Nick Bryan Dot Com

Conclusive thoughts on season eight of House for Dork Adore. Some spoilers.

Thu, 31 May 2012 10:14:12 +0100

Conclusive thoughts on season eight of House for Dork Adore. Some spoilers.

They've cancelled Dirk Gently and I was moved to do a post about it for The Digital Fix. Sorry, bit of a blog frenzy today.

Tue, 29 May 2012 12:49:28 +0100

They've cancelled Dirk Gently and I was moved to do a post about it for The Digital Fix. Sorry, bit of a blog frenzy today.

A Dork Adore "review" of the new Olympic-themed mini-episode of Doctor Who written by kids. Yeah, I can't really be too mean.

Tue, 29 May 2012 12:01:55 +0100

A Dork Adore "review" of the new Olympic-themed mini-episode of Doctor Who written by kids. Yeah, I can't really be too mean.

Writing About Writing - Inevitable Introduction

Tue, 29 May 2012 10:57:00 +0100

Hello. I’m going to try something adventurous now on this blog where I post my writing: I’m going to blog about writing.

Well, to give myself scope, I’m going to blog about anything relating to writing or stories, incorporating book reviews and even methods of typing if I have something to say about it. The schedule is weekly on Tuesdays, to provide a small break before I post a story on Fridays.

Not that I always make the Friday deadline, imagine I won’t always make this one, but I’d like to give it a go. I miss blogging regularly, and I’ve got the mundanities of real life more or less covered on Twitter.

I’ll do an introduction here, even though a lot of my potential readership probably know who I am: I’m Nick Bryan, 28 years old, London-based, I write stories, mostly in the black comedy region, I have various novels in a few stages of half-finished, one of which might have potential, I am also (as of this writing) a short distance from finishing an MA in Creative Writing from Goldsmiths College. If you’d like to buy a longer story by me, there’s one in this anthology. There won’t be too much self-promotion, I swear.

To be honest, I would have done this long ago, but I always found myself wondering what I have to add to the “blogging about writing” field – I mean, it’s massive. I’m sure there are more blogs about writing than there are books. Or words in the Bible. Or copies of Romeo & Juliet in schools worldwide.

And here I am, largely unpublished and living in a small room. Still, now my MA is all over bar the crying (and dissertation writing, then more crying), I need an outlet to discuss these things, and I already had the website ready.

So, join me next Tuesday, when I attempt to say something about writing! (Don’t worry, I drafted the first three posts before I put this first one up, to avoid the humiliation of declaring a new blog project and delivering nothing.)

If anyone has any deep thoughts about what makes a good writing blog, let me know in the comments below. My plan so far is to write down the issues that come to me when I work and hope people give me the solution. Or at least a hearty “me too!”.

It's fighty time on this week's Game of Thrones review on The Digital Fix.

Tue, 29 May 2012 10:11:09 +0100

It's fighty time on this week's Game of Thrones review on The Digital Fix.

Final look at House on The Digital Fix as the series concludes. I love this show, so yes, did let myself ramble on a little.

Fri, 25 May 2012 10:39:32 +0100

Final look at House on The Digital Fix as the series concludes. I love this show, so yes, did let myself ramble on a little.

Friday short story time: "White Tornado"

Fri, 25 May 2012 08:24:35 +0100

This week in Friday stories, it’s time for some cross-species action!

(No, not like that. Although old Friday story Threesome At Dead Rock is still my most google-found page. so clearly implying the existence of adult content is the way to go. Porn-SEO!)

Anyway, hopefully there will be some more regular content on this website starting next week. For now, though, here’s some short work.

White Tornado

By Nick Bryan

My name is White Tornado and I don’t know what it means but they call me Whitey and Torn and someone calls me W.T. so it took me ages to work out what my real name was, but eventually after they shouted “Whte Tornado” for ages and I didn’t come, I figured out they must be talking to me because they kept on calling it and when I didn’t move they waved a stick.

Oh yes, I am a dog, I’ve given it some thought and would describe my type as medium and white, because some dogs are much smaller than me and others way bigger, to the extent that I worry they might eat me if I overstep their territory, whch I sometimes do because I like to run in circles chasing my own tail until I get dizzy, fall down and then do a poo.

And then I lose track of where I am, and before I realise, I have gone to the wrong place and I am being chased by either another dog or a man with a stick, and I find it’s always a stick, I haven’t yet worked out why people seem so attached to sticks, I myself am ambivalent to them, but if they throw them and I don’t bring them back, they get aggravated, and all I really want is a quiet life and all the time I need to run in circles until I feel a bit sick.

The best stick I ever retrieved was a few seconds ago, it was being thrown by a man at night into someone’s house and I was off my lead during that part of my walk, we were close by and I don’t think anyone with me had seen it, but I was able to catch it in mid-air, and I’m not usually that excited by sticks because they’re boring, but this one was a nice dirty red colour and had sparks flying from one end.

Oddly, no-one seemed very happy that I had caught it, thinking through the whole thing again has not helped me work out why, and running it back towards the man who threw it has only made him run away.

And I’ve just noticed my owners are shouting “White Tornado!” again and again, just like before, and I don’t really know why as I’ve already caught the damn stick.

Yes, this dog does know a lot of long words, I admit. Let’s pretend he’s being transcribed by someone quite pretentious. Anyway, copyright me 2012, do not steal, email me if you like.

A piece for Dork Adore on the House finale, also incorporating the House Facebook game that I have been playing far too much.

Thu, 24 May 2012 11:42:55 +0100

A piece for Dork Adore on the House finale, also incorporating the House Facebook game that I have been playing far too much.

My somewhat bloodthirsty review of the new Game of Thrones for The Digital Fix.

Tue, 22 May 2012 13:33:50 +0100

My somewhat bloodthirsty review of the new Game of Thrones for The Digital Fix.

My sister is cloning an army of dinosaur minions using knitting...

Sun, 20 May 2012 11:55:48 +0100

My sister is cloning an army of dinosaur minions using knitting needles. (Taken with instagram)

A piece about Episodes for Dork Adore, in which I inevitably break out the "having an episode" joke.

Thu, 17 May 2012 11:06:44 +0100

A piece about Episodes for Dork Adore, in which I inevitably break out the "having an episode" joke.

National Flash Fiction Day story: "Touch Wood"

Wed, 16 May 2012 16:21:00 +0100

Since today is National Flash Fiction Day in the UK (the rest of the world apparently has a longer attention span), I have whipped up a story.

Well, I say story. It’s just under 300 words of dialogue, and as with most things I produce very quickly, it’s a bit on the puerile comedy side. But I find it strangely endearing, so I’m going to expose you to it anyway.

Sorry, it has nothing at all to do with the TV series Torchwood.

Touch Wood

By Nick Bryan

‘Hey, Brian, did you see that?’

‘M’reading.’

‘That twitchy guy just dashed all the way across the bar to touch the wood panel by the window.’

‘Yes dear.’

‘I think he’d just said “touch wood” to that girl he was talking to, and thought he’d, y’know, try and be cute.’

‘Right.’

‘But he probably didn’t factor in that this place is so fashionable, all glass and metal and Ikea furniture, so there’s no wood anywhere.’

‘No, there isn’t.’

‘So he ended up going on a two minute walk, and then having to shove back awkwardly around everyone. I think she’s about to try and get away from him, to be honest. People are staring.’

‘I see.’

‘Really, if he wanted to make that play, he ought to have gone to an old man pub where there’s wood all over the place.’

‘Are you bored, Mary?’

‘No.’

‘Because you said you were fine with checking your phone while I finished this chapter.’

‘I am. Carry on.’

‘Okay then.’

‘Brian! The guy with the wood is leaving now.’

‘How are his chances looking?’

‘Like the panel by the window is the only wood-touching he’ll get today.’

‘Excellent.’

‘So you’re interested in this now?’

‘No, Mary.’

‘Wow, he’s just tripped and smashed his head open on the wooden doorframe!’

‘Really?’

‘No. But it would’ve been amazingly ironic.’

‘That was the problem, sweetie. Too obvious.’

‘It was either that or “I think he’s trapped his erection in the closing door!” though.’

‘That’s just stupid.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Want me to put the book away and go to dinner early!’

‘Oh, can we?’

‘I think it’s for the best.’

Copyright me 2012, no stealing, email me here or comment below with any thoughts, all the usual. And yes, this does probably mean no Friday story on Friday.

The new Game of Thrones episodes reviewed. We love Jaime Lannister! We hate Qarth!

Tue, 15 May 2012 11:10:25 +0100

The new Game of Thrones episodes reviewed. We love Jaime Lannister! We hate Qarth!

Preview of the new season of Episodes on The Digital Fix. It's still okay-ish. Hooray.

Fri, 11 May 2012 10:42:07 +0100

Preview of the new season of Episodes on The Digital Fix. It's still okay-ish. Hooray.

Latest Game of Thrones review on The Digital Fix. Regional updates, obscure characters, etc.

Tue, 08 May 2012 09:23:00 +0100

Latest Game of Thrones review on The Digital Fix. Regional updates, obscure characters, etc.

Thoughts on the end of Homeland season 1 for The Digital Fix. There are some spoilers.

Mon, 07 May 2012 13:47:58 +0100

Thoughts on the end of Homeland season 1 for The Digital Fix. There are some spoilers.

Last night's Game of Thrones (or Sunday's, if you're in the USA) reviewed on The Digital Fix.

Tue, 01 May 2012 12:05:09 +0100

Last night's Game of Thrones (or Sunday's, if you're in the USA) reviewed on The Digital Fix.

Friday short story time: "Vagrancy"

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 08:23:50 +0100

Today, a short ode to waking up, being confused and just kinda stumbling around. This exact story never happened to me, but I like to think it has basically happened to everyone. A genuine attempt to connect with the universal human experience on Nick Bryan Dot Com today.

And, on a less pretentious note, tonight I see Avengers!

Vagrancy

By Nick Bryan

Phil woke up on a bench in Leicester Square, wondering what that sticky mass on his left hand was. Wondering why he was there, or indeed how he’d managed to sleep in the first place. Because, much to his aggravation, it wasn’t even morning yet.

No chirping birds, no light gently bursting through the clouds, or even starting to peep over them. It wasn’t morning, it was night. Late, it felt like midnight had been and gone, the kind of night that he rarely saw. Because, as ever, he had left the pub at eleven and tried to get towards the station.

And then, apparently, fallen asleep on a bench. And then, he thought, poking his hand into his pocket, some idiot had stolen his phone. It had been a good phone too. The slats of the bench had pressed their shape into his back.

All around him, people were still wandering from place to place, with gaits from run to stagger, or the even more impressive stagger-whilst-vomiting. Phil shook his head to try and get it clear; at the moment, the whole square looked like a photograph post-Photoshop to him.

Plumes of light snaked from end to end, from one neon sign and on to another, as if they were bleeding into some central pool, and beneath it, people were running. That rickshaw driver was just circling the drain.

It was only five minutes to Charing Cross, he told himself, if that. He could make it, and if nothing else, there would be a roof or some reassuring sober grumpy people, and less shouting. They weren’t all speaking English, and he didn’t have a racist bone in his body, but the foreign languages were louder than any of the others and it was just making his disorientation worse.

He tried to make his way to the corner exit, only for his way to be blocked by a group of police grabbing a kid in a hood, almost elbowing Phil to the ground in their enthusiasm to dispense justice. No apology, either, just the rickshaw driver racing round for another lap, then finally turning off the square at the corner after his. He figured he’d wait until he’d made it home before reporting his phone, then. At least he still had his wallet.

Phil kept making his way down the side, muttering bitterly about why the damn police weren’t doing anything about the rickshaw that wasn’t even on a road, not to mention why they hadn’t woken him up hours ago. As he found his way onto the way that led down to Charing Cross, it was as if he’d shoved his way into some kind of feeder pipe.

This appeared to be the drunken pilgrimage of choice. Evidently, whatever time it was, it was kicking-out time. The entire of London, it seemed, were making their way down here, their Friday night finery in varying states of disarray. Phil’s good shirt wasn’t ripped, but that brown stain didn’t seem like it was ever coming out.

People were shouting and hugging each other, Phil hoped he looked grizzled and wide-eyed enough to keep everyone away. If someone were to go in for a hug now, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t cry on them.

So instead of going for a hug, one of the passers-by, perhaps thinking Phil was so out of it he wouldn’t notice, decided to reach into his trousers for his wallet. And, even though he was awake, the temptation was there to just let it go. He didn’t feel in any state to get in a fight with a healthy, opportunistic criminal.

Fortunately, even a well-build pick-pocket didn’t stand much of a chance against the rickshaw, which swerved around the end of the road, managed to weave past a few pedestrians, before finally losing control and smacking straight into Phil’s robber with a satisfying crunch.

True, Phil himself was knocked sideways, losing his balance and barely keeping his footing, but at least he wasn’t going to hospital to have his bones put back in. That arm was in at least four pieces. Feeling better about everything, Phil decided to walk purposefully down towards Charing Cross before the police made it down here to question anyone.

He would’ve called an ambulance for the guy, but damn, no phone.

Copyright me 2012, no stealing innit, email if you like. Thank you for reading. This story almost took place on a night bus, but that would’ve been too autobiographical. I once got approached at a night bus stop and asked where the local dogging spot was, y’know.

I do a guest post for DollyMix and discuss how Sherlock might escape his series two cliffhanger. Massive spoilers for the final episode of series two, obviously.

Tue, 24 Apr 2012 12:58:00 +0100

I do a guest post for DollyMix and discuss how Sherlock might escape his series two cliffhanger. Massive spoilers for the final episode of series two, obviously.

I put Joffrey's sexual kinks in perspective in my latest Game of Thrones review on The Digital Fix.

Tue, 24 Apr 2012 09:57:24 +0100

I put Joffrey's sexual kinks in perspective in my latest Game of Thrones review on The Digital Fix.