Simon Spanton
@simonguy.bsky.social
"I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself."
Wandering. Wondering. Freelancing. Often acquiring and editing SFFH for Angry Robot Books. Live in Edinburgh. Views my own and independent of my employers. Photos my own unless otherwise etc.
Wandering. Wondering. Freelancing. Often acquiring and editing SFFH for Angry Robot Books. Live in Edinburgh. Views my own and independent of my employers. Photos my own unless otherwise etc.
"I took advantage of the librarian's distraction to hide The Book of Sand on one of the library's damp shelves; I tried not to notice how high up, or how far from the door.
I now feel a little better, but I refuse to even walk down the street the library's on."
I now feel a little better, but I refuse to even walk down the street the library's on."
November 26, 2025 at 2:16 PM
"I took advantage of the librarian's distraction to hide The Book of Sand on one of the library's damp shelves; I tried not to notice how high up, or how far from the door.
I now feel a little better, but I refuse to even walk down the street the library's on."
I now feel a little better, but I refuse to even walk down the street the library's on."
My youngest son has sent me photographic evidence of an abomination.
November 26, 2025 at 9:31 AM
My youngest son has sent me photographic evidence of an abomination.
"you'll be visited by three spirits"
the three spirits:
the three spirits:
November 25, 2025 at 10:16 PM
"you'll be visited by three spirits"
the three spirits:
the three spirits:
"The sun no longer shone with the whiteness of its prime, but was dim and tarnished as if with a vapor of blood. New stars without number had declared themselves in the heavens, and the shadows of the infinite had fallen closer. And out of the shadows, the older gods had returned to man..."
November 25, 2025 at 12:31 PM
"The sun no longer shone with the whiteness of its prime, but was dim and tarnished as if with a vapor of blood. New stars without number had declared themselves in the heavens, and the shadows of the infinite had fallen closer. And out of the shadows, the older gods had returned to man..."
"The cold thunderous rains of autumn washed him, or he wove a crown of flame-coloured leaves and stood in the breathless sharp air listening to skies gone clangorous with the calls of departing birds."
Happy birthday, Poul Anderson.
Happy birthday, Poul Anderson.
November 25, 2025 at 11:36 AM
"The cold thunderous rains of autumn washed him, or he wove a crown of flame-coloured leaves and stood in the breathless sharp air listening to skies gone clangorous with the calls of departing birds."
Happy birthday, Poul Anderson.
Happy birthday, Poul Anderson.
Dog Emperor of Loon.
November 24, 2025 at 7:09 PM
Dog Emperor of Loon.
Happy birthday Billy Connolly.
Seen here, before the banana boots, with Gerry Rafferty in The Humblebums.
Seen here, before the banana boots, with Gerry Rafferty in The Humblebums.
November 24, 2025 at 5:28 PM
Happy birthday Billy Connolly.
Seen here, before the banana boots, with Gerry Rafferty in The Humblebums.
Seen here, before the banana boots, with Gerry Rafferty in The Humblebums.
"The Golden Herm stood in the green wood.
The wood is, of course, nowhere near Athens; the script is a positive maze of false leads. The wood is really located somewhere in the English midlands, possibly near Bletchley, where the great decoding machine was sited."
The wood is, of course, nowhere near Athens; the script is a positive maze of false leads. The wood is really located somewhere in the English midlands, possibly near Bletchley, where the great decoding machine was sited."
November 24, 2025 at 4:22 PM
"The Golden Herm stood in the green wood.
The wood is, of course, nowhere near Athens; the script is a positive maze of false leads. The wood is really located somewhere in the English midlands, possibly near Bletchley, where the great decoding machine was sited."
The wood is, of course, nowhere near Athens; the script is a positive maze of false leads. The wood is really located somewhere in the English midlands, possibly near Bletchley, where the great decoding machine was sited."
"Noon dominated sea and sky—even the white line of Cannes, five miles off, had faded to a mirage of what was fresh and cool; a robin-breasted sailing boat pulled in behind it a strand from the outer, darker sea."
November 24, 2025 at 10:28 AM
"Noon dominated sea and sky—even the white line of Cannes, five miles off, had faded to a mirage of what was fresh and cool; a robin-breasted sailing boat pulled in behind it a strand from the outer, darker sea."
Oh for goodness' sake.
November 23, 2025 at 7:59 PM
Oh for goodness' sake.
"There was a square room with a deep old bay window and a stone fireplace in which a fire of juniper logs burned lazily. It was wainscoted in walnut and had a frieze of faded damask above the panelling. The ceiling was high and remote. There was a smell of cold sea."
November 23, 2025 at 7:31 PM
"There was a square room with a deep old bay window and a stone fireplace in which a fire of juniper logs burned lazily. It was wainscoted in walnut and had a frieze of faded damask above the panelling. The ceiling was high and remote. There was a smell of cold sea."
Edinburgh or Shield Generator Complex on the Forest Moon of Endor?
November 23, 2025 at 11:59 AM
Edinburgh or Shield Generator Complex on the Forest Moon of Endor?
This morning's walk, the dog breaking the shadow.
November 22, 2025 at 9:15 PM
This morning's walk, the dog breaking the shadow.
"The seventh night, I slept in Wick's quarters, and Mord, far above, slept over us, sprawled across the sea of loam and debris that covered the Balcony Cliffs. We experienced his breathing as a haunted depth charge that tumbled down through the layers, the beams..."
@jeffvandermeer.bsky.social
@jeffvandermeer.bsky.social
November 22, 2025 at 9:38 AM
"The seventh night, I slept in Wick's quarters, and Mord, far above, slept over us, sprawled across the sea of loam and debris that covered the Balcony Cliffs. We experienced his breathing as a haunted depth charge that tumbled down through the layers, the beams..."
@jeffvandermeer.bsky.social
@jeffvandermeer.bsky.social
"The eccentric lives and dramatic deaths of the martyrs, the writings of the ancient monastics with their hothouse odours of ardent lust for God, and even those parts of the holy scriptures that were not as safe as milk pudding or else as dry as dust, had all been shoved into the cupboard..."
November 21, 2025 at 3:11 PM
"The eccentric lives and dramatic deaths of the martyrs, the writings of the ancient monastics with their hothouse odours of ardent lust for God, and even those parts of the holy scriptures that were not as safe as milk pudding or else as dry as dust, had all been shoved into the cupboard..."
Reskeet with a time you looked cool.
November 20, 2025 at 8:32 PM
Reskeet with a time you looked cool.
Clearing up after tea music.
November 20, 2025 at 8:04 PM
Clearing up after tea music.
The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies as Discovered by the Reverend Robert Kirk in his Various Sojourns in the Fabled Realms of Open Source.
November 20, 2025 at 12:39 PM
The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies as Discovered by the Reverend Robert Kirk in his Various Sojourns in the Fabled Realms of Open Source.
Cooking tea music.
November 19, 2025 at 5:58 PM
Cooking tea music.
"The woman stood in the middle of the floor. She was dressed in white and had white hair. She opened her eyes with a small stick, and the upper eyelid fell back over her head like a hat.
'I am two hundred and ninety winters,' she said, 'and I serve nine masters...'"
'I am two hundred and ninety winters,' she said, 'and I serve nine masters...'"
November 19, 2025 at 4:05 PM
"The woman stood in the middle of the floor. She was dressed in white and had white hair. She opened her eyes with a small stick, and the upper eyelid fell back over her head like a hat.
'I am two hundred and ninety winters,' she said, 'and I serve nine masters...'"
'I am two hundred and ninety winters,' she said, 'and I serve nine masters...'"
"Patricia McKillip was able to pack into two hundred pages what some other writers need three or more books to say."
Pat Cadigan
Pat Cadigan
November 19, 2025 at 12:19 PM
"Patricia McKillip was able to pack into two hundred pages what some other writers need three or more books to say."
Pat Cadigan
Pat Cadigan
Even the scrubby corners of winter allotments.
And their genre fiction equivalents.
And their genre fiction equivalents.
November 19, 2025 at 10:03 AM
Even the scrubby corners of winter allotments.
And their genre fiction equivalents.
And their genre fiction equivalents.