Official Red Omega

Anonymous Writer & Director!

I’m Going To Be An Uncle Again, Today!

So I’ve just received word that I am to become an uncle again within the next twenty four hours or so. My little sister who is a couple of years younger than me is on her way to the hospital to be induced into labour with my second nephew! It’s an exciting day, that’s for sure. My nephew is such a lovely, kind-hearted little chap and I can’t wait to have another to spend some time with. It sounds silly because my family don’t really see this side of me but I’m tearing up a little.

There have been some tragedies in my family with regards to babies. We lost two of my sisters in the early stages of Mum being pregnant (then how did we know they were girls you might ask? That’s simply what we choose to believe) and my sister Mayson almost made it to us, but there were alot of complications and she sadly passed away, so a new baby is a bitter-sweet thing. We are all excited about welcoming the new little one into the world, but we can’t help but think back to the three babies we don’t have here to cuddle and dote upon.

I’m worried for my sister, she hasn’t been coping very well with the later stages of pregnancy and as much as we sometimes don’t get on, she’s my sister and I don’t want her to go through pain, but on the other hand I suppose that this is just one of those things. I’m sure she will be fine.

I want to write a poem for the baby, one I can show him years down the road so I’m going to attempt one now, writing in real time if you like…


The Promise.


You haven’t been given a name yet

so I’m not sure what to call you,

Nephew! that made me smile just writing it,

Your mum’s on her way to hospital

and they’re going to let you out,

Your Nan’s on a mission and I think

Grandad’s just doing as he’s told,

I’m at home blogging while I wait

and your other uncle and aunties are all at school.


We’re all waiting in this big scary world

for you to come out and say hello,

To be honest, I would understand if you didn’t want to,

Knowing what I know now about the world,

Somewhere dark to sleep all day

doesn’t  be so bad.


But it’s happening, you’re coming out

whether you like it or not,

You have such a big family

and we’re going to be here all the way,

So you will never need fear

or be apprehensive of the world.


I called this poem the promise

and I might not have made it clear,

I… We promise that no matter what happens,

No matter how hard things get,

No matter who you are or what you do,

We will love you always, and guide you



Thanks for reading everyone!


I remain,






Just One More Page.

I love that feeling,

Where you lay reading in bed

It’s late and your eyes are growing heavy,

The light has long since gone

but the pages keep on turning in the lamplight’s dim glow,

You can’t stop now even though your eyes are closing,

You need to know what happens next,

You need to know.


Just one more page…


And you’re gone.

The Face Of An Anonymous Writer.

So earlier on I looked through comments on my social networking sites and I was taken aback. My followers on each site has soared and I wanted to take the chance to say thank you!

It’s an odd thing, writing anonymously. I said the other day that it allows you to know me not the perception you might have of me if you knew the details. You’ve all been so great, so supportive and have had nothing but kind words to say.

You’ve all also been asking for details throughout my accounts and so I will give you a few that I’m happy to release.

I a 21 year old Englishman. I’ve written most of my life and would describe by self as a clean cut, smartly dress young man with enough bad memories to provide books of and books of poetry.

As for the selfie you all wanted I can’t do it, it would defeat the point of me being anonymous, BUT I have edited a selfie with stickers and tints so you can see little bits of me.

I will leave you with the picture now guys but once again, thank you so much for the support!

I remain,



So You Want Forgiveness.

When I can sleep

and not feel flames lick their way up my legs,

When I can close my eyes

and not cringe at the stabbing pain I feel,

When I can rest

knowing that you are sorry,

I’ll forgive you.

The Struggle Of Writing.

So, how many ideas have you tossed into the waste paper bin?


Don’t try denying it, I know you have, I do it daily! All of a sudden a great idea flashes through your head and within minutes you’ve fleshed out a book, it’s sequels and the actors you are hoping will get the lead roles in the movie adaptation. I believe all writers do it, especially those who say they don’t. So why is it these ideas end up thrown to one side or worse, thrown away and forgotten about?

Lazy, procrastinating writers, that’s the answer. Writers who cannot be bothered to follow the idea through and commit it to the page in front of them. Why do they do it? Why are they wasting time? Why can’t they just settle down and get writing?

There are a number of reasons, truth be told. The first can be simply that they have so many ideas that they don’t know which one they want to settle on. There’s the one where Kathy’s met the man of her dreams but he’s getting married to her best friend, or the one where the genetically engineered superhero has to launch a one man assault on an alien planet threatening earth with war, or what about the one where Jimmy gets lost in the jungle and stumbles across a temple full of terror and treasure?

It can be a bit much, can’t it? You have this handful of ideas, but you enjoy all of them, you want to write them all. At the end of the day this is understandable, it’s a huge undertaking to write a novel, potentially years worth of commitment. Which of these ideas deserves that commitment? You just can’t decide and so you distract yourself and never start any of them.

Another problem is you’re doubting yourself. We are all our own worst critics, this one I am especially guilty of. You want your work to sound good, to sound fluid, and when you read it back you rake through the words questioning their place in the sentence, if there’s a better way to word it or even if you need that sentence at all.

A few months ago I found myself writing a chapter at a time, then reading it alongside the works JK Rowling, Tolkien and George R.R Martin. I wasn’t interested in the content, I just wanted to see if it flowed as well, if my grammar was good and see if there was a better word to use. How silly is that?!

The fact is we all have our own styles and we all play by our own rules, quite frankly it’s one of the best things about being a writer. The resources we have now are unlimited, we have the internet, we have books, and best of all… We have each other. If you doubt yourself, please… don’t. Read, read often and read hard. Even book you open is a bank of knowledge to those who pay the right attention, even if the book simply teaches you what not to do.

One last thing I will say is that we get ahead of ourselves. As I said at the start, we plan to far ahead. The novel I am currently working only resembles the original idea through it’s basis and inspiration. It’s amazing, I had cast Michael Fassbender and Jared Leto within minutes of the story’s conception. I knew how it was going to end and I knew which characters would make it to the end.

The other big mistake is telling people! Don’t! Shh! Shut up! Quiet! Keep it to yourself or you may find yourself demotivated to tell the story. Why write a story that everyone knows the ending to along with all the twists and turns. If you have a close friend you can trust, by all means flash them a few samples to receive some feedback but even then, don’t share it all.

In closing, write! Write every idea you have. Stop worrying about how it reads, you can always go back and edit it or start again. Keep the idea to yourself and make sure you keep yourself as well as the idea grounded.

I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve got!

I remain,


Whispers In The Night.

I can’t sleep at night.


I hear words spoken to me by long gone friends

who’s voices I barely recognise,

Character’s begging for the chance to hear

their stories told,

While the wind blows through the house

whistling by before disappearing.


Somewhere a tap is dripping

seemingly without end,

My heart aches as if unloved

By some wonderful young beauty,

All the while my eyes

refuse to close.


The whispering continues

drifting through my mind,

I know it’s all in my head

which surely makes it all the more real,

Madness I tell myself,

Silence shall fall with you closing eyes.


I feel pain long gone, bones

that are no longer broken,

The burns up my legs sear

with white, hot rage,

Yet the whole time

the whispering continues.


I cry out in the night

to be met by silence,

Digging it’s claws into my

over-active imagination,

Will I sleep tonight?

Will the whispering end?


By Red.



Were I Not A Writer.

I lay the words down on the page,

Dealing death and judgement to my own creation,

Shunning my own hearts growing rage,

Unable to bear the loss on occasion.


Knowing that they are for ever gone,

Unless my pen leaks some poor souls lifeblood,

Then watch, as from death they come,

Before the page ruins, from a teary flood.


The pain of writing is matched only by the love,

That heals our hearts, making us complete,

As the happy ending we wanted has falls from above,

And lands on the ground, in front of our feet.


I would not experience this were I know a writer,

And knowing this, I hold my pen that little bit tighter.


By Red.




How Re-reading A Book Changed My View On Select Characters

So this evening I was going to talk about an upcoming project I am working on but I’ve changed my mind. What I want to talk about instead is the work of someone else and how my views on two of it’s characters changed, simply by re-reading it. I’m talking about George R.R Martin’s A Song Of Ice And Fire, more specifically the first in the series,  A Game Of Thrones with the characters being the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark, Jon Snow and his unexpected friend, Samwell Tarly.

To say that HBO’s adaptation has done well is an understatement, it would be more accurate to call it phenomenon. Famous for it’s twists, violence and characters so deep you might find them swimming around the bottom of the Laurentian abyss, the show isn’t afraid to emotionally devastate it’s viewers. The books on which they are based work in the exact same way.

George R.R Martin is nothing less that a master of his craft from who, any writer could learn a long list of lessons. His words are so fluid, his descriptions are so vivid that we as the reader might as well be stood in the throne room of Kings Landing or walking amongst the Wildlings beyond the wall. Though, amidst his world of politics, betrayal, war and murder are a number of sparkling moments.

When I began reading A Game Of Thrones, some two days ago now I went through the usual feelings we experience when going back to a book we’ve already read. We know where it goes, we know how it ends (well this book anyway) and we are thrown into a world that we already know to be forever changed. We may know all the secrets but that doesn’t mean that we won’t discover anything new, as I soon found out.


A Game Of Thrones By George R.R Martin. Published 1996

A Game Of Thrones By George R.R Martin. Published 1996

This is the edition of the book that I have and will be referencing so if you want to read the chapter I will be looking at the your looking for the Jon chapter between pages 251 -263.

A quick synopsis for those who haven’t read it but are interested in reading this blog to the end. Jon, the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark (a main character in the book) has joined the night’s watch, a group of warriors who man a seven hundred foot tall wall of ice, defending the land from the harsh lands far to the north. Discouraged by the realisation this group is not all he wanted it to be (the night’s watch is made up of all sorts of criminals who are given the choice between “taking the black” of the night’s watch or execution), Jon is making the most of his new life by teaching others how to fight.

One day while he is showing other boys how to fight, a new recruit is brought in. He is an extreamly fat boy named Samwell Tarly who is obviously very shy and doesn’t know how to fight, and is beaten ferociously by another boy who is told to fight him. Jon sticks up for him and is mocked by the other boys and one of the night’s watch commanders. Throughout the rest of the chapter we see Jon not only come to accept Sam as his friend but his own life, no matter how different it was to his hopes. We discover Sam’s tragic backstory of an abusive father and through Jon he grows enough confidence to join in with the other men of the watch.

So why this chapter? What is it about Jon and Sam that has changed in my eyes?

I suppose it’s my own fault but when I first read it I wasn’t very interested in the Jon Snow sections of the book because I didn’t like him. My interpretation of him was a boy who whined about his life because it wasn’t what he wanted and thought himself better than the others. This time round I appreciated him alot more through the way he acts with Sam.

Really, Jon could have been the same as all the other boys and mocked Samwell and at first he almost is. He doesn’t mock him but he gets frustrated with Sam because Sam doesn’t even seem to try to defend himself.

I believe the change in my view of them both came with a heartbreaking moment regarding Sam. On page 255 comes the following quote:

“I… I fear I’m a coward. My lord father always said so”.

Grenn looked thunderstruck. Even Pyp had no words to say to that, and Pyp had words for everything. What sort of a man would proclaim himself as a coward?

Samwell Tarly must have read their thoughts on their faces. His eyes met Jon’s and darted away, quick as frightened animals. “I… I’m sorry,” he said. “I don”t mean to… to be like I am.” He walked heavily towards the armory.

Jon called after him. “You were hurt,” he said. “Tomorrow you’ll do better.” 

Sam looked mournfully back over one shoulder. “No, I won’t,” he said, blinking back tears. “I never do better”.

Is that not heartbreaking? This overweight, rejected son of a lord who has no friends has such low self esteem, such a low opinion of himself he basically admits he is a coward to this gruff, rowdy group of men. He just seems to know that he’s going to get bullied and knows he can’t do anything to defend himself as he can’t fight or stick up for himself so he just accepts the abuse.

As someone who was bullied alot when I was younger and really fought back hard, all I want to do as a reader is run in and defend Sam, show him a good heart is more important that a strong sword arm and do what I must to convince him of this. It’s hard to read as it brings back some painful memories but Jon steps in.

As I say, they bond throughout the chapter and I was so wrong not to appreciate it the first time round. It’s a relationship that proves to be good in so many ways later on in the series although I won’t spoil it for you.

I think the moment you know that these two are going to be good friends and that Jon has finally moved on from his disappointment and misconception of the watch is right at the end of the chapter.

“We’re not friends,” Jon said. He put his hand on Sam’s broad shoulder. “We’re brothers”.

That just perfects an already lovely chapter. I think the best thing to come out of this is that I’m looking forward to reading Jon’s chapters again and when it comes to it, Sam’s. It’s almost like I have a whole new book to read. I know I’ve read the words, but I think they may not have hit home, maybe I was a lazy reader then but I’m excited.

It also makes me appreciate Jon more for who he is, the pressure he’s under and the self control he has when it comes towards the other members of the watch, especially Alliser Thorne.

I’m going to leave it there but thank you for reading this! I ramble on and although I’m not the best writer, I enjoy doing so!

I remain,



PS: I couldn’t resist


A Minor Setback Isn’t Always A Bad Thing

So today I had a little bit of a set back. I recently came into possession of a group of models, gargoyle models, all about seven inches tall. There were four of them in total and all of them had their own personality and a name to go by. Durk, Drod, Skran and Kibble were their names and in a strange way, they captured my imagination.

Within moments, stories were forming in my head and within minutes I had four short stories that would make up a somewhat lovely collection for a children’s book, if not the start of a series of short stories. I would tell the story of how Kibble got his horns, how Durk got so fat, why Skran has only one wing (my model came missing one wing, which in a way makes it that little bit more charming.) and how Drod, who I decided was a man before… became a gargoyle.

They were the kind of stories that reminded me of fairy-tales. They would have been magical, charming with just the right amount of humour to make a child want to read and laugh as they do. Who knows, it may have led to more characters and many, many books but alas… I looked them up on the internet.

All I had to do is type in the names of the gargoyles and straight away they came up. It turns out, rather than the random figures I thought they were, are in fact part of a series of models by (to what I have found which may not be correct) Carol Lynn Penny and Genesis Creations Ltd. Suffice to say I was disappointed, but that doesn’t mean the idea can’t move forward.

Stories can still be told of a fat gargoyle, a gargoyle who grew horns in order to scare the birds, how another lost his wing and how a man could turn to stone. I can’t use the names but suffice to say, I owe this idea to one lady’s lovely models. All this proves that a minor setback isn’t always a bad thing, it can still lead to something wonderful.

I just wanted to talk about these creatures, the thoughts they inspired and the stories I hope one day they will influence. I will leave you with this photo and wish you all the very best of days.


Gargoyles By Carol Lynn Penny

Gargoyles By Carol Lynn Penny

A Red Introduction

Writing anonymously has it’s perks. For one, you can be as open as you like without having to paint a target on your chest. This isn’t to say you can just go round offending everyone you come across, because that’s not what I mean. What I mean is that you can operate separately from your public image without having so many restrictions on what you can and can’t say. I’ve had friends who have answered questions with their own opinions and stood for something good, and have lost jobs, friends and family members over what boils down to difference of opinion.

Then there is the illusion itself. Behind my avatar, behind my blogs is a man tapping away at his laptop sharing his inner most thoughts and ideas. It doesn’t matter who I am, what I do or what I look like… the world will know me simply by my words. This will allow you to get to know me on a much more honest level, a personal level almost. Who knows what this will lead to but one can always hope for friendship and collaboration.

As you might have guessed, I am a writer. I spend my days weaving words and taking people to other worlds. Whether we are talking about stories, short stories, poetry, editorials, scripts or lyrics… I enjoy it all. I believe there are thousands of stories within each of us and I try my best to share those within me.

As for who I am… As a masked vigilante once said upon the pages of a comic book, “Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask”. True, it may not be a literal mask but the sentiment is still there. As for my name again, “I’m merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man, who he is”, so suffice to say, it’s my very good pleasure to meet you and you may call me Red.

I will be blogging here on WordPress as often as I can and I hope you’ll join me on the journey. My aim is always to better my writing and meet interesting people so please, if you’ve made it this far through my introduction, feel free to follow me on Twitter at @R3dOm3ga or by all means email me over at I’d love to hear from you all!

For now I shall leave it there, thank you very much for reading,

I remain,

Red Omega