schoolchildren hiding behind The Collector. He can't protect them all.

Thursday
I'm going to take up knitting. I'm sure I could knit a scarf the length of the Anabiosis Station. I'll use intestines in place of wool. How long do those things stretch? I read it somewhere. Will make a mess of the floor, I suppose.

I don't care about the floor.

If I could find those children, I'd unravel them.

Friday
Knit one, pearl one, stuff another in the barrel and leave it to rot.

Saturday
We had a riot here last night. An absolute riot. The patrons of the Apple Seed Inn tumbled down the hillside cracking both themselves and the ground open. Thankfully, no more children crept out.

Sunday
A day of rest - or so the local market traders claim - but we all know there's no rest for the wicked. In fact, Blanche carves that saying into those she conquers. I bet it hurts when they sit down. I'd quite like to sit down for a moment or a millennia or until the world ends.

Monday
Is it the end of the world yet?

*

And the answer to the lady's question can be found in Theatre of Curious Acts which is available at all good bookstores.

Daniel Cole wants the world to end.

Returned home from the Great War, his parents and brother in their graves, Daniel walks a ghost world. When players in a theatre show lure Daniel and his friends, fellow soldiers, into a surreal otherworld they find themselves trapped on an apocalyptic path. A pirate ship, helmed by Death, waits to ferry some of them to the end of the world.

Already broken by war, these men are now the world's only hope in the greatest battle of all.

More information is available at www.categardner.net

First acceptance of 2012...

...came today, from Ross Warren and Anthony Watson at Dark Minds press, for their "Darker Minds" anthology.

My story "Looking At Me, Seeing You" will be sharing space with some excellent names and I can't wait to see the book.

Into 2012

Happy New Year to everyone!

Hope your festive season went well and now, here we are, in 2012 and January is already 10 days old! Where does the time go?

One of my Christmas highlights was an influx of Nerf guns (we bought one design for him and for me, my sister-in-law Flo bought him another design and got me one too), leading to some running battles that were great fun (and often led to Alison’s call of “what’s this bullet doing behind the fish bowl?”).

Writing wise, I’m currently working on a ghost story, set on the east coast (surprise, surprise) but set slightly further north than my beloved Yarmouth/Heyton area and I’m hoping to have at least the first draft completed this week. I’ll let you know how things go with it.

I’m also getting involved with some comedy too, as my friend Jon is taking his first steps into stand-up. I’ve written a couple of pieces, which I’m sure he won’t sure, but we’re off to the "We Are Most Amused - at the Vic" comedy night this Thursday and having a meal beforehand to discuss his material. Very much looking forward to it.

Over Christmas, there was a new ad for Sainsbury’s on TV and Alison said it reminded her very much of me & Dude. I saw it and knew what she meant and, because this is my blog, I’m going to post it here. As an aside, you can - for the briefest of moments - see the Royal Albion Hotel (where I attended the 2011 Fantasycon).

Merry Christmas!

I’d like to take this opportunity to wish readers of this blog (and their loved ones) a very Happy Christmas, with all best wishes for the New Year.

Thank you for your continued support and interest, let’s hope 2012 is a storming year for all of us!

A Year In Books

Well, it’s that time of the year again, as we gear up for Christmas and remember the good (and not so good) of 2011. Here, I present the now Third Annual ‘My Best Reads Of The Year’ award and my top 20 reads like this:

Joint 1st:
Love & Freedom, by Sue Moorcroft
The Concrete Grove, by Gary McMahon

3: The Silent Land, by Graham Joyce
4: The Hellbound Heart, by Clive Barker
5: Nearly Departed, by Rook Hastings
6: It Knows Where You Live, by Gary McMahon
7: Fogbound From 5, edited by Peter Mark May
8: Peel Back The Sky, by Stephen Bacon
9: The Howling, by Gary Brandner
10: The Derelict, by Neil Williams
11: Immortal Remains, by Rook Hastings
12: Early Autumn, by Robert B Parker
13: Lantern Rock, by Stephen Bacon
14: King Death, by Paul Finch
15: Play It As It Lays, by Joan Didion
16: Nowhere Hall, by Cate Gardner
17: Necropolis Rising, by Dave Jeffery
18: Angels Of The Silences, by Simon Bestwick
19: Last ManThroughThe Gate, by Tim C Taylor

There’s no number 20 listed here, since I’m currently reading Alison Littlewood’s superb “A Cold Season” and that will definitely feature.

The worst, without any close competition, was “Almost Blue”, by Carlo Lucarelli (translated by Oonagh Stransky), a dreadful piece of work.

Stats-wise, as of this writing, I’ve read 50 books - 31 fiction, 8 non-fiction and 11 comics/nostalgia. I didn't read any Three Investigator books at all, since I finished my epic read-through of the first 30 last year but, to be honest, I've missed them.

All of my reviews are posted up at Goodreads here

Writing round-up

“The Mill” continues to gather good notices, the latest appearing at The Book Den, where I also contributed a guest blog post on where the story came from.

The Review can be found here, whilst my guest blog can be found here.

I was also thrilled to discover that the story came at number 8 in the Top 15 Reads of the year, as compiled by Jim MacLeod at the Ginger Nuts Of Horror website.

In other news, “Fogbound From 5” is starting to roll out - it’s available in print and digital editions over in the USA, with the print edition due here very early in the new year, though you can get it from Amazon on Kindle. Really proud of this collection - not only does it contain my story “Last Train Home”, by Neil Williams & I were responsible for the cover artwork.

Coming soon....

..."Fogbound From 5", a new collection from those nice folk at Hersham Horror Books. It features brand new fiction from Alison Littlewood, Adrian Chamberlin, Neil Williams, Peter Mark May and me, with the cover art and design by Neil and myself.

My story "Last Train Home" features a monster dear to my heart and the ending was suggested by Matthew. We were driving one day and I was thinking aloud about what the story could be and he told me how it should finish - and, with a couple of tiny tweaks, I've managed to write what he suggested.

Here's the trailer I produced, ordering details will be coming soon...

My sister

Tomorrow, the 25th, is my Dad’s birthday - he’s a sprightly pensioner now, his life more full of activity than when he was gainfully employed and he has a great time chasing around after his two grandchildren. We’ll visit him tonight, to give him his cards and gifts and wish him all the best.

Tomorrow, the 25th, my kid sister Sarah & I will go up to the cemetery, just on the edge of town and put flowers on our sister Tracy’s grave. It’ll be the eighth anniversary of her passing, which doesn’t feel like any time at all, until you think about everything that has happened since.

When Tracy passed away in 2003, Alison & I were trying for a baby and now we’re the exceptionally proud parents of Matthew, who’s 6 years old and as bright as a button. He’s the best thing I’ve ever created in my life and I’m sure Tracy would have loved him. He knows all about her, he’s seen her pictures, watched her in the wedding video, we talk about her, but there’s a constant nagging sadness that neither of them got to meet. I’m sure they’d have got on brilliantly - I’m convinced of it, in fact - but it wasn’t to be. Likewise, Tracy never got to meet Lucy, my god-daughter and niece, who is a beautiful and lovely two-year-old. Nor did see get to see Sarah graduate from university, meet Chris and get married. Worse, she never got to see how well my parents coped (in a situation that is almost unfathomable in its horror), how strong they were and how determined to keep moving forward - to remain as wonderful parents to me & Sarah and superb grandparents for Matthew & Lucy.

Time does ease pain and scars do heal over, but at certain points of the year, that time is rolled back and those scars are re-exposed. Tomorrow is that day for us.

It’s been eight years, but I remember that awful phone call as if it was yesterday. I wish I didn’t have to hear it, I wish my Mum hadn’t had to make it.

RIP, Tracy, never forgotten.

Another hero - Michael Hutchence

Today marks the 14th anniversary of Michael Hutchence's death. I still clearly remember hearing the news on the radio that morning and not quite believing it - he was dead, how could that be?

I followed without liking the awful media circus that broke out in the aftermath - the various dysfunctional family activities, the muck-raking, the missing funds, the death of Paula Yates making an orphan of their daughter - but still retained my image of the man. I never met him, though I was lucky enough to get to a few of their concerts (I'm in the crowd at Wembley XS and Alison & I saw them at the NEC in the summer of '97 when the whole band seemed to be on top form), but I wish I had. I've since read biographies and he generally comes across as a decent enough bloke - he loved his family and friends, he lived like a rock star and he always wanted to do his best.

We've seen INXS since - at the NEC again, with Jon Stevens fronting and also on Clapham Common earlier this year, with JD Fortune - and whilst they're still very good, they're definitely missing him. I've only listened to Switch briefly (though Alison really likes it), but their pre-97 music still moves me.

14 years is a long time, though it doesn't feel that far away as I write this. RIP, you true rock star.

I Met Caroline Munro...

On Friday, through a friend’s Facebook update, I found out there was a Memorabilia fair at the NEC, in Birmingham. I’ve wanted to go along to one for years and, after having had a crap few weeks at work, thought it’d be a nice treat. With the promise that there would be plenty of Mario-related toys, I convinced Dude to accompany me.

We headed off on Saturday morning and I was overwhelmed with the scale of it all - I’d expected a big area, with plenty of stands, but this was just so much more. The second stand was selling badges and we were off, with Dude picking up a load and me finding a Six Million Dollar Man one. We worked our way around the place, meeting various characters on the way - Darth Vader, R2-D2 and the Stig were quite happy to pose with Matthew and Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger approached us, but Dude saw them off with a swish of his newly-bought Lightsaber. He got to sit in the DeLorean (“you’re Doc Brown,” he said to the man running the stand), we picked up a few Mario characters for him and I got a couple of vintage Stormtroopers to add to my growing collection.

In the centre of the hall were the famous faces, little booths where you could meet and greet and get autographs from actors who’d been in various sci-fi/fantasy/horror films over the years. I’ve never been a big one for collecting autographs (though I’d queue for hours to get Roger Moore’s), though seeing Ian Ogilvy’s name (he had a white XJS across from him) made me pause - but he was at lunch. We walked around the corner and, out of idle curiosity, I checked the names of the people there. And stopped. Dude stopped too and looked at me, frowning.

“What’s up, Dad?”

“Holy crap,” I said, “it’s Caroline Munro.”

I got a tap on the arm for the swear word (Alison has declared ‘crap’ in that category) but it didn’t matter. I was standing across from the booth that Caroline Munro was signing at (she must have been at lunch with Ian Ogilvy at the time).

“We have to come back,” I told my six-year-old son, as if our roles had been completely reversed and I wasn’t the forty-two-year-old Dad in this scenario, “I can’t miss this opportunity.”

“Okay then,” said Dude, “can we go and see if we can find Donkey Kong now?”

In order to understand just why this was so important to me, we have to go back to the mid-70s. I would have been 8 or so and, when my parents took us shopping (usually on a Friday night, to Sainsbury’s in Corby town centre), I’d sometimes go out to explore. Near the old fountains (long since gone now), there was an advertising hoarding and sometimes I’d look at it, sometimes I’d ignore it. One day, it was an ad for Lamb’s Navy Rum. And I fell instantly in love with the model on it, her wet-suit zipped down to her belly, her cleavage glistening with water - she had a pretty face, long dark hair and I knew I was in love.

A little later, I went with some school-friends to watch a couple of Sinbad films at the cinema, a double bill of “The Eye Of The Tiger” and “The Golden Voyage”. And there, in the latter, was my lovely lady. Later still, Dad took me to see “The Spy Who Loved Me” (which remains, to this day, my favourite Bond film) and there she was, flying the helicopter during the exciting Lotus chase sequence. It was her, the Lambs Navy Rum girl, all pouty and pretty and with cleavage on show.

I stayed for the credits and found out her name was Caroline Munro and my crush was then complete. As the 70s eased into the 80s, she made films - “Maniac” and “The Last Horror Film” - that I didn’t have a chance of watching, then appeared as a hostess on “3-2-1”, a Saturday night gameshow that initially I had to endure because the folks liked it, until Ms Munro appeared.

Even though I stopped watching “3-2-1” soon after (and still haven’t seen those horror films), I never forgot Caroline Munro and she’s always had a special pull for me - very pretty, very sexy but somehow curiously safe (in that English way) - and she’s the one woman I say I fancy where Alison doesn’t roll her eyes.

Anyway, back to the present, back to 2pm on Saturday 19th November 2011. After getting Donkey Kong for Dude, we made our way back to the booth that Caroline Munro was based at. There were some people in front of us, talking to her and my nerves started to get the better of me. What should I say? Is it polite to say to a lady that you’ve had a crush on her for almost 35 years - would I sound like a pervert? Would it worry her? Should I mention her films? Perhaps the fact that Dude & I have recently re-discovered “3-2-1” on Challenge TV and had seen her only the last week on there?

The people in front of us moved away. We stepped forward. The still-very-attractive Caroline Munro looked up and smiled and my heart melted - all of a sudden, I was 8 years old again, staring at that Lambs Navy Rum poster.

“Hello,” she said and, before I got a chance to say a word, Dude said, “hello” and that was it, they were off. She asked him his name, how he liked school, what his favourite lessons were. They chatted easily, taking in everything from maths to Super Mario and I stood there like a spare part, still trying to figure out what to say. Should I mention that I’d found the old ads on the Net? Should I mention that her wink, just before she tries to destroy James Bond is still one of the sexiest moments in film for me?

“I’m almost speechless,” is the classic line I eventually came out with, “you have no idea how much of an honour this is for me.”

She smiled and nodded - it’s probably a common reaction, I suppose - and then we talked for a while and she signed an autograph for me (“pick the Bond picture,” said Dude but I ignored his advice and went for the red swimsuit one). She noticed my camera and said “Would you like a photo?” and I agreed.

She got up from behind her table and we met at the end of it. She called Dude over and he stood between us and she put a hand on his shoulder and one around my waist. I tempted fate, put my right arm around her. The afternoon couldn’t get much better - I’d now not only met and talked with my boyhood crush, I was posing for a photo with her and my arm was around her. I was beyond happy, though in the photograph I look scared to death.

Caroline sat back down and I thanked her and shook her hand and she held out hers for Dude. He duly shook it and she told him to keep working hard at school and then we were away.

It took me several minutes for me to get my breath back and as I write this, I can still feel the terror and excitement as I stood before her. What’s nicest about the whole thing though (apart from the fact that I had no idea she’d be there) is how nice she was - she was lovely and friendly, warm and encouraging and she was genuinely interested in her conversation with Dude, which was a delight to witness.

So that was our day - both of us loved it, for mostly different reasons and when Dude suggested last night, as I put him to bed, that we go again today, I seriously considered it for a moment or two.

Yesterday, I met a hero of mine, a crush of three decades standing and she was more delightful than I could have ever imagined. And it made me think that I wish I could go back and say to the eight-year-old me, mooning over that Lambs Navy Rum poster, “One day, mate, you’ll get to meet her and please, please, please, think of something intelligent to say!”

I love this sequence...

It's taken from "Flasbbacks Of A Fool", a film directed by Bailie Walsh that was, in my opinion, unfairly lambasted on its release. It has a sequence in it, embedded from YouTube below, where the hero and his hoped-to-be girlfriend dance and lip-synch to Roxy Music. It's beautiful, it's nostalgic, it's quite poignant and I really like it.

More reviews for "The Mill"

The great Pablo Cheesecake reviews "The Mill" at The Eloquent Page where, amongst other things, he writes, "West treats what could be difficult subject matter with a delicate, reverential touch and it shows. Subtle and affecting, this is a captivating read."

The brilliant Shaun Hamilton, over at the Horrifically, Horrifying blog, had this to say, "THE MILL is a haunting tale about loss and grief and the lengths people might go to just to spend one more minute with their dearly departed. A ghost story in the Susan Hill mould, THE MILL is gentle in its writing, offering respect for the subject matter as opposed to continuosly heading for the gullet."

On Goodreads.com, G.R. Yeates says, "The theme of losing a loved one is visited with rare sensitivity and once again showcases Mark West's skill at realistically portraying interpersonal relationships with dialogue that shines."

Alessa Dark on Twitter wrote "Bold mix of real and supernatural horror, often difficult to pull off, but well-handled in this case."

I can't tell you how heart-warming this is to read. If anyone wants a PDF review copy, email me or the publisher for details.

Available from Amazon.co.uk here
Available from Amazon.com here

Available from iTunes (UK) here
Available from iTunes (US) here

Available from Barnes & Noble here

Available from Smashwords here

"Later", a short film by Simon Duric

Note:
It’s my opinion that the “Later” experience (for both the short story and the short film) is made all the better by not knowing what’s coming, by letting the piece of work guide you and confound you and move you without prior knowledge. To that end, this review/essay won’t give you a blow-by-blow plot breakdown but there might be minor spoilers within. You’ve been warned!

Sometime in 1996, in a Stephen Jones themed anthology (I won’t tell you the name of it, since it sort of gives the game away), I read a short story called “Later” by Michael Marshall Smith. At that point, I hadn’t read anything by him and when I got to the last line, I was amazed and moved and astonished at how much power that story packed (for those interested, it’s reprinted in all its glory in Smith’s 1999 collection from Harper Collins, “What You Make It”). I became an instant fan and continue to tell as many people as will listen just how good it is - I even homaged (well, alright, stole) the beautiful “Later…” line in my own novel five years later.

Fifteen years on and I’m in Brighton, attending the British Fantasy Society’s FantasyCon, held the weekend that September rolls into October. Martin Roberts, an old friend, has organised the film shows for the event and, knowing of my love for the story, tells me that he’s secured a screening of a short film version. I didn’t even realise one was being made.

Slight dilemma. I read quite a lot and, on occasion, I’ve read a book or story before it’s been made into a film and, in general, the viewing pleasure is often a bit of a let-down (and sometimes it’s a lot of a let-down). Dare I risk going to see this? How could they capture the feelings and emotions that the story had raised in me? How could they make it as powerful as the story was? Only one way to find out.

On Saturday evening, at 9pm, I gathered up a little band of mates - who’d I been regaling for the past hour about how good the story was - and we went into the screening. Martin introduced it, the lights went down and the film started. At 9.20pm, I left the screening room on my own and felt the need to get a breath of fresh air. You see, the film did work. Not quite in the same way as the story had, but it did enthral me, it did raise powerful emotions in me and it was upsetting in parts. I went back to find my friends and spent the remainder of the weekend telling everyone who’d listen that the short film of “Later” was very, very good indeed.

- warning, here may be spoilers -

According to the Nimble Pictures website (the production entity behind this mini-masterpiece) “Later” is the story of Richard and Rachel, a young couple who are deeply in love. Their life together is torn apart when, on the way to a party, Rachel is killed in a tragic accident. Unable to cope with the idea that he’s now alone, Richard decides that death doesn’t have to be the end of everything.

Richard (Neil Newbon) and Rachel (Nessa Wrafter) meet at a party

By their very nature, many low-budget films (especially short ones) are acting rather than action driven and so they stand and fall on performance. In the case of “Later”, they picked superbly well as the acting is top notch. Neil Newbon plays Richard and appears in virtually every shot, doing most of his acting with expression - he conveys enough emotion that the audience not only sympathises with him but empathises too. Equally at ease whether still - reflecting in the car at the beginning - or caught amid violent movement - earlier in the car or much later, with spade in hand - he’s never less than watchable. As Rachel, Nessa Wrafter arguably has the more difficult role - with much less screentime, she has to make her character memorable enough for us to believe in what Richard does and she achieves this admirably. Her Rachel is beautiful and smart and loving and so when she does get hurt, we feel Richard’s pain because we want her to live. We want them to be together. And that, essentially, is the crux of the whole film.

Rachel & Richard, in the bedroom

It’d be difficult to pick a “best” scene, with regards to the performances, but since tying a tie is very important in the short story, I’ll go with that one. Getting ready for the party, Richard can’t knot his tie and is getting frustrated when Rachel comes into the bedroom, clad in a towel. Whilst kissing him, we’re aware of movement and she steps back - having knotted the tie perfectly - says her “later…” line and things move forward. In that sequence, we know as much as we need to about the characters, we understand them (hell, we’ve even been them at some point) and the actors play off each other perfectly. There’s also a nice little visual trick, a beautifully observed moment where the camera pans across Rachel’s upper arm and focuses on the beads of water that have escaped the towel.

Richard bathes (for reasons I can't go into for fear of spoilage) in a wordless sequence that highlights Neil Newbon's superb acting

The cinematography, by Luke Bryant, is gorgeous with a lovely muted palete and - in the couple sequences at least - a real warmth to the image that you don’t often find with DV (it was shot using a RED HD camera). The music - by Nate Connelly - is nicely understated but insistent and the editing, by Ben Jordan, keeps everything moving nicely. Often, with low budget films, the editing is where things have a tendency to fall down (shots linger too long, or are cut too quicky) but Jordan and Duric seem to know precisely how long everything should remain on screen for.

Again, without wanting to throw in too many spoilers, there’s only one major make-up effect - by Natalie Guest - but it’s so shocking to see it that (in the screening I attended, at least) it drew a gasp. A prosthetic piece, it adds a real sense of poignancy to a scene that’s already difficult enough to watch. According to the director, he kept the actors apart when the scene was shot, so that Neil wouldn’t know how Nessa would look, making his reaction all the more believeable. And it does work, his stunned and wordless expression an extension of the audiences own.

Pulling all of this together is writer & director Simon Duric and he’s done a superb job, in both adapting the short story and making it work so well and so movingly as a film.

Simon started out in the small press, getting his break with Andy Cox at TTA Press (a role Andy has performed for a lot of those writers and artists amongst us - in my case, his zine “The Fix” opened up a whole new world in 1999) and was nominated for Best Artist in the 2001 British Fantasy Society awards. Finding work as a storyboard artist, he got in touch with Michael Marshall Smith “and I cheekily asked him if he'd be willing to let me try and adapt one of his short stories into a short film. He asked which one, I said LATER.” Writing his first draft overnight, Smith liked it enough to let Simon carry on and the film was eventually shot over four days (though it’s so polished, it certainly doesn’t look like it).

At present, the film is on the festival circuit, premiering in 2011 at the Fantastik Film Festival in Lund, Sweden and it was also invited to the Sitges Film Festival in Barcelona (where it was nominated for a Melies D'argent award). Beyond that, who knows? With the market for short films being what it is - anyone remember Channel Four’s “Shooting Gallery” strand, which sadly appears to have bitten the dust - there are no plans for “Later” other than being a terrific calling card for all involved.

Personally, I think the film deserves a bigger audience and I hope this little review/essay has inspired you enough to want to watch it. Maybe if you're reading this and are interested in seeing it, you could perhaps email Nimble Pictures at info@nimblepictures.co.uk and show your support.
(Interesestingly, they also have “Dark Hollow” in development, based on the Brian Keene novel, with a screenplay from my friend Paul Finch to be directed by Paul Campion, ie, the writer and director behind “The Devil’s Rock”).

And just to finish on a high - how about Rachel’s line? The line that made the short for me and is delivered so wonderfully by Nessa Wrafter in the film? Here it is, in it’s entirety:

“Later,” she said, smiling in a way that showed she meant it. “Later, and for a long time, my man.”

Track this film down, it’s well worth a look and very highly recommended.

(I'd like to thank Elisabeth Pinto, the producer of the film and owner of Nimble Pictures, who graciously passed my "well done!" email on to Simon Duric.  I'd also like to thank Simon for both answering my email and his patience and good humour with my questions and queries thereafter )

all photographs are (c) Nimble Pictures, used with permission