John-J Anderson

Growing Boy Mum always called me her growing baby boy. If only she knew how right she had been. I learned early on that something was off. The way my nails grew back was something unseen. But the parlour trick was not stopping there. The limited injuries kept both parents aware. Well, the doctors deemed me fit. Medically magnificent above it all. 15 years later and the growing boy still just that. But now almost six feet tall. - So, when Dad up and left, for this reason or that cause. I picked up the pieces. Bills began to climb. I could always tell the bad letters just from Mums nervous creases. Our family deserved better. Dad leaving would not break us. It was unheard of to think aloud. To speak it would have been insane. But what gifts can I give my family. When I am the boy who feels no pain. - The search for answers led me into the dark. To the parts of the world that hide in shame. But with the ticking clock of homeward troubles rol...

By now you've had a chance to read the entirety of Organ, the first full length novel I completed and published (self) online - I hope you enjoyed it and took something away to remember. Well, now that its behind us both and secured in the recesses of its own shadow I thought it would be cathartic to have a discussion on the story behind Organ. Dig into the bones of the beast and let Oscar Rubens live on in exploratory surgery, lets unravel Organ and see what falls out. Check out the image to the right, this was the original design my little brother - and creative genius, seriously this boy is going to be iconic in the media industry. I asked him to sketch up something a child might draw for his broken family, detailing small elements of Oscars life - including the planes his father would help him spot and the deep connection with his mother. Samuel, my brother, nailed the style and age range for the young Oscar Rubens art style. I think he still has the original, but here is the f...

"It begins in our familiar flesh. Soft, raw and unseen, the rot threading through our organs like whispered sin.  But it never stays buried. It creeps outward, into voices, into glances, into the dreams of those we love, until their hearts pulse with the same quiet corruption." - Unknown Creeping in through her merriment at the rebirth of her formerly aborted life, not a month since her arrival, Katie had become feeling sicker and sicker as the weeks recently past. Headaches became more frequent, at first manageable with painkillers, but now her body felt weaker, and the signs all pointed to an unwanted trip to a doctor’s office. Something she was not entirely keen on revisiting anytime soon. “Katie Hanley” the receptionist called out to her as she sat in the waiting room flicking through texts from Stanley, they had broken up a week after their encounter, but it ended well, and she could smile remembering that first night she regained herself. It was a private doctors office...

Remember when you had no worries. Sure you might have thought about school. You might have had troubles at home. But between thirteen and fifteen, it was the perfect moment. We lived outside, We spent our days and nights exploring our small kingdoms that started and ended at town borders. We took the bus or the train, sometimes rode our bikes.  We could walk to the fields and make a fort. We could take a football and play anywhere, it was all ours to play on.  Remember when you had no expectations.  You didn't care or think about jobs.  You might have thought about girls and you might have even had a girlfriend.  But between thirteen and fifteen, it was the perfect time.  We smoked weed and cigarettes for the first time.  We drank our first beers and go giggly silly drunk.  We got the nerve to test out pubs, we danced at house parties until we puked. We had our first kiss, and some even more.  We fought and cried thinking thi...