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Digging Graves

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Bulldog 2: And Dead Mouths Open

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John-J Anderson

John-J is an author whose work slices deep into the human condition, blending horror, poetry, and raw lived experience. He is the five-star-reviewed mind behind Organ, a visceral journey into biological horror; Digging Graves, a haunting collection of poetry and short stories drawn from his real-life years working as a gravedigger; and Bulldog: Too Many Monsters, a dystopian military horror that blurs the line between the brutal and the surreal.

With over 42 countries stamped into his passport, John-J draws on a global palette of cultures, myths, and human encounters to inform his storytelling. A committed vegan and full-time animal rescuer, he spends his days rehabilitating and rehoming stray and abused dogs—compassion that stands in stark contrast to the darkness he explores in his fiction.

Whether excavating fear or unearthing truth, John-J writes with a voice forged from soil, blood, and hard-earned empathy.

Where did the photography and the poetry go?

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Did I forget that I have more than one outlet? Maybe. I released an entire book of poetry, insert shameless plug here;  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Digging-Graves-Poems-Experiences-Digger-ebook/dp/B0DNXVKHWQ I loved writing that book. The poems had been written years before when I was working in a cemetery. It was all I did to keep the demons and dark thoughts that line of work brings at bay. When I left I collected them, and some short experiences, and placed them into a neat little morning commute book. It was great. Outside of my first book, Organ, this collection might be my favourite piece of work I have written to date.  So why did I stop writing poetry? Perhaps I was distracted by work, but that feels like a cop out. I think in reality I just dove too greedily and too deep into extended fiction instead of taking a break. I could have been placing some more poetry on the fire for those warm wintery nights away from the dark creatures and worlds that I create. Going through ...
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Always Hungry

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 It might just be the single greatest question I am yet to find an answer to in life. As much as I write, as often as I write and as often as I can publish books myself. Will that hunger to have my work recognised ever be satiated? (Brief aside. I am publishing via Amazon. Whether that holds more weight in my own personal thoughts on achievement or not, I have yet to cross that bridge in my mind.) This feels against every notion that I hold as my personal philosophy. I always tell myself that "I cant control what happens to me or what people believe about me, so why let that affect how I react to these things". But in reality I am my greatest enemy. I write and get satisfied or furious as myself for the outcome. With books like Organ, I loved the effort. The struggle was real to get my story finished and my first novel published. Seeing it in printed form and physically holding my work in my hand was a massive moment for me.  And yet.  I cant douse this fire that I am cha...
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