home about stories

Matt Dovey

6:00pm, 11th March 2016

A Debutante in the Underworld

Skeleton, dancingThis cover of New Order's Blue Monday done with instruments from 1933 is haunting my mind, and I find myself writing fanfiction for a cover song. Listen to it as you read.

Continue reading → (comments)

TAGS: nonsense


10:10am, 16th December 2015

Techromancy: A Definition in Story

There is an art, a delicate gift, to the act of bringing dead technology back to life. It is an art I know well. Let me tell you of it.

Continue reading → (comments)

TAGS: nonsense


9:07pm, 4th November 2015

The Pot of Life Eternal

It can be tough to peak early in your career, and know that it's all downhill from here, but sometimes you've just gotta take what the fates deal you. Will I ever hit the heady heights of local press again? Is this my sole moment in the blinding sunlight of Lincolnshire gossip?

Continue reading → (comments)

TAGS: nonsense


Search

About

Matt Dovey is a writer of short speculative fiction. He is very tall, very British, and probably drinking a cup of tea right now. His surname rhymes with “Dopey”, but any other similarities to the dwarf are purely coincidental. More →

Latest Story

You're not a person, they say, circling. You're one of Them. From the other side.

They Say

Subscribe

Subscribe with RSS.

Narrations

Every morning I harvested the most luscious blooms from the gardens for display in the showroom. Today the quince blazed with bright orange blossom, so I cut a few twigs. As I carried them inside, I sniffed the flowers to check the engineered pheromones. A wave of longing overtook me: a sudden urge to do something mischievous and subversive.

The Language of Flowers by Ian Creasey
StarShipSofa #542

Blog

Anatomy of a Golden Pen apology appearance award Dublin2019 fermi paradox free Glasgow2024 harm homebrew interview lessons new story news nonsense podcast politics responsibilities retrospective roundup science science fiction waffle wotf32 writing

Random Story

Sure enough, a white light exploded into the room, extinguishing the fire trap and bursting every cursed weasel, pop, pop, pop, like potatoes on the fire when you hadn't pierced their skins.

How I Became Coruscating Queen of All the Realms, Pierced the Obsidian Night, Destroyed a Legendary Sword, and Saved My Heart's True Love