New release: The Echoing Green and Other Stories by David Jordan, My Review, and Meet the Author

For those of you who like contemporary fantasy, but an “old” voice, one of those stories where the narration is not just the man that carries the sort forward but a character itself, well, I think you’ll like this one.

The Echoing Green and Other Stories by David Jordan released a couple of weeks back in the Fantasy genre.

From a quest to find the Starbucks mermaid, to a god’s dream of saving the planet, this collection of short stories has an abundance of imagination as well as ingenuity and style. In serene and sparkling prose, David Jordan will introduce you to places and people that you have never encountered before, with a unique voice and vision that will satisfy story lovers everywhere.

Like an old tale, this collection of stories can’t be rushed. The Author takes his time weaving word after word, seemingly unimportant detail after another until you find yourself caught up in a web of imagines and feeling that he conjured. 

There are all short stories, which makes this collection perfect for bearing that long commute, or waiting out that winter storm. Either way, you’ll be taken into these strange bites of worlds and realities, and you’ll be happy to. 

It’s a great debut from this author, and I hope he doesn’t let us wait a long time for his next effort.

Dreamer’s Eve

5:30, the clock said. Things were winding down in the warehouse.

He finished the last pallet, put the docket on the shelf with the others and went into the small kitchen area to change out of his boiler suit into his casual clothes. On his way out, he popped his head into the office to say goodbye.

Outside, one of the vans was pulling up. He saluted the driver.

‘Any plans for the weekend?’ the driver shouted.
‘No. Just reading!’ he yelled back.
‘One of these days! One of these days we are going out on the town and we are going to get you a woman!’
He laughed, nodded his head and waved.

As he always did, he passed through a small, forested areaon his way home. And, as he sometimes did, he sat down on the bank of a little river that hurried through the trees as if impatient to be out of the gloom.

He took a pack of cigarettes from his trench coat and pulled one out. He tapped it on the box a few times before lighting it and taking a deep drag out of it.

He sat there, brooding. He thought about his life. About how unsatisfactory it was. He thought about his ex-wife, how she had almost destroyed him. He thought about his poor attempts at writing. He thought about his dead father. And, inevitably, he thought about the bottle. That bottle that held bliss. Waiting for him. Calling to him. Crying out to him to come home.


He knew that the time was fast approaching when he would have to give it up. He wanted to stay alive. He was still a young man. He wanted to stick around and see what happened to his life. But it wouldn’t be this weekend. No, this weekend he would answer the call. Or, at least, that is what he was planning.

The powers above had other plans, however.

He pulled out another cigarette and tapped it on the box, and then suddenly it started to rain. It rained heavily and straight down, as if someone had turned on a tap. He cursed, put the cigarette in his shirt pocket and got up, looking around for the best tree to shelter under. There was a giant oak on the other side of the river. It was split and hollowed inside the trunk. The foliage on the branches looked copious enough to provide cover. He had never noticed the tree before, but he didn’t take note of such things, generally. He came here for a bit of peace and quiet. Not to study trees.

He jumped the stream easily enough and, in a few seconds, he was standing under the strong and generous arms of the oak. It was completely dry. The ground was soft and inviting. Dead leaves and mossy undergrowth made a quilt that he just couldn’t resist resting upon. He took out the cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply, leaning his head back on the tree trunk. And, in this way, he enjoyed the rain.

The insistent patter made him calm. It was as if nature was talking to him. Telling him a tale that was completely rational and reassuring. A mother’s tale for a rainy day. And, for a couple of minutes, all was right with the world. 

The author

I’m writing out of Cork, Ireland, where I was born and bred. As well as writing fiction and poetry I play the bass guitar. Steve Harris from Iron Maiden is my bass god. My favourite author is either WB Yeats or James Joyce – I can’t decide which, but I also love popular fiction, especially dark fantasy: Clive Barker, Neil Gaiman, Stephen King and Alan Moore are all huge influences on my writing.

I love to quote. My current favourite quote is by the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: ‘You need to have some chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.’

I love dogs, the great outdoors and coffee. My favourite film is A River Runs Through It. My favourite song is Little Wing by Jimi Hendrix.

About The Echoing Green and Other Stories

by David Jordan

So, the time has come to announce the imminent release of my new short story collection, The Echoing Green and Other Stories.

What can I say about it?

Well, the stories are stronger than my previous efforts. They are more focused and thematic and have the confidence of a writer who has found his voice. Although mythological beings are still present in the stories, there are more creatures of pure imagination. The plots are as ingenious and inventive as The Chronicles but, again, there is more focus and less rambling. Because they are more thematic, the stories are, I hope, more thought provoking. There is also more of a social conscience present, especially in the stories, ‘John Frost and the Angel’ and ‘Home’. This is something that was missing from The Chronicles.

The Echoing Green and Other Stories was written in a very short period of time. I always write fast as the stories seem to flow through me. The process was the same as for the other books: I’d cook up a few ideas in my imagination before sitting down at the computer and getting to work. I never have trouble coming up with ideas. It seems like I can turn them on and off like a tap. It’s a very deliberate process: there is thinking time and there is writing time. I’ve never had writer’s block.

So, altogether a more mature, confident and controlled effort that will, hopefully, satisfy most readers.

I should also mention the cover art. This time, instead of the easy option of finding a design on Shutterstock, I’ve gone with an original work of art by the very talented Diana Muller. ‘A Head Full of Hills’ is most fitting for both the title and content of the book. The cover is classier than the previous books, and I hope the content lives up to it.

In what way is the collection similar to the previous books?

Well, the influences are the same: the early work of Yeats, Neil Gaiman, Clive Barker and Stephen King. And the strangeness and originality of the ideas is still there. As in previous books, the dialogue is probably the strongest aspect of the work. There is the same playfulness and humour about the stories.

So, altogether, I’m very pleased and proud of the way the stories in the collection turned out.

I hope you enjoy reading them.

You can find David:

Amazon Author’s Page


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