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2018 Best New Talent - Short and Sweet Festival Sydney
2014 Pushcart Prize nominee. (more)


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I DO NOT! (Or did I already do it?)


Warning - Rant Ahead. 

This was written in 2010 before I had any books published. Did I stick to my guns?

I  D O  N O T


I do not aspire to be the next Bruce Courtney. I do not aspire to be the next Di Morrissey. I do not aspire to be like Matthew Reilly. I don't aspire to be the next Dan Brown. Or Stephen King (even though I like his early books). Or Stephanie Myer, (God Forbid) or any other mainstream populist novelist.

They are the entertainers of their day and that is their right. They are the circus come to town. They are clowns in paint and frivolity. The court jesters in rhyme and folly.


But they will not be worth a word beyond their time. Their work will be forgotten as quickly as it was consumed. The McDonalds of Publishing.


I aspire to create something that is worthwhile, that I can be proud of. That perhaps can be admired by a few, and that's all I'm after, as long as it has some merit. Who wants to leave this world knowing what they did and left behind was disposable, as disposable as the day they created it?

Gone. Forgotten. Yesterday's story.

It's like an architect who wants their work to be respected in decades hence, rather than a kit home than will only suffice. For Now.


Sure we might need them. The masses have to be entertained somehow. But just don't justify it to me. Don't tell me your worth more than the literary sect, because you sell the most. Or that they really want to be like you, but can't do it. You're totally misguided. You're only kidding yourselves. Bubble gum. Burger. Coke. Takeaway coffee. Daily newspaper.


Circa 2009

They claim that their mass appeal gives them worthiness. That numbers speak higher than critics. And it may provide them the means with which to exist comfortably. But we all meet in the same place in the end, and I'd rather have left something worth savouring, perhaps kept in a dusty bookcase or drawer somewhere, or even relegated to some digital archive as something perhaps worth reviewing to some future individual, than end up as recycled pulp for next year's toilet paper.


History has taught us that these mainstream diatribes do not survive. I'll take my chances. For I must be able to hold my head high, that I wrote to satisfy art, and to satisfy myself, than to satisfy the masses. I cannot think of a crime more heinous, than a person with artistic qualities, however minute, who shelved them in pursuit of something far more shallow. That is a crime that one cannot return from.


I'd rather die in obscurity that aim for the so called Bestseller List. I will never be there. I'll make sure of it. If by some absurd situation, I do, then I have failed.



Pen is mightier ... Around 2010

Bit harsh on Stephen King. I love his books. He'll be remembered for a long time.

I certainly had a lot of confidence then, even arrogance perhaps. Maybe that's what was required in order to get to the point where books could be written and published. It took a lot of drive and work.

Since then I have had nine books published, from 2012 - 2022. If you've read any of them, maybe you will know if I stuck to the ideals of that idealistic, determined writer. Did I?

Bottomless River - Novella

Caged Without Walls - Poetry Collection

For your pleasure - Poems and art coffee table book (collaboration with Paolo Rassu)

Pseudo Stars - Story Collection

Allowing a love to die is not murder - Poetry Collection (on relationships)

A Refugee's Rage - Novella

Lone Wolf World - Novel

Perve - Novel

Us & Them and the things in-between - Story/Poetry Collection

(This post, July 2024).

Questions for now;

Have I lost my drive? Yes. Much of it is due to anti-depressant withdrawal. My story here.  It's robbed me of my confidence. 

Will I ever write another book? I don't know. Not in the near future.

Do I have books ready to be published? Yes

Will I publish them? I don't know. Maybe one or two but not all. 

Does anyone care? Probably not haha.

If you have read any though, I would be interested in your opinion.

My Books HERE

or try these Amazon Author links.

Amazon Profile 1

Amazon Profile 2

Until next time,



It's not My fault. It's THEM!

Divide and Conquer

The Motto of Our Times 

Whine and Dine and be Divine

The world has seen

The Bronze Age

The Iron Age

and The Golden Age.

There was once

The Age of Innocence

The Age of Enlightenment

The Romantic Age

The Sexual Revolution Age

The Age of Industry

We Now live in 

The Age of Blame

"It's someone else's fault

I'm just a victim of their games."

Accept no responsibility

Deny all accountability

Play victim

And watch another get removed

In the Greatest Game of All

The Cancellation Game

Anyone can play!

Make an accusation

And watch them fade away...

Not my best poem but an accurate and ongoing reality in an era of demonization, censorship and 'removal' of anyone who dares has their own opinion.

I tried to learn where this image came from but it's been removed, hence it's low quality as it's just a thumbnail. How ironic. 

My YouTube Channel

A.J. Langford Books

We all need these


How you doing?

These past three weeks (really four months), I've had a hell of a time. We all have our problems of course. When your mental reserves are very low, then everything becomes difficult. Work, travel, getting out the door. But when faced with a big problem it becomes completely overwhelming. I feel like I barely got through. Let's just say I can see why people take drastic steps they can't return from.

Might explain more down the track but for now, I just want to push on and try to get back to normal. So here's a little one from the archives. Not published before.

Inherent to humanity is...



A story is a good thing

We need it

Even if we really don’t understand


It’s not as simple as entertainment

Or escapism

Or looking for a person parallel

Or any of these clich├ęs

It goes to the heart of communication

Between two people

Or more.


Otherwise we wouldn’t give a shit

What anyone said

Words flying off unnoticed into the breeze

Including to ourselves

As the deranged already understand

The need to hear a voice

It’s in our synapses

Bones and all

The need for a story

In text, film, TV or song

And if that don’t cut it

We’ll listen to some other wanker prattle on

Without telling them to shut the fuck up

Because no matter how bad it gets

We still want to know

…and then what…



(I certainly wouldn't write 'deranged' in a poem now but neither would I censor something written years ago).

I really do hope you're well. I know some on my reading list are going through really challenging times. Suffering is part of life but doesn't mean we can't talk to others or seek help or put up our hands in despair. We just want to know that someone is on our side. And a few were for me. You know who you are. Thank you.



A.J. Langford Books


A poem for my teenage daughter, though perhaps more for her future self



A little personal this week. 

Children. Teenagers. Parenthood. No walk in the park. A lot of rewards. Depends on the age and stage of life and what our own lives consist of. Like all relationships, sometimes they flourish with little effort, others, only difficulties despite the work.

As of this poem, my daughter is thirteen. She will need me again but not now. That's hard to deal with.

It's a normal rite of passage yet brings up a range of polarising feelings.



In the same way

That being older

Made me a better parent

It created a tougher time

For the turmoil

Of teenage hood.


There’s no easy way through

On either side

A survival of the tsunami

Made through endurance.


Though my coping ability

Is far less

Than a decade or so prior

Though I waltzed out the door

Once before

So perhaps not.


Yet, now there’s nowhere

To walk to

No escape

For the prisoner

Who built

His own cell.


I hope for a happy outcome

Though my tank is already empty

And the journey ahead

Too long.


So, I’ll say sorry now


That I couldn’t do better

And take the responsibility

Which is mine to own.




7.55 pm.


In 2022, not long before 'the change' aged 11 1/2.

To be fair to her, I'm not the same as I was two years ago either. Hence this poem I suppose.

Off for a few weeks 'head' break. Not a holiday. 

There's plenty of diverse, original videos over at My YouTube Channel and daily posts on my Facebook Author Page.
Hope you're well. 


Ambitions - Trying to create a future


We may have plans for the future but other factors will have their say.

Ambitions (in the scheme of things)


We were born in valleys

And moss encrusted fissures

Like million year old lichen

Eager for un-time stamped journeys.


The urge for individualistic dreams

Buried in nature’s progression

Unbeknownst to us

Chuckling, steaming, scheming

To the golden carrot

On a string

Locked in targets

And battles blossoming

As surging spawn seeks

To spread

To filter

To lead

While particles continue to harden

On fallen rocks.


Pre-occupations soar

Cutting colour into the sky

While continental plates


With ne’er an eye

To what’s Above.


Ambition seems furthermost from my mind these days. A decade ago, was a different story (yet with a grip on the tangible). Always good to dig back into the older works. The newer ones seem too gloomy. Though perhaps more honest. 

No-one gives a fuck anyway. The work finds who it should. And misses the rest. That's just how it is.

A.J. Langford Books

Until next time,



Video - Crackle like a record

Life is hard but sometimes the toughest battle is that within.

We're stuck in our own heads, like being caged without walls. 

This video is a poem I wrote about anxiety, written during a bad (yet endless) stretch.

Please watch Crackle HERE

Words 2020 / Video 2022

Yes, Caged without Walls is the name of my first poetry collection, published 2013. Many detail my own struggles and the struggles of others. So this is nothing new for me but now is an especially hard time.

My Anti-Depressant Nightmare

More Videos on My YouTube Channel

A.J. Langford Books

Hope you're faring okay. If not, loving life!



Love failing

Fragile beings we are, as Yoda may have once said. (Or sounds like said, he may). 
Peace to you, no matter your situation.

'Life is cruel, Life is tough
Life is crazy, then it all turns to dust.'

Tears for Fears - The Tipping Point

Peace to you, no matter your situation.

Head off at the pass

There’s little
To draw from
A trickle
Once a tenacious flow
Now bare moisture on rocks
Passion monochrome
Sucking in air
Suffocating fish gasps.

Inevitability laden
It all ends
Yet must remain unexpected
Sharp revelations
The lover who finally
Called it void
When optimism kept you breathing.

Betrayal is often obvious
(For the discerning)
Therefore self-sacrifice
Is the ultimate victor
Minus a winner.


Was initially to be included in the 2018 book... Allowing a love to die... but I dropped it.

How does it make you feel? Any thoughts on it? A relationship story you'd care to relate? 

Take care for now
Chat soon.

Peace and love

Steadying - A (short) Video



Hope you're doing well.

Here's a very short and hopefully uplifting video.

Not sure it relates specifically to the video but I like the image.
What it represents is open to your interpretation. 

Watch HERE

A.J. Langford Books