Category archives: Dreadful Thoughts
Dreadful Thoughts Story Club 16: Pigeons from Hell
Right. It has been pointed out to me, by morbid sorts, that the last two authors this club has fixed its gorgon-like gaze on both exited our weary world by means of suicide. Charlotte Perkins Gilman deciding on an overdose… continue reading »
Dreadful Thoughts: A Dim Yellow Blur That Might Have Been a Face
After flirting (coquettishly) with psychological/feminist/political creepiness during our last club outing, Dreadful Thoughts 16 steels itself to feast on a bloody chunk of visceral, traditional horror.1 To serve up the gore-drenched goods, we turn to the sword-wielding titan that was… continue reading »
Dreadful Thoughts Story Club 15: The Yellow Wallpaper
Right. Littlest one curled up in bed with much-loved teddy and Minnie Mouse blanket? Check. Tasty mid-range Merlot decanting on the worktop? Check. Curry bubbling away satisfactorily? Check. Tube of Pringles on standby (in case of vino-induced munchies)? Check. The… continue reading »
Dreadful Thoughts: The Pattern is Torturing
Now that we’re knee-deep in winter – that “direful monster” who withers all in silence, freezes up frail life and snot-encrusts the populace – it might be uplifting to turn our thoughts to warm & fuzzy things. Like death, horror,… continue reading »
Dreadful Thoughts: The Abysmally Unexpected & Grotesquely Unbelievable
January – as the fella said – is a gelid month. A hiemal, brumal, dismal and tenebrous month. A month when the dankest and most abysmal recesses of the human mind kick into hideous half-life. Spewing forth noxious brain-fumes and… continue reading »
Dreadful Thoughts Story Club 13: The Nature of the Evidence
Suffragette. Modernist innovator. Paddler in the turbulent “stream of consciousness” (a phrase she allegedly coined). May Sinclair was once “one of the most successful and widely known of British women novelists”. And then? Disappearance down that well-trodden path into obscurity.… continue reading »
Dreadful Thoughts: Edward, There’s Something in the Bed
Right. Enough of this summer (such as it is) lark. Enough flip-flopping about suggestively licking 99s. Enough gambolling through meadows gaily tossing rose petals. The days are shortening and the nights will soon be growing long. Time to get back… continue reading »
