So, please dive into Kathy’s isolated work at the oil rig and experience the horror she brings.

The Moirai Shadow

Kathy stood back, shielding her eyes as the rotor blades whipped the air into a frenzy. She took one last look at Lindon’s silhouette behind the glass before the helicopter began its ascent. Mist swirled around the platform, clinging to the iron struts and giving the rig a ghostly, skeletal appearance. The machine hovered for a moment, suspended two feet above the deck; on the far side, the heavy door slammed shut with a metallic echo, and then it rose, vanishing into the grey.

Kathy turned away, unable to watch him leave despite the promise that they would be reunited in a fortnight. They had rowed about her staying behind last night, but she had remained firm. She needed to see the project through, to shut the rig down properly and organise a year’s worth of research before returning to the mainland.

Feeling foolish, she turned back to watch the helicopter cut across the sky, now no larger than a child’s toy. She followed it with her eyes until the speck vanished over the horizon. All she was left with now was the endless, churning sea, the howling wind, and her skeleton staff: three scientists and two security guards.

It had all started a year ago when she was appointed to head a research team on this decommissioned oil rig. Their remit was to study a strange strain of prehistoric algae. What started as a routine discovery mission shifted the moment the results came back. The algae, nicknamed Moirai, turned out to be more virulent than anthrax. Six months ago, the military had moved in. Now, they were being told the rig was finally being mothballed. Or so they thought.

Kathy retreated to her quarters. The wind threw itself against the glass, making the frames rattle in their surrounds. The room had felt homely when she shared it with Lindon; now, it felt hollowed out and deserted, much like the rest of the superstructure. She pulled the curtains shut. There was nothing to see anyway, just endless black water stretching in all directions. Two weeks. Fourteen days, and she would put this episode behind her to start a new chapter.

A sharp knock at the door broke her trance. Jane, tall and blonde, filled the doorway. “Lindon got off okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. No problems,” Kathy replied, forcing a small smile.

Jane walked over and wrapped her arms around her. “You’ll be back with him before you know it. Until then, we’ve plenty to keep us busy.”

Kathy embraced her friend tightly. “I know. Where’s Tom?”

“Cleaning out Lab Three. We’re almost done; he’s packed everything he can. The goons were circling earlier, making sure nothing ‘confidential’ was being nicked.”

“Were we stupid, Jane?” Kathy asked quietly. “Not to see where this was going?”

“I’m not even sure the company knew. Let’s just get this over with and get home.”

Kathy nodded. When they had first arrived, she had revelled in the isolation. Now, the rig felt like a cage.

“Coming down for dinner?” Jane asked.

“I don’t fancy it. Do you mind if I bail? I think I’m just going to sleep.”

“Okay, sweetheart. We’ll see you tomorrow. Start the countdown, only fourteen days.” Jane gave her a final squeeze before stepping out, the heavy door clanging shut behind her.

Despite her racing mind, Kathy fell into a deep, heavy sleep, drained by the emotional toll of the departure. She woke with a start as her door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang.

“You need to come. Now!” Jane screamed.

“What? What time is it?” Kathy sat up, disoriented.

“Two in the morning. Kathy, something awful has happened.” Jane was hysterical, practically dragging Kathy from the bed. Kathy grabbed a hoodie, pulling it over her pyjamas, and followed Jane into the corridor. The rig moaned in the gale, the very foundations seemingly vibrating with dread.

They raced down the internal staircases to the lower levels, to the pool where the submersible was docked. As they reached the platform, Kathy saw Tom. He looked ashen.

“Thank God,” he breathed.

“What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to start stripping the sub. The water usually calms me... that’s when I found them. I should have known something was wrong; the door was already unlocked.”

“Found who?” Kathy asked.

“Bert and Ernie. The guards.”

The room was circular, dominated by the gaping hole in the floor where the ocean churned below. On the far side of the platform, Kathy saw a tangled mess of hair and gore. A few feet away lay a second, indistinct mound.

Kathy knelt as close as she dared, the metallic stench of blood coating the back of her throat. She reached out to turn the head towards her to identify the man. She recoiled instantly. The nose had been sheared off. One eye had been torn from its socket, dangling against a pale cheek by a single, white nerve cord. The lower jaw was gone, along with an arm and a foot. Even after six months of daily contact, she couldn’t tell which guard it was.

“The second one is worse,” Tom whispered. It looked as though the body had been dismantled; limbs had been torn from their sockets and flung across the cold steel floor.

“Who did this?” Jane sobbed.

“I don’t know,” Kathy said, her voice trembling. “But we need to get out of here in case they’re still in the room. Move!”

She shoved the others toward the exit, slamming the door and sliding the deadbolt. “Help me!” She began heaving a heavy equipment cabinet across the doorway to barricade it.

They spent the remainder of the night huddled in the mess room. No one ate. They simply clutched mugs of tea for warmth, never taking a sip. They ran through every scenario, but none made sense. Tom suggested an intruder, but the scanners showed no movement since the helicopter had departed twelve hours earlier.

“Maybe someone got off the chopper?” Jane suggested.

“I was there,” Kathy insisted. “From landing to take-off. No one got off, I promise you.”

The only explanation, however impossible, was an animal.

“But what animal?” Tom asked.

“Maybe something we don’t know about,” Kathy replied darkly. “After all, we didn’t know about Moirai a year ago.”

By seven that morning, the research didn’t matter. The evidence against the government didn’t matter. They just wanted to live. They headed to the communications centre to demand an emergency evacuation. Tom dropped into the chair and began toggling switches frantically.

The radio was dead. No static, no lights, no life. Kathy saw silent tears track through the dust on Jane’s face.

“Don’t worry, we have the satellite phones,” Kathy said, though her heart was hammering. She opened the storage locker. Her stomach dropped. The cradles were empty. Every single phone was gone.

“Fuck,” Tom whispered over her shoulder.

“We’re stuck. We’re going to die here!” Jane’s voice rose to a scream. “I’m taking the lifeboat. I don’t care about the storm, I’m not staying here to be eaten!”

Jane bolted for the door.

“Jane, wait!” they yelled, racing after her. Kathy caught her by the arm. “You’ll die out there in this swell! We stay here, together. We stay away from the pool and the water. It’s only thirteen days. When the scheduled pickup arrives, we leave. We just have to wait it out.”

Kathy wished she felt even half as confident as she sounded.

For the next ten days, they lived in a state of hyper-vigilance. They moved as a pack, never leaving one person alone, even outside the washrooms. The wind battered the rig, throwing salt spray against the high windows, but the interior remained deathly silent.

Kathy didn’t know what woke her on their final night. She opened her eyes and felt the wrongness of the room immediately. The familiar sounds of her friends’ breathing were gone. The room was silent.

Fuming that they had left her alone, she hurried to the control room. The thermal sensors showed two heat signatures on the external deck. What on earth are they doing out there?

She pulled on an oilskin coat and pushed through the heavy exterior door. The wind nearly took her off her feet. Reasoning that a fall into the Atlantic would be fatal, she threw the switches for the floodlights, illuminating the platform in a harsh, white glare. For protection, she grabbed a fire axe from the emergency red box.

She moved toward the corner where the sensors had tripped, the winch station. The machinery was whirring, the cable inching slowly downward. She leaned over the railing. In the churning foam below, she saw the dark, triangular fins of sharks.

Then, the floodlights hit the man dangling from the winch. When he looked up, Kathy found herself staring into the terrified eyes of Tom. He didn’t scream; he couldn’t. He opened his mouth and a wet, gargling sound emerged just as a shark breached the surface, latching onto his leg and dragging the cable taut.

Kathy lunged for the controls to reverse the winch. The electronics had been smashed to pieces. She searched for the manual crank handle, missing. She tried to jam the axe handle into the gear socket, but it wouldn’t fit.

Hope drained out of her. She looked back over the edge. Tom was gone from the waist down, the sea turning a violent crimson as the frenzy intensified. He looked into her eyes one last time before the light faded from his.

A piercing scream erupted from the far side of the rig. A woman’s scream.

Kathy ran. Halfway across the deck, she realised with a jolt of horror that she had left the axe behind.

She found Jane. Her friend was standing perfectly still, her head locked into the frame of the industrial crusher. The machine had been tilted on its side, the heavy hydraulic plates moving inward with agonising slowness. Jane was handcuffed to the frame, a metal rod bolted behind her neck to keep her spine straight.

“Talk to me!” Kathy sobbed.

Jane opened her mouth. Kathy gagged. Jane’s tongue had been removed, leaving only a jagged, bloody stump. The plates were already beginning to fold Jane’s ears back.

“I’ll get you out, I promise!” Kathy screamed. She grabbed a metal pole from a nearby bannister, using it as a lever to try and pry the plates apart. The industrial hydraulics didn’t even flicker; the pole snapped like a twig. Jane’s eyes turned bloodshot from the pressure. She looked through Kathy, her gaze fixing on something behind her.

Then, Jane’s head gave way like a ripe melon.

An arm snaked around Kathy’s shoulders, pulling her back. A familiar, warm voice whispered in her ear.

“You really shouldn’t have chosen them over me, Kathy.”

He released his grip. Kathy spun around, staring into the eyes of the only man she had ever loved. “Lindon? Why?”

“All my life, I’ve been second best,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “Second to my brother, second in my class. You were supposed to be different. But you put me second to them. You stayed for them instead of leaving with me.”

“But... I saw you leave. The helicopter...”

“You saw me get in. You didn’t look long enough to see me get out. You were too keen to get back to your friends.”

Kathy remembered the door slamming. He had closed it from the inside and slipped out the other side while the mist shielded him.

“We’re going to take a romantic trip to the bottom of the ocean in the sub,” he smiled.

“The hull isn’t rated for that depth, Lindon. You know that.”

“I know. We’ll be together for eternity. Now, are you walking, or am I carrying you?”

“I’m walking,” she spat.

The stench of the pool room was unbearable. He shoved her through the door toward the two putrefied remains of the guards.

“Sit there,” he commanded, pointing to the gore-slicked floor between the corpses.

Kathy collapsed, sobbing as the fluids from the bodies soaked into her clothes. Lindon ignored her, humming to himself as he punched in the launch sequence for the submarine.

Her leg brushed against a severed limb. She began to gag, but then she saw it: the glint of a combat knife tucked into the dead guard’s boot. Moving with agonising slowness, she kept her eyes on Lindon’s back. She slid the blade free and hid it up her sleeve.

Lindon turned with a flourish. “Finished. I thought we could go watch the sharks. Shall we?”

He grabbed her by the shoulder as they reached the sub’s hatch.

“Take your clothes off. You stink of them.”

She began to undress, her hands shaking. As Lindon bent down to unlatch the heavy circular hatch, Kathy lunged. She shoved him with every ounce of strength she possessed and bolted for the exit.

Lindon was fast. He caught her by the hair, yanking her head back. Kathy spun, the hidden blade flashing in the light. She buried the knife deep into his eye socket.

He shrieked, releasing her. She threw herself through the door and slammed it shut just as he surged forward. The heavy steel edge struck the hilt of the knife, driving the blade through his skull. He fell backwards.

Michael Abrahams settled the helicopter onto the ‘H’ with practised ease. He was here to evacuate the remaining five staff before the government sanitised the rig; blowing it to pieces to bury the Moirai secret forever.

He spotted a lone woman slumped against the railing. He hopped out of the cockpit and approached her. Michael had worked with many veterans, but he had never seen a look as haunting as the one in this woman’s eyes.

“You Kathy?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where are the others?”

She didn’t look at him. “There aren’t any. It’s just me. Can we go?”

Every bit of Michael’s training told him to ask more questions. But the sight of her shaking hands stopped him. He helped her into the cabin.

As he climbed back into the pilot’s seat and started the rotors, Michael felt a chill that his thermal flight suit couldn’t block. Looking back at the rig through the glass, he felt as though the Devil itself was watching them depart. The best thing for this place, he decided, was for it to be reduced to pieces.

Just a heads-up, this is the last newsletter you’ll get from me on a Sunday. Before you all start crying and begging me—no, the newsletter isn’t stopping. The day is simply changing to Friday.

Now, for those of you who hate change, like my daughter, I am hoping you will let my little newsletter nestle in your inbox until Sunday. You can then pick it up and read it as part of your usual routine.

For those of you who embrace a little chaos, you will receive the next edition on Friday. It will continue to land every other week. In the opposite weeks, when I am not telling you about my writing journey, I will be sharing my reading with you on The Book Chronicles.

Of course, if you like a little murder, mayhem, and history, you can find this every Monday and Wednesday on Murder Mayhem UK.

The other change you will notice in this newsletter is that I am going to start sharing some of my fiction short stories with you. They have been waiting on my main page for you to explore since this newsletter began, but I have not yet sent them to you via email for you to enjoy.

On 19th June, you will receive your first short story from me—a horror story set on an oil rig. You can check out my other short stories here:

Fiction

I really hope you stay with me for this ride.

Until next time: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

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We’ve all been there. You stare at the blinking cursor. The cursor stares back. It’s a silent, digital standoff, and right now, the cursor is winning. That has been me this week.

Sometimes there is not enough time to wait for the mythical inspiration fairy to turn up. Sometimes you just have to write. Even though your motivation is down a hole. If famous writers only wrote when they were motivated, then most of the books, articles, and newsletters out there would never exist.

I have a few methods I use when I feel like this. Maybe one of these will help you when the writing slump hits.

Lower the Bar

Perfectionism is the absolute enemy of progress. When you lack motivation, the thought of writing a masterpiece feels exhausting. So, don’t try to.

Permit yourself to write absolute rubbish. Tell yourself, “I am going to write the worst first draft in human history.” Ryan Holiday talks a lot about how the only goal he sets for himself is two crappy pages a day. It frees your brain from the pressure. You can easily fix a page of bad writing; you can’t fix a blank page.

Change the Scenery

If you’ve been sitting at the same desk, staring at the same monitor for hours, your brain goes into a stagnation loop. Break the circuit.

Move to the kitchen table, sit on the floor, or head to a local cafe. If the screen itself is the problem, step away from it entirely. Grab a notebook and a favourite pen, or pull out an iPad and an Apple Pencil to scribble things down by hand.

There is a strange, tactile magic in physical writing that often bypasses the mental blocks standard typing creates.

Use the 10-Minute Micro-Timer

When motivation is zero, committing to a three-hour writing session feels like climbing Everest. It’s too intimidating, so you procrastinate instead. I have even been known to favour the washing-up over writing.

Trick your brain by bargaining with it.

Set a timer on your watch or phone for just 10 minutes. Tell yourself that you only have to write until the alarm goes off, and if you still want to quit after that, you have full permission to walk away.

Nine times out of ten, once you break the friction of starting, the momentum carries you right past the 10-minute mark.

Follow the Energy, Not the Outline

If you’re working on a longer piece, you do not have to write it chronologically. If chapter one or the introduction feels like wading through wet cement, skip it.

Look ahead at your outline and find the one section, scene, or tip that actually sparks a tiny bit of interest. Write that part first.

Writing is modular; you can stitch the pieces together later. Capturing a bit of genuine enthusiasm anywhere in the piece will help generate the momentum you need to tackle the drier bits.

How do you tackle the blank page when you’re feeling completely uninspired? Let me know your go-to tricks in the comments!

Until next time: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

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2 months ago · Sam H Arnold

This might be the craziest thing I have done to date, but I have started a new Substack not a newsletter but a completely new Substack dedicated to my working life as a full-time teacher of students with additional needs.

The new Substack felt the right way to go, the content is completely different and nothing I have ever included in my writing. Yes, I will need to grow it, but many of my followers here may not be interested in education.

In the newsletter, I plan to share educational resources, tips and tricks. Over thirty years of teaching have meant I have created a massive amount of resources and these are what I want to share with you all. So whether you are a parent or a teacher there should be something to help you here.

To give you an example, one of the key texts in the GCSE English Literature exam is An Inspector Calls, so this week I shared a revision guide for the book, covering the key information a student will need before their exam. With my knowledge of SEN (special educational needs), this is not a boring sheet of notes; it is broken up in a way that all can appreciate. If you are interest there is a link below to it.

This might seem like a lot of work and it is, but this feels right to share what I have learned over all these years and to put my company on Substack which is fast becoming one of the leading platforms in generating contacts.

Check it out if you are interested.

Until next time: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Mistakes are learning opportunities.

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There is a common mistake that writers are making with their Substack and it is a problem that I was making until very recently. They are relying on their header and footer to drive their subscriptions. The problem with this is that these sign-ups only show up on emails which means the person has already subscribed.

Yes, there is a subscribe button when people find your posts but it is not your personal message to your readers.

If a person finds you through a search engine, a social media post, or organically through Substack, they will not see your header or footer.

So how do you remedy this?

The solution is simple, take that information you are using and place it into Substack’s new template feature. It is easy to do: go into a post, click template, add new, and put the information in there. Then when you produce a post slip the template in where you want to. You don’t have to keep producing the same sign-up -templates take care of that, but those who access your articles through one of the methods previously mentioned will see it.

Until next time: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Update

I have hit a bit of a reading slump at the moment, I can find many things to do rather than pick up a book. When I get to this stage I never push it I let my brain rest and know that I will get back to reading at some point.

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Drop me a comment: Do you have a writing related question you need answering.

Leave a comment

Subscribe today: If you enjoyed this article then consider subscribing for more

Subscribe now

Substack released a wealth of new features this month, including drop caps and templates. Although, I welcome belonging to a progressive platform that adds new features all the time a drop capital is not going to get your readers and subscribers.

Do you know what will?

Quality writing resonates with your readers. Whether you write about history, as I do, or the mating cycle of a tortoise as long as people are interested they will subscribe.

Many marketers will tell you they can train you to do this, but I am here to tell you that writing should be a passion and you improve the more you do it. Still want to learn more then find a free YouTube video or buy a book.

Having said that I am sure there are questions that niggle at you. That was when I started and I was lucky enough to have two amazing mentors who answered my mundane questions for free, when I started on Medium. Shout out to and .

I am also here to answer the questions that niggle so hit reply to this email and ask away. I will answer as many as I can, and in the next newsletter do a round-up for you all.

So whether it’s about books, writing, Substack, or history and crime hit reply and ask away.

The only stupid question is the one not asked

Until next time: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

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3 months ago · 2590 likes

The cabin was narrow: a dark world that smelled of wood and polish. For Silas, it was a palace of endless bounty, every corner revealing something new and wonderful. He pressed his body against the side, feeling the rhythmic vibration of the great vessel’s heart.

“Is it time to move again?” Elena whispered beside him. Her voice was a soft breath in his ear. It felt like they had been travelling for weeks; in truth, it may only have been hours. The anxiety of constantly moving and avoiding detection had exhausted Elena on the lower decks.

“Just a little longer,” Silas replied. “I like it here.” Silas loved every part of the ship. Elena saw it as a necessity to escape, but nothing more. Her only focus was to stay undetected until they reached dry land.

They were an inseparable pair, two souls bound by a singular mission: to survive the Great Voyage. They were not among the dignitaries on the upper decks. They had no polished brass nameplates or velvet-lined quarters. They were the stowaways, the uninvited, the ones who lived in the margins of the blueprints.

The memories of the boarding remained vivid. It had been a chaotic, rhythmic march. Silas remembered the thunderous footsteps of the Great Ones, the massive, heavy-treaded passengers who boarded in strict, ceremonial duos.

Everywhere Silas looked, the world had been divided into twos as the passengers moved up the ramp onto the great ship. Some moved slowly. Some sprinted. Some kept their heads down, not wanting to be recognised, while others puffed out their chests so that all recognised them for the kings they were.

The sound would stay with Silas the longest: the constant hum of voices competing, the cries of a predator, and the whispers of those less powerful. The smells, the sounds, and the sights had all merged into one kaleidoscope of senses that Silas would never forget. This was a voyage unlike any other.

“They think they are the only ones who matter,” Elena had remarked as they sneaked onboard, tucking themselves into a corner where no one would look. “They carry their pedigrees and their divine right, while we carry only our hunger, and move constantly to avoid detection”

Silas didn’t care for the politics of the upper deck. He cared for the world around him. The ship was a marvel of engineering - massive, sprawling, and built with a singular purpose.

He had heard the passengers talking in the echoes of the vents. They spoke of a new world, a “Reset,” and the cleansing of the old ways. “If the world is being reborn,” Silas muttered, “then it needs a foundation. And we are simply... refining it. We are as important to the new world as any of those on the upper deck.” It was clear from her expression that Elena did not agree.

Above them, the Great Ones were fed regularly with food that could only be dreamed of. Down in the depths, Silas and Elena found themselves getting a bite to eat wherever they could. They slid past the other occupants when no one was looking, finding even the slightest morsel to fulfil their hunger.

They became the masters of unclean corners. They watched for gaps where they could hide and fill their stomachs with food that no one else considered edible. They stayed hidden until they satisfied their hunger and their stomachs had stopped rumbling. Silas would then want to go and stare at the other occupants, but Elena preferred to stay hidden.

They were not the only ones sneaking around corners. Occasionally, they would catch a glimpse of another couple hiding out of the way, unnoticed by the top-deck passengers or those who served this great ship.

“We are the forgotten guest list,” Silas joked.

“Do you think the ship will hold?” Elena asked, her eyes reflecting the dim light of a flickering lamp from the hallway. “The vibrations are changing. The weight of the water outside feels heavier.”

“It’s a sturdy vessel,” Silas assured her. “Built to last an eternity. Or at least until we reach dry land.”

They spent their nights, or what they perceived as nights, burrowing deeper. They memorised intricate, lace-like tunnels through the heart of the ship. Anything to stop the hunger and stay alive.

It was a strange day when Silas noticed a change in the atmosphere. The frantic energy of the boarding had been replaced by a heavy, stagnant dread. The Great Ones were restless. There was a roaring noise that had not been there before, followed by a silence, as if everyone was collectively holding their breath.

The staff they glimpsed from their hold looked tired and worried as they rushed about the ship. Elena observed, “They walk as if the weight of the whole world is on their shoulders.”

“There is nothing wrong,” Silas replied. “We would know if there was.”

“But we are not even on the passenger list. How would anyone know to look for us?” Elena replied.

Silas was not paying attention. He had snuggled down in a junction where three massive beams met near the very bottom of the hull. It was the keel, the spine of the entire ship. He was happy here, warm, with enough food to see him through to the end of the voyage.

“Silas, maybe we should stop,” Elena whispered, feeling the timber groan under the pressure of the surrounding sea. “I can hear the water whispering on the other side. It sounds angry. Maybe we should make others aware we are here. We are too far across for them to put us out now, surely.”

“Just one more tunnel, Elena. We need to reach the other side before we settle down in the New World. We must be strong for what comes next.”

They moved in tandem, their tiny noise lost in the cacophony of the storm outside.

They were the ultimate survivalists, the parasites of the divine plan, thriving on the very thing meant to save the worthy.

The end didn’t come with a crash or a cry. It began with a trickle. Suddenly, the rhythmic vibration of the ship’s heart skipped a beat. A high-pitched groan vibrated through the floorboards, the groan of a body being hollowed out from within.

Silas had just broken through a final, stubborn layer of resin when the texture changed. It wasn’t wood anymore. It was cold. It was wet.

“Silas!” Elena cried out, as a jet of icy, dark water sprayed through their meticulously carved tunnel.

The pressure was immense. The unsinkable sanctuary, the great Ark that had carried the weight of a planet’s hope, began to shudder. The wood, weakened by months of silent, uninvited feasting, could no longer hold back the abyss.

Above them, the Great Ones began to panic. The two-by-two formation broke. The Captain’s voice rose in a frantic, confused shout, wondering how the gopher wood could fail. He had followed the dimensions to the cubit; he had sealed it with pitch; he had selected only the finest.

But he had forgotten the guests he didn’t invite. The world was being cleansed, indeed. But as the Ark settled into the rising deep, Silas knew one thing: no matter how big the ship, or how divine the plan, there would always be someone in the cracks, eating away at the foundation.

As the dark water rose to fill their tunnels, Silas grabbed Elena’s pincer. They weren’t afraid. They were the survivors of the margins. As the great vessel began to tilt, heavy with the weight of its own purity, the two small stowaways let the current take them.

The life of a woodworm was never easy, and it appeared that neither was the end as the water took them and all the Great Ones. In the end, everyone was equal, regardless of their size or status in the kingdom.

Those who notice these things will see that I have reduced this newsletter to every other week. It is part of my yearly plan to be more focused on deep work, my new crime book, and more present for my family.

I dropped this note last week:

One of the comments was, “FIVE newsletters? Oh, Sam, I shudder.” It explains perfectly how I have overstretched myself.

This is not the only newsletter I am moving to a fortnightly schedule; I am also dropping The Book Chronicles so that I can fully concentrate on Murder Mayhem UK. I have taken on too much.

But, as writers, are we not all guilty of this? We want to succeed so badly that we throw as many balls in the air as we can, only to drop them eventually. We end up doing five things poorly instead of concentrating on the one thing that got us into writing in the first place: the love of the craft.

We all set wild New Year goals, and by now, most of them are broken. This is why I prefer to have a “spring clean” of my work every year. As the flowers push through and the fairer weather arrives, it feels like the perfect time to declutter our lives.

I would suggest you all consider a spring clean of your own input and re-evaluate what truly matters. With that in mind, pop into the comments and tell me one thing you would like to change in your writing career.

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Round-Up

I was very lucky that the sequel to The Will of the Many arrived in my Libby this week; I am currently busy devouring it as I loved the first. I have to say the second is a slower starter, yet it remains hugely intriguing.

My audiobook listen is The Hallmarked Man by Robert Galbraith. Having read the entirety of this series, diving into this latest edition feels like coming back to spend time with old friends.

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The True Story of the Fake Hitman

Neighbours often saw Gary Johnson as a quiet, polite psychology professor who lived with two cats. However, those who met him in the shadows had no idea that to others he was also known as Mike Caine…

Read more

3 months ago · 7 likes · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

The Decline of the Mass Market Paperback

The era of the traditional mass market paperback (MMPB) is effectively coming to an end. While a few publishers still utilise the format for specific legacy genres, a series of industry shifts between 2024 and early 2026 has signalled its near-total phase-out…

Read more

3 months ago · Sam H Arnold

Murder Mayhem UK

The London Plague a Disease of Class

At the moment, where I live, we have an unprecedented number of meningitis cases. It is all anyone talks about. The anxiety hangs heavy in the air, making it easy to imagine what it must have been li…

Read more

3 months ago · 4 likes · Sam H Arnold

Recommended Article

Pick any of the articles from this newsletter and if you love Dracula you will not be disappointed.

You Want It Darker?

How Bram Stoker Wrote Dracula

Dear Reader…

Read more

4 months ago · 46 likes · 14 comments · Monica Van Fleet

I was struck this week by this quote from Epictetus:

Whenever you see anyone in authority, remember that he has no power over your choice... What, then, is the matter? All people are pushing and pulling in different directions. But if you would but realize that you have no concern with anything that lies outside the sphere of your choice, you would see how much peace you would have.”

This is what I have been trying to focus on in my writing recently. Produce the work, hit publish and forget about the statistics and subscribers. It is a hard world where we have to worry continuously about income and readers, I am fortunate as this is my side hustle. The subscribers buy my children extras, but without them, we still have a roof over our heads.

But, this should apply to all writers. Newsflash: There are easier ways to make money if you don’t like writing. We should all write for the love of the craft even if it does put bread on our table.

What do you think?

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Round-Up

I have been continuing this week with two series that I have become obsessed with both fiction-based.

I am on the third Red Rising book listening to it on audiobook. I can’t stop listening I move to the next one as soon as one is finished. Luckily they are all available on Libby so this is free listening, even better.

The other series is a physical book and that is the Blood and Bone series by John Gwynne I am on the last in the trilogy and it is bitter sweet, once I have finished this I have read everything by Gwynne and have to wait for his new release at the end of the year. It has been an amazing ride though.

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The Ambush That Ended in Tragedy

It was meant to be a lighthearted talk show segment about secret crushes when Jenny Jones revealed that Scott Amedure had a secret crush on a friend Jonathan Schmitz…

Read more

4 months ago · 7 likes · 2 comments · Sam H Arnold

Murder Mayhem UK

Did Elie Wiesel Steal a Survivor’s Identity?

Nikolaus (Miklós) Grüner survived Nazi death camps; he credits his friend Lázár Wiesel with helping him through this survival. We can only imagine the feelings he had when, in 1986, he was invited by a Swedish newspaper to meet with this old friend…

Read more

4 months ago · 4 likes · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

A Fellowship of Fantasy

When you think of childhood fantasy, two names you would likely ponder are J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Not only did these men change the landscape of fantasy writing, but they were also close friends…

Read more

4 months ago · 1 like · 2 comments · Sam H Arnold

Recommended Article

The article really shows what it is like to be a writer.

We Are All Creatives

The end of the 'career author'

Over the past few months, my author group chats have taken on a slightly funereal vibe. Friends are getting dropped by…

Read more

7 months ago · 2727 likes · 361 comments · Tasmina Perry

“May I be so bold as to offer you a libation, my good lady, to ward off the evening’s chill?”

“I must confess, I have already partaken of a few measures this evening, my lovely gentleman, but I am quite certain that one more shall do me no great harm. A drop of comfort never went amiss in such a dreary season as this.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine. Pray, tell me, what manner of spirit may I procure for you from the establishment?”

“A gin would be most agreeable, sir. It is the only thing that truly warms the blood when the fog rolls in from the river.”

“Barman! A measure of your finest mother’s ruin for the lady, if you please, and a tankard of bitter for myself.”

“And make that a double measure of the gin, sweetheart, for a lady cannot fly on but one wing, can she?”

“I suppose she cannot. I am known as William, by the way. It is a stout, honest name for an honest man.”

“And I am Mary. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. William. You have the air of a man of means about you; tell me, what is your trade in this busy corner of the world?”

“I am a man of commerce, Mary. I possess my own enterprise, humble though it may seem to some. I collect the sawdust from the local timber mills and furniture factories, which I then sell to these very public houses to dress their floors. I am even the master of my own horse and cart, though the poor beast is at his rest this day, and so I have ventured out upon my own two feet.”

“A man of property and a horse to boot! You are a catch, indeed. And tell me, is there perchance a Mrs. William who waits at home for such a handsome provider?”

“There is indeed an Ellen. Does the existence of a wife trouble your conscience, Mary?”

“Not if it troubles yours but little, sir. In this parish, we take our pleasures where we find them, and a wife in the distance is no shadow upon a drink in the present.”

“Well spoken. And what of yourself, Mary? What occupies your hours, aside from the enjoyment of a glass in pleasant company?”

“Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that, you understand. I do whatever is necessary to ensure there is bread upon my table and a drop of something potent in my belly. Life is a struggle, and I am a survivor, like many a woman in Whitechapel.”

“Do you reside in one of the common lodging houses, then? The tuppenny hang or the fourpenny bed?”

“Nay, I have managed better than that. I have a modest room of my own. There was a fellow, an old flame, you might say, who continues to see to the rent. He visits on occasion, though his appearances have grown rare of late. I manage to scrape by with little tasks, and sometimes the other ladies of the district stay over; they bring a bit of grub, some cast-off clothes, and, naturally, a bottle to share.”

“And does it not fill your heart with dread, being out upon the cobbles alone at such a dark hour? The broadsheets are full of nothing but terror these days.”

“Me? Afraid? Lord love you, no. I am far too young and vibrant to be of interest to our ‘friendly neighbourhood killer.’ He seems to prefer the older, more weathered sort. Besides, there is always a peeler on every corner lately, blowing their whistles and tramping about in their heavy boots.”

“I have heard it said in the shops that those women were naught but fallen creatures anyway. There are many who whisper that they perhaps deserved their fate for spreading their foul pestilences and filth among the populace.”

“And what, pray, is so grievous about a fallen woman? I knew some of those ‘unfortunates,’ as the papers call them. They were fond of the bottle, it is true, but they were souls just like any other. To my knowledge, they weren’t all ‘turning tricks’ as the gossips say; they were just trying to live.”

“You speak as though you were intimate with them. How many of these creatures did you truly know?”

“I have heard the tales of them all, and I shared a glass or two with a couple before they met their end. None of them deserved the butcher’s work that was visited upon them. But enough of such gloom! Are you going to be a gentleman and purchase another round for a thirsty girl?”

“Barman! Another gin for the lady, if you please.”

“A double, if you would be so kind. You never did answer me, William, what is your great grievance against women of a certain station?”

“Naught, I suppose. My own Ellen followed that path before we were wed. I’ve put a stop to it now, of course; I’ll not have my wife walking the streets. But tell me truly, Mary, are you one of those women yourself?”

“I seek coin where I may find it. There is no sin in selling what the Good Lord provided, is there? There is never a shortage of men eager to buy what is offered.”

“I suppose that is the way of the world. But do you not fear the Great Pox? Does the thought of the syphilis not give you pause?”

“Fairy tales and myths, sir! Not every soul carries the rot, and besides, who wishes to linger in this stinking hole of a city until they are grey and toothless anyway? I’d rather a short life and a merry one.”

“A philosophy I can appreciate. It is becoming quite crowded in here, and the air is thick with smoke. Shall we seek a more private venue?”

“We could try another public house further down the lane.”

“Nay, they will all be teeming with folk tonight. Most people are terrified to be out on the stones and are huddling together for warmth and safety.”

“Well, then... how would you like to see my room? If you are so inclined?”

“I must warn you, Mary, I have no intention of paying for the privilege.”

“I did not ask for your coin, William. But if you wish to be welcome, you might purchase a full bottle of that gin to bring along with us.”

“Barman! I require a bottle of your gin to take away. Thank you. Are you ready to depart, Mary?”

“This way, follow me into the dark. Lord, either this road is more uneven than usual, or I am most thoroughly pissed!”

“Here, take my arm, steady yourself.”

“A proper gentleman you are, William. Just down here, my lovely... Oh, blast it! I have lost my key in the depths of my pockets.”

“Do not distress yourself. I can remedy this. I shall simply shatter this pane of glass and reach through. Would that be acceptable?”

“It cannot be helped, I suppose. You have a practiced hand at that. Have you done such a thing before?”

“Once or twice, perhaps. In my line of work, one learns to be resourceful.”

“Come in, then. Make yourself at home in my little sanctuary.”

“Do you possess any glassware for this gin, or shall we drink like heathens?”

“Just keep pouring, my lovely man, and never mind the formalities.”

“Are you intent on keeping those sodden clothes on? They look quite heavy with the damp.”

“You are a direct one, aren’t you? I... wait... what is that you have drawn from your coat? What have you got that blade for, William?”

“You are a wretched, painted whore, and you are about to receive everything you deserve. You and your kind, spreading your filth and your rot through the veins of this city. I am the cure for the plague you carry.”

“Oh, God... it’s you. You’re him.”

“Yes. You foolish, drunken cow. I grew weary of the damp alleys and the constant whistling of the peelers. I have been disturbed too many times of late. But with you, behind a locked door, I can take my time. I shall create a true masterpiece this night, something for that idiot Abberline to ponder in his nightmares.”

“No! Please! I beg of you!”

Stage One

First, you must make your significant other feel comfortable in their surroundings. Ensure you show them respect, make them their favourite meals, listen to their stories and respond appropriately to them.

Repeat this step for at least a month you will see the results start to grow.

To assist in this stage it might be advantageous to keep a log of their routines, likes and dislikes etc.

During this initial stage ensure that you are planning for the next stage by shopping for the equipment that you will need:

• Black bags

• A leg of lamb as large as you can afford should be placed in the freezer immediately to maintain freshness.

• High Powered Electric carving knife. Note: ensure it is sharpened, test the battery etc to ensure it will work when you need it.

• Mint or Rosemary to cook the lamb with depending on personal taste.

• Appropriate vegetables to taste

• Potatoes for roasting or Aunt Bessie’s if you are feeling lazy.

• Yorkshire puddings, no matter what you’re told these go with every roast.

• Various washing products for the clean up

Invite your family and friends to Sunday lunch a date more than a month after you start this process, but not less than six months.

It may be necessary if people can not attend to invite others to ensure the party is large enough to enjoy the meal you are going to prepare.

Ask your significant other to invite some of their friends to enhance the party. People that you are happy to share a meal with and preferably not too clever. No one needs a know-it-all at the dinner table.

Ensure that whilst preparing for stage two you have continued with the initial step in stage one to a satisfactory level. It is easy to dip the affection level but this should be avoided to ensure the success of the operation.

Stage Two

This stage should be completed one day before the meal.

Invite your significant other into the kitchen and make them their favourite beverage so they are sat relaxed preferably in an area without carpet on the floor.

Take the frozen leg of lamb out of the freezer and hit your significant other repeatedly over the back of the head with it until they are no longer breathing. Aim for the base of the skull to ensure a swift transition.

Once the heart has ceased to beat, place the frozen leg of lamb onto the counter on a plate to avoid defrosting juices from contaminating the workspace prematurely.

Place your significant other into your bath and remove any limbs that do not fit into the bag with your electric carving knife. Please be mindful that this stage can be quite messy so it may be advised to wear an apron or other clothing covering.

When the organic matter is small enough to fit into black bags place them in there, sealing using the double knot technique.

Take them to the local tip for dumping, include other household rubbish in this trip, and ensure nothing has your address on it.

Alternatively, you may prefer to dispose of them at the local lake but you will require something heavy to tie to the bags to ensure they sink. This is optional depending on the individual’s local geography.

Return home and thoroughly clean yourself, work environment and equipment. Pay particular attention to the grout between tiles and the serrated edges of the electric knife.

Stage Three

This stage is to be completed on the day of the family meal.

Text all participants of the meal informing them your significant other has been called away suddenly (e.g., a family emergency or sudden business trip), but emphasise that the meal is still planned and you would love to see everyone.

Cook the now defrosted leg of lamb along with the vegetables and potatoes, and add seasoning to taste.

Lay the table with your finest linens, cutlery and glassware.

Welcome guests and seat them around the table, present the leg of lamb to the table on a separate plate, and the vegetables. The roasting meat will fill the home with a “normalising” scent that masks any lingering chemical cleaners.

Ask the person you least like at the table to carve the leg of lamb, hand them the electric carving knife and allow them to complete this stage without interruption.

Serve the lamb, vegetables and gravy to the guests and watch them enjoy consuming your murder weapon.

Make polite conversation at the table until it is time for the guests to leave, if needed send them home with leftovers.

Clean dinner away, wash up and enjoy a stress-free life without a significant other.

Note: It may be advantageous after a couple of days to report the significant other missing to the authorities. This creates a formal record of your “concern,” though it is up to the individual and not strictly essential if the “sudden trip” narrative is strong enough.

Troubleshooting

Q1: What should I do if Stage One is interrupted by a third party?

Protocol: If a friend or family member expresses concern regarding your sudden change in behaviour towards the significant other, dismiss it as a renewed commitment to the relationship. Tactfully try to limit contact with this person. If suspicion persists, extend Stage One by an additional thirty days to normalise this behaviour, nosy people become bored very quickly and move on to someone else.

Q2: The “Primary Instrument” (Frozen Lamb) has begun to soften before the transition. Is it still viable?

Protocol: No. The structural integrity of the instrument is paramount. If the meat has reached a temperature where the surface is yielding, its kinetic impact will be dampened, potentially failing to achieve a “swift transition.” Return the instrument to the freezer for a minimum of 12 hours or replace it with a fresh, deeper-frozen unit. Consistency in density is non-negotiable for operator safety.

Q3: A guest at the Sunday Lunch asks specific questions about the Significant Other’s “sudden trip.”

Protocol: Employ the “Emotional Deflection Technique.” Instead of providing hard data (flight numbers, hotel names), respond with an emotional state. Statements such as, “It was all so rushed, I’m still a bit overwhelmed trying to keep the house running,” usually discourages further inquiry. Most guests will feel awkward pressing for details if you appear mildly stressed by the “absence.”

Q4: There is a residual scent of “Chemical Sanitation Suite” products in the kitchen despite ventilation.

Protocol: Increase the volume of “Culinary Aromatics.” If mint and rosemary are insufficient, introduce a secondary heat source, such as a stove top pot of cinnamon and cloves or brew coffee. Ensure the Yorkshire puddings are slightly over-browned to provide a familiar “toasted” aroma.

Q5: What if the person I least like at the table refuses to carve the meat?

Protocol: Do not insist, as this creates a memorable point of friction. Instead, pass the electric carving knife to the guest with the most social influence. The goal is “Shared Participation.” As long as someone other than you handles the primary instrument in front of witnesses, the objective of the “Final Distribution” is achieved.

Q6: How should I handle “Digital Footprints” during the missing person reporting phase?

Protocol: Ensure your search history aligns with your narrative. In the 48 hours following the “Transition,” perform searches related to “how to cope with a partner travelling” or “quick recipes for one.” Do not search for legal advice or “how to clean grout” at any point. All digital activity must align with the persona of a waiting, slightly confused partner.

Scroll through the Notes feed and you are hit by two types of posts: the salesman telling you how to gain thousands of followers in a week, and those moaning about it.

Here are the tips for growing a following: either import them from another site or scam the system. They have private groups where links to articles are shared and everyone follows each other.

It is a “follow-for-follow” system, and it doesn’t work for two reasons. First, the moment you stop belonging to the community, your engagement drops. Second, no one is genuinely interested in what you write; they only “like” your work so that you like theirs.

Are these really the followers you want?

The way to grow a following is to find your tribe. Find people who write on topics you enjoy and interact with them. The worst that will happen is that you grow slowly, but you get to read some interesting writing along the way.

The other silent advantage of this approach is that your Notes feed slowly turns into a place where you actually want to be.

It becomes filled with interesting notes from people who share your interests. It takes time, but you can change Notes into a source of enrichment.

If you want to speed this process up, then mute the voices you don’t want to hear. I say mute because if you block, your work is not visible to them; if you mute, you don’t see their contributions, but they see yours.

Why do I care?

I have seen so many platforms destroyed by marketers, leaving you unable to find anything interesting to read because it is all about how to make millions in a week. Medium went that way. I am eager to keep this tiny corner of the internet away from that and keep reading the quality writing I have come to love on Substack.

You can train the algorithm.

Give it a try for a week and let me know how you get on.

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Round-Up

I continue on my John Gwynne journey this week reading the second in the Blood and Bone trilogy. Anyone who read my ‘Fantasy Novels for All Types of Readers’ article will know I am a massive fan.

On audiobook I thought I would follow the hype and start listening to the Pierce Brown Red Rising series. I am 50% through the first book and I can tell you the hype is well earned.

I am drawn this month to a re-read of Wuthering Heights mainly because I am so angry at the new film. Once again Hollywood have produced a slightly related love story that does not deserve the name Wuthering Heights. Do these directors even read the books?

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The Radical Life and Stoic Death of W.T. Stead

W.T. Stead was the first person to understand that the media could be used as a weapon, a concept that now dominates all aspects of our lives. He frequently used the platform he had built to attack p…

Read more

4 months ago · 14 likes · Sam H Arnold

Murder Mayhem UK

The Hidden Legacy of Operation Paperclip

Philippe Sands’ The Ratlines profoundly influenced my research. His narrative centres on Otto von Wächter, a high-ranking SS Governor who fled to South America to escape prosecution…

Read more

4 months ago · 4 likes · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

Detailed Analysis of The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson

It is worth starting this in-depth review by saying that I did not really like this book; it was only a two-star read for me. My main problem was that none of the characters was engaging. They were all quite unlikeable, but the more I think about it, the more I suspect this might have been the point…

Read more

4 months ago · 2 likes · 2 comments · Sam H Arnold

Guest Article

This is one of my favourite newsletters and I loved this article talking about the amazing Brontë family.

Noted

The Brontës' Scribble Mania

You’d be forgiven for thinking Wuthering Heights is a great love story if you only experienced it as a film…

Read more

5 months ago · 232 likes · 47 comments · Jillian Hess

Feminine and Forgotten is a journey through the untold stories of women who shaped history, and were too often erased from it. From rulers and revolutionaries to scientists, artists, and survivors, this book brings together the lives of women whose courage, ambition, and complexity defied the expectations of their time.

Told through a lens of empathy and curiosity, each chapter reclaims a voice once silenced, revealing that the line between hero and villain is rarely clear. These women were praised, punished, misunderstood, and, in many cases, deliberately forgotten, yet their influence endures.

Blending history with personal reflection, Feminine and Forgotten challenges readers to look beyond the familiar narratives and reconsider how we define greatness. It is a reminder that the legacy of humanity is not written by perfection, but by those who dared to live fully, however history chose to remember them.

At its heart, this book is both a tribute and a reckoning, an invitation to see the past anew and to honour the women who refused to be ordinary.

Buy Now

Sometimes, the brave thing is to let something go. This is exactly what I decided to do this week when I made the decision to close our other crime newsletter, Crimebeat.

Crimebeat originally started on Medium and enjoyed a great deal of success; however, it never quite reached those same achievements on Substack. But that is not the primary reason I have closed it.

When you are a working writer with a family, every minute is precious; you are constantly creating while juggling time with the children. For that reason, I need to concentrate on what brings me joy. For me, that is Murder Mayhem UK. It is gaining excellent traction and, at the time of writing, was ranked 35th in the history category. Concentrating on this, makes sense.

Sometimes, you have to be brave enough to let one thing go to focus on what is truly working. We can all have passion projects, but when time is short, you have to prioritise.

Is there something you could give up to concentrate on another project?

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Is living just one long goodbye to the people we love - Recursion by Blake Crouch

Reading Round-Up

This week, I finished listening to Recursion by Blake Crouch, and what a ride that was! It certainly won’t be the last Blake Crouch book I read.

I have also finished my book club read, The Haunting of Hill House. I will share my full thoughts on that at the end of the month on The Book Chronicles, but let’s just say it was only a two-star read for me.

Next, I started reading The Birds by Tarjei Vesaas. It is the tale of an autistic man who lives with his sister; it is a deeply heartbreaking story, and one I relate to well, having two children on the spectrum.

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The Enigma of the Second Mrs Crippen

Kunigunde Mackamotzki was a woman of many names, but history remembers her by a name she never truly owned: Cora Crippen. The daughter of a Russian-Polish father and a German mother, she would eventu…

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5 months ago · 7 likes · 2 comments · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

The Power of the Reader in Literature

Readers have power; whether you are a writer or a reader, you will understand this concept. As readers, we possess the influence to make a book a bestseller or to condemn it to the back pages of Amazon…

Read more

5 months ago · 2 likes · Sam H Arnold

Guest Article

Few books live up to the hype, and I tend to steer clear of anything TikTok tells me I have to read; however, The Will of the Many by James Islington is the exception to that rule. I found myself carrying the book around the house, reading every spare second I had.

As well as being a brilliant read, it is deeply thought-provoking, especially in today’s climate. It poses a difficult question: Is the everyday man as complacent in tyranny if he does nothing about it? I have to say, I think he is.

Many of the cases I have enjoyed covering for Murder Mayhem UK have featured people who stood against the norm. These were individuals who were not happy to sit back and let things happen, but instead risked their lives to make a difference. People like Paul Grüninger, who helped Jews escape persecution during World War II, and the subject of my Wednesday article, Amy Loughren, who stopped a serial killer.

We can all hope to stand up and behave like these people. Yet, watching the news suggests this is not always the case. These are exceptional people, those who go far beyond the norm.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. — Dr Martin Luther King Jr

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Round-Up

I have mentioned above that I finished The Will of the Many this week which was simply amazing and I think may well be a contender for my top book of 2026. I have also started listening to Recursion by Blake Crouch I am only 7% in so can’t say too much but have been told by a friend it will lead to a Crouch rabbit hole. This week I have also started revisiting some of my Jack the Ripper books to amass the research needed for my new project.

Articles

The Book Chronicle

Focus, Fantasy, and Fog

Every year, I set a focus. This year’s goal is to focus more: to spend less time on social media and more time doing deep focus work. I believe this has had a significant effect on the number of books I read this month, especially considering that two of them were quite long…

Read more

5 months ago · Sam H Arnold

Murder Mayhem UK

The Women Who Stopped Charles Cullen

Charles Cullen was one of the most prolific serial killers in history, but this article is not just about him; this article is also about the courageous women who brought him to justice…

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5 months ago · 5 likes · 2 comments · Sam H Arnold

Murder Mayhem UK

A History of Loch Ness Hoaxes

The mystery surrounding the Scottish Highlands has been fuelled by a mix of genuine curiosity and calculated deception. For generations, the legend has inspired ‘Nessie Hunters’ from the 1930s to the present day…

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5 months ago · 4 likes · Sam H Arnold

Guest Article

AI Fiction Lab

What the Hell is Ad Fatigue?

You have a potential reach of one million readers. You set your budget, hit “publish,” and wait for the floodgates to open…

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5 months ago · 15 likes · 3 comments · Marcin Pilarczyk

It struck me this week just how many of us are trying to carve out a small place in the writing community whilst working full-time and raising a family. In my opinion, you are the unsung heroes of Substack. You write in whatever spare moments you can find, yet you still produce content that rivals that of any full-time writer.

This is my life. I write in the odd five minutes I have, sometimes in a notebook and sometimes on my phone. We make it work because we are passionate about what we offer our readers.

We have read all the market strategies and we have followed their advice, but for us, growth is slow and steady; that is all we can afford at the moment. Many of us dream of the day we can ditch the full-time hustle and be a writer. However, there are bills to pay and mouths to feed, so we make do.

How Can I Help

These meanderings led me to ask the question: how can I help? Even in a small way, how can I help you succeed? The answer is that I can help advertise your articles.

I am opening my chat on this newsletter for people to share links to their work, regardless of topic or genre. Once a week, I will pick my favourite and feature it in this newsletter. The bonus? It does not have to be hosted on this site. This week, you will see the article comes from my dear friend Marla and is hosted on Medium.

What have you got to lose? It takes just one minute to paste a link. Come back when you have time and read some of the work of others, as support can be as simple as a share or a like.

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Nobody, but nobody / Can make it out here alone. - Maya Angelou

Reading Round-Up

This week has been a great reading week; I finished Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb, which was every bit as good as the Farseer Trilogy. Actually, if you pushed me, I might even say it is better. The characters were certainly more diverse and entertaining in places. However, I would say if you want to dive into the Realm of the Elderlings series, you should read them in order. I am now going on to read the very popular, The Will of the Many, which I read a sample of many months ago and it hooked me then.

I also finished my audiobook, Brigades and Breadknives. I did enjoy it, but as I mentioned last week, I missed spending time with Viv. Whether I will listen to the next in the series, I am not sure; it is a decision for if and when another is announced. My next listen, I think, is going to be a Blake Crouch’s novel, Recursion. He is a new author for me, so I am looking forward to seeing how he writes.

I am still making my way through Day of Infamy, which is a hard read, but gradually I will get there.

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

Unraveling the Legend of Nessie

There are many stories of unknown monsters: Bigfoot, the Yeti, and the Almas. But, the one that has always fascinated me is the one I live closest to, the Loch Ness Monster, affectionately known as N…

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5 months ago · 5 likes · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

Analysis Of Mice & Men - John Steinbeck

This was a re-read for me, having read Of Mice and Men at school several years ago. It is a book I have been excited to revisit ever since I started my Steinbeck journey…

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5 months ago · 2 likes · Sam H Arnold

Guest Article

The lovely Marla talks about whether smacking should be illegal in the U.K and the considerations that need to be taken into account.

Read Now

Next Thursday marks the anniversary of starting Murder Mayhem UK; five years is an achievement worth celebrating. As a thank you to all those who have subscribed, I am releasing my new crime book, Feminine and Forgotten, which focuses on women in history who have been largely forgotten. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can buy a copy from everywhere you get your ebooks.

My next project is a new Jack the Ripper book that crosses the divide between fact and fiction. I will share more on this at a later date. At present, I am embarking on the research stage of the book—which, I have to say, is always my favourite part of the process.

Tell me in the comments what you have been working on the last couple of weeks.

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Round-Up

I am still reading two of the books I spoke about last time. Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb comes in at a massive 900 pages, and I am halfway through. I love Robin Hobb; her character development is some of the best I have ever read.

My non-fiction read is Day of Infamy by Walter Lord, his telling of Pearl Harbour. I am loving this so far; it is a really rounded look from both sides of the incident.

On audiobook, I am listening to Brigades and Breadknives, which is the third in the Legends & Lattes series. I have to admit to being a little disappointed in this. I love the original Legends & Lattes, but every book since has been about other places with other characters. I yearn to go back and spend time in the coffee shop.

The moment you accept responsibility for everything in your life is the moment you gain power to change anything in your life. - Stoic Wisdom

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The Moral Architect of Abolition, Thomas Clarkson

The strength it takes to go against the populace is immense, but throughout history, there have been individuals who pushed their heads above the rest to announce, ‘this is wrong.’ Many of those name…

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6 months ago · 4 likes · 3 comments · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

5 Most Terrifying Book Villains and Monsters Across Genres

Monsters come in many forms in novels, and it is the villains that can either make or break a story. Some are violent, some are not of this world, and some are ordinary people who scare us because of their chilling realism…

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5 months ago · 3 likes · 1 comment · Sam H Arnold

One of the people I listen to is Cal Newport. Being a teacher and writer, he relates to my journey better than many. He talks extensively about living the “deep life,” and that is something that has interested me for many years.

Primarily, it is the reason that I have stopped counting my reading; I want to read more deeply. It is also why I am concentrating on my newsletters rather than stretching myself thin over too many projects.

Reading is a passion of mine. It is the reason I started my book club, The Book Chronicles, to encourage more people on their reading journey. Which is why I have added a section to this email, which will be a weekly round-up of my reading.

I read three books at a time across different formats and genres.

I always have an audiobook that I listen to whilst driving between my tutoring sessions. These are easy-to-follow books and are all fiction. I would not listen to a more in-depth book, as I do not have a note-taking function with audiobooks.

Additionally, I read one fiction and one non-fiction book at a time. Usually, one is “chunkier” than the other, which allows me to carry the thinner volume in my bag.

Always having a book with me helps me read the quantity I do every year. I hope you enjoy this addition to the newsletter.

Tell me in the comments: how many books do you read at any one time?

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Reading Round-Up

This week, I stepped away from The Little Friend by Donna Tartt. I will go into more detail in my monthly round-up on The Book Chronicles, but let me say it wasn’t for me.

Having put that down, I embarked on the monster of a book Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb. This is the first in the Liveship Traders trilogy and part of the Realm of the Elderlings series I am making my way through.

My non-fiction read is Day of Infamy by Walter Lord. His book on the Titanic is one of my favourites on the subject, so I am looking forward to starting this one on Pearl Harbour.

I finished listening to Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, so I need to pick a new audiobook. At the moment, I have been catching up on some of my favourite podcasts.

The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go. – Dr. Seuss

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The Life and Legacy of Harvey Milk

Harvey Milk was a trailblazing politician who became one of the first openly gay public officials in the United States and the first in California. During his rise, he showed society that gay people …

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6 months ago · 7 likes · 2 comments · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

How To Enjoy a Consistent Reading Habit

It is that time of year when social media feeds are flooded with reading tallies and ambitious “reading challenges…

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6 months ago · 1 like · Sam H Arnold

Happy New Year to you all.

I don’t make resolutions, mainly because I never stick to them; I do, however, always have goals for my newsletters and plans for where I want to take my writing and creative life.

The first major goal I have is to read more for enjoyment. I have not even set myself a reading goal this year; I want to enjoy my reading rather than chasing numbers.

My book club is also my new passion project. The thought of reading excellent books with others is exciting to me. Look out for this over on The Book Chronicles.

In addition to this, on The Book Chronicles, I will be including monthly reading round-ups, book-related articles, and in-depth analysis on all the books we pick for the club.

Look out for my article next week which will blow the lid off how you can read 100s of books a year. I will show you how I achieved a respectable 152 books last year—and it isn’t as impressive as you think.

My other newsletter, Murder Mayhem UK, will continue in much the same way as it did last year. However, I am changing my offer to paid subscribers; rather than free books, I am offering an additional article once a week. These articles will build on the content from the previous Wednesday.

As a paid subscriber, you can also access all my books and any future editions I publish. At present, I have one more planned for 2026 in addition to the extra article. 

What are your plans for your writing in 2026? Tell me in the comments.

Until next Sunday: Find the time, find the words, find the way.

Sam 😊

Articles

The Book Chronicle

Two Years of Stories and My Top 5 of 2025

Happy New Year, all…

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6 months ago · 1 like · Sam H Arnold

I stumbled on an article last week about how to summarise your notes using AI. You can find it here.

After working through my digital garden and asking the suggested questions, I found the results were strikingly accurate.

Here is what the analysis stated:

• The Tipping Point: You are preoccupied with the moment when immense, powerful human systems—empires, war machines, justice, and social contracts, fail due to a hidden flaw or deliberate corruption. If you have read any of my crime articles, I am sure you can see this is accurate.

• The Knowledge Gap: My focus tends to concentrate on historical systems rather than modern ones, such as global capitalism. This is a gap I am eager to rectify next year.

• Systemic Cruelty: You have a morbid, detailed fascination with moments where human cruelty is institutionalised, systemic, or forensic. As a true crime writer, I found this also to be very accurate.

I would be interested to know what your notes say about you and what you are interested in studying next year.

I would also like to take this opportunity to thank you all for your support this year and to wish you a Happy Christmas and New Year. See you in 2026.

Sam 😊

Articles

Murder Mayhem UK

The Everest Graveyard

The urge to explore places that push your body to the limit, has always fascinated me. This started when I was in my 20s, when I met the son of Ernest Shackleton and learned about his amazing adventu…

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6 months ago · 7 likes · 8 comments · Sam H Arnold

The Book Chronicle

5 Books Recommended by My Daughter

This idea was inspired by a reply I made to a Booktuber. It is a fun way to come up with one-liners to describe children’s books by putting them into an adult context…

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6 months ago · Sam H Arnold