potential space fm cover web version

Space FM is GO!

On one of the days of Christmas my true love sent to me a reasonably priced eBook short on Amazon… let’s just pretend that scans.

Space FM is officially available for download as an Amazon exclusive. Cheaper than a poncy cup of coffee, more enjoyable than a family bag of Skittles and with more hard facts than a copy of the Daily Mail it’s everything you want and more. Plus you can read it in a day, so for all of you online types whose attention span has been beaten into bloody submission by a flailing mass of cat pictures, memes and comedic Tweets this is some proper writing you really can make it through.

As ever I need you, you glorious; beautiful, sweet smelling, perfectly coiffured, intelligent and goddamn sexy bastards to help me out by spreading the good word, writing (nice) reviews on all the usual sites. Buying copies for your nearest and dearest and generally being all that you can be. And when you’ve done all of that you can look to your left and sign up to my newsletter too, so you never miss out on the words I so lovingly craft for the sole purpose of pumping them into your eyeballs and filling your brains with joy.

There’s more coming from me next year too with some very different works in progress. Including a potential poetic anthology, a full length novel and even the vague possibility of some multimedia collaborative goodness. So stay tuned you glorious bastards.


No Cure for Shell Shock

Loathe to try and give background on poetry given that everyone will get from it what they’ll get and any message I have should be contained in the verse. But, as you lose a lot of context online when you don’t (necessarily) know the author and can’t hear a reading I will say that this isn’t written for the love of Jesus. I’m Agnostic at best and generally a Godless Atheist. This is an anti-war piece. Or at least a piece against the reactions that some have had to veterans. And now I’ll shut up…

They tell skeletons to walk
corpses to dance
remains to re-form

Let Jesus guide you,
you are the resurrection and the light
and to fail
to fall back into your grave
the weight of dirt cracking your bones
and cold earth claiming your breath
is to commit the ultimate sin

We, the living, may scatter in cemetaries
but only you, the dead, can read the names

And only if you refuse to rise
to be Jesus
do you deny the redemption we demand

Support a struggling artist, buy my book!

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potential space fm cover web version

Space FM landing soon

Please fasten your seatbelts and put your tables in the upright position. Crew members with tasers and unhappy memories of a life lived poorly will be stopping by to confirm your compliance and collect any unwanted headphones. We’ll be touching down on planet earth on the 16th of December. Weather conditions are poor, with grey skies and relentless rain expected for the next four months. Please enjoy your stay on earth and be sure to recommend Space FM to all your friends or next time that ‘turbulence’ won’t just be a passing thing.

And to go along with that joyous news something slightly less cheerful, depending on your point of view. Laikanist Times, my first foray into the Indie publishing world which, until now, has been available for free will soon be, well, not free. Why? Because I’m moving it exclusively to Amazon, along with everything else and Amazon don’t want you to have nice things because Amazon doesn’t love you. Plus as this site has started to become more and more of a repository for my work there’s a hefty amount of stuff that’s already available gratis. Which I’m happy with and the plan is to keep this place as a kind of notebook for rough drafts, snippets, side notes and samples from upcoming projects. But the flip side of that is that I’m not sure I need to offer L.T. as a free taster any more.

Disagree? Feel free to let me know. Like Frasier Crain I’m listening. Also I’m drunk on fine wine and talking shite most of the time.


Ordered Life

The bodies were lined up in neat ranks. The idea was to stop you from noticing that they used to be human by piling them with all the efficiency of lumber in a yard. Someone, somewhere had taken the time to issue an order about it. Someone who’d never walked amongst the dead. A poultice for their own guilt probably, before they moved on to giving the orders that kept the corpses coming. Pointless, he thought, although he couldn’t blame them for trying. Continue reading


Author Dylan Orchard's Website