Rescued Cliche

I managed to salvage the Tarantella story from the old hard drive. Sometimes you think you have a wonderful opening and invariably it gets changed before you're finished. It is almost as if the parts of your own writing you love have to excised from the script - if you love something set it free. Reviewing the 'great' piece whose loss I was traumatised by it now seems it may be a little cliched. Fortunately, it is the voice of the narrator not the author, so it may, just may betray some character if it remains. See what you think:

"The problem with the 21st century is that everything has already been done. Every procession of notes, or arrangement of proteins, has been sequenced and synthesised, protected and patented, purloined and pirated. Every nook has been explored, every people exploited. Each resource has been near exhausted, every species has been near extinct. In short, there is nothing new under the sun."

It is good to be writing again. It seems so fleeting the time I get to do it these days. But I still feel the restless yearning building inside me to go through the pains of creation. Nothing satisfies it like a blank page filled with crafted text. I'd love to be a musician or a painter, even photography is good. But as much as I'm sure I could and can. The time isn't there and frankly they don't hit the spot.

Norwegian Blue

Last Monday I came home to find my PC trying to boot up. This was a little odd as it was switched off when I left. I fiddled about but nothing I could do could induce it to switch on. After a lot of diagnosis the next day, including buying a new power supply (which I no longer need - if you're interested), it was pronounced dead at 1200 hours. It was a little like mourning a friend. That computer got me through a lot of the last year as my window on the world and my source of entertainment. No wonder it was worn out. The unusual heat finally did it in along with a failing power supply. Crispy chips are nice when they aren't silicon.

Today I'm waiting for its replacement to arrive. Not something I'd planned on getting as I crawl out of debt induced by unemployment and exacerbated by having to pay huge repair bills on my car. It cost me the same amount as the number of the beast. I choose to think of this as an amusing omen for good.

Fortunately, I had done a backup not long before and so most of my data is safe and recoverable. All that I really need from the harddrive, if it still works, is my savegames and and the story I'd started working on.

I don't know if this will make it into Adocentyn, but I'm imagining it set during a holiday my narrator/hero has and perhaps the first glimmer that his childhood is catching up with him. Taking place in the deep south of Italy, I'm taking an almost voodoo spin on the Tarantella; a dance once done to rid young women of the poisonous effects of the bites of a Tarantula. I think I've got it mapped out, but I wrote a great opening paragraph extolling the ennui of the early 21st century. While a re-write may do it good, sometimes you never capture the same intent twice.

Comical Ali

Remember the information minister for Iraq who spent a lot of time denying the Coalition of the Willing were making any headway into Iraq while huge explosions happened right behind him?

I was reminded of him today when I was listening to the radio and heard the Israeli ambassador to the UN reject a call for a truce to allow aid into Lebanon because Hezbollah are trying to create a humanitarian disaster...

Guernica

It is a bit of a mystery to me how after one military force attacks another (usually considered a 'legitimate' target) this justifies the 'precision' bombing of an entire country and specifically the civilians.

Meanwhile the people supplying the arms just sit back and watch the show.

Saddle Up

Much of my work seems to occur at just the right time that a similar wave crops up in the media in general. Enoch's Vault takes Biblical mysteries and the whole 'alternate history' research that we see in The DaVinci Code et al. Primero, is an alternate Bond/spy story, just as there is an upsurge in these.

I'm not claiming to be in tune with the Mode of the Monde, in fact this is the problem. Someone, somewhere, decided two years before that these things would be good to publish, or make into film. So you need to either make the wave or be in the right place at the right time.

I'm back working on my misunderstood magnum opus Adocentyn. There are, I guess, the usual fantasy moments in the book, and they'll be tinged with that religious faith quest thing I seem to do, that yearning for touching the divine. I mean, it is a self styled Gnostic parable after all. Will this be good enough/ different enough? I dunno. El seems to think so and she has a gravity of opinion that outweighs most.

Here's a bit I wrote recently that I really love:

The stairwell was an odd mixture of damp, mouldy patches, sometimes with disturbing fungal growths clinging to the wall, and dry, arid regions duned with dust. Both of them made my nose itch and I fought the urge to sneeze. I didn’t want to breathe in whatever might be floating in the air.

Just as curious, in these regions, were the creatures that inhabited them - spiders with tiny bodies and long legs that made them as big as my hand skittered over the deserts, while fat, anaemic slugs writhed amongst the mildew. I imagined a polarised war between these two forms of decay and prey. Dry rot versus wet corruption.

I don’t know, now, if I realised that same war was waging within me.

Migrating Cranes

Every afternoon, for the past three weeks, as I drive home from work, I have seen large, vehicle-based cranes heading west. I have begun to suspect that apart from a plan to slow down late-afternoon traffic on the 'M'8 the cranes are migrating west. Quite why is a puzzle to me, but I expect to see them standing forlornly in Saltcoats and Largs, arms raised and extended, mourning their inability to go further as the land has ended.

My Double-O Dee story was rejected by Farthing, no explanation besides an implication I'd not read their submission guidelines. I've just finished the edit on Primero after feedback from the GSFWC. Not sure where to pitch it next. Really, it is a choice between Interzone and something further afield.

Back Down T' Pit

My life as a full time writer is about to fade away for the time being, and let's be honest; it wasn't exactly paying the bills. So tomorrow I return to the 9-5 and am actually happy to be running my own company. Nothing like being the boss if you _have_ to work.

Meanwhile Adocentyn nears the 10,000 word mark and I've polished off Primero, and hope to start submitting that to various magazines soon as I research suitable ones.

The Enki And Enlil Show

You know how you suddenly have one of those meme particles beam into your head and suddenly it's like 'Ahhh' and followed by furious scribbling (if your hands can still do that).

Well there I was in the warm afterglow of that orgasmic moment of First Principle (and hell En Sof knows they're the only orgasmic moments I get these days), when I stumble onto Hal Duncan's Blog and find the bar steward has beaten me to it, cos he was up late. Puck and Jack, and Enlil and Enki, you bet (or is it Enki and Enlil, they're a bit like Ant and Dec). Sigh.

I better just stick with my Sufi stand-up Neural Din. And I'm beginning to think that Kitten Uzi and her Uzbek punk bank Uzi Kitten will turn up in Adocentyn. Poor Sec needs a girlfriend.

Having escaped Oblivion, I can now get back to writing, but The Movies turned up on my doorstep. Machinima here we come.

Eastercon, Eastern-con

The pre-Eastercon reading went well. Finally did an smaller extract from the Dee 007 prelude to Primed. Now I'm thinking maybe I should see if I can make it a full novel in its own right again. Plot inspiration may be helped by some research on my reading shelf.

I was lucky, as I seem to be these days, to get a ticket to Eastercon here in Glasgow. Much more relaxed and less hectic than Worldcon was last August. Strange how things have not changed much for me though. Still, the whole weekend was highlighted by me walking down the stairs from the mezzanine into the hotel bar, at about lunchtime on Friday, while a rather stunning woman, wearing green, was coming up them. She gave me the most wonderful smile (which threw me off guard). Turned out to be Justina Robson, one of the guests of honour. Now I bet she's married and confused me for someone else... ;-)

Anyway, started thinking about next years con, but I may be in Japan for a Kyudo tournament, and off course Worldcon in 2007 is also in Japan. Started looking at prices - Con £100 membership (very reasonable considering a taxi from Narita airport to Yokohama will be £150, think I'll try the train), Flight £700 (if it costs the same as ths year, can't book next year yet, damn it), Accomodation £550. And that is without any special room rates. So about £1400 quid before everything else, so budget about £2000. Experience of a lifetime - Priceless. But going to Japan twice in one year - better start saving, hmm and maybe working. Wonder if I can get a book finished and picked up in time for Aug 2007 publishing?

Fester and Ailin

If you ever see Podge and Rodge let me know, if you have the DVDs I'll buy them from you. But other than borrowing their namesakes for their folk duo, that's all they have in common with progress on Adocentyn.

I've been forging forward with this and hope to get the first third done before going back to revise the Primero starter with Dee. Having just started the point where our 'hero' begins to have his future shaped by the abuse he recieved, I'm coming up for some air.

I'm also having to be very disciplined as I have a copy of Oblivion and it is better/worse than crack.

We're doing a reading evening (well Mike is organsing it, the we in this is the members of the GSFWC) just before Eastercon, which is in Glasgow this year. Starts at 8pm in The Ingram Bar on Queen Street, on 13th April. I'll be reading something. Might be Clatty Pat's Needle, might not, depending on feedback and obstinancy on my part.

Vanarchy In The UK

Saw 'V For Vendetta' yesterday and my fears were fortunately futile. While, yes, it is watered down and some plot points being dropped become a nice in-joke (Birch talks about visiting the concentration camp and having a 'feeling' about how this would all turn out - I seem to recall he drops acid and trips his way to revelation about what happened there and where to find V). I actually found the film very moving with some wonderful scenes taken straight from the pages of the book. For a film adaptation, of this material, it was splendid.

Madimi

As soon as I start work on Adocentyn cursing Primed and my inability to get past the first chapter of the Dee section, something gives and I'm away. Instead of pulling teeth it is just flowing along nicely, so now I'm close to the end of the first draft.

I was pitching for about 10,000 words, but will probably get 6,000. I'm sure as the revisions go on this will swell up a bit more towards the target, but I always write tight. As soon as this draft is done I have to go back and change the dialogue into iambic pentameter. Glutton for punishment me.

Dancing In The Street

It's tommorrow (or maybe next year), you sleep rough in an old railway tunnel, or Victorian shops someone built a railway station over, you're young, angry, delinquent. What music (available now) is a good soundtrack to your life?

Crisis Averted

Not reported much on progress recently, mainly because there hasn't been any to report on.

I love the Dee/WWII project, and have averted a bigger problem by narrowing those into one work. However, as much as I liked it, it wasn't coming from the soul. And in the vacuum in steps Adocentyn.

Some of you will know that I've been struggling with a number of stories involving street kids and their own mythology. All in all not too pleasant and I've had real difficulty seeing how to realise it into anything, anything at all. The long sub-conscious gestation may have done it well. I have a sketchy outline and I have finally begun writing with a sense of enthusiasm. This will not be a joy to write in the normal sense and I actually hope to work on Primed as some kind of light relief from my own demons bubbling forth.

Here's another opening paragraph or two for Hal's critique:
"The last thing I remember my sister saying was something about man being everywhere in chains.
We were travelling north on our summer holiday. It was a gorgeous autumn day, the sun high in the blue sky, faint wisps of cloud minced along. The sun was a nice change as it had rained all the previous day as we drove from London to Glasgow. Now we were heading up the side of Loch Lomond.
I was gazing out over the fish scale water. My sister, Jo, was practising her manifesto on me, for when she got back to school. Most girls want to grow up to be a princess. Jo wanted to be the elected leader of the revolution.

Originally it started with the last two lines here first, I'm still playing. Never tried first person before either.

Candidate must have hands on sludge experience

A true line from a job ad today

Turn Left At Plymouth

I can't believe I'm watching live footage of a whale in the Thames. I'm pretty sure I'm not smoking crack, but there could have been something in the soap I used to wash the car earlier.

I thought I'd supply the joke for tonight's stand up in the headline.

Casino

Finally got started. Took out my spade and broke the ground. I've done about half of the first chapter so far. I don't know if this will pass Hal Duncan's first sentence critique test, but here's the first paragraph:

Dee, Mathematician, Magus, Spy, picks up the cards that he has been dealt. The good quality deck is of the Italian style. He has one card with seven gold coins, made with real gold leaf. The other depicts seven batons, sprouting leaves. “Numerus quarante huit,” he says, making his bid. He hasn’t been recognised yet, good. He places a few coins on the table in front of him and observes the reaction.

16th Century pulp, historical accuracy and adventure. Why did I do this to myself?

Closer

Well, finally finished the first draft of the outline. I'm going to do another pass and fill in some of the XXX and YYYs. Then I can work on filling it out in more detail while I get started on the opening Dee section. I've been itching to write this for soo long now, I almost don't want to start and disappoint myself.

Plot Apocalypse

I had something of a revelation on Tuesday evening in the pub. I could feel that light beaming out of the sky illuminating me.

Instead of getting stuck writing two WWII based stories with weird shit going on, why not combine them?! Suddenly all the issues I was having melted away, and now, a few days later, I'm close to a very rough outline. (Xxx meets Yyy. No, really! I know who they are, just was on a roll so couldn't be bothered stopping to look up the names.)

In so doing, it's like all the other issues I've had to contend with this year dissipated too. I even had a call about a job. Not an interview as such, but a step in the right direction.

So now we have witches, wizards, WWII, werewolves, mecha-Nazis, Kabbalah Prime bombs and Dr John Dee. Annoyingly, I can find to legitimate reason to include ninjas. Warrior-monks, no problemo. Ninjas, not yet.

There goes another rubber tree

I heard back from an agent yesterday and they decided they didn't wish to represent Enoch's Vault. So two down on this draft and er however many it is in total now. Obviously, I could be happier and wonder if I should devote myself more to the next one than worry about selling the last one. But that little flicker of hope still burns.

I may have been rejected again, but both of these recent rejections have not been 'sorry, your work stinks' more 'sorry, I don't think _I_ can promote this' and in the sense that the agent personally doesn't feel right for the book. You can't complain about that and you can't change your style or subject without writing a new book or developing naturally.

So I don't know. At least I have closure on the year, no loose ends. At that means a nice clean start to next year, which can only be better than this one was. Still I did finish a novel, twice. Was able to be a professional (if unpublished) writer at WorldCon and gave readings of work to audiences in LA and Edinburgh.

So chin up and have a good holiday. Hope you get what you need next year.