Doctor to Dragons has its first review on amazon, and from a fellow veterinarian, no less (though sadly one of non-magical creatures):
“I loved the idea of a fantasy book from the perspective of a veterinarian. As a veterinarian, Mr. Huggins did an amazing job of expressing a veterinarian well. The stresses and joys. The quick thinking and the problem solving. I had never thought about what it would be like to do surgery on a dragon, but since reading this book, I have dreamed about it and it is amazing! I regularly think about what I need to do to protect myself and staff from potentially aggressive patients, but am now very happy that I don’t treat basilisks! Thank you for an amazing entertaining story!!”
There you have it, what better seal of authenticity could you ask for? Don’t delay and dive into the exciting world of dragon surgery, with occasional forays into the wonders of basilisk balms, chimera cures, troll treatments and orc ointments.
As you descend to the waiting room with your beloved but beleaguered beast, feel free to soothe its nerves by singing along with the Dark Lord’s favourite elevator music. You know you want to:
My apologies for the delay, the summer heat has caused an eye irritation that means I cannot look at text on a screen for long without a lot of discomfort, so we’ll see how soon before I can write anything else.
In the meantime, this is what got me started as a poet, and made me realise I might have some talent for poetry, much to my surprise. The situation that brought this experiment about is not a happy one.
For the first year of my marriage, we lived in a rented flat, and our landlord was a young man in his late twenties, living with his girlfriend on the floor above us. He was killed in a car crash about halfway through our tenancy, and we of course attended his funeral. It was the most depressing event I have ever attended, utter despair written into the faces of everyone in his family at such a promising life cut so tragically short, and one of the songs played over his open grave was ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon/Yoko Ono.
I was probably the only native English speaker at the funeral, so I’d like to think that whoever chose that song didn’t understand it, only knowing that he had liked it. I remember thinking at the time that it was a terrible song for a funeral, since its message is one of forsaking all hope for the next life in exchange for some presumed happiness in this one.
It is a beautiful haunting melody, so I set about writing some alternative lyrics that would be close to the original wording while transforming its message into one of genuine hope. Here is the result: Continue reading
This is one of the first songs I ever wrote, with a very simple haunting guitar accompaniment (stretching my very poor guitar skills to the limit). I was sure I had it written down somewhere but couldn’t find it, so have reconstructed it from what I remember. It is about Good Friday, which is today. If I can get them finished in time, I hope to have a poem about Easter Saturday up tomorrow, and one about Easter Sunday the day after, we’ll see how that goes. Continue reading
Could chance alone have led me here to witness this magnificence
Or else the instigation of some great eternal plan?
I’ll respond with all the fullness of my youth’s profound exuberance
To answer nature’s call and thus attempt to be a man!
What fortitude arises when your path is strewn with obstacles,
As if they were all placed there by a teacher from on high;
It will not do to merely gaze at them with tinted spectacles,
For duty bids us not just rise but reach up to the sky! Continue reading
I thought up this song when I first wrote the prologue scene between Marcus and Sylvia, minus the spoken introduction, with the music beginning when Marcus slowly opens the door. It sounds amazing in my head, but I don’t have the musical talent to make it a reality, maybe one day. Continue reading
It’s going to be my wife’s birthday soon, and I haven’t thought up a poem for that yet, so here’s a song I wrote and sung for her one year. She couldn’t stop smiling all the way through, for some reason…
Would it help… ?
Would it help if I told you that I loved you?
Would you take me at my word If I said you’re my precious one?
Could I claim to be your friend, to be faithful to the end?
Maybe, but actions speak louder than words,
You know, actions speak louder than words. Continue reading
Once strong hands now tremble as they grip the spoon,
Once sure feet are now afraid to fall.
A once sharp mind now struggles to place a face,
Once sharp eyes are now blurred by misty flaws.
A once proud man now lets himself be helped from bed,
A once proud band is now reduced to one.
The once life of the party now sits and ponders what went wrong,
Where have all the years and all the heroes gone? Continue reading