FREE for International Short Story Day

Yes, the longest day of the year is devoted to the shortest of stories. Happy summer solstice -- how are you spending the longest day of the year? I'm sharing some of my short stories that are available on the net for your reading pleasure, which ought to keep you busy a while:

“Homework.” Flash fiction. Necon E-Books. June 2012. Honourable mention, May Flash Contest.
“Twitter Wedding.” Poem. Asinine Poetry (Summer 2012).
“Just Waiting.” Short story. Near to the Knuckle, 5 June 2012.
“On seeking a place for a picnic.” Poem. Short Humour, 22 May 2012.
“Biscuits.” Flash fiction. Short Humour, May 2012. Also available at Postcard Shorts, May 2012.
“Bill is Dead.” Flash fiction. Pulp Metal Magazine, Spring 2012.
“Words.” Flash fiction/podcast. Dogcast 5: March 2012.
“Yuletide Feast.” Short story. Short-Story.Me: 21 Jan 2012.
“Mandrake Anthrax.” Short story. A Twist of Noir, 14 Dec 2011.
“A Charming Situation.” Short story. Written for the Sherlocking fan site: Scribd (Nov 2010).
“Touched by an Angel.” Short story. Kalkion (Jun 2010).
 “Wixey.” Flash fiction. Wild Violet 8.1 (2009).
“Fluorescence.” Short story. The Harrow (Jul 1008).
“Palakainen.” Short story. New World Finn 7.2 (Apr-Jun 2007): 4-6. Reprinted: Mythic Passages (Feb 2009).
“Sinikka Journeys North.” The Beltane Papers 25 (2001): 14-19. Reprinted: Mythic Passages (Feb/Mar 2004). Collected in Unikirja.

 ~and the one that started everything off

“Revelation.” The Official Clive Barker Page, www.clivebarker.com. Winner, MGM/United Artists/Clive Barker’s Lord of Illusions Short Story Contest, November 1995.

NEWS!

☼ The big news is the cover art for UNQUIET DREAMS, my forthcoming story collection from Tirgearr Publishing. I love the spooky gal in the hennin and the magpie OF COURSE! Judging by the reaction when I posted it on Facebook, folks dig it. I am quite bowled over by Mike (FREAKIN'!) Mignola saying, "Wow - great cover!" I tell you, Kem is floating on air with that praise. And the always generous Steve Bissette has given me a sweet pull quote (thanks!):

“Kate Laity’s Unquiet Dreams  is the long, deep plunge in the coldest quarry in the woods; the lingering look under the rotting wood at all the writhing life there; the stare into the abyss until one realizes something is staring back.”

☼ The lovely Maura trundled me out on a little jaunt to Kinvarra, Yeats' Tower and Coole Park, which was simply glorious. You can see the pictures beginning here. It was a magical day! Fitting as I took "unquiet dreams" from Yeats, I owed him a visit.

☼ A new poem up at the Short Humour Site: "Kingsley Amis in the Afterlife" -- be sure to check out Chloë's poems, too!

☼ My post "How to Write More" over at A Knife and A Quill seems to have hit a nerve, and I have an hilarious interview with Mr B where we do our best Morecambe and Wiseing. I have another writing gig to announce soon, the direct effect of ROOK CHANT. I don't want to jinx it, but everything's coming up Milhouse lately: I hope it lasts.

☼ I'm planning to migrate the blog over to the website, where you may notice I've been tinkering with the layout and the look. It would be advantageous to have everything in one place, though it's a bit of a wrench to shift from here where I've been for EIGHT years. I experimented by migrating the serial over to Kit's page and all seems well, though of course there are about ten times as many posts here. Fingers crossed it all goes smoothly.

Writer Wednesday: News

The pressing news is that ACTION: Pulse Pounding Tales Vol. 1 can be obtained for FREE today and tomorrow. This slamming collection offers jam-packed thrills from me, Mr B, editor Matt Hilton, Absolutely Kate, Col Bury, Richard Godwin, Graham Smith, David Barber and many many more. Highly recommended! Not just because I'm in it (though I'm quite fond of "Chickens" which gave me a chance to revisit Los Angeles) but because it's a lot old school non-stop action. As Crimesquad said in its review:


"This book should not be purchased by asthmatics or heavy smokers as it leaves a fit person breathless with excitement."

I had a wonderful trip with the lovely Maura and we both managed to write a lot between enjoying ourselves immensely. A proper write up tomorrow but I have oodles to catch up on with emails and whatnot, so you can get a sneak peak at some of the photos here, beginning with a lovely one out the window of Maura's folks' house.

It's always nice to return home to another new publication. My short "Just Waiting" (yes, it is named after a Fall song >_<) appears over at Near to the Knuckle. Drop by and give it a read, comment and feel free to share -- let me know what you think.

Over at A Knife & A Quill I am Staff Member of the Month :-) Luca gave me a great write up. I have some new reviews going up this week. Unlike some big name reviewers, we don't sneer at writers because of assumptions about genres (and don't get me started on the superannuated NYTimes and their growing idiocy).

Busy busy. Maura and I managed to get a good amount of writing done after attending 2D, so it wasn't all idling on the beach. More to report soon -- get a sneak peak over at the new publisher Fox Spirit!

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: A Gun for George

A Gun for George offers the new Walter Mitty for a 21st century.

Terry Finch is a frustrated pulp fiction author and eternal loner looking for brutal revenge on the mean streets of East Kent.

This short film offers a fascinating (and funny!) look at a few tropes that are instantly recognisable to any film fan. It has a vintage look, but takes place now(ish), deliberately mashing up past and present to embody those colliding impulses.

Hard-bitten, gritty, pulpy crime narratives: British television used to rule on this front, as Mr B has written about a few times here and there. It's a trend that's exploding again lately: tough, he-man grit, but it's often one that can seemingly only happen in fantasy -- either hedged around with nostalgia or set in an unquestioned past.

The appeal rests on the idea that average men, who once had the unquestioned assumption of male power and privilege, find that has been taken away or at least become complicated. Some blame the usual targets (women and minorities rather than patriarchy and capitalism), but these films and similar books show a world that many long for --  one with uncomplicated interactions where good triumphs over evil even if it has to bend the rules to do so (think Dirty Harry and Charles Bronson films). It's not purely a male fantasy.
 
However it has often been a genre without women, except as easily-discarded sex partners, dames to be rescued or mirrors for their manliness, and as well as one where the Other can be easily distinguished by visible markers (i.e. race or ethnicity). It's a genre I'm writing in a lot lately, so I'm intrigued by all this backward splashing of nostalgia and modernity. Sometimes it is deliberately set in the past (like my story "Chickens") but other times it's happening right now ("Bill is Dead"). It's about world building in either case: that's what a lot of mimetic fiction writers don't always get -- it's all about world building.* 

[Need I add that most of the writers I've met working in the genre are not like Terry Finch, fine gentlemen and ladies who play nice and prove generally kind and inclusive to everyone? Naah, you know that.]

Let me get back to the film (instead of writing what will probably be my next PCA presentation on gender and nostalgia in noir fiction judging by this >_<).  Yes, the film examines the place of the displaced 70s man of action. It's also hilarious! It's pure Dunning-Kruger in action (oh dear, another paper that wants to be written) because Terry Finch thinks he's really an awesome tough-guy writer and everything we see demonstrates that he is not.

East Kent Grit: what a lovely concept.

Best laugh perhaps comes when a doctor cautions him, "If you must write, do it away from the sick and the vulnerable." And his caravan! HAHAHAHA!

See the site for The Reprisalizer, Terry Fincher's pulp star ("Real Name: Bob Shuter"). While it's a bit neglected of late, it provides dead on, awesomely realistic creations of vintage pulpy goodness. The whole created world of Terry Finch shows such care and attention to detail. Wonderful!

See Todd's blog for the round-up of overlooked gems.

*One of the reasons I have to spend so much time getting my students to visualise the medieval world; without a lot of explanation, my students tend to see history as just now with a hat on (a funny medieval hat in that instance). A lot of mimetic fiction neglects world building and often readers assume they know the world in which a story takes place only to be brought up short when they stumble across something that doesn't fit their own experience.

Now in Print: Drunk on the Moon

Yes, it's true: Drunk on the Moon is now available in print, too. Those of you who've been putting off getting it because you don't read them fancy ebook whatchamajiggers can now retire to your boudoirs with a good ol' paperback of Mr B and the pack.

Here's a silly thing I wrote back in the day for Mr B's blog when I first wrote "It's a Curse":

In the Mind of the Wolf

  When Mr B asked me if I wanted to contribute to the Drunk on the Moon series, I knew I had to get into the head of the werewolf. How could I write from Roman Dalton's perspective if I had not lived in his world? I had to know him from the inside out. I immediately set up a plan to immerse myself in the wolf mind. I set my plan in motion leading up to the full moon.

  DAY ONE

  I listened to The Fall non-stop, The Infotainment Scam. Not only had I chosen the song "It's a Curse" as my touchstone, but I knew the hypnotic drone of Mark E. Smith's voice and the grinding pummeling of the music would help me reach the altered state I sought. After twenty-four hours without food or drink, just the steady beat on repeat I was feeling the effects. My hair grew, my nails sharpened. I began to drool. Right on schedule.

  DAY TWO

  I moved outside; the wolf must be wild. Fortunately I live right above a park. There's not much land, but there are hedges along the edge that I thought might provide enough cover for me. I crouched in the green border and watched the people. They were my prey. I had to know their weaknesses. They had many. And few defences. But as the sun set, they thinned out. Also, there was too much broken glass and SuperMac wrappers in the hedges. I needed another hunting ground.

  DAY THREE

  I moved to the cemetery. There was more cover there and since I had ripped off my clothes I needed to stay warm. Winter is harsh on the wolf. I chewed on a bone to sharpen my teeth. Despite my focus, they were not sufficiently lethal yet. The dead were good company. However, there was a shortage of victims. Perhaps a disaster of some kind would provide more fodder for the chase.

  DAY FOUR

  Memory sketchy. Trees scratchy. Dirt cold. Throat sore from howling. Running so far, so far. There were others. I was not alone. Something squeaked. Older woman made hand signals at me, sketching a five-pointed star. Bite marks on my flesh. I may have grown a tail, not sure.

  DAY FIVE: FULL MOON

  Blood. Flesh. Teeth. Profiteroles.

  DAY SIX: RECOVERY

  I returned indoors. Dressed and ate food that I had not killed myself. Got the computer out. Typed madly, in a trance. Remember nothing. Grammar inexcusable. Older woman reappeared; asking for recommendations of internet suppliers. Emailed story to Mr B. Slept for fourteen hours. Filed nails. Applied moisturizer. Brushed teeth. Remembered to use cutlery. Started a new story. Buried bones. Write more...

Writer Wednesday: Recommended

From pal Samuel Walker on Facebook: Dublin street art. What a great idea! I may need to do something similar. Hmmm, QR codes on promo postcards? Might be the way to go. You have checked out the QR code on the sidebar, right? Scroll down.

I thought today I would point you toward some things you ought to try from people I can heartily recommend. I keep saying the future of the internet belongs to "sifters": people who will sort through the dreck out there to show you the gold. So here we go:




I first knew Anne Billson from her sharp and insightful reviews of films; I don't always agree with her, but I would rush to read what she had to say about films like The Thing; reading her BFI book on that film kept me enraptured to the end of the Central Line, which fortunately was my destination that day. Then I realised she was the same Anne Billson who wrote Suckers. Want a different spin on vamps that's also delicious satire? Try it. Try all her books.




Mr B + Luca Veste + money goes to charity x good causes = what are you waiting for? Do you need to know it's got some of the best Brit Grit writers around? Well, it does. Get stuck in.




Another good cause: Vic Watson put this together. "The 'I Am Woman' campaign is about using our voices to help other women. To raise awareness of women across the planet who have in effect 'lost their voice' or had it taken away either through, fear, abuse, illness or war. We must speak for them until they can do it for themselves." Click on the picture for more.

 Don't forget: the 99¢ you pay for Burning Bridges on Amazon also goes to charity, and for the rest of May, Matt Hilton is siphoning off profits for ACTION: Pulse Pounding Tales to give to Help for Heroes.

Here's a lot of writers who take it upon themselves to do some good in the world and stand up for what's right. To their own cost in most cases: writers don't make much money, especially when you consider how long it takes to write a novel or even a short story. You write because you can't not write: and you give what you can because you can't not do that, too.

And all you Americans who think North Carolina's vote is "not your problem" -- please remember history: discrimination does not disappear of its own accord.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

-- MLK "Letter from Birmingham Jail," 16 April 1963

Six Sentence Sunday: Chickens

My latest publication is another crime story: yes, that seems to be my groove now. I'm even going to the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in July the better to network and immerse myself in the crime writing world. Should be fun, eh?

My story "Chickens" takes place in 1968, when a couple of Bakersfield irregulars decide to leave the farm behind and go mess with some hippies, the phenomenon they've learned about from watching the nightly news with the elder statesman of television, Walter Cronkite. Bonus appearance by Cal Worthington and his dog Spot!

I killed all the chickens the day I left. I'd have preferred to kill Maw but I wasn't ready at the time for a crime of such proportions and besides, I was looking forward to saying to Bud with a laugh, "I spent the morning chokin' chickens!" because I knew he'd laugh like he always does in that hee-haw kind of way. Maw always said he was half ass anyway (the only funny thing she ever said in her miserable life that I can recall) but I forgot to tell him because he was so excited about buggin' out to the smoggy wonderland.

"We're gonna get some girls," Bud said, hee-hawing a mile a minute as we pulled away from their farm. Dawn in Bakersfield, the most uninspiring sight a body can see anywhere in this great nation I am sure. The golden light just cast a beautiful glow on the stunted fields and ugly houses of mile after mile of failing farms and subsidized indolence...

Matt Hilton edited this monster-sized anthology -- nearly 300 pages of non-stop mayhem, including folks like my pal Mr B and Richard Godwin, Absolutely Kate, Col Bury, David Barber, Graham Smith and many many more. Chock full of action, just like it says on the tin -- er, cover. Vol 2 already in the planning stages. This is going to be big!

As usual, drop by to see all the Six Sunday offerings.

Writer Wednesday: Postcards, Bits & Bobs

The deadline is fast approaching for the inaugural Postcard Fiction Contest! Be sure to get your entries in the mail to me in order to be in the running for that $25 prize. Deadline is May 15, 2012.

I'm interviewed over at Vic Watson's blog about some of my current projects. Drop by, share, leave a comment and be sure to check out her other interviews.

I just got my author copy of ACTION!: Pulse Pounding Tales, Vol 1 which includes my story "Chickens": it's 1968 and some good ol' boys from Bakersfield decide to head down to the big city to mess around with the hippies they saw on Cronkite. Bonus appearance from Cal Worthington and his dog Spot! Editor Matt Hilton describes the genesis of this collection:

Back in the late 1970s and early 1980s I was reading books ‘borrowed’ from my father’s stack of dog-eared paperbacks, that he acquired through a read and share scheme with his friends. It seemed that my father and his pals all shared a love of action tales the likes of Don Pendleton’s ‘Mack Bolan’, Richard Sapir and Warren Murphy’s ‘Remo Williams’, or George G Gilman’s homegrown western books, ‘Edge’ or ‘Adam Steele’, or a Nick Carter: Killmaster book.

Those books were high-entertainment to me and I couldn’t get enough of them, or indeed Robert E Howard’s Conan series, or Lin Carter’s Thongor of Lemuria, or Karl Edward Wagner’s Kane. I loved my stories full of action and adventure, and it didn’t much matter to me where, when, or how the story unfolded. It was through reading those kinds of books that got me into writing. I wanted to emulate the kind of books that I loved to read.

Apparently he's had an avalanche of interest, so Matt's already planning a second volume (and maybe more). The book will be available within days. I'll let you know when it's up. I should tell you too, that for every sale in the first month of publication, Matt will match with a donation of 50p to 'Help For Heroes'. We can all do our bit to help our injured servicemen and women: fictional heroes helping the 'real' heroes.

Of course there's also my story "Horse Clock" in Burning Bridges: A Renegade Fiction Anthology. You can get it for free on Smashwords, or you can get it for 99¢ on Amazon where all the proceeds will be going to to Literacy for Incarcerated Teens, a non-profit organization using the written word to help those in need of a fresh start.

And yes, there's still Drunk on the Moon as well: action packed paranormal noir with your favourite werewolf P.I. If you haven't got this yet, do -- it's a whole lot of fun and I'm not just saying that for my story "It's a Curse." You will rip through this collection hootin' and a hollerin' and havin' a good time. And while you're at it, think about getting another great charity-supporting anthology True Brit Grit.

All right: tomorrow I'll have some reviews for you including Guerilla Blues!

Six Sentence Sunday: It's a Curse, Round 2

Six Sentence Sunday has rolled around again. Drop by and see all the offerings at the Six Sunday blog. Today I offer another taste of "It's a Curse" because the eBook of Drunk on the Moon is already out and the print version arrives this week. And because I had such a hard time choosing just six sentences from the story. So here's another half dozen from when Roman Dalton, the werewolf PI, meets the woman he's supposed to be locating:


Jameson smiled, then looked thoughtful. "There's something odd about you."


"I missed the Paris fashions this year, so I'm out of season. Imagine my embarrassment."


"You're not what you seem."


"Neither are you."

In his blurb about the collection, Les Edgerton praised my dialogue in particular. Very kind words, indeed! You'll enjoy this anthology -- I guarantee it.

Six Sentence Sunday: Bill is Dead

Yes, it's that time again, Six Sentence Sunday. For this week I share another work you can read in full for nothing over at Pulp Metal Magazine, where you will find lots more for your noirish pleasures, including the omnipresent Mr B.

PMM loves stories inspired by songs; oddly enough, I tend to write a few stories that are inspired by songs especially -- wait for it! -- songs by The Fall.

So here's a little snippet from "Bill is Dead" which happens to be a real fave of mine. All dialogue: the difficulty in this kind of story is making the two voices distinct. In this case, they're also rather crude, as well as not being the sharpest tools in the box. Slightly based on true facts; Bill, it turns out, is having a bad day, exacerbated by a party lasting past 4am next door...

“Not because of the party?”

“At first, no. His wife, after threatening for twenty years, does a runner. Seems she met a new guy on line and they were running off to Budapest.”

“Budapest? Where the hell is that anyway?”

Flash fiction, so a quick read. Let me know what you think, let PMM know too. Lots of good writing there.

Writer Wednesday: Reviews

PLAGUE TOWN
DANA FREDSTI

Ashley Parker makes a winning heroine: she's a bit older than her fellow students and while she's got the classic California co-ed looks, it's her intelligence and integrity that you'll remember. Fredsti's writing is always full of good humour and arch observations, but it's also chock full of action and really gruesome horror. The alternation in narrative between zombie hunters and zombie sufferers gives a chance to recognise the human price of the plague, something that doesn't come across in a lot of more depersonalised tales. At times the in-jokes come a little heavy, but the story cracks right along with both intense and grisly action, but also complicated interactions between characters you will root for. Looking forward to the sequels!

THE LANGUAGE OF DYING
SARAH PINBOROUGH

In this intense novella we see an already damaged family dealing with the impending death of their father. Our narrator is the beleaguered middle child and daddy's girl, who seems to be the rock holding everything together -- until the cracks in her façade begin to show. Interactions with her siblings bring out the comfort of that shared experience, but also the strains of their lives together. As her father's life ebbs, she drifts into remembering the very worst times in her life and a memory of something that may or may not have happened -- and something that waits outside the house. In his introduction, Graham Joyce calls it 'fractured realism' and it fits. A strong exploration of the dark spectre we must all find a way to deal with sooner or later.

SNAPSHOTS
PAUL D. BRAZILL

As indicated on the tin, twenty-one short sharp tales of crime, despair and bizarrely comic misadventures. Not so much the world of the rich and famous as of the spent and fumbling, observed through a bleary eye of cynicism gilded with a mordant sense of humour that will have you laughing even as you wince. If there's a fault here, it's that they read too quickly. It would be a treat to see Brazill tackle something lengthier.

[Apologies for the wonky formatting; the mobile Blogger app leaves a lot to be desired.]

Six Sentence Sunday: It's a Curse

Howling out of Dark Valentine Press later this month, "It's a Curse" is one of the Roman Dalton stories in Drunk on the Moon, tales of the werewolf detective created by Paul D. Brazill. Mr B has lured me into the crime world much like a stranger with candy. I may be some time.

This is another story I can blame on The Fall, forsooth, by gad, verily! The opening owes as much also to Kingsley Amis, who set the bar high for hangover scenes in his classic of academic ambivalence, Lucky Jim. What can I say? I'm competitive.

I could feel my eyeballs roll in their sockets before I opened my lids: never a good sign. I steeled myself for the brutal fact of daylight, but the dawn was as grey as if it hadn't yet decided to get dressed. I reached for the crumpled pack of gaspers lying next to the bed. The object my groping fingers found puzzled me.


I opened one eye warily. It was a handkerchief, floral and trimmed in lace...

Poor Roman: things are going to get worse before they get better. Oh, wait -- no, they're just going to get worse. Hee.

Six Sentence Sunday: Mandrake Anthrax

I've been getting all noir lately. I blame Mr B. Ireland's so lovely, but I've been setting stories here that are undeniably grim. So I blame Ken Bruen, too. While I'm spreading the blame around, might as well point a finger (or two!) at Mark E. Smith, too. If he hadn't written a lyric like, "A serious man /In need of a definitive job /He had drunk too much /Mandrake anthrax," then I wouldn't have had the idea for this story, which first started up on Twitter. Let's blame Twitter, too, shall we? It worked for Franzen.

My six:

Hanley eyed the brick façade. The door proved to be a gothic affair, metal bound and painted all black. Seeing no modern convenience, he lifted the oversized bat knocker and clapped it to a few times. They both craned their ears but all around them it was suddenly as quiet as death, as if all the people had walked hand in hand into the bay abandoning the city behind them. Hanley shuddered.

When he had just about surrendered all hope and began to get thirsty for a tall foamy pint, the door groaned open to reveal a disheveled looking eurotrash reject of indeterminate age...

You can read the whole of this bleak little tale over at A Twist of Noir. While you're there, read some of the other fine stuff they've got.

Drop by the Six Sentence Sunday blog and sample some new writers today.

Howling Back into View

You can't keep a good series down! Back on the prowl with another wild howl, it's Drunk on the Moon -- bigger, badder and better! Coming soon from Dark Valentine Press, home of the original Roman Dalton story by Mr B, the dark vision that kicked off the series. In addition to yours truly, the contributors include Julia Madeleine, Frank Duffy, Alan Leverone, BR Statham, and more -- including a prequel from Paul that fills in a bit more of the back story for Dalton's best mate. Get ready to run with the pack, because your favourite werewolf detective will be back!

More wandering around and some faboo pictures: how lucky I am, indeed indeed. Click to see the bigger versions or head over to the photo album for even more.

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Pop Hive & Galway Races

Happy Valentine's Day to my sweetie xxx Glad I could spend at least part of the day with you :-)

Good news from Mr B, who shared the link from Dark Valentine Press who now lists the Drunk on the Moon collection as forthcoming this spring (so just around the corner). Also my Fall-inspired noir story "Bill is Dead" will also be appearing soon. Linkage when it's available...

POP HIVE

My BitchBuzz editor Cate Sevilla has started up a new pop culture-themed web tv series. Drop by and experience the bright bubble of fun. Episodes on Vimeo.



Pop Hive: Episode 2 from Pop Hive on Vimeo.


GALWAY RACES/RAISA NA GAILLIMHE

When we visited TG4 the station director told us about the second series of the Irish language soap "Galway Races" so I figured it would be fun. It's a hoot - distinctly odd and I can already see the very local touches. You can watch it and all the Irish-language programming for free anywhere in the world. Next episode is tomorrow night. I'll be watching! Let's make it an international phenomenon. Besides, you get to visit all the familiar sights around Galway. Imagine "Dynasty" in a fairly small town. There's a crashed and burned politician, a tough police chief trying to reform a laughable force when her ne'er-do-well hippie brother shows up and an assortment of hustling would be entrepreneurs all around.

Love and Theft

"I'm not quite as cool or forgiving as I sound..."

 "Floater" by Bob Dylan

I'll have some lovely photos from the trip to Connemara up soon, but there's something else I need to deal with first. This week has been a head shaking one in several ways that's ended up leaving me with a couple fewer publications than I had before.

However, before I get to that, a digression. Those of you who have experienced me teaching know my proclivity for doing that. I blame Beowulf: chock full of digressions. Like that great poem, however, my digressions have a point. Think of it as a parable and then a lesson if you like.

The other day on Facebook I shared Jim Jarmusch's quote that I love and have used before. It came in a nice graphic form, so I'll share it here, too.

I always say that becoming a medievalist saved me from the terror of "originality" -- because there's nothing like studying a thousand years of literature to show you without a doubt that every story has been told before. My creative writing students who find this revelation deflating I give the reassurance, "But no one has told your version." If I'd been paying more attention, I would have learned the lesson from Shakespeare. The bard's stories are not "original" -- looted from various sources from Ovid to histories to contemporary events. Yet no one told the tales as he did; that's why we still read him with such pleasure.

We need to recognize that we stand on the shoulders of giants; pretending that you have no influences is simply ignorance. The arrogance of believing that you can create anything without those myriad voices in your head, sights in your eyes, sounds in your ears, shapes in your hands is an illusion. The "stealing" Jarmusch refers to here is not a mindless copying of another's work but an appropriation of elements that resonate through your soul. Because once you've placed your stolen object in a new location, it transforms.

Bob Dylan is a master of this. Love and Theft offers a lot of "thefts" -- something Dylan's always been conscious of doing. His title comes from Eric Lott's book Love & Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class. The album features what Greg Kot in the Chicago Tribune described as:

"The kind of twisted, instantly memorable characters one meets in John Ford's westerns, Jack Kerouac's road novels, but, most of all, in the blues and country songs of the 1920s, '30s and '40s. This is a tour of American music—jump blues, slow blues, rockabilly, Tin Pan Alley ballads, country swing—that evokes the sprawl, fatalism and subversive humor of Dylan's sacred text, Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music, the pre-rock voicings of Hank Williams, Charley Patton and Johnnie Ray, among others, and the ultradry humor of Groucho Marx."

A fine list of looted treasures. What makes his work a success is not who he steals from, but what he does with the stolen goods. In my own small way, I've stolen from Dylan, too. My story "Tangled Up in Some Sort of Cerulean Hue" took Dylan's "Tangled Up in Blue" and mashed it up with Christopher Marlowe's Doctor Faustus and then just played around. My forthcoming novel Owl Stretching stole  its sadly funny tone from Kurt Vonnegut and stole as well as from William Blake (for all the quotes Ro gets wrong)  and The Descent of Inanna. I steal from everywhere; things collide in my head that would not collide the same way in anyone else's head. I run with those collisions and make something the original creators never intended and would not recognise. That's what Jarmusch means.

Witless theft, on the other hand, stealing without respect or transformation, is a crime not only in the legal sense, but to the spirit of creativity as well. Stealing someone else's work and passing it off as your own, you commit a shabby crime and a lazy one as well. In the digital realm, it's also easy to uncover. I've removed my two stories from Trestle Press for this kind of theft: cover art images, not words this time. I first got a tip off from Mr B and he has already found a new home for the Drunk on the Moon stories (well done!). I don't know what I'll do with "Mandrake and Magpies" yet. I'll think of something.

You can read other authors' (more timely) accounts of the revelations and fallout like Julia Madeleine's, Luca Veste's and BR Statetham's and they'll lead you to many more. I feel bad for the first time writers who received a painful lesson in the crazy world of publishing. After you've been through the folding magazine phenomenon and fly-by-night publishers you find it easier to shrug off the inevitable Dickensian Grubb Street betrayal. Swearing a lot helps at first, but then you just get back to writing -- it's what you need to do.

Six Sentence Sunday: It's a Curse

A simple concept: writers offer six sentences to pique your interest. Here's mine:


"And you're a beast among men, Roman Dalton." Marinova spoke softly but the words hit like a blow anyway. I hunched my shoulders and walked on, the zubrowka churning my guts yet. When I reached the lifts I punched the button with a little more energy than it called for to summon one. The wolf arched in my spine. His time drew closer. I hit the button again. I needed to finish up this job.


You can buy It's a Curse: Drunk on the Moon 7 and the other titles in Mr B's killer fun werewolf PI series along with a bunch of my fine colleagues at Trestle Press. You can also win a copy at Goodreads.

Drop by the Six Sentence Sunday blog to sample other writers. 

Haunted, Spies & a little Melancholia

Angela Carter: she's been a kind of spiritual mother to me since I first read The Bloody Chamber and knew I'd found a kindred soul. This week I finally started writing the novel that's been brewing in my head for some time now inspired by Carter and to some extent also by Kingsley Amis. Hard to imagine two writers more diametrically opposed, but there it is. They fit together in this project. So my head snapped back a little to see this story in the Guardian about Carter's postcards to her friend and literary executor Susannah Clapp. All kinds of resonance from the details in that story from her love of sending postcards to other coincidences that make me wonder just how much of Carter's life will intertwine with my story. Maybe it will only be at the start. Owl Stretching began the day I realised there would be no more sad, funny novels from Kurt Vonnegut, but his ghost only hung around now and then to remind me. He didn't really poke his nose into the proceedings much. Carter died far too soon (and about the age I am now). I feel a responsibility to write the kind of stories she might have written -- or at the very least, as fearlessly as she always sought to write. It's a goal. There's a slide show of the cards. Check it out.

I've got an interview up over at Ben Sobieck's blog, where he suggests I might really be a spy. It's funny how that theme keeps recurring: the first novel I ever wrote -- way back in high school -- followed the adventures of a wannabe spy. The title I'm sorry to say was Ace Spies Incorporated and the plot followed a similar path to just about every film from North by Northwest to The Man Who Knew Too Little with the innocent main character getting caught up with the real thing and quickly getting in over her head. The novel also featured thinly veiled versions of my teenage crushes, the Beatles (ah, that 70s resurgence of second wave Beatlemania). I don't think I have a copy of this anymore, although my old friend Carla might.

I finally saw Melancholia, but I'm not ready to write it up. Harrowing, I can say that much. Amazing, incredible visuals and powerful drama, yes -- but harrowing. And I start teaching Wednesday. Eek!

Trestle Press BOGO & Brit Grit Too

 

ONE DAY THROW DOWN!

 SALE WITHIN A SALE

PAUL D. BRAZILL’S BRIT GRIT TOO MONDAY -- AND MONDAY ONLY! -- $.99, PLUS THE BUY ONE GET ONE FREE IS STILL IN FORCE!!

 

Amazon Kindle Best-Selling and trailblazing author Paul D. Brazill has decided to drop the price of his legendary Brit Grit Too to $.99 for one day, Monday, January 16, 2012. If you purchase Brit Grit Too Trestle Press will match that with any title up to the full purchase price of $4.99 as part of the BOGO sale (which includes It's a Curse and Dark Pages: International Noir of course!)

Just email Paul D. Brazill or find him at his legendary blog -- or email Trestle Press directly with your proof of purchase (e.g. your confirmation email from Amazon).

Here's the lowdown on Brit Grit Too:

Edited by Paul D Brazill, Brit Grit Too collects 32 of Britain's best up and coming crime fiction writers to aid the charity Children 1st. The BRIT GRIT mob is coming to kick down your door with hobnailed boots. Kitchen-sink noir; petty-thief-louts; lives of quiet desperation; sharp, blood-stained slices of life; booze-sodden brawls from the bottom of the barrel and comedy that’s as black as it’s bitter—this is BRIT GRIT.

Table of Contents.

1. Two Fingers Of Noir by Alan Griffiths

2. Looking For Jamie by Iain Rowan

3. Stones In Me Pocket by Nigel Bird

4. The Catch And The Fall by Luke Block

5. A Long Time Coming by Paul Grzegorzek

6. Loose Ends by Gary Dobb

7. Graduation Day by Malcolm Holt

8. Cry Baby by Victoria Watson

9. The Savage World Of Men by Richard Godwin

10. Hard Boiled Poem (a mystery) by Alan Savage

11. A Dirty Job by Sue Harding

12. Squaring The Circle by Nick Quantrill

13. The Best Days Of My Life by Steven Porter

14. Hanging Stan by Jason Michel

15. The Wrong Place To Die by Nick Triplow

16. Coffin Boy by Nick Mott

17. Meat Is Murder by Colin Graham

18. Adult Education by Graham Smith

19. A Public Service by Col Bury

20. Hero by Pete Sortwell

21. Snapshots by Paul D Brazill

22. Smoked by Luca Veste

23. Geraldine by Andy Rivers

24. A Minimum Of Reason by Nick Boldock

25. Dope On A Rope by Darren Sant

26. A Speck Of Dust by David Barber

27. Hard Times by Ian Ayris

28. Never Ending by Fiona Johnson

29. Faces by Frank Duffy

30. The Plebitarian by Danny Hogan

31. King Edward by Gerard Brennan

32. Brit Grit by Charlie Wade

Spinetingler Award nominee Paul D Brazill has had stories in loads of classy print and electronic magazines and anthologies, such as A Twist Of Noir, Beat To A Pulp, Crime Factory, Dark Valentine, Deadly Treats, Dirty Noir, Needle, Powder Burn Flash, Thrillers, Killers n Chillers, Noir Nation, Pulp Ink, Pulp Pusher, Radgepacket Volumes Four and Five, Shotgun Honey& The Mammoth Book Of Best British Crime Volume 8. He writes for Pulp Metal Magazine and Mean Streets as well as his blog, You Would Say That, Wouldn't You? He is the creator of the  horror/noir series, Drunk on the Moon, published by Trestle Press.

  

Happy Friday the 13th Hearts & Werewolves

UPDATE: My short sharp interview over at Mr B's is up, too! Drop by for more lies and exaggerations.

Happy Friday the 13th! If you're not superstitious, then you won't mind that I put a spell on you. Don't worry -- it's just to get you to join in the Valentine's Day giveaway that my publisher Trestle Press has cooked up. I'll be giving away FIVE copies of It's a Curse: Drunk on the Moon 7 at Goodreads. Just RSVP to the event to be in the running for the freebies. Be sure to find me on Goodreads if you haven't done so already. Some people give hearts and chocolates: I give you a free book. What could be better than that?

But the fun doesn't stop there: lots of the Trestle Press folks are doing the same thing, so you have lots of opportunities to win. I know the books aren't really that expensive, but I also know how much more fun it is to get away with paying nothing at all. Oh, I know you people, yes I do.

Here's a wee excerpt of It's a Curse, where Roman first meets his client. Hazard a guess at who Jameson might be based on (g'wan g'wan g'wan):

"Coffee? Or are you ready to start oiling your neck again?" Duffy flipped the battered National Geographic over on the counter so that the unnaturally green frog smiled upside down from the cover as I sat on a stool.

"Coffee." I wished I had thrown a few more aspirins down my gullet but another cup ought to sort that out. Duffy's java had about five times the strength of a normal brew. He claimed the beans had come from his cousin the alchemist. On days like this, I almost believed him.

He slid a mug across the counter and grinned a little too widely in its wake. "So, we gonna hear some wedding bells soon?"

A growl rumbled in my throat. The full moon was still days off, but the wolf already ran under my skin. He never really left anymore.

"Come on, Roman. You were awfully friendly with her last night."

This time I did snarl. "I don't remember a thing."

Duffy grinned. "You missed a good show. Those metal jockeys never had a chance."

I let the hot black blast fill my throat and ignored him. The wasps in my head were beginning to drown at last and a little silence would have aided their demise. Unfortunately Duffy blathered on, a pointless tale of drunken boasts, a damsel in distress and damage to the furniture that he blamed on me.

"Mr. Dalton, I presume?"

I swiveled my neck to the right, a mistake as the wasps took flight once more. "Who wants to know?"

He was tall and trim, clad in a Saville Row suit worn with such utter carelessness that he had to have been born to it. Sandy brown hair topped a face with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen and an amused look that its wearer probably never lost. He took a drag on a Gauloise and favoured me with a broad smile that managed not to suggest any sort of friendliness. "Edward Jameson."

"You're a long way from home, Mr. Jameson. Why didn't you send your butler instead?"

One eyebrow raised just enough to deepen the picture of amusement. "It's a rather delicate matter. My butler and I have a little understanding; he pretends not to know all my intimate secrets and I pretend to believe him. May I sit down?"

****

Hope that whets your appetite. Don't forget I'm over at the Writer's Block Party and all the folks from The Girl's Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse are over at Pornokitsch talking about why we do what we do.

What the Dickens?!

Hey, join me at the party! The Writer's Party, that is, where I do my Auntie Mame impression. I talk about inspiration and writing and whatnot. Not quite as crazily as I did at Mr B's but it's not possible to maintain that high level of madness all the time.

A decent showing in the Preditors & Editors Poll. I think I made it to #15 last year with "High Plains Lazarus"; this year It's a Curse made it to #16 and four other Drunk on the Moon titles ended up in the top 20 (imagine if our votes were combined!). Dark Pages: International Noir with my story "Mandrake and Magpies" made it to #13. With some real stiff competition, the fabulous Queen of Everything's cover art rose to #12. All in all, an excellent showing!

And just under the wire: the Pornokitsch interview with all of us at The Girl's Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse is up: check it out!

Those of you in the States may not be getting the same inundation that we are on this side of the pond, but even if you aren't deluged by Dickens, I stand by these recommendations:

Sick of Dickens? Here are Some Alternatives...

By K.A. Laity

It's the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Dickens. If somehow the news has escaped you, surely you could tell from the deluge of BBC productions assaulting us from every side (even if they don't always seem to be enjoying it).

It's only the second week in January and already we've had a new version of Great Expectations and fleshed out finish to The Mystery of Edwin Drood, and Arena has offered a neat recap of this most-filmed author whose works have filled cinemas since its first stuttering steps.

Meanwhile on the radio you can find adaptations of The Old Curiosity Shop, Hard Times, Little Dorrit and David Copperfield running at present. There are over 200 hits when you search programmes for Dickens (you get almost double that when you search sports, but that's seldom due to Charles).

Suppose you want costume drama but you're sick of Dickens? Where to turn? Let's assume for the sake of argument you've likewise had your fill lately of both Austen and Downton Abbey—after all you can't swing a dead urchin without hitting one or the other. Here are some suggestions that may be less well known to those of you who hunger for  yet more bonnets and waistcoats (I'd say hit the books, but we know that's not going to happen, is it?)...

Read the rest, as always, over at BBHQ. Despite my grumbling, I think Gwyneth Hughes did an admirable job of wrapping up Dickens' unsolved enigma and the second half cracked along. If some of the outcomes were predictable, others definitely were not! Nicely done. Spoilers in this recap.

Budapest and Switzerland in May: a distinct possiblity...