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writer...performer...sometime pop-up cinema host.

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Thursday, 4 October 2018

Poem: Rumour - Reality = Conditioning

4th October is National Poetry Day; this poem was first presented to Mid Kent Stanza on the 2nd October 2018. Our task was to use folklore, and the poem is inspired by the book The Last Days of Magic by Mark Tompkins, and by the cruel Witchfinder General, who caused havoc and betrayed society.
Rumour minus Reality equals Conditioning


So it starts…


gentle knock on door - oak soaks tough skin

Rat-a-tat-tat –

Machine gun sound - echoes Centuries to come


Typical small man - wearing same eyes

human ears, hands

Feet, tongue which slips - fizzes the air


Keeps belief in mother - Earth binds the whole

Not in unproven

Unseen – omnipotent


Lies spill from bewitched - enemy or saviour?

Unholy man; a wizard

Tried for heresy


Ancient fizzing air falls - like rain for his tears

an end of magic

Buried underground


The blasphemer who floats - washes away no sin

dunked and hanged

By the bona fide devil


Senseless thunderous rage - diminishes mortal power

Believe in a book

Then burn all libraries


Still we remain - Centuries later

the door Still rattling

as another life expires
Zac Thraves is a writer and performer living in Kent. www.nadiemaan.weebly.com - @28thraves

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

Your Dreams Can Come True

Dreams Come True…

You do not need to believe in Disney stories; they have just swallowed up the magic already there and used it for their own commercial benefit.

Actually, dreams are what make you the person that you are, dreams are real, they shape you, they define you, and they charge you forwards to a life that you feel able to express the real YOU.

It is a fact passed down to us through the ages in literature and tales but one that increasingly we are being pushed away from.


Well, I’m not going to go into that for too long, because it is enormously depressing; the sum part of it is that we have a bunch of people in various guises who have built their dreams and now wish to control it by stopping anyone else usurping them.
Our Current UK Government at Work

So the population are told to “be logical; dreams are not currency; being fanciful doesn’t pay the rent; using your imagination is all well and good but use tried and trusted methods which worked down t’mill two centuries ago.

Mwaaah!! That’ll fool ‘em and keep them off the scent, now back to my own empire building…”

The trouble is it works, and we are suckered into believing that the only way to live is to live for someone else’s benefit.

Go to work…

You need insurance for that…

You must have a bank account…


Perhaps there are better ways to live your life.

So, reality states that you need to earn money, which is the only form of real communication we have that everyone understands when it comes to trade.

Earn money…but you can earn it by doing what you want rather than through some third party who take a lot of it away for ‘your own good’.

You don’t need to be rich to be happy, you can earn a living, and be rich in other ways. You can start a new idea flowing and allow others to carry on the trend.

There is no competition, there is mutual respect and understanding and evolution. What does the company who destroys the competition do? It remains stuck in its tiny little ways doing the same thing over and over again…Disney.

There are a multitude of others too, both big and small, who cull the competition for no one’s benefit.

Dreams Come True.

You need these three things to get you started:



An Idea

Once you have those in place what can stop you. There is always a way, if you open your mind to all sorts of possibilities.

Sherlock Holmes says, “How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”

It works for investigations; it can work for you, your life, your growth, your career, your idea, your dreams.

So, that thing that you had always thought about doing?...

Tuesday, 17 April 2018

A Short Story: The Tale of Sir Comspeckshon

He lived alone; and in the eyes of others he was nothing more than a simpleton recluse. His straggly beard hung heavy from his face, forcing his eyes to droop and his head to sway low as he moved, like a pendulum swinging from a Grandfather Clock.

Children who passed him wondered what lived within his hive of hair; knots seemed to move as he spoke and a host of illegal immigrants enjoyed their luxurious free ride within his matted beard.

He was the type of person who most would refuse to acknowledge; busy suited passers-by would hasten their steps as they neared him, eager to snap away at their frozen shop-bought sandwiches and unwilling to pay attention to the crumbling reality around them.

The high street at lunchtime is not the place of dreams; it is a curious mixture of anger and hollowness which even the warmth of the sun cannot penetrate. Everyone looks down, their thoughts slumped to the grey pavement; yet, when his figure pinches at the consciousness, heads creak upwards, in some sort of choreographed dance.

He knew all of this.

The silent seller of the homeless magazine watched these prisoners traipse passed every day; in and out of his life like insects darting through the air. If only they could understand which one was truly in the straight-jacket.

For the man sitting in the sun in the doorway of an abandoned British Home Stores was in fact a hero; a knight in shining armour. You would be mistaken for taking him in as someone who has failed, yet, the truth is, that every day he succeeds.

Because in his world a long and weary battle is being waged between his two opposing forces. Good and evil would simplify it; a fierce and unwanted theatre of war engages daily as two sides try to gain control of the realm. Every day this man wakes to a threat, he gathers himself together and launches himself into battle; riding on his brave steed and fixing his glare onto the immediate threat ahead of him. The unruly enemy tries every trick, uses every device for its own gain.

This man has been tortured, beaten; sent screaming mad…shrouded in loneliness.

Yet he survives.

A million people have passed him in the street without a glance, yet, sometimes there is one who takes a look at him.

Sometimes a small set of eyes will gaze into his brilliant blue and see the true colour of life swirling in his pupils. Pain dances inside him; duelling with missed chances and negative responses. As his failings formed railings around his life, so the man shut up the shop and paused before taking a leap.

Until, the man leapt no more.

And what would he say to the masses of imprisoned drones who masquerade as free? He would remind them that the real prison is the one you create around yourself, and that the only way to escape is by removing your armour and striding forward.

In his eyes, risk dances with fate; in his eyes love dances with fear; in his eyes patience dances with hate…

…and if you stop to look at the bedraggled man risking his all for one more day, if you gaze into his eyes for one moment…


that is what you will see.
Zac Thraves is a writer and performer from Kent, UK.

Wednesday, 11 April 2018

The Epitaph of Voyager One

Lizard fingers grapple with gold; 
sparkling in the pale blue sun;
thin vinyl messages, indistinct, unclear...

the epitaph of Voyager One.

Our history imprinted forever, 
in the vain hope they would have any idea for
instructions, easy for a baby, alien notwithstanding; 
let’s hope they have an ear
for Mozart, and his symphony 
does not spark Independence Day. 

Gold disc of human beings - top of the pops. 
A dummies guide to Earth circa 1979. 
How we have changed.  
How little; still we war with ourselves  
and call it civil. Still we threaten 
with men who care nothing for the stars. 
If aliens form a mouth, how they would laugh and 
eulogise the emptiness of humans.  

One gold disc; some assembly required. 
Can you understand our offering to the universe? 
Let’s hope they are intelligent enough 
to unpack Ikea.  

Tuesday, 3 April 2018

I Am The Avenger


Copyright Fabled Lands Publishing and available to buy here:
The Way of the Tiger at Amazon

At least, I like to think so, having grown up reading books such as The Way of the Tiger series and Fighting Fantasy. What did these books teach us immoral children?...I'll tell ya':


Something which I am finding in my adult phase of life is not the strongest of skills held by the generation a few rungs below. You can rest assured that a suggested point of contact, whether it be a pub, cafe, store, will change in the minutes between all agreeing and the actual time of first contact. It seems to be some sort of ridiculous ritual of indecision and no one dare take control of the situation for fear of becoming a social outcast.

So, from this point on I shall be known in certain circles as The Avenger, which neatly links me to the famed 1960's television series as well as the current crop of immortal heroes dancing across our screens via the Marvel Megalithic Marathon.

The Avengers within the hallowed grounds of the British Isles were not costumed gods, but suited and booted spies with poisonous umbrellas. That is more me than a man in an iron suit. Steed and Peel all the way, unless you refer to the amazingly bad movie from the late 90's which has still not managed to get to the fabled land of 'so bad it's good'. Perhaps it is best forgotten.

(I quite liked it)

So what is on the agenda this week? Currently I am being greedy with three (3) books and I cannot make a decision as to which one to run away with. AH! The Avenger!

Embers of War by Gareth L Powell is a beautifully written space epic which takes the reader to the outcome of a major conflict. 

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard brings us to a war-torn Paris almost destroyed by The Great Magic War. It's beginning is stunning and builds a ride from there.

Planetfall by Emma Newman has such a wonderful richness to it that the world is so clear as soon as the words fall into your brain.

These three authors are truly remarkable and fully deserving of the accolades that they are receiving; I, as an undiscovered author with just a couple of Kindle offerings to my name, has seen inspiration levels increase while reading these works and I have become suddenly excited about writing again after a good few months of feeling morose about the whole shebang.

I'm not one for reviews; when I saw Black Panther I thought it as amazing, that's it, reviewed. But then I think that I should go more in depth about the themes and emotions. Does anyone actually care for someone else's in depth opinion when all you really want to place on the property is a quote that says, "AMAZING!"

Anyway, I will have to tune in to my tiger training and focus on one of these books in order to fully immerse myself within the world. Perhaps I could use a method that was successful in the Eighties for Bruce Forsyth in Play Your Cards Right.

"Higher or lower than a Planetfall? Higher? Higher?"

I have some really exciting projects on the go, all connected and I hope to get some traction soon. Have yourselves a merry old time.

Zac Thraves is a writer and performer based in Kent, UK. 

Wednesday, 24 January 2018

Getting into the Swing of 2018

Life is, for the most part, very trying; it is with this in mind that I have spent the last three weeks formulating a plan for the future.

The plan includes: writing...lots of it.
                               entering competitions...lots of.
                               attending launches and events.
                               becoming known to the universe as a writer.

Not easy, but then, neither is breathing until you get used to it, and most of us have been doing that for quite some time.

Plans need action, and you also need to plan making a plan, which requires more planning. But, a plan means nothing until you give yourself targets.

Robin Hood had targets, and he managed to pick off every single; if we could all be like Robin Hood the world would perhaps be a little fairer.

So welcome to 2018. A couple of changes on this blog bring in the new year, while Splintered Cinema will take a step back, so being some sort of bohemian writer chap comes to the fore.

Be kind to each other;let's make this one for the future.

Saturday, 30 December 2017

Closing 2017 and all its Memories

It is so pleasing (! J ) that an announcement has been made in which we are all going to be getting blue passports again. Woe, oh I have longed for such a thing, feeling that my travels have always been hampered by the burden of burgundy. I always felt like an idiot passing through an airport knowing that Johnny Foreigner was laughing behind my back at such an insult of colour in my hand. Because of this, and to celebrate, I have written a song:

The Passport Blues

  da do de di do - I got a new passport, it has a rich hue, it helps me to travel and the colour is blue; I got the passport blues, I don't know where to choose, but they give me the blues in my shoes. Now I'm too scared to go a' travellin', all because of my passport blues.

Burgundy is for suckers, blue is for blue, I'm an old English toffee, and the world is a piece of shit on my shoe, oh I'm a blue passport holder, I can now be bolder, and wear my chip on my shoulder. But hey, I won't be goin' nowhere, 'cause I don't care about you all; I got the passport blues, and I ain't gonna use it on you. 


And in the red corner, weighing in at 615lbs and 50 pence, the King of the Oompa Lumpa's, it's Deeeeeeooooooonaaaaaald Teeeeeerump; and in the blue corner, weighing in at 5lbs, the forgotten lady herself, Taaaaaaaaayraaaaaaaaysa Meeeeeeeeay. Tonight they will match against the other in a tense battle of the minds, the leader of the FreeWorld  (©) against a tyrannical lady from the United Kingdom of England...

WHO WILL WIN? Only you can decide with the latest Fighting Fantasy novel, starring the prime minister of Briton meeting the rest of the world, in Appointment with F.E.A.R.


Louis Armstrong may be dead but he has left a legacy of wonderful music which will enrich us forever; can't say the same about Bono.


Have you noticed how elderly people always tend to have a chat in the doorway of a shop? (That is my observational comedy moment for the end of the year.)


In the spirit of fair play for the football world cup of 2018 I think that all the outfield players should writhe around on the pitch as a starting point and try to get up without being pushed over again. The referee will thus have more power by standing directly over their sorry faces and whistling in their ears.


COVFEFE, gold blend…I say matron.


Finally 2017 is coming to a close, like that scene in Dumb and Dumber (circa 1994) where JC lights his farts in front of the fireplace in a lovely Christmas jumper. 

Zac Thraves is a storyteller and writer living in Kent; please contact if, you so wish, on zacharystories@outlook.com