THE EDVANE DISPATCH Issue Twelve · September 12 2026
“It means stop asking politely.” Keb, Rend Hul!
The Edvane Dispatch · Jonathan B. Edvane · edvane.world

Good evening to you from Ravenstone, and thanks for joining me once again. I have experienced a lot of rejection this week. As authors, we all must, yet it is almost always shrouded in secrecy. The author wants to move on from their rejections, and the editor will be banking on that so that their decision isn’t scrutinised. I believe that both parties must own these decisions, and that is why I created The Returned on my website, which I talk about in the News section. My rejections, unvarnished. Take a look.
I finished reading The Black Company, and my Goodreads review sets out my thoughts. It got four stars from me. I moved on to The Dying Earth by Jack Vance and DNF’d it fairly quickly. It’s a turn-based RPG made into a novel for me. Can’t recommend it. I’m now on the quite mystical Piranesi by Susanna Clarke, and I’m quietly hooked and waiting for the twist. The audiobook is really well voiced by Chiwetel Ejiofor.
I went to a regional branch meeting of The Society of Authors this weekend and met some excellent people writing in a range of genres. Afterwards, I was left deciding whether to join them and pay for membership in the national body. It’s a hard no. I wasn’t aware of this before, but it is effectively a trade union and brings with it campaigns against things, especially any and all use of AI for anything whatever. And of course, left-wing politics driving views about what writing should be and who it should be for through a lens of rights and culture. I don’t need it, and I could never give it money, even for the privilege of being around other authors. I’m interested in writing, not chanting outside the Houses of Parliament or Meta's offices.

A traveller shelters at an inn. The innkeeper has a story. The story has teeth.
This one grew from a Bluesky discussion with Beth Greenberg about one of my VSS365 flash fiction posts. A traveller takes shelter at a roadside inn, and the innkeeper tells him about a duke, a feast, and a cook who appeared from nowhere. The meat was extraordinary. What came out of it was worse.
This is a traditional frame story, the kind told by firelight when you would rather not look at the person sitting across from you.
A new story publishes most weeks at edvanestories.com where you can access and read, or listen to, the entire archive.

The manuscript goes out. The rejected stories come home.
The Shivering Vale manuscript
A quiet week. I am preparing the final manuscript pack for The Shivering Vale, which goes to Enchanted Ink Publishing tomorrow. From Monday, they begin work on the cover, formatting and illustrations. This is the first Durn Yew novel, and it has been a long road to get here.
The Returned
I have added a new section to the website called The Returned. These are stories I submitted to publishers or contests that were passed on. Rejection is often a secret business between author and editor, but I think both should own the decision. Mine can be seen and judged on those pages.
Four rejections rest there at the moment. The Corpse Candle, Sitting Still, Brotham Park and She Never Came Home. Take a look.

Five characters, five standalone stories, five unanswered questions.
Introducing Characters Through Short Fiction
Every character who carries the story in The Shivering Vale appeared first in a standalone short story, published freely as part of Tales from the Woldwood. I wrote this post about why the novel should not be the first time you meet them. Edric, Alys, Wryke, Drenn and Matthis, and how each story plants a question that only the novel answers.

VSS365 is a daily micro-fiction challenge on X. One prompt word, one complete story, 280 characters. Each week I will share my favourite of the seven. My favourite prompt this week was melange.

They found it beneath the old apothecary, a melange of man, beast and devils, stitched together by twisted hands. It opened six different eyes. The priest called it an abomination. The mayor called it impossible. Then its mouths opened too. "Wrong, sirs. We are hungry."
Discover my VSS365 flash fiction posts on X and Bluesky.
The Edvane Dispatch goes out every Saturday. If someone you know would enjoy these stories, send them to edvane.world/follow. Explore my newsletter archive HERE
Thank you for your support and remember, Stay Dark.
You just read issue #12 of The Edvane Dispatch. You can also browse the full archives of this newsletter.
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