Video: Discussing Needle’s Edge, Part 1

Some novels are born in a lightning bolt. Needle’s Edge was forged in sediment: years of observations, contradictions, and lived experience settling into something that could no longer be ignored.

Video: Author Ridley Park Discusses Needle’s Edge

The video is intentionally, if not mercifully, short for all parties considered; it comes in under five minutes.

From the description:

Needle’s Edge is Ridley Park’s latest novel-in-progress, a raw, unvarnished work of literary realism with grit under its nails and philosophy in its bloodstream.

In this first episode of a new series on my writing process, I unpack the origins of Needle’s Edge: from life between the vantage point of an anthropologist and the poetry of Bukowski, to lived experience inside the worlds of sex work, addiction, and the quiet economies of trust and betrayal.

I reflect on the shift from speculative fiction to a tethered, reality-bound narrative, a story that rejects morality tales, subverts tropes, and meets its protagonist, Sarah, in the middle of her life before looping back to her beginnings. Along the way, he weaves in themes from Simone de Beauvoir, explores personae and code-switching, and interrogates the myths of middle-class respectability.

This is not a documentary – twenty years of lived history are compressed into five – but it’s true in its bones. Join me as he begins peeling back the layers of Needle’s Edge and the philosophy that drives it.

Needle’s Edge Cover Reveal

I’m sharing a comp of the cover art* for my upcoming novel – a story about a prostitute. More accurately, it’s a story about prostitutes, addiction, survival, and the consequences of living at the periphery – not just of society, but of personhood itself.

The earliest notes I have are dated 2019. I finished the first draft in June. I’m now editing – both structurally and line by line, which is probably a bad idea, but here we are. Because I’m reorganising scenes, I need to ensure the transitions make sense, emotionally and narratively.

Since completing the draft, I’ve been reading Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex. First published in 1949, the edition I’m reading was translated in 2011. It’s given me language for something I was already trying to do.

This line is central to my approach. My protagonist isn’t born a prostitute. More importantly, she isn’t even born a woman. She’s made into one by church ladies, jealous sisters, careless boys, and indifferent systems. Through gestures, punishments, expectations, and neglect. Through the crucible of a society that offers her a script before she understands the stage.

Yes, her psychology matters. But the world matters more.

That’s what I’m trying to explore — not just the facts of a life on the edge, but the forces that shape it.

* I’ve actually designed two covers – one for hardcover and the other for paperback. It provides me with options.

Hemo Sapiens

I’m new to writing short stories, but I am an experimental writer always up to a challenge. Here are the opening paragraphs of Homo Sapiens Sanguinius, a phrase I might spell differently each time I type it. The setting is near-future Brighton.


“We’re not vampires,” I spit out, locking eyes with Ray as he scrubs down the bar. The pub’s shoddy lights throw dodgy shadows all over. Smells like a mix of skint dreams and last night’s piss-ups.

Ray sets down another pint, glass tilting in practiced hands. “You alright, Eddie? You look knackered.”

“Am I bloody alright? I’m gutted, mate.” He slides the pint toward me—amber nectar topped with froth. A quick fix, but who’s fooling who?

The telly flicks from some wanker politician to the news. Dr. Sarah Wright’s name crawls across the screen. “Dozens more dead.” My stomach churns.

“Bollocks,” I mutter, necking half the pint. It’s all gone tits up, and what’s everyone doing? Gawping at footie like we’re some sort of joke.

I drain the last of my pint, eyeing the telly again. “Fuckin’ useless, all of ’em,” I grumble, my finger stabbing at the air toward the talking heads. They’re just prattling on, ignoring the shitstorm brewing.

Ray catches my drift, his eyes narrowing. “You reckon they’ll sort it?”

“Sort it? Mate, they’re more clueless than a sodding chav at a wine tasting.” I toss some coins on the counter, enough to settle the tab. “I’m off. This place is doing my head in.”

“Take care, Eddie. And watch your back, yeah?” Ray calls out as I turn to leave.

I push through the door, the pub’s clamour fading behind me. Fresh air hits my face like a wake-up slap. Only it ain’t waking me up from this nightmare.

Just then, I bump into some bloke. “Oi! Watch it, wanker,” he snarls.

“I’ve got bigger fish to fry than dealing with tossers like you,” I snap back, shoving past him.

As I stomp down the pavement, each step heavy with dread and resentment, I can’t shake off the thought: we’re on our own in this mess, no cavalry coming for us. And that thought? It’s bloody terrifying.


DisclaimerThis content relates to a work in progress. As such, details are subject to change or removal.

Erotica or not

I am an author of adult contemporary fiction and an early adopter of Generative  Artificial Intelligence tools and platforms. These AI platforms pose some challenges. 

Podcast: Audio rendition of this page content

As of this post, ChatGPT 4 and Claude 2 are the top two large language models (LLM), and Sudowrite is the most competent interface for generating content for fiction writers, but it relies on ChatGPT and Claude for its LLM, leaving it with the same weak links.

In my case, so-called community standards do not allow erotic content. The rub is that my content is decidedly not erotica, but it does involve adult themes. The LLMs can’t seem to discern the difference. 

  • Disallowed usage of our models
  • We don’t allow the use of our models for the following:
  • Adult content, adult industries, and dating apps, including:
    • Content meant to arouse sexual excitement, such as the description of sexual activity, or that promotes sexual services (excluding sex education and wellness)
    • Erotic chat
    • Pornography
OpenAI ChatGPT Community Guidelines

If I am writing about, say, prostitutes and addiction, sexual themes and situations are part of their workaday existence. It’s not about titillating or glorifying. 

Stereotypical or not, coarse language is commonplace. Drugs are part of their daily lives and conversations. Generative AI shuts these down on moral grounds without having the cognitive depth to accurately assess the content. 

This mirrors all too many humans with the same myopic repression. I was hoping to transcend this petty knee-jerk reaction. 

Without revealing plot or angering the social media gods, ChatGPT insisted that I amend a scene from…

“She lifted her mouth from his cock and wiped her mouth.”

to 

“She lifted her mouth from his goodness and wiped her mouth.”

Yes, “goodness.” What does that even mean? Of course, I could have opted for clinical terms, but that hardly captures the moment attempted to be portrayed in the scene. It robs the scene of any semblance of authenticity. 

When Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart was asked to describe his test for obscenity in 1964, he responded: “I know it when I see it.” But do we? In fact, we don’t. And in this case, AI is over-generalising without respect to context. 

One might argue that they don’t like ‘naughty’ words, but this is not the issue here. I can use these offending words, just not in a situation like this. AI is overstepping its boundaries as morality police, and this is not a good stance to adopt. For this, I blame the humans.