Not a bad week, in the world of my writing.
First I’m happy to announce a new story being available! Ann’s Golem is available to read at Stupefying Stories.
It’s a short read and just a little sad.
Amazingly my submission required only one action in the copy-edit, the removal of an apostrophe. Normally I typo all over the shop. (Like in my bio for the story – ugh).
The other thing is my progression from the first round of the Wyrm’s Gauntlet writing competition.
Round one’s challenge was to read and review Harlan Ellison’s story ‘He Who Grew Up Reading Sherlock Holmes.’ My 1300 word take was deemed good enough – despite copious typos.
Round two’s challenge is to write a follow-up story.
With the focus of the challenge being Harlan Ellison there has been discussion in some quarters as to how appropriate it is to focus on someone who assaulted a fellow writer on stage and then complained that she refused to accept his apology, amongst other abrasive and aggressive excesses over his lifetime.
There is a lazy canard which would excuse such behavior because it is of its time. That needs to die, especially when the assault was in 2006, hardly unenlightened times. Beyond that everyone needs to make personal decisions on how far we choose to excise the work of those who have made a career out of treating others with disdain and disrespect, especially from a position of power.
I’m making my decisions on a case by case basis.
And right now I’m away to work more on my round two challenge which is definitely not a celebration of the original author, nor even for the original story – which I really did not enjoy.
Yesterday I met with fellow writers.
My head is still woozy. My limbs are aching.
Beyond that, I met the writers of two of my favorite writers in the last five years.
First of all the details. We organised a meetup of Codex authors in the South-West region. Codex is a website for speculative fiction writers with at least one professional sale (my entry was a 400-word sale to Daily Science Fiction).
In the end, five of us made the meetup, and two of us relied on the fact that we were mutually dependent.
Those first two have written my favorite short stories of the last five years. First, Natalia. Listen to it here. Next, Gemma. Listen to it here. I think I managed to not fan-boy the meetings too much. Thank goodness for being aspergers!
We had a really relaxed day chatting over stuff. Some of it was WIP, and other writing-related, chat. But the best bits were off the wall. IE, which writer would you hobble? (as per Kathy Bates in Misery). And, which animal we would utilise in an animal/coffee/bookshop. We discussed cats, puppies, pigs, and tigers (mainly I suggested tigers – the others thought I may be the main focus of feeding in a me + tiger scenario).
Anyway, we all split feeling much pleasure had been enjoyed, and it would be good to do again. Natalia and I even suggested we’d be willing to support each other in meeting up, despite both of us preferring to not interact with others all that much IRL.
All in all, it was fun.
Apart from when Natalia & I got back to the carpark and there appeared to be a barrier down!
I’m not sure how Natalia coped, but I was running through a mantra that went ‘DONT PANIC UNTIL YOU KNOW FOR CERTAIN’ when we got within sight of the multi-story, and there were locked gates visible! Thankfully it wasn’t our part of the carpark which was locked, and a scant hour or so later Natalia was home, or close enough she was comfortable to walk. It took me another 2 hours to cover the last fifty miles as I had to have a caffeine break, went via the ferry, and missed one by 2 minutes!
All in all, a jolly fun day was had by me, and all others.
Actually, possibly all. Mainly because we were focused on sharing, experiencing, and having fun. I think we have a template for the next and all future meet-ups.
Three months since my last maundering entry into the blog. My longest hiatus to date.
In the meantime, I’ve celebrated the anniversary of twenty years of marriage to my wonderful SO – you would not believe how life-saving (literally) our sole pre-nuptial has been. It goes like this, ‘I promise not to murder you, or arrange to have you murdered.’
To celebrate we went to Madeira for two weeks. This was the first time we had been abroad together (only my second trip outside the UK in all). What a lovely island Madeira is, and very friendly people.
I was also diagnosed with Type-2 Diabetes. This was somewhat of a blow. I took a few weeks to assimilate the idea and followed that up with independent research to complement the handouts provided by the doctor. My research suggests a vegan diet can be effective in reversing this, predominantly, lifestyle induced condition.
The idea of becoming vegan took a little while to get my head around, being a confirmed carnivore with a love for all things cheese. But I developed a mantra to help: Nothing tastes as good as well feels.
So far so good. Four weeks since changing diet I am fourteen pounds down, and lighter than at any point since moving to Cornwall two-and-a-half years ago. I look forward to losing more weight.
How has any of this, alongside the ongoing ME, affected my writing?
I determined that this year would be a year of finishing things. This I am doing, though somewhat slowly. Right now I am halfway through a novella/novelette which is the middle of a cycle of three. The first was completed three or four years ago. The third has a couple of thousand words of a start. But the middle one was only a few rough ideas. Strangely, or not, finishing the third couldn’t happen as I needed to know key details that occur in the timeframe of the second. So I’m finishing the second.
When completed this will give me three novellas/novelette’s with an anticipated combined word-count in the region of forty-five thousand words. At which point I will try and find a publisher, while considering how to set a novel in the same world.
One thing that I have definitely been better at so far this year is submissions. Fifty-seven so far this year, with one acceptance so far.
Hopefully, there is more to come.
Lastly, I’ve revamped my Acceptances page, with a chronological list of accepted pieces, and links to where they are available. Go have a read!
Moving into the dying days of the year. The nights are long and cold, the days short and grey – well, short, we’ve had some glorious sunshine even as parts of the country have suffered through the couple of inches of snow that would have a Canadian pulling out deckchairs and calling for a barbecue.
And it’s been a funny old month storywise for me. After nothing all year I’ve had three stories released in two anthologies in the last week or so.
The first is in The Infernal Clock and is called The Green Man’s Fête. A reporter at a local spring festival isn’t all he appears to be, but then the festival isn’t all it appears to be either. This is available as either a download or hard copy. I’d recommend considering getting the physical book, the cover is absolutely glorious. Apart from my tale there are 15 others to revel in, and a wide variety of writers demonstrating their skills.
Secondly is Afromyth. This is a collection where the focus of the story is on people of African or African descent, and non-caucasian. My first story here is Fishing Lake Tanganyika where a man takes up fishing to feed his family after being made redundant. Will his grand-mothers belief in his abilities be enough to sustain him in trying times? Later on in the anthology I have The Black Birds of White Oaks. Set in a southern US state some-time after the civil war it tells of a young Boston woman on a trip to collect folk memories from ex-slaves. What she discovers stretches across the atlantic, into the Anti-Atlas mountains, and all the way back to stories of Prometheus, Zeus, and a portion of human existence glimpsed only through the veil of myth. With 10 other stories from a wide variety of writers this powerful collection will set your imagine whirring.
I hope you take time to read not just my stories, but all who have tales in these two exciting anthologies, and more than that, add a review on Goodreads or Amazon.
Of the three stories I am proudes of Fishing Lake Tanganyika. Realistically it could be a story without a fantastical element, and it would still hold together, because it is firstly a story about a person, and personal interactions. Of course, all stories must contain these, but they are rarely the focus of something I write. Asperger’s tends to make that personal level of interaction difficult for me to negotiate on the page but I think that I’m reaching a point where I can do it with more confidence, and for me this story is the current high spot.
Because advancement is incremental, because – while I’ve written lots this year – I don’t have an awful lot of finished material, and even less that has been picked at and polished until it is suitable to be submitted anywhere.
We had our first session together a few days ago, and it was most heartening to hear Gareth’s assessment of the writing portion I’d submitted. Now I’m working on internalizing the advise recieved to allow ongoing writing to incorporate it organically.
I’m also perservering in trying to finish draft one of my novel. This is the novel that a month or so ago I declared to be a novella. What changed?
Earlier this month I was at a How To Be Published day run by Writers & Artists (thank you, Juliet Pickering, for the ticket). We had a series of talks, followed by Q&A sessions. The session by Cally Taylor discussed story structure and, as we went through it, I wrote down the sections, then matched them to what is already in my story. It helped clarify that the bones of a proper novel are there. This was heartening because I’d begun to think of the story as an amorphous amss of words lumped together in a hopeful, yet random order (despite me having a pin board with the scenes, sequences, and characters all mapped out).
Seeing the parts of a novel written down, and seeing my extant work marrying up to these parts, has reinvigorated my desire to finally get that first draft complete. It should have been completed by now, but that slipped, and now I’m aiming for the end of the year.
My ME, and the house. For a while now my ME has been quite bad. The time I’ve had to write is in the evenings, but by the time I sit an enervating fog has fallen between my ears. Holding a single cogent thought in my head is difficult, manipulating that thought to amend, increase, expand, develop, or otherwise work it has been nigh on impossible. Much easier to sit and scroll through twitter while having a film play in the background. This hasn’t been helped by the chaos of us moving things around in the house so that there is not an area I can lay claim to as my writing spot, no calm, quiet, zone I can retreat to and work in.
Some may look at this and think it is just an excuse. It may be. But it’s a debilitating confluence of explanations for me. One alone I can work with, I have so in the past and will in the future. But together, it is a real writing killer.
By next week there should be some order in the house, and then the wife and children go up to Scotland for a couple of weeks. This should allow me the time to clear my head, clear the decks, and get ready to hit 2018. Plans for that to follow when I see how the next week or so goes.
I’ve never kept a diary. It goes back to an episode of Taggart I once saw. Mark McManus, playing the eponymous lead character, tells a teenage boy, whose diarized confession of infidelity have led to murder, “If you don’t want people to know things, don’t write them down.”
And, my chaotic personality tends to shy away from anything as regular, or staid, as penning thoughts or experiences in a diary.
Which is why this blog is the exercise in tardiness it is.
But two months is too long a hiatus.
I shan’t bore my few followers with all things that have happened, because that would be boring, and I have no record of them, because I don’t diarize… Hang on, that’s getting a bit circular.
First off I’d like to start with thanks and apologies. Both to the same person: F E Clark. A talented artist from north-east Scotland I came across the artwork on twitter. I was interested in using one as a book cover. We had a DM conversation on twitter about it, and I was appraised of the reality that my buying a piece of artwork did not afford me the rights to reproduce as I saw fit. I would not own the copyright.
That was great.
A couple of months later, preparing a collection of Sci-Fi stories for self publication, I remembered the art, and the artist, but completely forgot the conversation. I went to etsy, started looking for a piece which intersected subject & price, and purchased one. Happy with my purchase, and excited by the upcoming release, I tweeted about having found artwork for the cover.
Well, the artist saw the tweet. Clocked the purchase, and put two+two together. I received an irate (justly) DM from the artist, and a link discussing the copyright issues. I’ve apologized, and learnt a lesson. This is by way of another apology, and a thank you. Without your awareness, F.E.Clark, I’d be in breach of copyright.
The incident shook me somewhat, and self publishing the collection went on hold.
I have been writing. Not much, but enough to keep forward motion. One of these projects is a novel, a space operetta. It’s been underway for several years, though it was on hiatus for quite a while. It’s a strange process because I have file cards of what scenes are to happen, but working through each one is taking several months. I’m hoping to get draft one finished by the end of the year. Really hoping to. Because next year there is a different plan in place.
I have had the idea in place for five years or so. It’s a story set during the cold war, and not speculative in any manner. I’ve sketched out the main sections to be written, and have been reading core material for the project. Once my book-cases are complete, and I’ve unpacked my extant research books I’ll look for the secondary and tertiary sources needed to provide background and atmosphere information. I’m not sure I have the chops to produce the book I intend, but I can produce the first draft.
And that’s enough about me. Before I go I want to big up G.V.Anderson. A while back I was lucky enough to critique a story for her. I can’t remember any suggestions I made, I’m sure they weren’t significant, but I remember the hell out of the story. I enthused about it to friends, and told them to look out for it at a pro-paying market. The story, Das Steingeschöpf, was published last December in Strange Horizons.
Then, it was nominated for a World Fantasy Award.
In a short while this talented writer will be on a plane, don a recently purchased frock, and sit nervously waiting to find out if the story has won the award. If it does, I for one won’t be surprised. Fingers crossed.
And that’s it for now.
Haven’t written anything new since entering the novella comp. I have tinkered with another couple of stories, one of which is now on hold for potential inclusion in the WotF annual anthology. That’s mighty exciting, Inclusion would grant me flights out to the annual week long writers workshop. Of course, that’s my Q1 entry. Q2 & Q3 are already in, and Q4’s entry is underway. I may yet gain entry as of right. I can hope.
Beyond that, what?
I was reminded recently that this is my hobby, not my career. Sure, I want a The Martian breakout, because of the financial security it would bring. But writing is not the most important thing in my life. Not close. I love it (well, kind of, curse it), but it’s not the most important thing I do, not close.
Which brings me back to turning off social media. No Twitter; No FB. This has been a shock. Realizing how much time I spend on the two, understanding the waste of time they have been for me, has been salutary. How distracting they have been from what is most important to me has been worrying. Some of my friends can use social media as the part time tool it can be. As a ‘hey, did ya’ see I did this?’ announcement system. Not me. So the step back continues. E-mail is now my default access route. Which means I have to be better with the blog.
I’ll see what I can do.
Fundamentally, it’s not important. Unless you make it so.
Reviewers. All comments welcome, just be willing to leave a review!
As I mentioned, in my last post, This United States -Volume I is now published.
But I really need some reviewers.
It’s 11 stories, its about 33k words.
As a reviewer I’m not looking for ‘Oh My Gunderwalt!, Give this guy a Pulitzer.’ Just honesty. If you read all eleven stories and didn’t enjoy them, give it a low rating and say what you didn’t enjoy. If you only love one story, say that in the review. But please, please, review it.
Now, to sweeten the pot, not only will anyone who responds to this post with a “Sure, I’ll give you a review” get a free .mobi or .epub version of the book, the first person will also get a subscription to Gamut, the new new-noir speculative publication that opens in January.
It’s not so much me begging (which I am) as using naked bribery. C’mon, have a read.
And while you do, I’ll carry on with NaNoWriMo. Which is madness. I wasn’t going to do it, having failed three times previously (though signing up last year, when I was moving 600 miles was stupid). Infant it was 18 hours into November before the madness struck. After 2 days, I’m on target!
The result will be a very rough first draft for Volume V of These United States. Yup, the last one will be a novel. It will follow the format of moving from state-to-state, which will make the story episodic in nature, beyond that I’m not 100% sure. The first episode is in Alaska, and there’s a mountain climbing accident. That’s all I know so far. There is already a steampunky element involved, though steampunk isn’t really the correct word. maybe it’ll become the hippypunk story I wanted to try a few years ago – if Stormville Epsilon D’vore becomes a character, it definitely will.
Beyond that, I’m still editing stories for an SF collection, and I have further stories set aside for a darker, gorier, collection. However, there is much editing to do. Some of these tales have significant flaws in structure. It’s the reason I’m doing NaNoWriMo, it’s a distraction/displacement activity to prevent me spending real thinking time on fixing the issues.
The reason for that is two-fold. 1) I’m a lazy oik who’d rather not think hard. 2) My ME is bad at the moment. I’m losing words mid-sentence, my arms feel like they have lead instead of muscle, ten hours of sleep leaves me needing another ten, my eyes look like I’ve spent three days partying and am auditioning for the role of Death in a remake of Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey.
That’s a reason though, not an excuse. So, I’d better get on and do it.
Oh, by the way, are any of you artists or graphic designers? Fancy having your work on the cover of a book? Money is an issue, but I promise we’ll come to arrangement where ‘exposure’ is not you’re only reward. Hit me up. I need two book fronts by the end of the year and, as you can see from These United States – Volume I, I’m no artist.
An auspicious day.
I pressed publish on my first collection of US state stories. Eleven obsessed over pieces of me presented to the world to be generally ignored (though ideally I’d like about 250,000 paying readers 😀 ).
These United States – Volume I will shortly be available on pretty much every major reading platform.
Naturally, there was a typo in the blurb (now corrected – thanks, Cheryl), and I’m sure I’ll have missed some in the text. Ho, as they say, hum.
Now I expected to be full of cheer and bravado on this, but all I have is trepidation and doubt. I was ready to press publish a couple of days ago, and couldn’t do it. I needed the time to reflect on what it means for me. This all makes it sound like I’m laying claim to deep meaningful work of immense importance in exploring the human condition, while one of the stories is about alien invasion, and another is about spies. But that doesn’t mean the stories don’t mean something to me. They represent hours of research, writing, editing, proofreading, and formatting. One of these stories was the catalyst for a recent relocation.
What I’m saying is, these are part of me. My worry is not about whether they are read, nor is it trepidation of poor or non-existent reviews. It is worry about letting them go instead of holding them close and continuing to gnaw them, like a troll with a femur in a dark hole.
We’ve been having a clearcut at home recently, moving out things which are liked, beloved even, but not used or useful in this house. There is an element of catharsis in such action and I hope to get the same from putting these eleven stories out there. It’s time to do new research, think new thoughts, explore new states, write new words. Volume I has been three or four years in the making. My aim for Volume II is four to six months (I have 3 stories ready).
Publishing has been done with Pronoun. What a joy! Getting a hang of the formatting interface would have been easier had I read the friendly tuition guides up front, but that’s on me. Everything has been provided. I really love the fact that the release will be done across Amazon, Apple IBooks, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, and Kobo. Whatever your device, you can get my book!
I look forward to building a nice virtual bookshelf of published works over the coming years.
Next up will be a collection of my SF stories, but there’s still a chunk of editing work to do there, so it might be December before that’s ready.
Lastly, if you would be willing to provide a review (good or bad, just the truth) then hit me up for an advance copy.
I’ve been here before.
That’s the title of today’s post, and a chunk of it will be about cycling. First, a primer of the situation at present. Team Sky are a professional cycling team. Formed a few years ago they were sold as the antithesis to the US Postal team which proven cheat Lance Armstrong cycled for. They would take the excellence of incremental enhancements which saw Team GB’s cycling team sweep all before them at an Olympic level, and add to it an avoidance of improprietous drug usage.
WOW! They were effective. Choosing riders for races, sacrificing well known names for the overall progress of the team. And they won the Tour de France. More than once. Awesome.
Then, because of the ban on a majority of Russian athletes being allowed to compete at the Rio Olympic games, a group of hackers set about looking for drug impropriety in other nations. To be fair, most of the releases have been nothing outstanding. But they did find details of the use of TUE’s by Team Sky riders, including Sir (now) Bradly Wiggins in 2001, 20012 (his Tour de France & Olympic time trial winning year) and, 2013. And today there is a story about a Team GB cycling flying an unidentified medical package from Britain to France. Begging the question of what medicine could not be obtained in France?
What’s a TUE? A Therapeutic Usage Exemption. It allows for a specified us of otherwise embargoed medication. And I want to be very clear here, we are talking about medication. this is not the days of Tommy Simpson where amphetamines, or la bomba, were in common usage. TUE’s are designed to allow an athlete to compete on a level playing field that would otherwise be impossible due to an underlying medical condition. Sir Bradley’s condition? Asthma. I have asthma (because I’m a fat chuffer), many people have asthma. Not many of us are Olympic gold, tour de France winning knights of the realm.
And that’s why today’s post is called ‘I’ve been here before’. Because I have. I was here when Lance Armstrong was accused of being dirty, and he stood and called out his accusers, sued his accusers, and was vindicated in court. Then he admitted to being the cheat he was accused of. Suddenly all those people who had been reviled by him and his defenders, who had been driven to the brink of ruin by him, who had been defrauded by him, were proven to be right, truthful, and honorable. I remember the evening Lance tweeted a picture of himself with his framed even Tour de France maillot jaune and a tag of ‘Just chilling’. The was after the USDA had produced their report detailing his cheating. I’d read the report, I was already convinced of his guilt (I didn’t need to see him admit it to Oprah) and was sickened by his blatantcy.
Now I’m seeing similar denials and prevarications. I’m parsing the words of other cyclists and hearing ‘yeh, I thought it was dodgy as hell’. It’s horrible.
If it’s true he should be stripped of all his awards and prizes. Team Sky are already shedding senior staff, they should be disbanded (which is gutting).
Going forward, all cyclist need to have an open blood passport (as should all professional athletes) and any TUE should be open. The current system requires, I believe, three separate doctors to sign off on its usage. That is robust, the only thing missing is transparency. Any request should be linked with the blood passport and extra blood testing for those using a TUE must be part of the process.
It’s the only way cycling (actually, road racing) can be revived and given credibility.
And that’s the end of part one, the cycling bit.
Next, I write you know!
And I’ve been here before. Or there, that is. Earlier this month I wrote about looking at my stock of written and part-written work, and then making a decision on how to move forward. I did this. I was surprised by what came forward.
Most of what I write is SF, to some extent. But I also have another passion project. Writing a story unique to each US state, along with a few stories about other areas unique to the US. I’ve spoken about getting the first volume out before, and not done it. But now it’s moving forward. My first 11 stories, about 37,000 words, are nearly ready. What do I mean by ready? Each story is as I want it to be. now I’m combing through for irritating typos, formatting for publication, ensuring that curly quotes are used throughout (instead of a mix of straight and curly quotes as was there at the start). I’ve got a couple of people signed on for beta reading, but would love some more.
Let me know.
Lastly on the theme of ‘I’ve been here before’ there was a problem blew up in the SF community last weekend. A well known writer was revealed as a manipulating, creepy, bastard. It keeps happening, not just in SF, but more than I want to see in a field I love and am involved in.
Can I ask a favor? Could men is SF stop being creepy bastards? It really isn’t all, or even a majority, but it’s enough to make things horrible. I really don’t care if you have strict views on what a person may or may not do, just don’t try to impose them on someone else. I don’t care if your writing is mono-colored, just stop demanding non-white people have no place in our non-real fiction writing field. I don’t care if you are a creep who believes women are beneath you, and that people are only useful if they can advance your career, just ,please, sod off and stop being a bastard round here.
I don’t want to be here again.