Category Archives: General musings

General musings on life, the Universe and how stuff works

General musings, Technology

New site page


Working on the next volume in the Stars trilogy, I’m also currently adding to this web site. The latest addition is an overview page for ‘The Sky full of Stars’, which is the first volume in the series. At over 150,000 words it’s a weighty read, and probably overlong, but it tells the tale I wanted to tell. Another overview page for ‘Falling through the stars’ is also now up.

Over the weekend, Angie and I had a long talk about what was happening in our relationship, and how the frustrations of the past two years have been wearing me down emotionally. Angie, being the wise and wonderful woman that she is, agreed with me on a partial solution. A seventy pound punchbag. Below are pictures of punchbag after hauling it up two flights of stairs, and rigged ready for use. I only use the outdoors lash up when it’s dry, and haul it in after each and every use, which in itself is good exercise, and I feel better than after trying to run. Running is bad for my injured left knee, and thumping a punchbag lets me work up a quick and dirty sweat without putting too much strain on my knees old rugby sustained injury.

As you can see, all this pent up violence has my poor dog terrified.
We’ve also booked a much needed spa break over Christmas. We both need it.

General musings

Nice to know I’m appreciated


Came back from late shift last night to find the following little missive on my laptop. Angie had been up and around, exercising her new hip, and decided that I needed a little morale boost.

Still not got the oomph back to get to the keyboard in earnest, but it’s nice to know all the other things I do are appreciated.

General musings

A rough year


Just finished my shift yesterday, and was having a talk with my work buddy, who, when I spoke about the latest developments in my life, vouchsafed; “You’ve had a rough year.”

In real terms I’m sure other people have had it far worse, but for me life has been a bit of a ride these past two years. What with the death of a close friend, playing unhappy host to visiting high dependency family. Angies first hip replacement. The struggle to finish the second volume of the Stars trilogy. Angies second hip and all the internal agony of watching her in pain for so long. Running her errands, washing and grooming while she’s fresh out of hospital. Housework. The infernal grinding effort to keep the family budget balanced when I’m not making much. Never more than pennies for myself. At times like these, Larkins adage “Life is slow dying” seems more than appropriate.

Today, how tired I truly feel hit me like a rock in the face. All the coffee in the world doesn’t seem to help. Angie thinks I need a ‘project’. I think she’s bored as all get out. We need a time out.

On the other hand, not all is darkness. I’ve amused myself watching the antics of our local colony of Rufous Hummingbirds. I’ve reloaded the feeder and seeing as they stay year round at our location, will keep it topped up throughout the late Fall and Winter. They’re elusive little tinkers to photograph with the Camera I’ve got, and so far all I have are the relative low-res images below:

There is a truth in all the above. Nothing lasts, and all bad things pass eventually. I remain guardedly optimistic for the future. Now I must make tea.

General musings

The missing Cerberus story


Experimental Artwork for “On Bridges’ Burning” Cover
By George I think I’ve got it! The missing volume from the Cerberus story arc. I knew there was something missing, but I’ve got enough notes for plot and storyline, and this is the result. I think I’ll leave ‘Shifting States’ as the last of the series. It has that apocryphal end of an era feel about the story. Bad guys confronted, demons rescued from savage maidens, final denouement and all that racy stuff.

Angie thinks the image is a bit strange because iron bridges don’t burn and the flames are the wrong size. I think it’s a piece of slightly surreal cover art. Overall, not bad, but I’ll leave it up until a better idea comes along.

General musings

Workspace


I’ve finally been able to amaze my wife. Angie tends to think I’m an untidy individual who needs ‘training’, so I thought I’d surprise her by showing off my new workspace. Excuse the cardboard at the back, but I intend to replace that tomorrow with a suitably sized piece of something so that I’m not looking at dangling cables every time I look up.

Experimental artwork now has its own page. Two examples of which can be seen on the left hand pinboard. Angie is stunned. Dog can hide under my desk without getting under my feet every time I try to turn around. Mission accomplished.

How long it will stay this tidy is anybody’s guess.

General musings

Lessons learned


Yesterday has kind of gelled my thoughts over my direction in marketing my work. With several avenues of marketing and distribution closed to me, I have to work smarter, not harder.

A long, rambling conversation with Kenn about physics and the nature of matter, and a diversion off into the wilds of Dan Brown has led me to several conclusions. Science Fiction is a niche market. The demographic of book fairs, being by my observation predominantly older female, is wrong for it. The sales demographic for Science fiction as a genre is predominantly young male. Sci-fi conventions are a far better venue for showcasing. Astronomy days. Computer fairs. Any slightly geeky event.

Yesterday I needed to make $100 profit to cover costs of transport, ferries, gas, and food. Sales, zero. Therefore profit zip. Economically the day was a total loss. Yet I learned my lesson. There are places not to go, with people who have an opposed mindset. Do not go there. P J O’Rourke’s observations on book signings in Malls apply here. A writer’s place is at his or her keyboard unless they are a ‘name’.

The day was not a success, but out of it I am developing a cunning plan. So cunning, that if there was a Nobel Prize for cunning and subterfuge, it would have banked the prize money before the prize awarding committee knew the cheque had been written.

We rise by our mistakes because they tell us where not to waste our energies.

General musings

Scam calls


About twice a week I get a phone call from an out of Canada number, and a heavily accented voice tells me they are calling “About your Windows Computer”. These calls annoy me because they are made by confidence tricksters, scam artists and liars who want to invade my writing time with their falsehoods.

At first I used to simply shut the call off with a snarled “Fuck off” but now I’m becoming more nuanced in my response.

One of my favourite tricks is to put the cordless handset back on its charging station and wander off to make a cup of tea, stare out at the weather, switch on the TV while the poor drone on the other end of the line witters on and on. I reason thus; if I can waste enough of their time, it will give the scam artists less time to find more gullible people, and thence I perform a valuable social service. Fewer people get conned because there are only so many hours in the phoning day. Unfortunately, the more savvy realise I’ve disappeared, and close the call to dial the next number, who may not be as cynical as myself.

My next line of response is more sophisticated, and relies on the ignorance of the phone drone making the scam call. “My Windows Computer? Oh, the thing I use for word processing?” Is my response. Let them witter on having placed the phone back on its cradle in hands free mode, and tell them I have an Imperial Safari word processor with manual keyboard and real time printer array. An old fashioned manual typewriter. Pre 1980. Having had one of the aforementioned back in the 1980’s, I’m qualified to do what my wife calls ‘going into full bullshit mode’ on this topic. You needed to hit the keys with some vigour to make an imprint of a carbon flimsy, but it was robust, and I must have rattled off over 100,000 words on it until it was passed on within the family, and I moved on to working with a word processor.

Regardless, next time one of these scammers calls, they might not be dazzled by my brilliance or lack thereof, but I’ll sure as hell baffle them with bullshit. I will waste their time and phone bill, which may be the only justice one can ever get when dealing with these bastards.

Highlight of this morning was getting namechecked by Wattsupwiththat.com for tipping them off about this story.

General musings

We have a Go


Surrey book fair is a ‘Go’ situation. Have just arranged ferries and who pays for what with neighbour and fellow writer Kenn Joubert. My name is on the book fairs web site, but there’s just one issue; very few books to sell. I have three copies of ‘Falling through the stars’ left as stock, and too little time to order new copies, postal delivery times being what they are this side of the Straits of Georgia. So if anyone has a copy of ‘Sky’ (I know this is highly unlikely, sales being what they have been) they’ll have to bring it along for signing.

I shall be at the book fair, on display, between 5:30pm and 7pm Saturday 20th October. Possibly writing, possibly using the hotels free Wi-Fi for e-mail or playing games. Who knows, I may even get to talk to someone about what I do. What is certain is that I won’t turn a profit on the day, but I’m not really bothered. As far as I’m concerned the whole event is a learning experience. It’s a day out.

Kenn tells me he was once on the 600 strong shortlist of potential Canadian Astronauts, and has his own ideas about what sort of science fiction should be on TV. Should prove an interesting day next Saturday.

General musings

Good, and not so good news


Phoned my mother across the time zones at lunchtime PST, which is eight hours away in England. Nice to hear her voice every so often.

She tells me that as a grand dame of 96 she is finally getting online via broadband in the small Warwickshire village where she lives. I hope the information overload doesn’t get to her. No more letters, as we will probably be talking via Skype in the near future. I’ll give her a ring, walk her through the installation and sign up procedure, and bingo! Video calls. We talk to Angie’s side of the clan regularly via Skype, which has been an absolute godsend as far as communication goes. Especially as my brother and sister in law have just emigrated to Australia. The only issue is time difference.

There was the sad revelation that an Aunt I barely knew died two weeks ago. Should I go into mourning? I don’t think so because I hardly know anyone from that side of my Mothers clan. Out of my three maternal aunts, she was the last. So now I am Aunt-less. Loads of cousins, second and third cousins, but no aunts.

I feel no sense of loss because I hardly knew her, and getting upset over the death of a virtual stranger, even though I am closely blood related, does not touch me. To say it did might indicate a strain of hypocrisy, a sense of false mourning that is not yours by right. While the news is sobering, I cannot get worked up about it. We had no real connection and haven’t really heard from them much since I was small. Especially as relations between my mother and that specific part of our extended family have been less than cordial for several decades. All you really feel is “Oh. Right.” Nothing you can do about it, and the world keeps turning anyway. Is that too cynical? I don’t know.

No news as yet from Harper Vector, although I’m not really expecting anything. It was a shot in the dark as all these things are, and if they don’t like the Paul Calvin stories I’ll just take the first draft, polish it up a bit and punt it out onto Amazon myself. Nothing ventured as they say. Then I’ll finish ‘Darkness’ for Fan Expo in April 2013 and get that out there. See what happens. Keep on flinging enough stuff at the wall, and something is bound to stick.

General musings

The long wait


Anyone who writes is familiar with ‘the long wait’ of up to three months while publishers shunt your missive into a queue before saying “Not what we’re looking for right now” or “We don’t see a market for this” or even three months of dead silence and no reply at whatsoever. Which is what so often happens.

This long wait can take a terrible toll on young hopefuls, especially when the entry points to the world of grown up publishing are so limited. Most publishers won’t even look at new writers without an agent. Hence my enthusiasm for this Harper Vector opening, because finding an Agent; well, to be honest I’d given up looking some time ago.

What the hell. I have three days off. I need them, because at four this afternoon my get up and go, went. I know not where. I finally hit my own personal wall with a fairly hefty thud. Almost three weeks without a break working from six am to midnight is enough to wear anyone down. On the plus side, I did get to see a lot of nice sunrises. A couple of days out and off are required.

Now I am off to make friends with a bottle of Bushmills. The keyboard can wait.

General musings

Another loss


Neil Armstrong, astronaut, one of my boyhood heroes is gone. Complications after bypass surgery so we’re told, but at the end of a remarkable life. One of only 12 people to ever set foot on another world. First man to set foot on the moon, test pilot, engineer and old fashioned hero.

This has saddened me deeply. I don’t feel much like writing today. Just editing, proofing and fact checking. That and an evening shift at work.

Angie is talking about a couple of days in Kelowna wine country and I’m inclined to go and leave the keyboard behind, although that might prove a little bit too much of a wrench. The first Cerberus novella is looking great, and Darkness is taking shape nicely. Must say I’m looking forward to completing the trilogy, as Stars is the result of eight years work so far. Eight bloody years. I could have done medical school or learned to play the saxophone, or perhaps not. You do what you do and that’s that.

Now stepping away from the keyboard. I need a break. A proper break.

General musings

Drama, doubled


Like most people who write, I have a day job. Not highly paid or high flying, but a job nonetheless. Mostly all the drama contained therein can be dealt with without too much ado. Keep your head, stick to the procedure, and ensure you have done your bit properly. Today, just as I’d logged on at my workstation, my cell phone rang; Angie was immobilised and concerned that her artificial hip joint had broken or dislocated. From the tone of her voice, she was obviously in a lot of pain. I rang her Orthopaedic surgeons office and they recommended she go straight to emergency.

Today must have been the shortest shift I have ever worked. About two minutes and sixty seconds to be precise. Knowing my two work buddies had been earwigging on my cell call I said; “Sorry about this guys, but I have to bug out. Angie’s hurt and I have to get her to emergency.”
To which the answer was a simple “Go Martyn, just go.” Bless their cotton socks. Even if it does cost me a shift’s pay. Family is more important.

Ran headlong down the back stairs and remotely popped the car door just as I shouldered the basement exit door open. After leaping into the driving seat and gunning our little Subaru’s engine, I cussed and fumed at every daydreaming driver in front of me on the way home. Glorious, blazingly sunny day, but I was on a mission, with no time for sunshine, lollygaggers, or the directionally challenged.

When I got home, Angie was sitting on her work chair looking slightly pained, with Joanna sitting on the bed, trying to keep her Mother’s spirits up. My dog, Amos, thought it was a great game and Jo, bless her, held him by the collar while Angie wrapped her arms around my shoulders and I half piggybacked, half guided her down stairs, while she tried not to panic about falling. My dearly beloved is no lightweight, and I haven’t done any weight training for years, so I hung on to bannisters and uprights firmly with one hand while pulling down on her left arm to ensure she didn’t let go of my shoulders, just to take her weight off the afflicted hip. Managed to stagger the twelve paces or so to the car in this fashion and gently swung her into the passenger seat. Thence followed a brisk but fairly uneventful twenty kilometre drive to the hospital.

A note about Emergency rooms, everywhere. Unless you arrive in an ambulance, you immediately become a ‘not so serious’ case, taking second place in the queue. Fortunately it was a quiet morning, apart from one poor chap who was groaning like one of Torquemada’s tormented in a nearby treatment side room. Whatever they were doing to him, he wasn’t enjoying it one little bit. We borrowed one of the shopping trolley like wheelchairs, and squeaked and rattled Angie into Emergency. Second in the queue, we were admitted in jig time. Then settled in to wait our turn.

It is written that “They also serve, who only stand and wait.” and this goes triple for Hospital Emergency departments all over the world. After three hours quietly talking and holding my wife’s hand in the bland walled alcove marked Triage #2, the Emergency Physician got time to see her, and half an hour later Angie was wheeled into X-Ray by a blonde haired trainee technician who looked no more than sixteen, but acted with the friendly professionalism of someone ten years older. While Angie was having her however many micro-sieverts worth, I busied myself with a few story notes, tried not to chew my fingernails, buying a cup of coffee which I never drank.

Half an hour later Angie was wheeled out of X-ray to be dispatched back to Emergency by a solid looking lady who had to take her instructions via a heavily padded looking mobile phone device. I looked at the device and wondered idly how many times it had been thrown across a room. Which was probably the reason it was so tough looking. She pushed Angie’s wheeled treatment bed back to Triage #2 where the physician returned, and after a modicum of judicious prodding and joint manipulation, pronounced Angie’s artificial joint still sound, leaving us with the diagnosis that she had probably only suffered a groin strain. Which was a relief. Ten minutes later, I’m supporting Angie on a short controlled stumble back to the car, and thence home after a couple of minor shopping errands.

As kind of a finale to the days alarums and diversions, we pulled into the front yard to see our landlord, Mark, lying on a blanket and cushion in the shade of the house, ankle bound up in a splint after taking a tumble at work. Did the decent thing and offered to make him up an ice pack, but he said he’d got plenty of ice and could do it himself. The man is a trooper.

Amos, my pet trip hazard, dashed out as soon as the door was opened and fussed everyone, but calmed down after his scheduled feed. He’s a gorgeous dog, lovely temperament, but no brain whatsoever. Just a big old excitable puppy. A Black, brown and white bundle of fruit and nutcase. Wouldn’t have him any other way.

Angie dug into her painkiller supply and, Ibuprofen comforted, settled into a few Learning Consultant tasks. Jo is on her final work shift before going back to the UK on Sunday, and I cooked chicken legs and prepared a salad. Sunset is painting the cliffs opposite a pleasing shade of stony pink. Angie is phoning an old friend to tell her about today’s misadventures. I have settled down with a large whiskey and want no more surprises. At least until tomorrow.

What can I say? It’s been a day.

General musings

Martian Curiosity


It’s down and transmitting. The aptly named Curiosity rover is down on Mars. Right on time and bang on target. Made me think about the heady days of the first manned moon landings back in 1969. I was only 11, but I watched them happen, and it planted my love of science fiction deep within me.

After all the excitement I sat up to see if I could see any early Perseid meteors, only to wake up at half past six with the sun in my face, having missed going to bed.

There are people who say the Moon landings were faked, but they never listen to anything outside the tiny echo chambers in their heads. I was there and saw it happen. I’ve seen faked coverage, and can tell the difference. Likewise, there was no fakery here. What would be the point of such a hugely expensive exercise, if not to explore?

Still think manned Mars landings are at least twenty years away. Mainly because there are too many political and economic issues. The technical stuff by comparison is relatively simple, but the politics? Now that’s complicated. Kennedy set out a clear vision for NASA back in 1961. Just over nine years later, Armstrong and Aldrin put boots on the regolith of the moon. Now the mission motivation is unclear. There is no clear driving vision like in the sixties. If I see a successful manned mars landing happen in my lifetime, I won’t be unhappy, but if not, I won’t be surprised.

General musings

Incredible


View from the ISS at Night from Knate Myers on Vimeo.

The work of Knate Myers.  Simply gorgeous. Watch it full screen