Postcards, Bridges, a Knife and a Quill

I model the latest SL Johnson design with lighting by Garbo

I have got so far as narrowing down the entries in the First Annual Postcard Fiction Contest to a pool of final contenders (yes, Ale! Your card arrived). Agonizing to make the final choice! I may need a glass of wine for this. Alas, I have none. I suppose that could be remedied, but I have so much to do today.

I will force myself to make a choice by Wednesday and keep rereading them in the meantime. A huge thank you to everyone who entered. I may indeed make this an annual event. It was about this time last year that I got the call saying I was going to Ireland. It has to have been the fastest year on record, whew.

Not that it felt like it when I was packing and clearing out my old flat. The horror, the horror. But wherever I may be, I will stop around this time and think of the adventure about to unfold and feel very happy:

“If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper...”
― Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited 

 No time to spare for wistful thoughts: much too busy! One of the latest projects: a book trailer for Burning Bridges: A Renegade Anthology. Yes, if you're reading this you likely already know the story -- and that you have no excuse for not getting it! Free on Smashwords, 99¢ on Amazon and all that going to literacy. Don't make me come over there! No, really -- because I'm staying over here. The trailer tells the story of the assembly of our renegade band. Check it out and give it a like and get the book already!




One more important bit of news: I'm writing reviews over at A Knife and A Quill, a site for dark fiction, as you might guess from the name. Lots of horror and crime fiction covered over there. So if you have an interest, drop by and read some reviews, interviews and features. If you're an author think about submitting something for review by the team. Yes, this is in addition to writing for The Girl's Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse and the occasional piece for Un:Bound. Why do you think I'm so busy? My quill is always scratching away.

Writers, who can resist a quill? I remember comparing quill tattoos with Sarah Pinborough at P-Con. Writing: it's in the blood, it's in the flesh.

Writer Wednesday: Postcard Fiction Contest

An inspiration I had: a contest to celebrate brevity in fiction. Write a story that fits on a postcard! Send it to me. I'll choose my favourite and give it a prize -- let's say $25. Entries open now until 15th May, 2012. All postcards I have received through that date will be in the running -- yes, from anyone anywhere in the world. My choice will be entirely capricious and not at all fair as it will be based on my own tastes. Yes, I'm sure the postcard itself could figure into my decision, so choose wisely. Stories remain your copyright, though you must allow me to post them here if I'm of a mind to do so (I will certainly post the winner). Winner to be announced within five days of the end of the contest. Failure to respond to my email indicating you are the winner within five days will lead to me choosing another winner. Anything else I need to clarify? Let me know.

How to do it:

1. Get a postcard.

2. Write a story on it.

3. Include your email address if you want a chance to win.

4. Send your postcard with sufficient stampage to:

Kate Laity c/o
Moore Institute/Institiúid de Móra
NUIG
University Road
Galway
Ireland

Please share the contest with all your writer and would-be-writer friends. Yes, I'm sure it will figure in my research somehow :-)

See our Facebook event page if you frequent those environs.

*This contest funded in part (though not authorised by) the Fulbright Foundation.

Six Sentence Sunday: Revelation

Today's six come from a pivotal story in my life: not for its quality (though I find some things to enjoy even now) or because it was my first "official" publication (though it was) but because it brought me kind words from Clive Barker. His Lord of Illusions short story contest inspired me to write this story of a child preacher and the apocalypse that begins at Disneyland. I think Clive had been on some talk show mentioning how much the ride horrified him (as it does all right thinking people) and suddenly the idea was there.

I won the contest, which was cool; even better were the kind words in the letter he wrote me to tell me my story was full of "fluent style and poetic dialogue" and the big hug I got when I first met him and told him that I wrote that story. Clive is a swell guy: every time I see him, he seems to remember me (considering how most people seldom remember me, that's a lot). I have seen him greet the last fan in a very long line with the same enthusiasm he had for the first. It's a good life being an imagineer.

This story appears in full at the official American Clive Barker site.

Michael snapped open his folding-table by the exit of "It's A Small World," one of his favorite spots, despite the risk. The scissoring legs telescoped toward the pavement and locked with a pleasing thwack. Other children, some younger, eyed him surreptitiously, waiting for the show to begin before committing to the spectacle.

In a single practiced motion, he slipped the heavy book from the crook of his elbow to the slanted table-top where it opened at will. Not by my will, but by Thy will, Michael repeated silently with satisfaction. He shaded his eyes to scan the well-tanned pages.

Stop by the Six Sentence Sunday blog to discover new writers!

Tuesday's Overlooked Films: The Devil and Miss Jones

A few things to mention before I get to this lovely little film: the BOGO sale at Trestle continues! I have a new short horror story coming out, "Yuletide Feast," which will be up soon: it's actually a rather old story that I stumbled across, realised had never been published, so shined up and sent off. Waste not, want not. I put the 1k story "A Charming Situation" I wrote for the Sherlocking site back in 2010 up on Scribd: just to help you with those withdrawal symptoms while waiting for series three. I somehow missed that Drink Tank's issue 300 has appeared already, featuring my piece "Viking Wrestling" on page 58 (it's a jam-packed gigantor issue with 300 entries and almost as many pages). I particularly like the illo by Mell Hoppe that accompanies it.

All, now for Miss Jones -- not to be confused with the similarly titled The Devil in Miss Jones which is very different to be sure. The Devil and Miss Jones stars the always luminous Jean Arthur (I seem to love that word luminous) who's also very funny. I want to see You Can't Take it With You right now! She's just glorious in that. It also stars the very funny Charles Coburn (you might know him best from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes where he was diamond mine owner Sir Charles Beekman AKA Piggy). Spring Byington charms as Arthur's friend Elizabeth and Robert Cummings plays the passionate labour organiser Joe.





It's almost impossible to imagine this film getting the green light. In a world where Hollywood has made a hero of millionaire industrialists like Tony Stark (the theme seems to be 'he's an asshole, but he's our asshole') and sold the idea that your personal fortune is just around the corner, it's amazing to see this picture that's completely on the side of the working people. In the current American climate, where "patriotism" has been writ as straight-laced morality and obedience to corporate overlords, it's astounding to see a film in praise of what is now the Occupy Wall Street folk. How has it become a radical notion to suggest that working people have rights and should be treated with dignity? It only takes Coburn's millionaire Merrick a few days with the plucky poor to realise how horrible his policies (and his empty life) have been. Cumming's impassioned delivery of the Declaration of Independence in the police station shows the vast gap between the patriotism of the former ideals of freedom and dignity that have been replaced by 'personhood' for corporations and draconian civil engineering masquerading as 'morality'.

The only thing that's kept his film from being acknowledged as a classic is the stumble at the end. It feels as if the filmmakers decided it was going on too long and just wrapped things up a little too quickly. Nevertheless, it's a fun film with plenty of great comedy moments (Jean Arthur's expressions are priceless when she's trying to work up the nerve to knock Coburn out) and an inspiring message.

As always, see the roundup of recommendations over at Sweet Freedom.

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...

Year of the Owl

Don't I live in a gorgeous city?

First, a little importuning: I know, it's a bit much coming from someone who's had more than her fair share of luck lately. But I'd really like you to vote for me for best horror short story for It's a Curse. Pretty please? And as long as you're voting, you could also vote for the anthology I'm in, Dark Pages: International Noir, and for the Queen of Everything for best cover for Four Play and our pal C. Margery Kempe for best romance short, Dragger Ella. Thank you ever so. Only a couple more days to go. These contests can help boost sales and get a little attention. It's a constant battle against obscurity.

Full moon tonight. Where wolf? There, wolf!

Tip of the hat to my pal Mr B for pointing me to a post by Iain Rowan on "folk horror" inspirations from the past. Alan Garner's Owl Service has come up before. Probably Mr B mentioned (along with things like The Tomorrow People and Children of the Stones) the series made from the novel which looks amazing. Must track down the book: the library here doesn't have it, but I'm sure I can locate a copy. I don't know how I missed Garner's books as they clearly fit my own obsessions. More on this tomorrow.

I know in Chinese astrology the coming year will be the Year of the Dragon, but for me all signs point to it being the Year of the Owl. Yes, in part because of the forthcoming release of Owl Stretching (at last, at last), but there's something more. Everywhere I turn, it's owls. I know, birds a-plenty all around me: my magpies always, the swans of Galway, more rooks than you can shake a stick at. But owls keep popping up at significant moments. We shall see what that means.

So from Professor Elemental on Twitter this morning, a gift for you:

Things to Celebrate

UPDATE: I'll be reading as the narrator for the College of Saint Rose Women's Initiative's presentation of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues Saturday night at 7pm. The show plays on Sunday at 3pm with my fabulous colleague and friend Angela Ledford as narrator. Tickets benefit Equinox. Girls Next Door will be performing at the interval.

The desk wombat announces (though the odd angle makes it look like a two-legged creature, eh?) that there is some news to share. First, that my William Blake-inspired short story "Eating the Dream" has received the FEMSPEC: The Best of the Second Five Years first prize in fiction. They're going to announce the prizes at the Popular Culture Association Conference in San Antonio and also at Wiscon, but I won't be able to be there. FEMSPEC also gave prizes for criticism, memoir and poetry. A big party has been planned to celebrate. Congratulations to all the winners!

The other good news is that I have my ticket to Rome for spring break where I will be staying with the fabulous Alessandra. I can't wait! I've never been to Italy. I was hoping to go last fall, but things didn't quite work out. So tell me your useful Italian phrases and recommendations! I definitely want to see the Caravaggios and probably the Coliseum and the catacombs and who knows? Dance in the Trevi Fountain! I want to relax and eat good food and drink good wine and laugh and talk. Whatever happens, I'm sure I will have a wonderful time.

Kit Marlowe has been busy, too, talking about making book trailers at Tease Publishing's blog and she'll be reading from The Mangrove Legacy for the Tuesday Talking Teaser this coming week over at JoJo's Books.TODAY! Kit is the Friday Guest at Isabel Roman's blog: stop by!

Top Ten: "High Plains Lazarus"

BitchBuzz: Made (Over) in Dagenham & News

Good news: "High Plains Lazarus" finished 9th in the Predators & Editors poll for Best Horror Short of 2010. I seem to be the only woman in the top ten. Thanks to everyone for their support and voting. It's always awkward asking people to vote for you, but I'm learning to be a little more shameless.

If you need a chuckle, stop by and read my piece for Polite Company Magazine, "Deleted Scenes from the State of the Union." I'm particularly proud of the birthers joke.

I'm still buried under the madness of the semester's start. Ay yi yi -- why re-entry has been so difficult, I don't know, but it has. I have to find some way to get minions. It's the only answer. But of course, the main event: my column for this week incorporates (obliquely) my review of Made in Dagenham, grumbles about the inflated praise for The King's Speech and the Oscars' preference for women who are mad, drunk or dying. Bleh:

Made (Over) in Dagenham

 We don’t really need to see the true grit of history, do we?

The road to Oscar success for women can be easily codified, as Film Site does for us:

"Biographies of remarkable, real-life individuals (showbiz figures and entertainers) and portrayals of the mentally ill are heavily represented among Oscar winners (and nominees), particularly in the acting awards. It helps an actress's chances of winning (or being nominated for) an Oscar if the character dies during the movie, or is alcoholic (or drug-addicted), or is a murderess."

It seems that Natalie Portman will most likely prove the winner this year, despite the incredible performance turned in by Jennifer Lawrence in the finest film of the year, Winter's Bone, for her turn as a prima ballerina falling apart, given that True Grit's Hailee Steinfeld received a nomination as a supporting actress, despite being the star of the film.

It's ironic that a saccharine "biography of a remarkable, real-life" man, The King's Speech, has scooped so many nominations when somewhat less saccharine "biography of a remarkable, real-life" woman, Made in Dagenham, was overlooked completely (right down to the Billy Bragg-penned theme song sung by real former Dagenham worker, Sandie Shaw)...

Read the rest at BBHQ: http://culture.bitchbuzz.com/made-over-in-dagenham.html#ixzz1CG9jcRzS

BitchBuzz and a Contest

Yes, up to my usual anti-social behavior in my column this week:

No Ho-Ho Holiday Films!

By K.A. Laity

When you've seen too many cheery reindeer, children singing and hearts growing three sizes, it's time to strike back.

I know there are many who can't wait to pull out that pile of Christmas DVDs every year and spend days laughing and crying with Charlie Brown and Lucy or Rudolph and Hermie or find out what Bedford Falls would have been like without George Bailey.

The rest of us need a break from all the sappy sentiment and I will warn you if you dare get out Love Actually it will come to fisticuffs. So if like me you spend the holidays dreading the next turn of that roulette wheel in the DVD player, here are some films you can suggest that meet the criteria of "holiday" themes but aren't the same old schmaltz...

 

Find out what I recommend here: http://culture.bitchbuzz.com/no-ho-ho-holiday-films.html#ixzz18IQLauVJ

 

I'm not really a Grinch: I just get overloaded on schmaltz like everyone, considering some places start playing Xmas music in October. My pal Karen has come up with a list of sf/fantasy recommendations for holiday films: check out her blog.

Contest: Yesterday on Facebook, Kit Marlowe gave away a copy of her novel The Mangrove Legacy. I've decided I'm going to give one away here for my birthday :-) Come back tomorrow and comment on the post to have a chance to win. I'll choose a winner at random from among the commenters. I do have the hope that some of these freebies will result in reviews, too [she adds with a hopeful look].