I had great hopes at the start of this year, 2013, that the final part of The Silurian would be finished and published by November; but I failed to take into account that events in my personal life would come along to destroy all of those nice hopes.
In the beginning, back in 2003-2004 and onward, I wrote like a demon possessed, totally under Bedwyr’s control, completely lost into him and his psyche, but now, I’m like a spirit that has been cast out by a powerful spell, and I’m struggling to get back in. I admit too of being afraid of this final part: it’s the book where Arthur dies, where Bedwyr dies, where Britain will fall to the darkness that follows the death of Her Hero and those who supported him. To me, a Britain without Arthur is an alien world, almost unrecognizable, beleaguered, and the native Britons, the British Celts, are existing within a dying world. But maybe from Death comes a great rebirth, and the hope that Arthur will come again; that is what I want, I want to be the Fox again and ride with the King!