I have published poems, short stories, plays, art works in reviews and publications across the United States and Canada. I have several published books:
murder by Coach House Press. This book is a series of poems and illustrations set up like scenes in a movie, describing the murder, trial, and mob execution of an innocent man. Winner of the 2001 Eppie for poetry.
The Black Bird by. The Porcupine’s Quill. This is a book of poems, illustrations and short prose pieces describing the fictional making of the John Huston film, The Maltese Falcon.
Making Movies by Press Porcepic. This is a book of long poems, interviews, short fiction pieces about a fictional BBC documentary about a fictional Canadian film maker, Samuel Bremmer and his company of actors and colleagues. It follows his career through the creation of a series of his movies.
Church Street is Burning, a book of poems, was a finalist in the 2002 Eppie for poetry.
The God of Six Points, published by Double-dragon-ebooks. A man who believes he is a god believes he has murdered one of his subjects.
Sleeping Beauty, published by LTD ebooks.com is a murder mystery. A woman lands in a small village where the only escape is to be murdered. Finalist in the 2003 Dream Realm Awards. Winner of the 2004 IP Book Awards.
The Hole, published by LTD ebooks is one in a series of cop stories. There are unusual happenings in the quiet suburb of Islington. People have begun to disappear. And they have been disappearing for generations. For the soon to retire Sam Kelly, this is his last case as a detective. All the clues point to a mysterious hole, which appears to have no bottom.
In 2007 I was short listed for the C.B.C. Literary Contest in poetry.
Where to find David Halliday online
Diary of a White Virgin
The mystery that is a teenage boy. Half way between surliness and joy. The poems are short and brief like a kid running.
My Hair Is On Fire
When I was twenty my hair was down my back. Orange and dusty. I felt like a god. Beautiful and outrageously vain. Standing in the Kipling Station. I could have stood there forever. When I stepped on the train I was 40 and everything picked up speed. The last decade has been like a long weekend. My eyes are watering. And my hair is on fire.
On the edge of the universe awaits the parking lot. And the plaza. The peasants. The innocents. The cripples. The children's games. And death. Where lives unwind in Bruegelish irony. Afternoon Shift, the second in a series of three jazz novels.
In Sleeping Beauty, winner of the 2004 Independent Publisher Award for Best Horror and winner of the 2004 Electronic Publishers Award for Best Horror, a young woman boards an airplane for an unknown destination and finds herself in a quaint village where each citizen has his own story to tell. A horrifying mystery is revealed to the young woman. Soon she discovers that the only escape from the village is murder - her own.
Each month has a pic. Each pic has a story. Some of the stories are true. Some of the stories were found on Wednesday afternoons.
My grandfather used to sneak out during the day to a brick wall that existed between he and his farming neighbour. Under a rock he would find the latest pulp novel. In that way my grandfather and his friend would exchange books, reading them in those lazy afternoons when it was too hot to work in the fields. I have dedicated these poems to those pulp novels.
On the edge of the universe awaits the parking lot. And the plaza. The peasants. The innocents. The cripples. The children's games. And death. Where lives unwind in Bruegelish irony. Day Shift, the first in a series of three jazz novels.
The Planet Jack: Thoughts On Here
A planet spins on the edge of our solar system. It is remembered in folklore. As the planet X, slipping near the earth on its way passed the sun. Bringing death and destruction. It is the apocalypse. The end of days. Its real name is Jack
The Black Bird
Bogart. Actor. Celebrity. Husband. As Sam Spade. In the movie The Maltese Falcon. Baring of a soul. Stripping down of a life. Reaching beyond the point of death. To Bogart as a boy. Steeped in mythic reality. Originally published in 1982 by The Porcupine's Quill. Finalist in the 2004 Eppie Awards for Poetry.
Women Gone Mad Part 2
Unravelling. Breaking down. The end of the world. Looking over the edge. Women gone mad.Again.
Women Gone Mad Part 1
Unravelling. Breaking down. The end of the world. Looking over the edge. Women gone mad.
A life of ambition leads a great man to destroy everything around him.
The Box by Matthew Chambers
I met Matthew Chambers in a cafe in a small village of Hamme, Belgium. We talked on several occasions and always I had the impression that he was a man who was being pursued. I knew not by whom. And then one day he was not at the cafe at our accustomed time. Weeks passed. No Matthew. And then one morning this manuscript appeared on my door step.
Two factions of children in separate schools find themselves at odds. One is humiliated but rises to take vengeance on the other. It was war. And the children loved it.
The Death of Lou Grant
A man is dying in his backyard of a heart attack. He begins to recall his life. Except that it is not his life. It is the life of a fictional character from a popular television situation comedy. And he can't...
Church Street Is Burning
A finalist in the 2003 Eppie Best Poetry Collection, Church Street Is Burning, in illustrations, short stories, and poems, tells the story of the poet as a young man. Lost. Abandoned by the woman he loved. Bewitched by the street he lives on. Forgotten by his God. Searching for some rational order in a world fallen on its side. And leaking.
Homicide: Now and Then
Death comes in the quiet of our thoughts. When we were looking the wrong way. At the moon being smothered by a cloud. It begins in panic. Thrashing out. We want to live. Something standing over us. Waiting for our last breath. Murder. Now and then.
Before I began to listen. In my younger days. I ranted. Invited into small spaces. Where my nose was rubbed in my words. Listened to my fellow poets. Bleed. Black. And wondered if I heard an echo. Or was everyone crazy. These were the Crowd Noises.
The Saints of Jazz
They began their careers in small clubs. And cat houses. In choirs. And minstrel shows. They were applauded. Made famous. At times they were loved. They made a lot of money and spent it. On booze. On drugs. On men. And became famous. Some died in small rooms without family. Some in the arms of their children. They were all different. They were the Saints of Jazz. And they loved to sing.
David Halliday’s tag cloud