Tag: Natasha Sinclair

Brazen Folk Horror Check in

Beltane rolled in with storms, humidity, hot and cold fronts colliding, fires, droughts, floods, and even a sinkhole! Literal and metaphorical …

Brazen Folk Horror Check in

Blip

I met you before
You wore another face
Another body 
Same eyes that sparkle and die instantaneously
Warm love and cold hate fight to dominate 
The soul fractured as hammered bones and rusted nails
I’m drawn to broken things; my reckless heart hurts with the need to lessen the pain.
Abandoned, I’m magnetised, hypnotised, bewitched
With everything to lose and nothing to gain
I’ll stab myself with all your broken pieces
You don’t notice the blood
You offer life and death in one smooth blink 
Crimson reflections are of your face and hate
You play at more than you can give
Loveless devil of the dying heart
Your air is a replica 
Like a vacuum in the presence
My mouth is dry
I can’t think straight.
There’s dewdrops on the blades and never Enough to quench 
You’re never enough
I’m always left dying of drouth
Chasing the desert for a spring 
I’ve known you before
I see how this plays out
Blood pools around my feet
You stand before me with a cool glass of water
A mirage of “I don’t lie.”
The “don’t” is silent
Your glass beyond reach of my parched lips—with those eyes of love-hate bemused.
It’s a filter
A lame game 
I crave your touch like air
My skin is screaming
And I’ll die without it
All lies, and I made them
The drops of poisoned water
From a loveless lover
And you’ll fast forget my name
Player Boy and Cowboy—just the same
They love themselves and their toys
Fed from temporary validations
The ego always needs another hit
Obsessively compulsively dismiss and onto the next
Nothing sticks
Just a posed picture 
There’s nothing else inside
Built up from superficial shit
Station your play
This time, I’ll stay away.

Broken Home

This term was mentioned to me when my kids’ father and I split up. I knew it would come up but I’ve considered it a lot since. Honestly, I considered it many times before that. Here are my thoughts:

‘Broken Home’ when used as a label towards kids that don’t grow up with birth parents who are in a relationship or married to one another is mostly bullshit. I’ve experienced and know of many far more broken homes where the parents remain unhappily together. They stay together with sticky notes of excuses, ‘for the kids’, ‘for the vows of better and worse’, to ‘prove a point’, to not ‘disappoint family’, because they’ve become unhealthily co-dependent. They stay together for fear of loneliness, judgment, the unknown, financial reasons, practical excuses, and lies they tell themselves that it ‘might get better’ and ‘things will change’. They trap themselves and their kids into true broken homes. Even though I knew better, I did that too for a time. Kids see that. They feel it, even if they don’t say it to their parents, though, sometimes they do. And when they do, it hurts hard.

My kids are not of a broken home—we fixed that when we chose to raise them in two happy homes instead of one unhappy one.

Break those toxic fucking cycles and fuck those ignorant labels.

Change in the House of…

Life is constantly changing, as it should. I’m of the mind that if things stay them same, we may as well cease to exist. Right now, the changes outweigh anything settled. It’s profoundly unsettling physically and emotionally.

The connections we make, the connections we miss, and those that break are in constant motion. Sometimes we need to go back to move forward.

We learn, grow, change, evolve.

I’m thankful for every person I’m crossed and blended paths with so far in this mad life. Even the horrors I would not change. There are pathways forming through the fog.

Another Old Building

What a building.

I walked by this building daily for several years. It was in use then. Recently, I’ve been walking that old route that takes me through Elmbank Street and even on a bright day, it’s chilling to see it like this. This building is another stunning piece of architecture designed by 19th-century architect Charles Wilson. I’ve written a little about him before, in that he also designed (among many other landmarks around Glasgow) the entrance to Glasgow’s Southern Necropolis, which formed the stage for my urban horror short, City of the Dead.

This building was originally the home of a private school, Glasgow Academy, from 1846. When The Academy moved to the west of the city, it then housed The High School (the oldest school in Glasgow, established in 1460) until 1976. It has since been used as council offices and by the police and is now empty. The most recent proposal I read was that it’s under bid to undergo a 20 million pound transformation into a hotel and wedding venue. Hopefully, this old piece of history will get its new lease of life in the city. It’s sad to see it looking so abandoned amidst the changing dynamics as modern steel beams and glass-faced builds tower around her.

Art or Blood

When I become entangled viewing a piece of art, enraptured by the skilful technique and inspired by the story being depicted, through the palate, the stroke of the instrument, the shapes, the words, I don’t much consider the artist—at least not at first.

If art speaks to me, at that moment, that’s all that matters.

I cannot get on board with this peculiar demand for so-called diversity by being selective of the artists’ personal attributes before viewing the art. Let art speak up for itself. Separate the creation from the creator, just for a bit. An artist’s nationality, sex, sexuality, gender, health, colour, heritage, politics, experiences, age, family and all else has nothing to do with the viewer unless they choose to share it.

The demand for artists to expose themselves so consumers can feel good about being selectively diverse should stop. And no, I’m not what ‘they’ think I am either—as a writer and artist, I could expose and exploit personal details for targeted diversity marketing, as too many seem to do at this strange juncture. But, not everything is for sale. I don’t offer my body and who I am for vultures to peck to the bone. I’m not for sale; my books and art are.

Want to diversify the art being consumed?

Step outside your comfort genres, go to an exhibit ‘just because’, grab a book because you’ve never heard of the author or publisher, or because the cover’s texture made you want to run your hands all over it, or because it had that ‘read me’ smell.

Enjoy the art without baying for the artists’ blood.

eBook Sale

‼️LIMITED TIME ‼️

Thank you to everyone who has supported my work this year.

And especially to those who have never read me before and taken a bite of my brand of macabre, magic and mayhem. I hope you enjoyed what you’ve tasted.

With much more on the dark horizon, I am offering Clan Witch ebooks for just £1 each.

If you fancy getting your e-readers (or reading apps) stuffed by me, just PayPal £1 (per book) to natashasinclairauthor@gmail.com , along with your chosen title(s) and email address, and I will deliver.

Word Refinery Hiatus

2023 has been fraught with challenges, and with significant changes looming, it is unlikely that the situation will ease anytime soon. Consequently, I am stepping back from freelance work. While current contracts will be fulfilled, I will not be accepting new Word Refinery clients for the foreseeable future.

To keep up to date on my creative work with Clan Witch and my collaboration with Ruthann Jagge, Brazen Folk Horror, subscribe to our quarterly, #BeBrazen.

Best Wishes. May 2024 be better than 2023!

—Natasha

Learn and Revise

In October, I posted on my social media about my decision to pull A Life of Suicides (one of my first published books) from print.

This wee book is going through revisions and edits now. I knew I’d be mortified as soon as I looked at it! And again, I apologise to my readers for the errors. I’ve been on a continuous journey of learning and refining my craft(s), with much improvement since that book was published in 2018.

If you picked up A Life of Suicides before it was pulled, I’d like to offer a complimentary digital copy of the revised edition when it’s released—please reach out with proof of purchase (if you bought from me direct and don’t have a receipt, message me, I’ll remember you!).

The new, vastly improved second edition will be wrapped up by gorgeous original art by Don Noble of Rooster Republic Press.

The new edition can be preordered, digital and print editions release on January 1st 2024.