Matt Dovey is very tall, very British, and most likely drinking a cup of tea right now. His surname rhymes with “Dopey”, but any other similarities to the dwarf are purely coincidental. He has a scar on his arm where the giant squid caught him with its beak as it finally won free and slipped back into the terrible depths. He now lives in a quiet market town in rural England with his wife & three children, and still struggles to express his delight in this wonderful arrangement.
He does boring stuff with computers for a living. He got into writing because he thought it'd pay well and the world would be falling over itself to read his genius; he has since been thoroughly disavowed of both notions. He is a member of the Codex Writers Group, the Villa Diodati Writers Group, and an associate editor (slush monkey) at PodCastle. He sometimes reads other people's stories out loud, too.
When he's not writing, he's probably homebrewing wine, mucking about with his camera, or running around a field with a pretend sword and a silly accent. Writing has stolen all his computer game time, though, and adult life has stolen all the money he used to spend in Games Workshop.
He has presently completed 36 consecutive orbits of the sun (a personal best) and hopes to continue extending this record. He still hasn't read The Shepherd's Crown because he can't bring himself to live in a world where there are no new Discworld books awaiting him.
Should you care to contact the author, you may email him at firstname.lastname@example.org. He is perenially terrible at replying to emails, though, so please don't take it personally when it takes weeks for him to reply. He promises he will feel guilty about it the entire time.
Comprising bios of various lengths, high resolution photos (click through or Save Link As for the full size photo; smaller files are displayed here) and a complete bibliography of published fiction. All content in this section may be used freely.
Matt Dovey is a professional writer of short science fiction & fantasy. 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 →
There weren't no good way to say Colin, mate, this is shit, you don't deserve it, but we bloody love you and we'll get through it, alright? Cos no matter how you said it his head was too full of angry buzzing to hear it.
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Mark's next door neighbour and business partner Pat kept telling him that power flowed through his veins. He took a breath and closed his eyes, trying to will the power back out again and into the ash wand in his outstretched hand. He pointed it at Pat's door. A narrow beam of blue light squeezed out of the end and hit the lock. Nothing happened. Sighing, he folded the wand and put it in his pocket. He took out his key and let himself into her house.
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But shit Hailey looked good in that dress: dark sequins and holo-vertices, the thin green lines sharp against the sheen of her black skin and juddering with the heavy beats that thumped the air.