Goblin Library Dispatch September 2025
I love September.
I always feel excited and inspired by this time of year. Can you smell malt in the air and the sweet scent of horse chestnut leaves decaying? Can you feel the first sharp claws of winter, see them glinting as they catch the fiercest of the early autumn rays?
I begin writing too many things at once.
For a season synonymous with the beginning of hibernation, my mind is frenzied. ‘Just write about what you did this month.’ I tell myself.
’No,’ I bark back and laugh giddily. I can barely keep still.
I remember good moons. Then everything gets muddled.
I finished writing a book. It doesn’t feel real. Somewhere without me all the pieces are being assembled.
A strange practise. As if I floated the pages out with the tide and hoped for the best.
My hands are empty.
There are ghosts everywhere. I want to be frightened. I want candle light and gloaming. Blankets.
I want to tell scary stories. There’s ink on my fingers.
Edinburgh Zine Fair is coming at the beginning of November. I am writing new comics because I like to play in the shadow of these things and see what happens.
I rested this month. You should rest too. The winter is hard on all of us. The world is a sharp place, and dark enough in the summer time.
Hold someone’s hand if you can. Ask a river where it’s going. See what the sea is saying.
The Great Dog of Autumn will go with you as far as they can. Their coat is soft and brittle. It rustles when they walk. It catches the sun as if it could be kept.
But it can’t.
Draw comics against the coming darkness.
They will guide you when the Dog can go no further.