Emily's Gaze

A quick update!

2008-03-30T18:46:00.001-07:00

While Wendy Barnard continues to work on a deal for Prairie Frost, a short story of mine called The Wilting May Flowers has been published by NVH (New Voices of Horror) Magazine and will be featured in an Anthology they are planning for October of 2008.

NVH MAGAZINE

I want to thank Steve, Doc and David for making The Wilting May Flowers their story of the month for April, 2008. I appreciate the accolades. I have in the meantime started the second book in the Prairie Frost series Seasons of The Brittle Harvest Part Two: Prairie Flood, which continues the saga of the few survivors of an apocalyptic disaster. The struggle goes on as Suzanne, Terry and Glenn try to stay alive on the unforgiving Canadian Prairies. If the weather and the elements don't get to them, the cabin fever or the walking dead just might.

I am also working on my next full length novel with the working title Chokecherry. Chokecherry will be a return to the Here and There, first introduced in Fade To Pale.

I know there are many still asking when Prairie Frost will finally come out. I hope it's soon, I really do. I want my fellow Canadians (and Manitobans) to have their very own zombie tale to be proud off.

We are also still giving away ZOMBIE MAKEOVERS at:
Cheetham's Zombies

Feel free to ask...
Say hello to Gwenyth, one of our newest members of the undead army.

All the best to my friends and horror fanatics, more to come soon!

2007 was a great year for James Cheetham!

2008-01-27T08:43:00.000-08:00

James Cheetham has spent his entire life on the Canadian prairies growing up in Manitoba where the winters last forever. He spent many a blizzard enthralled in horror movies and books, hunkered down while the elements outside had their way. He now resides on an acreage near Bird’s Hill Park with his wife Tanya and daughter Stephanie.

Over the past seven years James has worked at a maximum security prison as a Corrections Officer, most of that time spent on the psychiatric ward of the institution. It was there where many of ideas for stories were born.

His first novel, Fade To Pale, has developed a cult following. Cocktail Reviews calls Fade To Pale ‘psychologically acute and entertaining, dark and inspiring, deeply personal and universally appealing all at the same time’. It also won Best Horror Novel of 2007 at
Preditors and Editors

His short story The Beekeeper was recently released in an anthology called Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Stories. Said of The Beekeeper: A literary feel to this one, and immensely enjoyable if you like tales with a deeper meaning. With a hint of creepiness and other worldly-ness, I’ll remember this tale forever. The Beekeeper won Best Short Horror of 2007 at
Preditors and Editors

And now, his second full length novel is the initial book in a series dedicated to the zombie genre but written with a fresh new twist. Seasons of The Brittle Harvest Volume One: Prairie Frost is a Canadian take on the ominous world of the walking dead.
The extreme winter weather of the Canadian prairies, and the infestation of the damned makes survival for those still alive remote at best . Add the mental effects of long term isolation and cabin fever, and you have a survival story of epic proportions.

Cocktail Reviews said of Prairie Frost: ‘A fabulous read that chilled my bones at times—a fantastic exploration into three people’s personalities and how they coped with a world gone mad, while attempting to stave off the insanity that lurks at every turn. Prairie Frost is a must read for all horror enthusiasts’.

Visit James at:

Fade To Pale
Myspace
Prairie Frost

BIG NEWS!

2008-01-23T11:18:00.000-08:00

I have signed a contract with The Wendy Barnard Literary Agency out of Toronto, Ontario. Wendy Lee Barnard will be representing my writing and I look forward to working with her.

The Wendy Barnard Literary Agency

This will unfortunately delay the release of
Seasons of the Brittle Harvest Volume One: Prairie Frost

I realize many of you were waiting patiently for this release. This change in direction does not mean Prairie Frost will not be published, simply that Wendy and I will be looking at other options for the series.

I want to take this time to thank my friends at Wild Child Publishing.

Wild Child Publishing

Marci Baun the caring den mother of a motley crew of writers. M.E Ellis-- my editor and dear friend. Paul who does the incredible book covers and has also become a fine chum, and Faith who keeps the gears of the operation working.

I must move on now and take that next step towards my dream as a writer. Those involved in the Prairie Frost series (Suzanne especially), please look at this as a step forward not a step back. Though there will be a delay with the release, this we are hoping is also the move needed to open up a much wider audience.

For those of you who are waiting on your signed and numbered copy of Prairie Frost, I assure you, I will hold on to that list with good faith. I would however like to offer those people on the list a signed copy of Weirdly at a very reasonable price if you don't want to wait around. Its the only way I can think of to show my gratitude for your patience and understanding. Let me know if you are interested…

Those who won copies also have the option of waiting for the Prairie Frost series or taking a signed copy of Weirdly instead. That goes for Wendy, Gail, Cindy and William. You know who you are.

To Sherry whose picture appears on the front cover. I am uncertain what your fate will be but assure you we will make amends. Perhaps you too can be a character like (Suzanne) in the second book in the series entitled Prairie Flood. That also goes for Carrie who already has that privilege, for you Carrie nothing changes except the length of the wait! I feel your pain trust me!

So, to all my friends and all the support you have given me. Cheers to a wonderful and successful year ahead, I couldn't have done it without you!

Most sincerely,

James Cheetham

The Ecliptic Devil Night by sophiepinelopiad

2008-01-14T10:14:00.000-08:00

The Ecliptic Devil Night

An eclipse
In a witches room
A cocoon lit candle
Feeling the psychic energy
In my womb

devils night
Cruising to slayer
Leaves blowing
Turning and howling
A drug induced psychosis
I would realize later

a night to remember
sitting in the hospital
blood taken and screened
to keep Arafat alive

That was guarded
Sacred?
I danced
Into a world that was
Lit by firecrackers
wearing scars lit by diamonds

Dear Death, submitted by a dear woman - France D

2008-01-14T10:02:00.000-08:00

DEAR DEATH

Dear Death my sleeping beauty
I welcome you with open arms
please come and take me
everyday awaiting your reply
I won't end my life
but when you'll say it's time to go
I will follow.

But the pain is still rising
happiness I cannot feel
did I go a little too far
I can't take it anymore.

Winter you stole my sister
you kissed her cold
you laid her blue
please come and take me
everyday awaiting your return
how I miss her laugh
I just can't stand being without you
I feel sorrow.

My cat is sick, the TV is dead
the phone is off, there's no more bread
what else could go wrong with this day
if you want to
this I will say

Dear Death please come and take me away...

The Burden of Truth by Raine Eadie

2008-01-12T08:54:00.000-08:00

The Burden of Truth

I carry within me the Burden of Truth. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The Burden is heavy and weighs on my mind. To kind to be cruel, To cruel to be kind. It drags me down into places so cold. And I'll stand there alone, only my Burden to hold. It hurts me this Burden, the Truth always does. I'll carry it forever, remembering what was. For the Burden has me trapped, so like a cage. And yet I still smile, the world is my stage. I have only one plan, one focus, one goal. To shut tight my eyes, Empty windows to my soul. And carry my Burden, a burden of choice. And shut tight my lips, and silence my voice. Ashes to Ashes, Dust then to dust. The Truth is my Burden, and in my Burden I trust.

Pee Pee Plight by A Friendly Pirate...you heard me...

2008-01-12T08:38:00.000-08:00

I liked this poem. It is quirky and reminiscent of Dr.Suess (smoking pot with Hunter S Thompson) Emily hated it, does this look infected?

I have been to California
I have been to France
I have got an armadillo
Tucked within my pants
My brother likes to say it’s grey
My sister says he ain’t
My girlfriend likes to think he’s gay
Cause he naps between my taint
He hangs out with these two guys But they are simply nuts
He has but one and not two eyes And an affinity for butts
He’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen
He’s one foot wide I swear
To girls he is today’s James Dean
The boys just stop and stare
I try and take him out at night
To give him what he needs
The poor old boy puts up a fight
But the boy ain’t got no seeds
He has run dry on baby batter
A sterile man he is
And when he goes with such a clatter
He but putters out a fizz.
So ask yourself “What’s the use?”
Of having such a dong
Unless your women are all loose
A small one can’t go wrong

Some thoughts, by Jennifer Fuselier as TweetiGirl

2008-01-12T08:25:00.000-08:00

2008!

2008-01-02T09:46:00.000-08:00

Welcome to 2008...4 more years until...the end of the world. You guys are going to need booksto read once the world ends in 2012. No more TV for you. No more Chefs making cooks cry, no more Donald Trump's hair, begging for an answer as to what the hell that man does with his money-- buy a mirror brother, you can afford it! No more reality shows with gay fellas telling women how awful they look and showing them how to properly 'dress to kill'. No more English Nanny smacking your kids around (YOU GO GIRL!). No more shallow shows for us to drop our IQ's as we watch women with nicer teeth and men with bigger...egos use the word like up to six times in one drool dripping sentence.

"Dude...I was like what are you doing, and he was all like-- stay out of it Jacob and I was like no way, who the hell are you? Like really man...like what's your problem... look at my ab's, I CAN'T READ, BUT LOOK AT MY AB'S!Hey, like I heard there was a war or something in Iraq?Dude!"

Anyway... I have some books you can order if you like. Just contact me here or at jamescheetham99@hotmail.com We have a few copies of Seasons of The Brittle Harvest: Prairie Frost still available from the original hundred we put aside to be signed (by me) and numbered. As I said before, three of those hundred will be given away at random. The rest of you poor bastards will have to pay but hey no worries, you have four years to put that debt off before we're living in caves once again.
I also have some copies of Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Stories. My short called The Beekeeper is in there along with some incredible writers including M.E Ellis, Faith Bicknell Brown, Bernita Harris and two USA today writers, CT Adams and Cathy Clamp. The Beekeeper will make you cry. I swear it will. Money back guarantee-- word! If this story doesn't make you cry, trying to get your money back from me will, so it's a good deal all around. I can sign these copies too if you ask me. I like signing stuff. I like stuff.

I am also now available for interviews, reviews and conversation to anybody out there with a website or a podcast. If you read any of my books and would like to write a review feel free to. I can take the bad with the good and may even give a copy or two away here and there if people decide they want to write a ditty about me or want to collaborate on something.

I have a couple of people I would like to 'endorse' because they are not only great friends, but great writers as well. Feel free to visit M.E Ellis' blog at http://meellis.blogspot.com/ or find her in my top friends on Myspace. She is a wonderful writer, an incredible mother and wife (not mine thank God...just kidding M.E!) and has done so much to help me in my career. She is also going through the New Year's blues and that bugs me because she is such a wonderful person. So give her a visit, buy her incredible books if you like, and understand what makes this crazy broad click. She donates almost all her profits from writing to charity. How many of us can say that? I can't...but M.E can. Check her out!. Pervalism
She also has a neat contest going on at her Blog that might interest you:
Ronald Scala’s Beckoned is now on sale. If you would like the chance to win a pdf copy, all you need to do is send me a picture of the spirit in the book—Ouintan-Mantua. A little clue: he’s an Indian spirit. The one that resembles him (in my mind) the most will win a copy of the book. If you enjoy a good mystery/paranormal, then this is the book for you!

And a second great friend named David Saliba deserves some recognition as well. His website www.scepticthomas.com is a great site where you can find plenty of info about dark fiction and horror. He also wrote a macabre book called Wounded: Collected Tales of Horror and the Grotesque
David has been very kind to me and deserves the very same in return, I hope you can take the time to visit him and sign his guest book, I didn't realize people this friendly still existed in our world (that's going to end in four years). Check David out and say hello!

I will be announcing the winner of the first signed copy of Seasons of The Brittle Harvest Volume One: Prairie Frost this coming Friday. This person will also become a character in the second installment of the series and receive that copy signed, numbered and free. They can decide how they become zombified and then destroyed, and I will write them into the manuscript. It will be called Seasons of The Brittle Harvest Volume Two: Prairie Flood I think this is it everyone. I look forward to hearing from all of you and wish you all the best in this the fourth last year of your lives.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!
What do you mean I'm being a downer honey? Ignore my wife! Sincerely,
James Cheetham

When Forever Ends by Vanessa

2007-12-07T07:58:00.000-08:00

The shroud that has enveloped and caressed me for so long has been cast away

Not by the blinding glare of dawn but by a darker light

A new dawn cracks through the air like lightening

Betrayal entwined with the bellowing mist

Stalking my every step as I stumble back

Inviting me to fall into its black abyss

Tempting me to forget what's in my heart

Covering my eyes I count to ten

Only disappoint fills my head when I realize this is not a dream

Screaming "I will not forget, I will not believe"

Only echoes unheard through the clouds of despair

Deep inside my very being I can feel the electric twitches set in motion

Anger courses through my veins setting each nerve on fire

Doubt and disappointment seep into the fibers of my brain and plant their roots

Rusted chains slither to the familiar indentations around my heart grasping tighter with each breathe to ensure this stay is a long one

Such a child-like mind to believe in happy endings, true love and forever

How quickly it fades when till death comes too soon

PRAIRIE FROST LIVES!

2007-12-03T17:04:00.001-08:00

Author: James Cheetham
Publisher: Wild Child Publishing

REVIEW:

Terry and Suzanne are two strangers thrown together. Terry, on his way home from the US to Canada, meets Suzanne in exceptional circumstances. Together, they fly a small plane in an attempt to flee the madness that has overtaken the world. A 'virus' has been spreading—a virus that kills, yet allows the dead to come alive again, to wreak havoc on the living as zombies.

However, the plane crashes, and Terry and Suzanne must find a place of safety or risk becoming zombies themselves. They happen upon a small farm. Glenn, the farmer, seems reticent to allow them entry into his home at first. And who can blame him? He has endured untold horrors since the viral outbreak.

The threesome form a bond and realise that they must leave Glenn's farm and find a safer place, for the wandering dead make their presence felt in more ways than one… Terry's urge to find his wife and children overrides his own safety. Suzanne's need to assuage inner demons is a difficult task. And Glenn must learn to accept that his previous actions before meeting Terry and Suzanne were ones he had to take—he had no choice.

With the greatest snow storm that the trio have ever experienced swirling around them, they make their way to Terry's home. His empty home… Survival instinct kicks in, and all three people must come to terms with who they are, what their lives had been like, and what their lives will become. Fighting to stay alive, with supplies running out fast, they must acknowledge that the world as they knew it has changed beyond all recognition and venture into the unknown in their attempt to reach a zombie-free sanctuary.

Cabin fever sits waiting to claim the trio in its web of insanity, while the weather connives to keep them indoors. However, cabin fever and the elements didn't bargain on human survival instinct being so strong, and the threesome venture outside with determined bravery.

Will Terry find his family? Will Suzanne combat OCD? Will Glenn ever forgive himself for his past actions?

A fabulous read that chilled my bones at times—a fantastic exploration into three people's personalities and how they coped with a world gone mad, while attempting to stave off the insanity that lurks at every turn. Prairie Frost is a must read for all horror enthusiasts. I really do recommend this book. An excellent look into the human psyche, the kind of look that made me examine what I would do in such a situation. And the zombies! Marvellous! They are weird, quirky, frightening and, at times, endearing. Mr. Cheetham pens a fine tale, in my opinion. Bravo, sir!

Review by Lovely Butterfly at Cocktail reviews

http://cocktailreviews.wordpress.com/2007/12/05/seasons-of-the-brittle-harvest-vol-1-prairie-frost-wild-child-publishing/

A Poem by G.A Buchholz

2007-11-06T16:44:00.000-08:00

In the Basement of the Citadel Hotel (dedicated to my late friend, Vincent Price)

"There," said he,

"Observe the rat —
It makes its nest within the shell
of this, the ancient Citadel.

"Note that many greater souls
who once did walk these gath'ring grounds
have died, and are again born, and
that very rat now hears their sounds!"

I asked "What sounds?"
He cackled, "These:
On the rat, a thousand fleas."

James Cheetham Does It Again

2007-10-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

With his short story Beekeeper about to be released to print in an anthology called Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Stories, and his first book in what he hopes becomes a series now in the hands of Wild Child editors, things have been hectic... but the Bird's Hill resident isn't complaining. "This is the dream, without that dream I feel somewhat incomplete." Prairie Frost is the first book in a series where James pays homage to the zombie genre. He calls the series Seasons of The Brittle Harvest and plans on placing the entire story in the grips of the Canadian prairies along with the extreme weather those who live there so often endure. "I want to take what scared me as a child, and put a Canadian twist on it. Even more so , I want to explore the mind frame of the few survivors left. We live our lives so willing to believe nothing that bad could ever happen to our convenient world. What a shock then when it does. No more fresh fruit, no more heat, no more oil we so desperately fight over now. It makes you question everything you took for granted, including your own sanity. Throw in some cannibalistic zombies and plenty of Tim Horton's coffee and you got yourself a Canadian nightmare!"

Sounds like fun to me...

Review of The Beekeeper

2007-09-15T13:57:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to share a review of my short in the Anthology released on Monday.

Thanks for the support everybody...

James Cheetham

The Beekeeper from Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Stories

One of my favorite tales of the whole collection, The Beekeeper delves into the mind of a dying man. A stubborn man who, in his younger days, ruled his household in a strict manner. With his wife no longer living, The Beekeeper is cared for by his daughter. A daughter whom he failed to express his feelings for. She needs her father to tell her just once that she is loved—and has reasons for wanting to hear those precious words.

A literary feel to this one, and immensely enjoyable if you like tales with a deeper meaning. With a hint of creepiness and otherwordly-ness (is that even a word?),

I'll remember this tale forever. It must be PMT or something, as this one made me cry like a snotty kid. Brilliant! Not brilliant that I cried and snotted, but a brilliant tale.

http://cocktailreviews.wordpress.com/tag/wild-child-publishing/

James Cheetham
www.fadetopalemanuscript.blogspot.com
www.wildchildpublishing.blogspot.com
www.prairiefrost.blogspot.com

WEIRDLY

2007-09-02T11:53:00.000-07:00

From sci-fi to paranormal to weird, from chilling to odd to scary, Weirdly will sate your lust for strangeness in bite-sized pieces. Each tale weaves its own spell. Vampires, beasts, ghosts, evil creatures and, of course, every day people inhabit Weirdly’s pages. Harland’s wife makes her presence known from the other side…. The Beekeeper must come to terms with passing over... Heather and her mother join forces to disguise a murder… Lillie searches for missing children… Samantha finds out a school semester can be more than just schoolwork… All these tales and more. Dare you read them?

Weirdly
A Collection of Strange Stories

from

James Cheetham
M.E Ellis
Faith Bicknell Brown
C.T Adams & Cathy Clamp
Marva Dasef
Iron Lions
Amanda Tieman
Bernita Harris
Stacia Helpman
Rosa Occore
Rae Lindley

Sept 18th 2007
Wild Child Publishing
www.wildchildpublishing.com

Kaleidoscope by Wilma Blackwell

2007-07-27T19:43:00.000-07:00

The whispers mount
stares and piercing eyes
everywhere I peer,
they countstop, stop, please, please?
Yet the voices shrill;grate
my eyes blink against the fiery blaze,
so many different colours. Yellow, red
blue, green, purple, thrust upon my head
slivers of broken glass gaze
embedding so deep, within my raven.
What is real,
the white noise of the world around me,
fragments of the painful melee?
the line blurs becoming gray and surreal.
Are there really bears in my backyard?
Is the devil at my doorstep?
Will my blood revive the Buddha?
Bring him from his slumber to cease
the demons lurking seize, please!
No, no I have no choice!
The demons are upon me!
The kaleidoscope so transparent now
fight I must; the knife my mighty force Till the death I will; for thee, is me.

Words From The Man...Ace Lytem

2007-07-24T15:54:00.000-07:00

Ace Lytem - Actor and Musician

Hi Everyone!!
I hope you had an awesome weekend cuz mine rocked!! On Friday July 20 2007 I got home and received an autographed copy of my buddy James Cheetham's Book called Fade to Pale.In case none of you know who this guy is; he is Canada's Version of Stephen King, except much better!!! Fade to Pale is one of the most horrifying things I have ever read,Once I picked it up I couldn't stop reading it!! When I think of Great writers like Stephen King Laurence Sanders and Michael Slade;James Cheetham is in the mix as my favorite Canadian writer.This book is a definite must have for any horror fan!!Rita is the main character and is basically caught between heaven and hell in a proverbial sense.If you think you are having a bad day read Fade to Pale.... Then you will discover that your life is nothing compared to this person's!!! Go out and get this piece of literature it has been Ace Lytem Approved!!!!! So you know it is worth every penny spent!!

James, in case you are reading this Thank you so much for the book and keep us posted on other works being released!! You will go a long way!! Keep writing and do you have any other books that were released before this one?
Have a great day everyone and I'll talk to you all later!!
Ace

Terror by Jacqueline G. Riley

2007-07-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

The blade of the knife glinted in the moonlight
Flashed reflections around the truck
The cold of the steel touched my skin
Traced slowly down my arm
Suddenly, pain in my stomach was
Burning, as if I had poured a pot of
Boiling water onto myself
Warmth of the blood flowing from
My stomach down onto my sides
The anger in his eyes as he
Watched the pain on my face
Frightened me to no end
His eyes glowed as if a switch
Inside his head had been flipped on
The anger, pain and terror along with
My agony and fear seemed to
Bring him to life
Again, the knife found its mark
Further up my abdomen
Suddenly, a fist knocks my head back into
The glass of the back window of the truck
Pain and shock cause me to scream
Which brought a huge smile to his face
Fighting to get away
To get out of the truck
Brought about more blows
From his huge fists
As quickly as it had begun
He was calm as if he had
Never turned into the monster
That destroyed my life

Selkirk Journal Interview...

2007-07-17T16:16:00.000-07:00

Beyond the Pale

Bird's Hill author hits the shelves this week

By Nancy RenwickFriday July 13, 2007

There are some questions that are difficult to answer.In his new book Fade to Pale, Bird's Hill author James Cheetham asks the question: what happens if someone lives, who was supposed to die?"You hear how a plane crashed, 200 people died, one survives, that person said 'I wasn't meant to die,'" he said. "I want to take the opposite of that.What if someone was supposed to die?"Fade to Pale, which hits the shelves July 13, is a novel about a young woman, Rita Hamilton. Her fate was to die as a child at Lester Beach. But she doesn't. "The fact that she's survived has altered everyone else's life," he said. "Death comes back for her [years later] in the form of a woman named Emily." While Hamilton survives, it's a difficult life."Rita has some horrible things happen to her," he said. "Just because she lives, she doesn't get a break."People's lives have an impact on others, he said. Actions have consequences and in the book, as in life, people have to answer for their actions. It's a metaphor for bigger issues for Cheetham. People can sometimes get absorbed in their own problems, he said."We never stop and look and think maybe we're the problem," he said.Cheetham calls it a psychological thriller. One on-line book review calls it "psychologically acute and entertaining, dark and inspiring, deeply personal and universally appealing all at the same time."

It sounds consistent with Cheetham's inspiration. "I've been reading dark fiction all my life," he said.He also draws some inspiration from his work. Cheetham has spent seven years working as a Ccorrections Officer at the Remand Centre in Winnipeg, with a year off work to pursue studies in English and do some writing. "I've seen a lot of dark things," he said. "One way or another, that influences my writing."The Manitoba landscape also figures in his work. He grew up in St. Norbert, and has moved around the province since then. He's now settled on the corner of Bird's Hill Park with his wife Tanya and daughter, Stephanie, 9. "I like the country," he said.And he tries to incorporate Manitoba into the book as much as possible. It's deliberate."My goal is to do for Manitoba what Stephen King did for Maine," he said. The book, published by California's Wild Child Publishing. took about three years for the 36-year old author to complete, although he's been writing since he was in his teens. While some writers deal with writer's block, where they can't write for a while, Cheetham has the opposite issue."If I don't write, I find myself getting grumpy," he said.He prefers to write late at night and early in the morning, in a room full of his old toys. He said writing a novel is a challenging process."It doesn't just happen," he said. He uses the metaphor of a human body to explain the process of writing his book. First, he said, there's the skeleton, or outline of the book. When that's complete, you give it muscle, then a heart, then some skin. Finally, he said, you dress it up and give it a name.For Cheetham, the name of the initial short story was The Beekeeper. He sent in that manuscript to a short story contest. They called back saying they'd take the story. And they asked if he had any full-length manuscripts. He did. Fade to Pale sees the light this week. It's scheduled to hit the shelves July 13, and is available through amazon.com.

Crying Minds Holding Straight Faces by Rose- Anne Meyer

2007-07-17T16:04:00.000-07:00

Crying minds holding straight faces

Children running to forbidden places

Arms that were open snap themselves shut

A bleeding gash appears with no cut

Noses are smelling beautiful flowers

While time comes to a halt, stopping the hours

Your laughter echoes and you're laughing at me

Your eyes are staring

So dark and so empty

You hold your hands

To pull me near

When I think I'll be free

You'll fill me with fear

Laughing minds holding straight faces

Haunting my mind on a regular basis...

Fallen by Rose-Anne Meyer

2007-07-17T15:54:00.000-07:00

My life is this fallen tree

Barren and contorted

The lifestyles around me

Are plentiful, and assorted

I've fallen for the sands of time

Have knocked me to the ground

And now my voice is like a mime's

I dare not make a sound

I see so many pass me by

No one stops to say hello

This absurd life won't let it end

But keeps pulling me down below...

I would like to introduce someone...

2007-07-16T16:41:00.001-07:00

Hi Everybody,

As a writer, I know how hard it is to grab the worlds attention, so I promised myself when I was finally a published author, I would help others in their own quest if they were deserving. This young woman is...

Her name is Kelle Carbone and unlike many her age, she knows what is important in her life, and what she wants her future to hold. If I can appreciate anything, I can appreciate that...

so feel free to visit Kelle's new site and leave her a comment. She's a very talented poet and writer who GETS IT. If you don't know what that means well... don't quit your day job...

www.profoundpoet.blogspot.com

Best of luck Kelle!

James Cheetham

Selkirk Journal Article July 13, 2007

2007-07-13T06:38:00.000-07:00

The Abnormal by Rose-Anne Meyer

2007-07-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

Unmoving bodies

Pale-faced and cold to the touch

Breath pouring out of chapped lips

Eyes staring blankly out to a world

That showed them too much

Their bodies were taken by death

And there is many...

Their souls are inspired

And minds vibrant

But the world's killed them

Saying the sheep were the victims

Even though it was the abnormal that were hated

And I... I am one of them.

The Touch of Hunger by Wilma

2007-07-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

I'm running through the night

the fear in my veins icy cold,

my legs seem to be frozen in flight

the darkness is overtaking me...

People stare at me as I whirl past,

shaking their heads in sadness,

another soul lost.

They can't sense the all consuming evil around us.

It's upon me,

it's white teeth gleaming dripping with crimson blood.

I am powerless to move,

it's unearthly eyes penetrating,

involuntarily my body becomes weak

it feasts and gorges itself

siphoning out the soul that is me.

When next I wake,

it's pitch black darkness.

Staring back at me,

is a vision of ghostly white

it's eyes deep dark wells of emptiness,

my stomach rumbles in hunger.

I swoop over the countryside

prowling for someone on which to feast

a painful ache deep deep inside,

the need for fresh thirst-quenching blood!

Which of you tasty morsels will it be?

Will it be you?

Seclusion Amidst the Storm by Dee Cee

2007-07-05T18:02:00.000-07:00

Sometimes…when the rain comes down

And the world is still, and there is no sound

You can close your eyes and remember well

What it was you knew but refused to tell…

and Sometimes… when the wind blows cold

Tho’ the night is dark, yet your eyes behold

Of a dream it fades and the clouds roll in

And the moon shines on

til the days begin…

and Sometimes… while the wars rage on

You can hold that breath til the break of dawn

And that peace you seek is a blurring haze

Tho’ your eyes bow down, it’s your face you raise…

and Sometimes…while the earth keeps turning

Tho’ the fire’s out, still the heart keeps burning

From the mist you taste as your souls abound

Sometimes…when the rain comes down…

Fade To Pale release date July 10th 2007

2007-07-01T09:15:00.000-07:00

Fade To Pale will finally be released July 10th, 2007.

Thanks again to Wild Child Publishing in Culver City California. Marci, M.E, CoverVan, and Faith...I appreciate all the work that has gone into this.

Fade To Pale will be available for order at:

http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/

http://www.mcnallyrobinson.com/

(they will also carry Fade To Pale in their Grant Park store)
http://www.amazon.com/

Hope everybody enjoys it...

HORROR FANS: help me make Canada a scary place...I'm tired of being the nice folk with the goofy money...bring on the zombies! Speaking of zombies...

http://www.prairiefrost.blogspot.com/

If you write dark poetry, Emily is looking for submissions! http://www.emilysgaze.blogspot.com/

and if you just want to talk or send me money or sexytime pictures (yes I'm kidding stop rolling your eyes)

jamescheetham99@hotmail.com

Take care everybody... now give a blood curdling scream and read my book!

James Cheetham

Sons and Daughters by Charlie B

2007-07-01T07:54:00.000-07:00

we are the sons of terror

we are the daughters of ignorance

we are the children of disease

we are the heirs of inequity

we are the keepers of an indigent flame

we are the dreams of our parents

we are the tenants of their nightmares

we are the rapists and the thieves

we are the immoral and unshakable

we are the addicts and the pushers

we are the silence and repression

we are the inconsolable and the broken-hearted

we are the wasted and the faithless

we are sinners

we are sheep

InSaNe by Paul Rees-Jones

2007-06-23T13:55:00.000-07:00

trapped in a mind,

A state of insanity.

time has come,

As time was lost.

Look through the glass,

Shatter what I see.

The time has come,

to act the age

And break the ties of Insanity!

Circus by Jenny McEntarffer

2007-06-22T09:22:00.000-07:00

Dirt stained the wall.

I sat alone in the dark.

The smell of rotting flesh hung heavy in the air.

The lack of noise shattered my mind.

An empty chair stained with blood.

I sat alone in the dark.

Heavy breathing came through the stillness.

My skin crawled with anticipation.

Overwhelming hunger pains.

I sat alone in the dark.

Faint whispers came from close by.

Sweat, fear and cigarettes filled my nostrils.

Footsteps approached.

I sat alone in the dark.

Saliva flooded my mouth running down my chin.

A lone soul brought to the slaughter.

A red rubber nose squeeked.

I sat alone in the dark.

Bloated and warm from the feast.

No more giggles and grins.

A Memory Of Moisture by Eric Gale

2007-06-20T20:18:00.000-07:00

I thunder in the silence,

brilliant lightening flashes,

unseen on my horizon

Cold steely fingers of solitude,

rake my warmth,

harrow my soul

Desert rain gathers,

droops my shoulders,

pours from my heart

Spills on burnt sand,

and vanishes,

dew disemboweled,

a memory of moisture

Cumulus shrouds cloak my sun,

I falter and sigh in coming darkness

Even a glimpse of shadow is denied,

no silhouette for company

It’s the loneliness like ice that shackles,

steals through my veins

As blood spilt on black granite,

obsidian eyes… shed copper tears

Eternity reigns on infertile mirrored plains,

foggy canyons of mind

Infernal remembrances of the shattered past,

individual frozen splinters of pain

My veil can’t protect,

only obscure,

what I’ve become,

what I hide

As the phantoms of reality pass by,

and through,

unaware I even exist...

Going Home by Paul Rees-Jones

2007-06-20T18:53:00.000-07:00

I waited for the day,

Bloody hands left from play.

As he crept behind me,

I could not turn to see.

I felt a chilling shudder,

Like a Raven's wing a flutter.

I called out, "who are you?"

"I am the Lord of Flies,

the King of Lies,

The dispeller of peace,

The filth in the grease,

Evil that is sown,

is mine and mine alone.

Some call me Angel, some Demon,

Others just call me Legion.

I am here for you, my begotten Son,

For your bloody work has just begun."

He took my hand in his chilled grasp,

My soul ripped out from that Devil's clasp.

I felt such power and torment there,

And smiled as I looked into Death's sweet stare.

I am going home....

Hunting Nife by Ethan James Jackson

2007-06-20T18:33:00.000-07:00

From a hunting nife i do thee twist

Into the hinter shadows of the darkened mist

And from this place of wipe out and wo

I surely see the spirit of incandesant know

And to know for sure, for this and that

Rolling around akin to a burned skin cat

Taking away from me the things that i see

The life that i used to live amidst the hurried leaves

And surely now and surely not

Could i even muster the wordly turns in what kind of order

Would even try to blunt the... Hunting nife swinging so deep

Hunting nife swigging as to cheat

Hunting nife so as to swallow whole

The things that i slander as i do thee estoll...

Petrified In The Darkness by Wilma

2007-06-20T18:04:00.000-07:00

As I sit curled up on the floor,

the darkness is my refuge.

Yet in the darkness comes the glare,

untold fear invading my very soul.

Even when the sun shines,

I know the darkness is not far behind, just waiting,

watching for the opportunity to control my mind.

My place of haven is truly a place of hell,

soaking in my soul like a putrid bit of gel.

Beckoning me, tempting me, urging me, till "me", is at one with the abyss.

Light, there is no more for me.

The essence of my soul is gone.

There is no more pain, no more feeling, no more me.

One with the darkness, I am long gone.

Searching to overtake another soul,

petrified in the darkness...

Lilith and Séléné by F.C. Monica

2007-06-19T12:34:00.000-07:00

A night dreamer is a Lilith lover

A daydreamer loves more Séléné

The two of them can see the sundown

The two of them can dream at the dawn

A night dreamer cry with Séléné

A daydreamer can smile and kiss Lilith

The two of them can love the moonlight

The two can sing under the sunlight

Some days in dark I'm sister of Lilith

Some days all shines I'm like Séléné

I have to face the rays or the nights

Once flux once ebb; the tides of my life...

Untitled by Paul Rees-Jones

2007-06-19T12:21:00.000-07:00

The night is dark,

The dark is evil,

The evil is strength,

The strength is a drug,

The drug is death,

The death is reality,

and reality's insane.

Cut by Paul Rees-Jones

2007-06-19T12:18:00.000-07:00

The blade is new and sharp,

A glint of steel, a slash, a cut.

The thin and bloody line.

To feel is all I want in life.

To heal is all I need.

That slice, that cut, it makes me know,

I am a heartless soul....

Who Cares... By Tina Deese

2007-06-18T15:04:00.000-07:00

Who cares that the sky is blue?

Make it different...something new.

Who cares that the grass is green?

What about everything else....everything in between.

Who cares that love is all around?

I never get any, I've been let down.

Who cares that I have a life?

I'm just a mother and I'm just a wife.

Who cares that I need some attention?

I just want a little, not enough to mention.

Who cares that I awoke this morning?

Today is like many, just painfully boring.

Who cares that life's more than I can bare?

I can't handle it, but then, who really cares.

Who cares if I were to die today?

Then I wouldn't be here, in anybody's way...

Who cares....................

Solitary Boulevard by Lainey B

2007-06-18T14:54:00.000-07:00

Rythmic stride footed sure, a solitary dance.

Exploding presence, unforseen, in demonic trance.

Hands entwined, behind me bound, forced in backward prayer.

The devils party just begun, stripped in costume bare.

Breathing snow, neck is cocked, olive-rock shredding skin.

Writhing low the Exorcist urge, strong to glimpse of him.

Chest of worship seated pew, force exit from my lungs.

Gutteral sounds ripping through, speaking out in tongues.

Wormlike sweat encroaches in, breath felt, licks my lips.

Groping tentacles map my chest, a rigid, cold eclipse.

Evil words, vulture love, sadistic rabid feast.

Dizzied image urging in, terror fed the beast.

Earth retreats, in unblessed love, shroud of death is mine.

Purgatory living dead, he heralds me his shrine.

Frame by frame the midnight hunt, stolen carnal trust.

Never free chained in bond, a devils game of lust...

Darker Than Black by Danielle Raak

2007-06-18T14:47:00.000-07:00

The lights go dim and my eyes adjust to the room

No one is around me or so that I assume

Through the darkness I view an obscured light

Though the color is darker, darker than night

It moves slowly, to and fro

I am afraid of this shadow

I wish it would go

I close my eyes and see it's face

I scream aloud for the goodness of grace

But goodness does not exist in this world

Fate has a way of making it twirl

What ever it was I have become now

I lurk on the fears of some everyone says

" Theres no such thing as ghosts"

but of course there is

I am just a lost soul

A demon

A monster

I have everything done

I hate what I am

But to evil I was

And now I am damned

On dark moonless nights

Sometimes you can see

A figure darker than black

That shadow is me...

A Lover's Torture by Kelle Carbone

2007-06-18T09:53:00.000-07:00

This knife's blade seems so appealing now,

I am captivated by it's defined capabilities.

May I stab you in the spine, such as you have done unto me?

May I watch your blood gush and then wash the windows with it?

Will you give me the honor to watch this silver bullet's reflection in your emotionless eyes?

To look on as the cold lead punctures into your empty heart?

Can I force your head under the water and hold you until your corpse sinks and disappears into the abyss?

May I set fire to your threshold with my faded love's flame?

So you can feel its warmth and see the vibrance it once possessed?

Can I wrap my hardened hands around your throat I've kissed amorously a thousand times?

While you gasp for breath as I once did all the nights I cried for what seemed like forever... over you.

Kiss my venomous lips as you are hypnotized by my alluring eyes.

Allow me to suck every ounce of life from you, and inhale your last breath.

Let me adorn your tears and wear your blood as my attire.

Give me the permission to take you away without a trace.

Away from this world, this reality.

And as you beg and plead upon my mercy's behalf, may the profession of your love unto me be your last words...

Flatland by Garth A. Buchholz

2007-06-16T08:27:00.000-07:00

To resist the (pressing) oppression

of the two d(ement)sional world of (Flatland) glossy magazines,

I have (ob) seen wo(men) mutilate their forearms

with deep (deeper) strokes of a razor

so that they may prove with their (veins of) blood to them(selves) and their confusers

that their image (has depth) has depth

(your image has depth)...

FADE TO PALE WILL GO TO PRINT!

2007-04-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Fade To Pale is going to print!

Thanks to Wild Child Publishing Fade To Pale will be available shortly.

I appreciate everybody who has supported me through this interesting year. Your kindness and interest will not be forgotten.

Fade To Pale Interview/Story (Beausejour Review)

2007-04-05T10:52:00.000-07:00

Scaring your pants off
Author promises an excellent read
By Ryan CrockerFriday

April 06, 2007

What Stephen King has done for Maine, author James Cheetham aims to do for Manitoba.

Cheetham’s newly published book, Fade to Pale, has already earned a five-star rating from critics at Cocktail Reviews and the North Eastman resident couldn’t be happier.“As a writer, I am always pondering fate,” Cheetham explained, “I began writing Fade To Pale with one question in mind... what if someone faced their fate head-on and survived it, going on to live another day or even a lifetime. The future for all of us would be altered no matter who this person was or how insignificant they were.”Cheetham enjoys dark, intelligently written fiction and considers Fade to Pale to be a dark, psychological thriller that explores the mind of Rita Hamilton. She, the main character, escapes her mortal destiny – her fate was to drown at Lester Beach as a child but she didn’t, forever altering the course of her life and the lives of those she comes in contact with along the way.“If terror is subtle, it is far more effective than having it thrown in your face, that is nothing more than shock value and it gets old pretty quick,” Cheetham noted. “Years later we rejoin Rita in her nightmarish world of vices and stress as she struggles to understand all that has happened to her. When destiny returns in the form of a woman named Emily, Rita realizes her time is short but there are still many things she must do before it all makes sense and she can find contentment.”

It’s in that process of remembering that Rita realizes she is the cause of the trauma in her life and the victim of it as well. Cheetham hopes readers will love Rita’s character as much as they hate her but, above all else, he hopes they come to understand her. He believes his book will affect each person differently, depending on their own life experiences – and he promises it will scare the pants off its readers.Fade to Pale will was released on April 3 as an e-book. It can be downloaded for a small fee at www.wildchildpublishing.com and, if all goes as planned, the book will be released in print in the weeks to come.

The King’s footsteps

The 36 year old has been writing for most of his life and now lives with his wife and daughter near Bird’s Hill Park. He loves to use Manitoba locations as the setting for his stories, such as Lester Beach and Grandview.“I love using locations that are personal to me,” Cheetham explained, “I want to be the Stephen King of our corner of the world and do for the prairies what King did for Maine. I have this imaginary square drawn around the lower half of Manitoba, Alberta and Saskatchewan – North Dakota, Montana, and Minnesota where all my nightmares will hopefully see the light of day in one form or another.”Cheetham is already working on his second book, which he says is breathing the cold, crisp air of a prairie winter in southern Manitoba.“I always say the only thing wrong with a Farley Mowat book is its lack of zombies,” Cheetham joked.

For more information about Cheetham’s work, you can visit his websites at www.fadetopalemanuscript.blogspot.com and www.emilysgaze.blogspot.com.

FADE TO PALE LIVES!

2007-04-04T09:35:00.000-07:00

Fade To Pale is now available for download at www.wildchildpublishing.com

If you download it, leave a comment and let Emily know your thoughts. Then... hope she's in a good mood...

FaDE TO PALE Review (courtesy of Cocktail Reviews)

2007-03-21T11:19:00.000-07:00

Author: James Cheetham

Publisher: Wild Child Publishing

REVIEW:
Rita is a troubled woman, there’s no two ways about it. Her family have left her, her mother was less than motherly, she has an over-reliance on pills and she’s been fighting her particular mental demons since before she can remember. Now things are coming to a head: the nightmares are escalating, her dream family home is about to be sold, the demons are peeking their heads above the water and secrets are about to be let loose.

This is a remarkably assured novel which delves, with some exquisitely vivid writing, into very dark and very, very interesting areas of the human psyche. I’m resisting outlining any more of the plot because it’s best left to unfold as you read. And unfold it does, with grace and fluidity, opening up Rita’s mind to us as it goes.

There’s a lot of perceptive psychological writing in this novel, but it never seems tiresome or academic. I particularly loved the use of the beach and water. I love it whenever they are used in this context, to represent the unconscious. It has been done a few times before, but that fact simply highlights the validity of the symbolism. Their use allows for some wonderful images and resonances: Rita finding sand in the corner of her eyes each morning; her lips and throat often dry and chapped as though encrusted with salt. So the water and sand become central to the story, linking dreams and reality, memory and trauma, the sleep in Rita’s eyes and the salty tears on her cheeks. It also gives extra weight to Rita’s watery dreams (which are vivid enough on their own), and ties them tightly to the plot as they become more entangled with reality, giving rise to some disorientating moments. So, as a lover of weird stuff this was hog’s heaven for me.

There are also some interesting philosophical moments in the book, not least Rita’s Grandma’s views on life and the meaning of it all:

“If we took life as it was: nothing more than a big old coffee break from a deep dark coal mine where the blackness went on forever and without any other option no matter how hard we argued, we would cherish every breath up here in the sunlight.”

The eloquence here though is forever balanced by Rita, who can’t seem to see the sunlight for the darkness, however hard she tries.

I wouldn’t say the book is faultless. A couple of times during Rita’s childhood I didn’t quite believe she was as young as I was meant to, mainly because of some of the wordage used. I was also a bit unsure about the ending for reasons it’s difficult to go into here without revealing too much. That’s not to say anything was spoiled for me, it just made me examine my own views, which I suppose is a good thing in itself. And there’s always things that you’re going to come up against when you’re dealing with bold and penetrating work like this.

Regardless, the end result was intriguing and stimulating, leaving me with images resonating and ideas floating about long after the last line. I personally can relate to a lot of the feelings and thoughts in this book, the fact that the author has managed to weave such things so eloquently into the plot really is something for him to be very proud of.

Oh, did I mention it was scary? Freakishly so at times with some deliciously disturbing and surreal scenes, often making me think of the paintings of Francis Bacon and the films of Japanese gothic horror maestros Hideo Nakata and Takashi Miike.

All in all this is quite an achievement, a book which manages to be psychologically acute and entertaining, dark and inspiring, deeply personal and universally appealing all at the same time.
Harvey Wallbanger

Published

2007-02-18T12:12:00.000-08:00

I am very proud to announce that Fade to Pale will be published as an Ebook by Wild Child Publishing. Thanks to the staff at Wild Child and a very special thank you to M.E. Ellis for her support and wisdom.

2007-02-15T11:37:00.002-08:00

The Short Story Beekeeper will be published in June by Wild Child Publishing. Good news from the Here and There...

Welcome To The Here and There...

2007-02-14T17:56:00.000-08:00

Hi, I'm writer James Cheetham..

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

This blog is Emily's sounding board. She is a main character in my novel Fade to Pale. Like moods, Emily comes and goes. She is the rum in my Coke, the bee in my bonnet, the fly in the ointment. Her opinions however come from a place the majority have no reason to venture and her views are often less clouded by what we as a people call progress. Emily instead calls it evolution though she emphasizes when she says this that even viruses evolve... even humans mutate...