home about stories

Matt Dovey

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


11:53pm, 8th December 2015

First-and-a-Half Person

Like all right-minded people, I think the second person is a pretentious and wanky way to tell a story, so I hate myself when a story ends up written that way. But it's ok! I've figured out I'm not really writing second person at all.

Continue reading → (comments)

TAGS: writing


Search

About

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 →

Latest Story

"Sorry sir," said the Moderator. "Pain is easier to invoke, and longer lasting. Have a happy day!"

Consequences of a Statistical Approach Towards a Utilitarian Utopia: A Selection of Potential Outcomes

Subscribe

Sign up to the newsletter:

or subscribe with RSS.

Narrations

Last night, I dreamt of the drowned man again.

It starts with a murmur. A prayer, slithering through a sleeping shipmate's lips. Or perhaps a confession, or a memory caught in the fog of the ghostly hours before dawn. It lingers little down here, in the stale air heavy with the stench of urine and unwashed bodies. Soon it rises higher, amidst the sails and the riggings, hungry for fresh air. Then comes the scratching against the ship's hull. Grip by grip, claw-like hands dig into the wood dragging upwards God knows what.

Drowned Man's Kiss by Christine Lucas
Tales to Terrify #409

Blog

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

Twitter

Facebook

Random Story

The oversized leather armchair all but swallowed Michael. The receptionist had asked him to sit in one of the plainer chairs, near the offices, but today was a day for rebellions.

Copywrong