UK Books! Brighton World Fantasy Convention 2025

I have returned! 

Frankly, half the plane was coughing, spitting and imitating the soon-to-be-deceased so I expect any minute now I'll start imitating the Exorcist.

[brief follow-up: I did indeed catch the flibble or whatever it was flying across the friendly skies and spent the week following my return coughing, sniveling and otherwise illing. Che sera, sera. But I did play Dispatch three times, soo ...] 

While I have the energy to type, let me tell you about books, and about the one that got away.

Bought at World Fantasy Con 2025, Brighton, from various vendors:

The Dagon Collection: An Auction Catalogue of Items Recovered in the Federal Raid on Innsmouth, Mass (ed. Nate Pedersen.2024 PS Publishing)

The Starry Wisdom Library: the Catalogue of the Greatest Occult Book Auction of All Time (ed. Nate Pedersen, 2014 PS Publishing).

No prizes for guessing why these two appealed to me. I haven't read either yet and expect to data mine these for interesting ideas rather than fall prone in ecstasy at the prose, but you never know your luck. I look forward to having items from both catalogues appear in subsequent campaigns I might run.

Night's Black Agents, (Fritz Leiber short story collection, Sphere 1977)

Uncle Silas (Sheridan LeFanu, Transworld 1966). 

You can't beat the gothics, and while Leiber's more of a modern I can't help but think of him in the gothic class. There's something about his word choice, his stylfgfsdse, that makes me put him in that group. I look forward to reading them both; I tried to get into Uncle Silas on the plane but that was a mistake. You can't concentrate on a long haul flight. I watched Mr. Vampire: Vampire vs Vampire instead.

The Pirate Queen: an almost-true story about Grace O'Malley (Charlie Hill, 2022 Stairwell Books)

The Go-To Guy (Neal Hardin, 2018 Stairwell Books)

Both bought on a whim and I haven't read either yet, though I have started Go-To Guy. It's a laugh, but I don't take it seriously, which is probably why I haven't finished it yet.

Audition for the Fox (Martin Cahill, 2025 Tachyon). 

Bought on a whim, and I haven't started it yet. I like the idea, but by God the vendor made it difficult to spend money. I think the Americans were hoping that the buyers at a World conference were all going to be English and planned accordingly. That was silly of them.

Korean Folk & Fairy Tales (ed. JK Jackston, 2025 Flame Tree).

A very pretty little thing. K-Pop Demon Hunters made me realize I don't know as much about Korean folklore as I ought, so I figured I'd rectify that omission. 

Cold Steel: Book II Fire Heart (Joyce Ch'ng, 2025 Snowy Wings).

Bought from the author. Again, I haven't had chance to more than glance at it. I look forward to it.

Now, for a few things I didn't buy at the con, some of which I've actually read:

Strange Houses (Uketsu, translated Jim Rion, 2025 Pushkin Press)

The Samurai Detectives (Shotaro Ikenami, translated Yui Kajita, originally 1973, Penguin 2025).

Both bought at Waterstones. Samurai Detectives is vol 1; vol 2 isn't due until Feb 2026. This is the first time Ikenami-san's work has appeared in English. I've read both and highly recommend them to anyone who likes action, swordplay, historical drama (Samurai Detectives) and peculiar, terrible horrors (Strange Houses). 

Soldiers Three/Under the Deodars/Phantom Rickshaw (Rudyard Kipling, publisher unknown, publication date unknown, hardback rebound edition of works originally published at the turn of the century).

I don't know what to make of this one. It must be a reproduction but I've no idea who put it together or when. The only clue I have is a notation on the inner cover: bound by W.J. Askew, Plymouth. It's a hardbound version collecting three shorter paperbound volumes. Each paperbound is a faithful copy of books that would have been sold for One Rupee via the Indian Railway Library. I can't help but think this must be one volume from a larger Kipling repro collection of some kind, though it's not labeled as such and there's no indication on the frontispiece or back pages. It's a completely faithful copy right down to the advertisements, so if ever you wanted to know what was on offer back in 1890-whatsit, now you can. Probably very useful for those of you who like to mock-up props; a scanner and better Photoshop skills than mine will serve you well. Not sure when the reproduction was issued. Guessing by quality of hardcover, paper and spotting I'd say probably 1970s, but honestly it's a complete guess. Bought at Oxfam, Greenwich.

More Penguin Science Fiction; Yet More Penguin Science Fiction (ed. Brian Aldiss, Penguin 1964 & 1966).

Classic science fiction which means there shall be all sorts of unintended comedy, but I look forward to it. Various authors, of course. Bought at Just Vintage, Greenwich Market.

A brief word on the one that got away. 

Just Vintage has in its collection a first edition of an M.R. James publication, 1911, More Ghost Stories of an Antiquary. Selling for a little under 700 quid. Now, I'm a huge fan, as you know. I was greatly tempted. But our climate is death to books of that sort, never mind the roaches, and I'd be heartbroken if I was indirectly responsible for destroying such a thing as this, after a hundred years. So I left it on the shelf and am still gnashing teeth. 

Murder at the Black Cat Cafe includes Why Did The Well Wheel Creak (Seishi Yokomizo, translation Brian Karetnyk, 2025 Pushkin Press)

Suddenly At His Residence (Christianna Brand, British Library edition 2023, first published 1946)

Tour de Force (Christianna Brand, Library edition 2024, first published 1955)

All bought at Foyles.

I've a lot of respect for Brand as a plotter of mysteries. She plays fair. You know going in that you've as much information as you need to identify the culprit. You also know that your odds of doing so are next to nil. I've read both and can recommend to period mystery lovers. No, I didn't solve the crimes. 

Yokomizo-san is someone I've read before and enjoyed. He's basically pulp mystery; strange corpses, lashings of blood, peculiar and horrific events. Like Brand, Yokomiso-san plays fair. Also like Brand, odds are you won't work out who did it. Read this in the airport going home, can thoroughly recommend. 

The Sutra of Pale Leaves, (various authors/artists, Chaosium 2025)

Alien Clay, (Adrian Tchaikovsky, Subterranean Press 2025)

Both gifts, and I'm incredibly grateful.

I haven't had time to more than glance at Sutra, but from what little I've seen it's exactly the kind of campaign I'd enjoy. The Yellow King is one of those entities that deserves an artistic touch and by the looks of things that's exactly what it gets. I particularly like Chapter 4: the Pallid Masks of Tokyo - such an interesting idea!

What did I think of the convention? I liked it a lot. It lacks the go-to and busyiness of an American convention. It's less focused, less well organized. But it has a heart that some American conventions lack. I confess to a little bias in that I like Brighton very much and thoroughly enjoy visiting there. I had a little time to wander round and, if you find yourself in Brighton, I think you should visit Snoopers Paradise, the all-for-all flea market. Also, Coho is a great way to start the day with coffee and danish. 

Would I go again? I'm thinking about it. I'm told the 2027 con is in Canada and that's a hell of a lot easier to get to, from my perspective. I am in absolutely no hurry to make it to California in 2026. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening. But Canada? Canada's doable. 

Finally, uncle Kevin.

I stopped by Raining Books. It's as I remember. Shut up, of course. Lord knows what's going to happen to the place and I dread to think what the condition of the books in there is now. Never mind that leaky roof.  It's been nearly a year, and I doubt the builders have been in to patch anything up. But I was grateful to have the chance to stop by and say farewell. His ex-wife left a lovely tribute to his memory up on the door, and there were other posts as well.

See you later, mate.   

 

 

Blair4 - Good Times, Bad Times

OK, the stage is set and the main actors are waiting for their cue. The opening act is about to start - but what should it be?

The first act should set up the rest of the show, and you can't have a tragedy without a little victory beforehand. Macbeth has his glorious moment in battle before his meeting with the weird women, Romeo his romance with Juliet. That taste of victory makes the tragedy to come all the more bitter. 

There's lots of options, but for my money there are two big moments that define the early years of Blair, one of which is right in the heart of London and couldn't be more iconic. 

The first is the Good Friday Agreement which put an end to the Troubles and brought about demilitarization and peace in Ireland; great for those players who really enjoy political negotiations, with potential for some high-tension moments. 

The other is the Millennium Dome project. So iconic it features (briefly) in Ultraviolet, defines the early years of the Blair premiership, and has as its capstone an honest-to-God jewel robbery complete with a high speed boat chase on the Thames. 

I know which one I'd pick. 

The Dome's one of those moments of overweening pride that, in hindsight, looks ridiculous but at the time seemed iconic. The original, relatively small-scale project conceived under the Tories as a kind of celebration of British ingenuity becomes an over-baked extravaganza as Blair pours money and optimism into the thing. 

The video keeps nattering about how it's in Greenwich, and technically it's not wrong. Speaking as someone who lived near there, it is in Greenwich. The awful, neglected bit of Greenwich. The dumpster fire end. The Greenwich everyone wants to see is further south, with the Market, the Cutty Sark, Brunel's under-river tunnel, the Meridian, the Observatory, the National Maritime Museum. The Dome is huddled on the Peninsula, like a boil on Greenwich's rump. 

The Peninsula is where the old gasworks used to be, and a whole bunch of other high-pollution industries, most of which were dead by the later 20th century. The kind of place they used as background for cop shows like the Sweeny, all empty factories and deserted streets, great for shootings and car chases. Imagine the toxic wasteland you'd find left over from a century or more of heavy industry. That's where they put the Dome. Also, some relatively cheap housing - at least, cheap by London standards.  

You couldn't even get there easily, not until the North Greenwich Jubilee station opened, and that was a late arrival. These days there are new roads, a Thames Clipper Shuttle stop, new bus routes, even a cable car over the river. Before the tube station opened in 1999 it was shank's mare or bust. 

There are all kinds of stories to be told, culminating most likely in Operation Magician to catch the jewel thieves intent on ram-raiding the DeBeers display in November 2000 - no doubt backed heavily by the Conspiracy. 

It's all new build, so something along the lines of 'we found this odd thing while digging the foundations for' [whatever it may be - the Jubilee Station seems an obvious pick] is an excellent starter. All very Quatermass, which fits any setting from Alien to Damned.

 

Then there's the displays, inside and out. You've got all the main events, Who We Are, What We Do, Where We Live, plus the art installations and other showpieces being set up outside the Dome ready for the big opening in 2000. Any of them could hide some Conspiracy plot, mind control device, peculiar necromantic summoning, or whatever-you-like. An Alien Stone hidden inside the Night Rain contemplation area, an over-complicated plot by Linea Dracula assigns to manipulate the Where We Live exhibit so as to effectively remove the Block that prevents vampires from entering a space if they haven't been invited, an attempt to spread the Vukodlak Plague via the many commemorative tchotchkes on sale - you can get away with almost anything inside a space designed to evoke wonder and awe by playing with what you see and hear.  

If you're wondering how far you can go, remember that we live in a world where this happened, and I defy you to invent a notion half as nutty:

Sourced from Kento Bento

So that's the start. What should the opening chapters be like?

Successful, for the most part. This is a tragedy. For a tragedy to have any impact there has to be a downfall, and you can't have a downfall without some initial, visible success. Romeo falls in love, Othello defeats all comers in court as well as on the battlefield, Macbeth is made Thane of Cawdor and Glamis, and is emboldened to murder Duncan and become King. 

So from a game perspective the agents are probably facing off against anything up to a Level 4 Node, and winning, for the most part. Not necessarily easy victories, and if some friends or allies get dusted along the way that's the cost of doing business. Still, they've yet to really come face-to-face with the Vampires at the heart of the Conspiracy. 

These are the Good Times. 

You can set the stage for the Bad Times to come with the opening shots in the Kosovo War. Blair's heavily involved in the planning and wins the 1999 Charlemagne Prize for his work. How appropriate would it be if, while Blair is taking center stage in the ceremony at Aachen, the agents are busy fending off Conspiracy plotters behind the scenes? Perhaps they're trying to steal some scientific wonder, or trying to suborn members of Blair's government or family. Skulking around the Town Hall on the day of ceremony trying not to get spotted sounds like something every NBA character ought to attempt at least once in their career.  

Shortly after that comes the General Election in June 2001, and in November planes fly into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.

The Bad Times begin in earnest.

That's it for this week. Enjoy!