home about stories

Matt Dovey

9:15pm, 23rd August 2016

Anatomy of a Golden Pen: Conflict

It took me an embarassingly long time to work this out: conflict is everything.

Do you know what happened to the first story I wrote once I worked it out? When I first focused on deliberately working it into every paragraph? It won WotF.

If you only ever take one piece of advice from me, take this: you need more conflict.

Continue reading → (comments)

TAGS: Anatomy of a Golden Pen, wotf32


5:00pm, 23rd May 2016

Anatomy of a Golden Pen: Research

Two of the young spinners in Catawba Cotton Mills. Newton, N.C., 1908; image in the public domainBeing a writer, I'm full of self-importance and arrogantly believe everyone wants to read pages and pages of nonsense from me. As such, I'm going to start a series about my Golden Pen story from Writers of the Future volume 32, Squalor & Sympathy, dissecting it from various angles.

First up: all the historical accuracies and references in the story.

Continue reading → (comments)

TAGS: Anatomy of a Golden Pen, wotf32


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

I have left you a snack on your bedside table. Open your mouth, and chew carefully.

Audio Recording Left by the CEO of the Ranvannian Colony to Her Daughter, on the Survival Imperative of Maximising Profits

Subscribe

Sign up to the newsletter:

or subscribe with RSS.

Narrations

Each morning at precisely seven, Georges, famulus to Magus Hugarth Madswom, stabbed his master in the heart. It was a fairly complicated affair as the linens needed to be spared staining and Georges had to make the thrust quickly, lest his master wake up and become angry with him for failing in his duties. He had suggested abjuring the sheets against such stains, but his master claimed that doing so also meant his sweat would pool about his body during the night rather than being absorbed by the sheets, and Georges' master refused to wake up stinking and slimy. So, no abjurations.

The Masochist's Assistant by Auston Habershaw
PodCastle #586

Blog

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

Twitter

Facebook

Random Story

Anna stared up at Sally. Her hair and skin were so pale as to be almost white, especially in the weak sunlight of the factory. She was only twenty-two, Anna knew, only five years older than Anna herself, but she looked worn through, like milk watered down too thin.

Squalor & Sympathy