Daniel Lyddon
Bio
Writer-producer, and co-founder of UK production company Seraphim Pictures. Welshman scratching the Hollywood itch since 2005. Interests include film, travel and fitness, so will be writing about them, plus occasionally bipolar disorder...
Stories (18/0)
My 2021 Writing Goals
Covid, lockdowns, and pandemic aside, 2020 turned out to be a good year for me. When not worrying about things I couldn't change in the wider world at large, I spent a great amount of time writing. At the start of last year I set myself the goal (NOT a resolution!) to write short film screenplay every month, and then towards the end of this year, spurred on by the prompting of a Vocal+ competition, I aimed to write and self-publish a short story compilation.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Journal
The Ward
It was a sad day for all involved. The Willard family crypt welcomed another two family members into its cold marble embrace - victims of an apparent murder-suicide that had left little Jenna Willard orphaned, and unable to speak about what she had witnessed. People paid their respects, told her they were sorry, and left. Someone had suggested that, given the circumstances, a wake would be inappropriate.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Horror
The Poet's Chair
Henry inherited the house on Derwen Avenue from his mother, or rather, his mother had been unable to sell it to pay for her care so it had lay undisturbed for years, whilst his mother had whiled away her twilight years in the best care home that Henry could afford. It wasn't a bad house, no bad things had happened there, but there was something about the place, some feeling, that had prevented it from being sold.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Horror
Gimmick
Robbie was down on his luck. As he sat on the front porch surrounded by streamers and balloons, he reflected on his choices that had brought him to this very spot. He had always loved magic and performance as a child, and had been a member of his local magic circle as a teenager. He had dreamed of one day being a great magician with a stage show of his own in Vegas, but he had sadly never progressed past the children's party stage. He was getting on a bit now, and his act was getting old. He had performed at the birthday parties of most of the neighbourhood kids for almost a decade, and they were tired of the same, stale material. What he needed was a shot in the arm, a new routine - something special, something magic. What Robbie needed was a gimmick.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Horror
Gracefall
As usual, Sister Maria Grazia sensed the evil long before she could see it. As the black sedan car rolled through the Tuscan hills, she could feel the pressure weighing down on her head. She closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and counted three slow breaths. Ordinarily she would have prayed, but she needed to save her prayers for when she got there.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Horror
The Gloaming
The coach entered the forest road just as the sun began to slink under the horizon and day gave way to night, pulled by four black horses with wild wide eyes, and white foam at their mouths. Their top halves sweaty and their bottom halves flecked with mud, they looked like they had seen better days, yet they pressed on as if the Devil himself were chasing them. Those with full possession of the facts who would have said that this was indeed the case. Urged on by the cries of the driver, and the crack of his whip, the horses pulled the coach into the gloaming made all the more dark by the trees reaching up on either side of the road.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Horror
The House on Juniper Lane
The House on Juniper Lane stood apart from the others, alone on the edge of town. Trapped somewhere between civilisation and the wilderness, the old and unloved house had been home to a Miss Montfort at one point, but no-one had seen or heard from the old lady in years. It loomed over the single-track lane that ran between high hedges and over-grown trees on its way up to the moors. People went to the moors to disappear, and it was said that some of them really did - following the false-lights and corpse-candles until they were welcomed into the cold, earthen embrace of the moors.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Horror
The Parc Slip Explosion
On the morning of August 26th, 1892, 22-year-old coal haulier William Lyddon left his home at Fountain Cottages in Aberkenfig, South Wales, and made the short walk to work his shift underground at Parc Slip Colliery. It was the day of the annual St Mary Hill Fair, and apparently a fine Summer's day. William's shift would begin at six in the morning; with twenty or so of his colleagues having gone to the Fair - an hour into the shift, only 143 Davy lamps had been handed out to the men going underground.
By Daniel Lyddon2 years ago in Families
Memories of an Accidental Nazi Hunter
On the night of March 10th, 1945, seventy German prisoners of war escaped from the Island Farm POW camp in Bridgend, South Wales. It was the largest breakout on British soil during World War Two, and has been dubbed "The Welsh Great Escape". A tunnel had been dug by the inmates from Hut 9 in the camp to a field outside of the boundary. At 04:00 the next morning the escape attempt came to an end when a German officer was caught exiting the tunnel by a guard. What followed was a nationwide man-hunt that saw all the escapees recaptured within a week.
By Daniel Lyddon3 years ago in Families
5 authors who have influenced my writing...
It is a truth universally acknowledged that, if you want to be a better writer, you have to read. Read far and wide, across a range of genres, discovering new words, and new worlds. If you're a script writer, then read scripts and screenplays; if you're more of an author then read books. I have something like four full bookcases (thanks Ikea!) and a few extra piles of books taking up floorspace in my home - each book has been read at least once, with many being read twice, and some three or four times.
By Daniel Lyddon3 years ago in Geeks
