Jackson Ford
Bio
Author (he/him). I write The Frost Files. Sometimes Rob Boffard. Always unfuckwittable. Major potty mouth. A SH*TLOAD OF CRAZY POWERS out now!
Stories (41/0)
What's the Difference Between Grind and Hustle?
I’ve been a self-employed writer for most of my adult life. That’s pretty fucking terrifying, actually. From the time I graduated university in ’07, I have spent (checks notes) just under three years in gainful employment. The rest of the time, I’ve been scrawling my little tushy off.
By Jackson Ford2 years ago in Journal
- Top Story - February 2022
Wordle Scares The Hell Out Of MeTop Story - February 2022
Like millions of other people, I take a little Wordle with my coffee. I don't need to describe to you what Wordle is. You probably play it already. And if you don't: here. Go on—it's OK. It'll take you five minutes, it's ridiculously good fun, it doesn't demand your extended attention or your data, and it's completely free (for now, anyway—more on that in a minute)
By Jackson Ford2 years ago in 01
5 Writing Hacks I Use Every Day
Writing fiction, when you get down to it, is a remarkably simple job. You sit in front of a computer or smartphone, and you transfer what you see in your head onto the page. That in itself can be tortuous and tedious and bewildering, but it’s not especially complicated. It’s a bit like Tetris: easy to understand, bloody impossible to master.
By Jackson Ford2 years ago in Journal
I Experimented on Myself for Two Years
It started with an offhand comment from my therapist. I'd been seeing her for about a year, to help recover from the trauma of a nasty head injury. I can't for the life of me remember what prompted it, but she suggested I keep track of my daily mood—the goal being to prove to myself that I wasn't miserable all the time.
By Jackson Ford2 years ago in Motivation
5 Things I Wish I’d Known When I Started Writing
A long time ago, I swore that I would never write about COVID. Good God Almighty, I fucking hate COVID. Except then, I got it, the first symptoms showing up on Christmas Day, like the world’s most fucked up present. I'm fine now (I think) but it was pretty scary for a while. Even though I was vaccinated twice over, I still had what amounted to a raging head cold, with an added dose of tight chest. It was miserable. Kids, if you take one lesson away from my experiences, it is this: get freaking vaccinated. I don't even want to think about what this disease will be like if you caught it without some antibodies in your system.
By Jackson Ford2 years ago in Journal
- Top Story - November 2021
The One and Only Rap Album I Ever MadeTop Story - November 2021
I’m obsessed with hip-hop. OBSESSED. Which is hardly surprising, when you think about it. I am a skinny, nerdy, white Jewish kid from Johannesburg. Of course I was going to gravitate to the most hardcore gangsta music I could find when I was growing up.
By Jackson Ford2 years ago in Beat
Dust
Jackie squatted in the prison yard, drawing symbols in the dust. He was gripping a stick between his thumb and forefinger, gently laying down circles and ciphers and codes. They'd become an endless spiral, swirling out from his feet. Sometimes he'd dig the stick deep into the dirt, gouging up little spits of earth. More often, he'd tap and tuck and tease until the fine details emerged.
By Jackson Ford3 years ago in Fiction
The Hitman and the Tea Lady
Nobody had noticed the eyeball at the bottom of the coffee cup. Certainly not the man sitting opposite Halloram on the train. The man was reading the Financial Times over the top of his glasses, and when he'd sat down at Doncaster he hadn't even glanced at the empty cup on the table in front of him. He was sipping his own coffee, limpid-brown stains already showing through the flimsy cardboard, taking small, measured sips through the tiny hole on the lid. Halloram wondered if he should ask if he could borrow the man's cup lid when he was done.
By Jackson Ford3 years ago in Fiction
Rewatching the Stupidest Movie Ever Made
The Boondock Saints is bonkers. It’s about two Irish guys in Boston who have a religious epiphany and start killing people, but who succeed only through a staggering amount of good luck. They are chased by an FBI agent who is even worse at his job than they are at theirs, assisted by a bumbling crew of cops who any sensible person wouldn’t trust with a paperclip dispenser, let alone a gun.
By Jackson Ford3 years ago in Geeks
Can I Ask You a Question?
What makes you love a book? Or a book series? When you find one that resonates with you—why? Why that particular book? What about this story or that story that makes you want to shout it from the rooftops, share it online, review it, badger your friends to read it?
By Jackson Ford3 years ago in Journal