Saturday, January 14, 2017

Mysterious entranceways to Egypt adventure - fiction series

Amazon Kindle and selected paperback

Thursday, January 12, 2017

The gods are in the details - BM Egyptian Mummies Exhibition in Sydney

A fine set of Canopic jars - stern little guardians of the innards
Tomb mourning scene detail
Interesting to see perfume-fat cones balanced on the heads of mummy cases - recent theory has suggested these cones were symbolic of a fragrant being and not actually worn 
Impish god Bes - frightening away evil spirits with what looks like a song-and-dance-man flourish
Charming little female-form container - girl with a lute

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

IS IAN FLEMING COMING UP TRUMPS in 2017? ’From Russia with Love', a honey-trap, a 2-way mirror, filming by agents, a former British agent...

An old fiction favourite rears into today's headlines

Fiction and Fact of another sort today...

I’m not saying that the sordid suggestions we’re hearing about Russian attempts to compromise Donald Trump is fiction (or fact), but there are some astonishing echoes of the James Bond novel and movie "From Russia with Love..."

Recall the honey-trap scene in the book... enemy operatives behind a two-way mirror secretly filming the hotel-suite liaison between Bond and the Russian beauty Tatiana Romanova... how the voyeurs were described as having the sweat trickling down inside their cheap collars as they collect their compromising evidence...

Are we back in the Fifties?

From Russia With Love by Ian Fleming (Original publication date 8th April, 1957)

New issue TEXT MESSAGES FROM ETERNITY - An adventurous Egypt read

New on Amazon Kindle

Monday, January 9, 2017



It is a cliche older than the appearance of the first round-eyed tourists on the banks of the Nile, such as the Greek historian Herodotus, that Egypt was the ‘gift of the Nile’.

A claim heard less often is that civilization itself is the gift of ancient Egypt.

Pyramids, mummies and the concept of an afterlife, medicine, our calendar, writing... We can even thank ancient Egypt for inventing written drama with the first (Osirian) passion plays.   
What, no ancient Egypt, no fiction?

In this age of cultural repatriation, I sometimes have nightmares about ancient Egypt somehow taking it all back.

Everything Egypt gave us.

The ancient Greeks and Romans acknowledged the gift.

Egypt gave us the first nation state, the twenty-four hours of the day, the 365 days of the year, the first great buildings in stone, architecture, astronomy, medicine, paper, writing, even the invention of fictional dramatic stories recorded in writing…

Then there is religion.

Take away Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dream Coat, Moses and The Ten Commandments, The Exodus, the life-saving flight of baby Jesus with the holy family to Egypt, as well as every biblical reference to Egypt, and the Bible becomes a novella.

Ancient Egypt also gave us the ultimate symbolic landscape for dreaming.  A sense of eternity made captive in art and stone.


Saturday, January 7, 2017

Ancient Egypt and our OBSESSION WITH THE PAST

The unpredictability of the past

There is a saying:  ‘Now, one cannot know what the past will do.’

For me, as a writer of ancient Egypt-based fiction, the past is not dead and gone, not settled dust. It’s always changing, doing things.

The past will change in our view of it, it will change our view of now, and it will change our view of tomorrow.

It can and will surprise us.

The past is a dynamic always working on us, pushing forward like a wave. While the future by comparison is the blank space ahead of the wave, theoretical potentiality, inert and, in a sense, dead.

The past has a way of doing things that nobody can guess. We make a mistake to bury it.

What does the past do for you?

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

“You mean the Egyptian exhibition has inspired a serial killer?” she said.


“You mean the exhibition has inspired a serial killer?” she said.
“I told you the poster was unsettling.”
“And you of course have a theory.”
“I do. Whose mummy is at the centre of this exhibition?”
Why was he asking?
“The Middle Kingdom Queen Sobekneferu, a queen who came to rule as a pharaoh. The discovery of her tomb near the oasis city near Crocodilopolis recently made world headlines and this is a special touring exhibition to boost Egyptian tourism.”
“Yes, but she’s famous for something else.”
“Okay. She extended the lost labyrinth of her father Amenemhat III in the Faiyum Oasis area. She also had a unique affiliation with the crocodile god Sobek. In fact her name, Sobekneferu, means ‘Beauty of Sobek’.”
“Correct. And what was it about the crocodile god Sobek?”
“Jon, you have the coaching air of a professor. I’m the Egyptologist, you’re the gifted amateur,” she said to the stolen antiquities detective.
“Go with me on this.”
“Sobek, the crocodile god, was a zoomorphic god depicted with a human body and a crocodile’s head. Like the violent Nile crocodile, he was the ferocious protector of the pharaoh.”
“Exactly. Now someone, or something, is killing people around the British Museum where the Crocodile Queen Exhibition is about to open.”
“Hang on, this happened around here? I’ve heard nothing about it.”
“No, it’s been kept quiet. The killings happened beneath the museum. In the sewers nearby, in fact. There’s been an electrician killed, a fibre optic cable worker, a sewer maintenance worker. That we know of. And a growing list of people have gone missing.”
“Attacked by a crocodile?”
He swayed in uncertainty.
“Well, let’s just say the remains showed the marks of a crocodile’s teeth. Skulls crushed in by powerful jaws. Protective hard hats crushed like eggshells.”
“But how could a crocodile get down into the sewer?”
“Ah, but is it a crocodile?” he said.
“What else? A serial killer with a croc’s head? Maybe I should have a go at the impossible for a change,” she said. “Let’s see. The killer is actually the ancient Egyptian god Sobek, half man, half crocodile and he’s been dormant all these years. Maybe some amateur archaeologist brought him here from Egypt when the sewers were first built and then decided to get rid of him. But now the mummy of Queen Sobekneferu pops up in London, so the crocodile god has suddenly come awake and he’s mad as hell and creating havoc. Doing his job of protecting the female pharaoh...”
Jon gulped his coffee.
“Where do you get this stuff from, Jennefer?”
She kicked him under the table.
“The unadorned facts, please...”