Been writing on and off since I was fifteen.  During the intervening years I’ve collected enough rejection slips to wallpaper a considerable sized house.

Notwithstanding, I’ve sold stories, and had enough work published in various mainstream and trade publications to justify the soubriquet ‘Writer’ but like so many others not enough to make a reasonable living.

The publishing industry is so closed down at present that it doesn’t seem worth submitting anything to the mainstream.  Everyone is looking for the ‘next Harry Potter’, yet considering there were nineteen publishers who turned down J K Rowlings work before she found one willing to take a risk with an unknown, I don’t think they’ll have much success. Especially when writers play tricks like submit the first three chapters of a literary classic under another title, and most publishers they submit to fail to recognise the ‘great’ prose in question. So I’m branching out on my own.  Down the slippery slope of self publishing.  Whoring myself out as best I can and hoping there are enough people out there who like my work to make it worthwhile.

The upside is two new 150,000 word volumes out of a trilogy, artwork as above, and I’ve gotten a solid invite to do a talk on ‘The Big What If’ and a five minute reading at Nanaimo District Museum 22nd October 2011 at 2pm. I’m way too late to put my name down for any of the big Sci-fi conventions this year, but will get my name out on the forums and see what happens. Trudge round book stores on the Island and sell my metaphorical soul. Walk and talk. At least I’m good at that. Although I am rather pleased with the cover art.

In some ways it feels terrifying to put the end result of five years work out in the public domain for just anyone to look over and sneer. In others, the same fear forces you to revise, revise, revise until you are either so tired of the project you really don’t care what anyone thinks any more, or the story you’re telling is really as good as you think it is. So far, my test readers only real criticism of the first volume has been “When’s the next one?”

The Sky Full of Stars, and Falling Through the Stars may not be Heinlein, Niven or Asimov, but I’m hoping they’ll find a readership. There’s a hardcover edition of each, but I think the only copies of those that will sell will be the proof editions for my personal book shelf.