Three sets of writers’ critique groups can shoulder the blame for sculpting these tales. The leading culprits are the British Science Fiction Association Orbiter #2 group members including David Curl, Frances Gow, John Keane, Gillian Rooke, Keith Walker and Mjke Wood. Also from the BSFA, writer and long-time encourager is Mark Iles.
In my own city, the Chester Writer’s Circle have been irresponsibly leading me on and luckily suggested View From should be first person, present. Thanks Hilary, it works.
Further afield, I frequent a writing retreat at Limnisa on the sparsely populated and richly magical peninsular of Methana, Greece. The international set of writers, filmmakers and artists that gather there, who make a captive audience for my yarns, and continue to encourage and inspire long after I’ve sailed away.
My publishers Jim and Zetta Brown along with their editors, including Billye Johnson have unflinching faith in my entertainment and what-if values. I am more grateful than they realise for the opportunity to gather these stories from the wilds of out-of-print lost worlds, and those recently crafted, into a single volume.
My wife, Gaynor, I thank her for suggesting the title to Accident Waiting To Happen although I’ve a sneaky suspicion she was referring to me.
My greatest source of both inspiration and criticism are my grandkids. Such as infant
Nathan: Pop, can you sing us that werewolf song for bedtime?
Me: Sorry, I don’t know a werewolf song.
Nathan: You know, the one with the scary forest?
Me: I’ll sing a selection. Close your eyes.
**halfway through my repertoire**
Nathan: That’s it, Pop, the Teddy Bear’s Picnic.
Then Amy who wants a picture book like the Timmy the Tornado one I created for Nathan, but on rainbows because what else could be more wondrous made from rain and sunshine at the same time? Liddie-Ann, who tolerates my philosophy-through-jokes such as the gardener leaning on his gate when the vicar stops by and says while admiring the blooms. “Isn’t is marvellous what God and Man can do together?” To which the gardener replies, “Ah, yes, but you should have seen it when ee ‘ad it all to his self!” Charlotte who likes wind and I’ve yet to whip up a picture story book for one so breathless.
The first to crack me up was Oliver, who at 3 instructed me to close the top stairgate. “But why,” I said, “we’re on our way down?” “To stop the crocodiles coming down, silly.”
That’s me. Silly. We are a product of Nature and environment including you, the readers, and I acknowledge you all.