Netflix’s effort to create a live-action adaption of the Japanese Manga series Death Note (first serialised in magazine form and later as anime and then live-action television) is overall disappointing.
I dislike when the conception of a character changes, so in that regard would like the opportunity to see the live-action film released in Japan in 2006/8, and while the relocation might call for altered nationalities, I would have preferred a cast reflecting the original personas more. Not that there is anything wrong with the performances of the actors giving the story line and the limited time to execute it — and there lies the real problem, as I will explain further on.
It's sad the cast does their best with limited material. In this revamp, Nat Wolff fits the lead role of Light (Yagami), and Margaret Qualley the lead female, Mia — a necessary change for the better. The anime characteristics of the earlier ‘Misa’ (who is erratic and immature) would never fully translate to a western culture. She was the most irritating female protagonist/antagonist (she reflects both at various times in the plot) I’ve seen in a long time.
In particular, although Lakeith Stanfield did a good job of perfecting the glances and mannerisms of ‘L’ the character dissolves into volatile instability in a way the original ‘L’ (Ryuzaki) never did, and it’s a shame they took his personality in that direction.
Ryuzaki’s story in the anime was expected and logical but no less onerous for all that and ‘L’ remains for me the most compelling character of the whole series and concept so I would have liked to see everything about the adaption more fledged. The interplay between Light and Ryuzaki is lacking in the Netflix edition, which at heart is not in any way captivating, or inspiring conviction.
The best thing may well be Ryuk as voiced by Willem Defoe, but I was sorry the whole mythology of the Shinigami wasn’t explained to the uninitiated, and the skilful twists of the plot compacted to such a momentary suggestion of the source material. I’ve read criticism that the film feels rushed and I wholeheartedly agree. The sheer haste of execution means none of the sub-text is examined and barely disclosed. I recommend checking out the anime series though for a serial running for 37 episodes it requires commitment.
Writer of Dark Fiction
Monday, September 04, 2017
Monday, August 14, 2017
Experience something bitter, something intoxicating
2011? How was this 2011? Seems like yesterday and still one of my favourite stories because I got the writing and story just as I wanted. Thinking of including it in a collection.
I also remember sshhhing the husband while putting on the final polish. My inspiration was the title of the anthology and the 'Green Muse' painting by French history painter and illustrator, Albert Pierre René Maignan.
Émile beheld the rough lines of age and labour in the hand before him. The network of passing years bisected by a scar and punctuated by torn cuticles threatened to entrap him in a labyrinth of wanting. If only he could capture the essence of that hand, the person it belonged to, in a drawing.
I also remember sshhhing the husband while putting on the final polish. My inspiration was the title of the anthology and the 'Green Muse' painting by French history painter and illustrator, Albert Pierre René Maignan.
***
Bitter and Intoxicating
Monday, August 07, 2017
Where the Spirit of the Wolf and the Fox meet
That is in my short story 'The Wolf Moon' and 'Fox Spirit' books in their anthology 'Winter Tales', which appeared early 2016. When I saw the submission call, I instantly knew which story to send. 'The Wolf Moon' is one of a body of work, thirteen short tales based around a theme, equally possible to read independently (I've published more than one with magazines), but would make an eerie collection. Fox Spirit was the perfect match for 'The Wolf Moon' one of the last written in an project that's taken me a few years from conception to completion.
Shortlisted for the Best Indie Press twice by the British Fantasy Society, Fox Spirit's mission statement summarises the belief that day to day life lacks a number of things, namely the fantastic, the magical, mischievous and a touch of the horrific. They aim to produce books 'full of wonder and mischief delivered with a sharp bite'. My short story definitely applies and I couldn't ask for a better springboard for a 'Kernow' tale.
Diana may or may not be a hunter, but Gabriel is no angel.
Excerpt:
Minutes ticked by, the hush fragmented by whispers. The door creaked open, muzzling free expression. Diana became aware of a large presence, prodigious in stature, colossal in self-possession. The longing to look was almost too much for her, made more difficult by other people’s reactions. The tide parted, made way for the newcomer even if that meant they must move closer to her.
Carver suddenly had a dilemma. He stopped in mid-flow on his way to her, gaze darting from the man standing in front of him and down to the end where Diana stood controlling the urge to smirk. He compromised—shoved her goods into the hands of his helper, nodded to the new arrival, and hurried out back to get whatever he’d come for. Diana took her time placing the items in her basket, although there were only two, and only the small sack of flour was cumbersome. As she turned to leave she tried to make the act of lifting her head look natural, the direction of her gaze an accident or coincidence.
See me.
By wish or bewitchment, he did. Man and woman gazed at each other. She saw blue eyes so bright as to illuminate the darkness like moonlight, a head of shaggy peppered hair, dark stubble along a strong jaw, and muscle. Hunter and hunted. Diana suppressed a shudder.
Without pause, she completed the turn and headed to the door. Remarks followed.
‘Witch,’ one woman said, following up her pronouncement with spittle. Diana smirked at the thought of Carver having to wash the floor, ignored her, and enjoyed the woman’s confusion.
‘Those raised by wolves should stay in the wild,’ another said. Diana agreed and breathed in relief as the cold of the day held out its welcoming arms. She plunged into snow and freedom.
Shortlisted for the Best Indie Press twice by the British Fantasy Society, Fox Spirit's mission statement summarises the belief that day to day life lacks a number of things, namely the fantastic, the magical, mischievous and a touch of the horrific. They aim to produce books 'full of wonder and mischief delivered with a sharp bite'. My short story definitely applies and I couldn't ask for a better springboard for a 'Kernow' tale.
Diana may or may not be a hunter, but Gabriel is no angel.
Excerpt:
Minutes ticked by, the hush fragmented by whispers. The door creaked open, muzzling free expression. Diana became aware of a large presence, prodigious in stature, colossal in self-possession. The longing to look was almost too much for her, made more difficult by other people’s reactions. The tide parted, made way for the newcomer even if that meant they must move closer to her.
Carver suddenly had a dilemma. He stopped in mid-flow on his way to her, gaze darting from the man standing in front of him and down to the end where Diana stood controlling the urge to smirk. He compromised—shoved her goods into the hands of his helper, nodded to the new arrival, and hurried out back to get whatever he’d come for. Diana took her time placing the items in her basket, although there were only two, and only the small sack of flour was cumbersome. As she turned to leave she tried to make the act of lifting her head look natural, the direction of her gaze an accident or coincidence.
See me.
By wish or bewitchment, he did. Man and woman gazed at each other. She saw blue eyes so bright as to illuminate the darkness like moonlight, a head of shaggy peppered hair, dark stubble along a strong jaw, and muscle. Hunter and hunted. Diana suppressed a shudder.
Without pause, she completed the turn and headed to the door. Remarks followed.
‘Witch,’ one woman said, following up her pronouncement with spittle. Diana smirked at the thought of Carver having to wash the floor, ignored her, and enjoyed the woman’s confusion.
‘Those raised by wolves should stay in the wild,’ another said. Diana agreed and breathed in relief as the cold of the day held out its welcoming arms. She plunged into snow and freedom.
***
Frost pierces through everything. Your bones ache in the icy wind.
Harsh winter storms rage and the sun is leaving, not to return for many
months. The cheerful men arriving to the mountain bothy in the midst of
the winter storm, why do they unnerve you so much? The hunter who
follows after you on your way home from the store, what does he hunt?
The old neighbour lady seems so innocent, but you know the truth: you
saw her that night. Why will the police not listen to you?
Dark, grim, beautiful and grotesque. We are delighted to bring you a collection of speculative winter stories and poems from new and established writers. The collection is edited by Margret Helgadottir. Winter Tales released early 2016 from Fox Spirit Books.
Cover art is by S.L. Johnson
Monday, July 24, 2017
Not so lovable Groot
Guardians of the Galaxy is one of my favourite films. While I didn't adore the second installment, I still found much to enjoy, but the trouble with any follow-up is the level of expectation and the pressure to surpass that first experience. It's a problem every creative person understands too well.
That's not the subject of this post. Most of us love Groot, but did you know he wasn't always the adorable character you may think you know and love?
That's not the subject of this post. Most of us love Groot, but did you know he wasn't always the adorable character you may think you know and love?
Monday, June 26, 2017
Bad Sex Award
Many have heard of the yearly Bad Sex in Fiction Award, which has been going since 1993 -- the purpose to 'honour' an author for producing an 'outstandingly' bad sexual scene in what might otherwise be an excellent novel. The prize doesn't include erotic fiction and mainly exists to throw light on often unnecessary sections of sex given a superficial treatment.
This is part of an old post where I drew attention to the 17th Annual Bad Sex in Fiction Award that went to author Jonathan Littell for some hilarious passages in his novel The Kindly Ones. However, some of the sentences aren't as good/bad as they've been in some years and this is a translation from the French, which can affect some meanings. It's also difficult judging for oneself when reading these lines out of context. Read more on the book and the award at BBC News.
Cringe worthy? Spiteful? Personally, I think it would be a fun award to win and, as they say, any publicity is good, although I'm not sure that's always entirely true.
However, this I wish to put forward my own contender/winner even though it's for a book published some years ago:
"She kept a secret spring surrounded by sweet moss, and there he was refreshed."
And the winner is...
Stephen King for this line in his 5th Dark Tower novel 'Wolves of the Calla'. It does read slightly better in context but made me roar with laughter so unless that was his intention (and even if it was) this has got to be a dodgy euphemism if ever I heard one. Otherwise, I love the Dark Tower series and finally got to read the whole series in one sitting. I love the character of Roland but my hero is Eddie.
I'm going to keep the award in mind when constructing such sentences.
This is part of an old post where I drew attention to the 17th Annual Bad Sex in Fiction Award that went to author Jonathan Littell for some hilarious passages in his novel The Kindly Ones. However, some of the sentences aren't as good/bad as they've been in some years and this is a translation from the French, which can affect some meanings. It's also difficult judging for oneself when reading these lines out of context. Read more on the book and the award at BBC News.
Cringe worthy? Spiteful? Personally, I think it would be a fun award to win and, as they say, any publicity is good, although I'm not sure that's always entirely true.
However, this I wish to put forward my own contender/winner even though it's for a book published some years ago:
"She kept a secret spring surrounded by sweet moss, and there he was refreshed."
And the winner is...
Stephen King for this line in his 5th Dark Tower novel 'Wolves of the Calla'. It does read slightly better in context but made me roar with laughter so unless that was his intention (and even if it was) this has got to be a dodgy euphemism if ever I heard one. Otherwise, I love the Dark Tower series and finally got to read the whole series in one sitting. I love the character of Roland but my hero is Eddie.
I'm going to keep the award in mind when constructing such sentences.
Monday, June 19, 2017
A Life Lesson Learned
I’ve had more than one run-in with ‘celebrity’, but this incident was my first. A few years ago I was working in an office and answered the phone. When I realised with whom I was speaking, I experienced a ‘gulp’ moment where time slowed enough for ‘I really don’t want to be dealing with this’ to pass through my mind. I had heard enough ‘rumours’ to square my shoulders and straighten my spine, preparing for a not-very-nice-guy. Still, I am, if nothing else, generous, prepared to give anyone the benefit of the proverbial doubt...in this particular instance short lived. The moment of good grace passed with the first words to come out of his mouth, the ‘conversation’ something like this:
“Get ****** *******.”
“I’m sorry, she’s not at her desk right...”
“I want to speak to her.”
“... now. Maybe I can help, or take a message?”
“I am ******* **** so Go.Get.Her.Right.Nowwwwww.”
My cognitive reasoning instantly translated this to: “I’m a toffee-nosed blowhole who expects the world to bow instantly to my every whim. I’m so full of my own self-importance, I kiss my reflection first thing in the morning and last thing at night because no one else is good enough to kiss me, at all...except maybe my feet, when they are down there grovelling.”
I went to fetch the person in question (the toilet of all places) because it was my job and because, unfortunately, she was the other side of a similar coin. They deserved working together. She had the art of obsequiousness down pat when it served. Alas, in the real world, people management escaped her skillset.
“You got the photocopying done?” she asked one morning, staring at the pile in my arms. “You got it done ‘today’?”
“Yes,” I replied, somewhat puzzled.
“However did you manage that? ***** never does the photocopying for me that quickly. She sometimes makes me wait days.”
To clarify, some offices have had a photocopying departments, particularly if a lot of duplicate documents or leaflets were regularly sent out.
How did I get my photocopying done in a blink where this other person couldn’t? Compare her, “Get this done,” to my “Good morning, *****. How are you today? How’s your daughter?” In reply, I’d listen (and I do mean pay attention) to how well the woman’s daughter was doing, how proud she was of the young girl’s latest achievements, all of which swiftly concluded with, “I’ll put your work up next.”
No, I did not wish this woman a good morning in order to get my photocopying. Her doing so was an amazing bonus, but that was not in my mind the first time I said hello, or when I asked how she was anytime after. It’s called respect and being polite. I didn’t see her as the ‘photocopying woman’ as did so many. I saw her as someone deserving the same regard as anyone — a lesson the other two people of this blog could have done with learning before anyone gave them a job.
No one is generally more important than anyone else. If I were famous I would not expect someone to hurry off the toilet barring a life or death situation (that call...was it important? No, not at all). I wouldn’t turn up without warning and expect to jump the queue. It’s a crazy world where a recognisable name or face expects preferential treatment, particularly if it’s to the detriment of others. It’s odd we bestow such care, not on a nurse who maybe saved a life that day, but on people (famous, or not) who treat others with rudeness and arrogance. Respect should be earned. The person who does the photocopying or served coffee that morning, are all the same. My father served coffee for a time, and though he might have ended up in the Tower of London, had the Queen turned up he would have expected her to pay and to wait in line. He would have been polite, he would have been respectful, but he did not like any individual having privilege over another. Maybe the picture he painted with this declaration was more allegorical than actual, but, as a child, that was something I would have been tickled to see. I never knew if he exaggerated, but the principle sure stuck in my mind.
“Get ****** *******.”
“I’m sorry, she’s not at her desk right...”
“I want to speak to her.”
“... now. Maybe I can help, or take a message?”
“I am ******* **** so Go.Get.Her.Right.Nowwwwww.”
My cognitive reasoning instantly translated this to: “I’m a toffee-nosed blowhole who expects the world to bow instantly to my every whim. I’m so full of my own self-importance, I kiss my reflection first thing in the morning and last thing at night because no one else is good enough to kiss me, at all...except maybe my feet, when they are down there grovelling.”
I went to fetch the person in question (the toilet of all places) because it was my job and because, unfortunately, she was the other side of a similar coin. They deserved working together. She had the art of obsequiousness down pat when it served. Alas, in the real world, people management escaped her skillset.
“You got the photocopying done?” she asked one morning, staring at the pile in my arms. “You got it done ‘today’?”
“Yes,” I replied, somewhat puzzled.
“However did you manage that? ***** never does the photocopying for me that quickly. She sometimes makes me wait days.”
To clarify, some offices have had a photocopying departments, particularly if a lot of duplicate documents or leaflets were regularly sent out.
How did I get my photocopying done in a blink where this other person couldn’t? Compare her, “Get this done,” to my “Good morning, *****. How are you today? How’s your daughter?” In reply, I’d listen (and I do mean pay attention) to how well the woman’s daughter was doing, how proud she was of the young girl’s latest achievements, all of which swiftly concluded with, “I’ll put your work up next.”
No, I did not wish this woman a good morning in order to get my photocopying. Her doing so was an amazing bonus, but that was not in my mind the first time I said hello, or when I asked how she was anytime after. It’s called respect and being polite. I didn’t see her as the ‘photocopying woman’ as did so many. I saw her as someone deserving the same regard as anyone — a lesson the other two people of this blog could have done with learning before anyone gave them a job.
No one is generally more important than anyone else. If I were famous I would not expect someone to hurry off the toilet barring a life or death situation (that call...was it important? No, not at all). I wouldn’t turn up without warning and expect to jump the queue. It’s a crazy world where a recognisable name or face expects preferential treatment, particularly if it’s to the detriment of others. It’s odd we bestow such care, not on a nurse who maybe saved a life that day, but on people (famous, or not) who treat others with rudeness and arrogance. Respect should be earned. The person who does the photocopying or served coffee that morning, are all the same. My father served coffee for a time, and though he might have ended up in the Tower of London, had the Queen turned up he would have expected her to pay and to wait in line. He would have been polite, he would have been respectful, but he did not like any individual having privilege over another. Maybe the picture he painted with this declaration was more allegorical than actual, but, as a child, that was something I would have been tickled to see. I never knew if he exaggerated, but the principle sure stuck in my mind.
Monday, June 05, 2017
Shakespeare's Influence
Couldn't resist sharing. Think you know Shakespeare? Or maybe you think you've never read him, never watched a play, and don't care to. Maybe you think you don't know any Shakespeare at all. Think again.
Love or loathe, Shakespeare influenced our language like no other writer. My personal tip is, if you can, visit The Globe (or any theatre) and watch a live performance. His work are plays and meant to be watched rather than read. The Merchant of Venice was one of the many fantastic performances I've seen, and yes, I was lucky enough to see it at The Globe on a balmy summer evening. Watch for a fast and fun whirlwind tour of how Shakespeare has influenced our lives:
Love or loathe, Shakespeare influenced our language like no other writer. My personal tip is, if you can, visit The Globe (or any theatre) and watch a live performance. His work are plays and meant to be watched rather than read. The Merchant of Venice was one of the many fantastic performances I've seen, and yes, I was lucky enough to see it at The Globe on a balmy summer evening. Watch for a fast and fun whirlwind tour of how Shakespeare has influenced our lives:
Monday, May 22, 2017
Amazon Shenanigans
This week I'm simply highlighting some more Amazon Shenanigans.
I, too, was fooled by cheap books in the beginning, but this
steamroller is now out of control, and is no less damaging. Alas, some
writers and even publishers have to rely on Amazon these days, but
they've done nothing for writers or the book industry overall. I'm not
telling anyone what to do, or where to buy, and in some cases there is
literally 'no choice' but, please, open your eyes. Search online for
more related articles.
Monday, May 15, 2017
Love of the Written Word
This week, I'm re-blogging a post I wrote for one of my publisher's
blog (when I was writing for Musa). I think it's timely as the sale of
printed books are on the increase.
I’m here to discuss a friend's point of view -- one that hadn't occurred to me before. I’m going to wander a bit because I’m also talking books, but it all comes down to love for the written word.
Some people love e-books, some loathe them. I know some hate the term ‘e-book’ and I take that argument on board. A ‘book’ is a bound set of pages. Maybe it would be more accurate to call the electronic file of a book an e-novel or e-story because I don’t feel the presentation affects the content. The story ‘exists’ the moment the author penned it. When one used typewriters or even quills and ink, that didn’t make the story exist any less, although by no definition could hand written or typed pages be called ‘books’.
I'm not against electronic files of books, but I still love paper books. Always will. I admit there’s nothing like a physical book that can be held in the hand. It’s nostalgic. If a gift, we may recollect when we opened a brightly wrapped package, the moment we first set eyes on it, felt that fission of pleasure, and spare a moment’s thought for the person who gifted it. An electronic file, for the most part, lacks the personal touch. An old book, even when it deteriorates with time… Well, those creases in the spine and cover could have been put there over many years of handling and love. I don’t see a scruffy book as one that has necessarily been discarded or ill-used. Also, for someone like me who spends a great deal of time in front of computer screens, then the printed page is a departure from that, although e-readers are improving all the time and this may not always be an issue.
Saying that, there's room for both formats in my life simply owing to practicality. For one thing, I write e-books and would be a total hypocrite to then say I hate them. I don't hate them. I would love to live in the kind of library the Beast gave to Beauty in the Disney film -- just push my bed and a chair and table into the middle, I'll be fine -- but so far I’ve yet to stumble across any enchanted castles even if I’ve found my Prince Charming. I love all sorts of books from the classics to children’s stories, fantasy and horror, and yes, some romances. I can be fussy about my romances more than any genre, I think, but I do read them along with all the other genres I love -- to call my book collection eclectic is an understatement.
Unfortunately, I simply don’t have room for all the books I would love to read and own. I’m one of those readers, who, if I love a book, I struggle to part with it. I’ve relatives who don’t understand this. They feel a book once read or a film once seen is finished with. The story has been told; the reader/viewer knows what will happen, so why read/watch it again. I understand the point, but I disagree with it. A much-loved experience can be enjoyed again. It can be enjoyed more because often one can miss things on a first pass just as an author can during the writing process.
Among my many ‘wants’, I would love to own an entire library of classics. I’ve an abiding love for them. It amazes me when I hear someone say today that they’ve never read any of the literary greats. Black Beauty, Heidi, Pride and Prejudice, Gulliver’s Travels, Oliver Twist...all these books and more were among my childhood reads. I cannot even remember them being referred to as ‘classics’ -- they were just books and they were adventures. They took me to different worlds and gave me experiences I would never have had otherwise. I read them alongside stories such as The Water Babies, What Katy Did, Ballet Shoes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and I never differentiated. Now they are looked upon as stuffy, and dry, the language outdated. I cannot help feeling that people were better educated, more eloquent and literate when such books were read at a younger age. I was born at a time when almost all parents read to their children, where I was given books for older children than my age, and if I couldn’t read them right away, well I wanted to, and it made me strive to learn. If I didn’t know a word my parents handed me a dictionary and told me to look it up, and yes, I took the time to do so. So these books have remained with me, ingrained.
The electronic format has allowed me to revisit some of these classics I’ve lost through moves, through lack of space. I am grateful. They are adventures and memories revisited, and I can keep them in virtual ‘space’. Although I still often buy my favourite authors in print, I have branched out and discovered others owing to electronic formats. I would prefer a world where there wasn’t an argument for or against, but where all can live in support and cooperation. In an advanced society, life is about individual choice.
My thinking was personified when speaking with a friend of mine. This friend is in his seventies and he recently bought an e-reader...and adores it. His reason is simple -- he has struggled to read a book for some time. His eyes aren’t quite as they used to be and there may be other factors in his health, but whatever the reason, he can ‘see’ the words better on his reader as opposed to looking at a printed page. He can also increase the font size if need be, or zoom in. His reader has made his whole reading experience come alive again, and where he had as good as given up reading, or took a long time to struggle through a single novel, he’s reading again...devouring books, and what I saw in his eyes as he told me all this was joy.
So I’m just putting this thought out there for those very much against. Maybe e-books and e-readers aren’t for everyone, and for some, they may never be, but I think this proves that it’s pointless to criticise the needs of another person and that none of us can know what we may one day need ourselves. Should there be anyone saying they’d rather give up reading than commit sacrilege and read electronic books, then I can only think nose, spite, face. I could never give up reading. I’ve never heard such venomous arguments over audio books, which many people enjoy who aren’t blind and who don’t have seeing difficulties. The argument may stem from fear -- a dread that the production of printed books will one day cease, and I understand that emotion well. Without printed books, this would be a poorer world, but one cannot ignore the increase of electronic formats -- something I knew would take off long before the first e-reader was even conceived. Simply, there may come a time where e-readers exist alongside things like audio books and are considered as commonplace, where they’re a lifeline for some, and -- just as someone brought books into my life to enrich it -- in my ‘book’ that makes their existence tolerable and even worthwhile.
I’m here to discuss a friend's point of view -- one that hadn't occurred to me before. I’m going to wander a bit because I’m also talking books, but it all comes down to love for the written word.
Some people love e-books, some loathe them. I know some hate the term ‘e-book’ and I take that argument on board. A ‘book’ is a bound set of pages. Maybe it would be more accurate to call the electronic file of a book an e-novel or e-story because I don’t feel the presentation affects the content. The story ‘exists’ the moment the author penned it. When one used typewriters or even quills and ink, that didn’t make the story exist any less, although by no definition could hand written or typed pages be called ‘books’.
I'm not against electronic files of books, but I still love paper books. Always will. I admit there’s nothing like a physical book that can be held in the hand. It’s nostalgic. If a gift, we may recollect when we opened a brightly wrapped package, the moment we first set eyes on it, felt that fission of pleasure, and spare a moment’s thought for the person who gifted it. An electronic file, for the most part, lacks the personal touch. An old book, even when it deteriorates with time… Well, those creases in the spine and cover could have been put there over many years of handling and love. I don’t see a scruffy book as one that has necessarily been discarded or ill-used. Also, for someone like me who spends a great deal of time in front of computer screens, then the printed page is a departure from that, although e-readers are improving all the time and this may not always be an issue.
Saying that, there's room for both formats in my life simply owing to practicality. For one thing, I write e-books and would be a total hypocrite to then say I hate them. I don't hate them. I would love to live in the kind of library the Beast gave to Beauty in the Disney film -- just push my bed and a chair and table into the middle, I'll be fine -- but so far I’ve yet to stumble across any enchanted castles even if I’ve found my Prince Charming. I love all sorts of books from the classics to children’s stories, fantasy and horror, and yes, some romances. I can be fussy about my romances more than any genre, I think, but I do read them along with all the other genres I love -- to call my book collection eclectic is an understatement.
Unfortunately, I simply don’t have room for all the books I would love to read and own. I’m one of those readers, who, if I love a book, I struggle to part with it. I’ve relatives who don’t understand this. They feel a book once read or a film once seen is finished with. The story has been told; the reader/viewer knows what will happen, so why read/watch it again. I understand the point, but I disagree with it. A much-loved experience can be enjoyed again. It can be enjoyed more because often one can miss things on a first pass just as an author can during the writing process.
Among my many ‘wants’, I would love to own an entire library of classics. I’ve an abiding love for them. It amazes me when I hear someone say today that they’ve never read any of the literary greats. Black Beauty, Heidi, Pride and Prejudice, Gulliver’s Travels, Oliver Twist...all these books and more were among my childhood reads. I cannot even remember them being referred to as ‘classics’ -- they were just books and they were adventures. They took me to different worlds and gave me experiences I would never have had otherwise. I read them alongside stories such as The Water Babies, What Katy Did, Ballet Shoes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and I never differentiated. Now they are looked upon as stuffy, and dry, the language outdated. I cannot help feeling that people were better educated, more eloquent and literate when such books were read at a younger age. I was born at a time when almost all parents read to their children, where I was given books for older children than my age, and if I couldn’t read them right away, well I wanted to, and it made me strive to learn. If I didn’t know a word my parents handed me a dictionary and told me to look it up, and yes, I took the time to do so. So these books have remained with me, ingrained.
The electronic format has allowed me to revisit some of these classics I’ve lost through moves, through lack of space. I am grateful. They are adventures and memories revisited, and I can keep them in virtual ‘space’. Although I still often buy my favourite authors in print, I have branched out and discovered others owing to electronic formats. I would prefer a world where there wasn’t an argument for or against, but where all can live in support and cooperation. In an advanced society, life is about individual choice.
My thinking was personified when speaking with a friend of mine. This friend is in his seventies and he recently bought an e-reader...and adores it. His reason is simple -- he has struggled to read a book for some time. His eyes aren’t quite as they used to be and there may be other factors in his health, but whatever the reason, he can ‘see’ the words better on his reader as opposed to looking at a printed page. He can also increase the font size if need be, or zoom in. His reader has made his whole reading experience come alive again, and where he had as good as given up reading, or took a long time to struggle through a single novel, he’s reading again...devouring books, and what I saw in his eyes as he told me all this was joy.
So I’m just putting this thought out there for those very much against. Maybe e-books and e-readers aren’t for everyone, and for some, they may never be, but I think this proves that it’s pointless to criticise the needs of another person and that none of us can know what we may one day need ourselves. Should there be anyone saying they’d rather give up reading than commit sacrilege and read electronic books, then I can only think nose, spite, face. I could never give up reading. I’ve never heard such venomous arguments over audio books, which many people enjoy who aren’t blind and who don’t have seeing difficulties. The argument may stem from fear -- a dread that the production of printed books will one day cease, and I understand that emotion well. Without printed books, this would be a poorer world, but one cannot ignore the increase of electronic formats -- something I knew would take off long before the first e-reader was even conceived. Simply, there may come a time where e-readers exist alongside things like audio books and are considered as commonplace, where they’re a lifeline for some, and -- just as someone brought books into my life to enrich it -- in my ‘book’ that makes their existence tolerable and even worthwhile.
Monday, April 24, 2017
Perfect sentences
The power of a single sentence can make a whole book not only
memorable in the short term, but a forever favourite. The perfect
sentence (or paragraph) can be humourous, insightful, frightening,
heartbreaking, or a combination of these and many more. The right
sequence of words can convey a thought process, the whole subtext of a
novel, and/or make the reader look at the world a different way. I've
kept some novels simply because I felt the book contained a perfect
sentence, one that resonated. The writer cannot get too engrossed with
creating the correct phrase, however, because he or she would never
complete any work. Fortunately, for everyone, sometimes the magic
happens anyway, but one sentence that means the world to one reader will
be meaningless to another. All our experiences differ. As unique
individuals what we appreciate and what has meaning varies as much as
our personalities. Life would be boring if the situation were otherwise.
One such perfect sentence for me is toward the end of Poppy Z Brite's, Drawing Blood. "The art was in learning to spend your life with someone, in having the courage to be creative with someone, to melt each other's souls to molten temperatures and let them flow together into an alloy that could withstand the world."
This is perfect to me because it reveals the human condition, of the struggle to withstand and sustain life, and includes a simple but well-presented explanation of why for many of us we find it important to create and to love. We may not need books, music, art etc., or even require companionship to exist, but we need them to 'live'. The above sentence takes something fundamental to most of us and presents it in an untarnished, descriptive, and beautiful way.
One such perfect sentence for me is toward the end of Poppy Z Brite's, Drawing Blood. "The art was in learning to spend your life with someone, in having the courage to be creative with someone, to melt each other's souls to molten temperatures and let them flow together into an alloy that could withstand the world."
This is perfect to me because it reveals the human condition, of the struggle to withstand and sustain life, and includes a simple but well-presented explanation of why for many of us we find it important to create and to love. We may not need books, music, art etc., or even require companionship to exist, but we need them to 'live'. The above sentence takes something fundamental to most of us and presents it in an untarnished, descriptive, and beautiful way.
Monday, April 03, 2017
Regard Fear as the Enemy
A little over a year ago I did a guest spot on Southern Writers. Several months on this seems a perfect moment to reproduce that blog here, though an introduction explaining why won't hurt.
Writers everywhere get days when they would like nothing more than remain in bed, and to draw the pillow over their heads. Despite the longed-for dream, not everything about writing is fun. I always look at writing and publishing as two different 'beasts'. This is one of those not-so-fun instances.
I've moved. We've work to do in the house, and this being the biggest relocation of our lives (so far), we've much to organise. I'd love to be one of those people who can compartmentalise, push everything to the back of my mind and write. I'm much better at getting everything finished and then concentrating on one thing at a time. No way in publishing can that happen. Right now I've a book to finish I wanted to sub at the end of January. I've another in a trilogy that requires approximately another 20k of words and I should be sending in...oh about now. There's no set deadline, but I'm trying to reach readers, publisher, and my expectations. Then I've another, and in many ways far more important book to finish that needs a whole subplot adding to it. I'm swamped.
At the weekend I walked away from it all. I took a time out I couldn't afford because something was going to snap; bad enough it should be my temper but I didn't want it to be me. All that leads me into the subject because writers live with a good deal of fear. Fear they won't meet deadlines. Fear they won't be able to finish a book. Terror each new work won't be received as well as their last. Fear of taking on new projects, especially those outside of their comfort zone, and the temptation to walk away from it all.
While the books I refer to below are currently unavailable I'm working on other projects that feel as terrifying, maybe more so. Add to that the dread of days that end in what feels like a blink and bed and a pillow seems evermore enticing. The trouble with that temptation like so many types of avoidance, it cures nothing.
I wish I could write an encouraging ‘how-to’ narrative revealing all the secrets of mastering the writing craft. Such a missive might make the task easier and eliminate writer anxiety. My own included. My advice? Be afraid but grasp opportunities anyway.
The secret is there is no secret. What may work for one author may not work for another, same for genre or market. There’s no specific wrong or right way to write, wrong or right way to market (though spamming is never a good thing). There’s no yet to be revealed way to kill the worry of finding the next idea, the right publisher, receiving a bad review, or jumping in and trying something new. I’ve learned to view the occasional fluke as providence.
I try anything, and file that which doesn’t work now in case something becomes useful in the future. This goes for stories as much as promoting. I find stories often by ‘accident’. I’ll begin with two seemingly unconnected incidents, a vague idea of characters or places, or a single occurrence. I’ve even created stories from a title idea, a phrase, or a random selection of words, tried numerous genres. Some markets I stumbled into because an idea nagged me to write it, or because I was searching for submission calls. That’s when accident bridges the gap to intent. Where one formula won’t work for one writer, it may do so for another. Where a blueprint doesn’t apply to one genre, another must be rigid. Study the market. It’s amazing how many writers still send the wrong material to the wrong editor or publication. A horror publisher doesn’t want romance or vice versa. Pay attention to guidelines.
I read anything and everything; have too many interests, so when it came to writing it was hardly surprising I wanted to run in all directions. I decided to call myself a multi-genre author little knowing I was making an already difficult task more problematic. Branding is important, possibly imperative. My stories appear from the mysterious ark of my imagination working together with a brain that seems to tuck away the quirkiest detail; I sometimes feel as if I’m fooling myself if I think I’m anyway in control of them. There’s no knowing where I’ll head next, so I keep my options open. That’s why my next publication will take me to Jupiter where there are dragons.
Being willing to make ‘accidental’ connections both in real life and in my storytelling is how I came to be embroiled in the steampunk world of Space 1889. I was invited. I quietly panicked. Then I took a breath, started reading and researching. Now I have three titles (one co-authored) in a series that is a little part of history. Regard fear as the enemy.
Writers everywhere get days when they would like nothing more than remain in bed, and to draw the pillow over their heads. Despite the longed-for dream, not everything about writing is fun. I always look at writing and publishing as two different 'beasts'. This is one of those not-so-fun instances.
I've moved. We've work to do in the house, and this being the biggest relocation of our lives (so far), we've much to organise. I'd love to be one of those people who can compartmentalise, push everything to the back of my mind and write. I'm much better at getting everything finished and then concentrating on one thing at a time. No way in publishing can that happen. Right now I've a book to finish I wanted to sub at the end of January. I've another in a trilogy that requires approximately another 20k of words and I should be sending in...oh about now. There's no set deadline, but I'm trying to reach readers, publisher, and my expectations. Then I've another, and in many ways far more important book to finish that needs a whole subplot adding to it. I'm swamped.
At the weekend I walked away from it all. I took a time out I couldn't afford because something was going to snap; bad enough it should be my temper but I didn't want it to be me. All that leads me into the subject because writers live with a good deal of fear. Fear they won't meet deadlines. Fear they won't be able to finish a book. Terror each new work won't be received as well as their last. Fear of taking on new projects, especially those outside of their comfort zone, and the temptation to walk away from it all.
While the books I refer to below are currently unavailable I'm working on other projects that feel as terrifying, maybe more so. Add to that the dread of days that end in what feels like a blink and bed and a pillow seems evermore enticing. The trouble with that temptation like so many types of avoidance, it cures nothing.
***
I wish I could write an encouraging ‘how-to’ narrative revealing all the secrets of mastering the writing craft. Such a missive might make the task easier and eliminate writer anxiety. My own included. My advice? Be afraid but grasp opportunities anyway.
The secret is there is no secret. What may work for one author may not work for another, same for genre or market. There’s no specific wrong or right way to write, wrong or right way to market (though spamming is never a good thing). There’s no yet to be revealed way to kill the worry of finding the next idea, the right publisher, receiving a bad review, or jumping in and trying something new. I’ve learned to view the occasional fluke as providence.
I try anything, and file that which doesn’t work now in case something becomes useful in the future. This goes for stories as much as promoting. I find stories often by ‘accident’. I’ll begin with two seemingly unconnected incidents, a vague idea of characters or places, or a single occurrence. I’ve even created stories from a title idea, a phrase, or a random selection of words, tried numerous genres. Some markets I stumbled into because an idea nagged me to write it, or because I was searching for submission calls. That’s when accident bridges the gap to intent. Where one formula won’t work for one writer, it may do so for another. Where a blueprint doesn’t apply to one genre, another must be rigid. Study the market. It’s amazing how many writers still send the wrong material to the wrong editor or publication. A horror publisher doesn’t want romance or vice versa. Pay attention to guidelines.
I read anything and everything; have too many interests, so when it came to writing it was hardly surprising I wanted to run in all directions. I decided to call myself a multi-genre author little knowing I was making an already difficult task more problematic. Branding is important, possibly imperative. My stories appear from the mysterious ark of my imagination working together with a brain that seems to tuck away the quirkiest detail; I sometimes feel as if I’m fooling myself if I think I’m anyway in control of them. There’s no knowing where I’ll head next, so I keep my options open. That’s why my next publication will take me to Jupiter where there are dragons.
Being willing to make ‘accidental’ connections both in real life and in my storytelling is how I came to be embroiled in the steampunk world of Space 1889. I was invited. I quietly panicked. Then I took a breath, started reading and researching. Now I have three titles (one co-authored) in a series that is a little part of history. Regard fear as the enemy.
Monday, March 27, 2017
How to be more Creative
A good while ago I put up a post linking to a speech famously given by John Cleese in 1991. I've lost the link to that post but found this one. On a good note, it's less than five minutes to watch rather than the previously quarter of an hour. It also addresses many of the key points in that speech. It's worth paying attention to. My thoughts returned to this because although we're finally in our new house I'm struggling to get back into writing mode. I've two books that desperately call to be finish, but it feels as though everything else equally requires my urgent notice.
Generally, there's probably not a day that goes by when I don't wish I could follow his advice; sadly, my brain has to work when it gets the opportunity and doesn't know how to switch off activities. I absolutely understood a moment he refers to, though, when he says you sit down and remember a thousand things to do. That could not be truer after a move, after a major upheaval of completely relocating your life and existence to another part of the country (and for those of you who don't know, that's why I've been absent). Living here doesn't feel real because of so many things, not least my trying to recall how to be creative.
Generally, there's probably not a day that goes by when I don't wish I could follow his advice; sadly, my brain has to work when it gets the opportunity and doesn't know how to switch off activities. I absolutely understood a moment he refers to, though, when he says you sit down and remember a thousand things to do. That could not be truer after a move, after a major upheaval of completely relocating your life and existence to another part of the country (and for those of you who don't know, that's why I've been absent). Living here doesn't feel real because of so many things, not least my trying to recall how to be creative.
Monday, February 06, 2017
Good News
First, this will be the last blog for at least two or three weeks.
I'm afraid I missed last week owing to ill health and the days ahead are
busier than usual...for an excellent reason. When I return it will be
from a new address.
Yes, I'm moving...again! Seems to be all I do in recent years, but after several stressful weeks/months/years even, I'm able to say we're making a significant move, a life-changing relocation. Providing all goes well, I can even look forward to finally having a study. There's much to arrange and so I'll be taking a hoped-for 'only short' break, though I'm still trying to finish the Work in Progress, and edits for another release in the 'Snow Angel' planned trilogy.
In the meantime, I'm happy to announce I've been notified that I have a novel accepted for the Lethbridge-Stewart series. No specifics as yet regarding title or release, though it will be later this year. And meanwhile I've a short story out in a few weeks--the 'sleepless nights' the write-up for Night to Dawn Issue 31 refers to. More news when I have it...and when I'm able to post.
Yes, I'm moving...again! Seems to be all I do in recent years, but after several stressful weeks/months/years even, I'm able to say we're making a significant move, a life-changing relocation. Providing all goes well, I can even look forward to finally having a study. There's much to arrange and so I'll be taking a hoped-for 'only short' break, though I'm still trying to finish the Work in Progress, and edits for another release in the 'Snow Angel' planned trilogy.
In the meantime, I'm happy to announce I've been notified that I have a novel accepted for the Lethbridge-Stewart series. No specifics as yet regarding title or release, though it will be later this year. And meanwhile I've a short story out in a few weeks--the 'sleepless nights' the write-up for Night to Dawn Issue 31 refers to. More news when I have it...and when I'm able to post.
Monday, January 16, 2017
To the person who left me a comment...
(Note: this is a repost).
To the person who left me a comment saying they may look like spam but assuring me otherwise, your site looks like...well, spam. You say you're not a publisher and yet you're making money selling free ebooks. This is an oxymoron. If you are selling books they're not 'free'. Secondly, you say you're not a writer so from where are you getting these books? Are you selling other people's free ebooks? If you're doing so without their permission you are in violation of copyright law. If you are buying ebooks and selling them on, you are in violation of copyright law. On both counts, I advise you to read the statement re copyright on this site. If you are doing something else that I don't understand, my apologies, but no, I'm not going to download your report file from a site that says little. For all I know, it could be a virus. I'd advise everyone else not to do so either. This isn't personal. I'm just being sensibly cautious. Sorry.
Look, copyright law on ebooks is simple. It prohibits the copy, distribute, resale or loan of an ebook. Saying that, most of us wouldn't object if we heard readers have made a backup copy purely for personal use. We live in a wonderful age of technology but technology fails us from time to time. We hear of someone selling our work and we'd like to come down on them like the proverbial tonnage. Writers and publishers are getting better at locating piracy sites and law enforcement are finally taking it seriously.
A common question is "If I can resell or loan a printed book, why can't I, as a reader, resell or loan ebooks?" To be honest, even the reselling or lending of some printed books is a grey area. However, it tends to be overlooked because of several reasons.
When you pass on an ebook (and some people do this in innocence not piracy but they are still in the wrong) the reader tends to 'keep' their version and simply send the file on, thereby making a 'copy'. This is as illegal in both electronic and printed works.
Imagine taking one of Stephen King's novels, dissecting it, scanning it in, printing it up either by POD, or via the printer at home, and trying to give it away, sell it, or hand to a friend. Should SK find out, do you think he wouldn't sue? Do you think he'd be flattered?
The point is no one is allowed to make a 'copy' of any written work be it printed or electronic. You may (usually) print off an electronic book for the purpose of reading it in that form should you not wish to read on screen, but that printed form is subject to the same laws. You may not sell it, or pass it on. If you wish to pass on an ebook the only viable way is to buy an extra copy, and what's so wrong with that? We all have people to buy presents for.
Oh...and to those who think they can file share their ebook library, has nothing I've stated sunk in? An individual's collection is NOT a library and even if it could be there is such a thing as the 'public lending right'. This means an author can if they wish, claim a small payment every time a library lends one of their books.
To the person who left me a comment saying they may look like spam but assuring me otherwise, your site looks like...well, spam. You say you're not a publisher and yet you're making money selling free ebooks. This is an oxymoron. If you are selling books they're not 'free'. Secondly, you say you're not a writer so from where are you getting these books? Are you selling other people's free ebooks? If you're doing so without their permission you are in violation of copyright law. If you are buying ebooks and selling them on, you are in violation of copyright law. On both counts, I advise you to read the statement re copyright on this site. If you are doing something else that I don't understand, my apologies, but no, I'm not going to download your report file from a site that says little. For all I know, it could be a virus. I'd advise everyone else not to do so either. This isn't personal. I'm just being sensibly cautious. Sorry.
Look, copyright law on ebooks is simple. It prohibits the copy, distribute, resale or loan of an ebook. Saying that, most of us wouldn't object if we heard readers have made a backup copy purely for personal use. We live in a wonderful age of technology but technology fails us from time to time. We hear of someone selling our work and we'd like to come down on them like the proverbial tonnage. Writers and publishers are getting better at locating piracy sites and law enforcement are finally taking it seriously.
A common question is "If I can resell or loan a printed book, why can't I, as a reader, resell or loan ebooks?" To be honest, even the reselling or lending of some printed books is a grey area. However, it tends to be overlooked because of several reasons.
- Most people hate the idea of printed books being destroyed. If you're finished with them and cannot pass them on in some way they are only good for recycling.
- When a printed book is passed on, someone may find an author they like and start buying new books by that author on a regular basis. It's sort of free advertising and yes, one could argue this would apply to ebooks but a major difference and reason exists why this doesn't work so read on.
- Many second-hand books are sold for charitable purposes.
- The reader gives up the physical edition of the book and will no longer own it.
When you pass on an ebook (and some people do this in innocence not piracy but they are still in the wrong) the reader tends to 'keep' their version and simply send the file on, thereby making a 'copy'. This is as illegal in both electronic and printed works.
Imagine taking one of Stephen King's novels, dissecting it, scanning it in, printing it up either by POD, or via the printer at home, and trying to give it away, sell it, or hand to a friend. Should SK find out, do you think he wouldn't sue? Do you think he'd be flattered?
The point is no one is allowed to make a 'copy' of any written work be it printed or electronic. You may (usually) print off an electronic book for the purpose of reading it in that form should you not wish to read on screen, but that printed form is subject to the same laws. You may not sell it, or pass it on. If you wish to pass on an ebook the only viable way is to buy an extra copy, and what's so wrong with that? We all have people to buy presents for.
Oh...and to those who think they can file share their ebook library, has nothing I've stated sunk in? An individual's collection is NOT a library and even if it could be there is such a thing as the 'public lending right'. This means an author can if they wish, claim a small payment every time a library lends one of their books.
- You are not a publisher and the author has not signed a contract with you. You do not have the right to sell.
- You are not an official state library. You do not have the right to loan (and let's be honest -- loan in electronic format means copy and give away).
- You are not friends with thousands of strangers online that you simply 'must' lend your books to (and we've already established that you are not lending but copying) and authors and publishers will not turn their back on you 'giving' their work away.
Monday, January 09, 2017
Why ARe's Closure Matters to All
Some stopping by may have heard the shocking news of the closure of All
Romance Ebooks, otherwise known as ARe. Others may not and that’s why
I’m rehashing some of the details before moving on to explaining why
situations like this and the outcome is important to all. The shock
comes because of the way the owner, Lori James, chose to deal with the
closure and treat the people who have supported this book distributor
and publisher for so long.
Let’s be clear, this isn’t simply another case of a publisher letting down its writers -- a situation that is always a blow resonating through and carrying consequences for the industry. This closure affected publishers, writers AND readers. The publishers and writers were incensed and disgusted to be ‘offered’ a fraction of all monies owed, but they were as much if not more concerned for the readers who had extensive libraries stored on ARe, libraries that short notice would never give them the chance to download.
Let’s deal with the closure first. Lawsuit documents reveal Lori James (and I quote from sources) ‘screwed’ her business partner Barbara Perfetti who sued James in early 2015, stating claims to which James never responded. In addition, there are only vague references to a decline in business and ‘poor financial forecasts’ to explain the closure, unsupported ‘mutterings’ from a company who reported sales running into the millions in recent years, worked with both publishers and writers, began to publish its own titles, and who claimed more than a million books listed.
But what raises the level of suspicion is the abruptness, the indifference and the blackmailing tactic of the company’s closing ‘offer’, and the fact that, mere days before the closure, James distributed ARe’s advertising rates for 2017. Publishers and writers took out and paid for advertising for 2017, and James ‘accepted’ those payments knowing full well the announcement to close was to follow. I know because I received the same offer and was one of the fortunate few who did not take out advertising...but my publishers did. To my knowledge, there has been no offer to repay any of those advertising spots. That screams of nothing less than fraud.
ARe wanted to pay 10 cents on the dollar to publishers, a real blow to those owed thousands (yes, thousands) of dollars. Those publishers need to pay their own salaries, pay their writers, pay their editors, pay their cover artists and more. It’s been documented and I can personally confirm, some publishers have contemplated trying to withstand the loss themselves in an effort to pay those they owe, but such decisions could put their own companies at risk. James proposed a payment in order to avoid filing for bankruptcy. Sorry to sound flippant, but boohoo. Even if the company is in as large a financial mess as it claims (though it really hasn’t stated specifics) the situation did not arise overnight. And as part of accepting the 10 cent payoff, James stipulated that those who accepted must waver their legal rights to take further action. In short, James was stating that the payment may be the only one anyone would see, take it or risk receiving nothing, and in so doing no one would be able to chase her no matter what happens to the rest of the takings.
Lori James also hurt the readers. Even after the announcement, books were still up for sale spurring publishers to remove their books from the sites as swiftly as possible. Some succeeded; some did not. James then blocked access so readers could download their libraries and finally stopped selling more books (as far as I know only after complaints). Readers lost books removed by publishers, but it mattered not as they had insufficient time to download their libraries in just ‘four days’, and may not have even received their notice to do so in time, being that this took place over the Christmas period with the site shutting down on 31st December.
Four days. Everyone got ‘four days’ to download libraries, or to make informed and difficult decisions regarding payment, and this does not even address the issue of worthless gift vouchers unlikely to ever receive a refund. Readers, you should be angry, too.
To those who have contacted some authors saying it’s not a blow to the industry (yes, unbelievably, some have written to authors directly, which is my reason for writing this post as I feel incensed on behalf of others), how many times do writers have to say that what they do is work and it comes with a cost? What part of cover artists want paying does not compute? What part of editors want paying does not sink in? Why are writers not entitled to receive payment for every word they put on the page? The writer only gets a fraction of the cover cost and a fraction of a fraction is nothing. Why is a writer’s time worth nothing to so many?
Publishing at any level is an ‘industry’. It is BUSINESS. The same way the public purchases a cinema ticket, those who wish to read a story need to lay down money at the door. And where do those blockbusters we love to sit in darkened cinemas spring from? It's born from the imagination and talent of a writer and many people helping that spark along the way. There are many behind the scenes whose name and craft the viewer or reader will never know of. They all want, and NEED, their cut. So do not come out in defence of people like Lori James who treat those they owe with such disregard. Do not claim it doesn’t matter. It very much does. It’s why writers go it alone. It’s why the good works are entangled with the bad and why Indie publishing is a growing threat to traditional publishing. Writers often ‘go it alone’ simply because they feel safer doing so, believe they have more control. In the case of ARe even Indie writers got stung.
Lori James writes under a pen name and no doubt in future will write under more. I’ll have to be on the lookout in the hope I never put another dime into this woman’s hands. I can’t tell anyone who to read, but I hope their conscience will.
Let’s be clear, this isn’t simply another case of a publisher letting down its writers -- a situation that is always a blow resonating through and carrying consequences for the industry. This closure affected publishers, writers AND readers. The publishers and writers were incensed and disgusted to be ‘offered’ a fraction of all monies owed, but they were as much if not more concerned for the readers who had extensive libraries stored on ARe, libraries that short notice would never give them the chance to download.
Let’s deal with the closure first. Lawsuit documents reveal Lori James (and I quote from sources) ‘screwed’ her business partner Barbara Perfetti who sued James in early 2015, stating claims to which James never responded. In addition, there are only vague references to a decline in business and ‘poor financial forecasts’ to explain the closure, unsupported ‘mutterings’ from a company who reported sales running into the millions in recent years, worked with both publishers and writers, began to publish its own titles, and who claimed more than a million books listed.
But what raises the level of suspicion is the abruptness, the indifference and the blackmailing tactic of the company’s closing ‘offer’, and the fact that, mere days before the closure, James distributed ARe’s advertising rates for 2017. Publishers and writers took out and paid for advertising for 2017, and James ‘accepted’ those payments knowing full well the announcement to close was to follow. I know because I received the same offer and was one of the fortunate few who did not take out advertising...but my publishers did. To my knowledge, there has been no offer to repay any of those advertising spots. That screams of nothing less than fraud.
ARe wanted to pay 10 cents on the dollar to publishers, a real blow to those owed thousands (yes, thousands) of dollars. Those publishers need to pay their own salaries, pay their writers, pay their editors, pay their cover artists and more. It’s been documented and I can personally confirm, some publishers have contemplated trying to withstand the loss themselves in an effort to pay those they owe, but such decisions could put their own companies at risk. James proposed a payment in order to avoid filing for bankruptcy. Sorry to sound flippant, but boohoo. Even if the company is in as large a financial mess as it claims (though it really hasn’t stated specifics) the situation did not arise overnight. And as part of accepting the 10 cent payoff, James stipulated that those who accepted must waver their legal rights to take further action. In short, James was stating that the payment may be the only one anyone would see, take it or risk receiving nothing, and in so doing no one would be able to chase her no matter what happens to the rest of the takings.
Lori James also hurt the readers. Even after the announcement, books were still up for sale spurring publishers to remove their books from the sites as swiftly as possible. Some succeeded; some did not. James then blocked access so readers could download their libraries and finally stopped selling more books (as far as I know only after complaints). Readers lost books removed by publishers, but it mattered not as they had insufficient time to download their libraries in just ‘four days’, and may not have even received their notice to do so in time, being that this took place over the Christmas period with the site shutting down on 31st December.
Four days. Everyone got ‘four days’ to download libraries, or to make informed and difficult decisions regarding payment, and this does not even address the issue of worthless gift vouchers unlikely to ever receive a refund. Readers, you should be angry, too.
To those who have contacted some authors saying it’s not a blow to the industry (yes, unbelievably, some have written to authors directly, which is my reason for writing this post as I feel incensed on behalf of others), how many times do writers have to say that what they do is work and it comes with a cost? What part of cover artists want paying does not compute? What part of editors want paying does not sink in? Why are writers not entitled to receive payment for every word they put on the page? The writer only gets a fraction of the cover cost and a fraction of a fraction is nothing. Why is a writer’s time worth nothing to so many?
Publishing at any level is an ‘industry’. It is BUSINESS. The same way the public purchases a cinema ticket, those who wish to read a story need to lay down money at the door. And where do those blockbusters we love to sit in darkened cinemas spring from? It's born from the imagination and talent of a writer and many people helping that spark along the way. There are many behind the scenes whose name and craft the viewer or reader will never know of. They all want, and NEED, their cut. So do not come out in defence of people like Lori James who treat those they owe with such disregard. Do not claim it doesn’t matter. It very much does. It’s why writers go it alone. It’s why the good works are entangled with the bad and why Indie publishing is a growing threat to traditional publishing. Writers often ‘go it alone’ simply because they feel safer doing so, believe they have more control. In the case of ARe even Indie writers got stung.
Lori James writes under a pen name and no doubt in future will write under more. I’ll have to be on the lookout in the hope I never put another dime into this woman’s hands. I can’t tell anyone who to read, but I hope their conscience will.
Monday, January 02, 2017
Reads of 2016
I usually finish off the year with a blog looking back over the books
I've read during the last twelve months. Unfortunately, I didn't blog
last week because I was away without Internet access and so this
particular blog is a few days late and, owing to a tight schedule during
2016, liable to be even more pitiful in number of books read than the
last couple of years. Still, I can't let the year pass completely
without mentioning a few titles.
I read a few light novels at the start of 2016 that aren't worth listing. In May I opened up Sunfail, by Steven Saville, an espionage tale that's decidedly plot-driven but which I enjoyed. I've seen one review calling it slick, and I agree. I also discovered Nigel Williams, my first read of his being R.I.P. I knew I was going to enjoy this the moment I read the opening line of the blurb: 'Retired bank manager George Pearmain is, apparently, dead.' This is a nicely humorous, sardonic read.
Joyland and a few of the Gunslinger Graphic novels was a visit by me to a longstanding and constant writer, Stephen King, followed by a Heart-Shaped Box by his son, Joe Hill. The title caught my attention and for the most part, I enjoyed the book, but not as much as my 2014 read of Horns. To me, a Heart-Shaped Box started out well but didn't go dark enough. What started out as a promising scare didn't quite hold its momentum or its thrills but it still earns a place on my bookshelves.
I started The Enchantment Emporium, by Tanya Huff while on holiday and was immediately captivated and added this writer to my list, purchasing the following two books to add to my to-be-read mountain. The stories are definitely aimed at women but contain enough various elements to hold my interest -- a blend of family issues, romance, and magic. The series had me at 'Dragons', of course.
Winter Tales is an anthology I had to check out because it features several writers including me. I found I was more taken with the stories in the beginning of the book and, therefore, exceedingly happy where mine was placed, but like with every anthology, each reader will have their own preferences. I still like a short story and a selection is always a good way to check out new talent.
The Unquiet was my latest read by John Connolly. Unfortunately, I am behind on his books simply because of that mountain awaiting my attention. I readily admit that. I've the next two in said pile.
The Wine of Angels was my first foray into the world of Phil Rickman and his character of Merrily Watkins. I liked the concept of a female priest thrown into small village intrigue and investigation and thoroughly enjoyed this book, the characters in the village and the writing. Alas, I didn't take to Merrily. I'm sure to read more of these titles but it's a bit like watching an episode of a favourite show where the supporting cast are stronger and more interesting than the lead. I hope this improves as the series continues.
Bleu/Blaque by Belinda McBride is worth mentioning for anyone looking for a m/m romance title. I'm ashamed to say I've had this one lingering for far too long but going on the better late than never concept it's one I'm happy to recommend. Bleu and Blaque prove to be interesting contrasts and not solely owing to their being vampire and werewolf. They are two characters I would happily revisit.
An American friend has been reading Notes from a Small Island, and The Road to Little Dribbling, by Bill Bryson. Again, the first has been sitting in 'the pile' for far too long so I've read one and have just purchased and started the second. My American friend's take is that it was that, though enjoyable, it was difficult at times to decipher between the humour and straightforward complaining and there were a few moments when I took this point on board. I was surprised by how far Bill Bryson walked, and have to admit his way of touring wouldn't be my preference having read even a portion of these books. I'm sure I'd want to spend longer in some areas, less in others, and some I wouldn't want to visit at all, and while 'wandering at will' seems enticing I'd do more research into my intended stops. The books, though, remain a delightful look into the British way of life particularly for those who don't know the UK so well…with one word of warning. The politeness and attitudes Bryson encountered in the first book have flagged somewhat. I've only just begun the second book and it will be interesting to see if Bryson has also noted any such changes since he first perambulated the UK.
Overall, the year has been pretty disappointing reading-wise so I'm happy to finish with two highlights both picked up for intended Christmas reading. My first is The Martian, by Andy Weir. Having seen the film three times, I was interested in reading the book and would recommend anyone who liked the film to do the same. I've seen both have had their usual share of mixed reviews, but I'm amazed how anyone can fail to appreciate the research and science-made-interesting portions of the book, the added details of which exceed those in the film, is beyond me. Sure, the ending in both the book but especially the film is far-fetched. It's FICTION. I'm one of many who does not understand this current inclination to dismiss fiction that is implausible. Many occurrences in life are implausible and fiction by its very nature can achieve the impossible. I'm quite happy to suspend belief and to be entertained and maybe even learn a little in the process, or, if not, that's good, too. There is nothing wrong with sheer entertainment. For the writer that I am, it's interesting to note that I read Andy Weir first published the book as snippets on the web. To get the whole story without waiting, people had to buy the book…and then a publisher took it up, there's been a film and one hell of a success story about a man stranded on Mars -- the very definition of good fiction. The film…it's a good adaptation of a book given a Hollywood treatment that's not at all painful. Mild spoiler: It does have a more exciting and implausible ending, but this is only to be expected when a book is taken to film, as is the trimmed-down science behind the writing.
But my recommendation this year also happens to be my final read. A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman breaks the rule of 'show don't tell' yet is an easy read that is thoroughly entertaining, truthful, poignant, funny, moving, uplifting, and sad. It's painful and beautiful, which is the best type of storytelling.
I read a few light novels at the start of 2016 that aren't worth listing. In May I opened up Sunfail, by Steven Saville, an espionage tale that's decidedly plot-driven but which I enjoyed. I've seen one review calling it slick, and I agree. I also discovered Nigel Williams, my first read of his being R.I.P. I knew I was going to enjoy this the moment I read the opening line of the blurb: 'Retired bank manager George Pearmain is, apparently, dead.' This is a nicely humorous, sardonic read.
Joyland and a few of the Gunslinger Graphic novels was a visit by me to a longstanding and constant writer, Stephen King, followed by a Heart-Shaped Box by his son, Joe Hill. The title caught my attention and for the most part, I enjoyed the book, but not as much as my 2014 read of Horns. To me, a Heart-Shaped Box started out well but didn't go dark enough. What started out as a promising scare didn't quite hold its momentum or its thrills but it still earns a place on my bookshelves.
I started The Enchantment Emporium, by Tanya Huff while on holiday and was immediately captivated and added this writer to my list, purchasing the following two books to add to my to-be-read mountain. The stories are definitely aimed at women but contain enough various elements to hold my interest -- a blend of family issues, romance, and magic. The series had me at 'Dragons', of course.
Winter Tales is an anthology I had to check out because it features several writers including me. I found I was more taken with the stories in the beginning of the book and, therefore, exceedingly happy where mine was placed, but like with every anthology, each reader will have their own preferences. I still like a short story and a selection is always a good way to check out new talent.
The Unquiet was my latest read by John Connolly. Unfortunately, I am behind on his books simply because of that mountain awaiting my attention. I readily admit that. I've the next two in said pile.
The Wine of Angels was my first foray into the world of Phil Rickman and his character of Merrily Watkins. I liked the concept of a female priest thrown into small village intrigue and investigation and thoroughly enjoyed this book, the characters in the village and the writing. Alas, I didn't take to Merrily. I'm sure to read more of these titles but it's a bit like watching an episode of a favourite show where the supporting cast are stronger and more interesting than the lead. I hope this improves as the series continues.
Bleu/Blaque by Belinda McBride is worth mentioning for anyone looking for a m/m romance title. I'm ashamed to say I've had this one lingering for far too long but going on the better late than never concept it's one I'm happy to recommend. Bleu and Blaque prove to be interesting contrasts and not solely owing to their being vampire and werewolf. They are two characters I would happily revisit.
An American friend has been reading Notes from a Small Island, and The Road to Little Dribbling, by Bill Bryson. Again, the first has been sitting in 'the pile' for far too long so I've read one and have just purchased and started the second. My American friend's take is that it was that, though enjoyable, it was difficult at times to decipher between the humour and straightforward complaining and there were a few moments when I took this point on board. I was surprised by how far Bill Bryson walked, and have to admit his way of touring wouldn't be my preference having read even a portion of these books. I'm sure I'd want to spend longer in some areas, less in others, and some I wouldn't want to visit at all, and while 'wandering at will' seems enticing I'd do more research into my intended stops. The books, though, remain a delightful look into the British way of life particularly for those who don't know the UK so well…with one word of warning. The politeness and attitudes Bryson encountered in the first book have flagged somewhat. I've only just begun the second book and it will be interesting to see if Bryson has also noted any such changes since he first perambulated the UK.
Overall, the year has been pretty disappointing reading-wise so I'm happy to finish with two highlights both picked up for intended Christmas reading. My first is The Martian, by Andy Weir. Having seen the film three times, I was interested in reading the book and would recommend anyone who liked the film to do the same. I've seen both have had their usual share of mixed reviews, but I'm amazed how anyone can fail to appreciate the research and science-made-interesting portions of the book, the added details of which exceed those in the film, is beyond me. Sure, the ending in both the book but especially the film is far-fetched. It's FICTION. I'm one of many who does not understand this current inclination to dismiss fiction that is implausible. Many occurrences in life are implausible and fiction by its very nature can achieve the impossible. I'm quite happy to suspend belief and to be entertained and maybe even learn a little in the process, or, if not, that's good, too. There is nothing wrong with sheer entertainment. For the writer that I am, it's interesting to note that I read Andy Weir first published the book as snippets on the web. To get the whole story without waiting, people had to buy the book…and then a publisher took it up, there's been a film and one hell of a success story about a man stranded on Mars -- the very definition of good fiction. The film…it's a good adaptation of a book given a Hollywood treatment that's not at all painful. Mild spoiler: It does have a more exciting and implausible ending, but this is only to be expected when a book is taken to film, as is the trimmed-down science behind the writing.
But my recommendation this year also happens to be my final read. A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman breaks the rule of 'show don't tell' yet is an easy read that is thoroughly entertaining, truthful, poignant, funny, moving, uplifting, and sad. It's painful and beautiful, which is the best type of storytelling.
Friday, December 23, 2016
I came, I saw, I wrote Guest Spot
Sharon Ledwith was kind enough to feature me on her blog. Do drop by!
http://sharonledwith.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/author-sharon-bidwell-gets-into-holiday.html
http://sharonledwith.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/author-sharon-bidwell-gets-into-holiday.html
Monday, December 19, 2016
A little freebie for Christmas
A new series set after the 1968 Doctor Who serial The Web of Fear
follows the adventures of Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart spanning the four
years from when he was a colonel in the Scots Guards to his promotion to
brigadier and head of the UK branch of UNIT. Candy Jar Books brings
additional life to Lethbridge-Stewart, fully licensed by the executor of
the Haisman Literary Estate, Hannah Haisman, and endorsed by Henry
Lincoln. Whilst the series is not Young Adult fiction its intention is
to maintain that family-friendly feel balancing the classic with a sense
of modernity.
To get a feel for the series, visit Candy Jar Books offers and drop down to the bottom of the page for this year’s Christmas free download. Enjoy!
To get a feel for the series, visit Candy Jar Books offers and drop down to the bottom of the page for this year’s Christmas free download. Enjoy!
Monday, December 12, 2016
The Art of Compassion
We’ve forgotten the art of compassion.
When considering what to write for this week’s blog the subject of compassion seemed appropriate for this time of year. To begin, I want to transport you to an incident that to me remains vibrant.
This took place in 2008. We were off on holiday and making our way to East Anglia. It was a beautiful day in May. The sky was blue, the breeze was blowing into the car’s open windows, the birds were singing. We were relaxed and happy. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say I felt blessed and even the traffic crawling to a stop wasn’t enough to upset my good mood. The hold-up was short lived...as was my happy feeling.
A small black shape landed on the road in front, exhibiting every indication of happiness, hopping about excitedly and fluttering its wings. Before I could even gasp the car ahead rolled forward over the bird’s wing, squashing the bones, feathers and flesh into the tarmac leaving the bird both damaged and trapped.
Put yourself in this bird’s place. You’re going about your day-to-day business and something mashes a limb into the road so that you’re pinned, in pain, and cannot break free. The best you can hope for is another car to roll over you bringing about a quick death.
I flinched and was left feeling helpless and sick at heart. I could do nothing to help this creature. The only way to release it from the tarmac would have been to amputate its wing, something I was not capable of doing, and even then the poor thing was likely a short time from dying of shock.
All this because it landed in the wrong place at the wrong time. That could happen to anyone and any thing.
The husband patted my arm as though I was six years old, and while I didn’t need the comfort, he wasn't going to hear any complaints.
My reaction, my feelings for another creature even though its pain and demise had no impact on me or my life is the very definition of compassion.
The dictionary definition is sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others. Why are we not taught this in schools? Is it something parents no longer discuss? One of my favourite books as a child was The Water Babies because I loved the concepts of Mrsdoasyouwouldbedoneby and Mrsbedonebyasyoudid. Why is all this so absent from the world?
The driver of the car that ran over that bird could not have known the creature was on the road. The driver was not at fault. It was a mere accident. No one was to blame. These facts made what happened no less painful to witness, but here’s the thing. I can’t quote statistics but it would be eye-opening to know how many drivers would have run over the bird had they known it was under their wheels. I’ve also been witness to other instances where I’ve been directly involved; beeped because we’ve stopped for a rabbit in the road; seen a woman who had to turn her car to stop cars driving over a dog who had run out and been injured (in that particular incident we and one other driver ended up taking the dog to a vet even though we were no part of the accident). We see road-kill all the time, but when did we decide it’s okay to run over things even if they can be avoided? Indeed, why are there people in this world who would gladly aim the car and shout ‘score’ for a hit? Who is raising these despicable souls?
Of course, I’m not just talking about animals here or creatures on the road. We treat each other the same way. What kind of being does it take to knowingly run over a living creature when they don’t have to? To abuse a dog, a cat, a horse, or anything that breathes? When did society start to think it doesn't matter and so many to believe we can all do what we like without considering the impact on our friends, our families, our neighbours, society itself? Or to think it’s acceptable to walk by a woman on the road when she’s pleading for help having been hit by a car because ‘someone else will call the ambulance’ so there’s no reason to get involved (an actual story a temp apparently once confessed to a colleague in an office I worked in many years ago).
When I was growing up I was taught not to cause harm, to do unto others only as I wanted them to do unto me. That’s not to say be a pushover and accept abuse, but why be the cause? Why are so many so oblivious to the pain of others, and why do so many behave as if it’s perfectly acceptable for behaviour to be so reprehensible that we even have a modern reference to it, that of ‘Troll’?
Compassion: sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.
Take it on board.
When considering what to write for this week’s blog the subject of compassion seemed appropriate for this time of year. To begin, I want to transport you to an incident that to me remains vibrant.
This took place in 2008. We were off on holiday and making our way to East Anglia. It was a beautiful day in May. The sky was blue, the breeze was blowing into the car’s open windows, the birds were singing. We were relaxed and happy. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say I felt blessed and even the traffic crawling to a stop wasn’t enough to upset my good mood. The hold-up was short lived...as was my happy feeling.
A small black shape landed on the road in front, exhibiting every indication of happiness, hopping about excitedly and fluttering its wings. Before I could even gasp the car ahead rolled forward over the bird’s wing, squashing the bones, feathers and flesh into the tarmac leaving the bird both damaged and trapped.
Put yourself in this bird’s place. You’re going about your day-to-day business and something mashes a limb into the road so that you’re pinned, in pain, and cannot break free. The best you can hope for is another car to roll over you bringing about a quick death.
I flinched and was left feeling helpless and sick at heart. I could do nothing to help this creature. The only way to release it from the tarmac would have been to amputate its wing, something I was not capable of doing, and even then the poor thing was likely a short time from dying of shock.
All this because it landed in the wrong place at the wrong time. That could happen to anyone and any thing.
The husband patted my arm as though I was six years old, and while I didn’t need the comfort, he wasn't going to hear any complaints.
My reaction, my feelings for another creature even though its pain and demise had no impact on me or my life is the very definition of compassion.
The dictionary definition is sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others. Why are we not taught this in schools? Is it something parents no longer discuss? One of my favourite books as a child was The Water Babies because I loved the concepts of Mrsdoasyouwouldbedoneby and Mrsbedonebyasyoudid. Why is all this so absent from the world?
The driver of the car that ran over that bird could not have known the creature was on the road. The driver was not at fault. It was a mere accident. No one was to blame. These facts made what happened no less painful to witness, but here’s the thing. I can’t quote statistics but it would be eye-opening to know how many drivers would have run over the bird had they known it was under their wheels. I’ve also been witness to other instances where I’ve been directly involved; beeped because we’ve stopped for a rabbit in the road; seen a woman who had to turn her car to stop cars driving over a dog who had run out and been injured (in that particular incident we and one other driver ended up taking the dog to a vet even though we were no part of the accident). We see road-kill all the time, but when did we decide it’s okay to run over things even if they can be avoided? Indeed, why are there people in this world who would gladly aim the car and shout ‘score’ for a hit? Who is raising these despicable souls?
Of course, I’m not just talking about animals here or creatures on the road. We treat each other the same way. What kind of being does it take to knowingly run over a living creature when they don’t have to? To abuse a dog, a cat, a horse, or anything that breathes? When did society start to think it doesn't matter and so many to believe we can all do what we like without considering the impact on our friends, our families, our neighbours, society itself? Or to think it’s acceptable to walk by a woman on the road when she’s pleading for help having been hit by a car because ‘someone else will call the ambulance’ so there’s no reason to get involved (an actual story a temp apparently once confessed to a colleague in an office I worked in many years ago).
When I was growing up I was taught not to cause harm, to do unto others only as I wanted them to do unto me. That’s not to say be a pushover and accept abuse, but why be the cause? Why are so many so oblivious to the pain of others, and why do so many behave as if it’s perfectly acceptable for behaviour to be so reprehensible that we even have a modern reference to it, that of ‘Troll’?
Compassion: sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.
Take it on board.
Monday, December 05, 2016
Sixes
Today, I feel like visiting my past life of crime.
What happens when Irene comes face-to-face with a past enemy?
Stop by Shotgun Honey to indulge a wicked sense of righteousness.
What happens when Irene comes face-to-face with a past enemy?
Stop by Shotgun Honey to indulge a wicked sense of righteousness.
Monday, November 28, 2016
Wishes Do Come True
My latest news speaks for itself. Excuse the unseemly author squeal but HOW COOL IS THIS!!!!!
Sharon x
PRESS RELEASE 25/11/2016
Candy Jar Books is pleased to announce its latest brand new free story!
The Wishing Bazaar by Sharon Bidwell will be sent out to all subscription customers, and those who pre-order the forthcoming novel, Blood of Atlantis by Simon A Forward.
Sharon Bidwell was born in London on New Year’s Eve. She has been writing professionally for many years, with her first short story receiving praise for being “strong on characterisation, and quite literary, in terms of style”. Her work has appeared steadily in both print and electronic publications, such as Midnight Street, Aoife’s Kiss, Night To Dawn, and Radgepacket. She has written several romance novels under the name Sharon Maria Bidwell, including Snow Angel and A Not So Hollow Heart, as well as dark fiction under the name Sharon Kernow. She was propelled into the universe of Steampunk as one of the writers for Space: 1899 & Beyond, winning the approval of series creator and award-winning game designer, Frank Chadwick. She wrote three books in the series, one of which was co-authored with editor (and writer) Andy Frankham-Allen.The Wishing Bazaar is her first piece of Doctor Who related fiction.
Range Editor Andy Frankham-Allen says: “I first met Sharon via the wonderful world of social media back in, I think, 2009. I was very impressed with her work, and soon enlisted her for my Space: 1889 & Beyond series. Her work ethic was proven to me when a novella fell through at the last minute and she agreed to co-author a replacement with me – which we did, in only two weeks! Sharon’s first drafts are often better than a lot of published works out there, and from the off I told her that I would get her writing for the Lethbridge-Stewart series. She resisted for all of five minutes.”
Sharon says: “I've written for and with Andy before with great success, so I was not entirely surprised when he got in contact about his latest project. For one thing, he'd been 'hinting' for some time that he wanted to rope me in and Andy isn't someone who understands no as an answer.Whenever I hear from Andy, I never know whether to cheer or groan. All those who write novels for well-known television shows now have my utmost respect. Some find it easy; for others the experience feels difficult and involves a lot of angst. I'm one of those worriers. Despite the responsibility, Andy has dragged me into incredible worlds and stories that are part of history and there's no way not to be grateful for that.Invariably the experience of writing for Lethbridge-Stewart was, for me, daunting, exciting, fun, and adventurous…a bit like the character himself.”
Shaun Russell, head of publishing at Candy Jar, says: “Sharon was an unknown quantity for me, but I knew that Andy had worked with her before, so I was more than happy to see what she’d come up with. Having read her short story, and looked up her other work, I now believe she’s going to be a wonderful addition to our stable of authors on this series.”
This story is set between Times Squared and Blood of Atlantis.
Blurb: Back from New York, Lethbridge-Stewart is investigating one of the strangest cases that has come across his desk yet. Wishes are coming true, and if there’s one thing Lethbridge-Stewart still doesn’t believe in it’s magic. But what if he’s wrong?
The cover of The Wishing Bazaar is by regular cover artist, Richard Young. Richard says:“I adore working with Candy Jar, and their cover briefs are always so specific, but this one was rather ambiguous as there were several elements that I could have used on the cover. I decided to concentrate on the alien of the piece.One passage of the story mentioned its burning eyes. Using a combination of traditional drawing and then colourisation in Photoshop (to really get the blazing eyes right), this is what I came up with.And I'm pleased to say everyone loved it.”
The Wishing Bazaar will be sent out to every person who pre-orders Blood of Atlantis (as a single book, or as part of our bundle/subscription offers).
Blood of Atlantis can be pre-ordered individually, or as part of the Series 3 Bundle (both UK and overseas), which includes the previous novel, Times Squared by Rick Cross, and the forthcoming novel,Mind of Stone by Iain McLaughlin, or the subscription deal for those wishing to get six books for the price of five.
Candy Jar is pleased to announce that the subscription offer is now being extended to international customers. Please see http://www.candy-jar.co.uk/books/subscriptions.html for more details.
Candy Jar is also offering a special promotion for its online customers. Buy Blood of Atlantis for £8.99 and get Times Squared for £5. This promotion also applies to six other Candy Jar titles. Please see http://www.candy-jar.co.uk/books/offers.html for more details.
For more information, or to arrange an interview with the editor, authors, cover artist and/or license holder, please contact Shawn Russell at shaun@candyjarbooks.co.uk or 02921 15720
Lethbridge-Stewart series 1
The Forgotten Son by Andy Frankham-Allen
The Schizoid Earth by David A McIntee
Beast of Fang Rock by Andy Frankham-Allen
Mutually Assured Domination by Nick Walters
Lethbridge-Stewart series 2:
Moon Blink by Sadie Miller
The Showstoppers by Jonathan Cooper
The Grandfather Infestation by John Peel
Lethbridge-Stewart series 3:
Times Squared by Rick Cross
Blood of Atlantis by Simon A Forward
Mind of Stone by Iain McLaughlin
Sharon x
PRESS RELEASE 25/11/2016
LETHBRIDGE-STEWART
PRE-ORDER FREE STORY
Candy Jar Books is pleased to announce its latest brand new free story!
The Wishing Bazaar by Sharon Bidwell will be sent out to all subscription customers, and those who pre-order the forthcoming novel, Blood of Atlantis by Simon A Forward.
Sharon Bidwell was born in London on New Year’s Eve. She has been writing professionally for many years, with her first short story receiving praise for being “strong on characterisation, and quite literary, in terms of style”. Her work has appeared steadily in both print and electronic publications, such as Midnight Street, Aoife’s Kiss, Night To Dawn, and Radgepacket. She has written several romance novels under the name Sharon Maria Bidwell, including Snow Angel and A Not So Hollow Heart, as well as dark fiction under the name Sharon Kernow. She was propelled into the universe of Steampunk as one of the writers for Space: 1899 & Beyond, winning the approval of series creator and award-winning game designer, Frank Chadwick. She wrote three books in the series, one of which was co-authored with editor (and writer) Andy Frankham-Allen.The Wishing Bazaar is her first piece of Doctor Who related fiction.
Range Editor Andy Frankham-Allen says: “I first met Sharon via the wonderful world of social media back in, I think, 2009. I was very impressed with her work, and soon enlisted her for my Space: 1889 & Beyond series. Her work ethic was proven to me when a novella fell through at the last minute and she agreed to co-author a replacement with me – which we did, in only two weeks! Sharon’s first drafts are often better than a lot of published works out there, and from the off I told her that I would get her writing for the Lethbridge-Stewart series. She resisted for all of five minutes.”
Sharon says: “I've written for and with Andy before with great success, so I was not entirely surprised when he got in contact about his latest project. For one thing, he'd been 'hinting' for some time that he wanted to rope me in and Andy isn't someone who understands no as an answer.Whenever I hear from Andy, I never know whether to cheer or groan. All those who write novels for well-known television shows now have my utmost respect. Some find it easy; for others the experience feels difficult and involves a lot of angst. I'm one of those worriers. Despite the responsibility, Andy has dragged me into incredible worlds and stories that are part of history and there's no way not to be grateful for that.Invariably the experience of writing for Lethbridge-Stewart was, for me, daunting, exciting, fun, and adventurous…a bit like the character himself.”
Shaun Russell, head of publishing at Candy Jar, says: “Sharon was an unknown quantity for me, but I knew that Andy had worked with her before, so I was more than happy to see what she’d come up with. Having read her short story, and looked up her other work, I now believe she’s going to be a wonderful addition to our stable of authors on this series.”
This story is set between Times Squared and Blood of Atlantis.
Blurb: Back from New York, Lethbridge-Stewart is investigating one of the strangest cases that has come across his desk yet. Wishes are coming true, and if there’s one thing Lethbridge-Stewart still doesn’t believe in it’s magic. But what if he’s wrong?
The cover of The Wishing Bazaar is by regular cover artist, Richard Young. Richard says:“I adore working with Candy Jar, and their cover briefs are always so specific, but this one was rather ambiguous as there were several elements that I could have used on the cover. I decided to concentrate on the alien of the piece.One passage of the story mentioned its burning eyes. Using a combination of traditional drawing and then colourisation in Photoshop (to really get the blazing eyes right), this is what I came up with.And I'm pleased to say everyone loved it.”
The Wishing Bazaar will be sent out to every person who pre-orders Blood of Atlantis (as a single book, or as part of our bundle/subscription offers).
Blood of Atlantis can be pre-ordered individually, or as part of the Series 3 Bundle (both UK and overseas), which includes the previous novel, Times Squared by Rick Cross, and the forthcoming novel,Mind of Stone by Iain McLaughlin, or the subscription deal for those wishing to get six books for the price of five.
Candy Jar is pleased to announce that the subscription offer is now being extended to international customers. Please see http://www.candy-jar.co.uk/books/subscriptions.html for more details.
Candy Jar is also offering a special promotion for its online customers. Buy Blood of Atlantis for £8.99 and get Times Squared for £5. This promotion also applies to six other Candy Jar titles. Please see http://www.candy-jar.co.uk/books/offers.html for more details.
-END-
For more information, or to arrange an interview with the editor, authors, cover artist and/or license holder, please contact Shawn Russell at shaun@candyjarbooks.co.uk or 02921 15720
Lethbridge-Stewart series 1
The Forgotten Son by Andy Frankham-Allen
The Schizoid Earth by David A McIntee
Beast of Fang Rock by Andy Frankham-Allen
Mutually Assured Domination by Nick Walters
Lethbridge-Stewart series 2:
Moon Blink by Sadie Miller
The Showstoppers by Jonathan Cooper
The Grandfather Infestation by John Peel
Lethbridge-Stewart series 3:
Times Squared by Rick Cross
Blood of Atlantis by Simon A Forward
Mind of Stone by Iain McLaughlin
Monday, November 14, 2016
Being Busy, the art of Tinkering, and Screaming
I came across this post from 2012 and repeat it here now almost word
for word as I wrote it then. This year is different. I am writing. I
have been doing lots of editing and I've more of both ahead of me. I've
not done anywhere near enough promotion and those 'life' annoyances are
different but still very prevalent, maybe more so. Part of me wants to
sum up the entire post into a single sentence: I'm a writer and I'm
forever busy:
A friend sent me a text last night: "I hope the writing is going well." I had to reply that I'm not writing. I haven't been for...well, I'm not sure. Several days, maybe three or four weeks, and it's starting to annoy me. I've found a moment here and there to 'tinker' but not to write, although that's not entirely true either.
I've 'tinkered' with a bit of story, but not had time to sit down and truly write so in that sense I've hardly written a word. On the other hand, I've written plenty. I've had edits. I've written long-overdue emails. I've three works out in December so have written blurbs and promo, and typed my book details everywhere I can think of, and written blog posts for places I'm hoping to show up at to pontificate about my books or the writing process that created them for anyone who has asked me, or cares to read them. And sometimes just to say hi -- to connect with other writers and readers and thank them for their support, understanding, and lovely words and messages.
This is another side of 'writing' and I've had lots of that to be going on with, but I've also spent some time out to attend to daily 'life'. Much as I'd like to claim otherwise, we all have them, these daily lives, and maybe that's a good thing -- keeps a person grounded. I've a relative in the hospital, the extension roof sprung a leak, and I've done some shopping, some of which I can't avoid as we head towards Christmas. I will have a Christmas run of presents to attend to, and I have parcels to pack up, post off or deliver. I have cards to write, and a yearly letter to put together for those I have and haven't neglected equally -- either way it will be a chance for them to catch up on what is happening at 'our house'.
I'm...deep breath...busy, but in that, I can't say this time is all that different to any other time. I'm always busy, because when I've ticked off all the things on my current to-do list, there will be another one to attend to, and another one, and another after that. It doesn't stop. It's part of writing, living this double life, and sure, sometimes it's part of any normal life, too, but having all this going on occasionally means I procrastinate and tinker a bit with something trivial because it stops me from screaming aloud, which will only earn me strange looks and speculative whispers. And if there ever should be a time when I'm not busy... As if that's going to happen. I'll still be occupied because what writers do when they're not busy is get busy writing. See how that works?
Still, I'm getting antsy and I'm longing for the moment -- and it will arrive this week -- when I sit down and begin work on something. It may be something that needs editing -- it may be old or new, may require a complete re-write, or may be ticking over quietly in a dormant brain cell for now, but I've reached a point where if I don't write 'story' it's quite possible you'll hear me screaming.
A friend sent me a text last night: "I hope the writing is going well." I had to reply that I'm not writing. I haven't been for...well, I'm not sure. Several days, maybe three or four weeks, and it's starting to annoy me. I've found a moment here and there to 'tinker' but not to write, although that's not entirely true either.
I've 'tinkered' with a bit of story, but not had time to sit down and truly write so in that sense I've hardly written a word. On the other hand, I've written plenty. I've had edits. I've written long-overdue emails. I've three works out in December so have written blurbs and promo, and typed my book details everywhere I can think of, and written blog posts for places I'm hoping to show up at to pontificate about my books or the writing process that created them for anyone who has asked me, or cares to read them. And sometimes just to say hi -- to connect with other writers and readers and thank them for their support, understanding, and lovely words and messages.
This is another side of 'writing' and I've had lots of that to be going on with, but I've also spent some time out to attend to daily 'life'. Much as I'd like to claim otherwise, we all have them, these daily lives, and maybe that's a good thing -- keeps a person grounded. I've a relative in the hospital, the extension roof sprung a leak, and I've done some shopping, some of which I can't avoid as we head towards Christmas. I will have a Christmas run of presents to attend to, and I have parcels to pack up, post off or deliver. I have cards to write, and a yearly letter to put together for those I have and haven't neglected equally -- either way it will be a chance for them to catch up on what is happening at 'our house'.
I'm...deep breath...busy, but in that, I can't say this time is all that different to any other time. I'm always busy, because when I've ticked off all the things on my current to-do list, there will be another one to attend to, and another one, and another after that. It doesn't stop. It's part of writing, living this double life, and sure, sometimes it's part of any normal life, too, but having all this going on occasionally means I procrastinate and tinker a bit with something trivial because it stops me from screaming aloud, which will only earn me strange looks and speculative whispers. And if there ever should be a time when I'm not busy... As if that's going to happen. I'll still be occupied because what writers do when they're not busy is get busy writing. See how that works?
Still, I'm getting antsy and I'm longing for the moment -- and it will arrive this week -- when I sit down and begin work on something. It may be something that needs editing -- it may be old or new, may require a complete re-write, or may be ticking over quietly in a dormant brain cell for now, but I've reached a point where if I don't write 'story' it's quite possible you'll hear me screaming.
Monday, November 07, 2016
The Seeker
To start with a summation, I’ll say this book (by Andy
Frankham-Allen) is absorbing and satisfying. Initially, I didn’t feel
that this was going to be the case. At the risk of the author’s wrath, I
confess it took me more than a few pages to get into this story. That
isn’t to say my attention wandered; I simply didn’t find it gripping,
but I quickly accepted I probably opened the pages with more than a
little bias, and the fault lies with me, not the writer. Knowing the
author’s style my already active imagination worked overtime with
anticipation, for I’ve been waiting for this book for more than a little
while. The pace at the start was steady but a little slower than I was
expecting. However, that’s my one and only negative and it’s a small
one. I found the book increasingly absorbing.
I should say I’m going to be sharing a publisher with the author and our paths have crossed in writing circles enough to call each other friends. After reading The Seeker we eventually went on to write a book together for the series Space 1889. It says a lot of Andy's tenacity that he talked me into co-authoring. However, if a writing acquaintance pens a book that I dislike, I simply never review it. Neither do I review all the books I do like, but I keep my evaluations generally for books that speak to me on some deeper level of enjoyment that makes the book a keepsake. The Seeker, book one of four in The Garden series, is such a book.
Absorbing and satisfying is the only description that fits the gradual expansion that made every distraction in my life irritating. By the time I reached halfway I’d find myself suddenly thinking of Willem and wonder what was happening to him as if his life hadn’t ‘paused’ while the book lay shut, but continued between the closed pages. That felt unacceptable; I wanted to be reading.
Willem is both a businessman and loving uncle, with much in his life to be thankful for including a long-standing friendship with his best mate, Jake. That’s not to say that Will’s life is without stresses and seeing Jake at long last appears to be getting serious with his latest girlfriend, Will decides to take a chance and follow what began as an internet romance to its logical conclusion, to meet up with the person he’s only known online. From here what happens after Will disappears leads the reader into a clever reworking of mythology extending back to ancient Egypt. As I immersed deeper into this supernatural world that exists in the undercurrents of our own, that initial steady pace began to make sense. One needs to fully know and understand Will to make what happens to him all the more involving.
It’s been a while since I read a book where I loved almost all the characters, both ‘good’ and ‘bad’ and ached equally for them. There is much manipulation and secretive agendas that make the line between antagonist and victim blur, as do the lines of sexuality. Although Will is gay, this is not a homosexual novel, and it would be a tremendous pity if anyone dismissed the reading of it as anything less than it is -- an engrossing narrative bringing new life to the vampire mythos that could equally interest vampire aficionados as well as those with no particular liking for the subject.
This is and isn’t a vampire book, just as it is and isn’t so many other things, but rather a satisfying blend, a commingling of old and new, the future and the past, complexities of relationships, love and hate. One is left feeling that these characters are all being moved like pawns in some great game where some fundamental rule or ‘truth’ is missing. Those who believe they are following a line of destiny are as helpless as a newly rebirthed upyr of the story. I hurt for Frederick in an almost equal way as I did Willem. In this expert way, the author humanises the villains of the piece, making the reader care even when a twinge of betrayal or guilt accompanies the feelings, for Willem remains the central pivot that wreaks havoc with the emotions, both with the other characters in the story and in turn with the person turning the pages.
Unusually for a book in a series, I have to agree with another reviewer who commented on the truly great ending, calling it both subtle and powerful. I’d like to add another word to that: perfect. It’s the perfect end at the perfect moment. I feel content enough to leave the story for now, and let the events I’ve learned so far percolate...with anticipation.
You can check out Andy's Amazon page where you will see The Seeker has two covers but this is the latest:
I should say I’m going to be sharing a publisher with the author and our paths have crossed in writing circles enough to call each other friends. After reading The Seeker we eventually went on to write a book together for the series Space 1889. It says a lot of Andy's tenacity that he talked me into co-authoring. However, if a writing acquaintance pens a book that I dislike, I simply never review it. Neither do I review all the books I do like, but I keep my evaluations generally for books that speak to me on some deeper level of enjoyment that makes the book a keepsake. The Seeker, book one of four in The Garden series, is such a book.
Absorbing and satisfying is the only description that fits the gradual expansion that made every distraction in my life irritating. By the time I reached halfway I’d find myself suddenly thinking of Willem and wonder what was happening to him as if his life hadn’t ‘paused’ while the book lay shut, but continued between the closed pages. That felt unacceptable; I wanted to be reading.
Willem is both a businessman and loving uncle, with much in his life to be thankful for including a long-standing friendship with his best mate, Jake. That’s not to say that Will’s life is without stresses and seeing Jake at long last appears to be getting serious with his latest girlfriend, Will decides to take a chance and follow what began as an internet romance to its logical conclusion, to meet up with the person he’s only known online. From here what happens after Will disappears leads the reader into a clever reworking of mythology extending back to ancient Egypt. As I immersed deeper into this supernatural world that exists in the undercurrents of our own, that initial steady pace began to make sense. One needs to fully know and understand Will to make what happens to him all the more involving.
It’s been a while since I read a book where I loved almost all the characters, both ‘good’ and ‘bad’ and ached equally for them. There is much manipulation and secretive agendas that make the line between antagonist and victim blur, as do the lines of sexuality. Although Will is gay, this is not a homosexual novel, and it would be a tremendous pity if anyone dismissed the reading of it as anything less than it is -- an engrossing narrative bringing new life to the vampire mythos that could equally interest vampire aficionados as well as those with no particular liking for the subject.
This is and isn’t a vampire book, just as it is and isn’t so many other things, but rather a satisfying blend, a commingling of old and new, the future and the past, complexities of relationships, love and hate. One is left feeling that these characters are all being moved like pawns in some great game where some fundamental rule or ‘truth’ is missing. Those who believe they are following a line of destiny are as helpless as a newly rebirthed upyr of the story. I hurt for Frederick in an almost equal way as I did Willem. In this expert way, the author humanises the villains of the piece, making the reader care even when a twinge of betrayal or guilt accompanies the feelings, for Willem remains the central pivot that wreaks havoc with the emotions, both with the other characters in the story and in turn with the person turning the pages.
Unusually for a book in a series, I have to agree with another reviewer who commented on the truly great ending, calling it both subtle and powerful. I’d like to add another word to that: perfect. It’s the perfect end at the perfect moment. I feel content enough to leave the story for now, and let the events I’ve learned so far percolate...with anticipation.
You can check out Andy's Amazon page where you will see The Seeker has two covers but this is the latest:
Monday, October 31, 2016
Happy Halloween
Last year I took part in the 'Howloween' Blog Hop. Unfortunately,
owing to an update of my site I've lost that particular post, but I did
note the contents. When discussing all things unnerving, it occurred to
me there are many things ‘scary’ about writing. One of those is the fear
there will come a day when someone devours all the plot bunnies. Often
the writer struggles to kick the furry little blighters back because
they're rampaging and demanding attention as much as any zombie on the
march for brains. I'm sure my bunnies have nasty sharp teeth and claws
-- they sure enjoy nipping at my ankles -- but many ask the question:
where do they come from? So let's concentrate on the scary ‘how’ and
‘howl’ of plots. How does one make the magic happen?
I doubt there’s a writer in existence who won’t one day be asked, “Where do you get your ideas?” There is no spell book. No magic shop one can go to. Authors wish there were, but in some ways ideas are conjured up out of thin air. A writer is someone who can connect two or more seemingly dissociated events, can play the ‘what if’ game, and maybe add an extra twist.
Here is a brief example. I wove my short story Bitter and Intoxicating for the anthology Red Velvet and Absinthe (editor Mitzi Szereto; foreword by Kelley Armstrong) in answer to a submission call for gothic erotic romance. Although a list of example work was given, I didn’t have anything written that fitted, and worse, I had no ideas. I went online and began running searches for red, velvet, and for absinthe. Although the stories didn’t need to have anything to do with these items, I needed a place from which to start. I certainly didn’t expect to write anything on those topics. I was just searching for a spark.
I came across a painting by Albert Maignan, La Muse Verte, which seemed a good portrayal of what the effects of absinthe was supposed to have on the artistic mind. Inspiration! What if a distraught painter came across a seductive woman in a bar, one with flaming red hair clad in a diaphanous green gown, and she was to take him home to try absinthe promising that it would be the answer to all his woes? The resulting story is part BDSM, part gothic horror, part sensuous seduction ‘painted’ with words -- something fitting to read on a dark October night in front of the fire with the wind blowing outside.
I doubt there’s a writer in existence who won’t one day be asked, “Where do you get your ideas?” There is no spell book. No magic shop one can go to. Authors wish there were, but in some ways ideas are conjured up out of thin air. A writer is someone who can connect two or more seemingly dissociated events, can play the ‘what if’ game, and maybe add an extra twist.
Here is a brief example. I wove my short story Bitter and Intoxicating for the anthology Red Velvet and Absinthe (editor Mitzi Szereto; foreword by Kelley Armstrong) in answer to a submission call for gothic erotic romance. Although a list of example work was given, I didn’t have anything written that fitted, and worse, I had no ideas. I went online and began running searches for red, velvet, and for absinthe. Although the stories didn’t need to have anything to do with these items, I needed a place from which to start. I certainly didn’t expect to write anything on those topics. I was just searching for a spark.
I came across a painting by Albert Maignan, La Muse Verte, which seemed a good portrayal of what the effects of absinthe was supposed to have on the artistic mind. Inspiration! What if a distraught painter came across a seductive woman in a bar, one with flaming red hair clad in a diaphanous green gown, and she was to take him home to try absinthe promising that it would be the answer to all his woes? The resulting story is part BDSM, part gothic horror, part sensuous seduction ‘painted’ with words -- something fitting to read on a dark October night in front of the fire with the wind blowing outside.
From Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository
Monday, October 17, 2016
Tired of Adulting
As children we often feel put-upon because the adults are the ones who
make ‘our’ decisions. This is not helped by the numerous times these
restrictions come without an explanation. Children feel victimised,
unfairly treated. At times, they are bullied by other children, and in
worse cases, by parents and teachers. We hear, or imagine, how great it
is to be an adult. Being ‘adult’ represents freedom. This is
strengthened by being told, “Well, when you’re an adult you’ll be able
to make your own decisions.”
Adults are liars. People are born into a world where they are never
free. They are born into a world with expectations. That’s not entirely a
bad thing -- I do believe in a certain standard of social and ethical
responsibility, but it’s why money can be the root of all evil. Money
represents a kind of freedom most of us will never obtain, never
appreciate. It’s not so much about what we can buy, or what we can own.
It’s not even about not having to do as we’re told. It’s about not
having to do as we’re told, unjustly.
'Adults' everywhere, I hug you.
Images from memepile. If aware of any copyright breaches, please advise.
Children and adults bully children. Adults and children bully adults.
Children look at adults and see them as having all the power, when the
truth is most adults will never have the power at all. Adults remain
children. It’s just that some are better at hiding it. Some ooze
confidence but in their darkness hours they are still children. We all
need a cuddle sometime. We all wish someone else could be the adult for a
day. We all just keep plodding along, doing the best we can. We learn
our parents were 'winging it', faking it, 'putting on a brave
face'...and maybe that's the true definition. Maybe in that regard I
excel at being 'adult'. I'm still tired some days. And it is on those
days where creativity is many a person's survival mechanism.
Images from memepile. If aware of any copyright breaches, please advise.
Monday, October 10, 2016
Make Good Art
A must watch for any creative person out there. Grab a beverage of choice and settle down for 20 minutes.
Neil Gaiman Addresses the University of the Arts Class of 2012 from The University of the Arts (Phl) on Vimeo.
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