Aaron Dembski-Bowden

Don't worry. None of this blood is mine.

Brett Duckley Confronts the Plebs.

My client, Aaron Dembski-Bowden, is unable to answer your nonsense this week. In my dual role as his literary agent and aquatic enforcer, I – Brett Duckley, agent to the stars – am here to deal with your tedious bullshit.

“My fees are reasonable. My ex-wives are not.”

So how can I be of service to you?

Do you:

  • …want to be a writer? Then post 150 words of prose, and I’ll edit it, showing you why you suck, and why you should never waste my time again.
  • …want to know what my client is writing? I can enlighten you. I know all that jazz.
  • …have a question based on either publishing, or the laws of life in an English parkland? I can comprehensively deal with such queries.
  • …like ducks? Do you have any duck-based questions? If so, it’s good news for you. I am a duck. A real one! I fly south for the winter, I swim on ponds, and I do all that other great stuff that ducks do, like dying if they eat too much bread thrown by shitheaded English kids. Now’s your chance to communicate with one of the animal kingdom’s most truly urbane and cultured creatures: a male of the anatidae (that’s Latin, you know) family.
  • …need official representation, either in matters of literary merit or aquatic legality? My fees are a mere 10% of your profits, and the guarantee you’ll give me any stale bread you have, rather than put it in the bin.

So post, post now, and I’ll reply to your plebian concerns in the next blog entry.

For matters of extreme seriousness, I will consult with my partner (the co-founder of Duckley & Pondsworth Literary Agency), the esteemed Dr. Kyle Pondsworth.

November 25, 2010 - Posted by | Uncategorized |


  1. Dear Mr. Duckley

    What is the southern duck destination of choice this year? Where should the fashionable young duck about town consider taking themselves to while away the cold winter months?


    Comment by Sarah Cawkwell | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  2. Dear Mr Duckley.

    Can I have Dr. Kyle Pondsworth phone number….he’s super cute!


    A.R Fan.

    Comment by Xhalax | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  3. Mr Duckley,

    How does duck taste?

    Thank you. 🙂

    Comment by Sander | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  4. Mr Duckley,

    How do you keep your plumage so sparkling white? I demand to know your secret.

    Comment by RayeRaye | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  5. Mr Duckley,

    Is Count Duckula a being that strikes terror into the heart of all ducks?

    Comment by Jonathan | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  6. Are you actually a real duck?
    I don’t think you are.
    Your representation is a mere static photograph and your typing skills are somewhat formidible considering you have wings (with which to type).
    Also the comprehensiveness of your sentences/prose/questions only lend to the notion of a greater, much more nuanced mind at work behind it all.
    Which would incidentally mean that you’re in fact not a duck at all….are you?

    Oh, and would you be so kind as to ask your partner, the esteemed Mr. Pondsworth, how the fuck he got orange fingers.
    I’m guessing the photograph is recent, as I’m hoping it’s something to do with pumpkins, if not I look forward to the answer with much excitement.
    Many thanks innit,
    Mr. R. A. White esq.

    Comment by Rob Ashley White | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  7. Dear Mr. Duckley
    in regards to your client i have a question to do with his forth coming work, will his grey knights books interlink with others of it’s type (i.e Ben Counters) or will it be a completely seperate story?

    Comment by J.Sibley | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  8. Dear Mr Duckley
    Why did the duck cross the road? Was it because his cock was stuck in a chicken?

    Comment by Richard Ford | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  9. Rob,everybody knows ducks type with thier feet using thier wings is just plain silly. Clearly Mr.Pondsworth loves his Doritos.

    Comment by BigWill | November 25, 2010 | Reply

    • I see where you’re coming from man, I really do…but naaaa. 😛 😉

      Comment by Rob Ashley White | November 26, 2010 | Reply

  10. Dear Mr Duckley,

    How are you and Dr Pondsworth coping with climate change? It’s affecting us all, but especially migratory birds and funky little amphibians.



    Comment by G | November 25, 2010 | Reply

  11. Dear Mr. Duckley,

    I’m a writer, but I often wonder if I should become a ninja. Thoughts?

    I would also give you spare bread. 🙂

    Comment by John the Great | November 26, 2010 | Reply

  12. Is it true that ducks reproduce through gang-rape? I heard that once.

    Comment by Tom | November 26, 2010 | Reply

  13. Mr. B.D.

    Do you stand and watch your client with a whip in hand and commando bill-knives ready for any sort of tomfoolery that he may create?

    Comment by Lord of Insanity | November 26, 2010 | Reply

  14. Dear Mr Duckley,

    How big is your bill?

    Comment by ColCorbane | November 26, 2010 | Reply

  15. Dear Mr. Duckley,

    How do you feel about the game, Duck Hunt? Do you think its degrading to species as a whole that children grew enjoying the slaughter of innocently flying ducks?

    Also, was your ex-wife a Red-crested Pochard? I hear they can be real quacks.

    Comment by Lord Tharand | November 26, 2010 | Reply

  16. All I gotta say about a duck that’s also a lawyer.

    Don’t get me started on the frog.

    Comment by Khestra the Unbeheld | November 27, 2010 | Reply

  17. Dear Mr. Duckley,

    Yes I most certainly am interested in being a writer and I intend to submit multiple novel and short story pitches to Black Library once the 2011 submissions open but until then, I most certainly will see your dare and raise you a prose my fine feathered friend.

    This is a small excerpt from a currently untitled Emperor’s children novel I’m working on. Feel free to edit it and show me why I suck, I could use some good criticism to see how I can make my work better. 🙂


    ‘Worry not my dear captain.’
    The child of the Emperor spoke with a cold serrated smile. The whirling drill of the narthecium punched through the reinforced bone of the Crimson Fist’s ribcage, staining the regal blue war-plate with flecks of bright red. The Astartes howled in pain as a gauntleted fist searched through his organs, and Villias’ lips cracked into a crooked grin as he ripped out his secondary heart.
    ‘Your gene-seed shall carry on without you and continue the line of gene-broods.’
    There was a sickening crunch as the apothecary sank his teeth into the artificial implant, biting into the captains still beating heart as it were some delicious fruit. The delicate flavors played upon his tongue with a visceral sweetness that no gourmet meal could duplicate.
    ‘If memory serves me correct, the Iron Warriors pay handsomely for harvested progenoids.’
    The dying commander’s look of horror warmed Villias’ soul.


    Thankyou for your time.

    Comment by Alexander Leleux | November 27, 2010 | Reply

  18. night lords+horus heresy

    that is all…

    Comment by Jamal Davidsteinberg | November 27, 2010 | Reply

  19. Dear Mr Duckley

    Why are swans such massive twats.

    Kind Regards,

    Comment by Cor | November 28, 2010 | Reply

  20. Dear Mr Duckley!

    What is duck ala orange in English?

    And one for your esteemed client if I may, great idea for your next contribution for the Heresy series, I think you will really do the World Eaters justice! Any thoughts on a working title yet? Any hints regarding the plot, will it be set in the Age of Darkness for example?

    And also, is there any updates on your interest in writing a Black Legion duology regarding Abaddon’s rise to power?

    Cheers, ta, thank you, merci, gracias, danke.

    Comment by What'd you call me? | November 28, 2010 | Reply

  21. Mr Duckley.

    In the cartoons, Donald Duck never wears pants. And yet, in the episodes where he takes a shower, he exists the shower stall wearing a towel around his waist.

    Please explain.

    Comment by turkeyspit | November 29, 2010 | Reply

  22. From a small outcrop of sculpted wraitbone Q’ Sandria watched the the light from the nearest star bathe the Dome of Crystal Seers in light as the craftworld drifted into it’s rays. The effect was like the dawn on a planet, the dome was immense and bathed in the light of this friendly star hundreds of the beautiful silver trees turned to gold and seemed to glow warmly from within.

    Once Qu sandria would have found peace and affirmation at such a sight in this of all places. The souls of the Ulthwe’s long dead seers came to join their ancestors here, the dome serving as a conduit for the wisdom of the past to be shared with the living and a place of rest for their bodies ,which over the centuries grew into stunning silver trees of a singular pure beauty.

    Before her recent difficulties Qu sandria would have once seen the tiny wraithlights and heard what could only be described loosely as music at the edge of her consciousness. Her mentor had once described the noise as the dreams of the dead, due to his advanced years and his incredible psychic attunement he was able to tap into this more strongly than any other Eldar and uniquely re live many lifetimes through the eyes of those who came before.

    The discord within her was a concern she was unable to process without his guiding touch. his loss was a void in her soul.

    Whilst contemplating this, the large black stone she carried, a gift from him, started to vibrate ,alarmed Q’Sandria pulled it from it’s place in her pouch but as she drew it forth in an attempt to see the stone violently pulsed with an overwhelming piercing purple/blue light, blasting her mind and forcing her conscious self free from her body.

    Time passed in aeons.

    Tinkling ‘music’ assaulted her ears and battered her at a pitch and volume that would have obliterated her mortal shell. A series of giant incandescent runes flashed before her eyes faster and faster before smashing her back into consciousness.

    She picked herself up from the floor to find herself back in the dome, it was dark the silver trees catching the light in stark contrast to the black depths of the shadows cast by the void outside. As she started to focus better she realized subtle differences around her , noticeably there were less trees .

    She sensed another Eldar presence in the dome, as she realized the mind pulsed a request for her to join it, an imperative to share information a joining of minds, a brief after-shadow of …… familiarity and a hint of …. affection hung at the edges of the mind she touched.

    As she walked deeper into the dome she became aware that her clothes were different, she found herself attired as a male farseer. Shocked, she hissed an exclamation to khaine , the voice croaking from the mouth she now wore was not her own and male…..

    A mind cut into her bewildered thoughts “This is hardly the place for oaths Q’Sandria, you always ran counter to tradition, an anomaly I suppose,” the feeling that touched the words was gently mocking and almost fatherly , she felt like a naughty child.

    What is going on ? why am I here ? , what has happened to me ? I need your help !!, she sent back , pain and despair tinted her thoughts.

    Suddenly a silhouette appeared in front of her, gathering herself she realized the shape was that of a fully attired Farseer somewhat taller than herself. She raised her hand to her mouth in alarm , that hand was strangely cold and translucent , the hard parts, knuckles and fingertips like pinkish crystal turned silver at the very tips the manipulation of it and the rest of her arm was difficult and painful.

    “My apologies for the way this had to be done, nothing could discover what is to pass between us here” spoke the black shape, its voice familiar but distorted by the Ghosthelm it wore”

    “I must be quick you do not have much time. You currently share the memories of Sehyairen, he is shortly to pass into the infinity circuit and join the other seers who rest here, he is here with you but has agreed to this as it is the only way I can guarantee that after I have this conversation in my time no living eldar will know. Secondly and more importantly there is nowhere besides the black library itself that is safer for this knowledge to be kept safe from she who thirsts.”

    Q’sandria pulsed alarm and confusion to the mind-shape , “I know not this Sehyairen”

    The shape inclined it’s helm slightly ” you would not , how could you ?, this commune takes place 3000 cycles before the time your body occupies, his tree will have grown large on the spot we commune upon”

    Q’sandria-Sehyairen gasped , this is not possible , I have not even been able to sense the lights and symphony of the dome for some cycles now, my psychic powers have never manifested in this way”

    The shape turned slightly and appeared to be studying her.

    “No, you are a warlock, but you do have power, great power…. in a way the very rawness of your power allowed me to create this meeting of minds, you were never told, but those powers have manifested very differently in you than from any other of our kind now living ”

    Did you not find it strange that your mentor took much interest in you and made pains to develop your skills ? to teach you restraint and control ? to give you harmony ? The truth of your abilities I cannot even discuss with you now in this place, many in the council would have you cast out and you would not wish to know ……

    Several tiny spider like constructs Gently floated past briefly caught in the reflected silver light of a tree as they made their way through the dome .

    “I must also try to explain why you have been discordant recently . you are unable to feel balanced , pushing too hard for too long and too violently to find a way out for us.

    You have not ceased, training, searching, fighting. For cycles now the loss of him and your need has lead you to being on the cusp of becoming something incredibly potent, but also……. less , most Eldar will come to shun you ,for now all I can say is that you will need to seek advice from unexpected quarters and when the time comes you will know ‘who’ they are. It has been arranged …… you will become what you became”.

    Qsandria felt anger rising in her, WHY ! the word left with force only to collide with a barrier that flared white/blue with runes , the light briefly illuminating the scene , her eyes slid from the figure stood before her, she was unable to process the information or focus on it. The darkness returned and with it she felt her rage being absorbed and channelled back to her as peace warmth and comfort , the fatherly feeling came again at the edge of the contact.

    “She who thirsts has taken hold on an abandoned maiden world. There is something there for you, It is also extremely important to prevent the Mon’keigh discovering and removing certain artifacts that were hidden there before the fall of our race.

    These Antiquities will do terrible untold evil in the wrong hands. If retrieved, some may be of aid to you in your campaign against the great enemy. others must be returned to the craftworld or destroyed as they are far too apocalyptic to be left for the lesser races to abuse, especially the servants of the great enemy…..

    Q’Sandria suppressed in involuntary shudder, her blood turned to ice and she almost screamed as the consequences of failure were played out to her through the mind touch.

    “I am but one Eldar what can I do, my credibility is not what it once was with the council, I fear I am in danger of becoming an embarrassment”

    A calming sensation enveloped her thoughts.

    “Events have been set in motion the councils hand will be forced …… others who the council have less influence over will step forward, She who thirsts must be thwarted at every turn” the ‘others’ know this and you will know them…..

    The thoughts were tinged with force, her heart beat faster, she felt the touch of khaine rise up from within, a series of mind- flash images of armed warriors and shrine runes. again the wash of psychic emanation met a wall of blue/white rune covered force which absorbed and dissipated the wash of aggressive energies. Again the flickering light briefly illuminated the scene , Q’sandria caught herself trying to see the shadowy figure again , this time she could tell it had at some point removed it’s helm , her eyes slid from the features like water over a smooth rock, all she could glean was a hazy after impression.

    With a shock of contact she found herself staring into two eyes that were not eyes, massive, black and lumnous, they seemed to have an inner light . As they locked to her own gaze she found herself staring into eternity she almost felt as if she were looking at the universe from a great distance, for a microsecond she had the sensation that she was able to see, hear, feel, touch, taste and smell everything.”

    The voice cut into her consciousness “Sehyairen’s body is fusing with the dome, we are out of time, I must send you from here or you shall be trapped in the infinity circuit until the time of The Rhana Dandra ! ”

    A roaring began and as the universe rushed to consume her, the strobing kaleidoscopic rune lights and crushing tinkling music-noise assaulted her once more, accompanied by the sensation she was falling towards something with great velocity.

    From a great distance she heard the voice of the figure.

    You will soon find a new beginning and a confirmation of faith.

    Feeling the contact fading away to nothing Q’sandria Shrieked in desperation

    ” WHERE !? ”

    The final word burnt into her mind like a solar flare.


    Comment by Black light | November 30, 2010 | Reply

  23. Mr Brett Duckley

    …what advice could you give to a lowly pleb, who’s only social friend is taking advantage of his generosity? I have known this person quite well for over a decade, yet, as of late there has only been brewing in deference and hostility. No acknowledgement for anything, not even a basic greeting. Any faults or accidents are constantly highlighted and spoken of. I. Always offer support, encouragement advice yet I receive none in return. I actually dread asking for assistance now, as I have gotten weary of being ignored.

    I ache, hurt and feel discarded.

    If this is simply a matter of life, I wish I can sleep.

    I just, want to be accepted

    Comment by WarChild | June 28, 2013 | Reply

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