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Matt Dovey

11:21am, 16th March 2024

It's Been a While

Man, I am bad at updating this website. I mean, I have low expectations of myself, but even then I am limboing under them like a champ.

Anyway. In brief, for posterity:

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TAGS: appearance, Glasgow2024, news


12:00am, 17th February 2022

ephemera post-reading... post

If I have cast the bones correctly, this post should be magically going up just as ephemera 27: Companionship is starting on YouTube. My theory being, hopefully, that you're coming here to get the rest of the story I just read a bit of! In which case GOOD NEWS I have foreseen your need and prepared links for you:

Did you miss the live reading? WELL GOOD NEWS FOR YOU TOO the video is on YouTube and I've embedded it for you after the jump:

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TAGS: appearance


1:31pm, 10th February 2022

ephemera Reading - 16th Feb

The word The ephemera reading series has been run by Jen R. Albert and KT Bryski for a few years now, and featured some incredible writers during that time.

Rather excitingly, I'm now going to be one of them.

ephemera 27: Companionship will be live on YouTube on Wednesday 16th February at 7pm EST (so 0:00 Thursday 17th Feb UTC--going to be a late night for me) and will also feature readings by Vanessa Fogg and Tiffany Morris, plus a visual performance by Illestpreacha. I'll be reading an excerpt from a short; you should come watch, so you too can find out if I can pull off wearing my usual waistcoat-and-tie writer uniform over pyjama bottoms.

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TAGS: appearance


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About

Matt Dovey is a writer of short speculative fiction. He is very tall, very British, and probably drinking a cup of tea right now. His surname rhymes with “Dopey”, but any other similarities to the dwarf are purely coincidental. More →

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You're not a person, they say, circling. You're one of Them. From the other side.

They Say

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The crack in the window let in the ghosts. They came with the night breeze, whistling their mourning songs and carrying with them the stink of rotten water that lay across the paddocks, down past the crooked fence that bent and bowed where the earth had sunk away to let the sea creep closer. Where the salt ate the grass brown, then grey, before the water swallowed it up.

Children of the Tide by Dan Rabarts
Tales to Terrify #272

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“I'm a bone poet,” she said. “The bonethieves only ever work towards violence and supremacy. All the bones they steal are only to help them steal more bones. They never think of all the better ways bones can be used.”

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