In Search of Perdition

 Well, it's been a long while since I posted on here which is very remiss of me! Since I last posted I have had the good fortune to have been a finalist for the Best Collection at the British Fantasy Awards 2024. I did not win on this occasion but it is brilliant to have made it to the last five!  I have also had a short story acceptance for the superb anthology Blood in the Bricks which is being launched by NewCon Press at World FantasyCon in October this year. I shall endeavour to populate this website more often in the future. For now, know that I am still alive and kicking!

  Last year I had a great time at Chillercon hanging out with my horror mates. One evening, a few of us were hanging out in the hotel lobby chatting away having had a drink or three. I can't quite remember how but we started to play a game which has stuck with me to this day. Below is a fictional re-imagining of that game undertaken by different players. Enjoy! Oh, and other than that conversation with friends, please remember that  is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Fourteen   by Phil Sloman   Seaside rain is different to rain elsewhere in that it is almost always unwanted. At the beach, the expectation is of sun-kissed sands covered with happy bathers eager to buy overpriced ice-cream which drips down the sides of cheap brown cones. All the while, gulls call raucously from above. When the rains come none of that is possible – except the gulls –and the air of holiday and eternal joy is...

 FantasyCon is an annual highlight for me. It's a chance for me to catch up with writing buddies, buy books, and generally immerse myself in the UK horror writing scene. My creative juices always feel recharged afterwards even if my bank balance is lighter and my need for sleep increased ten-fold! This year, FantasyCon is being held in Birmingham at the Leonardo Royal Hotel from 15 to 17 September. I'm delighted to be sharing a panel on the Saturday afternoon at 3pm with Kat Day (Moderator), Ramsey Campbell, Philip Fracassi, and Raven Dane. The panel is called Writing 21st Century Horror and the blurb says "What are the new techniques and innovations in Horror? Is there a new scare? How does the tradition of horror writing help us develop new stories and new ideas? Join our panel to discuss and pick up some reading recommendations." I also have a reading slot at 5pm on the Saturday alongside Trip Galey and Ruth EJ Booth. Hopefully I'll see a few folks there. If yo...

There's always a nervy period as a writer when you put your work out there. The doubts creep in. Is it good enough? Will people like it?  Well, the first review is in ahead of the official launch date for No Happily Ever After on Friday 26 May. Absolutely delighted with it.  " Phil Sloman has put together a truly wonderful collection here. Proper effortless storytelling with a genuine heart to create something different." Full review here:  No Happily Ever After by Phil Sloman | Goodreads Definitely a nice addition to a great weekend.

No Happily Ever After cover reveal After a hiatus from writing, I decided I really should get back into the saddle and get some words out there. Over the past few months I have been pulling together a few of my short stories and writing a couple of new ones. All these will be part of a short collection of stories which I will be releasing in May 2023 under the title No Happily Ever After. In anticipation, here is a sneak look at the fabulous cover using art by Warm_Tail.    

I got older today. As a little gift to folks, below is my short story The Man Who Fed The Foxes for your enjoyment which can be found in my collection Broken on the Inside or here if you are in the US . The man who fed the foxes by Phil Sloman   Paul Wilson sat alert on the decking, peering into the gloom. Even if the sun had been high in the sky rather than cresting the horizon, as it currently was, there wouldn’t be much to see. An overgrown garden in need of an industrial lawnmower and a team of willing volunteers. At the end stood a broken greenhouse, barely five years old yet virtually forgotten, the glass fractured and smeared the colour of pond scum by a colony of algae. A couple of abandoned compost bins nestled beside it, like giant salt and pepper shakers, overflowing and surrounded by flowering weeds. His borders, which had been so immaculate in a former life, flourishing with begonias, tulips and carefully cultivated roses, were now clogged with bindweed, nettles...