Monthly Archives: January 2013

General musings, Observations

Norovirus; an unpleasant experience #norovirus


Half past ten. Think I’ve contracted a bout of the Norovirus bug that’s going around. Have just spent an intensely unpleasant three hours trying not to trip over the dog during repeated dashes to the bathroom.

Had been feeling mildly nauseous and vaguely out of sorts since about eight. The diarrhea kicked in about half past eight without any fever or noticeable aches and pains. Projectile (First time since I was about seventeen and very, very drunk indeed) vomiting began after the main bout of diarrhea came to a halt; following a mild case of stomach cramps like there was an elastic band around my stomach. Bout of vomiting came to an end with a sudden hot flush which passed within ten or fifteen minutes. Slightly gassy stomach in the aftermath. Pulse is thundering a little, but nothing dangerous, less than 110 and decreasing. Cramps have settled into the sensation of having a tightly knotted rope digging into my midriff.

Outlook is windy with occasional downpours.

Fortunately Angie and I have a bathroom each, which is just as well because mine now stinks despite air freshener, a shower, and a scrub down with disinfectant. Have taken the precaution of leaving a book and my reading glasses in there, because I have the feeling this is going to be a very long night.

Update: Six thirty am. Bad night with little sleep and multiple episodes. Angie has it too, so that’s both of us out of action.

Observations

What do you write when you can’t think of anything? #Writing


This is a question every aspiring writer asks, and unfortunately there’s no one good answer that suits everyone. There are all sorts of approaches from the staring at a blank sheet of paper to going out for a long walk, building a log cabin (Worked for Theroux) shopping, cooking, driving, running, jumping, swimming, fishing, bungee jumping, play games, arranging socks or some other displacement activity. Getting slobbering shitfaced drunk also seems to be a perennial favourite.

For myself, first move is to ‘head dump’. That is basically emptying out the garbage can of ideas into note form, and seeing if there’s anything that fits in with one of the projects I’m currently fiddling with. Sometime it works, sometimes there’s simply nothing worth recycling. If that doesn’t work, I’ll do some practical task like cooking which makes my hands and forebrain busy while the clever stuff goes on in my subconscious. There are times when simply overthinking a story builds up a massive logjam of worthless ideas choking the river of narrative. That’s when I get ruthless. I re read what I’ve already written, and junk anything that either doesn’t work, or detracts from the story I want to tell. Sometimes I’ll play games like killing off a character, just to see if that frees up a plot line. Anything to stir the sea of words into a storm to see if anything interesting gets washed up onto the beach from the deep subconscious.

Occasionally I’ll end up going off on a tangent, but mostly it seems to work.

Technology

Hashtags and social media for promotion #SelfPublishing


While looking around at cross-platforming my latest eBook and getting it listed by as many distribution outlets as possible, I came across a number of articles on Twitter Hashtags. This morning one dropped into my inbox from my LinkedIn membership; “100 Hashtags every writer should know”, and a quick browse brought up “Why use Hashtags?”. Also worth a peruse is “Why Hashtags fail”.

In isolation no article tells the whole story, but put together they’ve filled in important gaps in my knowledge. I’ve previously said that I suck at social media, but maybe by following the guidelines, there is a chance of becoming less sucky than before.

Technology

Popping the Kobo question


I’ve just submitted a question to the Kobo guys regarding getting existing ePub formatted titles with existing ISBN’s listed on the Kobo marketplace. I’m sure it’s not as complicated as it looks. It’s Friday, and I’m not expecting any kind of reply until at least midweek next week. About the same time the proof paperback of Head of the Beast drops onto my doormat. Should Kobo work out that makes three large market places with product placement.

Note to self: must check out the listings to make sure sufficient excerpts and tasters are available to sufficiently whet reading appetites. As soon as proof is okayed and listed on Amazon, I’ll cut and paste a taster on the Amazon page.

Money is tight right at the moment, and I’ve no spare cash to spend on marketing. So it’s head down and keep on punching keys, preparing product for release into the public domain. Keep the day job and keep throwing things at the wall. Something is bound to stick sooner or later. Although I’d rather it was sooner.

Cerberus

Head of the Beast now available for the Nook


Another day, another milestone. Head of the Beast featuring mind reading detective Paul Calvin is now available and listed for the Barnes and Noble Nook.

Two days off from the day job, and I’ll have an explore at getting it listed for the Kobo eBook reader. Just awaiting my proof copy of the paperback to approve for distribution on Amazon and the rest of the mainstream online booksellers.

Cerberus

Head of the Beast is on iBookstore


Am feeling very chipper right this moment. Head of the Beast is now available on iBookstore, although the only way anyone can access it is with an Apple mobile device, I don’t really care. The simple fact that it has successfully leapt all the right hoops for iPads and suchlike is more than enough for me. The Nook version will be ready shortly, as it is still listed as ‘pending’. Had a little celebratory punching of air, and treated myself to a Martini with a twist. Angie said she was ‘very proud’ of me. Nice to have something new in the marketplace. There’s always a little buzz about it.

At work last week, I’d just settled in to an evening shift when my boss walked into the room to introduce one of the new volunteers I’d be working with. Ellen made me laugh when she said to our new volunteer. “This is Martyn – he’s famous.”
“Oh, really?” Said the volunteer as I cracked up laughing.
“I write. I’ve got a new book out.” I explained. “This is the day job.” Then we all had another good laugh about it.

Famous? I think I’d settle for better sales figures, but quite frankly I’m not too worried.

As well as working on ‘A falling of Angels’ the next in the Cerberus series, I’ve just started a new project, which will probably get released as a freebie novella when I’m happy with it. The working title is a bit of a giveaway, but it’s set at the height of the ‘Association’ worlds timeline which follows on from the “Stars” trilogy when that morphs into the next series, which is only in fragmented note form at present, but has the working title “Earth’s Night”.

Language

Correct use of the “F-bomb”

4 Comments

I see on a lot of writers and publishers forums discussions of what is euphemistically called the “F-Bomb“. Some seem to feel that using this multi-purpose slang word is ‘bad writing’.

Excessive use is certainly poor practice. Although my feelings on the matter are that ‘bad writing’ is sometimes not using said swear word. If a character is one who swears, then they should swear properly, and not get all dainty mouthed about it. Spending any time in a male dominated environment means one is likely to hear the F – word used as adjective, verb, adverb, noun and in some ‘blue collar’ environments, punctuation and even pauses for breath. A character in any narrative is framed by their speech, and part of a writers job is to paint that picture with veracity. This whole self censorship thing detracts from the honesty of any fictional character and makes them less credible. This attitude comes across, to me at least, as teeth grindingly prissy, censorious and dishonest.

Conversely, it can be argued that ‘bad writing’ is excessive use of the aforementioned swear word, which is also true. My feelings? The trick is to use bad language appropriately.

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Events

That was the weekend that was in Vancouver…


Back to the keyboard and shift work again. An interesting weekend I think. If I’d have known what tickets we’d been given beforehand I’d have booked a hotel closer to the venue. Although the Metropolitan Hotel on Howe is very nice, and well worth another stay.

Watching Angie struggle with the Skytrain station stairs was hard (No lift or escalator available at Chinatown). It takes a full year to properly recover from a hip implant operation, and although Angie’s doing well on the flat, steps are still difficult for her. I found myself doing my ‘linebacker’ routine, carefully placing myself behind and to one side of her to prevent her delicate recovery being upset by someone in a hurry barging past with their brain in neutral. At this stage of the game I’m painfully aware of how disastrous a fall might be.

Still, we got to the Cirque Du Soleil venue, and finding we were early had to hang around in the cold for about forty minutes, where I introduced Angie to the concept of Smugshots (Posing in such a fashion that you look like you’re physically handling a far off object – kissing the Sphinx, holding the moon, that sort of thing).

Cirque du Soleil, Cirque du Soleil, what do I say about Amerluna at Vancouver? Okay guys, you have got to do something about your sardine like seating plan for the next show. Anyone over six feet tall and even slightly broad shouldered suffers. The last time I was anywhere near this level of discomfort was on a Thomas Cook flight (aka ‘Air Cattle Truck’) from Vancouver to Manchester in Summer 2010, and I swore never again to travel with that company. Sure, if you are under 5′ 10″ tall and slim to medium built, no problem. Anyone bigger is going to suffer cramps in the shoulders and knees which will make the show very much less enjoyable. Considering the price of tickets.

The acrobatics were spectacular, and for me the best part of the show were the antics of the Caliban like character with his prehensile tail. However, they could have left out the disjointed storyline, such as it was. I was left with the overwhelming impression the whole show had been written by a committee for the promotion of ‘diversity’. The narrative made no sense. In fact it rather got in the way of the spectacular performances. For individually they were brilliant. The music was good, the sets remarkable. Unfortunately there were pieces that didn’t fit, and took your mind off the already tenuous ‘story’. For example; in the second half, one gold costumed performer does an incredibly delicate balancing act with large fishbone like sticks, which was all very clever and skillful, but left me thinking; “Okay. What’s that got to do with the price of fish?” Likewise for the twins on unicycles. The promotional material makes much of the latest eco-panic, where some sources predict world water shortages for two thirds of the world’s population by 2025. How does having a six foot half globe of water centre stage relate to that? As for the 70% of the cast being a ‘feminist’ angle; again, so what?

This wasn’t just me; one person in the row in front was distinctly heard to paraphrase Macbeth as we were leaving. I distinctly overheard him say; “That was a tale told by idiots.” All around, I could hear the Canadian tradition of politeness being strained so hard it was creaking. For myself, I was glad to get out and stand at the interval, and would gladly have stood for the entire performance. In contrast to the lack of seating space, the concession prices were massively inflated. Nine dollars for a small plastic glass of distinctly average plonk? Fifteen dollars per show programme? a paperback copy of ‘Head of the Beast‘ isn’t that much more, and there’s a lot more reading in my work. Certainly makes me feel much better about print to order pricing.

Came out of the show, easing the kinks and cramp out of my shoulders to be impressed by the number of stretch limos on the streets outside the Lady Gaga gig at BC Place. We counted over twenty three. Not that I’m a Lady Gaga fan. All very well produced and glossy, but nothing to really write home about, musically speaking. All icing and no cake. Still, it shows where the money is going.

Overall verdict? A nice break, but I’m glad to be out of the big city, back home and working again. Although if I’m offered tickets for Cirque again, I think I’ll demur. Shows like these tempt me to quote 18th Century Lexicographer Samuel Johnson when asked about the Giants Causeway; “Worth seeing, yes; but not worth going to see.”

General musings

Vancouver for the weekend


Walking away from the keyboard for a couple of days while the eBook submission process grinds through for Head of the Beast. Off to see Cirque Du Soleil’s Amaluna in Vancouver tonight, and we’re making an overnighter of it.

In the meantime keeping my eyes and ears open. You never know what will kick off a good idea.

Cerberus, General musings, Memories

Ploughing on with the next volume


I’m pushing on with the next volume of the Cerberus series, specifically the fallout from a gangland killing from my opening of ‘A falling of Angels’. Getting a volume out in the public domain always leaves me with the need to do more. My attitude is, “Okay, that’s done. What’s next?”

As I was driving in to work, I was going through some of the ideas for ‘falling’, and have been taking a stroll down a rather shadowy memory lane. Well, not so much lane as dark alley. Drawing on my own brush with motorcycle gang culture, back in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Those three or four years were crazy days, and some of the people I rubbed shoulders with back then still provide me with useful material. Not that I’ll ever name names, times, dates and places.

Loyalties, once given, should not be withdrawn without serious provocation or penalty. That was the core of the code I lived by. Betrayal was considered the worst of crimes against your chosen peer group. The rule is that you don’t grass. Ever. What happens doesn’t get discussed outside your group. Exile or death are the penalties. Omerta rules. That was the zeitgeist, and I got to see it up close and personal, enough to understand it well. Observed in the flesh, without any rose tinting of glasses.

At the time I recall reading Hunter S Thompson’s “Hells Angels”, but the reality was never quite as he made it sound. Not that I ever had much first hand contact with real, full patch chapter members, although I had a nodding acquaintance with a couple. Some days were fun. A hell of a lot of fun. The parties were almost legendary. We got stoned, smoked and drank a lot. We built and rebuilt motorcycles. I got the reputation for being ‘mad’, although no-one would ever explain why. I was a positive pussycat compared to most of my contemporaries. Some of whom would beat up on people for a word out of place. Sometimes for no reason at all, just for the hell of it.

In the end I simply walked away from it and kept on walking, but the fascination of ‘the life’ as we referred to it back then, remains with me. The casual, almost blasé attitude to sex, violence and illicit substances, which I never really shared. The heavy metal music which sometimes still touches an amused nerve. The sheer camaraderie and non-judgmental brotherhood of it all. The two minor gang wars witnessed from the sidelines. Eighteen friends and boon companions dead in five short years to drunk driving, accident, one murder, and two suicides. You might say it got a little rough for a while.

A couple of decades ago I toyed with the idea of writing down my experiences, and planned a memoir with the working title “Black leather, red blood”, but in the end decided not to. Time has degraded my memory of the events, and after thirty plus years I don’t trust memory alone except for the broadest of brushstrokes. Most of my notes got burned or lost, and we all have to move on. Perhaps it’s better this way.

Cerberus

Another day, another rejection slip


Over three months after submission, Harper Voyager have finally said a polite ‘No, not our thing’. This was not unexpected, as if a publisher is interested, they’re usually first out of the trap to contact you. To be honest, I saw the missive header as it dropped into my inbox when I logged on, and my reaction was simply ‘Meh’.

In the past I’ve had varying degrees of reaction to rejections, from in my youth that my work is no good and never will be, to nowadays, when my critical skills are a bit more fine tuned, and my reactions more nuanced. It just means they’ve made a commercial decision that it wasn’t right for their marketplace. Wherever that may be. I’d already come to that conclusion, and am moving on, not taking it personally, and generally getting on with life, when previously I’ve curled into a hypersensitive ball to cry. Maybe I’m developing a thick skin in my dotage.

‘Head of the Beast’ is in print and eBook already in self publish format. If I could bring the price down further, I would. However, having spent several years on the project already, I’m not inclined to give my stuff away. The eBook is just over five bucks with tax, or three pounds forty nine in pounds sterling, which I think is fair. The paperback and hardbacks unfortunately are more expensive, but that’s the price of print to order services. I don’t make much more than a buck fifty royalty per item.

Harper vector may not like what I sent them, but honestly speaking, I’ve made a number of revisions since I first submitted the draft manuscript to them, tightened up the prose, and the end result has merit. How much so, is, like so many other things, purely a matter of opinion. Mine may be biased in my favour, which is hardly a surprise.

Cerberus

Head of the Beast now in print


While Angie was watching various episodes of Miss Marple on NetFlix, the later Geraldine McEwan versions with half the current crop of British character actors in the cast, I was checking and setting up files for publication. After six years of development, I’ve finally decided to put the first episode into the public domain. Hopefully the eBook will be ready for download in ePub format by lunchtime tomorrow.

I’ve decided to go with a plain black cover with white lettering in a courier like font called ‘Chandler42’. The overall effect is quite striking. It also saves time messing around with designs that might end up a bit too blurry at the edges, or even fussy. I’m not a photoshop guru. My skill lies in words. First Edition Paperback is here.

Anyway, that’s enough for one night. I’m too tired and it’s time for bed.

Update lunchtime Monday 7th January; The eBook is now up and running. I got the eBook formatting right this time (fingers crossed) Links will be available on the ‘Published works’ page shortly.

Cerberus

Head of the Beast cover notes


I’ve been wondering about what wording I should use as cover blurb for Head of the Beast, first of the Paul Calvin Novels. After much spirited debate with my muse (Angie, my Wife), we agreed on the following:

“The living shouldn’t talk to the dead. We say too much and know too little.” Runs the gospel according to Nick Calvin, ex Uniform Police Inspector.

The problem is, Nick Calvin has been dead for over seven years. Killed in the line of duty.

The other problem is, his son Paul can now hear him quite clearly. Paul can also hear a lot of other dead people, as well as the thoughts of the living. Having your brain rebuilt by a genius in neural stem cell technology can do that to a man. Which should turn him into some kind of super hero. Only he’s neither super nor hero.

Yet his abilities push him into the very front line against an evil plot. One which threatens to spread mayhem and bloody destruction all through the streets of London. He is also now squarely in the sights of a ruthless Swiss consortium, with designs on the impossible to replicate technology between his ears.

With his wife about to divorce him, and professional disgrace in the offing, this is not how Paul saw his life as a career police officer turning out.

Head of the Beast is the first of the bleakly near – comic tales from the Cerberus Conspiracy series of science fantasy novels.

I think it’s got legs. I really do.

Cerberus

That’s about as much as I’m doing with that one…..


Head of the Beast will be available as soon as I’ve got cover art that I’m happy with. The Header issue has proved insurmountable, and may actually interfere with eBook conversion, so I’ve ditched the headers. The page footers and numbering work fine, with none of the unwelcome surprises upon reopening the document after saving or conversion. 188 172 action and horror packed pages laying the groundwork for the next in the series on the most recent reformat.

First Edition Hardback will be ready in a week, and I’m tempted to go for a plain, textured look for the dust cover. Just authors name and title, with a little blurb and text sample on the back. Paperback edition will follow the same route, and I’ll double check the eBook requirements before submitting to iTunes, Barnes and Noble etc.

All this formatting practice is telling me the limitations of OpenOffice and its weak points, so I can concentrate on the story in future, and not waste so much time on what I feel are purely cosmetic issues.