About

I'm a writer of novels, short stories, poetry and weekly journal entries. Some notable works include: Organ, Bulldog and A Brief Account of an Unfortunate Packet of Crisps.

In the real world, I work with a dog rescue charity to rehab and rehome strays and homeless dogs. Sometimes I write posts regarding certain aspects of that life but more-so its another calling I found myself answering too eagerly. Updates on this work can be found in my weekly journals.

After years of writing - and it has been years, self-publishing and blogging, this site has become a home for my fiction and other works that don't fit into a neat category.

Here you'll find serialised novels, standalone stories, poems and the occasional rambling thought on life by way of a journal entry. They are all free and as long as they exist on this site, my work will continue to be free. Think of this site like a library you don't want to enter or stay in because it's in a weird part of town, but still one that has some cool books to read.

Find a free chair, shut the door before the cat gets out and enjoy your stay.

Elsewhere:

BlueSky - https://bsky.app/profile/johnjanderson.bsky.social

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100094711507055

Popular posts from this blog

Celebrate Every Victory.

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Changing things up this week, I am going to discuss the rescue work that pays the bills before anything else literary or personal. In case you missed it, writing doesn't pay the bills - ask a million indie writers and you will hear the same - so during the week I work at an animal rescue rehabilitating and rehoming abandoned dogs. One such dog is a big girl called Roo, she has been in the rescue for almost three years and today Roo is finally going to a home that wants her and loves her. Adoptions like this really make the work easier on days when it feels like an uphill battle. Otherwise the past week has seen huge amounts of progress for the dogs, I finally managed to harness and walk both Howie and Stanley - two particularly complicated boys who need a bit more patience. They have both enjoyed my company for the majority of my time at LU, but this week was a great reminder of what patience and observation does for these relationships. It has been a busy month or two, we have lot...
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Corpse Avoidance - Poem

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Some time ago I took on the role, burying the dead and scattering the bones. It never dawned on me that I might come unstuck, or that these tools in hand would leave me here. We buried another baby. Second one this week. Fuck. Give me the bottle, a lunchtime drink. It’s worth it for the sorrow, it can drown with the fizz. Tipsy digging holes, it makes it seem so childish. The laughing and the smiling in the most sinister of worlds. Christ. I wish I left that last pint, It went straight through my head. I can’t see straight on the drive back, judgement from the waiting dead. Shit. I feel the smoke hitting me, the moving scenes and shaking woods. Trees drifting sideways, a river of wonderful mess. It would take an inhale and a puff to choke my chest. Don’t worry about the afternoon. We've got all tomorrow to dig. Exhale with me you dead folk. Drink and smoke again.
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A Brief Account of an Unfortunate Packet of Crisps

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Whatever really happened didn’t matter in the end, not in the great scheme of things. Daily life went on before, and it certainly went on after – albeit a tad more fantastical. But whether the story you are about to read seems strange, I must inform you with the utmost sincerity that despite one death, one thrown out police report and a burial of a story from all government bodies, a day like the day a packet of crisps became sentient will never be seen again. Did the crinkling of the shiny greasy foil make enough noise to wake them up, perhaps it was the chemicals being tested in the new formula for preparing the potato products. One thing was evident though as the first individual crisp woke from non-existence into complete sentience, the world got just a pinch weirder. “Where am I?” One crisp asked. “Who said that?” another answered. This went back and forth between the thirty or so dried snacks for a while longer than it might have with humans. But give them a break, this was...
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